Category Archives: Luckiness

My Orlando break from reality

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Here’s a fun way to lose weight and tone up those legs: walk 72 kilometers in 5 days. That’s what I did this past week, on my trip to Disney World and Universal Studios.

Selma

This was me a few times on the trip, but with less awesome hair.

I’m going to just come out and say it: we have taken the kids on lots of trips, and this was by far the best one for everyone. We had so much fun, and to be honest, I didn’t really expect to. I mean, I thought I would just sort of enjoy the trip by osmosis, since my husband and kids were so over-the-moon excited, but I honestly loved the whole experience so much.

I have a lot to say about it, and plane travel in general, and tips like “Never take the Magic Express Bus at 12:30 pm because that is when all the small children are going back to their hotel for a nap. If you do, prepare for much crying.” But for now, I will leave you with the highlights.

Christmas Everywhere

Since we were there after the US Thanksgiving, everything was decorated for Christmas. This included the Blues Brothers’ vehicle. At Universal, my husband and I watched them perform Christmas-themed versions of their songs – “I’m a SNOWMAN” – while the kids rode on the Transformers ride for the twelfth time.

BluesBrothers

Elwood

Bluesbrotherssing

I wish we’d gotten a photo of them decorating a small Christmas tree with packages of Marlboroughs and Pabst Blue Ribbon cans.

AnimalTree

There are Christmas trees everywhere!

 

Grinch

“And they’re hanging their stockings!” he snarled with a sneer.

Macy

Universal has a “Macy’s Parade” every night at 5 pm, and it’s very fun to watch. Those are random people in the photo.

The famous Sleeping Beauty castle was all lit up with Christmas lights, and it was pretty special. The one downside? I actually got a bit tired of Christmas music. I know! But when you hear “It’s the MOST wonderful TIME of the YEARRRRRRRRRR” over and over, you weary of it. A bit.

Nostalgia for Cars

For many years, my house was vehicle-crazy. The boys had pretty much every Cars movie character in miniature form, we had books about Cars characters, and a large percentage of every day was devoted to “playing Cars.” We stayed in the Art of Animation resort, which was separated into four different themes: Little Mermaid, Finding Nemo, Lion King, and Cars. This is where we stayed:

Wheel Well

There were life-sized climbable Cars characters all along the pathway (Route 66) to the different buildings.

Doc Hudson

Guido

If we had gone when the kids were small, we would have never made it out of the resort. They would have just wanted to play around Doc Hudson and the rest of the gang all day long.

The Art of Animation was a great hotel, with lots of vegetarian choices at the cafeteria, so I was happy. We had a suite, which meant TWO bathrooms. This really made the trip go from great to amazing. They also have some fun looking pools – the kids only swam one night, since we were so busy at the parks – and there is even a pool bar, which made me even more happy.

Roller Coasters

I don’t love all rides – anything that spins makes me feel ill – but I love roller coasters. Disney has some really fun ones, like Everest and the Rock and Roller Coaster, but Universal had the ultimate crazy ride: the Rip Ride Rockit. I didn’t get a photo but the description is here. It was the craziest thing I’ve ever been on, truly. My heart was pounding when I boarded it, and I asked the guy beside me if he’d ever been on it. He replied that he didn’t speak English, but he screamed “HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT” through the whole ride. Holy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit indeed.

Universal

My hair in a neat bun pre-Rip Ride Rockit.

Krustyland

Universal has a whole section devoted to The Simpsons, and it has piqued my children’s interest in watching the show. I haven’t watched it for probably fifteen years, but I’m hoping to find some reruns of the classics, like Duff Gardens – if only to explain this to the kids:

Surly

Me and Surly.

Duff

The Duff Man. Note my hair, straining to be released from its bun. That was after Rip Ride Rockit.

Harry Potter

I have not seen the movies, nor read the books, but we have Harry Potter fans in the house. The train alone that goes between parks is worthwhile, even if you don’t know Harry Potter from a hole in the ground.

HP

Snow in Orlando!

Bank

The dragon actually roars.

