What is Going ON?!?!?!?!?!?

I've been so troubled this past week by things going on in this world.  Not even this world, but in my city, my country.  It makes me sad that this is the way things are going.  My heart breaks and mourns for my son's generation, and every generation after because we're losing some fundamental values - like compassion and respect. 

Earlier this week, a friend of mine who is almost seven months pregnant was walking across the street, when she was hit by a car.  Now, she's fine, completely fine.  But the point is, the guy who hit her rolled down his window and yelled, "Sorry..." as he drove away.  One witness didn't stop but asked if she was okay as he passed on by.  Even the police didn't feel the need to investigate - because she wasn't in a coma or worse...  I guess they're too busy arresting people for having parking tickets and such.

A friend of mine wrote on her fb page that a car was in the middle of an intersection blocking traffic.  Car after car after car drove past, not bothering to see if they needed anything.  My friend stopped to see if she could help, only to find one of the passengers was having a seizure.  Everyone else just drove on by...too busy or just not bothered enough to care.

Five children (that we know about) in Canada in the past year have committed suicide over claims that they have been bullied to the point of no return.  The victims of bullying.  Let me state the obvious for what I will say next maybe will shock some.  It is horrible, horrible, horrible that anyone thinks it's okay or derives any delight from belittling, teasing, or hating someone else.  Especially to the point where someone thinks the only out is to kill themselves.  It's horrendous.

However, it's also horrendous that no one thought to do anything about it until these children killed themselves.  All these anti-bullying commercials, in my opinion, glorify the bullying and glorify the bullying.  Instead, let's teach these children how to defend themselves (with words, of course), how to stick together.  Let's teach children self worth, so that when they're met with adversity - they know otherwise.  Let's teach children that shitty things are going to happen in this world, that not everyone wins, that succeeding in life is really, really hard work.  Let's teach them that failures happen.  Let's help them find somewhere to fit in.  If I had tried to fit in with the popular kids in high school, I would have been teased for sure.  Instead, I found a small group of like minded souls who enjoyed the same things I did, who had my back - and so it didn't matter when people laughed at me, or said something bad about me.  They weren't my people and so what they thought didn't matter.  And to this day, it does not matter.  

Then let's teach them how to get up, brush themselves off and try again.  Let's show them what competition looks like and how to practice even harder when they lose.  Let's show them how to work hard, fail, work harder, fail, work harder and fail again.  Because it seems to me, kids don't know what adversity is.  Everyone gets a ribbon at the race, because everyone showed up.  

What worries me even more is that I fit into this group just as much as anyone else.  I try to shield my child from everything, because isn't that my job as a parent?  Q thinks bullying is when someone thinks something other than him.  "S wanted to play on the swings at recess, but I said no, I want to play soccer.  He's such a bully."

Dinner with some friends this week was also quite enlightening.  No longer can anything with any inkling of Christianity be in a public school.  I understand the separation of church and state, whether I agree with it or not, but you cannot even mention Santa anymore.  Children refuse to stand for the National Anthem, because it's not theirs or because it mentions God in it.  

But...

These same schools will equally celebrate Eid, Ramadan, Chinese New Year, Diwali, and Vashaki.  Don't get me wrong...I don't mind this, and even welcome it, because it's so fascinating to learn about other cultures.  The problem that I have is that our culture is becoming *offensive* in our own schools, our own country.  Our culture is slowly being erased.

What's going on?

How do you make a difference in a world where people no longer care?

Where do you even begin?

How do you teach your children to care? 

What do you teach your children?

I think we're teaching our children to be pansies.  We're teaching them to give up when the going gets hard.  We're teaching them not to stand up for what they believe in, because we're not doing it ourselves.  We're leading by example.  We're walking by people who need our help without a second glance.  We're every man for himself.  It makes me so sad.

Merry Christmas!!

I'm probably not the only one, but Christmas is my favourite time of year.  I've been listening to Christmas music since December hit.  How can you be in a bad mood listening to Christmas music?  Our living room looks like the North Pole opened up and puked lights and decorations and presents everywhere.   Of course, having an eight year old is really the only encouragement you need to make every Christmas the best Christmas ever. 

