Monthly Archives: January 2019

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Cozy Edition

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Friday evening, a mere 28 hours after the installation of my son’s braces, two of the brackets came off his teeth. Despite 26 months of Braces Experience with my older son – who, by the way, broke every single rule in the Braces Handbook – this was the first time such a thing happened. I can tell you that it did nothing to assuage my fears about all the changes in the orthodontist office. Even though it was 6:30 pm, I phoned the office and was connected with the After Hours Line, which redirected me to the previous, no-longer-practicing-and-possibly-disgraced orthodontist. I left a message with very little hope, and then set to google “emergency orthodontia.”

Did you know that a lot of emergency orthodontia can be done at home, with everyday household objects? Alarmingly, there were many tips on DIY orthodontia using nail clippers, needle-nose pliers, and pencil erasers. None of those solutions seemed relevant; instead I helped my son put orthodontia wax in between the two flopping brackets to hold them steady, hoping that the rest would stay adhered to his teeth, so we didn’t end up with a wire held together by two brackets, or something.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I received a phone call from the new orthodontist on Sunday afternoon, apologizing for the delay. He had just received a message from the previous no-longer-practicing-and-possibly-disgraced orthodontist, and wanted to assure me that he could fit my son in at 8:00 Monday morning to fix the issue.

I don’t know if it is just because I finished reading The Alchemist, but I have been seeing signs and omens everywhere. My morning classes were cancelled this week due to some work on the studio, and when I found out about this I was slightly put out. Why my classes? Why those times? Why why why? But now it feels like a divine plan, because I was able to deal with the orthodontist with no stress or rush; if I had class I would not have been able to do so. I also was able to go to Costco, a rare treat to be able to do that first thing in the morning, not only because there are almost no carts left helter-skelter pell-mell in the parking lot that early in the day, saving my mental health, but also because it was nice to have it over and done with before my afternoon class.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should, a line from my very favourite Desiderata, has been going through my head lately, along with trying to notice signs and omens from the universe. I have, officially, reached Peak Yoga Teacher Mode. There have been many things going on around the Boyhouse, and I am trying to keep that perspective.

A few weeks ago my husband was saying that January was just DRAGGING, to which I perkily replied that no, it was flying by, and it was nearly over in any case. It was January 19 when I announced this and things have been moving slowly since then. I can tell you that with all the craziness, outdoor-education events, snowboarding, orthodontia, a minor bout of sickness for one kid, and other things it does feel like a long month, which is silly: it is exactly the same amount of days as most months.

And here we are at the very end of January, and I haven’t yet posted my monthly Favourite Things, so let’s rectify that, shall we? We have had an extremely mild month, although that is set to change dramatically on the weekend. And even a mild January is still chilly, so welcome to…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Cozy Edition

Before we get to all the coziness, I have a few great things to say about January. I know we all like to loathe this month but I’ll tell you, there are some really wonderful things that happen in January. First of all, THE SALES. I actually went to the mall early in the month to pick up my favourite body lotion from Bath and Body Works, and they were blowing out so much stock at 75% off. SEVENTY FIVE. I asked, with some trepidation, if they were discontinuing the scents that I love – notably Sea Island Cotton – but no, they were just changing the packaging. I ended up with ten bottles of lotion with various gorgeous scents for $42. Then I went to The Body Shop and I ended up getting three of my new favourite face mask – this amazing face mask deserves its own post, so stay tuned – for $48, when ONE is priced at $28. I now have enough to last me the whole year, I think.

Another wonderful thing about January is the sunrises. Even in the middle of summer, I am up before the sunrise, so I can say with some authority that January sunrises are the prettiest. I don’t know what it is about winter skies, but everything is gorgeously pinkish-purple. I’ve tried to take photos but they never do it justice; you will just have to imagine. Many days are gloomy and grey here but when the sun comes out and the sky is blue, it’s absolutely beautiful against the snow. A few weeks ago we had a day of thick hoar frost covering everything; I would have taken a photo but my hands were too cold. Again, just imagine it; thick hoar frost on all the trees, white snow, and a perfectly blue sky. I am not generally a Winter Person but I have to give it to the season: it can be very pretty.

