Fashion Friday- Losing my kool

It's been a while since I've done a frivolous post with pictures of my wardrobe. But dear reader, you know me by now, and realize that retail therapy is one that at least provides me with a band-aid solution for all that ails.

Remember my trip to NYC? I never did a followup to show you how I fared at Century 21, Anthropologie, and in Soho in various retail establishments.

Ever wish you were Carrie Bradshaw, or a talented designer/ shop-owner in an up-and-coming artsy neighbourhood, and had the guts to be attired in fun, funky numbers and wear them well? I think this is what I was thinking when I went with this...

And paired with an almost conservative swingy jacket...



Or with a Michael Stars T, "sleeping on snow" woolen hoodie and knock-off necklace,

Free People ... squeeee!!!

Ed Hardy T, because I'm too chicken to get a real tattoo...

But times have changed. Hitting the clearance racks and warehouse sales for quick drive-by shopping for more "functional" items in light of recent physical events and the recession, these are my recent buys:

Giraffe? Well, not exactly big on the function quotient, but it was only $9 and it seemed like a good idea at the time...

Ecco boots - I wrestled with a 65 year old grandma for these... but they are comfortable...

A good pair of hiking boots, at least they're in red, not so funky, but red nonetheless...

But my sexiest functional item has got to be this,:

Heck, even Ian says it's hawt, in a volleyball player (although I'm thinking more "Crash") like way.

Thank gawd Anthropologie is coming our way soon...please?

Wordless Wednesday -Squeeee!!!

Melancholy mid-life crisis

In the last 60 days or so...

-I've had 2 gall bladder attacks;
-I've been part of a family going at warp speed in a medical situation;
-I sprained my knee, which now appears to be mildly osteoarthritic;... good bye beloved bodyjam?? $hi^, fack and all that stuff????!!!
-I lost my father.

I'm starting to think that my 40's really, really suck.

This is also high travel season for my husband's work. He's cut back, but in reality, if he were to attend every work event that he could, he'd be gone 110% of the time. Last week was tough. Ian took the red-eye home so he could be back Saturday morning. Still, it was a lonely week, after having spent a lonely week only about five days before.

Yesterday marked the one month anniversary of my Dad's passing. I thought about him as I watched the Oscars last night. He loved that stuff. I come by my obsession with all things entertainment quite honestly. I'm hoping that he's partying with Paul Newman and making friends with Heath. You never know.

I know MY lonely is nothing compared to that of my mother's. It's unbearable for me to even think about...I want to help unload her grief, her sadness. I just don't know how.

I guess they say that times of crisis make you re-evaluate your life. This big hole has left me looking for answers to questions that I don't even know to ask. Are the things we depend on, our foundations, even able to withstand life's uncertainties? I'd like to think so.

Weekly Winners - Family Days

Last weekend we did what we're supposed to do (being such well-behaved Canadians)...we actually went out and did some Family activities on Family Day Weekend. So original.

First up, a visit to Harbourfront for some skating (well, for the boys) while the girls, because of Mom's bum knee, checked out the artist studios and did some artwork of girlie's own...

Artist at work:

Artist's mother being annoying coming in for a proud photo-op ... (can you see the "Mom, let me finish!!!!!" look on the girl's face?)
Little G doesn't look so little in this shot... where did those legs come from? She wanted to see the water...
And here she is with her Mama...coffee, yo... (wha???)

The boys were with us too ... I thought the tower
looked a bit space-age nestled amongst the condos ...

Now some uptown fun in Unionville...

Look, more art!

Big bro wants some action ...

Finished products...Exhibit A

Exhibit B

And because Mom got so excited that the Boy actually spent some time away from his Nintendo DS for some artwork, she went out and bought some for home and was hijacked into helping the girlie make this...
(I'm just a big copy cat, but close enough, don't you think?)

Have a great Oscar Sunday everyone. I will be watching, at least just for the gowns because the last quality movie I watched at the theatre was "Paul Blart, Mall Cop".

But who am I kidding, I'll be really watching for...

