Fly, little butterfly

My big girl officially started school yesterday.

Eva handled it with her usual aplomb.  She even let us take a few pictures - an operation I would normally compare to chopping off my own appendages with a rusted butter knife.  All we're doing is trying to get a record of her life, and we get treated like we're the paparazzi and she's Britney Spears on her way to another breakdown.

Anyway, yesterday morning she clearly felt she had matured because while I was getting ready (making a half-assed attempt to look presentable to the other parents) she came into the bathroom and leaned against the door jamb.

Eva:  "So...whatcha doing?"

Me:  "Oh, getting ready.  Doing my makeup"

Eva:  (casually)  "So...um...do you think maybe it's kinda important for me to have some this morning?"

Yeah, right.

As if I'll send you off on your first day of kindergarten looking like a tramp.  (note - the "I'm-a-Slut-Red" toenail polish Eva is currently wearing occurred in a moment of maternal weakness).

You know, I don't remember my first day.  I do remember watching a kid eat a bottle of Elmer's glue and then vomiting grey all over his artwork (in some cities, that's considered performance art).  I also remember really loving my teacher, Mrs. Peterson.  But beyond that, my memories of kindergarten are fairly hazy.  

But going back with Eva was SO COOL!

It was so interesting watching her manoeuvre her way through the first-morning stuff.  We trouped into the gym and she had to raise her hand when her name was called...then follow her new teacher to her new classroom.  She had to draw a picture of her summer vacation...she drew a tent and a giant warship with cannons (I remember her going camping with her dad, but I don't quite recall a battle at sea.)

Another interesting part for me was looking around and considering all the potential of these fresh-faced little trolls.  Which kid will be Eva's best friend?  Which kid will torture her by making fun of her name?  Which kid will be the snob?  The athlete?  The clown?  The inappropriate dresser?  (note to self - remove Eva's toenail polish asap)

It almost overwhelms me, thinking about what role my child will take on.  School opens up so many possibilities...so much joy, success, laughter...and yes, occasionally, tears and heartbreak. 

But the first day is over.  

My girl marched up those steps with that piano-sized backpack, smiling and confident as though she had been doing it all her life.  

Fly, my beautiful little butterfly.  We are so very proud of you.  

Trust me...you'll like it.

Okay, I know you're going to laugh at me for making my own granola.
Trust me on this one.
It's worth it.

HOMEMADE GRANOLA (from my friend Laure)

• 3 parts rolled oats
• 1 part sesame seeds
• 1 part sunflower seeds
• 1 part chopped almonds
• 1 part chopped walnuts
• 1/2 part wheat germ
• 1 part coconut

• 1 part raisins, craisins, chopped dried apricots, etc.

For every 10 parts of dry ingredients (NOT including fruit) add 1/2 cup vegetable oil and 1/2 cup honey. Stir until granola is moistened.
Spread on cookie sheets, not more than 1.5 inches thick.
Roast at 250F (120C)...stirring occasionally, until crunchy and brown. It takes about 1/2 hour, maybe more in total.

Cool, then stir in dried fruit.
Store in an airtight jar and use within a week or two.

This is so darned good with yogurt or with milk...some blueberries...we go through it like crazy.

p.s. We replaced the !%@?$&! sump pump and cleaned out the mould. GRRRRRRR.

Naps and monsters

This weekend was the last weekend before Eva starts school.  It was just super - filled with playgrounds, swimming pools, farm-fresh corn and sweet tomatoes.

But the best part, by far happened Saturday afternoon.

We put Adele down for her regular afternoon nap and of course, she went down like a champion.  Eva's not much of a napper now...at five, she's getting a bit beyond needing one.  But this was Saturday afternoon...she had gone to bed late on Friday night...and her grumpy side was rearing its ugly head and BITING OUR FACES OFF just a little too often.

So I convinced her to come lie down with me.

The day was unbelievably hot and humid so she was covered in her customary layer of sweat and sunscreen, just stinking of summer.  We curled up between the cool sheets (400 threadcount Egyptian, on sale at Winners), cuddled up close, and it took only about 30 seconds for her to begin breathing deeply.  