Long Thick Sweaters

The very best thing about the dead of winter is wearing thick, cozy sweaters. Here are a few of my favourite looks:

As you can see, I like long, drapey sweaters – especially cardigans. It’s like wrapping myself up in a big hug.

Hand-Knit Things From My Mother-in-Law

My mother-in-law is a knitter, and her knitting knows no moderation. I am the very grateful and happy recipient of many items – you should see the enormous cupboard full of knitted dishcloths I have, in a rainbow of colours. For Christmas about nineteen or twenty years ago, she knitted me this grey sweater. It is my “home sweater” that I wear when chilled and need of comfort. I am much smaller now than I was then, so it’s lovely and large on me, and I can wrap it around myself even when I have a few other sweaters on, not unlike Joey Tribbiani when he is wearing All The Clothes.

The sweater matches the roots, and no weird euphemism implied.

She also has knitted me many pairs of legwarmers, that I slip over my yoga pants or skinny jeans to keep warm while dog-walking.

Bonus downward dog shot!

Her latest gift to me was a pair of booties. She has knitted me slippers – I am wearing them right now – but she decided to make long booties for when I’m cold inside the house.

You know that meme that says “we all have that friend who is always cold” that is accompanied by a photo of a person in what looks like a giant thick sweater from head to toe? I think that may be next. What can I say, my MIL is generous and talented with the knitting needles!

Fancy Tea

When it comes to hot liquids, I am generally a Black Coffee Girl.

Hashtag: TeamNerd

Last Mother’s Day, the boys bought me this adorable turtle mug – the turtle changes colour with temperature – and some fancy tea from David’s Tea and I tell you, I cannot go back to regular grocery store tea. I will not go back. I have been forever ruined. My husband actually said I can’t believe we found a way to make you more expensive which was a tiny bit uncalled for. But also maybe a little true. In any case, I only have tea one or two times a week, and only when it is really chilly and I am home in the afternoon. Cinnamon Rooibus Chai is my absolute favourite, but I’m also a big fan of Just Peachy and Forever Nuts.

So you see, there are many wonderful things about this – and every – time of the year. And even if I haven’t convinced you to love all things cozy, well, January’s OVER now, for another eleven months. xo

File Under “Landslide”

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This week my older son and I went to the open house for the high school that he will be attending in less than eight months. It is a very strange feeling, having a child prepare for high school, and it is a feeling I will go through again next year at this time. Before you know it, the nest will be empty and I will have many extra hours a week, that are currently consumed by grocery shopping and food preparation.

This is very much a Landslide Moment; I recall my high school years vividly, and here we are. HERE WE ARE. I will say this though, as a neutral comment: elective classes are much, much more interesting than they used to be. I am actually very hard-pressed to remember what my electives were in high school; drama, I suppose, and French, perhaps? I don’t recall there being too much variety but at this school there are all sorts of things: mechanics and foods, robotics and computing, financial management and marketing, drama and music, sports medicine and yoga, cosmotology and design studies, and a number of languages including Mandarin. So it is an exciting time for a soon-to-be-fifteen-year-old. It’s exciting for me as well, to see his interests take off.

Also exciting for him is the Winter Camping Trip he’s going on next week, or, as the informative email subject line read, the ENVOE 9 Winter Adventure Overnight Trip. Adventure seems to be an apt term as a group of twelve Environmental and Outdoor Education students are being bussed to Yoho in BC, and then cross-country skiing twelve kilometers with elevation gain to a backcountry cabin, where they will melt snow for drinking water and build a snow shelter, with the option of sleeping in said snow shelter. I love cross-country skiing, I love the outdoors, I love Yoho, but my god, this trip sounds like my actual personal hell. All that would need to be added would be a thousand ice zombie moths and the nightmare would be complete. The kids are packing in everything that they will need, food included, for the two night trip and honestly, it sounds dreadful. My son, obviously much hardier than I am, is very much looking forward to it, and one of my girlfriends – whose son is also going on this trip – enthusiastically recalled a winter camping trip from her youth as being one of the highlights of her teen years. I am actively working on keeping an open mind, or more accurately, thinking better you than me, buddy. 