(from Google images)

Be sure to visit other winners, at the home of the lovely hostess with the mostest LOTUS.

Love Letters

We had my family over for dinner on Valentine's Day last weekend, in honour of Valentine's and Family Day and because I hadn't had my family over in ages. It was lovely. The arrival of the little girlie cousins turned the main floor into a mini-kindergym almost instantaneously. We had to take several trips to the basement to dust off some push/ride vehicles to ensure that each child had something to ride. And adding to the ambiance was the incessant roaring of the plasma car on our porcelain tiles as my son did the racing circuit around the kitchen/dining/living room. With the parade of vehicles following his trusty lead.

And just like old times, my Mom brought along something to cook; a 1.5 pound bass and some chicken and ginseng soup. To go perfectly with my sticky pineapple ribs and rice. But then it's always a bit of a smorgasbord when my Mom is involved.

So it was just like old times. Except it was so very different. This, sat empty:



My Dad always occupied this chair whenever he came over. It's a very cushy, comfy chair, perfectly positioned to watch CNN, the Stock Channel, TSN ... and keep a peripheral eye on the grandkids. Also perfectly positioned in the corner such that catching a wink or two while everyone else was partying wouldn't be noticed. Or so he thought.

It's been almost a month now since he's been gone. In some ways it seems like he's on a cruise, or an extended trip to the casino. It's still very surreal.

Whenever I run into people who I haven't seen since I shared the news, or if I meet others that I haven't seen in a while and I bring them up to date, I'm always told that I appear to be so strong, to be handling all this with such grace. I don't know about that. I don't know if I'm dealing with this well at all - do I seem too cheery, not sad enough, too nonchalant? Does my telling of this crazy ride seem too trite, like I've moved on and things are normal already?

Because things, well they are so not normal.

I'll cry in the shower. I'll cry while driving. I'll cry. Whenever I'm alone.

During his last days, all of those closest to him got to spend alone time with him. We came pretty close to losing him so many times in a period of a few weeks before he finally succumbed. But he considered it a blessing that he had the opportunity to say what he wanted to say ... and I tried to take that opportunity to say everything I wanted to say too. Truth be told, I said a lot of it to him while he was asleep in the hospital room, through my heart as I couldn't talk without breaking down in front of him.

The one thing that Dad really wanted was to watch his grandchildren grow. Besides my mom, they were who he was really fighting for. They are so young still, his grandchildren. My boy, his first grandchild, he will certainly remember. But my little G, while she talks about her Gong-Gong now, and she knows he's not here with us anymore, she knows he's in heaven playing with all the good guys (is he with Elvis, Mommy?) ... but these things will fade. The baby girls, unfortunately, won't know him.

But they'll all have a piece of him.

About a week before Dad passed, although very winded and experiencing difficulty breathing let alone talking, he dictated four letters to my sister. One letter for each grandchild, a special message from their loving Grandpa.

And on Valentine's Day this year, my sister gave my kids their letters. It was a happy but bitterweet and emotional evening.

So indeed he was here with us last weekend. In his words, he reminded us that he's in our minds and in our hearts. Where he will always be.

And on that note, I'm off to cry again.

"Wordless Wednesday" - License to Drive?

(Did you catch that? Let's get a little closer...)

(yeah, we're in the left turn lane. I don't know what's crazier, what they're doing, or the fact that I took a photo ... twice!)

Weekly Winners - Of Princesses, Unicorns & Sexy Sumos

No real "photography" for my first week back at WW in a long time, but these are fun anyway.

*****

(Conversation as we're checking out all the Valentine loot ...)

"Mommy, I think Brandon is in love with me."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because he gave me TWO Valentine cards. And I have pretty hair like a princess. That's why Brandon is in love with me."

He'd probably go bonkers if he ever saw her in her unicorn outfit...

*****

Family Day card made by the Boy. His sister, though, was unimpressed with her lack of stature in his picture.

*****

And this photo is here, just because.



