Thursday, August 27, 2009
Harper Needs to be Extradited Back to Hell
I can't believe this and this, and hey, how about this?! The Harper government is without a doubt, the sneakiest most mean-tempered government I've ever not voted for. I couldn't believe they were even appealing the Omar Khadr judgement the first time, now they are taking it to the supreme court? And in case that isn't bad enough they are sneaking around trying to change the humanitarian and foreign affairs culture/climate to better suit their twisted view of citizenship? Why are people not up in arms? Why are the media outlets not running this as the top political story? Who cares about Jack Layton's moustache - Harper is damaging Canada's reputation and endangering our commitment to humanitarian law. I seriously can't believe this jerk is our prime minister.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Yowzaa!
This is my eyelash curler with half of my eyelashes still in it. I slipped while curling and let me tell you, it hurts. And now my eyelid is half bald.
There is nothing so agonizing to the fine skin of vanity as the application of a rough truth. ~Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
There is nothing so agonizing to the fine skin of vanity as the application of a rough truth. ~Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Naked
I have never really been shy when it comes to being nude. As a child I loved being naked and even as a teenager would often wander around in my undies (much to my brothers' horror). It didn't take me long however to realize that many people, particularly in North America, did not share my level of comfort with exposed flesh. By high school I understood that one could only really be naked in the privacy of their own home. One of the girls who I went to school with used to shower naked after gym and everyone made fun of her. Secretly I envied her apparent obliviousness to the social rules.
Now I'm that lady at the gym who showers naked, as the young teenage girls go to ridiculous lengths to hide themselves. It took a bath house in Korea to re-awaken my comfort with public nudity and I've never looked back. (Never look back when naked in public - it makes people nervous.) I've also noticed that the same comfort with nakedness that existed in Korea is extended here among the Asian population. Usually the only naked people in the showers at the Y are me, and all the Asian immigrants. White people have waaay too many hang ups.
In a mildly related note, I was showering last week when a dozen 6-year-old day campers were ordered to stand in line right in front of me. There I was, vulnerable and exposed with 24 little eyes staring at me. And the weird part was, because none of those eyes belonged to MY kid, I felt blissfully, peacefully alone. How things change.
Now I'm that lady at the gym who showers naked, as the young teenage girls go to ridiculous lengths to hide themselves. It took a bath house in Korea to re-awaken my comfort with public nudity and I've never looked back. (Never look back when naked in public - it makes people nervous.) I've also noticed that the same comfort with nakedness that existed in Korea is extended here among the Asian population. Usually the only naked people in the showers at the Y are me, and all the Asian immigrants. White people have waaay too many hang ups.
In a mildly related note, I was showering last week when a dozen 6-year-old day campers were ordered to stand in line right in front of me. There I was, vulnerable and exposed with 24 little eyes staring at me. And the weird part was, because none of those eyes belonged to MY kid, I felt blissfully, peacefully alone. How things change.
Monday, August 03, 2009
To Paisley: 18 Months Old
One and a half!? How did we get here? Some days I can't believe how quickly this has all gone but for you it must feel like a lifetime. Ha! Ha!
Okay, seriously. You are getting so big and as much as I hate to admit it, you are no longer a baby. You can run now and turn on the lights and are starting to talk. You point to kids younger than you and say "bay-beee" with delight. Every time you do it I am filled with a mix of delight and sadness. I am in awe that I get to watch you learn to label things and make sounds that actually mean something. I am sad because even you recognize that somehow, you are different from those tiny, dependent creatures.
The past few months have been full of walks, swimming, and sliding. Oh the sliding. There is a big yellow twirly slide just behind our house and it holds an allure for you that even the strongest distractions cannot break. The minute you get out the door, you head for the slide. You climb the ladder without fear and go down on your tummy, feet first. And then you want to do it again. "Again" unfortunately, is not yet a word. It is a squeal with intonation. Something like "Aaa-yiiii" which has become the soundtrack to my life. You love life, and being thrown and swinging around and being tickled and being sung too and being hugged and I will accommodate you and do those things again, and again.
You went to the Stampede for the first time this year and loved it. You loved the animals and the Superdogs and of course, the rides. You are such a brave little kid - even though you are so little, you loved the big slides and the merry-go-round and I loved only having to pay two tickets. You got on stage with all the other little kids and danced to Splash 'n Boots and your Dad and I watched and laughed and kept the camera rolling. (The term "rolling" comes from the olden days when video cameras actually had tapes in them.) Living in Calgary, the Stampede is likely something you will do every year. I am so excited to watch you grow and discover new things and have so much fun at such a ridiculously over the top place.
