Wine Tasting and the Ogopogo

A while ago, David and I were talking about creating a wine blog about BC wines. We still might do it. I'll let you know if it happens. I'll post big banners on my site. We'll get some flashy site design going. We'll give you the real low-down on those wines. Nothing filtered. Nothing compromised. Straight from the cork (screw top is better), to our mouth, to your RSS feed.

But right now we're practising. Getting ready for the big site launch.

What I'm really trying to say is that we're drinking. A lot.

Taste testing as it were. A lot.

We brought reinforcements to the BC wine region this year (better known as the Okanagan). My parents, my in-laws, our French friend and his mom (visiting from France). The kids are here too, but are stuck with formula and apple juice. They seem happy. We're definitely happy. Life is good.

You may have noticed that I've been absent from blogging and commenting. (Don't tell me if you haven't noticed at all.) But I've been warned about drinking and driving a laptop. So for now I'm settled back with a glass of Nk'Mip Pinot Noir, gazing at the lake and waiting for the Ogopogo to join our party.

Heard Around the House Lately

Nate: Let's get this show on the grass.

Me: I think you mean "on the road".

Nate: No!! I mean on the grass. It's my way of saying it.

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Nate: I wanna be just like you when I grow up.

Me: Oh, that's nice honey. Thank you.

Nate: Yeah. Then I can reach all the treats on the high shelves. 'Cause when you're little, you can't reach any of the treats. And it's not nice.

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Nate: No, my mommy can't come to the phone right now.
...
Nate: She's in the bedroom with Jacob.
...
Nate: I'm not allowed to talk to her right now. She said in 5 minutes.
...
Nate: How's your trip? Are you bringing me a treat?
...
Nate: I said she's busy with Jacob in the bedroom. I miss you. Where are you daddy? Did you take your scooter? When are you coming home?
...
Nate: MOOOOOOOOOOOM. Phone.
...
Me: Hi honey, how's your trip going?
...
Me: Oh! Oh. Oops. Yes, we'll be here at 2pm for the sofa delivery.

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Nate: I'm all done lunch. I should be excused?

Me: You mean, "May I be excused?"

Nate: I should be excused?

Me: Can you say, "May I be excused?"

Nate: MOOOM! That's what I said! I should be EXCUSED?

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Lately everything's been punctuated with MOOOOOOM and "You're so silly" and ends in an exclamation mark. And he's very concerned with correcting me at every possibility: "That's not a potty; it's a toilet!" or, "That's not a truck; it's a mighty machine!"

I wasn't expecting this until he was 13.

You Are What You Eat

David's away again. This successful business stuff is great and all that, but yeesh, it would be nice if he didn't have 2-3 business trips a month. It leaves me no time to eat bonbons and paint my toenails.

So, given that, I have chosen to recycle some more weekend pictures. My brain's too fried to think of a coherent post.

Like any good baby, Jake continues to shove everything into his mouth at an alarming rate. He chokes several times a week and I am forced to fish hook sweep his mouth several times a day. No matter how many times I sweep the floor and pick up random objects, he still manages to find something to cram into that orifice.

While we were having a phenomenal, gourmet weekend, Jake was dining on my herbs.

** I'd like to make a side note at this point to say that all the pots of herbs and flowers and my hanging baskets are still very much alive.

Now, when I lived in Mexico for two years, I learned to love cilantro. It was in everything. I came home for summer holidays and, in turn, put it in everything. My parents kindly requested that I stop using it so much. Stop using it at all.

"Ridiculous!" I thought. "They don't know what's good for them."

Finally, they told me that they thought it tasted awful. It made everything taste soapy. They appreciated my cooking for the family, but STOP. PUTTING. CILANTRO. IN. EVERYTHING.

I've since been told that this is a not uncommon reaction to the herb; it's believed to be genetic. And that's why I told you that story. I think Jake's inherited their taste genes for cilantro. Observe:








He even did the fish hook sweep himself.

Now, if only I could convince him to think the same way about dog food.

The May 2-4

I can post about the long weekend on Wednesday, can't I? Yeah, this blog is nothing if not topical, early-breaking news. Okay. Whatever.

Living overseas for 6 years gave me a great appreciation for many cultures and people often asked me which country was my favourite. While they all had different pulls, I have to say that Thailand was my favourite when it came to national holidays. If you wanted to, you could take a national holiday day 363 days of the year. And they all had these deliciously unpronounceable names that were 29 characters long. (If you've ever seen a Thai name written out, you'll know what I mean.)

But regardless of what you think about national holidays, they are not all created equal, not even here in Canada. Think about it. As a kid, did you equate Christmas with Labour Day? No way. One is the celebration of a guy in a fat suit who brings lots of presents; one is the harbinger of school. (Okay, I actually liked school, but I think I was in the minority.)

