Epic LOLs

This photo kills me. Oh, Ice Cube - wha happened to you? I wonder what Weezy is gonna look like in 20 years. The internet has been doling out mad gems lately - it's like Christmas came early or like finding yourself in Oscar the Grouch's trashcan for a day. There was also this:

Guys, Aunt Viv #1 is the ONLY Aunt Viv. She was the best. She was so 'ardcore and Aunt Viv #2 was a rank impostor. I kinda want a shirt that says Real Aunt Viv 4-ever with Aunt Viv #1's face on it or something. I came across a line on the internet: "Aunt Viv #1 is my patronus" - AHAHAHAHAHA!!! Truer words have never been spoken. This was the same day that the reports came out that Gaddafi had been taken out and the photos of his dead body were plastered all over the news. I avoided trading in that rank sensationalism by reveling in this kind of entertainment instead. It's healthier, I think. It's weird that Aunt Viv can engender such strong opinions in me but when it comes to Becky #1 or Becky #2, I have no strong preference. I might slightly prefer Becky #2 just because she was a bit easier on the eyes. Becky #1 had a touch of the Kimmy Gibbler.

There's also that site called Teenage Mutant Ninja Noses. Tuesday night, the Dotytron is brushing his teeth and readying for bed. Me, coming into the bathroom, remembering I had something really important to tell him: "Have you seen that person's site where he draws Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle heads on people's noses?" The Dotytron, laughing, "No. But I can see it already and it's awesome." The tagline for the site: "God is the artist. I just find the Ninja Turtle in his work" totally restores my faith in humanity. Is that weird? I just love living in a world where this kind of genius exists.

Last night we went to see the Ides of March. I liked it enough - the performances of all the actors are great, although I do agree that Ryan Gosling might have been miscast - he's a little too vacant in the eyes and it doesn't translate to portraying a seasoned veteran of the campaign trail. The subject of disillusionment and intrigue and political maneuvering can be extrapolated beyond the direct political sphere of the film and serve as a greater metaphor for becoming an adult, or surviving in the business world. Paul Giamatti and Phillip Seymour Hoffman are fantastic - Rachel Evan Wood less so and Clooney seems to just be portraying a more reserved version of himself. I found the culminating scandal on which the plot hinges a little unnecessarily lurid - it doesn't seem necessary that it should have gone so far to enable Gosling's awakening to the murkiness of the world he moves in. I found the scandalousness so amped up that it stretched credulity and brought me out of the talky, Sorkin-y world that had otherwised engrossed me. I also found some of the character's motivations (particularly Evan Rachel Wood's) kind of implausible and there was a major plot point that I didn't understand and could have easily been reconciled with access to a line of credit (which, I would assume, all these characters should have?) It does peel back the curtain on the construction of political figures and how nobody is pure and clean in the business of politics. It's not so shocking if you have any critical engagement, but this is the kind of film you appreciate for the acting and dialogue. Not necessarily deserving of the Oscar buzz it's been getting.

I'm writing this while in the SNOOZIEST class of all time. Instead f tackling a 60 page major research paper, I elected to take the course called "Topics" where you're taught how to do "research" but the paper is only supposed to be 25 pages long. The class is THE WORST! She's teaching us how to differentiate what a scholarly, peer-reviewed journal looks like !!! Worst! Sample quote: "it's rectangular...the text is very dense, the pages are printed with many lines..."

^^^ This is why I need stuff like funny .gifs of Aunt Viv #1 in my life.

Today is Supper Club Friendsgiving! I made sweet potato pecan pie. We're sleeping over in Markham and then taking the Big Yam swimming tomorrow morning.

Fin.

Guys, I totally love the GAP

It took me a long time to get to this point, but I'm ready to be out and proud about how much I love the GAP. They're kind of amazing. I just bought 2 totally work appropriate and stylish blouses and 1 silk-ish skirt (also work appropriate) for like, $45. That's better than Joe Fresh prices, folks. Buying something full price there is a chump move, but the lack of chumps is probably what's contributing to the instability of the brand. The GAP is in trouble! They're not making enough money! What am I going to do if they go under (what are the chances that they would go under?)??!!??

The stuff that makes the GAP good is also what makes them vulnerable - the insane return/exchange/refund policies (ie. my friend G told me about how she bought her kids' winter jackets in like, August, knowing that this way they could "hold" the sizes they needed, keep the tags on them and then return the jackets and buy it for the reduced sale price in a couple of months - side note: they were advised to do this by GAP staff!!!), the crazy sales, the roomy dressing rooms and knowledgeable and helpful staff. Competition from stores like H&M probably isn't helping the GAP either, but lemme tell you, I was nosing around the H&M at the Eaton Centre before class on Tuesday night and that place is rank GARBAGE. The clothes are totally uggie and so cheaply made and everything is itchy and falling apart and to put together an outfit there (exempt from the garbage classification: kid's clothes and **some** accessories) would make you look like either one of the denizens of Grey Gardens.

I guess this is a plea to save the GAP and check it out and shop there. Or, if you're not going to do that, don't buy any of the Really Skinny Pants so that I can stock up before they go kaput.