 

I'm sure this will be remembered as the last year that Q believed in Santa.  He's already starting to debate the logistics of Santa...thinking it impossible rather than magical.  I love his innocence.  I love his ability to believe in something that is just so completely, well...impossible.  He's been asking questions lately, though, that tell me his innocence in *this* category is slowly fading. 

 

"Why didn't the dog bark last year when Santa delivered presents?  She barks at everything?"

 

"It's impossible for Santa to deliver to every child in the whole world in one night."

 

"The Norad Santa Tracker is so fake.  They said he was in Vancouver, but the news said he was in Winnipeg." (Geez, multimedia...get your stories straight please...)

 

It reminds me of my best friend's son who said when he was about this age, "Mommy, I'm pretty sure Santa doesn't exist, but could we just pretend for one more year..."

 

This was also the first year there were no toys under the tree.  I mean, don't get me wrong, there werent just books and clothes and underwear, but there weren't any Legos or Hot Wheels or Stuffed Animals.  There were movies and video games and sports equipment and an iPod.  It's the end of an era, really. 

 

Hopefully the end of a cluttered, trip-over-wayward-toy, why-is-that-toy-so-noisy era...

 

So today, I will leave you with some amazing words from some amazing Christmas carols.  We sing them so often by memory, how often do we stop to think of their meaning?

Joy to the world

The Lord has come.

Let Earth receive her King

Let every heart prepare Him room

 

and...

 

A thrill of hope

A weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks

a new and glorious morn

With so many horrible events taking place in our world lately, I'd say we are desperately weary, all looking for a reason to rejoice. 

Merry Christmas from our home to yours!!

 

A Heavy Heart

This morning I woke Q up the same way I do every morning (well, every morning that he doesn't wake me up with a "Mom-my, I'm hungry) with a "Wakey, wakey eggs and bac-y!!!"

 

Okay, so it starts that way.  Then it's, "C'mon!! Rise and shine!!" 

 

Then it's "Q.  Now.  Up."

 

Today, I reminded him that he had a super exciting day - a field trip to The Nutcracker and he'd get to ride on a school bus.  That got him up.  He ran downstairs to open his advent calendar. 

 

Then he chattered away the whole way to the babysitter...

 

"Mommy, how many sleeps til Christmas?"

 

"I think Santa starts delivering presents at 1 am.  Do you think so?"

 

"I love spending Christmas Eve with Daddy because we go skating and stay up really late - but not too late, because Santa comes.  We watch where Santa is on the Santa Tracker and we play Monopoly."

 

I dropped him off at the babysitters.  He gave me a big hug.  I said "I love you!" and kissed the top of his head.  He said, "I do too!!"

 

It was just another day.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  Certainly not super special. 

 

Today, parents in Newtown, CT took their children to the babysitters, to school just like any ordinary day.  Their children excited for a visit from Santa, maybe a field trip on a school bus.  Kisses on foreheads, whispers of "I love you!" in little ears.

 

It is horrific and tragic that some of these children did not go home today.  I cannot even begin to imagine the devastation these parents must be going through; their lives never the same.  A huge hole in their hearts, their child gone too soon.

 

Today there are three specific children I think of that did not go to school because their little bodies are battling tumours and the ill effects of chemo and radiation.  Modern science has nothing left to offer.   "I love yous" are precious and plenty and kisses are never ending.  Prayers are constant.  Every time I think of them, I lose my breath, because I cannot fathom anything worse than watching your child, no older than 5 or 7, die before you, helpless to do anything but pray for a miracle.

 

My heart breaks every time I think of these children and these families.

 

Every morning for me is an *extra* ordinary morning because I have been blessed with a healthy little boy, who right this very minute is safe and sound.  He's happy.  He's not scared or worried.  I can say with confidence that I know he will wake up tomorrow, healthy, happy and safe.

 

And I am so grateful.

