Category Archives: Housewifery

A Confession

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Aretha Franklin is, without a doubt, my favourite singer of all time; what a gift she was to the world. I love every single thing she has ever done, but I especially love this clip from 2015 because wow. Talk about owning it. I love how she swans out in a gigantic floor length fur coat, 2015 be damned, dripping with jewelry and in that absolutely fabulous dress, to belt out Natural Woman. That voice, not dimmed in the least by her age, which was 73. In fact, her voice may have been better than ever. I love how she just drops the coat to just finish it off. What a goddess.

Sirius is honouring her by making the Soul Town channel into a tribute to Aretha for the next week. This morning I heard her renditions of Satisfaction and Let It Be, and she makes the Stones and Beatles sound like absolute hacks. Go home, boys, you’ve been owned. That woman was a queen, let’s not ever forget that.

Speaking of Sirius, a few weeks ago I mentioned that after years of my declarations that I Do Not Need Sirius In My Car, I finally acquiesced and my husband had it installed, just in time for our Epic Road Trip. I am so glad we did because I don’t think I could have listened to our Summer Mix 2014! CD one more time. The only blip came when my husband, whose musical tastes are much more contemporary than my own, refused to listen to Seventies Soft Rock or Pop Hits of the Eighties, two of my staple channels. I am extremely open-minded about music in general – I enjoy a wide and eclectic variety of genres – and so I let the doggy have his bone, so to speak. This went fine until the last long leg, when I snapped and declared that I Could Not Listen To “The Middle” One More Time. Deadlock had been reached, and we ended up compromising by listening to Bloomberg for four straight hours, which was both fascinating and kind of depressing, as this was exactly when the Chinese trade sanctions were starting.

The other day I was scrolling through my news feed and I came across this:

Never before have I felt so seen by an Onion headline, not since this one:

Oh, remember those days when the kids were small and a vacation was not at all a vacation, but rather a trip, and one in which all regular chores and drudgery had to be done, just in less convenient circumstances? Thank god that passed. When the kids were little our “vacations” were exclusively limited to “trips to visit my in-laws” and I remember the sheer exhaustion of it all. In fact, when the kids were two and three I remember saying to a fellow preschool mom that I couldn’t imagine ever PAYING to go on a vacation just so I could be exhausted in a different place. Clearly my sleep deprivation was affecting me deeply; obviously I am in a different stage of life now, one in which I can sit by the pool with a drink and a book for hours before wondering casually if the kids were hungry yet. It gets better Current Me wants to tell Past Me. Whenever I see a woman on a plane with little ones in tow, and the look on her face says why am I doing this I always give an empathetic smile and a silent prayer for her that she will get five minutes to herself.

But back to the Guest Offering Help With Dishes. This is a confession, you guys, which means I am not proud of this, but instead I am telling you something a little bit shameful, and that is that I really cannot bear to have help in the kitchen. Well, that’s not exactly true; my younger son is my dish drier, my older son is the table-and-chair wiper, my husband scrapes plates and loads the dishwasher and packages up leftovers (but only in containers that I have approved, because I am an insane control freak). Guests, though. I want my guests to just enjoy another drink and relax, or chat with me while I do the dishes, but I do not under any circumstances want help.

I know, I know, it’s terrible. In fact, I wonder if it’s some kind of pathological illness. Why wouldn’t I welcome help? It’s perverse! After all, I happily help in other people’s kitchens. But when it comes to mine…well. A few months ago we had dear friends visiting, and after dinner my sweet, sweet friend Sammi (HI SAMMI) started stacking plates. She took one look at me and said “You don’t want me to do this, do you?” I shook my head and we burst out laughing at my weird mental deficiency. Then she had a glass of wine while I washed the dishes AND I WAS HAPPY.

When we were staying at our friends’ place in Vancouver (HI CHRIS!) I was helping in the kitchen by drying the dishes. I asked my friend where to put a particular knife, and he said “Oh, anywhere. It’s a small kitchen, I’ll find it.” People, I stood there for several seconds in shock because I had obviously found Bizarro Nicole. What, you don’t have a specific nonnegotiable spot for every single kitchen item and when said item is put away wrong, you don’t silently plot the murder of the individual responsible? Huh. 

Well, the world is a rich tapestry. It takes all kinds, as Grandma would say. My husband and I were chatting the other day and I said that I was “easy-going.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “I am! I’m very easy-going!” I said defensively. He wordlessly went to the knife block and switched the knives around while my blood pressure skyrocketed and my eyes bulged out.