In other news: my dodgeball team WON last night!!!!! Which was kind of a big deal because we've been getting our a**es handed to us ever since the season started. We totally needed a big win and we got it - all the more commendable because we only had 6 people show up and we 6 had to iron-man it and play the whole time.

In other other news, my academic book club selected Anne of Green Gables and Little House on the Prairie for next month's reading and those books are sick. They totally hold up. This is literally my 10 billionth time reading them both and present me finds them as engrossing and engaging now as 8 year old Karl Lagerfeld did, lo so many years ago. Anne of Green Gables holds up a little more - the story is fantastic and you gotta say this about L.M. Montgomery - the b***h could write. She had a way with simile and metaphor and description that is unparalleled - especially in describing the natural world. The descriptions of Avonlea, the changing of the seasons, the way the tips of firs look against a deepening, darkening sky are so plummy and evocative and rich that you could lose yourself in them for days. So too is her way with human emotions - the passages that describe Anne's feelings of loss when her beloved Matthew Cuthbert dies in particular resonated:

Two days afterwards they carried Matthew Cuthbert over his homestead threshold and away from the fields he had tilled and the orchards he had loved and the trees he had planted; and then Avonlea settled back to its usual placidity and even at Green Gables affairs slipped into their old groove and work was done and duties fulfilled with regularity as before, although always with the aching sense of "loss in all familiar things." Anne, new to grief, thought it almost sad that it could be so--that they could go on in the old way without Matthew. She felt something like shame and remorse when she discovered that the sunrises behind the firs and the pale pink buds opening in the garden gave her the old inrush of gladness when she saw them--that Diana's visits were pleasant to her and that Diana's merry words and ways moved her to laughter and smiles--that, in brief, the beautiful world of blossom and love and friendship had lost none of its power to please her fancy and thrill her heart, that life still called to her with many insistent voices.

"It seems like disloyalty to Matthew, somehow, to find pleasure in these things now that he has gone," she said wistfully to Mrs. Allan one evening when they were together in the manse garden. "I miss him so much--all the time-- and yet, Mrs. Allan, the world and life seem very beautiful and interesting to me for all. Today Diana said something funny and I found myself laughing. I thought when it happened I could never laugh again. And it somehow seems as if I oughtn't to."

"WhenMatthew was here he liked to hear you laugh and he liked to know that you found pleasure in the pleasant things around you," said Mrs. Allan gently. "He is just away now; and he likes to know it just the same. I am sure we should not shut our hearts against the healing influences that nature offers us. But I can understand your feeling. I think we all experience the same thing. We resent the thought that anything can please us when someone we love is no longer here to share the pleasure with us, and we almost feel as if we were unfaithful to our sorrow when we find our interest in life returning to us."

I can't find a better description of the guilt I felt immediately after Poppa D died when I found myself laughing at some antic of the Big Yam's.

Little House on the Prairie isn't enticing from en English-language, literary perspective. It's more like a written trip to Pioneer Village. This could be seen as either boring OR fascinating depending on your ideological leanings (full disclosure: I LOVE romanticizing about pioneer times.) I can't believe how different a time it was - how good Laura and Mary are with so few things to entertain them - just some scraps of wool and a dried apple for a doll. As my book club friend said, "Ma and Pa are my new heroes...if only my kids did their chores unasked, just for the pleasure of seeing me smile ever so slightly." LOL! It's all about Ma giving a slight smile of approval and that meaning the world to the girls. Anyway, the book is pretty informative, if your interests lie in knowing how log houses are built or if talk about "sizzling corn cakes" "molasses" and "fried salt pork" set your taste buds a lather (full disclosure: I mainly read the Little House books for the description of the food.)

Last night for dinner we had braised pork chops and apples, braised with onions in a mixture of apple cider and beer. Served alongside roasted garlic mashed potatoes (is there a more comforting dish on a blowsy, sleety weeknight than bowl full of mashed potatoes?) and kale chips.

Tonight for dinner we had spicy grain soup and grilled cheese sandwiches with the roomie, who came over for dinner.

Fin.

Things that help

get a person through a day:

1) a slamming outfit. I'm feeling pretty good about my work outfit today. Yesterday was a mumsie Talbot's write-off. Today though...today is much, much better. I *gasp* curled my hair and decided not to go super-straight and just go with the waves. It's kind of working for me, I think. The outfit is super super super skinny black pants, a thin, dark heathered grey dress with an asymmetrical neckline, and that Value Village boy blazer that I talked about ages ago but haven't gotten rid of because I have nothing else. My mustard infinity scarf looped twice around the neck for a pop of colour. I kind of look like either Elizabeth Olsen (the lesser known of the Olsen siblings) or some other young professional working in a creative field (even though my field is not, in fact creative, I like to crib from those stylings. Should also note: even though I'm not technically all that young anymore.)

I gotta say - the Gap's Really Skinny Pants are the sickest s**t ever. First of all, you have to buy them a size down, which already makes you feel like a zillion dollars. Then, they fit like a DREAM. They're like leggings except they're pant-weight and so stretchy but not saggy and they look amazing on (I had to get mine hemmed, but whatever). Seriously. Buy a pair. They're going to be my go-to leggings replacement this winter and I might go out and buy another pair in black and maybe the flint grey as well. So best.