 

I hope and pray that I never take for granted the ordinary mornings.  The cuddles.  The kisses.  The talks.  The laughs.  The games.  The school plays.  The spelling tests.  I pray that I never take for granted the awesome responsibility that has been bestowed upon me - raising up my beautiful boy.  It makes things like *things* and money so completely irrelevant in comparison.  I have a gift that has been horrifically stolen from far too many, far too soon.  With every grateful prayer I say for my son, I will pray for peace for those who have gone, for those who long for little fingers and tiny kisses.

 

I am overwhelmed with sadness tonight for those robbed of their little blessings, taken to heaven far too soon.  Tonight when you tuck your babies in and kiss them goodnight, say a little prayer for those mourning the loss of their children.

Lessons at Middle Age

I've learned something about myself recently - which in and of itself is pretty amazing considering how old I am.  You'd think that by the time you hit 35, you'd know everything there was to know about yourself.  Evidently this is not the case, because I just had a pretty big life lesson.

Feeling as though life was passing me by, that I was wasting my nights away with my nose in a book, or blogging, or watching "Greys Anatomy" - I resolved to take on more projects.  I was going to be busy.  Life was going to be hectic.  Every moment from dawn to dusk would be filled - it was going to be great.  I was going to feel useful and productive and a real live contributing member of society. 

And it's not like it's any big deal.  I mean people do it all the time and they thrive.  They're the better for it.  I was so excited.  There are two people who come to mind immediately who are constant over achievers and they LOVE it.  You two, you know who you are.  I am amazed by how much they fit into a 24 hour period.  I wanted to be just like them. 

At Q's school, I volunteered to be the 'Emergency Preparedness Coordinator', Editor of the PAC (they don't call it the PTA anymore...it's the PAC - Parent Advisory Committee) newsletter (monthly distribution to 245 families), and I also volunteered to organize a Christmas craft for 66 children at a Christmas Craft night at the school.  This involved cutting out and sewing together by hand 66 felt coffee sleeves. 

Next, I joined a book club.  I was super excited about this.  A whole bunch of ladies sitting around discussing a great read, drinking wine and eating appies?  Seriously, what could be better??  Nothing much in my books.

Q has soccer twice a week and skating lessons on Tuesday.  Tack on a half an hour to an hour a day practicing for his spelling test on Friday (by Thursday night we were still spelling Invisible, i-l-l-i-s-e.  There were tears and I don't think they were Q's).

Christmas at the Post Office is always a little...hectic (and that is putting it mildly).  It's pretty much a given that I will work 6-7 days a week for the month of December.  This is the deal.  Co-workers post statuses on FB about not being contactable for a month and not to start looking for their body or knocking their front doors down.  The thing is, I love being super crazy busy at work.  It makes the day go by fast.  I feel useful.  I feel smart!

I was busy seven days a week. Busy, busy, busy.

Turns out, I do not thrive being busy all the time.  Turns out, I am the type of person who thrives being at home in the evening reading a good book, watching a t.v. show or two, imparting my wisdom on my blog and getting an average of 9-10 hours of sleep a night.

Seriously.

I had four loads of clean laundry sitting on my couch for a week because I didn't have time (or was too exhausted) to fold it.  I hadn't grocery shopped in weeks and just ran to the store for essentials like milk and bread.  The house was a mess.  Q was eating Chef Boy-R-Dee or McDonald's for dinner like every night.  Christmas cards that I pride myself in making every year had gone unmade.  My blog was neglected.  My friends were neglected.  My life was in disarray.  I was in a continual state of agitation and panic.  

The rush I get from being busy at work is not the same rush I get from being busy in LIFE.  

I haven't read a book in months.  I had to bail on the book club.   I bought store made Christmas cards and have been carrying them around in my purse for a week now, hoping to find the time on my lunch break to write "Merry Christmas, Love C and Q!!"

I learned my lesson. 

I am not an over achiever.  I am an achiever.  That is it.  I love having my nose in a book whenever I get a free moment.  I love writing on my blog.  I love having a clean house, with clean clothes.  I even really like making Q a healthy meal for dinner and having time to clean it up afterwards.  I love, love, love sleeping - and functioning on 6 hours is NOT an option. 