I’m easy-going about many things but the knife block is not one of them. Or the entire kitchen. Or the entire house. But otherwise! Very placid and carefree. Yes. Very.

The Boyhouse Takes An Epic Road Trip

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The clock in the kitchen has been two minutes slow for weeks now, and although there are two other clocks – on the stove and microwave – I always find myself glancing at that one. Yesterday I decided to seize the day and after changing the time, I hung it back on the wall. I did not, however, hang it properly, as evidenced by the smash and shatter that came a minute later. I knew that I would be constantly glancing at the bare spot in the wall, trying to ascertain the time of day, and so after dropping the kids at their swim lessons, I found myself at Bed Bath and Beyond.

What is it about that store? I have been very conscious about what kinds of things I purchase, and the quantities thereof – I don’t want to add to the landfill any more than I have to, and also I don’t want a whole lot of clutter in my house. However, walking into Bed Bath and Beyond, I find myself completely and immediately overwhelmed. Do I need a spiralizer? Do I need a floating cooler? How about Jelly Belly flavoured syrup? What about these throw pillows? What about a shower caddy that has a separate waterproof pocket for my phone? Does Barkley need a cooling bandanna? In the end I walked out with only a clock, thanks only to iron willpower. I was sorely tested though, even when I made it through the store. Near the checkout I was very tempted by a deal on streak-free stainless steel and granite cleaner, scented hand soap, and special pens for writing on glass.

Iron willpower, and maybe I am also a little shopped out since I crossed a new line this week: I bought so much at Costco that I could – and this is not an exaggeration – barely move the cart. I normally am at Costco every 2-3 weeks, but due to vacation it had been almost five, and I was into my backups of almost all my staples. The cart was so heavy that it was taking every ounce of strength I had to move it, and I briefly wondered if the slight incline in the parking lot would be the actual death of me. I pushed with all my might, inching through the lot, while cars zoomed past me, probably raging about the renovations at the gas station. The next day my back and shoulders were a bit sore and I wondered if that counted as the World’s Lamest Injury.

Speaking of vacation, I meant to write about it before now, but clearly I have been too busy breaking clocks and buying groceries to do so. It was, the kids said, our Best Canadian Trip Ever. Emphasis is on Canadian, I guess, because hey, Disney World. But we did have a wonderful trip, starting with a drive up the Icefields Parkway to Jasper.

Hoo boy, that was a cold hike! My husband and I went to the Athabasca Glacier on our very first trip together, way back in 1998, so it was very fun to see it with our kids, twenty years later.

We did lots of great hiking, and also went white water rafting for the first time. In the evenings we played board games and cards, and it was, all in all, fabulous.

Circling back to my shopping challenge, I purchased these boots in 1998. They have seen a lot of kilometers in the past twenty years. I was going to boast about them, how they are still going strong, but sadly the soles are coming off! I don’t even know if I can get them repaired, sad trombone. Anyway, twenty years is pretty decent for a pair of hiking boots, and they saw me through all the hikes we did in Jasper.

After Jasper we headed for the coast. I hadn’t been to Vancouver since I was pregnant with my oldest, which was fifteen years ago. I was Quietly Pregnant, and we stayed with the same friends we stayed with on this trip. We had a lovely time with our very generous hosts (HI CHRIS) and spent time at Kitsilano Beach, Granville Island, and the Seawall.

The original Lululemon! I did not even go inside because I was still on my shopping challenge, and a person can only take so much temptation.

After Vancouver we went to visit my mother-in-law, and a number of friends, in Kelowna. The four hour drive ended up taking seven and a half hours, due to – dramatically – a truck and trailer on fire a few kilometers in front of us. Other than that little blip, we had a great time enjoying the heat and the water.

Just as we were getting back into routine last week, I decided to take advantage of the hot weather and took the kids up to my parents’ place mid-week for a mini-vacation. We paddleboarded and boated, and the kids were getting a little hot so I encouraged them to jump out of the boat and swim to shore. It turned out to be a lot farther than I initially thought but hey, they did it!

