Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Ok, but how's your form?

Mums and Babies' Boot camp. Yesterday afternoon at the Arboretum.

Jules spanked my butt and sent me home sweaty and hurting. Awesome!

The most motivating part?

My three-year-old, in her pink, sparkly mary-jane crocs, saying 'Mama, I'm doing it faster than you!"

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Speaking Notes Needed.

On Saturday, we Valentines will be leaving for Mrs. Maiden's house in Points North - roughly a 9-10 hour drive, depending on how the kids do. We're heading up for our customary first week of August at the Maidens', only this time, it will also include Mr. Maiden's memorial.

Which is being held this much later than his actual death because he wanted us to be able to plan ahead and get the cheapest airfare.

Bigbother and Littlesister and Brotherinlaw are coming in as well (from Arizona and Ireland respectively) - so it will be a full house of Maidens. The last time we were all together was at Bigbrother's second wedding when MlleL was 9 months old - the same age MasterP is now.

So that will be good. Sad, but good.

I have to think of what to say - if there is going to be addresses made, I guess I'll have to make one. (true to Mrs. Maiden form, all details have been left to be ironed out once we arrive. The date is what we know so far.)

Here's the thing, though. Mr. Maiden's little sister is driving up from Ohio for the event, and as she has indicated in email to Mrs. Maiden, will stay a few days to 'talk'. I do not know what to say.

When Grandma Maiden died, I was in grade 10, so I must have been about 14. Grandma Maiden made Mr. Maiden's siblings the executors, but left a lot of the detail out of the will. In addition, it seems she had promised the same pieces of furniture and belongings to several different people over the years. Which made for some conflict. Quite a bit of conflict, actually, in the days leading up to the funeral. Agreements were made for us all to return to the house they grew up in one last time after the funeral for final discussions before returning home.

When we returned to the house, again, right. after. the. funeral, the locks had been changed. Now. I'm sure you expect me to say that the funeral was the last time I saw Aunt Maiden, but that is not the case. After heading down to the centre of small town Ohio and retaining his high-school-now-lawyer buddy, Mr. Maiden headed north on the interstate. Which is where, as fate would have it, we overtook Aunt M in her grey minivan with my cousin riding shotgun (her niece from Uncle Maiden). THAT was the last time I saw both of them. Any of them.

So. Miss Maiden actually called Mr. Maiden a few years back, and they were talking and emailing, and they (Uncle and Aunt Maiden) came for a very short visit as well. In fact, when we were in Arizona at the hospital, Uncle Maiden called to say goodbye. So there had been a rapprochement.

So she's coming. Bigbrother must have found some zen in the Navy, cause' he's the guy who sees good in everyone. I'm not sure he's got beef with anyone. I can't remember him talking smack about anyone; ok, I can think of one instance, but when your wife leaves you for your friend, I think smack is the least of what one should be talking.

So he'll be his usual self - which means, he'll be a talking, talking, talking fiend. (seriously. Think I'm a talker? I'm the quietest in the family. By far. Confirmed by Mrs. Maiden this past week.)

Littlesister is pretty much going to follow suit. Don't get me wrong, that girl will talk smack. (But you'll love it). Overall, though, she's not a holder of grudges. I am the grudge holder.

I do not know what to say to the adult in my life who chose stuff over a relationship with me. The grownup part of me acknowledges that 22 years of life lost is enough punishment, but the 14-year-old still wants to do what I wanted to do at the moment we passed that minivan.

That time, Bigbrother and Littlesister sat on my hands so I couldn't flip her off.

This time, I think I'm on my own.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

how many degrees is that?

When you move to Ottawa, they will tell you that it is a small town masquerading as a capital. Here's my story:

Last night, I had the fabulous pleasure of attending a work colleague's wedding, at the Blessed Sacrament and the Chateau Laurier. SO fabulous. SO beautiful. Amazing time had.

The bride, C. worked in the same division as me, but not in the same unit. Soon after her engagement, we were talking around the lunch table about wedding planning when she looked at me and said, "I think you know my fiance." "Really?" I said. "Yeah," she said. "When I mentioned you, he said you mean Katie Valentine and showed me a picture he had of you." So then he really must know me. Interesting. But HOW?

Turns out, Mrs. Valentine is the groom's godmother - the groom is the son of close friends of the family. Friends we know well. This relationship - that of Husband to groom, J, is referred to in our house as 'God-brother'.

God-brothers, here, are roughly equivalent to cousins. They're definitely extended family. So I was really excited to have C. joining part of the extended family. Everyone needs more cousins - that's how I look at it.

So I was invited as one of the younger Mrs.' Valentine, but with the additional connection of having known C. from work.