I cannot change who I am. Well, I guess I could...if these qualities were really super bad or destructive.  But I think in this case I'll just roll with it.  I don't want to run myself ragged for the rest of my life.  I want to be happy.  I can take on a volunteer project here and there, sure.

But my number 1 priority right now, is raising a healthy, happy child.  And the best way to do that is being healthy and happy myself. 

And by actually being there, present.  That's pretty important too.

I guess an old gal really can learn new tricks.

Q-isms Christmas Style

Getting Q to read every night before bed is always a struggle. 

"But I already know how to read," is his argument.  So do I, but I still read all the time.  I'm trying to pass on my love of reading - the beginning of an exciting, new world - but he'll have none of it.  He doesn't understand my passion, especially when I can do the reading for him.  One particular night last week, he was really putting up a fight.  He would read a word perfectly in one sentence and then suffer from instantaneous amnesia and totally forget the word in the next.  Finally, I had enough.  We put the book away and turned out the lights. 

I could hear him whimpering, so I asked what was wrong.

Q:  I'm gonna be on the naughty list for sure!! *sob*

Me:  Well, what do you think you can do to change that?

Q:  Nothing.

Q:  It's too late.  *BAWL*

Me:  I don't think it's ever too late to start behaving well.  Why do you want to be good?  So you can be on the nice list?  Or so you can be a good person? 

Q:  So I can be on the nice list.

*Silence*

*Sniff*

Q:  ....aaaaaaaaand so I can be a nice person...

He gets two points for being smart. 

And "Santa" already bought all the presents, so he's spared for this year.  This year, which will probably be the last year, he believes in Santa.

T'was the Night/Early Morning Before the Night Before

Oh...come on...it's funny...

On the day before Christmas, my employees gave to me:


Pearl Drop Earrings
An Engraved Key Chain
Cookies just for Q
SJP Perfume
Chocolate Cranberry squares

A *Starbucks* Card

Butter Pecan Tarts
Yummy Samosa’s
Macadamia Cookies
Homemade Shortbread
A Secret Santa Present

And they all stayed awake for 8 hours (spoke too soon...bugger, it totally rhymed too……)

Only three more business days and I will be moving to a new building, with new employees. Every day since I accepted the transfer, I have questioned whether or not it was a good move.

Remember how afraid I was that no one would like me here? How I wouldn’t learn the job fast enough? How I wouldn’t get enough sleep? Well, the one valid worry was the sleep, and I wonder if that’s enough of a reason to solidify a whole decision. The employees in my section have over 300 years combined experience. Do you know what that means for a Supervisor? It means that I have to do very little to manage the process, because it’s a huge insult telling a person who’s been with the company longer than I’ve been alive how to do their job. There’s always one in every crowd, so I have to tell one or two what to do, but mostly my job here consists of managing the people. This really is a good thing for me, because I am a people manager, process smocess I always say. After a super stressful (in a good way, though) job before this one, it’s been nice to sit back and erm….work very, very hard, as always…(phew! Nice recovery, huh?)

And I didn’t know how I’d get along with the other supervisors on this shift, either. I was surprised to find out that the majority of us are the same age with young children, so we always had something to talk about. The pretty supervisor I share my *office* (okay, my office is two desks behind a bright yellow railing, whatever. It’s my *virtual office*) well, he’s just so funny. We laugh and laugh, sometimes so hard that tears are streaming down our faces and our tummy’s hurt. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.

Staying here wouldn’t be so bad. In fact, it wouldn’t be bad at all. There’s even the off chance that I could run into my old employees and then I don’t feel homesick for them. One or two (or five or ten) really stand as a testament to how often we misjudge people, how much people can change when given the opportunity, and how being part of a motley crew just isn’t that bad at all. Before I went to the dock, I was told that “those guys” were scary and I wouldn’t like them at all.

I’m reminded that all my fears about my new job in the new building are completely ridiculous and unfounded. Quite honestly, I’m more afraid of how I’ll find the front door than I am about my new employees. Seriously, I googled the new building, so that I would know where it was, and it’s fricken huge, I don’t know how I’m going to find my way to the bathroom, let alone my new work area. That’s the only real thing I’m worrying about right now…which probably isn’t even “real” because I’m sure they have signs with arrows….right?

