Author Archives: Nicole Boyhouse

Goodbye, decade

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Ah, New Year’s. Sometimes New Year’s feels like a bit of a weird competition, what with the fancy parties, and the resolutions, and the staying up until midnight, which is a mighty challenge for me. I tend to react to New Year’s somewhat indifferently. Meh, it’s New Year’s. Tonight I plan on celebrating Newfoundland New Year’s, which means that in Newfoundland it is midnight when it is 8:30 in Calgary. So I’m going to get my party on and still make it to bed by ten. So, if you’re someone who is feeling somewhat bitter about your particular celebration – it’s not quite fancy enough, or exotic enough for the ringing in of not only a new year but a new decade – you can think of my celebration and perhaps feel a bit better?

The truth is I like it that way. Also, it is an enormous improvement on my celebration last year. Last year I – by myself – drank a bottle of red wine, ate a giant plate of nachos, and watched Anne of Green Gables – The Sequel on Access. My husband and the kids were sick, so that’s why the wild solo party.

I wonder if I made any resolutions. I can’t really remember. Maybe I made a whole list and kept them all, and I don’t even know it. I know I accomplished things; for example, I got measured for my actual bra size, and when they picked me up off the floor from the shock of how deflated I am, I bought a bikini. I took both kids to a clay sculpture class, and I survived. I fixed the gutters! I made the world’s worst gingerbread house! So let’s just say that those were my resolutions, and I kept every last one of them.

Disjointed cinematic thoughts

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“What is with your health?” my husband asked, watching me blow my nose for the hundredth time. “Maybe you need more protein.” I looked at him silently, then raised my eyebrows lasciviously, and burst into giggles. Because I am all grown up and mature like that.

My sinuses feel like they are out to get me. My very lovely yoga teacher, who is also a nutritionist, advised me to stay away from sugars to obtain maximum immunity from illnesses. It was working really well until the Christmas season and its demands on me to consume my body weight in mint chocolate. So I’m back on my no-sugar plan because frankly, pressing my hands dramatically against my sinuses and complaining is getting old.

But back to my protein giggles. My standard of humour is very low. Someone slips on a banana peel? Hysterical. A wedding singer drops the F-bomb in the movie Old School? Side-splitting. But even I did not find The Hangover funny. In fact, I felt like I morphed into some prim elderly lady who is continually shocked by the downfall of society. “A baby in a car with no car seat? That’s just not funny. I mean, that’s irresponsible. I know it’s a movie. I know. But it’s just stupid.” I ended up going to bed mid-movie in protest, which is where I wanted to be anyway – it was past nine o’clock.

We’ve been watching a lot of movies over the holiday. It’s been great to catch up on films from the last decade or so. I gave my husband the X-Men trilogy for Christmas and I now have a small crush on Wolverine. “I can see why Hugh Jackman is so popular!” I kept saying, in step with people newly relieved and annoyed that the whole Y2K phenomenon was such a hoax.

My husband – without me – watched the new Star Trek movie. I have never once seen an episode of Star Trek, and it occurred to me that it is an entire cultural phenomenon that I know absolutely nothing about. Nothing! I grew up with two brothers, both of whom were into superheroes and Star Wars, so I have a whole untapped mental catalogue of information pertaining to those topics, but I have no clue what Star Trek is all about. “Are they like, aliens traveling around in space ships?” I asked my husband. He stared at me for a few moments, then said, “Yes, Nicole. That’s what it’s all about. Aliens traveling around in space ships.”

All of which is to say, I need some more sinus medication. And maybe some protein! Tee hee.

All is Calm

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The tree and decorations are all taken down and boxed away. I am enjoying the feeling of opulence that obtaining extra living room space, formerly occupied by said tree and decorations, can bring. I am no longer performing gymnastic feats merely to close the drapes. Last night I curled up on the couch with a glass of wine that I could set on the end table, which was previously banished to make way for the tree. The house has been decoration-free for twenty-eight hours now, which was twenty-four later than I wanted it to be.

It was a lovely Christmas, and I would post pictures of the many, many lovely moments that were captured on camera, had Mark not inadvertently deleted everything on the camera after he photographed the tree “one last time” before it was dismantled. I would be angry about this, but he was so unbelievably heart-broken it was all I could do to comfort his hysterical sobbing. “I can’t believe I deleted the Christmas pictures!” he cried, the personification of devastation. ME EITHER, I didn’t say, but thought sadly.