I will say that the parent information night did nothing to assuage my secret fears about this trip; if anything, it exacerbated them. The teachers in charge are both strong outdoor enthusiasts, the dads who are volunteering on the trip also seem similarly hardy and woodsy, but the following statement was not reassuring: I will have a satellite phone in case of emergencies, but I need to point out that due to our remote location, emergency crews will have a much longer response time. They SHOULD be able to get through via the fire road, but it will take longer. Also not great was pointing out that the area is considered “low risk” for avalanches, but the nearby lake is considered “Class 2 Higher Risk” but we probably won’t spend much time around there. PROBABLY?

I had to employ my ujjayi breathing techniques throughout the whole meeting, along with figuring out how to send lunch for Tuesday and Thursday, keeping in mind we don’t have any food storage facilities.” I stared at the What To Bring list with mounting panic, culminating in a long underwear, we need to buy long underwear, and OMG wool socks internal dialogue. Rather than feeling relief at the information divulged or excitement for the adventure to come, I just felt increasingly overwhelmed, which was manifesting in anxiety about the What To Bring list. Do we have a 60 L backpack, DO WE?

I am now eternally grateful for two things: that my husband never Kondo-ed his own drawers and therefore has all the high-quality, if dated, outdoor gear he purchased back in the nineties, and that he and my son are nearly the same height, albeit with a seventy-pound weight difference. As it turns out, he had every single thing that was needed on the list, to my great relief, and it ALL FIT, more or less.

We have been having an extraordinarily mild winter, so Wednesday’s blizzard, complete with white-out conditions and high windchill, felt like a bit of a shock. That also happened to be Grade Eight Ski and Snowboard Day, when my own grade eight child was to head to Canada Olympic Park for his introduction to snowboarding. All through the day I thought of the poor, frozen children on the ski hill. I loaded groceries into the car with the wind whipping my hood off my head, thinking sympathetically. I fully expected a poor report from said child but when he got home he raved about how much fun it was, how much he loved it, and no, he wasn’t cold, why do I ask?

Well, that’s another good reminder that we are not our children and also that an important part of parenting is to not project our feelings. Based on both the opting for Winter Adventures and the enthusiasm for snowboarding in terrible weather conditions, my children are much, much hardier than I am, not that I particularly needed further proof of that.

One of my biggest failings/ flaws is my inability to really roll with the punches. I am a highly organized individual, and I kind of fall apart when things change. Last week the orthodontist office called to reschedule an appointment, which has never happened before and which filled me with annoyance. By the way, what is it with orthodontists? Me: Could I get an appointment quite late in the day? Orthodontist office: Sure! The latest we have available is 1:30. Anyway, yesterday I took my son to get his impressions, in anticipation for getting braces on next Wednesday.

First: the appointment was rescheduled because the orthodontist, who just bought the entire practice from the former, retiring, well-established orthodontists, is no longer there. I tried very hard to be sympathetic – maybe he is terminally ill! Maybe he has a major family emergency! – but all signs point to maybe he has some major financial issues or possibly some sort of shady licensing thing going on. Let’s try very hard not to think of that too much. Second: the new orthodontist Does Things Differently and so when we showed up to the office, the office that was in total chaos because the staff only found out about this big change on Monday, we were told that impressions were not to be done. In fact, the braces were going to be put on NOW, THIS VERY MINUTE.

My internal dialogue went something like, now, omg, not now, my dinner plan for tonight doesn’t include soft foods, I’m not ready, no, not now, I’m too structured, I’m completely closed off whereas my son shrugged and said, “Okay, let’s do it, just put them on now.” I should be striving to be more like this, rather than waking up in the night and fretting that this man was actually not an orthodontist and what if the office closes forever and what will we do about my son’s braces?

Breathe. Just breathe. And rewrite the meal plan for the week. The children grow up to be their own people, and while I might be afraid of changing, they are not.

Age is just a number: FALSE. Age is a word.

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“I finally figured out who you remind me of!” a man, who I have known these past two years, said to me the other day. I waited, smiling, and was not at all prepared for the big reveal. “Charlene Prickett! You are so much like Charlene Prickett.”