2) Coming home to this meal, made by the Dotytron:

Doesn't that just look delicious? Imagine coming home from a long day at work and walking into a house that smells like pancetta and clams. I got home early because I biked yesterday and I was able to basically waltz in and start eating dinner and be done eating by 6:15pm which left us with almost 2 whole hours of bath and pre-bed play time with the Big Yam. So good!

3) Liberté organic 0% Vanilla flavoured Greek yogurt. This stuff is LIFE! We tried it based on a glowing recommendation from Ehmdo. It's so creamy and rich that it's a good dessert substitute if you're counting calories (which I am. Kinda. Sorta. Diffidently.) It's kind of mousse-y? The only problem is that the vanilla flavoured variety tastes a little artificial vanilla, but the plain one tastes too much like plain yogurt, but without the extra rich tang of my ultimate favorite yogurt, Saugeen Country Dairy (which tastes so wholesome and farm-fresh and good for you, but weighs in at a whopping 4% fat.) So if you're going to buy this to store in your kitchen at work so that you don't end up going to Tim Horton's for a chocolate glazed pick-me-up, go for the vanilla flavour.

Ugh. I so don't have the mustard to face class tonight. On the plus side, I've packed myself the fixin's for a meatball sammy with fresh mozzarella. I have a feeling that's going to be cold comfort around 8pm tonight when I'm falling asleep while listening to my prof drone on about evaluability assessments.

Fin.

"Everyone but myself"

Blah blah blah, crazy weekend, blah blah blah. So busy! We're never going to try to head up to Markham for 7pm dinner plans again. I actually said we were going to get to R & R's house by 6:30pm. LAUGHABLE! We didn't get there until quarter after 7. It's too crazy - what with getting home, packing up the car, dealing with a hungry Big Yam who I think misses his mama and his nai nai a little too much. When we finally arrived, it was THE BEST! but I think we're going to scale back the ambitions for our Friday night socializing. Weekend was a busy blur. Visits with MHui and her delightful family, Bamiyan takeout on Friday night, Babu takeout on Saturday night (good news: we DIDN'T get Babu'd this time!), Baskin Robbins ice cream cake, swimming with the Big Yam, brunch with Nany and Momma D - it was a lot. A fun lot that still gave us time to do our house stuff like laundry and whatnot - but still it was a lot.

This is my apple pie with brown butter oat streusel. I wish the brown butter flavour had come through a bit more - I think I pulled the butter off the pan a little prematurely.

In other news - I'm not happy with my work outfit today but it's too late to change anything. I feel I look like a mom.

So last weekend for Thanksgiving I went and bought my mom about a half dozen pastries from Bonjour Brioche. A nice little, "just because" kind of present. Later I didn't see the bag, so I asked her about them. "What happened to the croissants and stuff?" My mom, "I hid them" Me: "Uhh...from who?' Her, without an iota of embarrassment: "From everyone but myself." LOL!!! That is SO my mom the way Raven Simone is SO Raven. It's textbook her. Then she started in with, "Last week, I went downstairs and there were cupcakes and then later I went and they were GONE!" Me: "Mom, I bought those for [my sister]'s birthday. The cupcakes were a birthday present for her." My mom: "That's not very nice. Buying cupcakes and not getting any for me." (Note: as far as I know, she didn't get my sister anything for her birthday.) Me: "Well, I still have some leftover birthday cake you can have if you want" (Note: the birthday cake I made for Master T's birthday lunch) Her, with a derisive face and a snicker, "I don't want that. I didn't like it."

Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to grow up with a mum who doesn't require you to prostrate yourself paying tribute to her and who is you know, like supportive and nurturing and stuff.

I guess I'll never know.

Ha! I love my mum, I do. She's the only one I got. She's just kinda cray sometimes. I kind of wonder what stories the Big Yam will tell of his cray mum when he gets old enough to realize that I'm certifiable.

Dinner tonight is an oldie but a goodie - linguine with clam sauce and a baby spinach salad.

Fin.

This is me now

Incidentally, if you haven't seen the movie, Working Girl, you should. It's kind of the best. So entertaining! And the Carly Simon theme song is feminist empowerment defined. Why don't they show this stuff on a lazy Sunday on TV anymore? Why is it always a movie that you don't want to watch, like Paul Blart: Mall Cop (which, incidentally, I caught the Dotytron watching on Sunday before I convinced him to switch to the latest version of Jane Eyre) or Goonies for the zillionth time?

Speaking of Jane Eyre, the newest version, starring my future husband, Michael Fassbender (after the Dotytron grants me my long-wished-for divorce), is kinda snoozeville. Mia Wasikowska is suitably girlish and somewhat plain and does a good job being very reserved and still and yet hinting at the depths of passion that stir just beneath her milky countenance, but overall I found the film kind of rushes through the events that make Jane, Jane. It also rushes through the events that make Jane and Rochester, Jane and Rochester. I didn't really buy the love stuff between them. In the book it takes AGES and each exchange builds upon the last until you're nearly swooning with anticipation that they just hook the hell up already. Michael Fassbender is a little too handsome and not quite gruff enough to be Rochester - he's a little slight in the build and a little too fair to be so gloomy and brooding but I have a soft spot for him so I'm willing to overlook it.

