When you were a kid, what was the best Christmas present you received?

This was the question my dad posed to us on Christmas day. I couldn't recall a best, per se. Every year it seemed that Christmas was just right. The clothes were balanced out by neat things like Crazy Carpet sleds and Lego and roller skates. Then there was the year I was absolutely convinced that I was getting a cat. Instead of saying no, mom and dad said something like 'We'll see' or 'Ask Santa'. That year Santa left me a book on cats. Mom and Dad dodged the disappointed child bullet by letting the blame fall squarely on St Nick. They probably told me that he couldn't bring pets on the sleigh.

My dad said his favorite was a toss up between a table hockey game and the year he got the entire Boston Bruins uniform - jersey, socks, pants and gloves. I wonder how all the kids playing shinny on the frozen sloughs kept track - how many Eddie Shores and how many Rocket Richards were on each team?

My Auntie Ann said a child's size china tea set was her memorable gift. Her sister, my Auntie Eleanor said it was a doll with brown hair and eyes that opened and closed. They came from a big farm family, and I'm sure that the kids didn't get many special presents - these must have been precious toys. They both remember their mother baking the Christmas cake on Christmas Eve - if it was baked any earlier in the month the boys would eat it all!

My mom said her favorite gift was the year she got skis - they all loved to ski, although the thought of my grandfather on skis makes me giggle. He did a lot of things in his younger days that I have a hard time imagining. I asked my grandma once, how did they meet? She told me that he was her rollerskating teacher, of all things. When they were married, grandma said that one of the other things they loved to do was go square dancing. Do si do grandpa, do si so.

My brother said the neatest toy he received was an electric car set that had a track that went up the wall. He also mentioned that he loved his table hockey set. I think every Canadian household has had one of these at one time or another. My Bryan said it was his most memorable gift as a kid - the teams were usually Toronto and Montreal, the classic NHL match up.

This year I received an interesting present. It didn't come wrapped. It isn't fancy or shiny or even new. It is dull and heavy and has more than a few nicks out of it. It has flecks of paint and dirt embedded in it. A humble tool that has made many things, from bookshelves to tree houses. My grandfather's hammer. Thank you Dad, for passing on this simple gift. I'm still a kid, so I will say that this is the gift that stands out for me, as the best one.

Silver Bells

City sidewalk, busy sidewalks

dressed in holiday style.

In the air there's a feeling of Christmas.

Children laughing, people passing,

meeting smile after smile,

And on every street corner you'll hear:

Silver bells, silver bells,

It's Christmas time in the city.

Ring-a-ling, hear them ring,

soon it will be Christmas day.

City street lights, even stop lights,

blink a bright red and green,

As the shoppers rush home with their treasures.

Hear the snow crunch, see the kids bunch,

This is Santa's big scene,

And above all this bustle you'll hear:

Silver bells, silver bells,

It's Christmas time in the city.

Ring-a-ling, hear them ring,

soon it will be Christmas day.

I hadn't thought of this in ages, but this Christmas memory came to me today.



When I was a little girl, my grandma and grandpa would take us downtown to look at the animated Christmas window displays at Woodward's Department store. Afterwards, we would come home, and grandma would make Carnation hot chocolate (always milk chocolate!) and we would make icing for her famous shortbread cookies. Grandma had all the Christmas albums of the day, but Silver Bells is the one that I remember. Those were the days of vinyl, so Grandma had to carefully place the needle on the spinning record, to get it at just the right spot.





Merry Christmas one and all - enjoy the next couple of days with your loved ones.



God Bless.

So tired. So sore.



Here was my weekend.



Friday:

Get up early. Feed Lily breakfast, put her down for morning nap so we can go to the Despot for 11am. Get Lily up. Dress Lily and load in car. Remember spinach dip to take to work. Go to Second Cup, get coffee and gift card. Go to store. Unload toddler into stroller, balance spinach dip, bread, coffee while attempting to push stroller through unploughed parking lot. Have lunch, exchange gift. Buy electrical supplies that were out of stock last time. Make arrangements to rent tile saw. Go to mall. Watch cranky Santa with well behaved preschooler and wonder what's wrong with that picture. Toddler discovers Velcro strap on shoe. Buy socks, crayons, paper, birthday cards, gift card, shirts and books. Get ice cream for now cranky toddler. Toddler does not lick ice cream cone. She scoops ice cream out of cone. Does not like cold on fingers. Toddler flicks ice cream on table, mom, stroller, her hair, and the floor. Mom throws out cone, ignoring screaming toddler. Change diaper of screaming toddler. Go to book store. Toddler decides to remove one shoe and sock. Buy wrapping paper and something else that I can't remember. Put sock and shoe back on toddler. Go to Starbucks. See 15 people in line for coffee and decide that now cold coffee from Second Cup will do - pretend it's iced. Go to Shopper's Drug Mart. Toddler removes both socks and shoes. Ignore this. Spend Optimum points on stocking stuffers. Pay. Replace socks and shoes again, wrestle toddler into coat and go home. Thank goodness she fell asleep in the car.



Saturday:

Get up early. Have breakfast, walk to parental's house to get SUV. Can't find keys. Wake up brother. Drive to Save On for groceries. Load groceries into SUV. Go to Despot. Rent tile saw. Get new guy. He's 75 and has never used a computer. Try to help. It takes 25 minutes. Load tile saw. Drive home. Unload tile saw. Husband puts tile saw in house. Can not unfold saw. Diagrams for assembly are on a sticker, and read:



Place right hand on bar G. Now unlock spring H while holding down lever J with left hand and tip unit onto front legs. Pull up on handle K, letting safety bar M rest on frame piece N. While holding left foot on wheel P, tilt entire unit back down using left hand only. Now do the hokey pokey and turn yourself about.