There were a few other people around us at the time, and they all chimed in that yes, they could really see that, and yes, that’s exactly it. Charlene Prickett, local celebrity and the star of the television fitness program It Figures, whose popularity soared in the 1980s.

I take this in the spirit in which it was intended; our personal styles might indeed be very different, but Charlene Prickett was a BOSS when it came to accessible home fitness routines. And I might not be one for brightly-coloured bodysuits and tights, but I think we can all agree that legwarmers make for an amazing wardrobe.

The last time anyone told me that I reminded them of a celebrity, it was in the mid-nineties. A very inebriated man told me I looked exactly like Shania Twain; our hair colour and cut were fairly similar in that era, and also I was wearing a denim vest over a white tank top. As I said, though, the man was not a particularly accurate judge, given his level of intoxication and probable intent of obtaining some sort of sexual favours from me, a woman who should have been thrilled to be compared so favourably to a country music sensation but was, instead, nonplussed.

Thanks to the recent Facebook “aging challenge,” the last few weeks have seen an influx of photos comparing a person’s current appearance to that of many years ago, a comparison that I find very interesting. I truly think that the people I know have all improved with age, not just in appearance, but also in spirit and personality. Society likes to disparage aging but really, it’s a wonderful gift. I may have massive Bitchy Resting Face and hair that requires colouring every five weeks due to grey roots that I am unable to embrace just yet, I may have Crypt-Keeper-level forehead wrinkles and marionette lines, but I am very happy with my life and, by extension, my appearance. Happiness makes you shine, or some such inspirational quote.

Sure, I might not have the youthful look and perky bust that I did in the mid-nineties, but at least I’m not wearing ill-advised denim vests. With age comes wisdom, I suppose, and hopefully better fashion decisions.

If you look closely, you can see where the belt buckle is situated on my torso – approximately two inches from the bra line – and also that I am wearing a knotted crop top. With denim shorts. This was in 1997, in my defense, and is likely in style right this minute. Well, it’s January, so perhaps not, but let’s wait to see what happens when the snow melts.

I’ll tell you what has not aged well: my kitchen sink. This is perhaps an overstatement; the sink itself is just fine. However, on Saturday I was washing dishes and suddenly the sink became detached from underneath the countertop and started to slowly tip forward. I did what any strong, invincible woman would do: I started screaming. My husband – after draining the sink – jerry-rigged a support beam from an extension rod used for paint rollers before whipping out his circular saw and building a more solid one out of wood. Where did he get the wood? I have no idea. It’s a good thing he didn’t Kondo his workshop, I guess.

The plumber came to fix the sink more permanently on Monday, and praised the solidity of the support beam. Even though it’s fixed now, I’m planning to leave the beam in probably forever, just in case. We don’t see undermount sinks come apart very often! the plumber said cheerfully, which made me wonder about the workmanship of everything in my house. Can ALL the sinks come detached now? Is this just something that’s waiting to happen?

I am not, obviously, very good with house-related issues, but I’ll tell you what I AM good with: quoting the entire screenplay of When Harry Met Sally. I discovered that the greatest movie of all time was released THIRTY YEARS AGO last weekend, and since I saw it in the theatre, well. Thirty years! It’s been three decades since I discovered my fictional twin; even back in 1989 I was too structured, completely closed off…but in a good way, and I am always cold when it’s 72 degrees out. I do not have days of the week underpants, but there’s still time! As far as I’m concerned I haven’t even hit middle age yet – I’m hoping to live past 86 – and so maybe that will be a thing for me when I’m in the Home. But there definitely won’t be a Sunday. Because of God.

Life Luxuries

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“I remember you!” the cashier at Superstore said to me yesterday as she weighed out six pounds of red peppers and sixteen pounds of bananas. “You’re the lady with the teen boys who eat all those vegetables!” That would be me. I’m Superstore Famous!

They eat a lot of yogurt, too.

It’s an absolute luxury to be able to feed my kids fresh, nutrient-rich food every single day. It really is. I mean, think about it: we can buy any fruit or vegetable we want, in any quantity, ANY TIME OF THE YEAR. Isn’t that incredible? It is really, truly, a luxurious, incredible thing. I can buy eight pounds of grapes – which will, hopefully, last me a week – in the middle of January. Two or three generations ago we would have been all relegated to root vegetables and canned fruit, and a few generations before that? Very little fruit at any time of the year.

