Days that don't suck are a good thing.

Late last night I got an email from the little one's teacher asking if I could step in for a field trip in the morning. I knew Little L would be thrilled and so I agreed and then surprised her this morning when I told her I would be going on the trip with her class today. Of course, then I looked outside and saw the foot and a half of snow that we had to navigate through to actually get to school. I realized that the last time I was on a yellow school bus in a snow storm was sometime in late 1989 when my bus got stranded and stuck in traffic for 5 hours on our way home from school. This was going to be interesting.

And yet, despite the odds against us, the snowpocalypse, 50+ six year olds Grade One students going to see the ballet, and no time for me to get a coffee, it went remarkably well. My kid has the best teacher (I am not kidding, she is amazing and I am seriously worried that my kids are going to peak with their best teacher in Grade 1), and she had her class of 20 kids running like a well-oiled and extremely colourful snow-geared-up machine.

The ballet itself was so much fun. It was a production/adaptation of The Night Before Christmas put on by the students of Vimy Ridge Academy and I was incredibly impressed by the caliber of dance and performance that these kids have.

I watched Little L from my seat at the end of our aisle. She was the one kid who sat on the very edge of her seat, who clapped the loudest, and who noticed little details like the different costumes and different music used by the contemporary dancers versus the ballet dancers. I saw in her eyes that her love of dance is thoroughly entrenched and my life as a dance mom is all but inevitable.

After everyone had been safely bussed back to school and to a much needed "collation" (that's French for snack), I made a snap decision to go to the mall and check out Black Friday at a few of my favourite stores. It was a gamble to be sure; would I even make it there with the streets covered in snow? Would I find parking? How bad were the lines and how good were the sales?

In the end it was all worth it. I found a decent parking spot, the mall was surprisingly not as busy as I expected, and after circling Anthropologie a few times, I asked a sales person to find my lobster, the one item that I have been coveting in the catalogue for the past few months. She found it. I bought it - at 25% off too - and my day was officially made!

I am not sure what to call her yet (I am leaning towards Frida), but I do think I may be developing a little bit of a throw pillow problem...


Today was one of those days. One that defies (bad) expectations. One in which it feels like time is on your side, that there is plenty of it, and that all will be good in the world.

At least for today.


folding to the panic and chaos

Last night, everything kind of hit me all at once. Some things I can talk and write about, others I can not.

I am trying to take care of everyone and everything and starting to feel very overwhelmed.

There is just too much going on and not enough of me to go around...

My reserves are severely tapped. I feel as if I am driving an old beat up car and just filling it up $5.00 at a time and never running on a full tank.

This is not a good way to live.

I spend my days daydreaming of sleeping for a whole day (or a whole weekend). Of taking off to a far away island somewhere to stand in the sun, like some kind of mom-version of Olivia Pope. Of not having to worry about anyone or anything for just a few hours.

It just doesn't seem to be the year for that.

We are in the height of flu season, I have had a head cold for over a week that I just can't shake, and I am perpetually paranoid about passing any kind of respiratory illness to my son. I know I am going to have a giant panic attack the day he gets his next fever and while I rationally know that this is ridiculous and that he will be fine, it's not something I can get away from yet.

Yesterday, he had a follow up appointment with the audiologist. It's an almost 2 hour appointment and halfway into the second hour, my phone rang. It was the kid's school. They were sending my daughter to the office and asking me to come pick her up because she had a fever and a tummy ache.

I froze. I didn't know what to do. I was on the other side of town, finding out that my son's hearing is not improving and may, for some reason, be getting worse, and my daughter was at school with a fever and a tummy ache and historically, these symptoms usually precede some kind of expelling of bodily fluids. I am fully aware that I have had far worse days than yesterday, and some quite recently, but it was just all too much. We cut the audiology appointment short and promised to follow up on another day for the debriefing part. We made it to the school within 25 minutes and I found her with a warm forehead, red cheeks, and a rumbling tummy, waiting quietly for me in the office. We all went home, changed into our pyjamas, laid out some towels on top of the bed (just in case) and had a nap.

Well, that was my plan at least. The kids "napped" for all of 15 minutes and then went off to play and demand things like snacks and Netflix access and reading of books and a bunch of other things that were not SLEEPING. And damn it, I was just so tired (and a certain someone got over her feverishness very quickly).

After dinner, The Consort and I managed to get the kids to bed early and then I planted myself in front of the TV in the living room and settled in for my version of a soothing, brainless, providing-order-when-I-feel-surrounded-by-chaos, activity: folding laundry. I sat and folded and surrounded myself with neat little piles of my family's perfectly folded wardrobes and felt a calm descend upon me.


And then I decided to watch Benjamin Button and cried all the tears.


Maybe I should just take up colouring like my friend Elan has.



BeachArt Sundays around here are usually our lazy days.

Except when they are not.

Like today, when The Consort and I go into some kind of weird deep cleaning marital pas de deux. He vacuums and does the toilets and takes care of small repairs or hanging of things that have otherwise just been resting up against the wall; while I wash the floors, change bed sheets, do all the laundry and dust all of the tiny things on the kids shelves in their rooms.

The kids kind of stand back and wonder what the heck has gotten into us, or find a channel that is playing back to back kids movies and try their best to stay out of our way. They have yet to catch this same kind of cleaning bug.

In the midst of it all though, I have to stop obsessing about washing all the water drop stains that my dog leaves on the floors every time she drinks from her bowl and sit back and be thankful for all that we have.

So I stopped. And here you go...

Today I am grateful for the following:

1. A husband that washes toilets - all 5 of them in this house! Seriously... in my books this is a major win and quite possibly one of the reasons I agreed to marry the guy. (And yes, I know, we have way too many bathrooms for a family of 4.)

2. Slow cooker meals that I can start at 10 AM, that fill my house with beautiful aromas, and that convince my mother-in-law that I am a genius in the kitchen!

3. My kids being just tall enough to give me what I think are the best, super-tight-around-the-waist, hugs a mother could ever ask for.

4. Persimmons.

5. My husband holding my hand while we watch Walking Dead, because he knows that even though the show terrifies me, I can't look away!


Grace. It is a simple thing, but still a practice. Take care of and notice the small things too.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must get out those damn spots!