I think we totally undervalue the importance of a good night’s sleep. We really do. It’s horrible waking up tired every single day, and day dreaming about your pillow and your duvet. I’m grumpy all the time (poor Q), and I snap at the most ridiculous things. Sometimes, I just put my head in my hands because I’m so tired, I don’t know what to do. Do I get the Maxi’s with wings or without? You laugh, but I’m so tired, I can’t make a decision to save my life. Paper or plastic? Good thing they don’t as that anymore…but now it’s Bag or No Bag? Here’s a little tip, cashiers around the world: If I have more than 4 items, I’m gonna need a bag.

I might not have as much time with Q, going to days. Someone will have to drop him off and pick him up from school most days, but I truly believe that the quality of time that we have together will be so much better. Right now, I’m “not any fun” and “boring” – hopefully come the New Year, I’ll be “lotsa fun” and “so not boring” because let’s face it…the kid is only 6. If I’m getting eye rolls and “not any fun’s” now…I can’t even imagine what 12 is going to be like.

The gift of acceptance...knowing that you don't know what's before you, but being okay with that.  I think that's what I've learned most this year at work.  In addition to all the tangible gifts I mentioned above, I also received a hand shake, a hug, and the Christmas card I gave one of my employees'...well, it has a spot on his Christmas Tree.  That is a place of honour, if I do say so myself.

What gifts have you received, tangible or otherwise, this Christmas?

Has Panic Set in Yet?

On the third day of Christmas, the company gave to me sixty bucks an hour to supervise. Well, here we are folks…the busiest time of the year at the post office. My employees are all whistling away (I finally yelled, “If YOU’RE ALL GOING TO WHISTLE, AT LEAST WHISTLE THE SAME SONG!” Miraculously, the whistling stopped.) No one has fallen asleep, probably because of the incessant whistling. And in a crazy twist of fate, it’s me that’s trying to stay awake. If you’re like most people in the world, you’ve sent off your Christmas cards and gifts to all your loved ones around the world (complete with correct postage, of course). If you’re like me…you’re utterly shocked to find out there are only 12 days and 19 hours until Christmas.

How did this happen?  I'm NOT ready.  At all.

Here is an interesting little tidbit of trivia for you...  If you have relatives in South America, you should have sent them their Christmas card by November 29, and their parcels by December 1. Have no fear though, because for a small fortune, you still have until December 17 to get them there. If your relatives live in Africa, you have until Wednesday. Now, I’m not going to lie. You’ll probably have to sell your internal organs on the black market in order to afford it, but that’s *somebody’s* fault for not planning ahead.

Would you like some little tidbits on how to get your mail safely (and timely) from point A to point B? If not, stop reading here.

• Print legibly. It doesn’t matter how pretty that silver pen looks with your calligraphy writing and a snow flake dotting your eye (btw..something I totally would have done pre-post office...), if our machines can’t read it, it will sit for days until we can sort it manually.

• Make Sure the Address is Correct. Seems pretty standard, right? WRONG. We at the post office, are not mind readers (although many of my employees think they are…) Every part of the address is important, so put every part of the address in. The postal code/zip code is probably the most important part of the address, so make sure it’s there and make sure it’s clear.

• Put a Stamp on it. One woman ran out of stamps, so she taped 54 cents to the envelope. This is not okay.

• Do Not Send Cash. Yup…people still do this for reasons I will never understand. No, we're not going to steal it, but chances are yours will be the one card that gets snagged as you put it in the letterbox, run over by a semi truck, and ripped to shreds by a rabid dog that just attacked your mailman. A cheque you can cancel, a $20 bill is gone forever.

• Musical Cards SUCK. Last week, in addition to the humming and whistling, I had to listen to “Jingle Bells” for 8 hours because the card was malfunctioning and just kept playing over and over and over. If you really want to play Jingle Bells for your grandson this holiday season, call him and sing it to him over the phone.