When I think about it, every single component of my life, and most likely yours as well, would be considered an enormous luxury for a very large proportion of the global population. Daily showers, with soaps and cleansers and little exfoliating masks, using hot water that is available any time from the turn of the tap, sleeping at night in a comfortable bed with warm covers and clothes in my heated house, easily accessible public education and health care. I drink four litres of water a day, all perfectly clean and from my tap. This very morning I chose to run on a treadmill, watching the sun rise, purely for exercise. And the laundry, my god, why would I ever complain about the laundry? I put clothes in one machine, and then transfer them to another or to a drying rack, without ever having to haul the water or scrub the clothes or carry baskets of wet laundry on my head. Every single moment of every day is a goddamn miracle, and we should all be thrilled just to be here every second.

Well. That’s not exactly how it works, does it? I count my blessings every day and I feel grateful every day and yet I might still complain about the amount of time I spend washing dishes, in my miraculous sink with hot water and soap at my disposal. That’s just being human; just because someone else has a terminal disease does not mean we cannot complain about a miserable cold. Just because someone else is unemployed does not mean we cannot complain about a bad day at work.

I was thinking about the word “luxury” the other day, as I noticed a long comment thread about the “luxury” of getting rid of things that don’t spark joy. There has been a large uptick in the number of snarky and disapproving comments about Marie Kondo; I couldn’t figure out why, as her amazing book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up came out years ago. Ah, but apparently there is a new television program called Tidying Up, which has apparently rubbed people the wrong way. I haven’t seen it and probably won’t, since as longtime readers may remember, I happily Kondo-ed my life a few years back.

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up literally changed my own life. I implemented most, if not all, of her strategies; to this day that book affects how I purchase and consume things. I roll my socks and stack my sweaters sideways. I keep all my bathroom items in neat cardboard boxes for easy access. If I don’t have a use for something, or if it doesn’t Spark Joy, I donate it.

It’s definitely a luxury to be able to do that, but this is where I circle back to my original point: our entire lives are luxury, comparatively speaking. Sure, maybe we would define luxury in a different way, like being an heiress or just living completely hedonistically, like Cleopatra drinking pearls or similar, but the reality is that we all have these wildly beautiful, incredible lives. I mean, my god, we can VOTE. We can vote and own things and we can get medicine when we are sick, we can be educated and wear clean clothes and if we want to visit another country, WE CAN DO THAT TOO. Sure, some things cost money and we may have to work for that money, but ultimately work is allowing us to live in this manner. Following that, work allows us to Spark Joy.

So yes, it might be very luxurious to just get rid of things that are not Sparking Joy Within Us. It’s a pure luxury to get rid of a perfectly good shirt, just because the colour doesn’t suit or that it was purchased several years ago. We are very fortunate indeed to be able to do just that.

Further to the conversation, a woman I know commented that stated that material things do not bring her joy; her joy is derived strictly from non-material things. I will confess that I derive a lot of joy from many, many material items. Every single day my blender, my jewelry, my clothing, my house, my piano, my books, that fancy brightening face mask from The Body Shop – all of these things and many more Spark Joy every day. I am, apparently, a Material Girl, living in my very own Joy-Sparking Material World.

Do you ever see comments about something you love and feel badly that you love it? That’s how I felt, ridiculously enough, after seeing so much negativity about Tidying Up. This is silly; why should I care what anyone has to say about a clutter-controlling methodology? One of my goals in 2019 and beyond is to just rise above such comments, and not allow them to penetrate my psyche, not just about Marie Kondo, but about everything that brings me joy. Further, I have decided that life is short and I have no time, none, for the following: passive aggressiveness, constant unmitigated outrage, unkindness, meanness, and, especially, smug commentary that make people feel badly about things they enjoy, be it music, books, food, or the way a sock drawer is organized.