So now we are home and back in the swing of things, with slightly tighter pants – sigh – and lots of great memories. A friend of my husband’s is very sick and it’s on my mind a lot, how time can be fleeting and at the end of the day, this is what matters most. I don’t ever wish to go back in time but I do wish I could slow it down just a little – the boys are back to school in less than three weeks, it’s mid-August! – but failing that, I guess we just need to enjoy the time we have together. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: July Is The Best Edition

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It has been another glorious summer week; summers are so short in this city that I feel like I need to soak up every moment outside. Hence, the writing of this at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning. I realized that I started this blog in 2008 which is a decade of having a whole lot to say about not a whole lot. My friend Lynn (HI LYNN) thought that maybe us “old-school mom bloggers” should now morph into “perimenopause bloggers” which, maybe we should. Speaking of EMOTIONS, the other morning I was practicing yoga and a girl rolled out her mat beside me. She had a shirt that said “When It’s Dark Look For Stars” and I got teary-eyed. Getting emotional over a tank top is probably one of those Change of Life things that no one talks about, UNTIL NOW.

And speaking of tank tops, only ten more days until my goddamn shopping challenge is done. Then I shall buy all the emotional tank tops I want. August 1st, lululemon sees a spike in sales like never before, analysts cannot explain it. It all seemed to come out of the Calgary area.

Truthfully though, I was in the mall yesterday to choose a hostess gift, and the tea store is just down from lululemon, and I am not made of stone. I thought I would browse the store and just make a mental shopping list for The Big Day. Reader, there was nothing I wanted to buy. Either the shopping challenge has fundamentally changed me or all the current styles and colours are unappealing, or both. I was gravely disappointed. I felt like Rip van Winkle but with clothes, like the whole world has moved on to crop tops and tucking things in and I just am not prepared for that right now.

Also, why so many things with an exposed back? As I said summer is brief here, and I will enjoy this six weeks of feeling warm but come August, I will be layering up again. I do not want my back exposed; in a similar vein, I also never embraced the cold shoulder look. I am already cold enough, thank you.

This post has taken a turn for the negative; let’s get back to the point which was…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: July Is The Best Edition

Sirius XM Radio

There is a pattern in my marriage, and it goes like this: my husband has an idea of something he wants to buy for me/ our family/ our house, and I resist it with all my might. We do not NEED that, I will say. This conversation, such as it is, will go on for any length of time; weeks to years of back-and-forth. Finally my husband will break down and buy it/ install it and I will end up loving it so much so that I cannot imagine life without it. Repeat, ad infinitum. The single time that I myself had to convince my husband that we needed to buy something was when we purchased the trampoline.

I am a dream to be married to, believe me.

A small list of the items that have been purchased in this way are: Roomba, my stand mixer, my super-fancy dehydrator, the juicer, the Vitamix, my Yamaha piano, the elliptical machine, and Sonos. We have had Sonos, with Sirius XM Radio in the house for years, and my husband also has it in his car for his commute to work. I have steadfastly refused the installation of Sirius in my minivan, although mine is the vehicle that we take on long road trips, meaning that once we lose local radio stations, we end up listening to the same mix CD’s over and over. Some of those mix CD’s were made years ago and there is only so much of Gangnam Style one can listen to on one road trip. Finally my husband put Sirius in my car and people, I cannot ever go back to regular radio. I can listen to 70s soft rock without hearing commercials for Grey Power Insurance or Nurse Next Door or even My Pillow Dot Com. I already bought the damn pillow.

There’s also a Yacht Rock station, and the 80s on 8 frequently plays “on this day in 198x” countdowns. When I was driving to pick up the kids from my parents’ place, I was delayed by a big accident, and listening to the top songs of July 1986 made everything better. I had my own little karaoke party with The Greatest Love of All.

Breville Food Processor

I don’t know how long I’ve had my old Cuisinart food processor – since 2011 maybe? Or 2010? I don’t know. All I know is one day I was going to pulse some tomatoes into my guacamole and instead of pulsing the processor just kept going. It wouldn’t turn off until I unplugged it. I still used it like that for a while, plugging it in when I needed to process something, but it felt weird and dangerous. I thought I would just get another Cuisinart but my husband – who used to get Consumer Reports back in the day – had been researching it and thought I might like to try a Breville.

Oh, baby.

It was like all those years I was driving a Ford Focus, and now I have a Maserati.

It processes much better – the Cuisinart always left little chunks where the blade didn’t touch the bottom – and it is also so easy to clean! The Cuisinart had a rubber seal and lots of little crevices that were impossible to keep clean, which felt a little gross. This is my new bae. I’d make out with it if it wouldn’t slice my face to a pulp.