Let husband finish setting up saw. Start cutting tiles. Very loud - need earplugs. Cut more tiles. Need more water in pail. Water is now everywhere. Need towel. Toddler screaming - does not like sound of saw. Remember to phone brother - come get SUV. Friend comes over with other toddler. Clean up, and watch toddlers wrestle like puppies. Catch up with friend. Brother arrives - wrestles with the puppies. Give snacks to toddlers. Snacks are now everywhere. Brother leaves. Friend and toddler leave. Cut more tiles. Make supper. Toddler throws supper. No dessert for toddler. Mom and dad eat supper. Toddler wants their supper. No. Tantrum. Tough. Toddler pouts, shakes head and says nononono. Still tough. Cut more tile. Husband gives toddler a bath. Toddler screams when not allowed to drink soapy bathwater. Toddler put to bed. Cut more tile. Call my mom. Mom suggests hot tub. Remind her that I must cut tiles until they are done as saw must be back by 11; can't cut tiles in the tub. Cut more tiles. Hubby realizes we need a gift for Santa's Anonymous. Hubby goes to 24 hour Walmart to get gift, and diapers for toddler. Mix mortar. Spill mortar mix. Clean up and keep mixing. Husband returns with 2 gifts and no diapers. Lay tiles. Lay more tiles. Mark tiles, cut, and make mistake. Geometry not recommended when tired. Lay tile until no mortar and no tile spacers left. Check clock, it's 1am. Go to bed. Tell hubby to wake me early.



Sunday:



Up at 8:30, have breakfast. Get toddler up. Toddler has removed most of her pyjamas during the night. Change and redress toddler. Make large pot of coffee. Mark last tiles, start cutting. Toddler removes pyjamas entirely. Put toddler down for nap. Have hubby call brother to remind that he needs to come by. Clean tile saw. Get porcelain slivers in both hands. Clean tile saw some more. Do the hokey pokey, but it doesn't work, so have husband collapse tile saw. Brother parks in the back. Hubby waiting out front. Move SUV, load tile saw. Clean up while hubby and brother are at the Despot. Make bacon, and pancakes for brother's birthday brunch. Eat. Get toddler up. Feed her pancakes and bacon. Give brother cards, toddler promptly steals cards. Brother plays with toddler, then goes home. Toddler waves and says bye. Parents call - bringing table and chairs in 1 hour. Give toddler snack and put on Aladdin DVD. Toddler happy and quiet. Clean up from lunch. Discover one of the toddlers helped decorate the Christmas tree with a snack bowl and stuffed mouse. Remove decorations and return items to rightful place. Make more coffee. Parents arrive to inspect. Toddler plays, and demonstrates correct usage of the word no by using it in context to something grandpa said. Embellished with pout and head shaking. Grandpa laughs. Grandma and Grandpa leave. Lily waves and says bye.

End of weekend.

(If you made it this far, please send me Robaxacet and a bottle of Bailey's. I'll try not to take them at the same time.)

The tree is up. It took a while.


Why?

Because we have a toddler. And toddlers are curious.

I put the tree up in phases. First, just a tree. No lights. Nothing. I put it up when Lily was having her morning nap. I put the lights on the tree while she was still in the room, so she saw some of the process, but didn't participate. Really - she just watched. And then crawled under the tree.

This is where she learned that trees are prickly. Especially when Mommy purposely points the branches down in order to keep babies and cats from under the tree. That safety issue aside, we used LED lights, because they don't put off any heat. Then I added some non breakable plastic ornaments. She has also left them alone. Well, except for the Mommy-won't-notice-if-I-just-give-this-a-smack-as-I-toddle-by swats at the ones at her level.





Just to be safe, we used bungee cord to attach the tree to the wall. Lily is learning to use say uh-oh, and the last thing I want to hear is a giant crash and





Uh Oh!





We are not going to tempt fate by leaving wrapped presents under the tree.

This is why I work in retail.

A sheepish looking man hands me a receipt and an ugly light fixture and says:

"I bought this light by myself, and apparently, I was wrong."

I waited until he left to giggle.

I won! I won! I won!

Anyone who knows me knows that I never win anything. Scratch tickets, Lotto 649, mail in contests - no luck at all. My husband nearly always wins. Something about a horseshoe...

Imagine my surprise when I checked on one of the websites I visit regularly, and find MY name on a list of people who won a pair of Babylegs from the new organic collection.

Parenthacks is a great site with common sense parenting tips. I check in every day, and had left a post in the thread about Babylegs.

What the heck are Babylegs, you ask? Legwarmers for babies. You can see them here. Lily has 3 pairs of real ones, and 3 or 4 knockoff pairs. They are great under skirts, or with pants - minus the wrestle-the-baby factor of tights.

Thank you Parenthacks! I can't wait to see what we get!

Check out their site at www.parenthacks.com

Ah, the joys of working at the Despot during a full moon. I almost forgot how that wonderful orb affects the general population.

