Category Archives: When I grow up

The show is about NOTHING.

Posted on by

Another book fair in the books! For those of you playing along at home, that was number fourteen, and it was by far the most successful book fair ever! We raised over $4700 for the library, home reading program, and English as a Learned Language program, which means that the total for THIS SCHOOL YEAR is $8200, far and beyond what our fundraising has been in the past. Yay for book fair! Now that I’m slowly coming to the final chapters of my years as Book Fair Lady, I’m starting to already feel nostalgic for it. The posters are five dollars, I said starting at 9:10 on the first day and then repeated that mantra many times over; this isn’t unusual, but it was unusual how unbothered I was by the question. Is this one hundred dollars? a child asked, holding up a highlighter shaped like a bottle of nail polish? No, I assured him, It’s one dollar.

100dollars

But it has two zeros at the end of it and that means one hundred! the child argued. Not wanting to get into a whole decimal point explanation with him, I sold him a pencil sharpener shaped like a fish.

I ran into a friend on the way into the book fair, and we laughed about the nail polish highlighters. But you can polish your nails with the highlighter! she joked, unwittingly foreshadowing the very first conversation I would have about those highlighters. How did she know?

Anyway, I’ve been feeling pretty good about the success about the fair, or I was until someone mentioned to me that it might be worthwhile to run another one, so we could have three a year. I stared blankly for a minute. Blink. Blink. I don’t think so…

In addition to the great excitement surrounding the book fair was Pink Shirt Day. I always, always vow to finally find or make a pink shirt for my kids, and I always, always forget until the day before, when it’s too late. Do your kids have Pink Shirt Day at school? It’s an anti-bullying movement sparked by a boy wearing a pink shirt. I feel that it’s a great thing to raise awareness about bullying – of course – but I have to tell you, it’s the bane of my existence. As I said, I never remember to buy/ make a pink shirt. I feel slightly weird about the whole thing, kids wearing their pink shirts with pride while I meanwhile know about certain girls pulling that emotional bullying stuff that only tween girls do so well. Also, one year one of my sons burst into tears at his lack of pink shirt; he assumed that everyone would consider him a bully for not having one. That year I had to pin a piece of pink paper on his shirt, frantically, because explanations were just not working. I also feel weird about the families who maybe cannot afford to buy a pink shirt that will go unworn for the remainder of the year. And yet, I don’t want to be the person who is NOT for Pink Shirt Day.

Our amazing principal saved the day, however, declaring that red and purple shirts were just as good as pink. Now that is some good leadership. I was relieved…until I discovered that for Jake, blue and green are the new black. What my drawer is for black sweaters, his is for blue and green waffle weave. We had to improvise with a karate t-shirt that had a red flag on it.

pinkshirt

Yesterday after school, Jake came out saying he couldn’t find one of his mittens. We do have spares at home, but these are not cheap mittens, and so I hustled him and Mark back to the school. We grabbed a door as someone was coming out just before it closed – the doors are locked for safety reasons – and as we waited for the kids to come out so we could go in, Mark leaned on the closed double door. The door snapped open with a child eager to get the funk out of school, smacking Mark directly in the face. Eeep! He had a huge lump on his forehead and has had a headache since then, but otherwise seems okay. I’m just happy it didn’t hit him in the nose, because it would have probably been broken. Small mercies, but with the help of Tylenol, an ice pack, and an episode of Seinfeld – which he currently professes to love – the swelling seemed to go down a bit.

Now, about this Seinfeld thing. I’ve seen every episode ever made, and I love that the kids are interested enough to watch with me. They think Kramer, Newman, and George are the funniest characters on TV – which they just might be. However, there are some adult themes (“It has come to my attention that you and the cleaning lady had sexual intercourse on your desk.”) that are slightly awkward, but the kids aren’t interested. Ew. If this is about sex, can you fast-forward? Yes. Yes I can.

bookfair

Happy weekend, everyone. I for one will be enjoying my wine, and also the new season of House of Cards! xo

Take The Wheel

Posted on by

This afternoon marks the fourteenth book fair that I will set up. A few weeks ago I was dragging, thinking about it, when a few friends told me I should go back and read my post-book fair blog posts. It worked! I was motivated once again by the thought of happy kids, a happy school librarian, and my fleeting moment in the sun as the Book Fair Lady. This will be my fifth-to-last book fair that I will run in my life, so I guess I better make them count. One day, there will be no more questions about the cost of posters (FIVE DOLLARS) or if a cake pop-shaped pen is edible, or if I can order the latest Diary of a Wimpy Kid. And, just like the day I realized that the kids no longer crawl into my bed and wake me up on Saturday mornings, it will be bittersweet.

