That's why.
And man, am I using it.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Dawn of the Camera Phone
I've always sworn there was no need to have a camera in your phone. I mean, really. What's the point of a phone that takes pictures of lousy quality? Why, to have a camera at hand at all times (since I'm never without my cell phone), to snap impromptu pics of my kids and - because the quality's lousy - have small .jpg files to upload to blogger, or email to family.
That's why.
And man, am I using it.
That's why.
And man, am I using it.
Taking Shameless Advantage . . .
. . . to show off how cute they were at bathtime on an otherwise extremely challenging day:
Where We Live Now
I like it here. It's designed around families. It's green, safe, welcoming, and full of interesting things for children to do, with a minimal amount of parental involvement. (not that I'm lazy, but, ya know).
There are lots of playgrounds in the complex:
And all the roads through the complex are pedestrian, so the kids are free to run around as they please:
There are lots of playgrounds in the complex:
And all the roads through the complex are pedestrian, so the kids are free to run around as they please:
Shoot Me Now
Yeah, we're sick again. With the mother of all cold/flu viruses, this one combining sinus and bronchial congestion with a sore throat, ear trouble, and just to round it out, tummy trouble as well. The only thing worse than parenting sick kids is trying to do it when you yourself are sick.
Blech.
Blech.
Goodbye, Sweet Baby's Breath
The other night, Alec single-handedly polished off every sliver of garlic remaining in the pan after dinner. The next morning I awoke to . . . garlic breath! Coming out of my two-year-old! Sometimes being a foodie has its price . . .
Friday, May 25, 2007
Why I'm Not Writing About Law School
Because I'm not in law school yet, of course! I feel like this blog is all about the kids, but trust me that will change - once I'm doing anything that isn't all about kids.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Hair Saga
Caveat: only read this if you actually want to hear all about my hair.
You know how sometimes we make ridiculous, insane hair decisions? Well, last September I got my hair permed because a friend of mine had done so, and I loved her hair. Except, of course, that my friend is Japanese, and so has totally different hair than I do. Despite my insistance upon a loose, ringlet-style curl, using large rollers (note: I know almost nothing about hair styling, and probably was asking for something impossible), my stylist insisted that she knew what she was doing and used little tiny rollers. So, I ended up with a tight kinky wave. Almost like crimped hair. And super, super frizzy. Oh, and the first 2.5 inches of hair, from the scalp down, didn't take the curl because it was new growth after my last colour. And the stuff that *did* take the curl turned a brassy colour after the perm.
Yeah. I went through many months of carefully attempting to fix my hair every day, with mixed results. I cut my hair once in that time - I wanted to cut off most of the curl, but I knew that if my hair was short, what was left with curl would turn me into a puff-ball. I did colour a couple of times, to tone down the brassiness. By the end of it all, the last few inches of my hair was ugly and dry. Then there was the fact that the perm relaxed unevenly, meaning I had portions of stick-straight hair, lots of frizzy-but-not-curly hair, and areas of beautiful wave. Blech.
So yesterday I went and got my hair cut. It's still got a bit of wave to it, and now it's a sort of long bob, or pageboy cut. Of course, I made the dreadful error of not asking the hairdresser the price of the cut ahead of time, and so shelled out $27 for a cut I had to fix up with fingernail scissors later, at home.
So, to sum up: never, ever, ever perm your hair. Also, don't assume a haircut will be cheap just because the hairdresser works in a dive and gives shoddy haircuts. And, finally, remember that time heals all haircuts.
You know how sometimes we make ridiculous, insane hair decisions? Well, last September I got my hair permed because a friend of mine had done so, and I loved her hair. Except, of course, that my friend is Japanese, and so has totally different hair than I do. Despite my insistance upon a loose, ringlet-style curl, using large rollers (note: I know almost nothing about hair styling, and probably was asking for something impossible), my stylist insisted that she knew what she was doing and used little tiny rollers. So, I ended up with a tight kinky wave. Almost like crimped hair. And super, super frizzy. Oh, and the first 2.5 inches of hair, from the scalp down, didn't take the curl because it was new growth after my last colour. And the stuff that *did* take the curl turned a brassy colour after the perm.