Be sure to visit other winners, at the home of the lovely hostess with the mostest LOTUS.

Celebrating my inner Rednecked...ness

I'm just getting back into the rhythm of regular blogging in time for a celebration, a virtual shower in honour of the original and fantastic RedNeck Mommy, who is welcoming into her Redneck clan, a new 5 year old son. What an incredible and remarkable journey, for an incredible woman and family.

The brilliant hosts of this shower have thrown out the challenge to us to post in the theme of "You know you're a Redneck Mommy when..."

Being Canadian and raised in Scarberia - (a.k.a Scarborough, a Canadian suburb known for spawning the likes of Mike Myers/ Wayne's World, for my non-Canadian friends) this shouldn't be THAT difficult, eh?

After all, I did dress up like this in high school for a joke, but was only half laughing...



So here we go...

- you run out of the house with your 4 month old on your hip, screaming at the garbageman and picking a fight with him for doing a sloppy job;

- you smile proudly as you discover your 2 year old daughter has inherited the family's two-minute long belch;

- the picture of your 1 year old guzzling from a Coors Light bottle brings tears to your eyes and makes your heart sing;

- you let your kids have chips and fruit punch for breakfast and Mr. Noodle (it's pasta isn't it?) for lunch (hey, starch and fruit are major food groups... gotta get back to the blogs, don'tcha know...);

- your main beauty regimen consists of plucking that one lone chin hair that crops up every 8 weeks;

- you manage to use the "f" word each and every time you take the kids to Canada's Wonderland. They keep track of the number of times, and you cheer them on for their mathematical brilliance;

-you're the resident fly-swatter in the house, and have found the diaper to be an essential part of your arsenal;

-you've got a trucker tan;

-your kids knew how to head bang (all night long, baby) by the age of 1.

(see if you can guess which of the above are in fact, true)

******

Congratulations to you and your forever family, Tanis.
I wish you all the best.

Happy Valentine's, Friend...

(that's for you, my virtual friend, your Valentine treat bag...)

I don't know about you, but Valentine's Day for me is just like any other day. It doesn't mean that I appreciate my husband any less, but we find it too commercial, and if anything we're almost "anti"-Valentines. Maybe we're too practical, maybe we're too old ... the wine and roses can be enjoyed by those going through courtship, and that's just fine. If the truth be known, I've seen so many flowers recently and all they do is fade, lose their glory, and get tossed.

Oh boy, this is quite depressing.

But I'm not trying to be.

I sat at the kitchen table yesterday, putting together over 40 bags of Valentine's treats for the friends' celebrations at school today, I was thinking "this is so NOT me". I'm not crafty, I don't always relish the stay-at-home gig. As I was tying the ribbons and then curling them, Ian asked what I had done all day. And to be honest, I had to think about it...and then I realized that I'd gone to get gloves to replace the one that I'd lost, then stopped to get some juices and groceries, and finally to the party store to pick up bags for the treats. Then I picked up the girl from school, delivered her best pal home, took her home to lunch, brought her to a playdate, then came back in time for the boy's guitar lesson.

Mundane, I know. But exhausting nonetheless. Then hubs noticed what I was doing, and asked me whether it was worth all that effort. I almost screamed, "Of course it's worth it! The kids love it, it's important to celebrate friendship, blah blah blah....!" And he backed off. (He doesn't realize the intense pressure to keep up with the other moms for the best treat bag on the block. Seriously, at the holiday party, one of the moms, a lovely lady, took it to a whole new level with her gingerbread man shaped cheese sandwiches and cheddar stars ...).

While I don't like the commercialization of romance, I have no problem with the Valentine concept of celebrating friendship.

(So where is this all going? Oh yeah, back to Valentine's day. This is somehow coming back to the man...)

I think that the key to a good marriage is friendship. My husband is my best friend. He started out as a friend, before all the flirting and passion, there was the fun and the getting to know each other as people. As individuals.

