Everything is bigger in Texas

Everything is bigger in Texas and I just proved it. We were in San Antonio for 5 days and I gained 2 lbs! It seemed like all there was to eat was greasy, meaty Tex-Mex and BBQ morning, noon and night. If I had been there much longer I probably would have died of Scurvy from lack of fruits and vegetables. No wonder San Antonio is considered one of the fattest cities in America!

Now that I'm back (a day later than planned because of bad weather in Chicago) I'm officially on a detox regime.

This morning I went for a fitness assessment and boy was that ever an eye opener. I've really let myself go since the little guy came into the picture. I'm definitely on the chubby side from what I should be, and a little out of shape. My personal trainer is developing a training plan for me that will whip me into shape in the next 6 weeks. He warned me that it wasn't going to be easy -- he's a bit of a drill Sargent. I say bring it on!!! It couldn't be worse than labour.

On the plus size, I found out that I grew more than an inch. I'm officially 5'1" tall. My aunt grew three inches when she was in her 30s (strange but true) so I never gave up hope of breaking the 5'0 mark. It's like a dream come true.

Once I've uploaded my pics I'll give you a play by play on the underwater wedding. It was nothing short of amazing!

I'm still packing!

Does it ever end????

Tune in next Tuesday for a vacation/wedding update. Until then, I'm logging off.

Packing sucks

It's a three day process getting organized for a trip. My stuff is easy. It's packing for the little guy that is a challenge. There are so many things to remember, like his favourite teetee (blanket) and his car-shaped toothbrush. And of course you have to bring toys -- lots and lot of toys. And books. And diapers and wipes. I've been trying to calculate how many diapers he averages per day. I gave up and decided to pack lots of them. Heck, if there aren't enough, I'm pretty sure that they have drug stores in San Antonio :)

I'm packing lots and lots of clothes, knowing full well that we won't use them all. But with toddlers, there are always unexpected spills. And, in the case of my toddler, he's picky about what he wears. Really picky. So every morning we give him a choice between two or three different shirts and pants. Sometimes he ends up looking pretty goofy with mismatched shirts, pants and socks but we all have to pick our battles. I'm just happy when he decides to wear anything!

One thing I've learned from past experience is to pack lots and lots of snacks for the ride. Airplanes are boring, and eating is something to do to pass the time. Also, depending on where you are sitting on the plane, you have to wait forever to be served. And one thing my toddler isn't very good at is waiting. I think he gets that from me....So I'm going to put together a big sack of food.

After I'm finally done packing and checking off the million or so items on my to-do list, I'll definitely be ready for this vacation!

Don't drink the water!

Baby boy still hates baths. He kicks, screams, cries, begs etc...to get out of them. We've tried every trick in the book to get him excited about bath time. Nothing works.

Lately, he hasn't been bathing as often as we'd like him to. He's about as easy to get into a bathtub as a cat (need I say more!). We tend to just sponge him down with a soapy wet cloth and put off the inevitable. Until, of course, his hair gets dirty.

Today was a hair wash day. Daddy got into the bath with him, which sometimes helps to calm him down a bit. To some extent it did work. Once baby boy's hair was washed, he threw buckets of water on daddy's head. That went over well. He even smiled and laughed a bit.

After he was out of the tub and dried off, I asked him if he wanted to pee on the potty.

"No," he said. "I peed in the bath."

Boy am I glad I wasn't the one who volunteered to get in the tub with him today!

Move mommy!

"Move mommy!" the little guy yells, whenever I happen to be in the way of where he wants to go.

My standard response is, "That's not very polite. What do you say when you want someone to move out of the way?"

"'Scuse please mommy, I want that!"

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Big excitement. We tried out the real skates. They worked way better than those stupid bob skates with the nylon straps. No constant adjusting and readjusting. These babies just pulled onto his feet and then snapped shut with a ski boot-type buckle.


He looked so cute gliding along the canal with his tiny little skates and bike helmet. Out of all the kids out there, he was by far the youngest which gained him a lot of attention.

I thought he'd get tuckered out after 10 minutes. Not so. He skated for an hour straight -- no word of a lie. What shocked me even more was how quickly he got his balance on one blade. After awhile he didn't want to hold hand any more. He just let go and skated on his own, as though he'd come out of the womb wearing a pair of hockey skates.

Photos to follow soon.

Baby boy is going into French immersion

There are no ifs, ands or buts about it -- he's going into French immersion.

I did not have the advantage of a good French education when I was growing up. During those early years when I was a sponge for acquiring new languages, I attended an all English school. French classes were a part of the curriculum, but all we really did was conjugate verbs and read silly stories. I was only taught the simple verb tenses, and only the most basic skills in oral French (i.e. bonjour et au revoir).