The film is gorgeous - really lush and painterly and filled with absolutely sublime shots of the English countryside in all its' woodsy, heathered, stony glory. I loved the look of it, but the story fell short, for me. That could very well be because I've never been a HUGE Jane Eyre fan. I always read up until the point where she discovers the crazy woman in the attic and runs away and then I get bored. I especially hate the St. John interlude (it doesn't help that in the film it's pronounced "SinJin" which lead me to make cracks about "SinJin the non-Asian") and I hate that Rochester gets all messed up in the end and lives the rest of his life all blind. I also don't find Jane to be that entrancing a character. Maybe for early 19th century England, but it doesn't translate. She just seems kind of poky.

Watching it on the heels of Paul Blart: Mall Cop did result in some hysterical laughing about "Lord and Lady Blart" and "Lord and Lady Mall Cop" which the Dotytron made me promise not to share because he said it wouldn't be funny out of context but I'm seriously laughing out loud while I type it, so there you go.

First Day of Work Report:

It went amazingly well. I really do love love love my job. And (most) of the people I work with. And my building. And being busy. And joining teams. And having a purpose to my day and a reason to put on nice clothes and straighten my hair and get my act together. I'm so not meant to be a stay-at-home mum. I can't do it. I loved being home with him, but I'm so much more engaged and useful when I'm firing on all pistons and when my calendar is filled up with stuff and I've got a long-long task list to beaver away at. That's just the nature of me.

The Big Yam had a good day. I dropped him off and there were no tears (there are never tears when I leave him with someone.) He happily waved bye-bye to me from J's window and she said he was totally lovely. He didn't eat many vegetables (she's providing us with a written write-up for him for the next week or so) because there were Cheerios being offered and his nap schedule got all messed up, but other than that it was smooth sailing. He was totally hungry for the boob when I got home and although I didn't find myself missing him during the day, I was near frantic to see him when I got home, which wasn't helped along by a stupid TTC delay, frazzling my nerves and ramping up the tension even more. J is Chilean so her English isn't perfect and her write up was hilarious. Does it make me a bad person that when I read the comment under "Notes about nap time" (it said, bluntly: "He cry") that I laughed? Poor Boobla. He hates sleeping in pack'n'plays and not in his own bed so I can only imagine how much "he cry" when J tried to put him down. I just find it so funny how poorly "he cry" captures what really must have gone down.

The Dotytron was on dinner patrol and this is what he made:

As my neighbours enviously commented, technically, I just use the Dotytron as my proxy - like in Ratatouille. I do most of the complicated chopping and lay out the mis-en-place and he executes per my detailed email instructions. I came home to a scene last night where the Dotytron was losing his mind and bemoaning about how "ruined dinner" but he was just super-anxious about getting it right. It turned out perfectly. That's leftover polenta that I froze, sliced and pan-fried, topped with creamed spinach and leeks, poached eggs, and cheddar cheese. So simple and so darned tasty.

Timing worked out pretty well. I was home by 5:45, dinner was on the table at 6:30 so I got to play with the Big Yam in between, and after dinner we had over an hour to hang with Master T before putting him to bed at 8pm and getting back to our own business. Hopefully we can keep up the momentum!

This weekend is a doozy. Tonight it's dinner at R & R's house. I made an apple pie (all the neighbours have gone apple picking lately and we're being gifted with the inevitable surplus - apples are just too easy to pick!) with a brown butter oat streusel. We're getting takeout though and hopefully playing Settlers. Then we're spending the night up in Markham because we're babysitting my Poh Poh tomorrow. We'll take the Big Yam swimming and then do some errands and then hang with MHui and her family. Sunday we're having brunch with Nany and Momma D and then home for some much-needed down time and house cleaning.

Phew!

Thanks to all you dear readers for the love and support and words of encouragement during this time! Much love to you all.

Fin.

This one time...

at band camp...

Band camp was the best - we had amazing weather and it was a beautiful location only an hour north of the city. The closest town is Sutton, but it's just north of Keswick, on the banks of Lake Simcoe. The camp takes place every year in the 3 days leading up to Thanksgiving at the Salvation Army's Jackson's Point Camp and Conference Centre. The facilities are pretty sweet - there's a big conference centre that's newer-looking with a cafeteria, a great room, and two wings of dorm-style rooms, each with a private bathroom. Then there are a tonne of cabins and lodges and another giant auditorium with another mess hall on the other side. The grounds are lovely - they have a strip of private beach and the fall colours were on full display, with some late, Indian-summer warmth to make the days in t-shirts really pleasant.

The Big Yam was a HUGE hit at Band Camp and he and another baby who showed up had a set during the Talent Show. The other baby was a bit of a dud so the Boobla carried the show and brought the house down with his vocal stylings. It was pretty cute. I've already been instructed by the president of the parent council that we have to come back next year. During the day the kids do sessions with visiting clinicians and then at night they have some free time and activities like bonfires, a dance, etc.

I spent the days with the Big Yam exploring parks and going for walks and we visited our friend C and his family in Orillia - had a DELICIOUS lunch at this place Apple Annie's - if you're ever in town, I highly recommend it - my smoked turkey and cheddar panino was scrumptious.