The task associated with the book fair that I dread most is photocopying, cutting, sorting, and distributing the little forms for the school-wide draw. It is a task that takes literally less than thirty minutes to complete but it hangs over me like a heavy black cloud. It’s not unlike how making a phone call for a dentist appointment is almost worse than the appointment itself. Oh my god, I have to pick up the PHONE and decide on a TIME and what if they have no good times AVAILABLE…

But happily the photocopying was done last week, I have my dream team of volunteers helping with everything this week (HI VOLUNTEERS IF YOU ARE READING THIS) and, as a bonus, it’s almost March! March is, as Pa Ingalls says with great cheer and terrible foreboding in The Long Winter, spring!

NOTE: March is not spring. But it is a happy kind of month, right? More sunshine, my wedding anniversary, Mark’s birthday, spring break…

Did you watch the Oscars last night? I did, although I haven’t seen any of the movies and, in fact, am so out of the loop that I don’t even know who 90% of the people are. I mean, I can still pick out Oprah and Stedman, and I was delighted to discover (two minutes before the show started) that Neil Patrick Harris was hosting. I know who Emma Stone is because I’ve seen her in a few movies and she was the actress who would play me in the movie version of my life, according to a Buzzfeed quiz I did a long time ago. Not only have I not seen the movies, I didn’t even know what movies were nominated or even vaguely what said movies are about. The one exception was Boyhood, and the only thing I really know about it is that it took twelve years to make. I read a review on Swistle’s blog and decided that it wasn’t for me. I don’t want to watch anything that might be upsetting.

jesus

I don’t know who this Jesus-lookalike is behind Patricia Arquette, but may I suggest “Jesus, Take The Wheel” as an alternate caption?

Apparently I’m okay with reading upsetting things, however, since I just finished The Goldfinch. I’d heard a lot of rave reviews about it, and I will say this: it is an extremely well written book with some very good plot twists. It did not end the way I expected, which I like in a book. However – and this will make me sound like a square, but hey, I am one – there is way too much drug usage in this book, in a gross, graphic way. NO ONE needs to read about that much vomit.

I needed a literary palate-cleanser after finishing The Goldfinch, so I dug out my old, ratty copy of Elvis and Me. Man, that is a bizarre story. Can you imagine being the parents of a fourteen-year-old girl who starts dating twenty-four-year-old Elvis Presley? And can you imagine being Elvis’ living doll who wears what he says to and develops a personality based on what he wants? It’s a strangely compelling story, one I read many times in my youth. I highly recommend it as light reading if you’ve just finished a depressing epic of a novel. It’s worth it just to look at photos like this:

priscilla priscilla2

The styles of the Sixties! How long do you think it would take her to wash and comb out that hair? That really puts my Eighties bangs to shame, I must say.

How to be the most glamourous, exciting, and charming girl in your set.

Posted on by

So much sadness, my washer died mid-cycle today, leaving behind a stinky mess of sopping wet clothes and an odour that is permeating the basement. Goodbye, washer. I’ll miss you. Meanwhile I spent a sizeable chunk of time pulling the clothes out and finding places to hang them so they won’t mildew prior to my camping out at a VERY KIND friend’s house with my laundry basket. I feel a bit like a desperate university student, like I’m going to start dragging a garbage bag full of clothes around with me. Also, I dripped some of the icky undrained water on my sweater and leggings so now I feel like I smell a bit. I probably do smell a bit, distressingly enough.

Anyway, there are worse problems, right? Like finding this is in the green space behind my house:

deadguy

I was backing out of the garage, on my way to run errands, and I saw a leg sticking out from behind a pile of branches. Hmm. I have seen people, on many occasions, passed out in the alley and green space behind my house, so I assumed it was a similar situation. Hours later, it was still there. By this time I had the kids in the car and I had to know – was it a body? I told the kids to stay put and I nervously approached what I HOPED wasn’t a dead body. The kids kept yelling from the car, to not go near it, because it was DEAD. Mom, NO. NO! Don’t go near the dead body!