These Old Jeans

Thanks to Facebook memories, this photo popped up in my feed the other day.

It was from exactly ten years ago, and you might be thinking awww, what cute little guys. I am thinking that too, but I’m also thinking, hey, I’m wearing those jeans right now. Yes, these old jeans are at least a decade old – I don’t know when I bought them – and I’m still wearing them. Now that I’m looking at that photo, I realize that I still have and wear those shoes.

My god, August 1 cannot come soon enough. Although, it is a testament to how I buy things that last. No one could say that I’m a “disposable fashion” kind of girl, that’s for sure.

Dog Calendar

My mom gave me a Labradoodle calendar for Christmas, and every month features an absolutely adorable dog. Not as adorable as this one, mind you:

Look at that FACE. WHO’S A GOOD DOGGY. WHO’S THE BEST DOGGY.

But the month of July features this dog:

It puts me in mind of a 1980s glamour shot. It makes me smile every time I see it, which is good because…

Neutrogena Rapid Repair

This photo of me was taken exactly forty years ago:

I love it so much, not just because of my great fashion, but because I so clearly am thinking I will pet this sheep but I will not enjoy it and you cannot make me. My friend Janet (HI JANET) mentioned that I still make this face, which explains a lot regarding my perpetual Bitchy Resting Face. No wonder I have such an epic case of BRF, I have been working on it my whole life.

Several months ago I posted about my favourite Growing Old Gracefully things, and one of those things was Neutrogena Rapid Repair Night Cream. My friend Liv (HI LIV) mentioned that she uses the one that is SPF 30 and meant for day use. Liv has perfect skin so I thought I would try it as well, and people, my skin has never looked better. It is truly amazing. I still, of course, have BRF – no amount of retinol is going to reverse 43 years worth of that face. Nothing, short of massive plastic surgery, is going to do that. But it’s a fantastic cream and I highly recommend it. I also recommend looking at glamour dog shots frequently to keep smiling, keep shining.

That’s also my favourite sunscreen, for the six weeks of high UV index that we get per summer.

So that’s that. What are you loving this July, tell me everything. xo

Unmoored

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The boys have been visiting my parents this week, and I don’t mind telling you that I have spent this week feeling greatly unmoored, particularly yesterday. I had no classes to teach yesterday and it was a moon day, which meant no early morning yoga either. I spent a few hours just wandering around the house, drinking coffee and looking at social media, until I decided that I should probably go to spin class, if for no other reason then to get out of the house at a specific time.

From all accounts, the boys have been having an Epic Week, which is to be expected when visiting indulgent grandparents who live on a lake with access to every kind of fun thing you can imagine. During last night’s phone call, they informed my husband that yesterday they a) went mini-golfing, b) went to the Aquasplash, c) had ice cream at the local parlor, and d) went for dinner at a restaurant specializing in chicken wings. If there could be anything better for young teen boys, I do not know what it could be.

After class today I am heading up there myself, and am crossing my fingers that the extreme thunderstorms will hold off for a few hours after I get there, so I can also have some fun in the sun. It’s been beautiful and hot here, the garden is in full bloom with riotous colours, life is good.

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I recently read one of the best books I have EVER read, and that is really saying something. It’s called The Women In The Castle, and a student had recommended it to me a month or so ago. The description seemed pretty meh, to be honest, and I had just finished a bunch of very depressing reads. For those interested in depressing reads: Nearly Normal, which deals with the most dysfunctional childhood you can imagine, living off the grid for years with her clinically insane grandfather, then squatting in abandoned places with her mother while her mother has sex with near-strangers right beside her, and as much drug use as you might expect for such a story, in the 1970s. After that was Educated, another crazy dysfunctional childhood with an absolutely nutjob set of parents. Both of these books are testaments to human resiliency but honest to god, they are also so sad. Finally, I read Diana: Her Story and I have much to say about that, but will save it for later. Shortly thereafter, I got around to reading Lilac Girls, which my mother had lent me and which deals with Nazi experimentation on Polish women in a concentration camp, which pretty much finished me off, mentally. I considered reading the Sweet Valley High box set I had found as a countermeasure, but I had a few library books come in.