Now, naps with my beautiful little girl have always been one of my life's greatest pleasures.  I always say, "okay, Eva...I think it's time for you and me to take a little walk"  She knows what I mean and may occasionally protest a bit, but she always winds up trotting off to the bedroom.  

I'm telling you, nothing can compare to lying down in the middle of summer, cuddled up with your child, with a slight breeze moving the curtains and the gentle noise of the streets humming in the background. Eva didn't sleep long, but it was long enough to take me back to when she was a baby and we started our weekend nap tradition.  I know these are stolen moments now...that my little girl is getting bigger and very soon she won't nap at all.  So Saturday's little nap just topped me up and made my spirit overflow.  

Speaking of overflowing...(note abrupt change of topic here)

...our basement pump and dehumidifier have failed us.

And failed us in SPECTACULAR fashion.

The pump is located in a corner in the basement where we never go, behind a low section of wall we never really see.  We store some old boxes and suitcases there and have pretty much left it alone for about a year.

Well, we shouldn't have.

This summer has been like monsoon season in Bangladesh.  It has rained at least every second day...and not just slight rains.  It has rained enough that one might consider building a freaking ark.  

We were so, so stupid not to check that corner at least once in the past few weeks.  Because today, when I went downstairs and found a light sheen of water on the basement floor surrounding that corner, I began moving suitcases and boxes.

IT WAS LIKE SOMEONE HAD JAMMED A GIANT STICK OF DYNAMITE DOWN OSCAR THE GROUCH'S THROAT.  AND lit the fuse...AND left his greasy green furry remains spattered all over the bottom of the wall.  I would post a photo if the camera lens hadn't shattered at the sight of it all.  OH THE HORROR.  OH THE HORROR.  OH THE HORROR.

 I just went to the hardware store and bought the most toxic mould-killer I could find (if you know me and bacteria, you'll understand my hysteria) and I am about to go down and do battle.  

I'm a prairie girl.  I'm not used to humidity like this.  I'm not used to mean green bacteria and spores spawning in my home.  If I had a hazmat suit, I'd put it on.  IT'S THAT DISGUSTING.  

If I never post again, you'll know that I lost the fight.

ACK

Wish me luck.  

Assuming pleasure means PINK

Eva and I went shopping for back to school clothes today.

I pulled out an adorable little khaki-coloured dress.  

Me:  "What do you think of this one?"

Eva:  "No, no, no.  Not that one.  I need a dress with MORE PLEASURE"

Uh...right.

Daddy doing double duty

I have to leave for a two day retreat to prep for relaunch of the show.
It'll be fun, but leaving my little family is so darned hard!

Hopefully my colleagues aren't offended when I crawl under the table, sweeping up their crumbs. Or when I helpfully cut their meat into pea-sized pieces. Or when I incessantly repeat my mealtime mantra, SIT ON YOUR BUM AND FACE YOUR FOOD. YES, YOU HAVE TO EAT THE GREEN ONES. I SAID SIT ON YOUR BUM AND FACE YOUR FOOD. YOUR DESSERT IS RIDING ON THIS. YOU DROP THAT ON THE FLOOR AND I SWEAR YOU WILL NEVER GET ANOTHER MEAL IN THIS HOUSE AS LONG AS WE BOTH SHALL LIVE. FOR THE LAST TIME, SIT ON YOUR BUM AND FACE YOUR FOOD. YOU'RE KILLING ME, EVA. KILLING ME DEAD.

What am I going to DO during my meals, for the next two days???
Have adult conversations and quietly enjoy the food?
SAY WHA???

I miss them desperately, already.

Good morning, sweet maggots

Because of my job, I leave the house at around 4 in the morning while everyone else is slumbering silently.  Well, almost silently; Eva snores like a jumbo jet landing on the lawn next door.

Before I head out, I generally slip into the girls' room for a quick goodbye (unless I don't have time because I'm searching frantically for taxi money).   I've always had a sort of superstition about leaving without giving them kisses.  It's as though I think that my goodbye kisses will somehow protect them.  Forget those annoying seatbelts, kid, MAMA'S KISS WILL KEEP YOU SAFE.  Go ahead and jump in the car with that stranger who offers you a Kit Kat...MAMA'S KISS WILL KEEP YOU SAFE.  Dumb, I know, but when faced with the overwhelming stress of sending your little butterflies off into the big bad world, you hold onto any talisman you can find to keep the zillions of daily dangers at bay.