The Studio Audience

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Happy New Year! As I write this, on my desk are two brightly-coloured paper hat, two Hawaiian leis, and two noisemakers that the boys brought home from an early New Year’s Eve party. Picture loud, family-friendly dance music and what appeared to be several thousand – although it was probably only twenty – children all blowing into noisemakers. When we left my husband said that he suddenly had a headache, which, no kidding. But a good time was had by all, and meanwhile, I was asleep by 11:15.

I know we are all supposed to loathe January, with its cold and dark – although, less dark than December – but these first few days of the month, I love. I love the feeling of new beginnings, although September always feels much more like a new beginning to me. January resolutions tend to be continuations of September resolutions, which is okay by me. I have the usual health and fitness resolutions – no specific goals, but a continuation along my path – and also such goals as “read more,” “buy less stuff,” “less social media,” “pay attention,” and “notice the moment.”

One of the reasons that I think many people are anti-resolution is that their resolutions are much too specific or too overwhelming. Small steps add up, people! There’s no need to go cold-turkey on everything you love, but maybe, just maybe, add a few small things that will improve your health and welfare. That’s my take on it, anyway. If there are ways that can make me a better person, why wouldn’t I try them? Resolving to be kinder, more aware, and to give the people I love more of me.

I also have a resolution just to make that damn dentist appointment already. I loathe going to the dentist, I hate that it takes up a whole afternoon, I hate trying to fit it into my schedule, I hate having my teeth scraped while silently staring into that overhead light, and most of all, I hate hearing that I use the “wrong” kind of floss. I FLOSS EVERY DAY AND I WILL NOT USE THE NON-DENTAL-TAPE-FLOSS, YOU CANNOT MAKE ME. I also am trying not to feel overwhelmed with a) my younger son getting braces this month and all the related appointments that go with it, b) parent meetings for my older son’s absolutely insane winter camping trip, c) HIGH SCHOOL PARENT ORIENTATION NIGHT, HOW DID WE GET HERE, LANDSLIDE, d) everything else that happens in a normal month. When can I fit my slightly-overdue dental appointment in? Maybe I should wait until February.

Today is my first day back at work since December 21, and it has been so lovely having this break with my husband and kids. Our house has been so relaxed, we’ve all caught up on sleep, and all those little jobs around the house have gotten done. My husband and older son took down all the outdoor lights and decorations, and our front yard now looks extremely desolate. Between Christmas and Halloween, it’s been a while since we have had an empty yard. Not to mention that in the right season, my garden adds some lovely cheer to the front of the house, but now, thanks to Chinooks melting snow, it’s just a mix of brown grass, dead plants, and dirty snow.

Well, I’m not going to complain. The weather has been very mild for January, so I’d rather have melted, dirty snow than what January usually has in store for us. The kids have been using the trampoline, which really says something. I brought groceries in without wearing gloves, which says more.

Oh, I’ve enjoyed this break so much, I don’t want to let go. Before the break an equally-burned-out friend of mine (HI JAN) said, “I just want to drink coffee and watch a movie” and I totally related to that. My entire goal this break has been to get up and drink coffee in my pajamas for hours, which I have done every day. What a treat! No rush to go anywhere or do anything. It’s a beautiful thing.

Eat your heart out, Jan, we also watched a movie yesterday, Spiderman: Homecoming, which was pretty good and I only fell asleep a couple of times. That’s a big win for me; I think I deal with onscreen action/ conflict by falling asleep. Also, it really challenged my perception of Aunt May; Marisa Tomei looks great, but I really disagree with those pants.

We have also been watching the occasional morning game show, such as Price is Right and Let’s Make a Deal. I tried to explain the Monty Hall statistical problem to the kids but it turns out there are no longer goats involved in the new Let’s Make a Deal, or a second door being opened, so the statistics don’t work anymore. The Price is Right, though. That show hasn’t changed and it’s still as exciting as ever when the little mountain climber comes on or they announce that Plinko is the next game or that the next prize is a NEW CAR. We even saw one guy get $1 on the big wheel and then he went on to win a sweet Showcase Showdown, and we were all screaming with happiness like we were actually in the studio audience. Wouldn’t it be nice to cheer on other people as they just go through life, like we were in a studio audience? Being happy for others as they succeed, sharing in their disappointment with empathy when they do not. Life goal: to be in the studio audience.