As I was sitting enjoying a wonderful dinner, (thinking up and singing all of the bad love songs Husband and I could use to make C. and J. kiss - umm, Tainted Love! Silly Love Songs! (or whatever the title of that is) Bad Medicine!) I was watching an older very well dressed couple singing - a couple I had been watching throughout the ceremony and the evening trying to figure out why the gentleman particularly, with his white hair and wide, happy smile looked so familiar and familial. Discreet inquiry of the groom's mother led me to this conclusion:

I was looking at C.'s Uncle A., who just happened also to be my mother's beloved god-brother. With whom, after the war, my grandparents lived before their first house was built in the Westboro area and when Mrs. Maiden was a toddler.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

yaaaawn.

I've got no funny things to say today.

Instead, I will offer a description of last night for your enjoyment. (or not.)

7:30 PM - After very successful dinner out due to Husband's absence on another motorcycle buying mission, I put a very, very sleepy MasterP down for the night.

10:30 PM - MasterP has woken himself up by trying to crawl into the corner of the crib. I'm able to reposition him in sleeping mode, and he goes back to sleep.

11:30 PM - repeat above.

1:30 AM - Having done the same, MasterP is angry because I have taken longer to get to him. (Probably because I was dead asleep.)

1:40 AM - MasterP will not succumb to my back rubbing and lullaby singing.

1:50 AM - He is still very tired, but still no sleep, and yells when I try to leave him to return to my own bed. I give in and nurse him (he is not hungry, but maybe I can sleep soon?)

2:00 AM - MasterP is back in bed and so am I.

3:30 AM - MasterP awakens again. I am able to reposition him and return to bed quickly.

3:34 AM - Husband comes to bed having returned from mission, installed new cycle in basement (so very recently vacated by the First Wife), and settled down from 12+ hour drive and countless, countless coffees.

4:30 AM - MasterP awakens. Yeah, doing what you think he might have been. At the end of my patience, I pat him, and sing to him, and kiss him, and return to bed despite the protest screaming. (It must be explained here, that as mentioned previously, MasterP shares our bedroom.)

4:35 AM - still screaming. Only now that he is a little more mobile, he is standing on his knees to watch us while he screams. I advise unmoving but clearly awake Husband that he should probably go sleep on the couch. Husband continues inactivity.

4:45 AM - more of same, but I think MasterP is tiring.

5:00 AM - Husband gives up and carries screaming boy downstairs to watch 'In the Night Garden' and sleep together on the couch.

7:10 AM - MlleL appears at the bedside to say "Mama - time to get up."

Blessedly, Mrs. Maiden is still in town, and entertained MasterP so that I could get a few more hours of sleep this morning.

Today, I bought chamomile (for him) and lowered the mattress in the crib (for all of us).

Monday, July 21, 2008

A new king is born...

Or at least, that's what it looked like to me, from up at the altar, as MasterP was thrown in the air at arm's length by Father Joe.

MasterP loved it and Father Joe. Kept feeling the gold brocade of his robe. Splashed his hands in holy water at Father Joe's urging. Heeee. Awesome.

Needless to say, we're exhausted. Mrs. Maiden is here, and she's exhausted too.

I'm going to take a nap. And then I'm going to try to make strollercise. No promises......

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Still kicking!

So Monday morning, at the urging of an old Hill friend, I went to Strollercise for the first time. I don't know why I felt too shy to do so before, but I was. What? I am a shy person. I just warm up fast.

We (me and the gazelles I was trying to keep up with) ran 5k of intervals with the babes - 10, 20, and 30 seconds, which, after my time in the gym, I thought doable. (we got to the usual turnaround spot, everyone slowed, and she yelled "that's ok - we're making excellent time! Keep going!!") Doable it was, but nearly killed me. And then? The core work on the lawn of the medical building. Not so doable, but didn't quite kill me. Nice try, Jules.

Tuesday? Woke with difficulty sitting up due to soreness. Would like to revise last comment to Great work, Jules!!

Today: Hair appointment all set to go for the morning - caregiver for MasterP and gift card for the spa at the ready, when we woke to continuation of MasterP's tooth fever. And so? Back to strollercise. And I think, think, think, it might have been easier today.

And also? I'm thinking about her bootcamp.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Lessons learned this weekend

1) When your Caribbean friend invites you to her wedding shower and says "well, 3ish. We're not so organized on start times" believe her. Don't get the kids up from their nap to be there only one hour late. People won't even have had time to change yet.

2) If you insist on arriving that early, it's handy to bring folks you know, even if they're only 3. Along the same line, it's also handy to have snacks for those folks.

3) Don't look at someone like you know them. (Seriously. I got to see someone dressed down for doing just that. It was awesome, and I'm not quite sure how you would do that, but just don't do it.)

