Monthly Archives: December 2010

The Elderly and the Fireplace Channel

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So no one died or was dismembered from the swim lessons yesterday, happily enough.  They froze, because our lovely city seems to be practicing the utmost frugality when it comes to heating municipal swimming pools, and also it is December, but they are still in one piece.  So that’s a win.

To warm ourselves up, apparently, we have been watching the holiday fireplace channel.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the channel that plays festive music; it is JUST a fireplace, making crackling fire noises.  It’s actually quite relaxing, or would be if the boys didn’t go insane whenever the guy’s arm appears to poke the fire or add another log.  “HE’S POKING THE FIRE!  THERE’S THE NEW LOG!  AAAAHHHHHHH!”  They also like to wonder aloud what would happen if he poked the fire with his bare hands?  Or wouldn’t it be neat if his sleeve caught on fire?  Ah, the warmth and love of the holidays. 

Speaking of festive music, I cannot help myself – I always sing along.  Even, evidently, while shopping at Superstore, like I did today, realizing only when a woman smiled at me that I was singing audibly.  The question arises: what am I going to be like when I am old and crazy?  I read an article in this month’s O magazine that was truly disturbing.  I always thought of my eventual foray into the home for the elderly with fondness: I would be surrounded by other women wearing support hose and feathery lipstick, I would eat lots of soft foods, I would sexually harass the male orderlies.  Maybe I would even learn how to knit or play shuffleboard.  Who knows?  The world will be my aged oyster.  However, according to this article, the foray into the home is riddled with high-school-like hierarchies, depending on one’s level of mobility and ability to match one’s socks with one’s cardigan.  I read that article and felt strangely out of sorts.  Could it be that senior’s residences are not all they are cracked up to be?  Will I really be unable to choose what table to eat my 4:30 dinner at if I have a walker?  Disturbing on many levels.

And what, you may ask, was I doing at Superstore on this fine day?  Shopping for the holiday necessities, of course: booze and cheese.  So I’m all ready for the holidays; if only I hadn’t mentioned to some girlfriends yesterday that we hadn’t been sick for a while…because today it seems I have a sore throat and the tendency to snap at minor issues like my children saying “Mom!  Mom!  Mom!  Mom!” followed with “Um, I forget”.  But I’m sure it’s nothing a little booze and cheese can’t solve!  And maybe an early bedtime.  Good night!

Fake – and Fabulous

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I am sitting right now, seething with anxiety, because my children are both at swimming lessons with their school.  Some of you will know why I am extra anxious this time around, in addition to my usual anxiousness with the kids swimming, and signing those release forms with the school that states that the possibility of injury, dismemberment, and DEATH are all lurking around the corner as the children walk the half block to the swimming pool, not to mention all the dangers in the actual facility.  Some of you might be saying, hey, you’re a stay at home mom and you’re blogging while your children are swimming?  Maybe you should be volunteering to help!  Let me tell you, people, my volunteering at a public swimming pool would not be a good idea, given my penchant for anxiety attacks in public change rooms.  I don’t know when this started; I certainly wasn’t always such a nut, but let’s just leave it at “I don’t volunteer to help at swimming lessons.”
Anyway. 
We’ve had our Christmas tree up for two weeks now.  I live in a fairly small bungalow, and every year the putting up of the tree has required us to move every article of furniture around, including moving some to the basement, just to make space for our five-foot tree.  But this year, we purchased a new tree – a “slim build” – and it is all kinds of awesome.  Check it out!

You can see that it is still kind of wedged between the table and the armchair, but hey.  We didn’t actually have to rearrange the entire floor plan for it – more like just move the table a foot or so.  Decorating the tree is one of my favourite things to do.  The kids pretty much just spin out of control with excitement, we have to lock the dog into his crate because he goes nuts trying to figure out what is with this giant tree and why are the kids so excited, and my husband actually puts the tree together while I sing “Santa Baby” in a slutty kind of voice.  Good times.  We have an artificial tree despite the environmental horror, because three out of four people in this house have allergies and we do like to keep the mucus membranes happy.  I think it looks pretty fabulous, actually.  Here is my favourite part of the tree:

Jake put four of those candy cane ornaments on the same branch, and refused to move any of them because “They are a family!”.  Love that kid. 

This weekend we also lit our strange assortment of outdoor decorations – a moose, a hippo, two penguins, and a miniature tree.  My husband had to do some extensive feats of electrical engineering just to get everything lit, the timer to go on, etc.  It reminded me of one of my very favourite Christmas movies of all time – Christmas Vacation.  “The little lights are not twinkling.” 
All right.  I am still slightly anxious about the swimming but I’m feeling better, so thank you for listening.  I will end with another great line from that movie – a friend reminded me of it – “Holy shit.  Where’s the Tylenol?”

Wasn’t that a party?

