Friday, June 29, 2007

The stupid thing is ..

I don't even particularly WANT to write a book.

I'm just tired of feeling guilty for not writing it.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Sorry, Mom

When I was going in to Grade Seven, my parents and I took a trip to the local store to buy school clothes for me for the fall. I took my selections into the dressing room. My mother stood right outside the dressing room door, and spoke in a normal voice. The conversation went like this:

Mom: How are the size 12's ? Do they fit?

Me: Shhh!!! Not so loud!!!!

Mom: but do the size 12's fit or do you need a size 14?

Me: SHHH!!!! Not so LOUD!

Mom: Well which size is fitting, the 12 or the 14?

Me: Shhhhhhhh!!!!! NOT SO LOUD!!!!

My mother lost it at this point. She stomped out of the store and went to sit in the car and wait for me, and my father, inexpicably, took my mother's side.

"You were being a bit difficult", he observed, in his mild, non-confrontational way.

"But she was being so LOUD!" I protested.

Sunday morning in church, we were singing "I will make you fishers of men" and TechnoBoy and I started doing the actions. A grabbed my arms (she couldn't reach her dad). I grinned at her and exaggerated the actions.

"This isn't BOTHERING you, is it?"

Sunday afternoon I called my Mom and apologized. Now I'm waiting for the call A will make, 34 years from now, to tell me I can feel free to do the actions to little kid action songs in church :)

Perhaps we need to clarify that one

Sunday School windup Sunday morning. Our pastor asked the children to tell everyone something they had learned in Sunday School over the past year. I was interested to hear what one small four year old girl would have to say, because she's in the class I teach.

Small Girl: I learned a song that I always forget but it's something about how you shouldn't march in trees. I don't know what kind of tree though.

Pastor: You shouldn't march in trees.

Small Girl: Because it's dangerous.

And then I figured it out.

"I may never march in the infantry" ...

Monday, June 25, 2007

Don't even think it

Don't even think "I'm so lucky. There just has not been a lot of kid puke in my life." You might get so complacent that none of the following clues you in to the natural awaiting you upstairs.

1. You walk in from a lovely evening at the theater and your husband says "WOW this house smells bad!!" (you might shrug and say "well they probably had parmesan cheese on their spaghetti")

2. The babysitter says "I'm not sure ChildP is feeling well - didn't eat much supper, and complained of a stomachache."

3. Driving back from taking the babysitter home, you think "ChildP is the one with the weak stomach."

As you open the door and the smell hits you, your thought might be "Well that certainly took a long time for me to work out!"

I'll spare you the details, except to tell you that not only is ChildP the one with the weak stomach, ChildP apparently pukes while sleeping. Based on what greeted me last night when I finally went upstairs - ChildP can apparently projectile vomit without waking up.

Drop by any time you need a reason to feel like you need a shower RIGHT NOW.

Friday, June 22, 2007

In which the dog has an Adventure

So the dog and I walked home from soccer. I think I walked 18 miles but that's only because I are a wimp. However long it was, it was long. er. than I usually walk. I always know I've had a good long walk when the dog starts heading up random driveways and looking back at me hopefully as if to say "Hey, how about we live here now? because I? am TIRED."

However, on this walk, she caught a squirrel. She pawed at it enough to make it squeak in terror, but she didn't bite it- I think she really just wanted it to play with her. It was a very young squirrel, I think, who had not yet mastered the Fine Art of Fence Climbing, because it was standing at the bottom of a wooden fence squeaking in terror while Toopka sniffed its butt. Once the squeaking started I intervened, and the dog was Not Happy with me for several minutes.

Also last night was B's last soccer game and I did not forget a snack for the entire season. And I only ranted a little bit, to people who have already heard my rant, about soccer snacks. So if there are people handing out points for conforming when no major principles or morals are being compromised, thus making conforming a non-issue, I want 2. Please.*

Also - blogging over here today as well. It might be a bit introspective, and there's no mention of squirrels. Consider yourself warned.


*because I'm greedy

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

This is not a new post, it just looks like one.

There is nothing new to report here, except that I have a laptop bag that doesn't look like my husband got it for free at TechEd 2005, and it will be perfect for my smoking hot new laptop that I will buy just as soon as I can manage to keep my hands off four paycheques in a row. I have a new mouse for my new laptop too, a Bluetooth mouse that necessitated the purchase of a Bluetooth dongle for my old laptop that I will get rid of as soon as I can manage not to pay for anything for four entire paycheques in a row. I am deriving a frightening amount of pleasure from starting conversations at work with "Have you seen my mouse dongle? It's very small." (that is actually more like stopping conversations than starting them because there is nowhere to go from there, once people give you that look and all of a sudden have work to do)

Also my back hurts and my body is annoying me by insisting on having hot flashes every time I forget the hormone replacement pills. And I had a lot of annoying wee skin tags clipped out of my armpit today, but who wants to talk about that? Also removed: one large purple mole that looked remarkably like a brain. I'm pretty sure I just paid someone to remove my entire left brain, which was for some odd reason located on my right shoulder, so the good news there is that now I have as much left brain as TechnoBoy has right brain, so we are totally a team now.

