Know When to Fold ‘Em

Posted on 12/10/2010 by cheesefairy

Reverb day 10 Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?(author: Susannah Conway)

All I can think about is the day, this summer, that Saint Aardvark and I were driving across the prairies for home, with a car full of cranky and a trunk full of carefully selected and barely used camping equipment, and several reservations at campsites we weren’t going to be able to get to without driving 8 hours a day.

The children were sleeping or watching Baby Einstein on the portable DVD player and SA and I were talking about whether we should make ourselves miserable driving so we could get to the campsites for our reservations, and then possibly make ourselves miserable camping, as well, but hey, at least we’d be spending what we budgeted?

…or whether we should stay in motels and cancel all our camping reservations and take our unused tent back to Canadian Tire for a full refund, which would, after all, pay for one of the motel nights.

Yes, I really think that was the best decision I made all year. It was hard to give up on my dream to be a camping family, on my wish to spend two nights in Dinosaur Provincial Park, on my carefully laid plans and reservations and all those hours spent scanning the provincial park websites for the very best spot, not too near the river, not too close to the snakes’ dens.

But sanity, at some point, must prevail. And making the sane decision, the one that will help the most people be happiest, is what I call wisdom ’round these parts.

(I don’t take all the credit for this. SA is my sounding board, and I am his. We engage each other in “sanity checks” all the time.)

Runner up: joining the writers group in January, but I’ve gone on about that enough.

Worst decision of the year? Might have been choosing to eat at the cowboy restaurant in Medicine Hat.

Pouting post-non-cowboy dinner in Medicine Hat

Even though it had this … illustration? Artwork? outside it.

Hardcore, man. Can I get that on my van?

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Reverb10 Is Curious

Posted on 12/9/2010 by cheesefairy

Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans (author: Shauna Reid)

Oh Reverb. That’s so nice. Thanks for asking.

First there was my own birthday party in February. That one was good. I turned 36 (37? no, 35. no, 36) (after “legal to vote” it’s all a blur) on the same day that my city of birth opened the 2010 Winter Olympiad, for which that city will be paying bills for-fucking-ever-amen. To celebrate, I drank wine and watched the opening ceremonies on tv. And tweeted a lot. I call this a “rock my socks off” social gathering because I wasn’t sick on my birthday for the first time in 34 (37? 38?) years. And also, a giant sparkling polar bear rose from the floor of BC Place Stadium. How often does that happen in a person’s lifetime!

Then there was –

um.

My younger kid turned 2 in April. I was talking to my older son, who is 4 and a quarter, the other day and he said “what did you give me for my 2nd birthday?” And I knew. I knew! I told him, in detail. But I can’t remember what I gave my younger son for his 2nd birthday, 7 months ago. I have no idea.

I mean, *he* doesn’t either, have any idea. So it’s OK. But I feel like I should remember.

In July, my older son turned 4 and we drove to Penticton to celebrate my Aunt and Uncle’s wedding anniversary. There was a party. The kind with jello salad and fruit punch in a big beveled bowl. And church coffee.

In August, in Brandon, Manitoba, I attended a dinner party with a theme, oh Jesus, what was the theme. Chicken? My brother and sister in law do what they call a “Aluminum Chef” dinner, where they invite their friends to come over for a potluck but with a theme ingredient. It’s a fantastic idea. I think it was chicken. God help me, I am so much older than 36 in my brain. Anyway, it was delicious. No, it couldn’t have been chicken because there was a lot of pork. Molasses! That’s what it was. Damn, that was a lot of good food, and adults I didn’t know but who were lovely and it didn’t even thunderstorm on the backyard, for the first time in a week. At the end, the kids each got a birthday cake covered in trinkets and they lost their little minds. That was a fun party.

In November, while SA was away, I invited some friends over and we drank wine. That’s all I remember.

Two weeks ago I went to my friend’s going away party. She is moving to Toronto. I think because of the new mayor. And I went to a party and I drove myself there, so I didn’t drink much and that was good. I’m a social drinker, not a problem drinker, you see, but because I don’t socialize very much, when I drink socially I have one drink and then I have several drinks and then I think drinking until 7 am to watch the sunrise would be so awesome except I forget that I have actual SONS that will RISE at 6 am and that is not so awesome but try to tell me anything after three glasses of wine.