Every day I curse my parents for not putting me into French immersion. My life would be a lot different now if they had.

Right now I'm stalled in my career. I have all of the necessary skills and experience to advance up the ladder, except I'm not "fluently" bilingual. Or, more accurately, I can read and write in French quite well, but I have trouble speaking the language.

I've been luckier than many of my western colleagues. My organization sent me for 8 months of full-time language training in 2005. In that time I went from almost square one to an intermediate level. This is something I'm really proud of. But at the same time I can't help feeling a little discouraged. I still have a long way to go to get to the language level it takes to get ahead in my line of work, and it's hard to do on a part-time basis when you are balancing a career with motherhood. My life is complicated enough right now without adding a second language!

Tonight I spent two hours doing French homework, constantly flipping back and forth from my page to the French-English dictionary. This in itself was an indication of just how much work it will take to get to the next level. One thing is for sure: once I get there I can't lose momentum because if you don't use it, you lose it.

I think that putting the little guy into French immersion will have a lot of payoffs down the road. It will also be a chance for us to learn together, because we're both going to be in it for the long haul.

Another first

For the five minutes that baby boy's bob skates actually worked, he was on cloud nine. You should have seen the grin on his face as we glided hand in hand along the canal. It was a dream come true.

The slipperiness of the ice startled him at first, and his legs went all willy nilly. When he realized that mommy and daddy were there to catch him, he relaxed. We watched in amazement at how quickly he learned to balance himself. Once he had gained his "skate legs," he immediately began asking us for a hockey stick. I guess he figured he would be an instant hockey pro. We never got the chance to find out. Those cheap, lousy bob skates came loose and wouldn't stay on his feet. After several repair jobs, one of the skates completely broke apart. The skate party was over.

This unfortunate turn of events was devastating to the little guy. He wailed and wailed as we removed the blades from his boots. The only way we could distract him from his sorrow was to buy him a beaver tail. That worked long enough for hubby and I to get a skate in of our own. Baby boy just munched on his treat as we wheeled him down the ice.

Yesterday we bought him a proper pair of ice skates at a used sports store. We'll be hitting the ice again soon to try them out.

Dirty Dancing live on stage!

When I pulled the full page ad out of the paper, I shrieked like a teen-aged girl at a rock concert. Dirty Dancing live on stage in Toronto! The ad suggested tickets were the perfect Valentine's Day gift, so I read the ad out loud to hubby (Ahhhhemmm, hint hint). He rolled his eyes. Like most guys, he would have to be dragged kicking and screaming to the theatre to see that chick show.

He will never understand why Dirty Dancing is one of my favourite movies of all time. He can't understand because he isn't a woman.

I immediately called up ES who I saw Dirty Dancing with in the movie theatre more than 20 years ago (Yikes, has it really been that long???). Unfortunately I only got her answering machine. If you're reading this, call me! After the movie we imitated Baby practicing her dance moves on the steps of the movie theatre while we waited for her dad to come pick us up.

And who can forget the soundtrack? I never did get sick of it. Not even after listening to it 2 million times in a row!

I'm so psyched about this, I'm already planning my trip to Toronto in my head. Girl trip!!

Through a baby's eyes

I wish I could see the world through my son's eyes. That way:

- doing chores would become a game, rather than a burden;

- I could fart out loud, no matter what the company, without feeling embarrassed or ashamed;

- I would never get annoyed by the loud sirens and horns as firetrucks blazed past our house at all hours of the day or night. Instead firetrucks would give me great joy and I would never once think about what horrible disaster they might be heading towards;

- I'd approach all of my day's activities with a newfound excitement. Oh how wonderful, the fourth round edits to the speech are back! I'll hop right on those!;

- Without a moment's hesitation, I'd splash in the puddles and soak myself from head to toe;

- It would take me 10 times as long to walk anywhere, because I would be distracted by all of the little things that we take for granted. The grass and the weeds, the sticks and leaves;

- I would be a much better hockey fan;

- I could invent new words;

- it would always be about me and what I want, rather than everybody else;

- I'd never have to walk more than a few feet to find something fun to do;

- winter wouldn't drag me down;

- and the world would be full of so many more possibilities!

I love the world that my son sees. I'm so glad he's sharing it with me.

The dead of winter

One of my colleagues is in labour and giving a play by play on her blog This is way better than reality television!

If only I had something that interesting to blog about today. I'm kind of in a rut. A rut that I completely blame on this long, miserable winter. Nothing is as fun in the winter. After work, instead of going to the park to play and socialize with friends, we head straight for home. Every night feels like a repeat of the night before.

