My girls...

and I'm not talking about Grace and Edie. I'm talking about the ladies who make my life a little fuller. The ladies I'm lucky enough to have as friends.

Work has been crazy busy lately, leaving little time or brain capacity to think of much else. I have wonderful women who have ushered cheques to soccer registration for me, signed up and taken care of BBQ fees for the Sparks graduation ceremony, and my sister has been amazing with her arranging and ushering the kids to swim lessons.
I have a new-ish group of gals who have been nice enough to invite me to an all girls' cottage weekend, one of them even kicking in her car so I can come and go on my own schedule. I have my bestie in Calgary, who while I was conferencing, would usher me back to her house each night to make me dinner, watch Rock of Love with me, and most importantly, laugh her ass off with me (her poor, poor husband). I have another dear old friend who recently breezed into town from the West who said she loved me and missed me and who always makes me smile and feel good about myself and leaves flowers on my doorstep. I have another wonderfully special friend from another country, who has found someone to care for her three kids so she can come and visit me for 3 days in June, simply because we haven't "talked" in way too long. I have my monthly Wine and Whine girls who, whether one shows up or all 14, always make me giggle and make me look forward to the next night we can all get together. I have my movie friend, though not a girl, but he always wants to see the same movie I want to see and laughs at my jokes and snaps pictures of dresses in store windows that he thinks I might like. I also have my blogging buddies who I feel strangely connected with, even though I have only met them one time (if at all).

Without these friends my life would not be as full as it is. I'm grateful for them all.

Meanie’s me-me


I don’t guarantee these to be very interesting facts, and I hesitate to get toooo personal on this blog, but here are the 7 facts I came up with once tagged by Jobthingy for this me-me:


1) I hate wind. Hate it with a passion. Don’t care if helps plants cross-polinate. It makes me cold, blows my hair into my lip gloss and just makes me miserable in general. I literally get anxiety when I walk outside and feel gusts of wind.

2) I am obsessed with skincare. I suspect I have a mild form of post-traumatic stress disorder, stemming from the agony of an acne-ridden adolescence. Thank the pharmaceutical Gods for Accutane.

3) I have been thinking about my next tattoo for about three years now. My one and only tattoo is of Skelli, the “mascot” of Social Distortion. I couldn’t very well get Mike Ness tattooed on me, could I?





4) I lied. I have another tattoo. A really bad, homemade tattoo of the letter B on top of my left arm. Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.

5) I have an amazing vinyl collection that I can’t wait to dedicate more time to once I have more, well, time. And by dedicate time I mean be a total and complete geek by alphabetizing, ranking, polishing, buying plastic sleeves for and adding to the collection.

6) Everytime I see something in the garden bloom that I planted I am filled with such satisfaction. I get more satisfaction out of seeing one of "my" tulips in it's prime than I do after completing a challenging task at work.

7) I love that Jo and I share a similar sense of humour, and I can see Grace developing a similar one too (though biting sarcasm isn’t any easier to take from a 7 year old). Edie has developed a wicked party laugh to make us all feel funny.



I’m supposed to tag, but 8) I can also be lazy. So, go for it if you want!

**thanks Jobthingy for caring!**

I am heading out of town soon for 5 days for work. This is the longest I’ve been away from home and its contents (Jo, Grace and Edie). If everyday of your life has been ritualized to the most mundane detail, this kind of trip is a pretty big deal. I joke about the getaway, 4 nights in a nice hotel, meals made for me, trips to the gym, a t.v. to myself but when it comes right down to it I’m freaking out a little because home is what I strive for from the moment I wake up everyday. I eagerly anticipate hopping off the loser cruiser (OC Transpo yo) and getting the car to pick up the kids.

First up is Grace. I hold back a little before I let her see me. She is always engaged in some intense activity with a friend or two. It usually involves tunneling to China or creating highly important, HIGHLY secretive codes for some vital work they are involved in. When she spots me though she usually comes running and spills her news of the day for a few minutes and then gazes out the car window, deep in thought all the way to Edie’s day care. When we collect Edie she is almost always surrounded by friends, with her shoes on the wrong feet, a smudge of dirt on her face and a ponytail gone bad. As soon as she spots Grace she lights up, abandons the game she’s been in and jumps in my arms. The car ride home is the one unpredictable part of the routine – they either fight the whole time or Grace reads to Edie all the way home. I never know how it’s going to go.

Once home, Grace tackles homework, as does Edie (yes, in her world colouring constitutes academia), while I try to create a meal for dinner, all the while berating myself for not throwing something in the slow cooker the night before.

I love the chaos of our dinner table (just because I’m on the verge of yelling doesn’t mean I don’t love it). Jo and I try to eek out a sentence or two to each other while coaxing kids to eat and being an audience to their stories.

I love the walks after dinner. The walks aren’t exactly vigorous, as Edie gets equally excited for any bird/worm/bug sighting, and has a small soliloquy for each event; and Grace, never one to run a straight line, insists on making an obstacle course out of everything to add a challenge.

Bedtime shenanigans I don’t love so much, but when we get to book time, the feeling of their spirited little bodies slowly, slowly starting relax, also help to relax me. And finally, the best part, the love fest of goodnight, with a million I love you’s and passionate hugs.

So yeah, five days without this kind of routine in my life is going to be strange. But, to counter the separation anxiety I’m bound to feel is the fact that I’m staying in the city where my best friend in whole wide world who loves Pee Wee Herman as much I do lives. This makes me a little giddy.

What a drag it is getting older….

Pedicure season, open-toed shoes, girly-dresses and skirts, fun coloured nail polishes. I look forward to all these things every year when the weather turns to a more civilized temperature.

Looking forward to a warm-ish weekend, booked babysitter and a night-out, I picked my super-fun gold nail polish, sat on the couch, dipped the brush in the bottle, twice for good measure, and brought my foot up on the coffee table for the first foot makeover of the season.

Wha? Well hello there big toe, you look a little different. What’s this you have here? A little toupée? How quaint. Really big toe? Was winter so cold that you had to sprout a few hairs to keep warm? Were you attempting a teeny-tiny disguise to play a trick on me? C’mon, I can handle armpits, legs and bikini area, I’ve got a routine down now that’s pretty efficient. But nowhere have I factored in the Big Toe. That’s just wrong.

Blech. What else do I have to look forward to as I get older? No, don’t tell me. This was traumatic enough.