4) Always, always look at a chair before you try to sit in it. Especially if you have the baby on your lap. (Dang. S - please, please tell them again that I'm soooo sorry!! MlleL told me that maybe I should sit in bigger chairs from now on.)

5) The party will be just as awesome as you think it will be!

Oh man. I only wish I could have stayed forever! Well, at least until I won one of those fab party games. I've totally got it figured out too.....

a. appetizers
b. bells
c. chalice
d. doves
e. engagement ring
f. flowers
g. garter
h. headpiece
i. ice sculpture
j. jewels
k. knee (the one he got down on, right??)
l. love
m. men (as in groomsmen)
n. not a dry eye in the place
o. ooooh - isn't she beautiful???
p. processional
q. quirky
r. recessional
s. shoes
t. tiara
u. unity candle
v. veil/vows
w. wedding dress
x. xylophone (could happen...)
y. Yes!
z. zzzzzzzzzzz.

SEE??? I'd have rocked it.

Now. Does anyone know if I should show up late to the wedding itself?

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Whew.

MasterP is the proud owner of a new tooth. Which is a big event in the Valentine household - this one has been a looooooooooooooooooooong time coming.

What is also concerning is that at the same time as the tooth - maybe as a result of the tooth? Came the fever (which is par for the course, but this was higher than expected) and the middle of the night vomiting (not so much expected). Gah.

So what's a girl to do after a night like that but go shopping? I gave MasterP the Advil, got whatever breakfast I could into him, put him in his car seat to grab whatever car nap he could, and headed out with Janey for a fabulous and, might I add successful if not a bit whiny, mid-week shopping trip for the christening dress. (Mine, not his, to be worn at HIS christening, not mine.)

How does one celebrate this achievement?

By the Bucks' of course. Where I ordered my signature decaf, soy, sugar-free cinnamon dolce latte. (forgive me. It's a breastfeeding thing with the decaf, a milkish thing with the soy, and a basic love of all sugar-free syrups.) I was standing at the counter with the rest of the patrons when the barristra called it, and the guy next to me snorted. He snorted!! at my drink!!!

I glanced over at him with what must have been my mom look, because he looked instantly mollified, said 'sorry', and resolutely ignored my glance for the rest of our visit - but I must admit to feeling just the littlest bit deflated.

What would you have done?

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Best. Question. Ever.

Heeeeeee.

Just a quickie.

Those of you who know me have heard the sordid tale of how Husband and I came home from work several years ago to find Mr. EasternEuropeanNextDoorNeighbor up our tree with a chain saw and liquor on his breath. I'm not sure if I've explained that the main reason, as far as I can tell, is so that Mrs. EENDN can continue her sunbathing (sometimes topless) late into the afternoon sun (which our tree was blocking). Now. To give you the appropriate image, I must unkindly explain that Mr. and Mrs. EENDN have two grown sons in their 20s.

Just now, as MlleL, MasterP and I were outside playing with one of the coolest toys ever, grace a Miss Vicky, Mrs. EENDN came out bikinied and ready for some bathing.

MlleL, ever ready to make conversation, looked at her in all her glory and said:

"Why you don't have your clothes on?"

Indeed.

What we talked about doing...

yesterday was the Teddy Bear Picnic at the Governor General's. What we ended up doing was putting the kids down for their nap (out of the gutter - we're done with that!) donning our work clothes, safety glasses, and rubber gloves and stripping the deck. (or the duck, as MlleL calls it.)

It needed done, but the rapidly approaching MasterP's christening is apparently creating great impetus for home repair. That, and the sun - it seems like forever since we've had full sunny weekend days.

Today's list holds: morning mass as a practice run for the aforementioned christening (note to self: Dammit is not the appropriate thing to say when hearing there's a visiting priest and realizing that the practice run is in vain; that we are no closer to being able to recognize Father or know how he does baptisms than we were at 9:30 this morning), further prep of the duck, and painting the front door.

Finally, the purple will be gone!!! (Be warned, those of you who use this as a marker to tell which house is ours!)

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Further conversations with my mother

His 'Deal with the Devil', she off-handedly referred to it, as if it were an aspect of his death that had been considered and discussed before.


It's new to me, the knowledge of that bargain, that he refused to tell anyone about the extensive bleeding so that he might visit MlleL and spend time with her that summer - the last one he was in Canada. He loved her so much, she said, he just didn't know the price he would have to pay for that.


This dual responsibility - the influence and the knowledge - is too great for her to bear alone, but it is unbidden. I did not ask for it. I carry its weight with me everywhere - it's jagged edges surprising me in unguarded moments - and hope that through constant company and scrutiny I will wear those edges down and soften it so that eventually, I might fold it up and place it carefully away at the bottom of my bag with my good luck penny collection and my worry stone.