Late Long Weekend Recap

I just realized I haven’t shared any Easter pics yet. I don’t really have many—it’s pretty hard to convince a toddler who’s hopped up on chocolate to pause and pose for pictures.







We took a very big step this weekend. We went to Kingston Friday, and came back by ourselves Saturday for the Foo Fighters concert (the Easter bunny kindly came Saturday morning so we wouldn’t miss the excitement). This is the first time Cakes has spent the night in someone else’s house without us. It didn’t bother her one bit. Her godparents were also there, and she was spoiled rotten all weekend. Then her grandmother brought her home on the train. Very exciting. I got a little stab when I saw her name on her very own ticket.

We didn’t take full advantage of the empty house on Sunday. We tried to sleep in, but I just can’t sleep past 8:00 anymore. I was too sore and hungover from the Foos for any nookie. We did manage to get for brunch for the first time in ages, to Edward Levesque’s Kitchen. It was wonderful--I highly recommend it. I also went there for dinner during Winterlicious, and it was fab too. There’s just no reason to leave Leslieville anymore.

After brunch, I spent hours and hours hunched over my second last term paper. Fucking hell, am I ready to be done with term papers.

As nice as it was having a quiet house, I sure was glad to have my gal home. And I think she missed us just a wee bit too.




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Two Day Foos Hangover

I’m getting old. It’s two days after the Foo Fighters concert, and my neck still hurts. My throat is sore. During the show, I actually shushed the girls next to me when they talked during Dave’s Everylong solo.



But the show was worth it--the Foos were magnificent, as always. We were nicely surprised when a third of the way into the show, a second stage dropped down from the ceiling. The band ran to the new stage and resumed playing, making our cheap-ish seats suddenly rather front and centre!

The other big surprise--Rush!



Right after I go to a concert, I get a hankering to see more. Anyone have anything coming up? Is anyone going to Leonard Cohen? I think I’ve already missed out on those tickets.

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Hey, do you know about this:



It's going to be so much fucking fun. You should go.

Surrounded By Idiots

I think Cakes’ teachers think she has a couple of idiots for parents.

Her preschool always has these lovely activities planned, which McHotty and I always manage to screw up. Many of the other parents went all out for Halloween and Christmas--we did nada (who the hell has time to make individual goodie bags for 20 kids? Well, obviously, lots of people do). I barely managed to remember to do her Valentines last month. I always forget about pajama day. So I’m just being consistent when I fuck up Easter.

There was a note in her locker a couple of days ago asking us to bring in a hard-boiled egg, and some treats for her teachers to hide for an Easter hunt. Cakes is staying home with her Grandma today, so we had to send the treats yesterday. McHotty and I went shopping the other night, and bought a big bag of jujube bunnies (because we like jujubes), but when we got them home, my mother pointed out that since they’re unwrapped, they’d be hard to hide around the classroom. Oops. Oh well, a little lint never stopped a toddler from eating a candy.

I managed to remember to boil the egg. Luckily, we had a single egg left in the fridge. I put it on to boil, and sat down with my book. A half an hour later, McHotty discovered it on the stove--cracked of course. It was too late to buy more eggs, so we sent her with the cracked one, and pretended it happened on the way. Oh, shame on us.

McHotty took her to school yesterday, and managed to remember to take the big bag of jujubes. Unfortunately, he neglected to give them to her teachers, and left them in her knapsack. Cakes didn’t forget about them. During naptime, she smuggled them into her cot and handed them out surreptitiously. That’s my girl--not even three and giving out contraband goodies on the sly.

When I picked Cakes up at the end of the day, I was a star. Several toddlers surrounded me excitedly: “hi Cakes’ mommy! Cakes’ mommy! Candy! Yeah, Cakes’ mommy!” Oy.

I will be buying her teachers a very nice Christmas present this year.

Whew!

It was an eventful week, and I’m just getting caught up on writing about it, so I guess I’ll just spew it all out in one big post.

The other day I had my first meeting at our downtown offices with a bunch of the Very Important People. I donned the sole suit in my closet, and left far too early (I’m obsessive about punctuality). I was a bundle of nerves. But once things were underway and I relaxed, it was quite exciting, and I had this epiphanic moment where it sunk in that I’ve actually finally found the right career. I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to sit in a meeting where people are proud, and excited about their products. It is the complete opposite of the tortuous IT meetings I used to have to sit through, practically nodding off from boredom, only to be wakened by the CEO yelling at us. Seriously. It is lovely to sit in a room with people who are respectful and have a sense of humour.