The Muppets

My love for the Muppets is well known. At Disney’s Hollywood Studios, there is a Muppet 3D attraction, and it’s fabulous.

Muppet Theatre

A little excited, I guess.

MuppetVision

Squee!

Star Wars

I have saved the best for last. Unless you are disconnected from any kind of media – in which case, you are probably not reading this – the new Star Wars movie is coming out in EIGHT DAYS. The countdown has been on at my house for a while, and we were all pretty excited to hear that Disney was opening its new Star Wars Launch Bay on December 1. We were there December 4! It was pretty much impossible not to get caught up in it. We all enjoyed Star Tours SEVERAL times, went to see a “Path of the Jedi” short film, and we looked at the many artifacts at the Launch Bay. We even stood in line to meet a celebrity. Now, my kids couldn’t care less about meeting Mickey, or a princess, or any other character at Disney. But we did want to meet this guy:

Chewie

He loves me!

Now it’s back to reality – tomorrow I’m chaperoning a field trip! Although it was a short vacation, it felt like longer, like a real break from reality. Which, I guess, it really is.

Hashtag: Boner Killer

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In lo, these many years since my children have been in the public school system – and even before that, when they were in a privately-run preschool – I have seen my share of Spirit Days. From Twin Day to Olympic Day to my much-loathed Dress As Your Favourite Story Book Character Day and it’s equally-loathed Dress As What You Want To Be When You Grow Up Day, I’ve seen them all. I am a veteran of Spirit Days.

Having said that, my children have never once participated in Crazy Hair Day.

Do not get me wrong; Crazy Hair Day is greatly preferred to Crazy Hat Day. Crazy Hat Day was almost always followed by Lice Notice Day, which is no one’s favourite day. We have been very lucky; the boys have less than an inch of hair at any given time, and have – so far, knock on wood and throw salt around – never been afflicted by lice. I’d like to keep it that way.

Yes, the boys have haircuts you could set a watch to, by their own choosing. Once, Jake thought he’d grow his hair out a bit; by the time he had 3/4 of an inch of hair on his forehead he was begging to get it cut. They go into the barbershop like they’re ordering Chinese takeout: I’d like the number 2 on the sides and number 4 on top, please.

But today they decided they would participate in Crazy Hair Day, so they went into the bathroom with a bottle of gel and after a solid twelve minutes of effort, came out looking like this:

crazyhairday

 SETTLE DOWN THERE, BOYS. No need to get so wild.

Speaking of wild, a set of Golden Girls panties came out on the market, and I was notified by no fewer than six people. God, I love my friends: people see “Golden Girls panties” and they immediately think “Nicole would like those.”

 goldengirls

NOTE: The Blanche ones are crotchless.

I ALMOST want to shell out the $160 for the set and then get some boudoir photos taken to give to my husband at Christmas. Sssshhh…don’t tell him. I’m sure he would be thrilled.

georgecostanza

An obstacle is an unrecognized opportunity.

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I’ve come a long way throughout the years, and I’ve learned a lot from my mistakes. A person who never made a mistake is a person who never tried anything new was displayed on the wall of Jake’s old classroom, and I think that’s inspirational. I regularly tell my children that mistakes are learning opportunities, and that we become better as we learn from them.

All of which is to say that I do not shop at Costco without a list anymore. In fact, I go through my pantry and cupboards and make a very specific list, and I do not deviate from that list. If I don’t have vanilla extract on the list, I don’t buy it; the fact is I will not need to buy it for some time, since I have several Costco-sized bottles in my pantry as we speak.

Learning opportunities.

The last time I really went off the list, to my own detriment, was when I purchased a giant double-pack of plastic wrap. I rarely use plastic wrap, and I certainly did not need a gigantic double-pack. I purchased that double-pack in late 2013 and I JUST opened it a few weeks ago. Sadly, the quality of the plastic wrap is terrible, so I am doomed to decades of using crappy plastic wrap, since there is no way in hell I am going to throw it out. I will probably go to my grave with this plastic wrap still in my pantry. My great-grandchildren will come to clean out my apartment in the senior’s complex and they will look at the plastic wrap with wonder. What did Grandma think she was going to do with all that plastic wrap? Then they will take it upon themselves to use it up, and I just hope that it doesn’t have crazy monkey-paw powers.