Yeah. I went through many months of carefully attempting to fix my hair every day, with mixed results. I cut my hair once in that time - I wanted to cut off most of the curl, but I knew that if my hair was short, what was left with curl would turn me into a puff-ball. I did colour a couple of times, to tone down the brassiness. By the end of it all, the last few inches of my hair was ugly and dry. Then there was the fact that the perm relaxed unevenly, meaning I had portions of stick-straight hair, lots of frizzy-but-not-curly hair, and areas of beautiful wave. Blech.
So yesterday I went and got my hair cut. It's still got a bit of wave to it, and now it's a sort of long bob, or pageboy cut. Of course, I made the dreadful error of not asking the hairdresser the price of the cut ahead of time, and so shelled out $27 for a cut I had to fix up with fingernail scissors later, at home.
So, to sum up: never, ever, ever perm your hair. Also, don't assume a haircut will be cheap just because the hairdresser works in a dive and gives shoddy haircuts. And, finally, remember that time heals all haircuts.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Don't Even Think It . . .
. . . should be the catchphrase of every parent. For instance, last night after a long day of playing, eating out, and little napping, I thought, "well, they'll drop like flies tonight!"
Never, ever think that. Not even deep down in the secret recesses of your heart. Bedtime last night was a whole lot of fighting, crying, yelling (on their parts, not ours), and general nastiness, that left us staring glassy-eyed at the wall once it was over.
Never, ever think that. Not even deep down in the secret recesses of your heart. Bedtime last night was a whole lot of fighting, crying, yelling (on their parts, not ours), and general nastiness, that left us staring glassy-eyed at the wall once it was over.
OCD, or just normal preschoolers?
Alec can't handle broken food. As in, heaven help you if you break a granola bar in half. This morning he tore his toast, and insisted that I repair it before he could continue eating.
Joffre has to close every open gate we encounter while out walking. Last night at the restaurant, he went around to every unoccupied table, pushing in the chairs so they were even. It's like living with a pint-sized Monk, with less crime-solving.
Joffre has to close every open gate we encounter while out walking. Last night at the restaurant, he went around to every unoccupied table, pushing in the chairs so they were even. It's like living with a pint-sized Monk, with less crime-solving.
Food, Glorious Food
We went out, with the kids, to celebrate our eighth anniversary last night. We went to the Chinese restaurant in the University Village, and had peking duck. They loved it. Every time Joffre took a bite of lettuce wrap, his eyes rolled back in his head in delight. Alec was dipping duck fat in hoisin sauce like a trooper. Joffre insisted on raw green onion in his mushu pancakes.
I'm so glad they're foodies!
I'm so glad they're foodies!
This Can't Have Happened . . .
Last night Alec kept pointing at his sippy cup and saying something unintelligible. I looked at the cartoon picture on the cup and said, "si! Es un leon!" To which he replied, "no es leon, es diboo-hoh!" I said, "es dibujo?" "Siiii!"
Translated, the conversation went like this: "yes! That's a lion!" "No a lion, a drawing!" "A drawing?" "Yeeees!"
My two-year-old didn't just tell me a cartoon lion was not a lion, but a drawing . . . did he??
Translated, the conversation went like this: "yes! That's a lion!" "No a lion, a drawing!" "A drawing?" "Yeeees!"
My two-year-old didn't just tell me a cartoon lion was not a lion, but a drawing . . . did he??
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Mondays Suck
I know, it's Tuesday, but yesterday was a holiday so it counts as a Monday. And preschoolers don't understand about Mondays. By the time the weekend is over, they've forgotten that Daddy ever had a job, so they wake up begging for Daddy and furiously betrayed when they find that he is gone. And it just goes downhill rapidly from there.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
What the Kids are Like
I don't know, somehow I feel like giving a little profile, a little sketch of each of the children . . .
Joffre, age 4
Has a seemingly limitless need for cuddles and affection.
Tends to be distracted almost as a default condition.
Tunes out the rest of the world at the drop of a hat.
Loves mazes, puzzles, numbers, and maps.
Can do basic addition and subtraction, and independently began exploring multiplication ("Mom, how much is three eights?")