This weekend's gems:

A lady that was astonished that the kitchen she SPECIAL ORDERED had not arrived a mere 48 hours after she placed the order. I was astonished that she had an installer already. Any installer worth hiring is booked well into the new year. I'm sure she just got lucky (snort!) and that her new cabinets will look great. Maybe they'll even be level. Here's hoping they are - she spent $11k on a new corian counter top to go with them.

A couple that somehow thought it was Home Depot's fault that we were not able to replace the receipt and extended warranty information they lost, for the television they purchased over a year ago. Couldn't I look it up for them? After a lengthy explanation that we are not able to look anything up after 90 days, and that really, it was their responsibility to maintain their own records, especially in regards to a warranty, they were still adamant that we were in the wrong. My question for them would have been, 'What possessed you to buy a television from the same place that sells nails and drywall and 2 x 4 studs?'

But I couldn't, so I just bit my tongue and had a manager tell them the exact same thing I told them.

I'm somewhat impressed with myself.

Tonight was my last writing class, and I had some great feedback from my instructor. He handed back our play writing assignment - we were given an article from the Journal, and had to write the first act of a play based on the article.

I am a procrastinator. I do things last minute. I don't think this will ever change. This assignment was no different; I finished it about 3 hours before I had to go to class. So, after pulling the assignment out of...thin air, my instructor thought that even as as first draft, that it could have been developed into something more. As in send it in as a Fringe submission. Yikes!

I really enjoyed this class. I got a lot out of it, but I would say the most valuable thing I learned was that I can write, and that I need to be confident in my abilities as a writer.

Our instructor wants to work with all of us again, and has approached the University about creating a whole new course. The Liberal Studies department folks have tentatively agreed, based on interest of the students, to allow us to do this! It will most likely be a class for short fiction writing, or a short fiction writing class paralleled with creative non-fiction. I can't wait!

I would love to know what part of the space/time continuum that Edmonton Transit Service exists in. Once again, I spent the better part of my evening waiting for a bus that does not appear to exist. I am beginning to believe that somewhere around Gold Bar Park is a black hole that appears only when I need to catch the bus, and it sucks said bus into the dark swirling depths of space, and regurgitates it somewhere near West Edmonton Mall.

My bus is supposed to arrive at my stop at 6:21. The bus may actually arrive at 6:15, or 6:30. One never knows. So I left the house at 6:03, and arrived at the stop at 6:05. PLENTY of time. Too much time. The @#$$%^#& thing didn't show up until 6:36. Guess when the next bus is due to arrive at the stop? According to the ETS Online Trip Planner...6:36. This means that an entire bus is missing.

Parents, wives and husbands - are you missing a loved one? Perhaps we need to send Air One out in search of this lost bus. The passengers probably haven't noticed they are nowhere near home. The teenagers are too busy text messaging the friend that is sitting next to them. The weary office workers are plugged into their ipods, listening to the books they are too busy to read. The bus driver is on autopilot, stopping and opening the door, handing out transfer after transfer, somehow missing the fact that he has skipped an entire portion of the city every time he gets sucked back into the black hole of Route 1.

Now I know why people drive everywhere.

Lily's New 'Do

I have been patiently waiting for Miss Lily's hair to grow long enough to do this. Today, I couldn't resist!

This is her 'picture' pose and smile. Cheeeeesy!

(In the background, you can see what happens when Hurricane Lily hits a room.)

She's such a ham! But a happy ham.

SNOW DAY!


Bryan has been predicting snow for three months. First he said it would snow in September. I told him it was not allowed to snow before my birthday. Mother Nature agreed, and the weather was lovely. Then he said it would snow in October. I pointed out how nice the weather has been the Thanksgiving weekend, for oh, the last 3 or 4 years. He grudgingly agreed that yes, it has been nice. Still no snow. Then he grumbled that it would be a snowy Halloween for sure. Mother Nature was nice to the kids this year, and it was a perfect night for Trick or Treating. (Or so I heard, I was stuck working at the Despot)

How can you not kiss that face?

It finally snowed last night. Lily was too little to play in the snow last year, so this was her first time out in it. Not that there was a lot, but enough to see what it was all about.

We bundled her into her new snowsuit, new boots and new hat. (Hopefully she won't outgrow them by next week.) I think she enjoyed going outside. Here was our day.

No, I didn't wash her face with the snowball...

It was all fun and games, until the toddler hit the sidewalk. A scraped lip, bumped cheek and a lot of tears meant an end to the afternoon. We can't wait to take her out to the park for toboggan rides!

Ack!

I learned today that when one is at the mercy of the ETS bus system, life can go awry in many ways.

My evening was an interesting one. I left at 6:10 for a bus that is due to arrive at my stop around 6:21. This allows me to get downtown with enough time to stop and get coffee before my class starts. By 6:40 (!) my bus still hadn't arrived. It finally arrived at 6:45, packed to the rafters. (Just as we headed downtown, our bus was passed by the really late bus, which coincidentally, was completely empty.) By the time it reached downtown, it was 6:58. My class starts at 7:00. Class usually gets going around 7:10, so I figured I had a few minutes to grab a coffee.

At the Second Cup, I got the new guy. He moved soooooo slow. Like a tortoise. (He needed to sample the goods - a caffeine kick may have helped). After helping him with the till, and showing him (twice) which pastry I wanted, he took my coffee and walked it down to the end of the counter where espresso is picked up. This would have been fine, if I had happened to be at the other end of the counter. Apparently my coffee needed a walk before I was allowed to drink it. Remember, I am now late for class. After asking him where he was going with the coffee, and sorting out that he could just hand it to me from where he originally dispensed it, I was on my way. (I noticed the 'We're Hiring' sign on the way out. If I had a Sharpie...an F would have replaced the H) I know, I know. Be nice. I was. But I was venting in my head...