So I had mentioned in a class that I had read these depressing books and needed a pick-me-up, and a student came up to me after class and recommended The Women In The Castle. I dutifully put it on my library hold list, but it a) deals with Nazi Germany, and b) I wasn’t sure that it sounded like an uplifting, life-affirming book. When it came into the library I reluctantly started it, and then found I couldn’t put it down. What a wonderful, incredible, thought-provoking book. Believe me when I say you will not regret reading this, even if you are not a fan of historical fiction.

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Speaking of historical fiction, I was thinking about the movie Forrest Gump yesterday. It’s been 24 years since that movie came out; I loved it then and I still love it now. The other day I came across this question: what’s your favourite little moment in a big movie? We all know I’ll have what she’s having, but what about Don’t fuck with Mr. Zero and Someone is staring at you in Personal Growth? Those are perfect moments in a perfect movie. Actually, When Harry Met Sally is full of perfect moments. However, if I have to choose one small scene in a big movie, I would have to go with this one in Forrest Gump: when Forrest finds himself listening to a Black Panther talk about the war in Vietnam, and he is watching Jenny’s boyfriend yelling at Jenny from across the room. The douchebag smacks her and Forrest goes mental, all the while Hey Joe is playing to a crescendo. That, in my opinion, is a scene of perfection.

There’s another small moment prior to that, when Jenny introduces her gross boyfriend to Forrest, who is all dressed up and decorated in his uniform. The boyfriend says “Who’s the baby-killer?” and it occurred to me yesterday, that guy would fit in perfectly on twitter.

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Just now, I looked at twitter. There was a recipe, and I am not joking here, for Red Velvet Corn Dogs. I thought for certain that it must be a mistake, or maybe one of those cutesy recipes in which a cupcake is shaped like a corn dog but no. No. The recipe calls for, among other things, red velvet cake mix and a 10-count package of hot dogs, so the apocalypse is officially on us. Also, 2 quarts of canola oil, for frying. “Enjoy with your favourite dipping sauce!” is the note that the recipe cheerfully ends on. Enjoy. With your favourite dipping sauce.

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A few weeks ago, I was in the baking section of my beloved local Co-Op when I saw this:

Whoops! I know that, come fall, everything will be pumpkin spice this and pumpkin spice that, but this is a bridge too far, in my mind. Perhaps the Red Velvet Corn Dog people might find this useful and inspiring. Mark my words, we shall soon see Pumpkin Spice Refried Bean Pie, if this is any indication.

The world is a magical sphere.

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Yesterday was Pi Day and I spent much of it thinking of the magic of mathematics and, by extension, the world. Just think about this – for every single circle in the world, every single one of them, if you divide the circumference by the diameter, you get pi. YOU GET PI EVERY TIME. Isn’t that just incredible? Life is beautiful, made up of so many magical moments, and we should never let a day go by without appreciating them. In eager anticipation of pi day, I made a strawberry daiquiri pie for Sunday dessert; this recipe, but I omitted the avocado and cut the coconut milk to one cup, and then I poured my homemade magic shell on top and let me tell you, it was a glorious celebration of the circle.

Speaking of glorious things and mathematical magic, my husband sent me what must be one of the sexiest texts a girl can get: he informed me that he will soon be able to collect PC Points at Esso. You know that feeling when someone just GETS you? That’s the feeling I had when I read that. For, dear reader, I have become completely obsessed with collecting PC Points and redeeming PC Points and making up my grocery list with PC Points in mind. One day I swept into the yoga studio and excitedly told the girl at the desk my main accomplishment that morning: getting 10,600 points IN ONE SHOP BUYING ONLY THINGS I NEEDED AND NOTHING FRIVOLOUS. She was duly impressed. It’s gotten to the point where I eagerly anticipate Thursday mornings, when I can load my new offers onto my app. More importantly, I have figured out the basic algorithm and can make my list with that in mind. For example, I can predict with 90% accuracy when a certain offer is going to pop up, and I shop accordingly.

Is anyone still reading this?

In case there is any confusion, I am not being paid by Loblaw’s or anything, this isn’t in any way sponsored, it’s just that whenever I’m not teaching yoga I’m grocery shopping or cooking. This is literally true. Having young teen boys who eat pretty much constantly, and being a person who likes to make everything from scratch, my life is entirely revolving around my yoga classes and going to the grocery store, which may explain why my main source of unhappiness in the world is due to grocery carts gone awry.