Asks existential questions, like "Mom, are we real?"
Speaks to Alec almost exclusively in Spanish.
Alec, age 2
Loves to sing, putting wild dynamics into his songs.
Scolds and lectures in babble.
Loves to draw.
Has a huge vocabulary in English and in Spanish.
Lately begins every sentence with "maybe, quizas."
Asks "why?" all the time.
Tends to bite unexpectedly.
Flirts impishly when trying to get away with murder.
Like any kids, they could probably live on waffles, cereal, and hot dogs, but unlike most kids they're game to eat almost anything. Joffre still won't eat fruit, and Alec doesn't like raw vegetables, but they are both addicted to olives, sushi, dim sum, fried onions, and every kind of sauce, dressing, or topping available.
Joffre, age 4
Has a seemingly limitless need for cuddles and affection.
Tends to be distracted almost as a default condition.
Tunes out the rest of the world at the drop of a hat.
Loves mazes, puzzles, numbers, and maps.
Can do basic addition and subtraction, and independently began exploring multiplication ("Mom, how much is three eights?")
Asks existential questions, like "Mom, are we real?"
Speaks to Alec almost exclusively in Spanish.
Alec, age 2
Loves to sing, putting wild dynamics into his songs.
Scolds and lectures in babble.
Loves to draw.
Has a huge vocabulary in English and in Spanish.
Lately begins every sentence with "maybe, quizas."
Asks "why?" all the time.
Tends to bite unexpectedly.
Flirts impishly when trying to get away with murder.
Like any kids, they could probably live on waffles, cereal, and hot dogs, but unlike most kids they're game to eat almost anything. Joffre still won't eat fruit, and Alec doesn't like raw vegetables, but they are both addicted to olives, sushi, dim sum, fried onions, and every kind of sauce, dressing, or topping available.
Today's Moment of White-Hot Pride
Joffre can read!! Well, not really. But there I was, reading my book, and he leaned in over my shoulder and said, "Mom, I can see two 'ofs' in your book." And, sure enough, the word 'of' appeared twice on the page! Then he spotted 'up' as well. So, maybe I should redouble my efforts to teach him to read.
He has also taken to telling his younger brother little stories he makes up, which is pretty sweet.
He has also taken to telling his younger brother little stories he makes up, which is pretty sweet.
Back on the Wet Coast
Well, we got here Monday. I have a cold, so as the plane landed in Vancouver, my ability to hear dwindled to almost nothing. It's getting better, but still not good. Several weeks - months? - of exhaustion fell on my head as soon as stepped through the door of my new, permanent home (well, as permanent as makes no nevermind), and I'm just now beginning to emerge from under that, as well.
I love the apartment. It's really a two-storey house, with a decent kitchen, small dining room, big living room, 1.5 baths, and 3 good-sized bedrooms. Storage is reasonable, especially because we have a large storage room immediately adjacent to our door. We also have a nice patio that looks out onto a green space, and we inherited a barbecue from the previous residents. Once our furniture and the bulk of our possessions come from Peru and Manitoba, we will have a real grown-up home.
Of course, it was sunny for the first few days we were here, but now it is gloomy and rainy. But I don't mind. I'm taking it pretty easy for now, getting my bearings, getting the kids settled in, and looking forward to summer. The wonderful thing about how we've timed all of this is that we've gone from South American summer to Canadian spring, and now we're heading right back into summer.
Man, winter's going to be a blow.
I love the apartment. It's really a two-storey house, with a decent kitchen, small dining room, big living room, 1.5 baths, and 3 good-sized bedrooms. Storage is reasonable, especially because we have a large storage room immediately adjacent to our door. We also have a nice patio that looks out onto a green space, and we inherited a barbecue from the previous residents. Once our furniture and the bulk of our possessions come from Peru and Manitoba, we will have a real grown-up home.
Of course, it was sunny for the first few days we were here, but now it is gloomy and rainy. But I don't mind. I'm taking it pretty easy for now, getting my bearings, getting the kids settled in, and looking forward to summer. The wonderful thing about how we've timed all of this is that we've gone from South American summer to Canadian spring, and now we're heading right back into summer.
Man, winter's going to be a blow.
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