I arrived at class at 7:08, just in time for my instructor to tell me that he needed my email address to pass on this week's assignment. (Usually he hands them out, but I think there was a copier malfunction somewhere...)

There were no spare chairs, so I had to retrieve one and find a spot. The last one in always gets the crappy seat, and tonight was no exception.

We had to write a short short story (max 500 words) this week. Our instructions were to bring enough copies to class for everyone, so we all had a chance to read the writing. I think that being late and wearing a red shirt made me a sitting duck. Guess who had her story read and used as the take off point for this week's lesson? Yup, your truly. Nothing like having all the attention on you when you want it the least.

I had some positive feedback on the story - my instructor said the writing was lovely and the lady sitting next to me said she really liked my style of writing. Unfortunately, my instructor also said that my story was more word portrait than short story. Well, that's what came out, and we don't always have control over the words that form on the page. Sometimes inspiration and creation have to take precedence over form.

I read the other stories when I got home, and some of the writing was better than mine, and some wasn't. I think that I did a decent job, despite the critique. It could have been worse. He could have said it was absolute crap and picked it apart. But he didn't.

Happy Halloween!

Today Lily went to the hospital to surprise Grandma, and to visit Auntie Eleanor. Everyone smiled at my little monkey. Auntie was thrilled to have Lily visit - she has only seen her twice since my birthday, and is missing her 'little sweetie'.

Lily at our front door...

Hmmm....

I'll bet they have candy!

Well, not really. Because I had to work, and Bryan had planned to go to my Mom and Dad's place, we didn't buy any. This plan would have worked, but for the group of trick or treaters that saw us standing in the living room and rang the bell anyway. Bryan generously offered them Tootsie Pops from his private stash. It was that or granola bars. Come to think of it, we should have done that, as neither Bryan nor I like the Oats and Honey ones from the variety pack we buy. Rats.

Molly behaved like a dog...sniffing butts.

I think she's pretty pleased with herself! (Look at those cheeks!)

Bryan had fun teasing the neighborhood kids at my parent's place. He offered double the candy if they could answer movie trivia questions.

What happens at Grandma's house stays at Grandma's house, but I did hear something about Glossette Raisins and a bag of Cheetos given to a monkey...

It only comes once a year - I think she had fun. We sure did!

(PS: Happy 1st Birthday to Cael K! He won't appreciate it yet, but a Halloween birthday will be really neat when he is older. Think of the parties!)

This is a blog poke to my errant blogger friends. Post!

And a shameless baby picture post.

Yay!
I am back on line with a computer that doesn't need a defibrillator to start up. I attempted to call BestBuy to see if I should bring the computer to them, or call HP to set up the warranty work from there. After waiting on hold far too long, and pressing any and every option I could, I hung up and called HP. Who solved my problem in about a minute.



Here's what they said:

Unplug the computer.

While unplugged, hold down the power button for 1 to 2 minutes.

Plug all the stuff back in and turn it on.

If this doesn't work, call back.



It worked!

I don't have to call back!



As for Best Buy - a big fat raspberry. There is no option within their answering system that allows you to talk to a human being. Even the Despot lets you talk to a person once in a while.



Here are my suggestions for new options for their lovely answering system.



To speak to a Customer Service representative, press 1. We won't actually direct your call anywhere, but waiting on hold allows you to avoid housework, or calls from anyone else. We will pick up as soon as we sense that you are doing something important, or going to the bathroom.

To speak to the Geek Squad, press 2. They are all currently running an 'instance' on World of Warcraft, and can't be interrupted for at least an hour. Leave a detailed message outlining the nature of your computer problem. If they can understand what you mean by 'the cord thingy won't plug into the box thingy so I can get my pictures off my MP3iphoneberry' they might call you back.

To speak to the Home Theatre department, press 3. They won't pick up the call, because they are too busy checking out the newest surround sound system, and can't actually hear the phone.

To hear these options again, press 0. After we play them again, our system will hang up on you. Thank you for shopping Best Buy.

My writing class is going well.

I am becoming more comfortable in the class, and feel confident that I can actually write. I have my doubts sometimes! Part of being a writer is having days when one feels inspired, and other days when it seems impossible to string words together in a coherent sentence. This week we had to write a personal essay. Unlike the boring essays of high school and university, this one was actually fun to write. The fun part of creative writing is the fact that there are relatively few rules to follow. No APA format, no outlines, no opening argument followed by 3 points of interest to be discussed, analyzed and defended within the body of the essay, all wrapped up in a final paragraph. Rigid, boring stuff.

The guidelines for our essay? Start with an observation, a question, an incident. Expand, develop and explore this to the moment of realization, and tell the story. Include imagery and language that will engage and intrigue.

Here's what I wrote:





The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines humor as the mental faculty of discovering, expressing or appreciating the ludicrous or absurdly incongruous. I like to call it the sense of ‘ha ha’. Either you have it or you don’t. My father and I share the same sense of ‘ha ha’, sometimes to the complete chagrin of my mother. While I am quite sure that some appreciation of humor is learned, some of it must be innate and in our family, genetically preprogrammed.