Anyway, last week I went to Costco with my list in hand, and right at the door, right there, was a huge display of flower bulbs. As though struck by lightning, I stopped my giant cart in front of the display with wide eyes and palpable excitement. BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS BULBS was going through my head to the tune of that old Meow Mix commercial. I literally could not move. People were steering their carts around me probably wondering what just happened to that insane looking woman by the bulb display.

Now, bulbs were not on my list. I didn’t even know that bulbs were an option. I decided to make an exception to my rule and dithered for several minutes between the varieties of tulips, daffodils, hyanciths, and crocuses before finally settling on a mix of apricot and deep purple tulips, and a variety pack of yellow, purple, and variegated crocuses. After putting them in my cart, I had to pull over by the watch display and regroup. I felt the way a toddler must feel when fed a package of gummy bears, brought into Toys R Us, and told to choose two things. I felt slightly unglued and totally unfocused, and I had to read my list several times just to become in a normal Costco-shopping state again. After some time, I felt equal to the task, and went looking for the tamari almonds.

When I got home I immediately texted my husband to tell him I bought a total of fifty tulips and eighty crocuses; my mother then phoned and I told her of my exciting day. She asked, quite reasonably, where I was planning to put one hundred and thirty bulbs in my already-full gardens.

As they say in Pinterest’s inspirational quotes and public school classrooms, an obstacle is often an unrecognized opportunity. A stepping stone, if you will. The weather last Saturday turned out to be beautiful and warm, and so Mark and I spent a few hours digging around my perennials and shrubs, looking for spaces. One such unrecognized opportunity was my hosta garden. The kitchen window faces this garden, and during July, August, and even, sometimes, September, this garden is a thing of beauty: giant variegated leaves, a dogwood and a giant spirea shrub, colourful impatiens, and an inukshuk made from large rocks collected at my husband’s childhood home.

At all other times of the year, however, it’s a depressingly dull strip of dirt with leafless shrubs and the inukshuk standing all alone in the soil.

It is especially depressing in May, because all the other plants and shrubs, in their sunny locales throughout the yard, are green and lovely and in some cases, even blooming. If I’m lucky, there might be a half inch of hosta growth poking out of the ground and the beginning of leaves on the spirea. Since I spent most of my time in the kitchen, staring out at this barren wasteland of a north-facing garden, I really wanted to change it somehow.

Crocuses are the answer! If all goes well, in May I should have about sixty yellow, purple, and variegated crocuses popping up in the garden, hopefully bridging the gap between snow melt and post-frost planting time. It’s something to look forward to, since there was frost on the grass and roof this morning and it definitely feels like WINTER IS COMING. But for now, I’ll just enjoy the fall and try not to think about it too much.

Tulips

Tulips2

Hail the conquering hero!

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There’s just something so satisfying about conquering something that you had previously thought unconquerable. Climbing the mountain, running the marathon, or – in my case – going on a field trip.

As you know, over the years I’ve been incredibly adverse to field trips, with the single exception being the preschool trip to the fire hall. I think we all can understand why, without my getting into any details about the heroically strong firefighters. In fact, the last field trip that I chaperoned was nearly three years ago and I volunteered under extreme duress. It was just as terrible as I had thought it would be; given the sheer amount of volunteering I do at the school, I felt that it was perfectly acceptable to say no more field trips. Never again.

But there have been several changes in my life since the ill-fated trip to the museum. For one thing, I am no longer chairing the school council and parent association, which has left me with extra time. For another thing, my children are now in grades five and six, and children this age are much less likely to run away or get separated from the group, and that paranoia of losing someone else’s child has long kept me from chaperoning field trips. Buoyed up by my friends Catherine (HI CATHERINE) and Allison (HI ALLISON), who are seasoned field-trip veterans, I signed up for a walking trip to the nearby Whispering Woods, a nature park attached to a nearby school, which features an outdoor classroom, several pathways, and interpretive signs.