• Give us Time. We’re human too, you know. We make mistakes. One letter going from Vancouver, BC to Vancouver, BC ended up bouncing from one part of the post office to another for 10 days before we actually got it out. It was just a comedy of errors, what can I say? It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. Do you really want Great Aunt Martha to think you forgot her this holiday season? No, I didn’t think so.  Do as I say, and not as I do.  I have an *in* at the post office, so *fingers crossed* my Christmas cards won't get lost when I send them on Monday (or Tuesday...)

Okay, so any further questions? Check out this link…

http://www.canadapost.ca/cpo/mc/personal/holiday/default.jsf

The Tree

After two (!) trips to Wal-Mart for lights that work - grrrr...talk about frustration...what is it about Christmas lights that refuse to work? They've been sitting in a box all year.  They worked last year.  How do they not work this year?  And by the way...putting the lights on the tree is totally the man's job.  Wait...where was I?  Oh ya,  here's the finished product.

And here's a pic of the freak snow storm we experienced last week...

No google images here.  It's all me.  I know, right?  I should quit my day job and maybe take up photography.

Fa la la la la la la la la

There is something about having a child around the holidays that makes me ten times more excited than I normally would.  And I guess I should clarify that when I say *having* a child, I don't mean birthing a child.  I can't imagine any time of the year that would make me excited about that unless storks do in fact deliver 2 year olds.  I mean that having a 6 year old around the house makes things exciting...makes Christmas exciting.  Our house looks like the North Pole opened up and puked in every single room.  To the outsider, it's probably absolutely gawdy, but I don't care.  I think it looks warm and inviting.  I'm sure our electricity bill is going to be through the roof.  Tonight the Christmas tree goes up and the theme will be "home for the holidays".  I've never been one to actually have a theme, you know like those black trees with purple birds and silver tinsel; or the white trees with fluorescent blue and pink balls;  mine have always been homemade ornaments on a beautiful green tree.  Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas with pink and purple and black and white. 

A few changes this year.  Instead of mailing a letter to Santa, Q decided to send him an e-mail.  Welcome to the age of technology, where 6 year olds are sending e-mails to Santa.  Now, I'm not gonna lie, this was way less time consuming for me.  I didn't have to spell every single word out, forget to mail it, and then have to write a letter from "Santa" on Christmas eve and pop it in the mailbox.  I will tell you that was probably the best letter that Q ever received though, the year I forgot to mail his letter.  It was brilliant.  Anyways, not like I'm trying to plug my workplace or anything, but if you'd like to send your Santa note by e-mail, http://www.canadapost.ca/ has a link for kids.  They can write an e-mail to Santa (you have to put in an adult's e-mail address to receive a response), play Christmas themed games, like matching the gifts or helping Santa navigate through the sky to deliver presents.  

Q is also covering his bases, and I'm not sure why he's decided to do it this way, but he's decided to give Santa his requests using different avenues.  In the e-mail, he asked for a Nintendo DS game (that I don't even think exists, but whatever...it's Santa, right?  He can make anything in the North Pole...).  Then his dad's work Christmas party was yesterday, and Santa made a guest appearance - Q asked for the air hockey table.  Next, he wrote a hand written list that included a Webkinz and Beyblades (which I'm still trying to figure out.  Unfortunately, I don't think that *Santa* will be bringing him those this year...)  I'm wondering if maybe he's beginning to question the validity of Santa, and figures that just to be sure, he'll leave little hints everywhere.    Notice that nowhere has he asked for a telescope.  I wonder if I should remind him how much he really, really wants one.

Another change - I haven't made my cards this year.  Between supervising the world, winning the Mother of the Year Award and sleeping, I've decided that it would be a little overkill to make my cards.  I value my sanity, even moreso after losing it a time or two, so instead I bought these cards that *look* like I made them.  It's brilliant,  no one will be the wiser.  Truthfully, I don't make them for everybody else.  I make them for me, it's a creative outlet.  But creativity is at a premium this year, so just be thankful you've received one at all.