Anyway, I slip in and go to kiss them...Eva snoring gently, Addie in her usual position on her stomach with her hands down by her sides.  They're so beautiful when they sleep...so sweet and soft, and for a brief shining moment, NOT MAKING A MESS.

Now, here is another example of how different my trolls are.  With Eva, I could tie my kiss to a cinderblock and drop it on her head from three feet up, and she wouldn't wake up.  With Adele, I could stand across the street and THINK about kissing her, and she'd wake up.  This morning, she stirred in her crib when I kissed my hand and brushed her head with the tips of my fingers...but she went back to sleep.  Eva, of course, didn't MOVE.

That little moment kept me warm inside for much of the morning.

Violent change of topic - there's a spider THE SIZE OF MY HEAD living in our compost bin.  I swear, that ugly mother builds her web out of TWO-BY-FOURS across the mouth of that bin every single freaking day.   Today I smashed through it with a squishy bulb of fennel and some celery that had miraculously turned to green rope while hiding in the back of my produce drawer.  Hoping she'll finally get the message and GET THE HELL OUT OF MY COMPOST BIN.  Hate those things with a passion normally reserved for flying during thunderstorms and picking soggy turds out of the tub with my fingers.

On that tidy note, I'm off to make supper.  

Ruining my child's future, one duotang at a time

So yesterday I went to buy Eva's school supplies.  I must admit that I stood there blinking momentarily at the cash register, wondering if my poor French skills were to blame for the fact that the total amount due seemed to be MORE THAN THE COST OF OUR HOME. But no, I wasn't lost in translation...we really did need a second mortgage to pay for all this stuff.  No clue how my parents did it with four of us.  Not only that, but finding everything on the list is like searching for the freaking holy grail.  In this case, the grail was a SINGLE YELLOW DUOTANG. 

The handy-dandy school supplies list said she needed - among other things - FOUR duotangs of differing colours...one red, one blue, one green, and one yellow.  The first three were easy enough to find but I swear, that yellow one aged me five years.  I wandered the aisles with my overflowing cart, envisioning what might happen if I sent her to school with one red, one blue, one green, and one ORANGE duotang. 

I could just picture it.   Kids would make fun of her.  She'd be confused and feel bullied.  She'd begin to hate school and would agonize over that moment every day when she had to face that blasted ORANGE duotang.  She'd quit school in fourth grade and become an agoraphobic bum, living in our basement eating chips and flipping aimlessly through the channels.  We'd have to pay for her therapy and cable bills, and would never be able to afford retirement (although now that I think about it, after paying for school supplies, we'll never be able to afford retirement anyway).   OH WHERE ARE YOU YELLOW DUOTANG???  Finally found one (ONE!) hiding under a stack of construction paper pads.  I practically pumped my fist in the air in victory.

Got up early today...started my new gig upstairs in radio!  

Now I know you're thinking that "early" means 5 or something.  NO, no, no, grasshopper....five o'clock is for wusses and babies.  My alarm now goes off at 3:45 am...and let me tell you...3:45 is DAMNED EARLY. 

At that hour, I have to take a taxi to work.  Of course, it was only AFTER I had dialled the number that it struck me: I HAVE NO CASH.  Hoping to find a misguided and forgotten twenty dollar bill, I opened my wallet only to be attacked by moths and tumbleweeds.   This prompted a spectacular round of swearing (silently, mustn't wake the slumbering family) as I tore on tiptoe through the house searching for change.  Raided my husband's wallet, finding enough money to get me about to the end of the block.  Finally I remembered my secret lost-change-found-in-pockets stash down in the laundry room.  And there was enough.  The gods of early-morning radio were indeed smiling on me.

As for tomorrow, not sure what the hell I'll use to pay the driver because everything else we had went to pay for EVA'S BLASTED SCHOOL SUPPLIES.  

One last note...Addie's rash has disappeared.  It was indeed a vaccination reaction.  It's too bad, really...I was starting to like my baby polka-dotted.  It added visual interest.  But SO glad she's better!