I still stayed out too late, but in the morning I just felt tired, not tired and viscerally compromised. That was a fun party. There were cupcakes and little oranges and I tried Pims for the first time. Pims is Girly Gin. I know, can you get girlier than gin? Yes you can! It is spiced, fruity gin. Yummo! I also got to see a lot of people I never, ever see, all of whom I was very, very glad to see.

But I am going to see some of them again tomorrow, so maybe tomorrow will be My Party of the Year.

Except tomorrow there will be another prompt. So it won’t matter.

I guess I’ll just have to commit to more social events in 2011. More shenanigans. I would like to do that. I like the word shenanigans.

That’s it, I’m going to find a lampshade to wear. Onward!

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My Moles Are Listening To You

Posted on 12/8/2010 by cheesefairy

December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)

Sometimes you think too long about something. I read this prompt this morning and pondered it, off and on, until now. I am no closer to determining what, specifically, makes me different. Everything about me makes me different from you. We are all different from one another. We are all the same. We are all ONE! Let’s hold hands!

I have a lot of moles.

Do you have a lot of moles?

My moles make me different. They are even different from one another. Even if you HAD as many moles as me, they would be different moles. No two alike, just like snowflakes. There are big ones, little ones, hairy ones, red ones. Ones that have been burned off. Some that I am watching closely, to make sure they don’t turn into cancer. Or, so I can see they are cancer, when they eventually turn into cancer. Someone with as many moles as me, it’s kind of a given that one of them, at some time, will turn into cancer.

Fresco, age 2.5, loves my moles. I know, because he kisses them and tells them he loves them. He has one little mole on his chest. Not even really a mole, more a freckle. But it was noticeable because until I saw it, I hadn’t noticed that he had no moles, any more than I notice my own moles on a daily basis.

So I guess, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see my moles. I just see me. They are that much a part of me. But I wasn’t born with moles, I don’t think. I know I get some new ones every summer.

And I know from twitter that I am not the only person in the world with a chin mole that grows hair. Every few weeks someone tweets about plucking her chin hair. I don’t think this makes me especially beautiful, or unbeautiful. It is just a chin mole that grows hair. My chin hairs are white, now.

Is there a significance to my moles? The fact that they are mutant skin. Skin gone wrong, or different.

They are blemishes, in this world where Cindy Crawford became a supermodel *despite* her mole and where lesser women are airbrushed to a convenient shade, generally mole free, in magazines and on billboards. Has there been a contestant on America’s Next Top Model who is covered in moles?

In a high school math class, someone connected the moles on my arm to make an isoscoles triangle.

I once wondered if all the moles on my body grew together if I would turn mole-coloured.

Nothing deep or significant is coming from the moles.

I also have a very special nose. That’s a whole other post.

But getting back to the prompt: what do I do that lights people up?

The things I do that light up people’s lives, if I may be so bold, is: make them laugh. Hold their pain. Collect and reflect. Put my mole-covered, freaky-nosed face in their faces and say, “You’re all right. I know you are.”

Some people don’t go for that. That’s OK. For them, I have some interesting hair to look at. And I am quite tall.

I have something for everyone. That’s what makes me different. I am a space age appliance. I will chop, dice, clean your gutters and sing you a song. I will take out your garbage and bring back your mail. I will tap dance on your coffee table if I think it’s what you need. I think everyone should get what they need. I want you to tell me about it.

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Finding Your People

Posted on 12/7/2010 by cheesefairy

#reverb10 Day 7: Community. Where have you discovered community, online or
otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more
deeply connect with in 2011?(author: Cali Harris)

I found two communities this year. The Moms and The Writers.

As anyone who has become a parent knows, just having a squalling baby wrapped in a receiving blanket does not mean you are going to be super awesome blood sisters with other people just because they have squalling babies. For one thing, the other person probably thinks receiving blankets will give your baby Squishy Face Disease. For another, in your lives pre-child, your new friend might have been the girl dancing on the bar in Coyote Ugly whereas you were the one dressed in plaid flannel, shooting pool. You don’t know that until you talk to people, of course, and you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you connect with your prince. Uh, princely friends. Uh, friends who are awesome. There.