Oh well. I was so thoroughly spoiled with gifts – Pajamas! Yoga mat! Earrings! A robe that fits me and does not feel like burlap, unlike the relic I’ve had for 12 years that saw me through two pregnancies and massive weight gains and losses! – that even the loss of Christmas pictures can’t spoil my happy, post-Christmas feeling. Some of the pictures would have been frightening anyway, given that I spent a solid two hours Christmas morning building Jake’s Playmobil farm and swearing. I had to send the kids out of the room so they wouldn’t be forever scarred by my mental collapse. “STOP TALKING, I’M TRYING TO SET UP YOUR MERRY F***KING CHRISTMAS GIFT, G**DAMMIT!!!” That’s not so much the memories one wants to make, is it? So while I followed twelve pages of directions, soothing coffee and Bailey’s in hand, the boys played in the living room while Rob attempted his own acts of engineering, changing oddly complicated Transformers from vehicle to robot form.

I will leave you with a most amusing joke that my sister-in-law told me about. My nephew had heard this joke on the radio, and, not understanding, asked my brother about it. What is the difference between Tiger Woods and Santa Claus? Santa Claus stopped at three ho’s. My brother told my nephew he would explain when he was older, but yes, it is a good joke.

…and Merry Christmas!

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Thank you so much for reading this blog. It means a lot to me!

I hope you all have a lovely Christmas, whatever you are doing. I am crossing my fingers for a relatively healthy holiday, and I am also completely drunk with power as regards the opening or not opening of gifts. “Kids who complain get their gifts given away to kids who do not complain” is one such utterance from my mouth, as well as “Boys who don’t speak nicely don’t get to open gifts on Christmas morning”. Pretty soon I will have them mopping the floor and singing “The sun’ll come out tomorrow”.

Today I’ve already partaken in a few of my Christmas favourites: Bailey’s and coffee, bread with goat cheese and balsamic vinegar, watching the Holiday Fireplace on TV. It’s sure to get better what with a planned viewing of Elf later, along with a dinner made up of appetizers and a bottle of wine. Tomorrow it’s off to my parents’ for dinner and, more importantly, chocolate Yule log.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Happy Festivus!

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This is not really a ranting type of blog. I’m not so much a ranting girl. But it’s Festivus! Grievances must be aired.

I have a major grievance against people who send their contagious kids to school, or allow their contagious kids to be in confined public spaces with other non-sick children. Especially the week before Christmas. Even when Santa is visiting the pre-kindergarten class. Especially when the contagions are of the vomiting variety. Jake is feeling much better – heartbreakingly skinny, but better – but now Mark is unwell. Today I had two things to accomplish: I needed to take the dog to the groomer’s and I needed to buy groceries. It’s minus 20 and I didn’t think that taking out one recovering child and one potentially vomiting child was a particularly good idea, so I accomplished both tasks before my husband left for work. Which meant I went out while still in my sweaty yoga clothes. And I didn’t have makeup on. This might not be a big deal to all you “I couldn’t be bothered with makeup” girls, but I apply a nice fresh coat of lip gloss prior to walking my dog, so going to the grocery store makeup-less and sweaty is actually a big deal for me. Blah, blah, vanity, blah, blah, I know. So here is the chain of events: a still-contagious child is brought to the pre-kindergarten Santa visit, and I end up in the grocery store with no makeup. No good can come of that.

I read a magazine article about a woman who spends thousands of dollars a year buying Christmas gifts for 150 people. I don’t have a grievance against that, per se, but at the end of the article the woman says that Christmas Day is a great time to get ideas for the next year’s gifts, because people are always talking about what they wanted and didn’t get. Really? Who are those people? I have a grievance against those people. Someone gave you a gift and it wasn’t what you wanted? It’s a gift, you asshole. A gift. You want something else, go out on Boxing Day and buy it.

Hey, it’s kind of fun, this ranting thing! Too bad it’s not Festivus every day.

Other grievances which just irritate me so much I don’t even want to spend my mental energy on them include the words Gosselin and Balloon Boy, people who don’t have children but have very strong opinions on how children should be raised, people who have road rage in parking lots, and elderly people who really should not be driving who are driving gigantic vehicles which almost run over you when you are walking with your four-year-old in the Co-Op parking lot. Although, my mother-in-law tells this hilarious story about an elderly lady who drove through her beauty parlor window – no one was hurt, but the ladies sitting under those big hair dryers were pretty shaken up. Evidently the woman meant to put her car in reverse, although it seems like that would have been just as disastrous, an elderly woman speeding in reverse through the parking lot.