Slight digression: my younger son pointed out that we had quite a few blueberry-pomegranate juices in the pantry, commenting that they “must have been on sale!” For years I have been slowly turning into a female replica of my father, and now it appears that I am simultaneously turning into my mother.

Back to the point: life is beautiful, math is beautiful, and I’m trying very hard to just take the heavy snowfall event that is going on right now in stride. The snow had just started its slow melting process and now everything is back to square one; this is not atypical for Calgary, but it does feel like winter will never end and spring will never come and we will be stuck with snow drifts and treacherous roads until the end of time.

The first person to complain about the “heat” when it gets to be 25 degrees in Calgary is going to get stabbed.

Well, perhaps not literally stabbed. Maybe just stabbed with an angry glare, like the Care Bear Stare but with much more vitriol.

My childhood Cheer Bear! This is, generally, my spirit animal, except when thinking about snowfall warnings and grocery carts.

Last weekend I found myself at the mall – not to worry, I’m still on my One Year Shopping Challenge, unbelievably enough, with four and a half months to go and I have bought nary an item – but I wanted some compression socks for running. I did enjoy peeking at the window displays and looking at the young girls wandering around, young girls being my fashion barometer. It’s one thing to see items remembered from childhood back in style, but it is, frankly, quite another to see items worn in one’s twenties back in style. It reminds me of the fleeting nature of time; the nineties were actually NOT JUST YESTERDAY, PEOPLE. Crop tops are the thing now, and while I loved them in my step-aerobics youth, I do not feel a woman of my age can really wear them without looking, as they say, like mutton dressed as lamb. What a gross and deplorable saying, and yet, it can accurately describe the feeling I have when I mentally try on today’s styles. Pants with very high waists, distressed and ripped jeans, cropped tops, and the like – these were things I wore in university. I finished grad school twenty years ago this year, TWENTY YEARS. So it only makes sense that they are now on point again but still.

Well, my wardrobe these days basically consists of yoga wear, topped with a cozy sweater and finished off with warm boots. I rarely wear a bra anymore due to the handy shelf bras in yoga tanks, which is starting to feel like a slippery slope. But even my much-loved lululemon is reflecting the styles of the nineties. For one thing, they now sell what is called a Belt Bag but is, in actuality, a fanny pack. The day I wear a fanny pack is the day I die, but there you go. Also for sale: the scrunchie. The SCRUNCHIE. I did love a good scrunchie back in the day, but I don’t think it’s mine to revisit. It reminds me of the Sex and the City episode where Carrie criticizes her boyfriend for writing a novel featuring a woman wearing a scrunchie, which seems like a very specific detail for a man to write about.

Ack! I just browsed a fashion site and came across a photo of a young woman wearing a floral dress with ankle boots, which was half my wardrobe, back the nineties. I guess I’ll just go back to researching my wrinkle creams and I’ll tell you about my amazing vegetarian glucosamine supplements another day. xo

This winter has frozen my brain

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Do You Want To Build A Snowman

No, not really. It’s been the snowiest – or one of the snowiest? I don’t really know – winters on record, and frankly, I am at the point where I cannot even conceptualize a time where I won’t be wearing numerous layers and a coat that requires its own postal code. I cannot remember what the yard looked like without giant drifts of snow, and I am starting to forget what it was like to drive down the street. I refuse to drive down the our street due to the enormous snow banks and ruts – if a car comes in the other direction, one of the cars must somehow get somehow onto a snow bank in order for the other to pass. It feels like a recipe for disaster, and as we all know, automobile-related disasters can only end in dramatic tears and frantic phone calls to my husband who, inevitably, will be at work and unable to help. I shall not drive down my street until such time as I do not need a four wheel drive and/ or nerves of steel. I was looking at my closet yesterday and noticed all the footwear that is lying dormant. I know there was a time when I wore light shoes and even light boots, but I cannot really remember it. I’ve lost all perspective – haven’t I just always worn heavy boots every single day? The local meteorologists insist that the melt is coming, but frankly, I can’t imagine it. I feel like I’m in a much less-gory and not-at-all-incestuous Game of Thrones winter, which is destined to last until we all die from lack of food/ murder/ being killed by White Walkers.