And yet, I was compelled to approach it, because I worried that if it was actually a dead body, we would have an unreported dead body in the alley, and that seemed way worse than my viewing said dead body. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it was just a mannequin with its arm ripped off, and yet, it wasn’t all that reassuring. How did it get there? What, exactly, are my neighbours up to?

Speaking of creepy, I’ve been going through my Childhood Boxes of Terror, as my husband calls them, and there are some very interesting findings indeed. For example, a Xeroxed letter from Corey Hart, indicating my admission into the Corey Hart Fan Club.

CoreyHart

And in case you’re not sure it gets better than that, it does.

RoyalBaby

This ain’t my first rodeo OR Royal Baby Watch.

Those old People magazines are a hoot, by the way. The hairstyles alone are worth the price of admission. Plus, there are so many cigarette ads! Virginia Slims – You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby. Not only did I collect these magazines, paper doll books, and commemorative publications, but I also had this:

Scrapbook

Not only does it have very carefully pasted magazine and newspaper clippings that are very carefully labelled, the front of the book features swoopy writing and a My Little Pony puffy sticker.

Have you ever felt lacking in charm? Maybe you don’t feel beautiful? Or glamourous? Lord knows that after bailing out a smelly dead washing machine, I feel a little wilted. Well, I have the antidote for you:

charmandbeauty

Do YOU want to become the most glamourous, exciting, and charming girl in your set? Faithfully following the pointers in these books will lead to instant popularity and, needless to say, happiness. These were published in the early 60s and they are GOLD. There is an entire section answering the question as to why one should use deodorant, and another whole section on the monthly curse, although it is not titled as such. If you’ve noticed an increased interest in homemaking and grooming, you may be ready for the talk.

Well, I am pretty interested in homemaking at the moment, specifically, how to get my home to not smell like a mildewed sewer. It’s a good thing I’m going to be recipe testing this weekend for homemade vegan Baileys. I have a feeling I’m going to need it, if only to dull the pain of missing my dear, departed washer.

Say Hello To My Little Friend

Posted on by

I have had “Mairsy Doats” going through my head all morning, which has to be some kind of record for “weird earworms”. I am winning the contest, people, the contest to see who can get the weirdest thing stuck in one’s head for the longest period of time. If you don’t know “Mairsy Doats” it is a song that was commonly sang by grandmothers of my generation, and it goes like this:

Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy. A kid’ll eat ivy too. Wouldn’t you?

And repeat. But it has to be sang very quickly so the words slur together, like this:

Mairsy doats and doasy doats and little lambsy divey. A kiddly ivy too. Wouldn’t you?

In other words, I’m slowly going insane. I’m searching for something, ANYTHING to get this out of my head: the theme song from Cheers, Hey Joe, Clap for the Wolfman, and nothing is working. Nothing. I keep attempting snippets from songs, and this is what happens:

Clap for the Wolfman, he’s going to rate your record high. Clap for the Wolfman, you won’t dig him till the day you mares eat oats and does eat oats…

I feel like Scarface, but instead of saying “Say hello to my little friend” and shooting everyone in a violent fashion, I am saying “Say goodbye to my little brain” and drinking coffee. So not at all like Scarface, I guess.

Yesterday I went to buy pumpkins for carving; I’m pretty behind on my usual fall festivities. I haven’t even put up our decorative scarecrows, and it’s only two weeks until Halloween! This is unacceptable. The scarecrows must – MUST – go up this weekend. Apparently having a freak snowstorm and then even more freakishly warm weather is great for fall colours, because the leaves that are left on the trees that are left are gorgeous. I stared at my friend’s beautiful mountain ash this morning; it’s gloriously orange with the most beautiful red berries. I took a photo but it just didn’t do it justice; you will have to trust me that the city looks gorgeous.

