Category Archives: Hello Calgary

Can I Handle The Seasons Of My Life? Uh huh.

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Although there are now less than three weeks left in the school year, today we had a PD day. At first I thought it would be nice to have a lazy day at home, but I casually mentioned “renewing our zoo passes” and the kids lost their minds. The zoo! The zoo! THE ZOOOOOOOOOO! Even though they were just at the zoo last week, it seemed that it would be the answer to all their dreams to have a zoo day.

How could I say no? I hadn’t been to the zoo myself since before the flood last year, so I spent some frustrating minutes registering my car for the “easy online parking” and off we went, armed with sandwiches and snacks. And what a great day it was! Honestly, I feel like I could make an entire growth chart based solely on my declining levels of anxiety at the big play park, or my diminishing levels of exhaustion post-zoo-trip. It used to be that the play park, with the structures netted so that children don’t fall to their deaths, was immensely stress-inducing, what with each child going in different directions and inevitably getting stuck somewhere in said netted structure that was set up so that no one larger than age 12 could access it and hence, I would have to calmly talk the stranded children down, amid the shrieking and excited hordes of children. IT’S OKAY, HONEY, JUST PUT YOUR FOOT THERE…YES…YOU CAN DO IT…IT’S OKAY…hey, where’s Jake? Now I just sat on a bench that was our designated meeting place and stared pleasantly into space while the boys climbed and slid and checked in with me. Lately I’ve been a bit Landslide-y about the fleeting nature of time, but today I watched a several women wrangle a tantruming toddler with a running-away preschooler, and that, along with the exhausted looking stroller brigade, made me cheerfully click my heels as I walked with the kids and their backpacks which held supplies for the entire day.

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Hooray for kids that carry your water bottle for you.

Seriously, this is such a fun age. The kids were interested in reading the signs that went with the exhibits, that detailed habitats and diet and where the species lay on the “endangered” spectrum. Grizzlies are on the “to watch” list.

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Mark finds grizzlies terrifying.

 

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Penguins in all their formal wear.

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Moar penguins plz

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Red haired penguins.

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Remember Jake’s sadness with the passing of Foggy the hippo? Well, Foggy’s grandson, now at the zoo, is the bomb. We watched the sleeping hippo open his eyes, wiggle his ears, yawn, and, ultimately, honk and Jake was so sure that it was all for his benefit. If you tell Jake that hippos don’t actually telepathically communicate with him, then I will cease to be your friend. Because look at this happy face:

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Jake, the hippo whisperer.

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School and activities mean that we have so few of these days together, the three of us. We used to spend all our days together, and now it’s just enough to make such outings feel so special. I don’t know how many summers I have left, spending time with the boys in this capacity. I wish it could last forever, but it can’t.

A Mix of Agnes Skinner and Nick Nolte

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It’s been so beautiful, sunny, and warm here and is forecasted to be so for the entire long-term forecast – except for today. Today it’s cool and rainy and the boys are on a field trip to the zoo. Have fun, guys!

This brings to mind the last field trip to the zoo, when Mark was in grade one and he had just recovered from pneumonia, and it poured rain and the zoo was so busy with school field trips that the kids had to eat lunch on a picnic table outside, squatting on the benches so as to not soak the bottoms of their pants. Good times! Thankfully most of the activities will be indoors, but still.

Being soaked to the skin was not one of the risk factors listed in the “Consent and Acknowledgement of Risk” form that I signed, which seems like a terrible oversight. Instead, these are the risk factors that I need to be aware of:

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Horseplay! That’s one I haven’t seen before and believe me, I’ve seen some doozies. Circling back to that last field trip, three years ago, one of the cited risk factors was “Possible Animal Escape From Enclosures” which made me envision children being trampled by rampaging giraffes or being taken prisoner by the gorillas. You will note that “Animal Escape” is not listed this time but “Getting Lost or Separated From The Group” IS. There is no need to be separated from the group UNLESS there are escaped animals chasing you, children.

Wait, what does “Equipment Failure” mean? Does THAT mean possible animal escapes? I feel like I need more detail.