I’d Rage Against The Machine But I’m Too Tired

I realized with a start that time change is THIS WEEKEND. Goddamn Daylight Savings and all the lies associated with it. The Alberta government – not for the first time, and certainly not for the last – was the cause of grave disappointment when they announced that they would not do away with the time change, because “everyone else is doing it.” I feel like my own mother, if everyone was jumping off a bridge, would you do it too? Are we all lemmings here? If EVERYONE thinks that time change is an antiquated concept, and that it really does nothing for energy savings, and that it is inconvenient and the cause of many car accidents and issues due to pure exhaustion, then why doesn’t EVERYONE band together and just agree to do away with it? Every single year I think this and I am sure that given that this ridiculousness has lasted this long, I will be in the Home saying the same exact thing.

Awkward Is As Awkward Does

This week I had my annual physical, and my doctor’s office was very accommodating when I mentioned I was a little tight on time. I got there a few minutes early and the nurse promptly weighed and measured me, and took my heart rate and blood pressure. I was quickly escorted to the room where I was asked to change into the robe. I glanced at the enormous robe, momentarily forgetting which way to put it on. Does it tie in the back or the front? At that exact moment, while I was standing in the freezing room, completely nude, the doctor knocked and started to open the door – thinking, probably, that he was helping me out by not making me sit idly in the freezing room, but instead starting the checkup right away. I appreciated his promptness but, as I said, I was standing there naked, so I asked for just a moment, please. Does it tie in the front or the back? I remembered from my mammogram a few years back – when I made the wrong choice – that that gown tied in the front. Were we doing a breast exam today? Maybe? Front or back, front or back, just make a decision. I quickly pulled it on and tied it in the front just as the doctor knocked again and walked in. It was immediately apparent that I had, gravely, made the wrong decision. The doctor looked at me quizzically as I awkwardly said I couldn’t remember which way to put the gown on. “Well,” he said tactfully, “Usually it’s the other way.” USUALLY. Like there are other women out there desperately holding the gown together at the front, showcasing their complete lack of medical gown intuition. There were a few awkward moments when the doctor was testing my reflexes and listening with his stethoscope. Wardrobe malfunction! I am not generally a shy person and the doctor has seen it all before, but still, there is something unsettling about unexpectedly flashing the doctor while just sitting on the examining table as he asks questions about general energy levels and if I’m still getting my periods.

That’s One Way To Get More Business

With all the snow, and the usual thawing and refreezing cycle, sidewalks and parking lots have been absolutely treacherous. A few months ago I came across an elderly woman who had just fallen and, subsequently, broken her arm while walking on the sidewalk. She was just sitting there on the sidewalk, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. If you can make it down the sidewalks without such calamity, you need the agility of a mountain goat to climb over the huge snowbanks surrounding them. Walking the dog is becoming an adventure, is what I’m saying. The other day I saw a man slip and nearly bail right in front of a chiropractic/ physio clinic. Sheer ice…right in front of the clinic.

All The Ladies In The House Say HEY

Happy International Women’s Day! I may not still have my posters of the Feminist Manifesto and the fish on a bicycle, but the principles are still there (automobile-related incidents notwithstanding.) Keep on keeping on, you beautiful women. Let’s continue to lift each other up and support one another. xoxo

How To Be A Better Person

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Did you realize that TODAY is March 1? How did that happen? Well, time keeps on ticking and meanwhile it keeps snowing…but I’m not going to go there today.

What I was thinking about is that today – MARCH 1 OMG – marks two months from traditional New Year’s Resolution beginnings. Did you make any resolutions this year, and, if so, how are they going? My own resolutions ran the gamut from the somewhat vague – focusing more on single tasks, practicing more patience and mindfulness, being grateful every single day for the amazing gift of LIFE – and the concrete – squeeze in more movement every day, read more, play the piano once a week – and I’m happy to report that I am doing all those things. Well, the piano doesn’t always get played weekly but I did learn how to play the theme song from Cheers, which has been a goal for a long time and, frankly, is not very difficult. I could have done that years ago!

My resolutions, such as they are, are a work in progress. This isn’t like the time I resolved to learn how to bake bread or use my decorator tips or how to play Where Everybody Knows Your Name – it’s not a One and Done thing. I think that one of the great benefits – and part of the appeal – of New Years Resolutions is that they make us BETTER. Whether our resolutions have us paying better attention to our physical health and wellness, or to attaining or honing a skill, or to becoming better equipped emotionally to make the world a happier place, there is generally a common theme: we want to be better people. We want to be better, we want to do better.