I was assigned a group of nine boys, and I am just going to go out on a limb here and say that my group was superior to other groups. For one thing, these nine boys were quite studious and full of information that they seemed to enjoy divulging to me, from their country of origin and interesting things about it to the house with big windows that was listed for sale that we all admired on the way to the woods. Other than one slightly hyper boy who enjoyed randomly squirting his water bottle on the sidewalk and then laughing hysterically, the group was – I thought – extraordinarily calm and well behaved.

As a small digression, I can’t help but note that the girl-heavy groups were the ones who were constantly eye-rolling and making sarcastic comments about the useless-ness of the information gathered and the field trip in general. Also, while we were in the outdoor classroom supposedly making notes about what defines a tree, a daddy-long-legs spider crawled beside one of the girls, who took that opportunity to FLIP THE FUCK OUT, thus inciting a general scream-fest with the other girls in the class.

So I was pleased with my group, and they were pleased with me, as I overheard a few of them say to Mark “You have a really nice mom! You’re so lucky!” which spurred me to rashly volunteer for more upcoming trips, including one in a few weeks with Jake’s class, in which I will have to ride on the school bus. I feel I will have much more to say on that topic at a later date.

The field trip itself only had one snag – other than the spidery scream-fest – and that is that it was evident, upon wandering through the paths, that some of the itinerant population seem to be camping in the little woods. It was further evidenced by the appearance of human feces, plus toilet paper, right on one of the middle paths, at which I could only think, really? We can talk about social issues and homelessness, but seriously? Right in the middle of a path frequented by children? In a woods attached to an elementary school and within walking distance to four other schools? Could we not go off the path to defecate, homeless people?

Anyway. I’m sorry to bring up such a gross topic, let’s take our minds off that with a socially awkward moment of mine. Last night was the Welcome Back BBQ at the school, which is a great opportunity to meet the teachers or – if you’re like me – just chat with all the teachers and parents in a casual, sunny setting. The boys had mentioned to me that the assistant principal had changed her name, to which information Mark added “I guess she got married.” Of course, as soon as I saw her last night, I said in my most effusive and excited tones, “Oh, I hear congratulations are in order!”

She looked at me somewhat blankly and asked why. At this point I knew. I knew exactly where this was going to go and what mistake I had made. I stumbled blankly for a moment, saying that I thought I’d heard, well, her name changed…at which point she said “Oh no, I didn’t get married. I got divorced!”

I had a deer-in-headlights look for a moment, considering my awkward social gaffe. She was extremely gracious, saying that it was a GOOD thing and that I probably COULD congratulate her on it, and everything was FINE, but still. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a rewind button? Note to self, check out left hand PRIOR to congratulating someone on their recent nuptials.

See you in September

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Today is the very last day of summer vacation and I’m simultaneously melancholy about the fleeting nature of time, and excited to get back into routines. Every single platitude about time and children getting older (I’mmmmm getting older toooooooo) seems more poignant every year. I don’t want to be all “My BABIES” or anything, but I keep being reminded that I only have a limited number of summers to spend with the kids, and at some point they are not going to want to go bowling or watch Downton Abbey with their mom, so I Must Cherish Every Moment. Of course, all that cherishing gets tiring after a while, and so everyone is getting excited about back-to-school. I am, especially, looking forward to not working frantically between 7 and 9 am to get things done so I can Cherish My Darling Children All Day Long.

At this very moment, Cat’s in the Cradle came on the radio. Nice timing, 70s on 7.

The boys will be in Grades Five and Six this year; I have nice memories about Grade Six, but Grade Five was unequivocally the worst of my entire school career, due to typical ten-year-old Mean Girl Syndrome. I’m trying not to project, though, and Mark tells me that Grade Five Was The Most Epic Year Ever, so hopefully it’s equally epic for Jake.