In the package of information for the zoo, there was a specific list of behavioural expectations that I was requested to discuss with my children, no horseplay being one of them. Also: do not run away from the group. I kept reminding them in a sarcastic, sing-song voice all week, Remember, guys, don’t run away from your group! but then I remembered when I volunteered at the museum field trip last year, and I had third-grade children continually running away from the group. Running away from the group is an actual real risk. I get complacent because I know my own children would never run away from their group leader, so I assume all children would be equally obedient, but this is not the case! As I recall, I solved that issue by informing my group that if they didn’t stay together, we would just stand in silence and not see any exhibits until it was time to leave, cementing my status as the “non-fun mom volunteer”. Starting the day hopeful and cheery, ending it sounding like Agnes Skinner and looking like Nick Nolte’s mug shot. This is the summation of nearly all my volunteer activities.

In any case, I hope all goes well and no one gets lost. I tip my hat to the volunteers today. I am – obviously – not one of them, for the humble reason that I have an appointment at the hair salon, and I book my appointments a minimum of three months in advance, so changing them is not always an option. I’m this close to actually looking like Agnes Skinner, so time to get a colour and catch up on my useless and also somehow mind-boggling reading of People magazine. I STILL don’t know why Kim Kardashian is famous.

Speaking of mind-boggling, last week I zipped out to Costco, with my list in my purse. It turns out that one of my children had been writing on my list for reasons of their own. I have no idea what this refers to or why it was on the back of my Costco list, but I’m looking forward to the receipt of my elf tail armor.

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Nicole’s Favourite Things: Here Comes The Sun Edition

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You aren’t going to believe this, but it has been sunny and warm this week – mid-twenties for temperature, with lots of sun and no wind. I know. I know. I don’t even know where I am anymore.

Wait, yes I do. I’ve already heard two complaints about the “heat” which makes me despair for humanity. People, low-to-mid-twenties is not “hot”, it is pleasant and beautiful and is eight months of winter not enough for you? Perhaps you should move to Inuvik or Tuktoyaktuk.

Anyway, I love this weather, and so I bring to you…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: Here Comes The Sun

Gardening

Is there anything more wonderful than that spring rush of planting and gardening? I think not. My Mother’s Day gift finally arrived:

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Come to mama, giant bag of dirt.

A friend said, with regards to my giant bag of dirt, that I would “make it bloom” and indeed, I will, and that is one of the nicest comments I’ve heard in my life. It could be a metaphor! Look what else is happening in my garden right now:

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Osteopermums! Such a happy little flower. I plant them in the sunniest, warmest spot right by the back door where I can look at them all the time.

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My lilacs are just starting to bud…they’re babies!

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This is as close as we get, here in Calgary, to cherry blossoms. Nanking cherry blossoms! So pretty. The bees are buzzing all around them.

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Jake brought home a bean plant and he is fully expecting a gigantic harvest.

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Pansies are such cheerful flowers in the spring. I love that they don’t die at signs of frost.

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The Mayday tree is just starting to bloom and it smells glorious. If heaven has a smell, it’s a mix of Mayday blossoms and chocolate chip cookies.

Sandals

One of my favourite things about this time of year is breaking free of the socks and boots and putting on sandals. Yesterday was the Volunteer Tea at the school and this was my outfit:

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SANDALS

 

The other day I was working in the garden, wearing a green shirt. I went to pick the boys up from school and they couldn’t find me in the crowd, even though I was standing exactly where I stand every day to pick them up, and have for the past five years. “But you are wearing GREEN, Mom!” You can see I rectified this. Poor children. They literally do not recognize their own mother when she deviates from black.

Side note: the tea was great, and my kids sang a song called “Try And Change The World” and I cried, because I’m not made of stone.

Southern Magnolia

This is a departure from normal Nicole’s Favourite Things, but the people at Southern Magnolia sent me some product to try out. I was charmed by their name – I’ve always thought I would make a great Southern belle. My own maple leaf patriotism notwithstanding, I think I should have been born in the South. I love the heat, flowers, and people calling me ma’am. I may never be Miss Nicole to the local children, but I did really enjoy the product that they sent.