This is the premise of my friend Kate Hanley’s latest book: How To Be A Better Person. You may remember that Kate is the author of Stress Less, which I reviewed last April with an anecdote about becoming curious instead of furious when a delivery man became incredibly angry with me. How To Be A Better Person is similar in format to Stress Less, and reads like a combination self-help book and checklist for life. There are over 400 simple ways to make a difference in yourself and the world, each with a little box beside it so you could, presumably, check one off each time you achieve them. I did not do that, but I did dog-ear each page when I thought hey, that’s what I can write about. Don’t judge me! It’s my book, I’ll dog-ear if I want to. But there were so many good little nuggets in there that my book is now one big dog-ear. I could write a whole blog series on this book! I’ll try to be succinct.

The book is broken up into eight sections: See the Positive, Connect With Your Feelings, Be Healthy, Show Love, Give Back, Stay Committed, Work Well, and Let Go of Your Stuff. I will admit that I liked the Be Healthy section the best, because I was already doing literally everything in that chapter: eating lots of fruits and vegetables, drinking lots of water, doing yoga, moving more, getting outside no matter what the weather (thank you Barkley for the motivation on that one). But I think the other chapters, that felt more difficult when it came to self-awareness, are more helpful.

For example:

If there ever was an Important Parenting Reminder, it would be this. We are all walking our own paths, and no one can do it for us. This is HARD though, when it comes to parenting, but so very important. This reminds me, a bit, of that famous “Your children are not your children” poem from Kahlil Gibran, which you can read in its entirety here. “And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.” How often do we think of our children as extensions of ourselves? Their failures become our failures, their successes are our successes. Sometimes we may even find ourselves living vicariously through them, through our own dreams and visions, and those dreams and visions may not have any import to them. Of course we must show we care and give them tools to make good choices, but those choices are theirs and theirs alone. This is so difficult, particularly when our children are different from us. Actually, it’s difficult when our children are similar to us too, as we can really take to heart their experiences and way of thinking. Their lives are their lives, and they must live them. I mean, think back when you were a teenager – you had choices to make and consequences to live with, and those decisions were yours and yours alone. We must let our kids do the same – even if it kills us!

Which brings me to this:

Sometimes my kids will be telling me something about their day, and I will become panicked about a small detail, whereas they are calm and cool. Clearly, this is my own issue and I’ve made it about me, and not them. Triggers – we have to learn what sets them off and how to deal with them. Just like I know that I cannot eat even one potato chip or else I will be scarfing down the entire Costco sized bag in minutes, a trigger can lead to regrettable outcomes.

But, it can also lead to good outcomes if managed properly. I was at Costco on Monday and as usual, the parking lot was a disaster; not only are there giant snow piles taking up parking spaces, but the usual “corral, what corral?” mentality was rampant. My friend Janet (HI JANET) always says that weekdays at 2:00 are the Magical Costco Times in terms of lineups and general busyness, but unfortunately 2:00 means that there are four hours for people to leave their carts willy-nilly all over the place, and on Monday there were many carts scattered throughout the lot, taking up parking spaces and generally destroying my sense of Parking Lot Feng Shui. Do I talk about shopping carts too much? Probably. But clearly this is a trigger for me; I can stand in long lineups with patience, I can let people go ahead of me, I will take a spot farther from the door to free up others for people less mobile, I will smile and chat happily with the staff.

But when it comes to seeing people walk their carts over to where ten other carts are scattered in the parking spaces and leave them, when the CORRAL IS RIGHT THERE, OMG, IT’S TEN STEPS AWAY, well.

I weep for humanity.

But as Kate says in the book, use it as a reminder to do something nice for yourself. For the amount of time I spend grocery shopping, I will be able to do many nice things for myself when I see disasters like this. Maybe I should book a pedicure. As it was, I put my bins in a cart – when you can’t do a lot, do a little, says Kate – and I practiced my ujjayi breathing as I went into the store. I bought two packs of my favourite cherry tomatoes, I smiled at a cute baby and his mama, I practiced gratitude for the ability to buy healthy and delicious food for my family.

And then I glared at a perfectly-able person shoving his cart in the direction of a bunch of other errant carts, causing a pool-table ripple effect of carts, some coming close to hitting parked cars. I glared and glared, and then, like a crazy person, gave a giant smile to another person who was actually returning his cart to the corral. GOD BLESS YOU, SIR. I hope he felt my positive vibes and I hope he had the best Costco Karma ever.