At family dinners, my mom is often heard saying “Stop that!” when she sees my dad catch my eye as the two of us dissolve into uncontrollable laughter in front of her. We don’t even have to point out the absurdity of a situation, news article or conversation; we give each other a look, and the understanding is there. Not everyone ‘gets’ our sense of ‘ha ha’. There are times our explanations of the absurd result in blank stares from those we are explaining to. We don’t hold it against them, we just note their lack of ‘ha ha’ and move on.

As a child and a young adult, I always thought this appreciation of the absurd was a trait only my father and I shared. That is, until I spent a Christmas holiday with my dad’s brother Barry. The holiday week was spent in Victoria with my elderly grandmother, my Uncle Barry and his wife Faye, Faye’s mother Jean, and Jean’s second husband Roy. Prior to this holiday, I had not met Roy, but my father had. My father’s impression of Roy included two observations. First - Roy moved very slowly. (On a previous Christmas holiday visit, Roy took so long to walk down the block that a neighbor became concerned, and brought him a cup of tea so he would stay warm.) Second - Roy wore an old, tatty, ill-fitting wig. Not a toupee; this was not a flap of faux hair secured with double sided tape. It was a full blown wig. My father also gave me what seemed to be an odd piece of advice. “Whatever you do, don’t look at Uncle Barry during dinner.”

It wasn’t until our first formal sit down meal, that I realized how sage my father’s advice had been. You see, Roy’s wig was the proverbial elephant in the room. We all knew it was there. No one was fooled into thinking it was anything other than an unfortunate attempt to disguise a hairline that had not been present in decades. We did not however, discuss the wig or further acknowledge it in any way.

After attending the Christmas Eve church service, we assembled for a late dinner. Gathered around the table, we raised our heads after saying grace. And then it happened. It slipped. It was now askew. Not heeding my father’s advice, I looked at my Uncle Barry. Who looked at the wig, and then looked at me, eyes twinkling. Shaking with suppressed laughter, I am fairly sure I snorted into my wine glass as I desperately tried to cover my face, not wanting to explain what was so funny or why I was laughing. Roy, methodically buttering his bread, sensing that something was up, slowly looked around the table, last looking at Jean who discreetly pointed her chin in the direction of the errant headgear. Roy stopped buttering, set down the knife and bread, paused for a moment, and then carefully moved his hands up to give the back of his wig a purposeful tug. Then he resumed the slow task of covering every inch of his slice of bread with the aforementioned butter. This time, remembering my dad’s advice, I did not look at my uncle. I spent the rest of the meal in conversation with my grandmother and Faye, turned away from Roy and Jean, and avoiding eye contact with Barry, for fear I would start laughing hysterically and have to explain myself. For subsequent dinners, I made sure that I was sitting out of Barry’s sightline, and never across from Roy. The temptation would be too great.

That evening I realized that like my father and I, my uncle and I shared the same appreciation of the absurd, and that it was like speaking the same language. We had the same sense of ‘ha ha’.

Ode to A Black Jacket Part Two (Part One)

Have you seen my black jacket?
A jacket of black.
Whose presence I lack.

I had it once for a short while.
The memories of it
Bring a smile.
A quest to discover
The jacket, the cover
Of down and canvas.
Lost forever?

The jacket is back!
My jacket of black.

It was gone for a time.

With no reason or rhyme.

It was not in a pile.

It was not at the lake.

It was not at the house, nor with a mouse.

The jacket is back!
My jacket of black.

Well, perhaps a mouse or two
May have used it in lieu
Of a nest.
In the garage.
In a box.

The jacket is back!
My jacket of black.

A box, you say? But how?
Looked for high and low,
At the lake.
In the house.
Across the sea.

The jacket is back!
My jacket of black.

You see, it never left,
Though I was bereft.
Wondering, hoping.
'Have you seen my black jacket?'
The plaintive refrain.

The jacket is back!
My jacket of black.

One day a search,
Found on a perch
In the garage.
Cupboards of objects in storage,
Saved for someday.

That day now arising,
A discovery surprising.
A shelf, some spare rackets,
And a box.
Labelled "Jackets"

The jacket!
It's back!
My jacket of black.
Musty, now airing,
Found by hope unerring.

The quest to discover
The jacket, the cover
Of down and canvas
Has not failed,
Faith prevailed.

And I have my black jacket,
My jacket of black.

(For my dad.)

1 year, 1 month, 4 weeks and 1 day.

That's how long it took Lily to learn to walk.

Yes, we have a walker.

She has been taking practice steps - 3 or 4 if you aim her at the couch. Until today, that was all she would do.

I bought her a new snowsuit today. (It's the red one.) I dressed her in it, stood her up and aimed her at Bryan. The little turkey giggled as she walked to her dad. It was so neat that we were both here for her 'official' first steps. This is exactly why it is worth it to stay home with her - we didn't miss the biggest milestone.

She practiced the rest of the night, and by the time she was ready for bed, she was trying to walk with two toys in one hand, while watching her dad and looking for the cat. Still multitasking.

I honestly think she needed a costume -in the snowsuit she forgot to be plain old crawling Lily, and just took off.

I have computer induced writers block.

My computer crashed sometime in the wee hours of Saturday morning. Since Bryan's computer has been relegated to the dark cave that is our basement, I refuse to use his machine. So, in order to write, I had to put my old old old computer back into use. How old? Old. My dad would argue that there is nothing wrong with it. It works fine. That's a matter of opinion and personal preference.