After the meeting, I just wanted to go home and read all our books, but I needed to prepare for our student colloquium, which I helped organize. It was a two-day conference, and the topic was “Apocalypse”. I think it was a great success—the papers were fantastic, and we had folks come from several other universities, as far away as Montreal and Buffalo. Last night we finished with a speakers’ dinner, then we hit the pubs. Unfortunately shots of whisky were involved, and I’m paying for the good time today. The conference lessened my dissatisfaction with academia a little—the students were really inspiring—but it also really pissed me off, because no faculty bothered to show up. Not a single one. Our keynote speaker (who’s not from our university), attended the Friday night pub, two days of conference and the dinner last night. He even lasted through the shots. But not a single fucking member of our own faculty could make an appearance. It’s a shame. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful event.

So after all this gallivanting about, today I’m trying to make up for it with Cakes. She had a bit of a tough week—the first couple of weeks I worked, we had her grandparents here to help ease us into the new routine. This was the first week of the new ‘normal’ and Cakes was not happy. A couple of my days started with trying to flee the preschool while she clung to my leg, shrieking and crying. I had a huge case of mommy guilt. The other night Cakes solemnly declared, “I want you to stay home mommy.” So I explained to her, “mommy likes to go work babe. And it’s good for me.” She looked thoughtful, perhaps not 100% satisfied, but she accepted it. And then she asked me for a cookie. She’s not stupid—if she has a guilty mommy, she’s going to milk it for all it’s worth.

Third Semester Blues

For the past month or so, as I near the end of my studies, I’ve had this nagging feeling of déjà vu. This morning it hit me—graduate school is like pregnancy.

For the first couple of months, I was excited and anticipatory. Then, a little insecure and overwhelmed. I felt nauseous some mornings.

After a difficult start, I had a honeymoon period. The nausea ceased, I had adjusted to the new routine, and was feeling more confident. I wanted to have sex again.

Now I’m feeling the weight of my responsibilities, like the 60 extra pounds I put on when I was carrying Cakes. I have constant heartburn. I can't sleep. I just want to crawl in my bed with the new Sophie Kinsella.

All this, and not even the consolation of big knockers. Oh, and the baby part.

Is it May yet?

I Badly Want to Read You

I am continuing to be tormented at my new job by tons of books I don’t have time to read yet.

I’m hearing lots of good things about Gods Behaving Badly. Here’s a brief description, from the book jacket:

Being immortal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Life’s hard for a Greek god in the twenty-first century: nobody believes in you any more, even your own family doesn’t respect you, and you’re stuck in a dilapidated hovel in North London with too many siblings and not enough hot water. But for Artemis (goddess of hunting, professional dog walker), Aphrodite (goddess of beauty, telephone sex operator) and Apollo (god of the sun, TV psychic) there’s no way out… until a meek cleaner and her would-be boyfriend come into their lives and turn the world upside down.

I’m adding this one to my nightstand. I have three more copies for the first three Canadians to email metro[underscore]mama[at]hotmail[dot]com.

How Embarrassing

The other night in class, one of my colleagues was giving a presentation on a poem about the Middle Passage. It’s a brutal poem, and we were all appropriately sombre.

However, the speaker was rudely interrupted by a very loud Canadian ditty:

coo-roo-coo-coo-coo-coo-coo-coo!

coo-roo-coo-coo-coo-coo-coo-coo!

My friend sitting next to me frantically fumbled for his cell. It doesn’t get worse than that.

Actually, it does. When I saw Salt Water Moon a few weeks ago, a very quiet, two-person play, someone’s phone went off. Many of us turned and shot daggers at the culprit. He deserved to be singled out.

My embarrassing moment came yesterday. I was in one of my first meetings at work, sitting right next to a VP when my stomach started growling, deafeningly loud. I tried to do the strategically timed clearing of the throat trick to cover up the sound, but I don’t think it worked.

Cakes is embarrassing me a lot lately with her new favourite habit—picking her nose. We’ll be sitting on the bus, and I’ll see someone looking at her. At first I assume they’re admiring her beauty, until I see a frown forming. Sure enough, I look down and she’s playing with a big booger.

Anyone else having this problem? What do you do? Some people say to ignore it, but I just can’t! It’s so fucking gross!

P.S. Did I spell coo-roo-coo-coo-coo-coo-coo-coo right?