So we just had Victoria's Day, better known as the May 2-4. In Ontario, we loved this holiday. As kids, it was firecracker day. As teens, it was car camping with beer. Cases of beer in Ontario are known as 2-4s. I quickly discovered out here in BC that not only does everyone not really care about the holiday and there are no fireworks, but, more importantly, they have no idea what a 2-4 is. Here, it's called a "flat" of beer. What the heck? A flat is an apartment. Don't they know anything out on the West coast??!

Anyway, we had warm sun for most of the weekend and took full advantage. We sat on the patio and drank beer.



While the kids were put to work.



And we got family tattoos. What any normal holiday celebration entails.





Okay, fake tattoos. It was the Children's International Festival, and great fun. Jake slept through most of it, but Nate had a great time watching Les Parfaits Inconnus (from Montreal), doing obstacle courses, making kites, getting his face painted, and eating cotton candy bigger than his head. Overall, a success.

It's a Holiday

While we are enjoying the long weekend, I thought I'd quickly post Nate's foray into photography. He pushed the button to take this photo.

Just a Brief Interlude to ask...

Why does Jake, after gagging and puking twice yesterday on pine cones, shove two more into his mouth today?

Why is this house surrounded by 100 food cedars with more tiny pine cones than I can ever hope to spot before he does?

Why don't I learn that after resuming tennis after a four year break, I am going to be one mass of sore muscles the next day?

Why didn't I think that gardening for two hours after a one hour tennis lesson might have been a bit much?

Why is it so easy to grow weeds and so hard to grow flowers (unless dandelions count)?

Why does my three year old now reject (think temper tantrum) the sunscreen he begged to put on himself last year?

Why do little babies like to get up at 5:30am? What's wrong with 7:00?

Why does my PVR refuse to tape Lost as a series recording? And why can't I tape minus the commercials? (Can we get TiVo up here?)

Why am I here instead of outside in the glorious 35 degrees Centigrade weather?

See ya folks! I'm outta here.

The Evolution of Jake and Nate: Part One

Sometimes I find it hard to believe that Jake's been around for 7.5 months already. And at other times, it feels like his infancy was years ago. I barely remember that newborn who slept all day.

Jake, as the second child, is miles beyond where Nate was at this stage. That makes it sound like Nate was slow, and he wasn't. But he wasn't ahead of the curve either. He crawled for a few weeks at 11 months, but really showed no interest in moving around. He would contentedly spend hours in the same spot of the living room with some favourite toys. He was so unadventurous in that way that we never had to baby proof the house. He didn't chew on one cord, touch one socket, or open one cupboard on his own. In many ways, he was a dream baby.

I had no idea how easy I had it.

Jake on the other hand, well, that's a different story.

He's been crawling since 4 months. He's been trying to stand up for the past month. He's now pulling himself up and getting ready to furniture surf.

He sticks every available item in his mouth: fluff, pieces of paper and plastic, dog food and pine cones tracked in from the patio. He chews on every cord in sight, pulls the CO monitor from the socket, spills the dog's water bowl, and heads for the top of the stairs at every available opportunity.

Nate refused a bottle until he was weaned. From week two, Jake took a bottle happily every so often so I could go out for dinner or have a glass of wine. While Nate was calmly fed by us, Jake insists on doing it himself, covering his face, hands, bib, chair and floor with baby food in the process.

Unlike Nate aka "Mr Chill",

Jake never sits still for a moment unless he's ready to drop to sleep. He smiled a lot earlier than Nate and laughs much more easily. Nate was a serious child and is only now coming out of his shell a little more readily. Jake is all personality.


Part of it I know is that as the second child, Jake is struggling to be seen and heard. He idolizes Nate already and while I am the obvious first for Jake's attention, Nate is a close second. His eyes follow Nate everywhere and he wants to do and touch everything Nate does. This is starting to create a little conflict as Nate is not ready to share his "big boy" toys. But Nate's fairly gentle (so far) even though Jake is not much deterred.

In some ways, I wish I could keep them in this moment forever. But I know even better things will come as they grow up together.

Update:

I realized after hitting "publish" that it might seem like I find Jake more interesting or exciting. Rest assured that this is not at all the case. I actually started this post about Jake, changed ideas part way through (like any good writer, no?) and decided that I would do a part two post focusing on Nate tomorrow or Friday. Stay tuned to read more about his fabulousness later!

Cycles

The past three weeks have been a bit of a blur. The boys have been sick off and on the entire time. First Nate had a cold and gave it to Jake. Jake got pink eye from it, which he thoughtfully shared with Nathan. Two rounds of medicine later, everyone seemed to be on the mend, until Nate's lingering cough turned into another cold. Which Jake decided to enjoy too. Nate finally seems on the mend, but Jake is still struggling with snot, round two of pink eye and a cough that appears from 9pm til 5am and then disappears.

