Archive | June 2014

Riding solo

Boo has been in bike camp all week – and yay, he has learned to ride a bike!  It’s a bit weird that he’s in such a program at all.  When I was growing up, your dad taught you to ride a bike on the weekend.  End of story, who is the hell would pay someone to teach your kid that?!  Also, I’m pretty sure I didn’t learn to ride a 2 wheeler until I was much older, like 8 or 9.  Yet, that’s what a lot of people do around here when their kid hits 3 or 4.  And hubby has been going on about it for a year or so and so finally with the purchase of a new bike this spring, that was the plan.  And then he asked me to video it.  Well, when I saw my baby take flight, “Push me, mama, just push me!”, I had to choke back the tears!  I just watched him, my heart bursting with pride.  I did not take a video.  I just wanted to watch him without a lens between him and I.  I tried to video him later, but apparently I did not hit the button until the end and so ended up with 8 minutes of footage of my back pocket and me cheering on the other kids. He cycled back to the car (with me running behind him) and told me that in his heart, he knew he could do it.   Later that day, we took Dad to the local school field and showed him in person.  (Even then we drove 2 blocks cause we live on a hill and there’s no way in hell we’re going to let him solo and then push him back up hill.  Boo still has to be on his tiptoes to hold his bike up.)  Hubby got a tear in his eye, too!  I wish we had just taken the time to teach him ourselves. 

I have noticed since becoming a parent that there is an insane pressure to just enroll them in courses to keep them busy. Maybe it’s because I came from a poor background, but I did diddley squat growing up.  I was not in Brownies or Girl Guides or gymnastics or dance.  I was lucky to get weekly piano lessons from an old (probable) pedophile in a community centre for 6 years off and on.   I went to music camp once for a week when I was 11.  I even remember my mum begging my dad for the money to go. That was it.  (It’s where I found out white people ate cold cereal for breakfast.) Those were the only extra-curricular activities they could afford.

Of course, we all want better for our kids so I’m right up there with credit card in hand, buying myself 2 hours of freedom at a time.  With an only child, it’s on me to keep in entertained and engaged.  And you know what?  I can’t always do it.  I get pushed to the brink sometimes when I can’t even take a shower or go to the bathroom without someone banging on the door or screaming for something.  There were days when getting dressed without someone giggling and trying to poke my vagina were few and far between.   Don’t get me wrong, I’m living for kindergarten where I will have what looks like an insane amount of time to myself to do whatever I need to without the whining.

I just think that when I saw him riding away from me, I got that sense of “they grow up so fast” thing I keep hearing about.  He didn’t need me right there by his side.  He was too far away for me to come to the rescue if he should fall.  Riding away from me and all I wanted to do was keep him close. 

What the hell is wrong with me?

That’s what friends are for

Well compared to last year, this year`s birthday was a little underwhelming.  The day progressed as any other day would.  My friend of 40 plus years sent me flowers.  Yay!  Oh, such a delight to receive flowers.  It`s just an awesome feeling.  Hubby had been texting me on and off all day about some other matter and finally I had to remind him that he hadn`t wished me a happy birthday.  He has been very busy taking a course, and he was overwhelmed to say the least, so I wasn`t all that upset.  I had already lowered my expectations, so the wave of Facebook birthday greetings was going to have to do.  I had also helped out a preschool mum friend by taking her kid and so I had two crazy boys in my house and so really, the day had that feeling of WHATEVER.  Hubby came home with a huge bouquet of flowers which almost made up for the rather humdrum day.  But not quite.  I like being made a fuss over on my birthday.  My kid sang happy birthday to me and blew snot out of his nose.  Who could ask for more?  We did dash out to White Spot for dinner, hubby as usual never announces it’s my birthday to waitstaff, and for the first time ever, I couldn’t be bothered.  I’m always willing to choke down a free dessert.  But I’m on a diet, right?   I settled in for a nice, big glass of pinot grigio and fried chicken. 

My dear friend however did the most spectacular thing for me on the weekend, however.  She took me to a spa for an incredible pedicure.  Now I know she had something like that planned, she told me to meet her at her place and to bring flip flops.  I thought oh, goodie, we’re going to a local place for a pedicure.  Oh, no, we took a cab to the spa in the Georgia Hotel.  Omigod, fancy schmancy!   We waited for our estheticians with hot tea and water in the coziest chairs ever with hot neck wraps and hot towels.   We reclined in zero gravity chairs together and enjoyed waterless pedicures with ginger salt scrubs and creamed honey leg treatments.  Oh, yes, a glass of prosecco for me and handmade chocolate and turkish delight on sticks.  We blabbed and blabbed.  It was delightful!  We hung out for an eternity in the lounge reading magazines in peace and quiet.  I would have liked to lie down for a nap.  Then we finally roused ourselves (and our delightfully painted and pampered toes) and walked to a local izakaya for my favourite lemon drop martinis and half price japanese tapas.  Heaven!  We blabbed and blabbed.  Then we moved to a tea place and had mango roobois lattes and blabbed and blabbed.  Okay, we had a lot of talk to get out.  We laughed, we cried, we consoled, we encouraged one another. 