The kids at band camp were all around well-behaved, kind of nerdy meatballs (this IS band camp after all) and it kind of made me realize how YOUNG high school kids are. They're babies, really. And the intermediate kids are like, zygotes. It also highlighted to me how spectacularly unsuited I am to be a teacher. I have no sympathy for mass amounts of kid-based posturing and the spiraling lunacy that happens when you have that amount of prepubescent hormones teeming together.

Last night we had Momma D over for dinner and I made us steak, sautéed mushrooms, baked acorn squash, and sliced tomatoes (green zebra and this variety called peach tomatoes that I've never had before - they're fuzzy!) with mozzarella cheese cubes and balsamic.

Tonight for pre-dodgeball dinner we had BLT's made with English bacon and roasted garlic-scallion aioli, with sweet potato fries, and broccoli salad.

Tomorrow is my first day back at work...eep!!!

Fin.

525 948.766

That's how many minutes there are in a year (according to the Google calculator, NOT according to the song from Rent.) That's how many minutes young Master T has been in our lives. That's how many minutes we've spent falling in love with this little guy who started as an idea, grew in my tummy, and emerged as him - a fully-formed human being with a pretty amazing personality. A little baby who began with scrawny chicken legs and arms and a low voice who is now a funny, babbling, winding and grinding, almost-walking little Boobla.

Each minute that passes makes you marvel at the point you're at now, while simultaneously being wistful for the the baby that was before. We're looking forward to what kind of ridiculousness he's going to spout once he starts talking, but when I hear him babbling away to himself in the back seat I know I'm going to miss the sounds of his nonsensical pre-verbal musings.

This year has been filled with sweetness and light and bitterness and shadow. Last night, when we started reflecting on the magnitude of what this year has meant for us with the Big Yam, we couldn't also help but have a cry about what we lost, too. I'm so very, very sad that Poppa D didn't get to spend T's 1st birthday with us. I know he would have been over-the-moon and would have loved every minute of it and would have been thrilled to be there to spoil him and laugh at his hijinks. We hadn't had a cry like that in a while and we needed it. The one year marker is a significant one and I was struck anew by how many moments and milestones Poppa D wouldn't get to witness. I really wanted T to experience a grandparents sleepover and going to a ball game with his Poppa and seeing his Poppa cheer him on at school plays and sports games. There is so much about this moment that f**king sucks, even as we're celebrating. I has thought that Thanksgiving would be harder, being the first major holiday without Poppa D, but I'm finding that I'm having a much harder time with the Big Yam's birthday.

Here are some photos from the weekend - for Poppa D.

T wearing his birthday crown & tux

T's birthday cake - a classic golden cake with chocolate frosting (which was too sour, but whatever)

The Big Yam's first taste of refined sugar was VERY favourably received

All tuckered out post dim-sum lunch

We spent Sunday afternoon playing kickball and touch football with the cousins - this is a scene from the sidelines.

I don't start work until Thursday, so today I'm spending with Momma D and the Big Yam.

Fin.

BAND CAMP

The Dotytron has abandoned us for the next 3 days for Band Camp which has me super-bummed. Although there's a slight chance that me and the Big Yam might be able to join him up there - which would be THE BEST! It's about an hour and a half away on the banks of Lake Simcoe and I think it would be a nice little fun getaway for the three of us...especially since the Dotytron is already gutted that he's going to be away from us for so long and I'm equally gutted that he's going to be gone for the tail half of the end of my maternity leave.

Dinner on Monday - whole wheat penne with roasted eggplant, roasted garlic, cherry tomatoes, and basil. Also a spoonful of kalamata olive paste thrown in there in lieu of whole smashed olives, which is how I usually make this pasta. We had the roomie over for dinner and served this alongside my current favorite salad - baby arugala with grated parm, dressed with lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper. So simple but so delicious.

Just waiting to hear back on whether we're going to Band Camp or not...cross your fingers for us! We really really really want to go! But even if we stay, we'll have fun...just not as much.

Fin.

Dialing back

The first weekend of dialing back went well and was very manageable and very fun. I may or may not have just spent the last hour of precious Big Yam nap time poring over the Google Calendar and trying to slot in social commitments, but that's just the nature of our beastly lives at the moment.

Here are some shots from Competitive Backyard BBQ. Incidentally, I won the desserts category!!! Wahoo!!!

S & P did an amazing job - look at all that hay! There was a live band in their backyard and 4 giant tables of food and a Port O Potty and it was so well organized and well run - you couldn't ask for better. It was really fun seeing friends out and about.

Then Dr. Rei, Hanbo, the Dotytron and I booked it home to eat secret ribs that I had smoked in the smoker - look at the pink in that stink! THOSE are ribs, my friends. Dry rubbed in my special blend of herbs and spices, smoked for 3 hours (they could have gone for 1 more hour) and then finished on the grill with my chipotle bbq sauce. Served alongside my award-winning potato salad and with Dr. Rei's coleslaw. That's what I'm talkin' about. Right there. All day. Just me.

Then we played TWO (!!!!!!) games of Settlers of Catan and it was literally the best, ever. I won and Dr. Rei won. Winning Settlers is the best feeling in the world.

Sunday morning we beat the Leslieville lunch rush and showed up at Lady Marmalade RIGHT when they opened and had a leisurely, rainy morning breakfast (me: crepe croque monsieur with poached eggs; the Dotytron: mangob, brie, bacon, eggs benedict). Then we did some erranding and came home to watch the rain from inside, wearing our jammies and slippers.