I attended a high school reunion get-together last weekend. I had known about it for a while, but really didn't have any interest in attending. But because of recent events, I suppose it was natural for me to be feeling nostalgic, for me to look back at a time when I was younger, to a time when my parents -- my Dad, was very much a part of my life.

I wasn't sure whether people would remember me. Not only because I look so different now, but also because my last years of high school were spent as the female half of a couple that was conjoined at the hip. We were stuck together like glue... and I was one of those annoying girls who melded her personality and changed it to suit what her boyfriend wanted. Or what she perceived he wanted her to be. Such huge self-esteem issues at such a young age. Not unusual for a 16 or 17 year old. But sad, really.

It's hard for me to look back on that now. And I'm obviously no longer with my highschool sweetheart.

But my husband encouraged me to go to the function, meet up with old friends, and perhaps make new ones. He has always been like that with me. Encouraging me, supporting me, telling me to expand new horizons (and in this case old ones), and not to be nervous or fearful. Having confidence in me. A wonderful friend.

So I attended with my girlfriend; like old times we walked into the party alone, scanning the room for familiar (or almost familiar) faces. Most of the crowd I hung out with are no longer in town, but we found some old classmates, got busy catching up and before we knew it we had been there over three hours. It was fun and it felt good. Because even the people who remembered me however remotely, they talked to me ... about me.

And so this Valentine's Day, I salute all my friends, and give my deepest love to my most important friend of all, my husband, my lover, my partner.

Happy un-V-day hubs - I'll pass on the flowers but sharing the vino will be great...

Boy oh boy

I found this meme on Facebook. I've noticed a rather symbiotic relationship between blogging and Facebook in the last little while. I've kept my "real" life fairly separate from my blogging world up until now, but the line between the two is getting further fragmented. The world is indeed getting a bit smaller.

Let's see how much I remember about my firstborn's arrival ...

1. WAS YOUR FIRST PREGNANCY PLANNED? Extremely planned, as outlined in my infertility saga (part 1).

2. WERE YOU MARRIED AT THE TIME? Yes.

3. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS? Disbelief that it had finally happened. Fear, that it wouldn't last.

4. WAS ABORTION AN OPTION FOR YOU? Never.

5. HOW OLD WERE YOU? 33 when I got pregnant and 34 when he was born.

6. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT? Telephone call a few days after visiting the clinic for bloodwork.

7. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST? The hubby.

8. DID YOU WANT TO FIND OUT THE SEX? No, not really. But Ian had a burning need to know, and if he was to know there was no WAY I wasn't going to know too.

9. DUE DATE? May 18.

10. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS? Not at all.

11. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE? Sweet. I was never much of a dessert person, but while pregnant, I just loaded up. Could be why I ballooned over 45 pounds.

12. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST? The fact that I could rarely get into a comfortable position to sleep. And then those darn excruciating leg cramps... ackkkkkk!!!

13. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CHILD’S SEX? Boy.

14. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING? Not at all. I was just ecstatic to be having a baby.

15. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY? As per above, close to 50. I was huge.

16. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER? Almost one. I went into labour the day that the office was throwing me one. I had him one month early, so there was no way of knowing I would go into labour so soon! I called them on the way to the hospital...they collected the prezzies and delivered them home a few weeks later.

17. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW? Total surprise.

18. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY? No, it was smooth ... I was very lucky.

19. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH? Toronto.

20. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOR? 12 hours.

21. WHO DROVE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL? The hubby Ian. We had to stop for gas ... he got a coffee ("Hey, do you want one?"-- " No hon, I'm gyrating mid-contraction, you may want to hurry it up...,") and we were in the middle of morning rush hour. Looking back, I`m surprised I didn`t kill him.

22. WHO WATCHED YOU GIVE BIRTH? Ian. My mom didn`t even offer to come downtown. She`s a smart lady. As a labour and delivery nurse and trained midwife, I suspect that the last thing she wanted to see was her firstborn going through childbirth. I can totally relate to that. The nurses told me my mom would be appalled with how casual things are today (no gowns, no masks, heck, I even had Diana Krall playing in the background on our portable stereo!).

23. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION? Natural.

24. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN? Eventually yes. I wanted to try without the epidural, but visualizing the beach stopped being effective at about the 6 hour mark.

"The beach is FADING FAST!!!"... And then it was `GET ME THE DRUGS!!!`

25. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH? 6lbs, 6oz.

26. WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN? April 25.

27. WHAT DID YOU NAME HIM? Well, it starts with L, that much I`ll give you. Although if you`ve been reading a while, you`ll already know.

28. HOW OLD IS YOUR FIRST BORN TODAY? 8 years, 10 months.

Where does the time go?

Battle of the Bands

There are some new discs on heavy rotation in this household lately.

I keep pushing for airtime for the following:

but somehow these always end up in the player...

Those last acts, they have a killer promoter. She's beyond Sasha fierce.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

When I was a young girl, I read a lot. All the time. We didn't have a library close by, so while I was in elementary school, there was a Bookmobile that would come every few weeks. I would be so excited to climb aboard to exchange all the previously read books for new exciting titles.

So I've always been rather bookish.

I also loved to write. My favourite part of grade 2 was completing our "news" books every Monday. We would detail the events of the weekend, and complete it with illustrations. I wasn't superb with the art work, but to me, the weaving together of the words into a story, crafting descriptions of an event -- that was the artistry.

I didn't talk much either. I was a VERY quiet one.

But give me a pen or pencil and paper, and I could sit for hours. Scribbling away, the ideas coming up like popcorn in a popper. The stories that filled my mind spilled onto the pages with such ease. The words on the paper, they were my voice.

And today, the words on the screen are my voice. I am not a professional writer by any means. I never even ventured in that direction during school -- I was a science major. You can't and shouldn't be so fancy with data. Just the facts. In biz school there was certainly more opportunity to be "creative" with reports, but it was always in the name of efficiency. No sentence should be longer than ten words. I could whip up a business letter, memo, resume, so easily at the drop of a hat. But real creativity was lacking.

After seizing the opportunity to stay home with the kidlets for a while, this "new" means of communication known as the blog, provided me with the perfect solution to keep my sleep-deprived mommy brain active ... and opened up a brand new community for me at the same time. Reading and writing, through blogging - mommy-blogging, a wave was sweeping the blogosphere, and I was a part of it.

But recently I`ve read about some disturbing incidents in the world of the blog. Over at the talented Tara`s, there was outright copying of some of her posts; and my girlfriend Kelly, the erudite journalist a.k.a. Don Mills Diva was slammed in a most unprofessional manner. Nothing that a little link here or full attribution there, couldn`t have fixed. They are none too happy. And neither am I.

I cannot imagine if someone lifted or misrepresented my words, my thoughts ... my voice. Sure, this is public, and I write about silly things... but I also write about intensely personal matters. And those posts seem to be the ones that speak out the most and touch others out there. Those that I write from my heart.

Although I don`t have near the numbers of readers that these ladies or many other thousands of blogs out there have, if my voice were taken and manipulated, if my words were taken and misrepresented as someone else`s ... there`s only one word that I can think of - violation.

So I am joining another wave, this wave that announces that those of us who blog, whoever we may be, who blog for whatever reason, about whatever we choose to blog about - we deserve, in fact, we DEMAND respect.

Why don`t you pick up Kelly`s ``fackin`radical button`` and join us...

Poof Mommy - or " I have Jennifer Aniston's hair "

...circa 1994.



What the hell?

My usual hairstylist is on maternity leave, so I booked another appointment for a simple cut with the same girl who subbed for her last time. The last time she did a pretty decent job. Even gave me a decent colour.

This time? Does something about my face scream "blow-out"? Or maybe it's because I had my son with me ( he who should have been in school but had me take him home after a sudden GI flu attack on the schoolbus, and then miraculously recovered in time for me to take him with me to my appointment).