She made me feel really special when I was feeling most unspecial.  That’s a true friend.  So thanks for the beautiful flowers from one of my oldest friends that made me smile when I thought I had been forgotten and thanks to my Buddhist friend, who just knows how to lift my spirit with the touch of glamour she knows I love. 

Crazy birthday lady

So in 45 minutes, it will be my birthday. My 51st birthday!    Ta da!  I’m not in Mexico, I’m home.  I don’t have anything special planned really. I didn’t even tell Boo what tomorrow was. Hubby is on a course for the next couple of weeks.  He will be super busy in class all day and still trying to catch up on work and homework, etc.  Another career change is looming.  It’s nice to see him excited about it and I’m hoping the second half of the year will be better than the first half.  Both of us had hoped our middle years wouldn’t be as “interesting” as they have been. 

I’ve been so emotional lately.  Part of it no doubt to my wonderfully fluctuating hormone levels:  I’m still getting my period, scant, but apparent.  My PMS is BRUTAL I used to get a bit out of sorts about a week before my period and now I’m just plain crazy for 2 solid weeks.  I think I’m going to start a chart just to keep track of symptoms.   Anxiety attacks come and go, I’m super irritable, I crave salty and sweet like a madwoman and there is just no OFF button to the chattering monkeys in my head.  Luckily, chanting always works or I’d be in psych ward by now. 

When I don’t get to walk the dog and listen to music or a Buddhist podcast or something, I feel like a penned up animal.  I’m good when I can get Boo out for a playdate or just chatting with another adult so I can just stop feeling like my kid’s handmaiden.  When time allows, I go see my mum, usually with Boo, but last week, a friend took Boo for a play date and instead of going to visit her, I spent 2 solid hours trying to construct a custom photobook for Father’s Day.  And once when Boo was not with me, I went to see my mum and took her out to Starbucks and just sat with her having tea on the patio on a sunny day.  It was nice.  But hard, too, you know?  I chat with her as best as I can, but often I feel guilty cause I just want to be able to have a normal conversation with her but that is not possible and hasn’t been in a decade.  And then I feel ungrateful and selfish and I miss the days when I could go shopping with her and she could at least…..sometimes I just wish I had my old mum back. 

Boo is actually awesome.  4 is a good age.  He still believes in Santa but other than that, he  think he knows everything.  Even his letters.  Which he doesn’t.  He is quite the bugger lately with his dear mum, all oppositional for the sake of being oppositional.  And then he flips and he’s funny and charming and loving and helpful.  And then he flips again and he’s raging about something, not getting his way or dragging his heels  as slow as molasses through every request (order) I make.  We’re late for most things unless he’s motivated to go.  He’s thrilled to hang out with kids his age and I do my best to keep his active self moving.  We forgive each other a lot these days. 

I’m fighting to stay present and in the moment.  It’s a battle I lose a lot, but I keep trying.    Both Juju and I are fat.  I got on my mother in law’s scale on the weekend.  OMIGOD.  It wasn’t a surprise.  I’d been eating my way up there for months despite knowing I shouldn’t.  I just wouldn’t, couldn’t stop. I eat my emotions so as long as I can get a bag of licorice or chips, I’m all calm.   Caught myself on a show I was on recently the other day.  Mmmm.  No wonder they call me for the full figured character roles.  And though I still look super cute, I just don’t feel healthy and the day I had to chase my dog (cause she heard a skateboard) I felt like I was running with a fridge on my back.  Except I was the fridge, if you know what I mean.  So I’m on a diet.  Except for the candy I just ate.  Besides, that, I’m on a diet.  I started walking the dog on a more challenging walk when Boo is in preschool.  There are some seriously in shape seniors and middle aged people around here.  These people don’t fool around here. 

DH says we should get back into shape, the both of us.  I agreed. (Though all he has to do is mind what he eats for a week and he’s down 10 lbs. Hate him.)   He thinks we should do the PX90 or whatever it’s called.  I said sure.  Ahem, I don’t think he read the warning yet. I can’t even do 10 proper pushups! And who has 90 minutes to work out?  I don’t.  I live my life in 2 hour increments and that’s about to cease, preschool is done this week.  But instead of cramming my free time with errands, I’m going to start putting myself  on the priority list.  I have been known to walk the dog, do grocery shopping, grab a coffee and BAKE A MOTHERFUCKING CAKE in 2 hours! 

Hey, no one told me about preschool graduation ceremonies!  WTF?  Okay, it was cute.  Boo had a paper grad cap and everyone took pictures of their kid, but really.  He grudgingly shared a piece of cake with me.  Okay, okay, I got a little misty eyed, but seriously, my friend’s kid goes to a private preschool and they rented a room in a hotel and the kids had real gowns and caps and a BRUNCH! 

It’s late, I gotta go to bed.  Oh, look, it’s after midnight. Happy Birthday to me!   Would it be cheating if I had a DQ Blizzard on my birthday?