 

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Go to www.smmcosmetics.com

They sent me Dry Patch Healing Balm, which was very welcome indeed. All this gardening is hard on the hands, plus a couple of weeks ago I had a head cold. When one is the main food provider in the house and one has a head cold, one washes one’s hands a lot. My hands actually started cracking and bleeding, and the dry skin started catching and snagging my clothes.

 

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Before….

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After!

It worked really well and that’s saying something, given that Calgary is practically a desert. A cold desert.

They also sent their “One Perfect Lip Gloss” which purports to have “One Colour Fits All”. I was insanely excited to try it and also skeptical; you know how I am with claims of “one size fits all”. I was pleasantly surprised; it’s a great colour that looks very natural. Sometimes I embrace the natural look!

 

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 Southern Magnolia – check them out, it’s a nice company with cruelty-free, organic, natural products, which is very cool.

On that note, I must get outside and play in my garden while the sun shines. And since it’s Friday, I’m going to celebrate with some Skinnygirl Cosmopolitans because, yet again, I forgot to buy cranberry juice and Cointreau – but a day like today calls for a fruity girly drink! Have a beautiful weekend, lovelies!

 

Looking down on creation

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Lately Mark has been quite preoccupied with the idea of growing up, and the logistics about how things work in the world. He wants to know how, exactly, does one buy a car, for example. How does one choose an apartment and how does one pay for an apartment? Do apartments come with furniture or does one need to bring their own furniture to an apartment, and if the latter, how is the furniture transported to said apartment? Can one choose paint colours in an apartment and are dogs allowed? How does one get an engineering job? How does one know what classes to take in order to become an engineer? And so on.

It’s really fun, these conversations. We have been talking a lot about university life, as well, and I’ve been trying to impress upon them how much fun it is and how there are hundreds of interesting courses to choose from. My memories of university are nearly all rosy; I loved being a student so much. I loved choosing courses, and attending lectures; I loved writing papers and exams and I loved the general feeling of university life. I loved how intense the days of exams were and I loved the relaxed feeling and having beer and nachos in the bar after the exams were completed. I loved taking step aerobics classes in the university gym and I loved the days that were warm enough to sit on the grassy hills, studying. I loved the packing-it-all-in feeling of spring and summer courses and I loved the quiet starriness of the early morning campus in the dead of winter.

I remember how I felt when I graduated. I felt like I was on top of the world, I felt like I could do anything and be anything and I could change the world. I want my children to experience that same feeling. Some people take issue with new graduates and their cheerful optimism, but I think there’s enough time in our lives to become grizzled old cynics.

In part, that’s why I’m finding the recent stabbing deaths of five University of Calgary students so hard to deal with. Never mind that I got two degrees from the University of Calgary, never mind that the stabbings took place only a few blocks from my house, in my much-loved neighbourhood. I cannot stop thinking of the families – not only of the victims, who had their whole lives ahead of them – but of the accused. I can’t stop thinking about how they probably felt, celebrating the end of classes, like they were on top of the world, like they could do anything and be anything.

Get Off My Lawn

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Ever since I complained about my too-tight-post-vacation pants, my Facebook feed has been full of advertisements regarding the most efficient way to get rid of belly fat, the one simple exercise to rid myself of belly fat, the one surprising food to avoid to eliminate belly fat, and ways to become bikini ready in just ten days. Well, thanks, Facebook, but I think I’m good now. My pants fit again so you can go back to advertising whatever it was you advertised before (Yoga studios? Clothing stores? Makeup? I don’t really know.).

How was your weekend? Mine started off by the delivery of a new freezer and fridge for the basement; their chilliness warms my food-hoarding little heart. I am beyond excited to be able to buy tons of produce and not have to play Tetris to get it all to fit in my fridge, and now I have an actual honest-to-God freezer to freeze things instead of jamming things into the beer-fridge-sized freezer and the compartment on my fridge, breaking my nails, and crying. The receipt of these items meant that my husband and I had a lot of reorganizing/ purging/ moving things/ swearing to do in order to make everything fit. It turns out that we have differing opinions on what sort of things are appropriate to keep – old golf how-to manuals versus a box of old fridge magnets – and that if a dumpster were in the neighbourhood, I should not leave the house lest my husband gets hold of my boxes of old Christmas cards and the kids’ old art projects. Not that I’m really a hoarder – I happily packed up many boxes and bags of things to be donated/ recycled/ garbaged – but it turns out my husband is much more brutal in his spring cleaning efforts than I am. I AM NOT GETTING RID OF THE FRIDGE MAGNETS AND ART PROJECTS.