Part of the back-to-school excitement is coming from actual certain knowledge of the kids’ new classes and teachers. Last week I received an email confirming a) each child’s teacher, b) each child’s classroom number, and c) the door at which each child is to line up at. This might sound like nothing to you, but it is certainly a big deal to me. In previous years, we wouldn’t know who the teachers would be or what classroom the kids would be in until 8:45 on the first day of school. Is that not a ridiculous system? Arriving at the school at 8:45, milling around the courtyard with hundreds of kids and their parents, looking for a teacher with a clipboard who would look up names and then finding the appropriate lineup. It was inevitable that there would be sad looking, teary-eyed children discovering that they’d been split from all their friends, and parents trying to Make The Best Of The Situation. I cannot imagine why it’s taken so long to implement such a normal strategy such as emailing parents to disperse information about teachers and classrooms so that kids can be prepared on the first day, but, continuing with platitudes, Better Late Than Never.

Filing under Other Things The School Rocks At, each fall parents pay a fee and school supplies are purchased by the school and distributed throughout the year. I cannot emphasize enough how appreciative I am of this policy, especially when I hear of my friends in other school boards frantically shopping for three lined notebooks in blue, green, and red or twelve number two pencils, yellow, all appropriately labelled, or a ridiculously unrealistic number of Elmer’s glue sticks. Unfortunately I often forget that not every school is the same, and I inevitably find myself thinking, on the first week of school, hmmm…I should go pick up some toothpaste and then ending up in Walmart feeling like I should just probably burn the whole store down and everyone in it, just to end the misery.

What is it about Walmart? Why is it so agonizing there? The boys and I briefly stopped in there last week to pick up some Benadryl and hand lotion, and it was a soul-destroying experience. It didn’t help that we were there on what appeared to be Shelf Restocking Day, and so the aisles were clogged with giant dollies full of product, and no product on shelves, along with people stocking up on sheaves of paper on sale for ten cents each. There was a giant lineup snaking into the “jewelry” department, along with six empty cashiers for 12 items or less. Fortunately that was us, and I wondered, if Walmart has some kind of conspiracy to keep people coming back multiple times just to get in the 12 items or less lineup. Why punish people who get in excess of 12 items? It makes no sense, but it must make sense to someone at Walmart Headquarters. It’s a puzzle for sure, but the bigger puzzle is if it’s really worth it to me to save $2 on Benadryl or if next time, I should just pick it up at the much-less-chaotic old-people Co-Op.

Hashtag “Blessed”

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Yesterday the kids really wanted to go to the amusement park, and although that meant TWO big outings in one week, I agreed. It’s Stampede Week and the amusement park is always quiet at this time of the year, we have season’s passes, and also it was a beautiful sunny day. I was preparing snacks and water bottles when I got a call from my husband: his building had a small fire and the office was closed for the day, so he was on his way back home.

Score!

As soon as he got in the door the kids immediately begged him to come with us. This NEVER happens, since we usually do our outings during the week when he’s at work. The four of us piled into the car and headed off, and we had the best time. There’s nothing like going to the amusement park with both parents to showcase which one of us is the “fun one” (hint: it’s not me). I did, however, agree to go on the bumper cars with the kids and although at times I felt like Marge Simpson, driving neatly in a clockwise direction, it was a blast.

I maintain that there cannot feasibly be two really fun parents in a relationship, and I’m okay with not being the fun one. I don’t really want to go on the log ride, for example, and I certainly don’t want to get shot with water in the bumper boats. And yet sometimes this can be hard on my non-cool ego. A few weeks ago we were discussing over dinner which Star Wars character best represented each person in our family. The boys had agreed that their father was most like Han Solo, Jake was most like Luke, and Mark was just like Anakin prior to going over to the Dark Side. When I asked which character I was most like, they both thought for a moment, and then agreed – IN UNISON – that I was most like C-3PO.

I related this to my friend Hannah, who soothed my soul by saying I was Princess Leia in a gold bikini, and I shouldn’t let anyone tell me otherwise. I would like to think that I could choke a giant slug with my neck chain, but sadly I’m now convinced that I am most like the second-lamest character in the entire Star Wars series.

Leia copy

Have you ever had the experience of sharing something from your childhood with your own children, and you build it up and build it up and then it’s a total letdown because they are bored or uninterested or politely concede that it’s “okay?” I’ve had that experience numerous times, but this week was different. I discovered Top Gun is now on Canadian Netflix.