Our Discerning Coyote friend came by with a lovely card and some delicious oatmeal cookies and I finished the Big Yam's quilt while watching Parks and Recreation on demand. A pretty perfect night if you ask me.

That is, until, I had to put a sleepy, freshly bathed, fleecey-pj'd Big Yam to bed. He was being soooo cute. His Baba would be holding him and when he saw me launched himself out of the Dotytron's arms and wrapped his little arms around my neck and stuck to me the way the octopus sticks to the Professor Frink's face on The Simpsons. Then when it was time to go to bed he was doing his sweet, sweet thing of putting his head to rest on my shoulder and I just got so sad that as I was singing him his bedtime songs I was silently weeping and my salty tears were dripping onto his little duck-fluff head. Then I cried some more in bed. I was crying because he's going to daycare and I have about a week left of maternity leave and I was crying because I thought he was going to forget me and because he was going to miss his afternoon "nai nai" (Cantonese for milk) which he now knows to ask for (accompanied with much tugging at my shirt) and I was crying because I was worried that he would be confused and wonder why we "abandoned" him to Jeannette. TOTALLY TRAGIC.

I've been trying to be a tough guy about going back to work but I'm clearly a wreck. I mean, I AM looking forward to going back to work and putting on real clothes and using that part of my brain and seeing my colleagues, but how am I supposed to leave him every day? How am I supposed to be satisfied with 2 hours with him every night?!? C'est ne pas juste.

Our friend B dropped off wild empire mushrooms his dad foraged in the woods and this morning I sautéed them in butter and mixed them with runny eggs and the Big Yam and I had them with toast. I'm trying to make a conscious effort to savour every moment of this week. My neighbour asked me if I was doing "anything special" with the Big Yam during this week and I was stymied for an answer. I think my approach is going to be to luxuriate in each moment with him and not take on anything crazy; no special, commemorative events or outings, but just make our days and our time together special by being so very conscious of each moment and how much we've grown together this past year.

And...now I'm crying again. What. The. Heck.

Fin.

A new day

A new day has dawned and I'm already feeling lighter (vicious bout of heart burn last night notwithstanding.) After a calming talk with Dr. Rei, the Dotytron, and my sister (my personal life-coaching team), I've divested my schedule of all activities in the near future that feel like an obligation and that feel like they're for someone else instead of me and it's allowing me to breathe a little (a lot) easier.

My neighbour seems to think that I might be hormonal as well - I've been cutting out some of the daytime feeds for the Boobla and he's SUPER-attached to his "naai naai" (Cantonese for milk) so it's been a little hard for the both of us. Although, his second word is "naai naai" so now he has WORDS instead of a word. It's kind of blowing our minds. This is a video of him wearing his tuxedo and harassing Boddington by shouting cat at him in Cantonese:

He's also started doing this thing where he talks to his toys. It's pretty hilarious. He kind of leans in real close and then says, "Buh!" at them. He's also started nodding his head, which leads to all kinds of hilarity. Even though you know he's not REALLY agreeing with what you're saying, the kid has pretty awesome comedic timing.

Our Rosh Hashanah dinner was pretty boss, even if it was just for the three of us in the end. The roast chicken was super-juicy with a delicious crispy skin, I made a wine-based gravy with the pan juices, maple-ginger carrots, noodle kugel with endive and baby spinach (soo good!), and roasted Russian Princess potatoes from our CSA (they're pink fleshed!) For dessert was apple cake with bourbon caramel sauce. It was a big hit all around, I must say. Noodle kugel is sooo freakin' tasty. The recipe that I use mixes egg noodles with eggs, sour cream, cottage cheese, poppy seeds, and I add in sautéed onions and greens - it would be a fantastic vegetarian main dish with a side salad. It's deeply satisfying stuff - especially with the noodles that get all browned on top and crispy.

Today we're spending the morning hanging with Xtina & her baby H, and then we're having dinner with our friends JJ & S at their place and (hopefully) introducing them to the wonders that is Settlers of Catan. Our goal is to get the maximum number of people hooked that we can.

I took myself out of the meat category in the Competitive Backyard BBQ that I'm in participating in tomorrow and just entering the desserts category. I just didn't want to have to stress about smoking ribs for 25 people and fussing with my wood on a cold day. It just didn't seem worth it to me at the time. Tell me if this makes me a bad person. The CBBBQ is being put on by my friend to raise money for a charity that helps people with developmental disabilities start businesses and live independent lives. I'm totally on board with that. Then I found out that some of those people with developmental disabilities were also taking part in the competition and now I feel like they're going to get the pity vote and win and I'm kinda sore about it. Actually, I know it makes me a bad person, I don't need you to tell me. WHY AM I SUCH A BAD PERSON?!?????

I'm going to think on that today.

Fin.

New Year

It's a new year around here, of the Jewish variety. We're having Momma D and the Dotytron's oldest childhood friend over for dinner tonight to celebrate Rosh Hashanah (aka excuse to eat apple cake and noodle kugel night.)

This will be a compendium post of things we've been up to as of late.