Anyway, after the excitement of the new appliances, then there was the excitement of Mad Men! I sternly told the boys to shower and read their books in silence, because I had been waiting for ten months to watch this show and sssshhhhhhh. I will say this: it did not disappoint. I was struck, watching the scenes on the plane, by how much air travel has changed in the past 40-50 years. It used to seem so glamourous; now it’s all about watching your seatmate grossly eat Cheezies and drunkenly pass out beside you.

So that brings us to Monday morning. Apparently it is Bermuda Shorts Day today, which, if you did not go to the University of Calgary and are therefore in the dark why a) anyone would wear Bermuda shorts and b) why that would occur in April in Calgary, here is a little background information for you. Basically, it boils down to the last day of classes being celebrated by much drunken debauchery. The reason I know that it is Bermuda Shorts Day today is that I live in walking distance to the university, and while I was peacefully folding clothes I looked out the window and saw hordes of students in various ridiculous shorts-based outfits, walking down the street, beers and red Solo cups in hand. I smiled to myself, thinking of my youth and many fun Bermuda Shorts Days of my own…when I saw a girl chug a beer and throw the can on my lawn. I ran – not walked – to the front door and by the time I got there I noticed people putting their empty cans underneath the tires of the cars parked on my street. Whipping the door open, I screamed “HEY! DON’T THROW BEER CANS ON MY LAWN!!!” while the students looked on, startled. One young man in cutoff denim shorts with the pockets hanging down started collecting the cans while the rest stared at the crazy red-haired hausfrau reaming them out. At least I wasn’t wearing an apron and/or hair curlers. “Have a good time, but have some fucking respect for my neighbourhood. I don’t want to see this shit ANYMORE!” and mid-sentence a cop car patrolling the neighbourhood for drunken debauchery pulled up. Good timing, sir! I left him to it while watching out the window with a furrowed brow at the state of the young people today. GET OFF MY LAWN AND TURN OFF THAT INFERNAL RACKET.

Happy Monday to everyone! On that note, it’s a good day to get to know each other better – did you know littering makes me lose my mind? – and so I bring you Meme Monday. If you want to play, either blog these questions or answer in the comments. Getting to know you…getting to know all aboooouuut you…

Is it spring where you are?

Well, yes, in that it’s “spring in Calgary” spring, and not “things are actually growing and blossoming” spring. Things are brown, mostly, but there are some tiny buds on the trees and the glacier in my back yard is starting to retreat so, yes. Also, two magpies got into a fight with a squirrel yesterday in the trees in our front yard; I’m not sure why. Maybe the magpies had a nest nearby, or maybe they were just being assholes. Either way I was rooting for the squirrel.

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Kind of depressing glimpse at my back yard. At least it’s melting!

 

What was the last book you read, and would you recommend it?

I read so many books on vacation that I was considering a “Monday on the Margins” type post in the style of my erudite friend Allison, but actually the last book I read was Bossypants. And yes! I’d recommend it. That was about the sixth time I’ve read it – it is a hilarious and entertaining read, and since I read The Bear on vacation and I cannot read anything remotely heavy for a while.

Reality TV – yes or no?

I feel like I’m the star of my own show – Real Housewives Near The U of C With Food Hoarding Issues. But no. I think reality TV is a wretched chapter in the history of television, and I will not watch any of it.

Who is your favourite cartoon character of all time?

Well, that’s easy. Ralph Wiggum.

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Do you have a song stuck in your head right now? If so, what?

I always have a song stuck in my head and it can vary from “Summer Breeze” to “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go” to “Linda Put The Coffee On” to “Empire State of Mind” – you should hear me hit the high notes. Today I have “Monster” by Eminem and Rihanna stuck in my head, over and over, I wanna be the Bruce Lee of looseleaf. But that is a post in itself.