I know I'm a suburban soccer mom, but I've never walked into the salon with my hair styled like I was trying to be an Asian Heather Locklear. Not that there's anything wrong with Heather's hair, or with the old "Rachel" style for that matter ... just not for me. The poof doesn't sit well with Chinese locks.

"Don't worry Mom, it'll look much better after you come out of the shower!"

Even my 8 year old gets it.

No Freedom 55 just yet...

It's White Sale season.

I haven't felt much like shopping in the last little while, for obvious reasons.

But things still have to get done. Kids still need haircuts. Trips to the mall are inevitable.

As we were passing through the venerable Canadian shopping institution known as the Bay this past week, en route to the salon, I noticed that there was a sale on House & Home linens. It's a brand I like; not too pricey, but you get that certain look.

I'm a "touch and feel" type of shopper, so I had to pause and take a look at the many colours they had on display. The kids, of course, had to stop in their tracks with me. Not wanting to delay lest they pulled out the "we're not shopping AGAIN now, are we Mommy?" whine, I stopped for no more than two minutes.

As we continued on our way, the Boy said to me: "So, are you shopping to decorate your fantasy mansion, Mom?"

I had to laugh. "Well, not really, we're just needing new sheets, ours are getting a little old."

To which the boy replied: "That's okay Mom. Think about that mansion. Dad's working on it."

Whip it, kid, whip it real good...

Wordless Wednesday - drinking buddies

(one of my favourite photos of all time...)

"Lucky"

Although the loss of my father has just devastated me and my siblings, it's obviously my mother who has been the most affected.

I knew my parents loved each other, I had no doubt about that. After almost 45 years of marriage, they were still very much a couple. They did everything together, went everywhere together, still held hands. But watching them the last month, dealing with my father's sudden, grave illness, it became so clear to me that with my father's passing, it wasn't only the end of a wonderful man's life. It was the end of a beautiful love story.

They were still so very much IN love.

As my brother mentioned to me recently, you often forget that your parents started out as a young couple themselves. Before they had children, they had each other. And after the kids flew the coop and grandchildren came along, they had each other still. My parents faced quite a bit of adversity trying to keep their relationship together in the early days. I've always known of the obstacles they faced from their families when they decided to marry. And yet they persevered, and built a family and a life together.

Sure, they bickered and they argued ... what couple doesn't? And my mother seldom understood the dry wit or the jokes that my father would tell at her expense (a cultural thing, perhaps ... or more likely Mom got it all along and just didn't let on). Mom wasn't too keen on some of the bad habits Dad had, but back in the day, everyone smoked, everyone drank ( Mad Men, anyone?).

During the last six weeks, my mother never left my father's side. She stayed by him in the hospital room, catching sleep on a cot next to him only an hour or two at a time, so that she would be there whenever he was awake, whenever he needed her. And whenever he awoke, he would look out for her first, before anyone else. She did everything for him; and he fought so hard for her.

I caught a glimpse of their special relationship one afternoon when I was helping out in Dad's room. Occasionally Mom would ask Dad a few questions, to make sure he was still alert or to confirm that he was awake. Holding hands, her face close to his, she asked him, "Who am I?"

To which Dad responded : "Somebody".

Mom replied: "Somebody? Somebody to who?"

Dad: "Somebody to someone. Somebody here to test me."

After a little laugh, Mom said again: "Who am I?"

Dad: "My Wife."

And Mom, with a little chuckle, threw this at him: "How many wives do you have?"

Dad deadpanned: "One.... SO FAR."

Mom just cracked right up.

And I turned my face to the wall so that they wouldn't see my tears welling up while I laughed with them.

*****

My mother is a strong woman. She realizes that this is part of the life cycle, and that she's in the next chapter of her life. We're trying to gather around her as much as we can, but she'd like us to get back to our normal lives. Whatever the new normal holds.

But one thing that I know for sure, that I have been a witness to in the last little while:

True love does exist. I've seen it with my very own eyes. I'm a product of it.

And I will be so lucky if, by the time we reach our post-40th wedding anniversary, my own marriage will still hold half of the love that my parents had for each other.
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