Happy Festivus, everyone! Feel free to air your grievances!

Christmastime…is here….

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Nearly every year that we have been together, my husband and I have gone to Banff for a night around Christmas time. It’s a lovely tradition – Banff is so beautiful at Christmas with the lights, and the snow, and the mountains – and that is what we did this weekend. This was the first time since having kids that I was actually relaxed about leaving them, despite the fact that Jake was unusually clingy when we left (foreshadowing).

I called a couple of times when we arrived and my mother assured me everything was going well, but she mentioned Jake seemed quiet (more foreshadowing). Reassured by my phone calls, my husband and I proceeded to have a lovely night away. Walking by the river! Hot-tubbing! Dinner in a restaurant! Drinks and (very bad) live music at a pub! So much fun, and I was so happy, somewhat drunk, and full of that Christmassy-feeling.

When we got home the next day, the boys came to greet me at the door. Jake took one look at me and barfed.

I tried not to take it personally.

Last year, Christmas vacation was marked by all of us getting colds (mine lasting a spectacular FOUR WEEKS), Mark spending Christmas Day barfing, and Jake getting a high fever and ear infection that culminated in a perforated ear drum. This chain of illness was kicked off by…get this…Jake barfing while we were on our Banff trip! So I’m a little worried that history is going to repeat itself. Which is silly. What good can possibly come of fretting about getting sick? If we’re going to get sick, we’re going to get sick. No use in worrying.

But what if that is my destiny forever? What if one day we have a germ-free Christmas and I’m all “Christmas just doesn’t seem like Christmas without any vomit!” (Sorry, Louisa May Alcott).

Ah well. Jake seems better today – not normal, mind you, but better. So I guess I will hope for the best and not spend any energy worrying about it.

A Christmas Meme

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Yesterday was the last day of school before winter break and the kids were appropriately excited. We spent the afternoon baking and decorating piles of cookies – gingerbread men and various shaped sugar cookies. As you know, I am extremely Type A about many things but cookie decorating (or any kind of decorating) is not one of them. I give the kids their own dough, and a dozen or so of their own cookies, and their own frosting tubes, and then not worry about the final product. So, generally what happens is that Mark very carefully decorates, and eats, several cookies. Jake piles an inch or so of frosting on each of his cookies, and eats them immediately after. The end result was two sugar high children speeding around the house until they collapsed into sobbing, hysterical heaps a few hours later. Christmas joy!

Speaking of Christmas joy, I stole this meme from the Happy Geek, so here goes:

Eggnog or Hot Chocolate? Eggnog disgusts me on so many different levels, so I guess hot chocolate by default, although I don’t really drink that either. My holiday beverage of choice is coffee with Bailey’s, or for a non-alcoholic treat, a peppermint latte.

Does Santa wrap the presents or leave them open under the tree? Oh, Santa. You’ve burned up in the chimney of our minds. However, we do fill stockings which are, supposedly, from Santa.

Coloured Lights on a tree or white? Coloured.

Do you hang Mistletoe? No, I just kiss whoever I feel like whenever.

When do you put your decorations up? Normally I wait until the first weekend of December, but this year it was late November. They go down on Boxing Day or shortly after, since by then I am tired of bumping into things in my teeny living room.

What is your favorite Holiday Dish? Hm. My mom’s butterhorns? Does a sweet bun count as a dish? They’re pretty yummy.

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? The kids do.How do you decorate your Christmas tree? It’s a gigantic jumble of ornaments. I like the kids to decorate it however they like. It takes the pressure off.

Snow. Love it or Hate it? I like snow in the appropriate months. I wish I didn’t see snow April through September. But, I live in Calgary, so wishing ain’t getting.

Can you ice skate? I used to actually figure skate when I was a kid.

What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? .My mom’s chocolate Yule log. It’s chocolately and whipped-creamy, and eating more than one piece will leave you bloated and lethargic, like any good holiday dessert.

What is your favorite holiday tradition? In a strange way, making our crazed gingerbread house. Also watching the movie Elf. ALSO – and this is happening today – our annual overnight trip to Banff, sans kids. Only 1 1/2 hours until we leave!!! More to come on that front.

Candy Canes. Yum or Yuck? I don’t mind candy canes, but I don’t really eat them either.

Favorite Christmas Show? I have three: Elf – best movie ever, Christmas Vacation – makes my family look slightly less insane, and Charlie Brown Christmas.

This was a fun meme to do, so feel free to copy.