Back to the pumpkins; I went to the Co-Op yesterday, thinking it would be an easy trip. Pick out four cute pumpkins, boom, done. I ended up staring at the pumpkin selection for an uncomfortably long time because they were all enormous. Where are all those cute small pumpkins? Not the little tiny decorative ones; those are adorable but I need ones that are actually carveable. It’s a family tradition that we each get a pumpkin to carve so we have a family of pumpkins. A family of weird looking pumpkins, but a family nonetheless. However, at Co-Op all the pumpkins were absolutely huge. Huge is not always a good thing, guys. I could barely lift them. After staring at the pumpkins and weighing my options – huge pumpkins versus driving somewhere else to hopefully find smaller ones – I decided that laziness was a virtue and started hauling out the less-enormous pumpkins. They were all battered and weird-shaped, but I feel that this will add character. I set them all on the front step but I think their still-mammoth size is distressing to Barkley. He keeps randomly barking at the windowed front door, and when I go to look, nothing is there but the pumpkins. Poor doggie. He’s trying to protect us all from being overrun by giant orange spheres.

Last night when I was driving the kids home from karate, MC Hammer’s U Can’t Touch This came on. When I changed the channel, the boys protested. They love that song! Love it! So I turned it back and listened as they sang along. How do they know it? It’s a mystery. I clearly remember Hammerpants being a large part of the fashion scene, back in the day. All the boys in my Grade Nine class walked around in those pants, so patterned and colourful. Sadly, I’m sure this will be back in style before we know it. The other day my girlfriend’s beautiful daughter was wearing acid wash skinny jeans with combat boots, and while she looked adorable, I felt like Methuselah. It’s funny how the crazy styles of the 80s can look great on the young, but when I saw a woman my age walking down the street wearing relaxed-fit, elastic waist acid wash jeans that were clearly a vintage/ saved item from 1986, I felt sad for everything. We cannot go back there, people. We must leave the acid wash – and, probably, the Hammerpants – to today’s youth. On that note, I am going to the mall to pick up some nice blouses, slacks, and sensible shoes.

We Are Groot

Posted on by

So one week ago today we were in the thick of a snow-related apocalypse, the power off and trees down, streets treacherous and temperatures dipping below freezing. Today it’s sunny and 25 degrees Celsius, which really indicates how average temperatures are calculated in this city.

On a related note, this weekend we cleaned up the tree carnage in our front yard, and for those of you who have small children who need to be corralled and distracted and given “jobs” like “put this little stick in the bin, that’s right, just like that, good boy! Okay, now another stick.” every time you need to do yard work, take heart. My kids are actually helpful now, and the cleanup was faster by about 200%, if it was just my husband and I doing it. The giant branches needed to be taken to the back alley, where ostensibly at some point they will be picked up and chipped by the city, and the boys were eager to see who could drag the larger branch and/or the most branches through the back yard to the alley. This competition was punctuated by constant loud declarations of “I AM GROOT” each and very time they picked up a branch. Each and every time. But I am not complaining, because their competition to get all the heavy branches to showcase their immense strength meant that I could gather all the light ones, and I’m all about not lifting heavy things.

Jake’s birthday was on Monday, and so we did a bunch of celebrating this weekend. Mark gave him some Lego and a keychain of the Lego Movie good cop/ bad cop which had the added benefit of a small LED light. Jake thanked his brother profusely for such a thoughtful gift.

043

053

My husband and I gave Jake a camera, and he immediately tested it out by photographing things around the house, then making a video, which seemed to star the dog scratching his ear and then lying down. My friend Lyn suggested that with the right music, this could be an avant-garde film of sorts – crescendoing music with the PING of an xylophone. Maybe I have an artiste on my hands.

It’s been a bit of a busy week; tonight is the school’s Welcome Back Picnic, which was rescheduled from last week due to snow, followed by the first School Council/ Parent Association meeting of the year. Did I mention I’m chairing again? I am. I am chairing again. I probably need offer no further comment.

Yesterday I had some running around to do; namely a post office visit that turned epic when it became apparent that the woman helping me was brand new to the job. It took a long time, while I breathed and smiled and thought of my to-do list with increasing agitation. It’s like I have two little angels on my shoulders, one that says I am doing a civic duty by being patient so this woman can practice her skills on me, and the other that says OMFG how long have I BEEN here? In any case, it got sorted with me still smiling politely, and after that I stopped by the adjacent Walmart to pick up a few items that say a lot about me: lipgloss, cocoa butter hand cream, and wax strips.