The problem with old computers, is that they are slow. As in, type a sentence and wait patiently for it to appear on the screen. As in, log on to the Internet, then go make coffee and do a load of laundry while waiting for the screen to catch up with my commands. It's not a good sign when you can manually deal cards for solitaire faster than the computerized version of the same.

My main issue with this quaint old machine is that my homework assignment is on the other computer. Luckily I emailed myself a copy of the last assignment, and should be able to retrieve it in order to do the editing exercise required for this week's class.

Ah, my writing class. How is it going, you ask? I am really enjoying it. I like that it is a big class, as it allows me a certain degree of anonymity.( We have too many people to workshop individual pieces in class.) I find it amusing that I am finding it hard to share my writing in a room full of writers, despite the fact that I post on this blog without a second thought as to who may read it.

Last week, in lieu of workshopping full pieces, our instructor had us read the first paragraphs of our stories. One woman in our class has an absolutely beautiful, lilting Carribean accent. She wrote her story in the patois of the area she grew up in, and as she read, I was completely entranced. I wanted her to read the whole story, just so I could listen to her voice.

This week I have the daunting task of rewriting a passage of literature, rewriting it from another point of view. First I have to find a piece that I feel I could tackle. I wish I was at the lake, as this is where a good portion of the Carbol library is housed. Mom, Dad and I tend to read similarly, so we share books. One of us buys, then passes on what we have read. Or, if Dad is taking too long to read something, Mom marks the page he is on, and the book is read by both of them. Back in the days that I could afford missing precious sleep to stay up all night devouring a book, I would take that same book and finish it before both of them could. Now I don't have the time to do that. Instead I offer encore readings of Goodnight Moon, to Miss Lily. She appears to share the Carbol love of reading. Sometimes she gets up at 2am, points to her bookshelf and looks at me as I look at her. Depending on my level of consciousness, I sometimes indulge her in a quick tale or two. After all, I spent many nights reading in bed, well past the time anyone should be awake. I used to turn on my bedside light, and then put a blanket along the bottom of my door so Mom and Dad couldn't see the light escaping into the hall, just to read another chapter or two. Or ten.

I'll have to see what they have at their place tonight. Maybe Dad is in the middle of something that I can borrow for an evening or two.

This weekend we were at the lake for Thanksgiving.

It was a beautiful weekend; bright and sunny. The air was crisp and smelled of burning leaves. It was a wonderful weekend of cooking, visiting and relaxing. It was also our second anniversary. We had a beautiful day, just like our wedding day. I have no more words, so I will let the pictures speak for themselves.

Lily is such a funny little girl. She is trying really hard to say proper words, along with the signs we have taught her, and for the most part we can figure out what she wants. I'll have to teach her 'nap' because her sign for 'nap' is also a hug. It's very sweet, but when she hugs you, and then goes and finds a pillow and hugs it, and then finds a blanket and hugs it, it means she wants to sleep. So much for the love!

She is doing so much - she took 2 steps for me on Friday, and 4 for her Dad. She knows how to woof like a dog, meow like a cat, moo like a cow and baa like a sheep. She can find her head, tummy, nose and toes if you ask her. But if you ask her if she wants toast, she grabs her feet. It's a work in progress.

Yesterday she learned apple, which is funny, since she has no idea what an apple is. I'm allergic to raw apples, so we don't have them in the house. Lily gets applesauce every day, but if you showed her an actual apple, she would have no clue.

Today it was egg. I don't eat these either, but she does. She's been sick, and hasn't been eating well, so we are trying to fatten her up. So lunch today was toast and cheesy scrambled eggs. She pointed to the eggs, and said "Da?" (what's that?) I said egg. As I said it, she was looking at my mouth to see how I said the word, and tried it out herself. It's amazing how they learn language, and remember to use their words and signs in context. She knows what a cat is, and meows every time she sees the cat in the house, or if she sees one in a book or on TV. She even meows at the picture on the toilet paper package when we go shopping.

Her favorite thing (besides shredding paper) is to read and be read to. She grabs her books and sits down on the floor and flips the pages back and forth. If she wants to be read to, she'll grab your hand, slap a book into it and plop down in your lap. Subtle!

Mom and dad looked after her on Saturday while Bryan and I were at a wedding. Mom said that Lily decided it was time to go for a walk - she crawled up into her stroller seat, and looked at my mom. She is one determined child.

Another year. I'm 35 today.



A good friend is turning 40 soon, and we both have joked that we can't possibly be 35 and 40, so we have decided to turn 30 and 35 instead. I have to say that years 30-35 were much better than 20-25.


My brother and I were talking about parenting. I was telling him how I couldn't imagine being a parent in my 20's. When you are in your 20's, you still have a lot of life lessons to learn, and are still discovering who you are. At 30 (something!) you have a good sense of who you are and where you are going. Life is much calmer in this decade -you tend to worry less about what others think of you, instead focusing on what you think of yourself.

Craig summed it up well when he said you can't measure your life by what you didn't do in the past, but by what you want to do now and what you will do in the future. I like that philosophy. Your past shapes you, but it doesn't define you.

Craig and I were lucky enough to have our mom at home when we were growing up. She worked part time afternoons, which meant that she there for us when we came home for lunch. On the afternoons she worked, we hung out next door until dad came home. It was the best. Mom didn't go back full-time until we were both in junior high school, and when she did, she asked us first. Moms always put kids and family first. That's our job.