Maybe if I stopped kissing strange moms in the park I’d have more friends!

Note: I do not actually kiss strange moms in the park. Only the ones who wink at me.

This year I did meet and connect with a number of like-minded, somewhat foul-mouthed moms in my neighbourhood and it was awesome. To feel the commiseration, to share the Goldfish crackers, to have a bunch of two and three foot tall kiddos bobbing by and knowing that everyone was watching everyone else’s kid – it was all very Village-Like. No mother is an island / no mother stands alone / each mother’s joy is joy to me / each mother’s grief is my own. We sang that a lot and then we meditated. No, not really.

All of those women, though, are women I met online first, through this blog. The online parenting community is vast and a little maddening at times, and prone to Extreme Drama, but because it’s in your computer, you can select for your own comfort level. You can go through thousands of blogs and twitterers and find your people. And then, if your people live two blocks away from you, go for donuts and beer.

And if your people live farther than two blocks from you, you wait patiently for them to move closer. And sometimes they do!

I like to meet real, live people, too. Don’t get me wrong. But I have a limited ability to make small talk. Some people are really good at small talk but I think I kind of suck at it. Unless the person I’m talking to is at a bus stop, alcohol-soaked, and talking about how the government is going to make perogies of our brains by injecting us with alien fluid. That person I can talk to for hours.

So, the Internet has been good for me. I have said this before. I am saying it again. The Internet: Good for People Like Me.

And: the writers. I joined a local writers group last January. (I found out about the group on the Internet. Just saying.) They are tangible people but they function like an online community in that they are specific to my needs. Only a couple of them are people I would hang out with In Real Life; the rest I just don’t have a lot in common with. Other than writing. With writing – even though our group is very diverse, style-wise – we have the same needs; to be read, to be offered criticism and praise, to offer our own criticism and praise, to have our ideas and our babies displayed in a safe space, kissed and cooed over, slapped and sent home for more revision.

Even though I haven’t been to a group meeting in over a month, I put in almost a year of regular attendance and that feels good. I feel like I contributed as much as I received and like I have built relationships that are important. I don’t think anyone will have forgotten me by the time I go back.

***

For 2011, I am feeling the itch to learn again, to take a class, to explore parts of me I haven’t. I feel drawn to movement, and to that blissful rush that comes from physical exertion. This time of year is always a lazy one for me. I would love some people to run with. Some non-lululemon’d yoga people. And then, this will be a working year for me. At some point this year I will have to start making some money. I hope I can do that in a way that fosters community. I hope I can find something, or some way of doing, that feeds more than my bank account.

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Make

Posted on 12/6/2010 by cheesefairy

These #reverb10 prompts are starting to make me feel like a Yo Gabba Gabba episode. You know what I mean.

What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it? (author: Gretchen Rubin)

The last thing I made was shortbread. In fact, it is still cooking. When it is done cooking I am going to sprinkle Skor bits on top and I am hopeful that this will be the most fucking delicious thing ever consumed. The other day I wrote about shortbread on my facebook page and my cousin said, “with Skor bits on top?” and I was all, what? What what? Then I was at Superstore today getting groceries and while Fresco was busy taking off his socks to check for dirt between his toes, I saw that in fact there are packets of Skor bits in the baking isle! WHAT WHAT! So I bought some. I don’t know how much they cost, maybe it was $20, I don’t care, toffee is awesome.

So for the shortbread, I used:

1 cup of butter
1 cup of flour
1 cup of cornstarch
half a cup of icing sugar
pinch of salt
sploosh of vanilla

I am baking it for 25 minutes at 325 degrees.

Is there anything I would make if I had the time?

I would knit my own socks. I don’t know how to knit and I know from the people around me that it is a rather consuming hobby and potentially pricey as well but since we’re wishing. Socks.

Mostly what I make is food. And sweet love. And gin and tonics.

But you should go read Jen’s entry because she makes, like, LOTS of things and then go read Arwen’s because she made a skipping song!

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