And Walmart, usually so soul-destroying and spirit-breaking, Walmart served to lift me up where I belonged, where the eagles cry on a mountain high. Because as I entered the usually cringe-worthy store, I witnessed the cutest thing: the elderly greeter hardcore flirting with a cute elderly lady who was returning a cart from somewhere in the mall. I actually slowed my pace and pretended to look at the display of bathroom tissue and Oreos, just so I could eavesdrop. After a few minutes I went on my way, but they were still chatting. Maybe they were going to meet for a coffee and donut at the Tim Horton’s after his shift? I certainly hope so.

Three Things

Posted on by

After an entire summer of beautiful, sunny, warm weather, it is suddenly cold, dark, and rainy. There are a few red leaves on my Mayday tree, and the heat clicked on this morning. Brrr. I bit the bullet yesterday, and donned socks and ankle boots, instead of the sandals and ballet flats I’ve been wearing all summer. The boys willingly put on their fleece-lined jackets to take the dog for a walk, which is really saying something.

In the face of all this damp chill, tomorrow is my brother’s wedding, and it’s an outdoor ceremony. I have only one thing to say, and that is that outdoor weddings are for the very optimistic, especially in Alberta.

A friend of mine had posted “Three Weird Things” on her Facebook yesterday, and I was suddenly inspired to do the same. I’m going to share three strange facts about myself, and I would love it if you did the same!

1) When I was very young, I apparently thought that growing up was a metamorphic free-for-all, because I wanted to be a flower. Repeat: I wanted to be a flower when I grew up. I can remember feeling actually devastated when I realized that flowers DIE in the winter. Yes, they might be perennial, and they might self-seed, but they DIE. After this terrible realization, I amended my life goals.

2) My favourite childhood treat was Pink Elephant popcorn, which my dad would buy for me when I’d go with him to run errands. I loved those boxes of pink popcorn; pink was my favourite colour and I believe there was also a prize inside.

3) When I was sixteen, I was in a play called “Buried Child”, which was all about incest and infanticide. It was staged at my high school, which seems alarming and unbelievable. I played Shelley, and in one of the scenes I carried a prosthetic leg around. There was an awkward scene where a character shoved his hand in my mouth; thinking of the hygiene of high school boys, I shudder.

buriedchild

A photo taken from my high school yearbook – I was in rehearsal.

 

Your turn! Tell me three weird things about yourself – the weirder, the better. Can you top wanting to be a flower? xo

39 Clues…about being 39

Posted on by

Yesterday was my birthday and I turned 39. It’s the start of my last year in my thirties! Some people feel gloomy on their birthdays, but not me. I love birthdays, and also, I don’t want to be dead, which is the alternative to aging. Bring on the age, I say! One step closer to shuffleboard, slacks, plastic jewelry, and sexually harassing young male orderlies in the Home. I also think that birthdays are the day to party, caramba, fiesta, forever, and to also wear tiaras.

tiara

Thanks to my friend Rebecca and her girls for bringing it, tiara-style.

 

With the vantage point of being 39 and one day, I give you my list of 39 random thoughts about being 39.

1) I like the way “39” sounds. Not quite middle-aged, but old enough to OWN these forehead wrinkles.

2) I feel way more healthy and attractive than I did twenty years ago.

3) I’m confident enough to rock a bikini, which I didn’t do twenty years ago.

4) Still, I would like the girls to be more like they were twenty years ago, if I’m being honest. Gravity and age has been hard on my poor deflated rack.

005

Ah, youth. Remember drinking before going to the bar? It was all about economics.

 

5) This would be why I’m a Victoria Secret devotee. I need all the engineering I can get.

6) I think I have better style now than I did twenty years ago, but that might be due to the fact that twenty years ago I was wearing high waisted jeans and bodysuits.

Pirate

And puffy pirate shirts.

7) Letting my hair go more than six weeks between colours is disastrous, not only for the inch long grey roots, but because the rest of my hair resembles orange straw.

8) Every morning I check my chin for long black hairs.

9) Despite checking every morning, every once in a while I will notice a one-inch black hair under my chin that wasn’t there the day before.

10) Although the whole world drools over Don Draper, the man I find most attractive on Mad Men is Henry Francis. And also, disturbingly, Jim Cutler.