My life took a left turn when Lily came along. Kids really do change your life. I thought that I would go back to work full time after a year. As my year progressed, I knew that I couldn't do it. She will only be little for a short time; I can't take back that time. I can always go back to work. Looking back at life, no one says they wish they had worked more. It's always about time with loved ones. If you ask someone if they could have whatever they wanted, just for a day, the answer usually involves time with a loved one. So my gift to Lily is my time.

Mom, I know that 35 years ago, you were wondering what would become of that little bundle in your arms. Well, she grew up with one of the best role models a girl could ask for. I can only hope I do as good a job with my little girl. I love you.

My front yard is no longer bare.

This is the before...

It was a bright, beautiful fall day today. (Yes, it's finally fall) Dad took Lily and me out to Millcreek Nursery to pick out her birthday tree. I had my heart set on a birch after this happened, but my dad talked me out of it. I didn't know what I would choose, instead, I let it choose me.











So off to the nursery we went. I found a really neat tree called a Snowbird Hawthorne that will be just perfect. It's going in the front yard, to fill in the space left by the lost lamented birch next door. We planted it in between a dogwood shrub and a nine bark - these courtesy of the 75% off sale at Home Depot this weekend. (I managed to fit 2 dogwoods, 2 nine barks, 2 pee gee hydrangeas, 2 elderberries and 8 pots of blue oat grass in the trunk of the Focus)

Helping Grumpa load the truck.

Lily inspecting the leaves.

Come spring, we are continuing with Bryan's favorite project - The Lawn Eradication Plan. He would prefer to use poison or a blowtorch. Anything to avoid mowing the lawn. Instead, we are being a touch more civilised and will be creating a flowerbed around the tree and shrubs we planted today. More flowers = less lawn. I can't wait to see it in the spring!

That's when you'll get to see the 'after' picture!

You know it's not going to be a good day at work when your computerized till says "Fatal Error" and freezes at the exact moment 5 people line up at your desk.

Remind me again why we are not allowed to drink at work?

Things I overheard myself saying this week...

"Lily, we don't put milk in the satellite receiver."

"Lily, please leave Evan's pants on."

"Molly, please don't eat Lily's snacks."

(Because you can reason with a Labrador Deceiver)

It is such fun being a parent. Someday, I will be a grandparent. That means that I will get to hang out on the bench at Safeway, and wait to ambush unsuspecting young mothers.

Last week I was stopped in Safeway by a little old lady. Seniors love babies, and I usually oblige and let them admire her, answer a few questions and then we go on our way. This little granny had other ideas, and wanted to let me know a few things.

"You know she's going to break your dishes? She will you know, she'll break them."

Followed by:

"Were you good in school? Pretty smart? Well, she's already smarter than you. It's true."

Pow! And then:

"Do you have a husband yet?"

(Yes, of course! ...as I stick my left hand in my pocket - I forgot to put my rings back on after doing some housework. Oops.)

"Good! Is he pretty smart? She's smarter than him too. Kids are always smarter than their parents. They have higher IQ's you know."

We left pretty quickly after that one. She didn't need to know that while I did well in school, my best subject in Grade 11 was what my dad called Mall 101. Let's just say it was a year of testing limits and leave it at that.

I know that I am doing a good job. We all try hard and do what we know best. But that does make me wonder - what on earth made the young mom in WalMart think that a cigarette lighter made a good teether for a baby? Sometimes I just have to shake my head and keep walking.

Dear Mother Nature,

This morning I noticed that there are leaves on my lawn. The Virginia Creeper vines I have been patiently growing to cover my unsightly chain link fence, have turned bright red.

The squirrel has been throwing pine cones down on the roof, and has been hiding said cones in my flower beds.

There will be frost tonight, according to the Environment Canada weather report. A low of -1.

Mother Nature, by the calendar, it's still summer. It isn't fall until after the 23rd of September.

I love the crisp fall air, and the crackle of dusty leaves underfoot. I love the smoky air, and the contrast of the red and yellow leaves against the clear cool blue sky. But not yet.

Let us have our last few glorious days of sunshine and a little heat. Consider it a birthday gift. I would love to be able to sit outside at a cafe on my birthday, sipping a latte while I answer the questions posed by my curious daughter's pointing finger. She will point and listen to my answers, and then wrinkle her nose at me while eating her snacks. She will steal my napkin, and ask for a sip of my latte. She will drop that same napkin, and watch it blow away in the fall breeze, squinting into the sun as we stroll back home.

Fall brings on the next round of family birthdays and anniversaries, and snow follows soon after. Please, let summer linger a bit longer. It's too soon for it to end.

Carrie

Back to school.

It's that time of year again. I just finished completing my online registration for a writing course at the University of Alberta. It will be at the new downtown campus, which is going to be pretty amazing. The bus takes me from door to door, so I don't have to worry about parking.

I have enjoyed blogging, and after some (OK, a lot!) of coaxing by friends and family, I am taking it a step further. I am taking a night class at the Faculty of Extension. What course, you ask?

Introduction to Creative Writing.

I wrote for the school literary magazine when I was in high school - half a lifetime ago. I loved the process of writing a story: weaving plot and character and words together to tell a tale. There is another course I would love to take after this, which is writing Creative Non-Fiction. The introductory course will touch on this, and I am eager to see where the course will take me. I may register for the second course too.

While I love to share my writing with everyone, this course is really just for me. A treat.

I start on the 4th of October, and I can't wait.

And, this means I get to buy school supplies!

I am looking the calendar with a growing sense of sadness. It's September. I have to go back to work. I don't want to.