Aren't you glad you dropped by for that?

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Key Largo, June 4

Three days after Sea World, full of all kinds of awestruck wonder regarding marine mammals, we went to Dolphins Plus in Key Largo, and swam with the dolphins. All four of us, two at a time.

Again, words are such clumsy things. IT WAS SO COOL. People asked me afterwards "Were you the one screaming?" and yes, yes that was me, shrieking with delight and amazement and disbelief and feeling just really, really lucky. We had a splashing contest. We bodysurfed with dolphins pushing on the soles of our feet while we laid first on our stomachs and then on our backs in the water. We rubbed their bellies and "shook hands" and they dove to the bottom and brought us gifts and we held their dorsal fins while they pulled us through the water. At the very end, they kissed us.

It was also a bit like being an infertile childless woman being with someone else's child. At the end of each interaction, the whistle would blow, and off they would go, back to their trainer. It was clear that the bond was with the trainer, and not with these big playthings the trainers had pitched into the water. We were still on the outside looking in, but what a thrilling close up look.

My life is full of things like this - things that amaze and delight and profoundly interest me, because I married a man who asks "Why not?"

We're a lucky lucky bunch.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Sea World, Orlando

Words will diminish this, but I'll try.

The palpable bond between the killer whales and the trainers is achingly beautiful. Taking the time to forge that kind of connection - that's worship, pure and simple. And whatever else you might say about it, positive or negative, there is something infinitely right about offering a glimpse of that bond to the rest of the world.

Maybe in heaven, while the lions are lying down with the lambs, I will dance with a killer whale.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

It's a different language

I read someone else's blog recently where the writer talked about her mother yelling at her for wearing something "just because you want boys to look at you!!!" when she was 11 or 12. I remember my own mother ranting at me, when I was 11 or so, about sneaking off with the neighbour boy I spent all my spare time with to ...behave inappropriately ...because I took too long walking to the mailbox and back to mail a letter. (I dropped it and lost it and went back to find it so essentially made the trip twice) I only remembered that story recently, and for the first time in living memory, I did not slot that particular day into the "I Had a Horrible Mother" slot. (there's also an "Okay she wasn't all bad" slot, and "That was downright great of her" slot.)

I was looking through pictures from our recent vacation, at our lovely graceful daughter, and the way she and the camera love each other. She's always had an unconscious grace about her, a delicacy in the way she moves, even on the soccer field, or stretching out of a sound sleep, that makes you want to watch her. She's aware of the camera now, and she poses. Flips a switch somewhere inside her, and there are so many pictures of a poised and lovely girl. I look at these pictures and laugh a little, but there's a bit of terror there. One day I found "Stop showing off!" on the tip of my tongue but managed to hold it back because I finally realized what my mother had said that day, and what I was about to say.

You shine, baby. You're the brightest penny in the jar, and you take my breath away, and there isn't a person in the world who wouldn't notice it, the way you shine. Keep it precious, protect yourself, keep yourself whole until you grow into all this womanly loveliness that spills out of you, as naturally as breath.

"I love you" comes out in the strangest phrases.

Friday, June 08, 2007

Take that.

Last night was my night to bring snack to soccer and I remembered to.

I am such a grown-up.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

Did I forget to mention I was going out of town?

It's hardly worth mentionning now - we're almost home. Miss the dog like crazy but we're having a good time.

Walked our legs off. (was hoping to walk my ... off but it's still there)

Disney, Disney, Disney - I'm so delighted to be the Holder of the Stuff while everyone else either gets their adrenaline high or faces their fears. Oh look - a ridiculously high water ride and a bench. No, no, you guys go ahead, I'll be fine. Fine. Trust me. I'll be having a lovely conversation with Anna from Oklahoma, who seems to be Holding a Lot of Stuff. And we will discuss sibling rivalry and praise music and low carb eating and the entire time, I will be fascinated by her very straight, very even, very white teeth.

And after three days of standing in line ups to get autographs from people in Goofy suits, and three days of remarkably happy children and the Making of Memories and all that good stuff, my knee was whimpering quietly but not kicking up a fuss, and I hadn't even sunburned anything very badly, and I was so happy for my kids that they were having such a great time, but I hadn't yet been moved to tears by anything :)

And then we went to Sea World.

but that's a post for a different day because the shower, it is calling me.