11) In a similar vein, I find Mike the most attractive man on Breaking Bad.

12) I feel disappointed in a motherly sort of way when I think of Jesse. I do not find him attractive in the least.

13) I recently referred to Chris Evans as a “very nice looking young man”.

14) It’s been 25 years since my first viewing of Say Anything, and I still kind of identify with Diane Court. I AM a show pony, after all.

15) While at the salon on Friday, getting my grey roots and orange straw hair coloured, I read People magazine and realized – not for the first time – that I don’t know any of today’s hot new celebrities. Celebrities featured in People that I did recognize: George Clooney, Jennifer Aniston, and Boo the Pomeranian.

16) I am older than Sally Albright, Mrs. Robinson, and Princess Diana when she died.

17) Of all fictional movie characters, I most identify with Sally Albright, even if I have a few years on her. This is especially true of the way I order food in restaurants. “On the side” is a very big thing for me.

18) My husband took the winter tires off my minivan and put on the fanciest rims you have ever seen on a minivan. My ride has been pimped, as they say. It’s like I’m having a midlife crisis, minivan style.

19) Because of these hot new rims, I feel like I’m going to be the bitchin-est mom at pickup. I already kind of look like this guy when I’ve got the beats going, but with a minivan.

20) Damn. It feels good to be a gangster.

21) My husband says I am the easiest person to buy gifts for, because I’m hysterically excited at just the thought of gifts.

004

Presents presents presents!

005

PRESENTS!

 

22) This was exemplified by my squealing excitement at the receipt of a dish towel from my children. But then, it was this dish towel, so that’s pretty amazing.

 

pi

Easy as Pi! There’s even a graphic of a double cone. I’m sure there are some reading this who knew me in high school, and so “Conics Goddess” may have some meaning for those readers.

 

23) Last year I received a dehydrator and this year I received a juicer, and I am absolutely thrilled to receive kitchen appliances as gifts.

003

But then, I guess I’ve always been excited about receiving kitchen appliances.

24) I am old enough to see not only fashions from my childhood back in style, but also from my teen years. I’m too old to wear them though, so I guess I will leave the bubble skirts and gladiator sandals to the young people.

25) I use terms like “young people”.

26) When I read magazines that have those “Beauty At Any Age” articles, I flip to “In Your 40’s” because the advice for “In Your 30’s” feels a bit irrelevant. I feel like my fertile years are greatly in the past (knock wood).

27) I cannot blame my children anymore if I’m tired.

28) I cannot watch movies that are sad, scary, or violent.

29) I did, however, recently watch Love Story on a plane, and was struck by my teenage resemblance to a young Ali MacGraw. It must be the eyebrows.

 alimacgraw copy

eyebrows2

29) I spend a great deal of effort plucking those eyebrows because these days, they would make me look less like Ali MacGraw and more like Martin Scorsese. See also: chin hair.

30) I can remember the song lyrics to practically every song I’ve ever heard, yet I need to write down “put out garbage” every second Monday.

31) I feel vaguely shocked when I hear of people going out at nine pm, even though I know I once did that too.

32) To me, a perfect evening sounds like watching Downton Abbey in my pajamas with a bottle of wine.

33) Only on weekends though, because I had one measly drink on Sunday night and my Monday morning yoga practice felt like I had turned into the Tin Man.

34) Speaking of which, I’ve never watched The Wizard of Oz the whole way through because it freaked me out as a child and it freaks me out now. Tornadoes, flying monkeys, general creepiness.

35) I actually said to my husband, when we were spring cleaning and getting rid of old toys, that “maybe we should keep that for our grandchildren”.

36) I don’t actually want grandchildren until my kids are 30 or so.

37) I point out pretty girls to my husband, who tells me that it is not normal to tell your husband “Look at that girl! She’s hot!”

38) I have friends who really get me, and every day I am awash in appreciation for them. You know who you are, you ladies who make me laugh and smile and think about things, you who I see daily and you who I only see a few times a year but it’s as if no time has passed, you who read my blog and you who try my recipes. I love you all! xoxo

39) Every day, I can’t believe how lucky I am. My family, my life, it all feels charmed. I’m filled with gratitude for every year and I’m excited for the years to come.

069

Lucky, lucky me!