Go ahead, play along! And Happy Monday/ Bermuda Shorts Day to all. xoxo

Don’t mess with the bull, young man. You’ll get the horns.

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I heard on the radio this morning that there has been some kind of significant study showing that yelling at your kids is just as bad – if not WORSE – than spanking them. Well, then. This is one of those hot button, easily misinterpreted studies, in my mind. Of course no one wants to belittle their children or destroy their self-esteem. Of course no one should yell demeaning or insulting things at their children, but I think there’s a difference between, say, Shut the fuck up you stupid kid! and Don’t touch the stove! but according to the woman being interviewed, there IS NO DIFFERENCE. Instead of losing your shit because your child almost grabbed a pot of boiling water off the stove, you should tell them calmly not to do that and remove them from the kitchen. WELL THEN.

I guess I just may as well have taken my blacksnake whip – remember Farmer Boy? Badass Mr. Wilder and his blacksnake whip. – to all the children at the playground today because I yelled at a whole group of them. Perhaps yelling is too strong a word. I spoke VERY SHARPLY to them, including my own children and their friends, because there was an icy snowball-throwing incident and Jake took one to the face. I VERY SHARPLY informed the children that they were not to throw snowballs, especially not in this weather with the “snowballs” being chunks of gritty ice-like snow. “If this behaviour continues,” I said in a loud, sharp voice, “I will go and tell the principal. I DO NOT THINK YOU WANT ME TO TELL THE PRINCIPAL, DO YOU?” Then I pointed my gigantic mitten clad hand at the group of them, who looked at me wide eyed and silent, and turned and walked away.

As I was walking away, I heard one of them say “That was the book fair lady.” Don’t cross the book fair lady, children.

Ah, but if this study is correct I may as well have beaten them all with sticks, or a blacksnake whip. No matter! The snowball throwing ceased immediately, and so I CARE NOT. The end more than justified the means, in my opinion.

The weather finally has broken, so my constant humming of Hold on for one more day has really paid off. Today I did not feel like I was going to die while walking the dog; I put on my pretty winter boots instead of my Joan-of-Arctic Sorels. I am full of light and optimism. This is a good thing because yesterday I feared for my sanity. I dropped the boys off at their karate practice and went to Superstore. At 5:00 on a Thursday. Since when did my personal judgement get so flawed? This was a terrible idea. All I needed, really, was a couple of eggplants and a tube of bubblegum-flavoured toothpaste. The self-checkout was filled with imbeciles with giant carts full of, apparently, only produce and bakery items. My blood pressure is rising just thinking about it. Please wait for an attendant. Please wait for an attendant. I almost shoved people out of the way to do it myself. “NO! NO! DON’T PUT IT ON THE SCALE UNTIL IT ASKS YOU TO!”

It’s probably a good thing I didn’t. Yelling at someone for their incompetence with the self-checkout would surely be damaging to their self-esteem. In any case, it’s Friday, and I’m ready to crack open a bottle of wine and watch a few episodes of Downton Abbey. Happy weekend, everyone! xo

 

You’re also never fully dressed without eight pounds of clothing.

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On Monday it warmed up all the way to minus 17, so I carpe diemed the hell out of that and took the dog for a walk. Poor fluffster, it’s been a while since he’s had a proper walk, and it probably will be a while before he gets a proper walk, because two minutes into it I started considering what kind of fashion statement wearing a balaclava would make. On the plus side, I wouldn’t feel like I would die by face-freezing; on the minus side, it would totally ruin my makeup. I eventually abandoned the idea; vanity, as usual, winning out over practicality.

The winter has been so long and so cold that I have entirely lost perspective about the weather. A few people have mentioned that it’s “March” and so it should be “springlike already” which filled me with bemusement. Isn’t March still winter? Isn’t it always this cold? I truly cannot remember what “other seasons” are like. It has come to the point that I apparently think, with all honesty, that it is always this cold and it will never get warm, forever and ever, amen. I met up with an elderly German man at the off-leash park, who told me that he has been in this city for fifty-eight years and he can only remember three other winters that were like this. Well, I guess that proves me wrong. I shall not cross the friendly elderly German man. I expect he knows what he’s about.