I made these corn and feta fritters which were absolutely delicious and so easy. I cut the corn kernals off of 2 ears of corn and set that aside. In a bowl, I mixed together 3 eggs, some baking powder (about a teaspoon), and enough flour to make a thickish pancake batter and then folded in the corn and some crumbled feta. Seasoned the mix with salt and pepper and cooked it on my greased cast iron skillet until browned on both sides. This would also be great with some grated zucchini. It makes a nice accompaniment to soup for a light meal.

The same night that I made the fritters, I trucked my butt (and the Big Yam's) up to North York Central Library for an interview and book signing with the author that kick-started my love for YA - Sarah Dessen. So cool!!! I got a book signed for myself and one for my sister, who is also a super-fan and basically a Chinese Sarah Dessen. To say that the event was an estrogen/hormonal juggernaut would be a gross understatement. There was a lot of brace-face, gaspy, breathy, "Um, I like, just wanted to say, that you're like, my favorite author in the whole like, world" type business happening, with some long-suffering boyfriends and parents thrown into the mix and then me with my baby. It was AWESOME.

We were all coming down with colds last week so I went into Jewish grandma mode and made us chicken matzoh ball soup with loads of crack black pepper and dill. Friday night was a rainy, miserable night that also called for being in our pajamas. Rainy nights that call for being in your pajamas ALSO call for warm cookies, so I whipped up a batch of chocolate coffee toffee brownie cookies. They were a HIT! Only 2 tablespooons of butter in the whole recipe! They're pretty cakey and fudgy and sweet, with the coffee adding a nice hit of depth and undernote of bitterness. I'm going to post the recipe at the end of this post.

Last week I had the brilliant idea that if the Boobla is going to wake us up obscenely early on weekends, then we might as well do something with that time and hit St. Lawrence Market. So on Saturday morning, we packed our butts into the car at 7am and drove to the market and ate a a delicious breakfast of peameal breakfast sammies and snacked on treats from the north farmer's market. It was a pretty inspired plan. Then we came home and napped. When we woke up, I dressed the Big Yam up like a chav:

and had him chill outside with us while I worked on the garden, planting bulbs. Here is the problem with 99% of moms out there - if I were to get some ridiculous gold chains and a fake Gucci hat and dress the Big Yam up as a chav for Halloween, it would TOTALLY go over all their heads. So sad. So many wasted opportunities. I'm thinking that our Twin Peaks inspired costumes are ALSO going to go over all their heads.

Team Cleveland was up for my mom's annual ball so we took them to the Burger's Priest and ordered off the secret menu. I got the High Priest, which is their version of the Big Mac - soooo tasty. Team Cleveland was suitably impressed.

The Dotytron wasn't feeling up to dealing with the ball so he volunteered to babysit the Big Yam and Little Big Cuz, whose name the Dotytron's phone auto corrects to "Marxist" - which is pretty hilarious. I brought the Big Yam down for a bit because I wanted to show him off in his tuxedo - look at how slammin' my mom looks:

Team Cleveland

My family is totally stressing me out right now. We're trying to organize Thanksgiving and trying to include Momma D and Ehmdo but it's complicated by the fact that my mom and Big D are basically shut-in, anti-social hoarding weirdos. Add to that that it's the Big Yam's one year birthday and it's just compounding the stress. I dunno - should I feel bad that I'm not doing a giant theme party for his birthday? I can't handle that. We don't have the space for it and I just don't have it in me to throw that together right now. Plus: HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON! That's how I'm justifying it to myself, anyway.

{time lapse}

Okay. I just had a mental breakdown that involved me throwing papers at the Dotytron and breaking down crying because after trying so hard to make it okay for Momma D and Ehmdo to come to Thanksgiving in the end they're not coming and it turns out that Nany isn't coming to the Big Yam's birthday dim sum lunch and I've had ENOUGH. Enough of doing all this stupid, goddamned organizing to make stuff happen so that everyone can be together. I can't do it. It's stupid and I hate it and I take on too much and it's not worth it. I'm cancelling dinner tonight so that I can do what **I** want, which, in the last 2 weeks of my maternity leave, is to spend time with the Dotytron and the Big Yam and friends and family as long as it is EASY and it's what I want to do and not out of some weird sense of Type A organizational obligation. I've cancelled our dinner guests so that I can feel okay eating dinner in my pajamas and then zoning out in front of the TV with my sewing.

That's my mantra and I'm sticking to it. This will be the finest Rosh Hashanah ever!

Fin.

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Chocolate Coffee Toffee Cookies

6 oz. semi sweet chocolate

2 T. unsalted butter

1 T. instant coffee

1 c. all purpose flour

2 T. unsweetened cocoa powder

1 t. baking powder

1 t. salt

3/4 c. sugar

2 eggs

1 t. vanilla extract

1/2 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips

1/2 c. toffee bits

- preheat oven to 300F

- melt the butter and chocolate together, until smooth

- stir all the dry ingredients together (instant coffee, flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, salt)

- whisk together the sugar with the eggs and vanilla. Stir the liquid ingredients into the chocolate mixture. Stir the dry ingredients into the chocolate mixture.

- stir in the chocolate chips and toffee bits

- scoop out 1/4 c. spoonfuls of batter and bake on parchment or silpat lined baking sheets for about 15-20 minutes until tops are puffy and slightly cracked.

