Showing posts from June, 2010

My Jello Canadians! Heh heh.

Happy Canada Day, all! Today, Canada turns 143, but it doesn't look a day over 75! Unless you live in downtown Winnipeg, in which case just smile politely and feign surprise (I kid! I kid! Love you, Winnipeg!). I didn't become a Canadian citizen until I was nearly 17, and it happened right at the end of June, so my mom's friends threw us a little barbecue where I was introduced for the first time to the popular North American phenomenon, the Jello Jiggler . And so, while all of you out there are busy associating Canada Day with things like beavers and maple trees and counting down the days until hockey starts again, may I be so bold as to add another important Canadian symbol to your repertoire: J-E-L-L-O!! Today marks 20 years of me celebrating Canada Day as a Canadian citizen. Naturally, I wanted to do something special to mark the occasion. Behold! My homage to the nation I love, and the dessert that reminds me I'm home: I love living in a country where I have the fr

So, No One Really Needs Me Then?!

Flying is a little like riding a roller coaster. Well, with (hopefully) less screaming, and a $500 charge on your credit card at the end of it. And when you get off, you find yourself magically transported to the place where your prom date threw up all over your $200 dress and everyone you knew who had a dream in life ended up working at the car plant. Very, very surreal. My 4-day relaxation vacation was lots of fun. I visited with my family, checked out an exotic new Dollarama , rocked out to Guitar Hero and accidentally abused a geriatric tabby cat. The less said about that the better, really. I forgot how hot and humid it gets down in the armpit of Ontario. I also forgot that Windsor is the only city in Canada where one of the scenic walking/running trails doesn't have a river or trees running along it for your healthy enjoyment, but instead boasts a long row of tool-and-die shops (the parking lots are impeccably groomed, though). But the lack of mosquitoes was nothing short of

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

You know when you do something that you can't undo and then immediately regret it? Well, I've done one of those things. Sort of. When the Captain returned from Afghanistan, I made the rather dramatic proclamation that I needed a break from my life, which, over the past seven months, had been worse than anything he could possibly begin to understand. Bear in mind that he was somewhere where things were exploding all the time, and where he had to take numerous medications to stave off exotic illnesses like malaria. So, as you can imagine, there was a lot of eye-rolling. But I persevered, continued to be extra theatrical about needing a break, and then went and booked myself a non-refundable 4-day trip home to see my family. By myself! So this week, for the first time ever, I am going to leave my children with their dad for more than one day. Okay, there was ONE time when I took a 48-hour "relaxation vacation". And by that, I mean that I left Firstborn at home with the

Even 6 Year-Olds are Jumping on the Bandwagon

Today I got the scare of my life. The Captain has just bought himself a new guitar, so when it arrived this morning, he got busy checking it out, while Firstborn made use of the giant box it came in. Before long, I was in front of the bathroom mirror counting grey hairs and I heard Firstborn say, to no one in particular, "Where's Doggie ? I want him in my coffin with me." WHAT?!! I came rushing out of the bathroom to find my child laying funeral-style in his new box. I stood there aghast, half of my brain trying to compute the cost of a child psychiatrist, and the other half trying to recall some sign in Firstborn's recent history that he was suicidal, homicidal or otherwise demented. Finally, I found my voice. "Buddy, get out of that box." "Why? Look, it's a coffin! I even have a pillow!" "Okay, you can't pretend to lay in a coffin. It's MORBID!" "What's morbid?" "Deathly and depressing. Now get out of the

No Cavities! But Plenty of Wrinkles, Apparently.

I had a dental appointment today, which I was approaching with about a 20/80 mix of dread and excitement. Not that I'm actually excited to see the dentist. When he takes that horrible hook and starts scraping between my front bottom teeth ( every . single . time . I don't even chew with those teeth! How are they getting so filthy?!), I cringe a little. I'm just glad he hasn't yet graduated to that screaming water contraption so many dentists prefer nowadays. That thing is like nails on a chalkboard. Anyhoo... I was excited because it meant I was driving into Booming Metropolis for a civilized day in the city while the Captain held the fort here for a change. I had my whole route mapped out, from Bulk Barn, to dentist, to grocery store, to Giant Tiger, to winemaking supply store. I didn't spill flour all over myself like I usually do at the Bulk Barn. I did, however, manage to slop natural peanut butter all over my hands. So when I got into the dentist's office a

Happiness is an Empty Inbox

I have battled addiction and won! The chains that bound me to an unhealthy habit have been cut. I'm free! I'm free! I've deleted my Facebook account. Facebook was fun for a while, and I admit I'll miss being able to share photos with my family and close friends so easily. I will also miss that smug feeling of having the most amusing status update of all my friends. But really, these are not reasons to spend hours every day on something I know deep down is a waste of my time and brain power. Besides, I'd rather be blogging. After letting everyone know I was leaving, I made sure to get all the email addresses of people I want to stay in touch with, and publicly posted a link to my blog so any interested parties can follow me here. And now that I'm off, I couldn't be happier. As it turns out, I don't really care how my buddies, family members, casual acquaintances and people who only added me because they needed a 700th friend are doing in Farmville or Fami