But we need the income, so I must. Today was my last Saturday as a stay at home mom. I had a hard time talking to Bryan about it - I don't think he understands how I feel about this, and I don't know how to explain it.

We made the decision that I will go back part time, rather than full time. After daycare fees, I would have about the same net income that I would have working part time hours. Daycares, the really good ones, are expensive and have long waiting lists. And I would feel so guilty leaving her in the care of others, where she might say a new word, or take first steps without me. That would break my heart. I know that I am lucky that I will still get to be home with her during the day, but I have always been there to put her to bed. I am going to miss those bedtimes a couple of times a week and it makes me sad.

Of course Bryan will be fine - he's a great dad, and she loves her 'daddy time'.

He hasn't had to be the only caregiver all day though, and I'm hoping that he is OK on the weekend days that I have to work a 9 hour shift.

My mom and dad are not always here on the weekends if he needs a break - I hope that he doesn't get frustrated when she has a 'moment'. She does have them. We are currently engaged in a battle over the corner protector from the TV unit. It's there to protect her noggin. She doesn't understand that, and thinks it's her job to pry the corner thingy off, and either chew on it or bring it to us. When we put the guards up, we attached them with the double sided tape that came in the package. After she took the corners off a few times, the tape stopped sticking, so I tried a piece of Velcro. That didn't work either. Now we are on 3 pieces of Velcro per corner, and she can still pull them off. When we tell her "No" and take her away from the corners, she squawks and goes right back. Sometimes she pulls them off, and looks at us right away and hands the corner to us - she knows she shouldn't be doing it but she can't help it! Tonight, she had a temper tantrum every time we pulled her away, even if we tried distracting her with another toy. I am not enjoying the sobbing and the kicking. When both of us are here, she has the option of going to the parent that isn't being the meanie. If I'm not home, she won't have an option. She probably won't even notice that I'm gone. I will, and that's what I'm struggling with.

My job is being a mom. That's what I do. I hate that I have to leave my job, even for a short time, just to earn money to pay the mortgage. I really wish there was a way to work from home, so that I could be here with her all the time. But, the company I work for is still in the Dark Ages when it comes to human resource policies, so I have no choice.

(Heaven forbid Home Depot join the millennium and look into things like work-from-home, job sharing and flex time for parents. Stepping off soapbox now.)

So, to answer the question everyone has been asking for the past month or two.

I go back to work this week.

This is what we were up to this weekend.

The weekend started with Lily's bath. For some reason, her hair was in a mood, and she looked like a rooster all weekend. Not a curl in sight, just stick straight hair. I tried everything: water, conditioner, lotion, hair product, a barrette and spit. Nothing would flatten it.

Her grumpa thought it was funny.

We stayed at the lake on Friday night, and drove to Fox Creek Saturday afternoon. It was a pretty drive, first through the farm country between Barrhead and Whitecourt, and then through the logging areas around Whitecourt to Fox Creek.

The wedding was my first opportunity to meet Bryan's extended family. They don't gather like our family, and tend to see each other only at events like this. I had met his Aunt Jenny (mother of the bride) at our wedding, but didn't meet his Uncle Russel until this fete. We also met Bry's cousin Robbie, his wife Chantal and their three boys - Aidan (6), Liam (4) and Seamus (2). Included in the meet and greet were the boys' grandparents Eddie and Veronica. They were all really nice, and the boys were just sweethearts with Lily.

(Clockwise from top - Bryan's sister Darlene, cousins Liam and Seamus and Aidan, and Lily)

The boys pretty much mobbed Lily as soon as they were introduced. She had fun playing with the boys, but I think they enjoyed it more. They 'helped' Lily play, but were really gentle and patient with her. It's funny how when kids are around, they will play with anything. We brought a little toy chest for Lily, full of simple toys that she loves. The boys had just as much fun playing with them as she did, even though the toys were only baby toys.

(Logan, nephew of the groom, Seamus and Aidan)

I told Bryan that I would love to have a picture of him dancing with Lily. Unfortunately the music selection didn't cooperate. Lily did finally make some moves to "Ballroom Blitz" but protested to being taken away from the fun. We had to though, so she wouldn't get caught up in the bane of all wedding goers...can you guess what dance the bridal party was doing?

(Please excuse the picture quality of the last one...it was dark, the flash wasn't working, and well, it was the chicken dance...)

Bryan didn't get to dance with either of us - the music was too fast, too loud or too country. Oh well. We have another wedding to go to, sans bebe, in September. I will save a spot on my dance card for that date. After the dance we made our way back to our hotel. We stayed at the Foxwood Inn, which seemed like a better choice than the Grizzly. It looked a bit rough. (This is where my dad would ask if it was a grisly place...) Joking aside, it was a nice hotel, clean and quiet. That's all you really need.

Since the complimentary continental breakfast my sister in law told us about was an imaginary meal, we had to find another option for breakfast.We made our way to the Inn next door to ours and had a pancake breakfast before heading to the gift opening. Lily 'helped' open presents, and did pretty well considering all of the morning activities were taking place during her usual nap time.

Before we hit the road, we had to stop to take a picture of one of the funniest things I have seen in a while:

Even better was that the tower is located directly beside the local RCMP station.

We made it home safe and sound, with a tired and hungry kid. She missed a meal during the day, so we were up for a midnight snack of warm cereal with applesauce and milk. After that she tucked in for the night, and slept until 9:30 the next morning. A good weekend away, but it's always better to be at home.