I am so sick of bulky jackets, layers of clothing, and big clunky boots. Picking baby boy up from daycare takes an eternity in the winter with all of the bundling up that goes on! Oh how I miss wearing t-shirts and sandals.

Meals suck in the winter too. The fruit is never as fresh and succulent. The BBQ is buried in a foot of snow. It's an endless rotation of the same meals over and over again. No more eggs, pasta and quesadillas please! I can't wait until we can eat all of our meals outside again -- on the patio or at the park.

I try to embrace winter, I truly do. And if it were half the length, I'd probably love it. But it's too long and the days are too short.

Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to check Dani's blog again to see if there is any baby news and then curl up in front of the fire and read my book.

Texas here we come!

In a couple of weeks we'll be leaving for San Antonio for my cousin's wedding. He's getting married underwater at Sea World, and making history at the same time. This will be the first ever scuba diving wedding at that Sea World. Pretty crazy, huh? Hubby is in the wedding party. And for those who are wondering: No he doesn't have to tread water during the ceremony. His duties will all be on dry land.

Although San Antonio wasn't our ideal winter vacation destination, I think it will be fun. We'll get a break from this cold weather, and have a chance to catch up with some close friends and relatives.

The thing I'm looking forward to most is seeing the look on baby boy's face when he sees a live whale up close. He loves watching videos of whales on You Tube, and constantly asks me, "What does whale poop look like, Mommy?" Now is his chance to find out once and for all.

The last time I was in San Antonio, I was 5 months pregnant. It was July and it was stinking hot. So hot you could have fried eggs on the pavement. We spent the vast majority of our time in air conditioned comfort. Except of course for the day we drove to Corpus Christie to go for a swim in the ocean. In the car, I was so excited about the prospect of lounging in the cool water. Boy was I disappointed! The water was almost as hot as the air -- like a hot tub. And there was not a tree or a patch of shade to be found. I spent most of the afternoon sitting in a 2 foot square patch of homemade shade by propping a tarp between two cars. Baby boy didn't kick once that day, and by evening I was sick with worry. I aked him to give mommy a kick to tell her everything was okay. On cue, he gave me a big hoof in the gut.

Texas in winter is much more my style. I'm looking forward to seeing the Alamo in comfort, and to pleasant walks along the river walk. But most of all, I'm looking forward to the margaritas!

Straight from the horse's mouth

* "What's that in your nose, Daddy? Is that pooh pooh in-yare (in there)?"

* "We lost it!" (referring to the shadow that mysteriously vanished from the wall)

* "I want boots off. I want skating!" He yelled this for 20 minutes straight when we took him down to the canal to watch the skaters and the hockey players. Instead of enjoying the scene he was mad. Really really mad. To make matters worse, Daddy put on his skates. The injustice of it all!

This story does have a happy ending, however. We bought him some strap on toddler blades that we can attach to his boots. Now if only the weather would cool off so we can try them out.

* "Puddinyare" (put it in there)

* "Nissum" (this one)

* "Silly Daddy!"

* "Gotta get the wooses (worms) and the bees out" (that's what he says when we wipe his nose)

* "Mommy do that." Whenever he wants me to take something out of his hands, he says this. Usually its something gross that I don't actually want to touch. The other day, while I was half asleep in bed, he crawled up beside me and said excitedly, "Look what I found, mommy!" I put out my hand and he passed me a disgusting piece of crud he found somewhere. He was so proud of himself!

* "What kind is this?," "what kind is that?," or "what kind is that, that noise sounding?" When he handed me that crud the other day, he asked me "what kind is this?" I told him it was crud. So he went over to daddy, who was also half asleep and announced, "I found crud, Daddy!"

* "I want bowl of oranges, Mommy" has recently changed to "I want bowl of chocolate, Mommy."

* "Tigger says yuck!!! I don't want that!" And when baby boy doesn't want something he quotes his hero.

* What does Daddy say? "Raaaarrrrr!!!!" What does Mommy say? "Squeak squeak." Just once I'd like to get to be something more significant than a rodent!

* "Sam says diggidy diggidy diggidy" Luckily it doesn't come out sounding like Quagmire from Family Guy.

* "I don't feel well, Mommy. I have a stomach egg." There have been a lot of illnesses flying around his daycare lately. So far he's dodged the stomach flu (knock on wood). He does however have a really nasty cold. I keep on asking him how he's feeling, and he loves the attention. He makes himself look extra cute and pathetic and says, "I don't feel well, Mommy. I want Shreddies." I guess he believes in the old adage about feeding a cold...