Your words are coming rapidly now and we are always so amazed at your ability to mimic. Until recently it took ages for you to earn a word and now you can repeat things you've only heard once. Like "antidisestablishmentarianism" or "kiwi". You like to make us laugh and you do it very well. You know that blinking your eyes like a cracked-out owl will do the trick. So does howling like a wolf or making fish faces. You enjoy nothing more than sitting in your highchair and performing a one-woman dinner show for your Mom and Dad and you always get an encore. We don't really follow the "laughing will only encourage her" philosophy, because feeling funny is good and kiddo, you are a riot.
You are so social and love being around people a lot. You seem to be at your best when there are a lot of people around. You prefer that they all be giving you their undivided attention, and they usually are. You say "Hi!" to everyone we pass in the store or on the street and I love it because I do the same thing. Your Dad always gets a bit embarrassed by the way I go out of my way to greet complete strangers. Now we can tag team the world and brighten everyone's day - one "Hi!" at a time.
I remember when you were first born, how much my shoulders hurt from carrying you around all the time. Although you didn't weight much, the constant added weight was a painful adjustment but one I eventually made. Since then I have carried you around a lot. We don't use the stroller very often and I let you walk as much as possible but I also hold you and carry you every day. Now that you are getting older, and heavier I can't believe that I ever had sore muscles from that little baby. I also know that soon, those "carrying" muscles will start to atrophy and that my body will make another adjustment - one of being a mother to a child, and not a baby. This idea makes me feel sad and nostalgic - how is it that having you has made me feel so strong and at the same time, so very weak?
Love,
Mama
Okay, seriously. You are getting so big and as much as I hate to admit it, you are no longer a baby. You can run now and turn on the lights and are starting to talk. You point to kids younger than you and say "bay-beee" with delight. Every time you do it I am filled with a mix of delight and sadness. I am in awe that I get to watch you learn to label things and make sounds that actually mean something. I am sad because even you recognize that somehow, you are different from those tiny, dependent creatures.
The past few months have been full of walks, swimming, and sliding. Oh the sliding. There is a big yellow twirly slide just behind our house and it holds an allure for you that even the strongest distractions cannot break. The minute you get out the door, you head for the slide. You climb the ladder without fear and go down on your tummy, feet first. And then you want to do it again. "Again" unfortunately, is not yet a word. It is a squeal with intonation. Something like "Aaa-yiiii" which has become the soundtrack to my life. You love life, and being thrown and swinging around and being tickled and being sung too and being hugged and I will accommodate you and do those things again, and again.
You went to the Stampede for the first time this year and loved it. You loved the animals and the Superdogs and of course, the rides. You are such a brave little kid - even though you are so little, you loved the big slides and the merry-go-round and I loved only having to pay two tickets. You got on stage with all the other little kids and danced to Splash 'n Boots and your Dad and I watched and laughed and kept the camera rolling. (The term "rolling" comes from the olden days when video cameras actually had tapes in them.) Living in Calgary, the Stampede is likely something you will do every year. I am so excited to watch you grow and discover new things and have so much fun at such a ridiculously over the top place.
Your words are coming rapidly now and we are always so amazed at your ability to mimic. Until recently it took ages for you to earn a word and now you can repeat things you've only heard once. Like "antidisestablishmentarianism" or "kiwi". You like to make us laugh and you do it very well. You know that blinking your eyes like a cracked-out owl will do the trick. So does howling like a wolf or making fish faces. You enjoy nothing more than sitting in your highchair and performing a one-woman dinner show for your Mom and Dad and you always get an encore. We don't really follow the "laughing will only encourage her" philosophy, because feeling funny is good and kiddo, you are a riot.
You are so social and love being around people a lot. You seem to be at your best when there are a lot of people around. You prefer that they all be giving you their undivided attention, and they usually are. You say "Hi!" to everyone we pass in the store or on the street and I love it because I do the same thing. Your Dad always gets a bit embarrassed by the way I go out of my way to greet complete strangers. Now we can tag team the world and brighten everyone's day - one "Hi!" at a time.
I remember when you were first born, how much my shoulders hurt from carrying you around all the time. Although you didn't weight much, the constant added weight was a painful adjustment but one I eventually made. Since then I have carried you around a lot. We don't use the stroller very often and I let you walk as much as possible but I also hold you and carry you every day. Now that you are getting older, and heavier I can't believe that I ever had sore muscles from that little baby. I also know that soon, those "carrying" muscles will start to atrophy and that my body will make another adjustment - one of being a mother to a child, and not a baby. This idea makes me feel sad and nostalgic - how is it that having you has made me feel so strong and at the same time, so very weak?
Love,
Mama
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