Remembering

Monday started off as a strange, weird day. There was this weird, buzzy, restless, heightened charge to the air that made us kind of tense. I couldn't believe we were having a memorial for Poppa D. It felt like it was for someone else. It still feels like we just haven't seen him for the normal amount of time that we don't see Momma and Poppa D sometimes (a couple of weeks) and that we'll go for dinner in a week or two and he'll still be there.

The memorial was truly beautiful and truly a celebration of his life in a way that people often intend those things to be but they rarely are. Our friends played piano and bass and the room was filled with friends and family, all coming together to pay their respects - there must have been over 150 people there - I can't imagine having touched that many people's lives, myself. The speeches, especially the Dotytron's, Ehmdo's and Momma D's were beautiful and heartfelt and helped to paint a picture of the husband, father, grandfather, outlaw dad, son, brother, friend, colleague that people lost too soon.

I feel like now the hard part begins. The part where we all have to learn to live without Poppa D's gentle, supportive, loving presence in our life. When I think about the loss for the Big Yam and how unaware he is of what he's lost, and how he won't even remember that year he got to spend with his Poppa it makes me cry so hard.

The Dotytron wisely took this week off of work. I'm going to resume regularly scheduled posting tomorrow to bring you all up to speed on what we've been up to as of late.

With you in grief and in joy,

Fin.

Memorial

Today is the memorial service for Poppa D. I can't believe it's happening - that we're actually doing this. Most of the time it feels like we just haven't seen him in a while - like he's gone on vacation and we'll see him in a week's time.

My heart aches for the Dotytron.

Fin.

Spitting image

Everyone always looks at the Big Yam and sees his Asian colouring and how deep and dark his eyes are and remarks on how much he looks like his mama. We've been going through old photos and we came across ones of the young Dotytron and I can totally see so much of him in the Boobla Khan. Some of the expressions are identical to T's. See for yourself:

In the last two weeks the Big Yam has been working on his vocabulary. His one word vocabulary. He knows how to say "miao" (Cantonese for cat) and he spends his mornings as I'm getting his breakfast ready chasing the cats and shouting "miaomiaomiaomiaomiao!" at them. It's pretty cute. I'm trying to teach him other words but no luck so far. This past week I've been leaving him with J, his caregiver, for an hour here and there at the drop-in centre and actually taking off and leaving the premises to get him used to her. He's been fine. Distressingly fine. He's notorious for being pretty independent and an easy, relaxed baby so that's to be expected I guess, but it hurts a teensy bit. Although, he reserves special smiles for me and when I show up to collect him he immediately drops whatever he's doing (gumming something he shouldn't be gumming) and crawls over with a big grin. He's also been a bit clingy afterward but that could also because he's got a cold and he's cutting a new tooth. Who knows.

Last night we had Momma D and Ehmdo over to watch the Big Yam while we played in our first dodgeball game of the season (we got spanked, but that's incidental.) I made us a pretty fantastic dinner - open faced steak melts consisting of: nice bread sliced semi-thick, brushed with roasted garlic oil, and lightly toasted in the oven, topped with smushed roasted garlic cloves, caramelized onion, sliced seared steak, and horseradish cheddar, broiled to melt; sliced tomatoes with salt and pepper; and a mache salad with grated grano padano and a lemon-olive oil dressing.

Fin.

The right way

I keep feeling like there's things that I should be doing during this time. Like I should be crying more or I should be still more or I should not be laughing or making time for friends. It feels wrong that life has resumed a fairly regular rhythm and I feel like I'm being judged for not wearing a mantle of grief all the time.

I know that I'm in shock. It really doesn't feel real. I know that as different significant dates pass (holidays and the like), there will be more grieving to come. Grieving is really a process that's different for everyone...but I can't help feeling guilty. I think that in Western, capitalist-driven culture, we're not really given a lot of time or space to be quite and reflect and be present and still in our emotions. I know that I'm particularly guilty of that in my day-to-day life, whirling from one item on my task list to another. I know that this tendency has been exacerbated by the presence of the Big Yam in my life and his insatiable demands and boundless energy. You kind of have to be an organizational wunderkind when you have a kid if you prize any semblance of order or predictability (and I do, Lord knows I do).

I feel like I'm trying to hold it down so that the Dotytron isn't destabilized too much and by extension so that we can both support Momma D and Ehmdo. I'm feeling numbed by the demands of being normal - with school, the Big Yam, going back to work, keeping a household running.

As Dr. Rei reminded me though - there's multiple ways of grieving and there's no right way. I'm definitely finding it comforting leaning on friends and family. I'm hoping that the Dotytron will be able to take Friday to be quiet and alone and reflective - I'm taking the Big Yam out shopping with Momma D and the Dotytron is taking the day off of work. It will be a good chance for him to be alone - he's rarely alone, with me and Master T and being surrounded by kids all day at work and all. He can think about what he wants to say at the service and just be meditative and live in the moment in his emotions. I'm hoping that I will get the opportunity at a later date to do the same, although I do get to steal an hour here or there - writing this miserable blog is really when I get to do that and I'm grateful to have this as an outlet and grateful that all my readers (yes, all 2 of you) indulge me.

Fin.