Someone just reminded me that Daylight Savings Time starts this weekend. I need offer no further comment.

Ah, but resistance is futile, isn’t it? We cannot change the weather and – unfortunately for all involved – we cannot change the mandate for Daylight Savings Time. No – really, we can’t. Lord knows I’ve tried, if complaining and rabble rousing on this blog counts as “trying”. ENOUGH OF THE BELLYACHING, as my long-suffering mother would say, possibly in response to some kind of teenage angst or similar, as I moped around the house in my Depeche Mode concert t-shirt.

There are some people who claim that winter is their very favourite season, and while I applaud anyone hardy enough to fully enjoy the season’s frigid splendors, I really have a hard time understanding. I want to understand, but I cannot. I understand fall lovers: the leaves and crisp air, the promise of Christmas around the corner. I understand spring lovers: the sprigs of green, the buds on the trees, the mild air and freshness. Of course I understand summer lovers, being one myself: the ease of getting dressed in the morning, the warmth and unscheduled days. However, I shall try to understand the winter people by remembering all the lovely things I enjoy about our 6-8-month-long winters. I toyed with the idea of making a Nicole’s Favourite Things post, but then I remembered that these things are not exactly my favourite. The Nicole’s Favourite Things posts cannot contain lies!

Nicole’s Not-Favourite-But-They’re-Okay Things, Frigid Winter Edition

1) Since it’s too cold for the kids to play outside, I haven’t been standing in the playground, shivering, for an hour after school.

2) Since it’s too cold to do much of anything, I am super productive in the housewifely arts. I am kicking ass and taking names, if by “kicking ass and taking names” you mean “accomplishing a lot of domestic tasks in record time”. Yesterday I had baked a banana bread and washed the floors before 8:00 am.

3) Inspired by Allison I tackled the boys’ sock/underwear/pajama drawers today. They haven’t closed properly in months. Mark’s drawer was more in need of reorganization than actual purging, but Jake’s was full of treasures: four newborn infant hats, a bib, socks that had a Transformers motif, circa 2010, two pairs of size five pajamas, and three pairs of Hot Wheels underwear, possibly from his kindergarten year. Tomorrow we tackle the t-shirt drawers!

4) Baking in this weather makes the house feel warm and cozy; it also smells terrific and as an added bonus, I can leave the oven door slightly ajar after the baked goods are done and warm my frozen purple hands over it, making me feel like Laura Ingalls coming in from twisting hay, but without the starvation and chamber pots. My hands are chapped just like hers, and I bought a pretty new fig-and-shea-butter cream for them. You all know how I love a new beauty product.

5) Aubergine is THE hot new colour this year, and although I don’t see myself wearing it, my hands are naturally on-trend!

6) I love the look of long sweaters, tall boots, and skinny jeans. Not only is it a saucy look, but long sweaters also nicely conceal the muffin top resultant from indulging in so much baking.

7) There’s no need to worry about sunscreen!

8) I do like a good bowl of soup, which I don’t bother with in the summer. Unless of course it’s a typical Calgary summer with chill temperatures. Soup: the all-season gustatory pleasure of my hometown.

9) Walking while wearing my heavy winter boots is akin to walking with 1980s-style ankle weights. It’s like I’m having a retro workout every day!

10) When the sun is out it’s actually really pretty. Not as pretty as, say, green grass and flowers, but pretty.

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Barkley doesn’t mind the cold. He’s furry!

In the spirit of keeping one’s expectations low so one will not be disappointed, I’ve been avoiding the weather forecast. However, I keep hearing that warmer weather is coming “soon” and I’m holding on to that “soon” like it’s the key to the universe’s secrets. SOON. Soon it will get warmer. I don’t know what “soon” means but maybe if I channel my inner Wilson Phillips and my inner invincible summer, I can hold on for one more day. Don’t you know, don’t you know things can change, things can go my way if I HOOOOLLLLD on for ONE MORE DAY.