Longtime readers know how I feel about Top Gun. If not, please read this post right now. I’ll wait.

I decided to watch it Wednesday evening, since my husband was going to be at a Stampede event and I wanted something fun for myself. I asked the boys if they wanted to watch it with me, and they said yes. Mark watched and enjoyed the first and last thirty minutes, wandering off mid-movie to do something else, as is his wont. But Jake. Jake LOVED it. He loved the story line. He loved the flight scenes. He loved the call signs and the lessons learned and Maverick turning into a Team Player after all. I skipped through the sex scene, but other than that he watched the whole movie and was glued to it the whole time. He analyzed it extensively, saying things like “I don’t think Maverick is really mad at Sundown. He’s just upset because Goose is gone now.”

We have now perfected the double high-five – up high, and backwards down low, and he says that he wants this to be our playground goodbye, instead of the fist-bump that we’ve been doing for years. He is now saying things to me such as “Mom, you can be my wingman anytime.” It brings tears of joy to my eyes.

This morning, when he woke up, he asked if we could watch Top Gun together again soon.

YES, YES, A MILLION TIMES YES.

The Hippo Whisperer

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It’s Stampede Week in Calgary, and on Friday my husband headed into the office, wearing cowboy boots, a plaid shirt, and jeans. He looked pretty hot, by the way, but his usual work wear is a suit and tie (which is also hot. Hello? Hooters for women would just be guys walking around in suits holding up their credit scores, am I right?). In any case, Mark was hugging him goodbye and then stopped. He looked at my husband, and the shock and confusion on his face was impossible to hide. Um, Dad? Are you…going to work? Is this…casual Friday?

Then yesterday my husband brought out his cowboy hat, to wear to a function, and Jake gave him the side-eye. Dad? You don’t look like a cowboy. You just look like some dude in a cowboy hat.

My poor husband is going to have some self-esteem issues by the time the week is over.

Stampede Week is a great time to get out and do non-Stampede-related things around the city, so this morning the kids and I went to the zoo. They have a Dinosaurs Alive exhibit that was last there in 2010. This was me and the boys looking at a Parasauralophus in 2010:

para

And this is them in front of the Parasauralophus now:

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I THINK THEY’VE GROWN.

One thing that hasn’t changed over the years is Jake’s deep and abiding love of hippos. Remember Foggy, and how deeply we mourned him? Jake has grown to love Ghost, Foggy’s grandson, just as much. As a side note, Ghost is no longer actually called Ghost, but Lobi; however, in our house he has remained and forever will remain Ghost.

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And I don’t know how it happens, I honestly don’t, but every single time we visit the zoo, something occurs that deepens Jake’s belief that he and the hippos are inextricably bonded. Today when we visited Ghost, the giant hippo turned around, looked at Jake, and wiggled his ears. When we were leaving, Jake said “Bye, Ghost,” at which point the hippo honked loudly. Cynics may think this is a silly coincidence, but I am not going to dispute Jake’s belief that he and the hippo are communicating. This is the kid who never believed in the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny, and who stopped believing in Santa when he was in kindergarten. If anyone tries to tell him that he is not the Hippo Whisperer, I will stab that motherfucker, I swear I will.

On a much less violent note, yesterday I was invited to a Ladies’ Lunch in honour of my niece’s fifth birthday, and it was so nice! There were eight of us: her grandmas, aunties, big sisters, and her mom. Her other auntie also has two boys, and between the two of us, I thought we might steal the gifts to play with ourselves. I had given her a paper doll/ sticker book, and it was all I could do not to cut out the dolls and start dressing them up. The boys and I went shopping last week to pick it out and they could not have been less interested.

Me: Should I get the pink puppy one, or the dolly one?

Jake: Puppies.

Me: Really? Because this dolly one is really cute too.

Mark: Then get the dolly one.

Me: I’m just not sure which is cuter!

Jake: JUST PICK ONE. IT DOESN’T MATTER.

Mark: I’m going to look at the Percy Jackson books, come on, Jake.

Maybe I should have gotten the pink puppy one for myself.