Along the lines of sanity, I've decided to throw a Christmas party this year.  There's just something about a big house, gawdy decorations and December that make you want to do just that.  It's going to be small, just a couple of my really close friends who would love a party even if there was laundry in the living room, greeted them in my jammies, and served Macaroni for dinner.  That's what makes it even more rewarding to make little sandwiches and gift baskets and such.  Spending time with these girls rejuvenates me, renews my spirit, and helps me realize we're all a little crazy and that's okay.

So, turn up the Christmas tunes.  If you're in the Vancouver area, 103.5 QMFM and 106.3 Praise FM are both playing all Christmas music All. The. Time.  It's a horrible luxury.  Seeing as how we've been listening to it since the third week of November.  I'm humming jazzy renditions of every Christmas carol ever sung.  Every one who's anyone has done a Christmas Album.  Makes me want to do one too.  Then, maybe then, I will have made it, too.

p.s.  Have you notice the blog has changed for the holidays as well?  What can I say, a girl gets bored working midnights...

Baby, It's Cold Outside

I am of the mind that every story is so much better with exaggeration.  It keeps your audience on the edge of their seat, wanting more.  So, while Vancouver does not look like this...

...the story is soooooo much better if I tell you that I took this picture of my street this morning when I got home from work.  Truthfully, I pulled this one off of google images and it's of a street in Montreal - but I totally have your attention now, don't I?

I grew up in Calgary, where temperatures routinely dipped well below -30 (Celsius)  sometimes -45 with the windchill in the long winter months.  Most school boards have snow days, but in Calgary we had *cold* days where skin froze in less than 30 seconds, they couldn't keep the schools heated, and everyone decided it was too stupid to leave the comfort of your own home.  Vehicles were kept running, some over night, with the fear that they wouldn't start in the morning if turned off.  Snow would fall on to streets and before you could clear it, more would fall...making the roads a virtual skating rink.   

The year before I moved to Vancouver, it snowed every month of the year in Calgary.  This included a freak snowstorm in April that crippled the city in less than two hours.  Drivers were forced to abandon their cars on the side of the road, and in some cases in the middle of the road as the snow fell.  Rescuers wrote *OK* on the car windows, just so everyone knew that there was no one stranded inside the cars.  Today Calgary, Alberta, Canada was the second coldest place in.the.world.  The South Pole came in first at -36.  Calgary was -31. 

All this to say that I'm used to cold.  I'm used to snow.  I lived it for my entire childhood. 

When I moved to Vancouver on November 4, 2003, we watched the temperature change from -27 to +9 degrees as we drove out west.  The day I arrived, I walked to the store in capris and flip flops.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  Initially, I moved to Vancouver for a guy, but we all know how that panned out...now, I tell everyone that I moved here for the weather.

But it's effin' cold out there.  Out here.  It's minus ten degrees Celsius, -19 with the wind chill.  There is snow on the ground that has not melted.  And it has been there since Friday night.  And I'm not even exaggerating.  I'm cold.  The house is cold.  Houses in Vancouver aren't meant for cold like this.  We have towels wrapped around the pipes so they don't freeze.  The windows and walls aren't insulated the way they are in Calgary.  My car, good ol' lil Rosie, who always gives 150% is having a difficult time starting. 

It's a good shove in the arse to get ready for Christmas.  Once again, it's beginning to look like the North Pole opened up and puked in my house.  There are decorations and lights and garlands everywhere you look.  I've even begun my Christmas shopping which is unheard of for me.  I'm the one who starts mid-December and not because I'm a procrastinator (although, I am.)  It's because I just can't keep a secret.  I get so darn excited, I want to give the gifts like right now. 

I told Q that I bought one of his presents (a telescope!!!) and he says, "Oh, is it an Air Hockey Rink?!?!?!?"  and I'm like...."uhhhh, no...."  He laughs and says, "I totally know it is because of the look on your face.  I guessed it!!"  What look?  This look?  Oh ya, that's panic.  An Air Hockey Rink?  What happened to the telescope?  Just last week he wanted a telescope. 

Gah!  Kids!! 

Guess I should ask for a Christmas List...