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The party was great!  I had full intentions of posting pictures of my outfit, but we had a new sitter and in my anxious getting-ready-to-leave-and-talking-far-too-much (“and the cell number is here, and here, and here”) I forgot to take a picture before we left, and then when we got home I was feeling slightly worse for the wear.  There was great food, lots of wine, and the deejay even played Billie Jean, despite which I maintained my dignity by NOT doing the moonwalk.  In fact I didn’t dance at all, instead partaking in many entertaining conversations, not the least of which was with one woman who regaled me with her stories of visiting “The Happiest Place on Earth” and crying a lot.  I felt an immediate kinship with her.  I introduced myself to one sweet young girl who floored me by saying she recognized me from this blog.  That was both startling and gratifying, and if you are reading this, hi!  Thanks for reading!  Also highly gratifying was the conversation that took place with another lovely young girl in the ladies’ room, who informed me that she loved my hair and wished hers was like it.  Such a thing has never been said to me before, given that my hair is one of my least favourite attributes and the cause of much emotional suffering throughout my life.  In fact, I can summarise an entire decade of bad hair in two words: home perms.  I would do a photo montage of that time if it wasn’t so incredibly depressing.  So I was sufficiently warmed by the kindness of people, and I stayed up until all hours – i.e., midnight – resulting in my feeling quite tired and slightly delicate today.
In other words, I was not in the least prepared for the scenario in which I drove Jake to a birthday party, taking place at a church gymnasium, and realized when we arrived at the church, ten minutes late, that we were actually at the wrong church.  Situation was revolutionized by my actual utilization of my Garmin.  My husband bought me that Garmin two years ago in response to my constant getting lost and hysterical, but I have never independently operated it.  I did manage to use it today, and although I was a bit panicky (“Why is it saying to put in an address for British Columbia?  We’re not IN British Columbia.”) I did end up at the correct church.  However, once we were there and I was oriented, I realized that the Garmin had taken the most circuitous route possible.  Nonetheless, I did get there so Garmin for the win! 
While Jake was spending, apparently, two solid hours in a bouncy castle, I browsed through Bed, Bath and Beyond.  I had never been there before but I always kind of wanted to, all because of the scene in Old School where Frank the Tank describes his potential “pretty nice little Saturday”.  I ended up buying a new shower curtain, to replace our ten year old one, and felt like I just renovated our entire bathroom.  It’s funny how something small can do that.  It’s also funny how my husband’s and my own tastes are incredibly divergent on the subject of shower curtains.  I cannot wait for the conversation when I go to replace our aged comforter!  But that is a story for another day.

Warning: Very Frivolous Post

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It’s December!  The sun is shining!  The snow is slushy!  My husband’s office Christmas party is only tomorrow!
I know the socially acceptable norm is to hate the office Christmas party, especially the HUSBAND’S office Christmas party, but I…don’t.  Frankly, I love it.  I look forward to it every year.  I love dressing up, and eating food that I didn’t make, and drinking lots of wine…and I realize that those are things I could do NOT at a Christmas party, but I love the festivity of it all.  My love for office Christmas parties is so great that I am thinking of a new career: hiring myself out to attend Christmas parties for those women who do not want to go.  It will be like being a Christmas party escort, but in a totally non-skanky way.  In fact, I offered to wife swap for my friend Nan when she wrote about not wanting to go to her husband’s party.  (I think it may have weirded her out.  But Nan!  There’s going to be karaoke!  KARAOKE!  I only wish there was karaoke at my husband’s party.) 
It’s probably fortunate that there is not karaoke, given that my zest for singing far, far exceeds my actual talent.  Related: Mark’s recent report card was very good in every area except music.  “Mark is an enthusiastic student, but requires support when using his singing voice.” 
You know how there are people who are Shoe People, or Handbag People, those who have many of those items and enjoy shopping for them, who change their shoes and/or handbags to go with every outfit?  I am not one of those people.  (I am more of a Coat and Sweater Person).  So I was looking at my outfit for the party: the dress that I bought for last year’s party that I did not end up attending, boots dating from 1999, and my “handbag”.  My “handbag” is actually a well worn, large messenger bag from Roots that is constantly stuffed full with everything from travel Kleenex and hand sanitizer to gloves and five different lip products.  Currently there is also a book of stamps and several grocery lists jammed in there alongside a bracelet made out of pompoms and jingle bells that one of Mark’s little friends made for me.  In other words, it doesn’t really “go” with a party outfit.  Usually I borrow a handbag from my mother – who is not only a Handbag Person and a Shoe Person, but also just a Clothing Person in general.  Girl likes to shop. – but she is currently out of town.  (Note: she just chastised me for not just going over to her house and rummaging through her things until I found an appropriate bag.  Sorry Mom!  I try not to make it my business to just go through other people’s things.  Especially someone’s closet.  Don’t want to find something I don’t want to find if you know what I mean and I think you do.)
Anyway, I really needed to find a handbag, so I spoke to my very good friend who is, without a shadow of a doubt, a Handbag Person and she gave me tips on where to go to maximize my shopping experience.  I followed her directions, all the while breathing deep ujjayi breaths to alleviate my anxiety.  And look what I found!

Cute, right?  A little handbag, all my own!  Not only do I think it is cute, it was on half-price!  Did I mention I love my Handbag Friend?  And boots to replace the ones from 1999!  They are, I think, just the right mix of cute and slutty.  I’m all ready for the party!