Both boys have ended up in our bed for part or most of the nights since this cycle began. Which means that all our hard work sleep training Jake has gone out the window. Which means that Nate is old enough to feel left out when he realizes all the other family members are sleeping in one room and he in another. It also means that we really regret giving up our king sized bed during the last move. Giving up the bed means that our backs are permanently bent and knotted from trying to meld ourselves around kicking, squirming, wheezing, slumbering babies and toddlers. We're averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night. Interrupted sleep.

And all of this means that I haven't got the time or energy during the day to even think about writing, let alone do it. Read other blogs? Forget it. I'm too tired to peer at a computer screen for long.

And all of this also means that David and I have started making up ridiculous house rules at 4am (always the best time for coherent thought). Things like, "Our bedroom will be a kid-free zone. The kids can never enter our bedroom again between the hours of 8pm and 8am." Like I said, well thought out rules.

But hope springs eternal, or some such other cliche. Here's hoping tonight will be a better night. The kids are sleeping in their beds for at least half the night, come hell or high water.

Anyone got a hand basket or an ark?

How I Spent My Mother's Day: A Pictoral Essay

Mother's day dawned bright and early. Jake, now in week 2+ of his cold, spent the night in our bed since running into his bedroom every 20 minutes didn't seem appealing. Of course, having him rub his snotty nose on the pillows, hack, and cry in our bed didn't make for a restful night to say the least.

Picture One: Okay, don't have a picture of that. a) I wouldn't subject you to me pre-shower and make-up, b) Given my three hours of cumulative sleep per night over the last week, I don't think I could operate the camera that early in the day.

After bringing me coffee in bed, I was told to come to the table for homemade crabcakes, with eggs, hollandaise and potatoes. Everything from scratch, including a freshly sqeezed orange juice mimosa.

Picture Two:


Breakfast though, was not without incident. The new Krups Burr Grinder was sacrificed in the making of the bennies. Apparently the warm grill was cosied up next to the grinder resulting in this:

Picture Three and Four:



Next, David took Nate to swimming, and I put Jake down for a nap. I managed to water my four pots of hanging plants and three planters. Nothing has died so far which is a minor miracle.

Picture Five:


When the boys returned, we packed up and headed to Ambleside to fly Nate's new kite. We purchased this yesterday at the Kids' Market on Granville Island. David said there were all kinds of interesting kites like dragons and exotic animals.

Nate went for the ladybug.

But the colours are pretty.

This was Nate's first time flying a kite, so here he is, letting go, learning to hold the string, and feel the pull of the kite.

Picture Six through whatever:









Jake, bored quickly of kite flying, was busy wondering, "What is this thing you call grass?"




And Chilco? Well, I think he had a pretty good time. At least he got to be outside...



Hope you all had a great mother's day too!

Photo Friday

Here's hoping that you play hard all weekend and spend the nights curled up with

someone



or something



you love.

What Not to Wear?

Early this week I learned that the new Olympic outfits for Beijing had been unveiled. Canada used to have a market on cool, at least when it came to Olympic outfits. Roots designed them and they were so hot, they couldn't be kept in the store. Everyone wanted them.

Roots no longer has the contract to design the athletic wear. HBC (Hudson's Bay Company) does. For those of you not familiar with this store, the average age of people shopping in The Bay is 50. On a good day.

All I can say is that the only people who would consider wearing these outfits are blind geriatrics tripping out on old Brady Bunch reruns.

Oh, except our athletes. They'll have to wear them.

Curious? Here they are in all their glory...



The t-shirts aren't much better. They look like beer bottle caps exploding in a mish mash of colourful foam.



Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe these outfits scream Canada. Maybe I'm so far from fashion chic these days I wouldn't know a fashion statement if it hit me in the head.

What do you think?

Oooh Baby, I'm Back in Action

Alrighty. $64.99 later and I have my power cord. Better yet, I can mainline into my addiction. No more panting at the door waiting eagerly for David to come home so I can plug in.

Okay folks, so here it is. As I mentioned, this blogger tagged me with a meme: 6 uninteresting things about myself.

I sat down to write a few ideas down, and after quickly coming up with a list the length of my arm wracking my brain, here it is:

1. I can touch my tongue to my nose. Either I have a freakishly long tongue or nose (you pick), but there you go. It's a winner of a party trick, let me tell you!

2. When I was 11, I went to a now-defunct horse riding camp called Kemur. At the end of my two weeks, I won the award for the person who "fell of her horse the most". Now, somehow that award makes it sound like I sort of just slid sideways off the horse and plopped onto the ground. No. I was a beginner rider on a horse named Spitfire who liked to sunfish or buck in order to get me off so he could run into the alfalfa fields and gorge himself. Who puts a beginner rider on a horse named Spitfire anyway?

3. I'm a talk radio geek. I used to be in love with CBC's Rick Cluft, but three years ago I transfered my affections to CKNW's Bill Good. Yes, David is fully aware of my crush(es). He's seen pictures of these men. He's not afraid.

4. I love arts and crafts. So much so that I have enough supplies to start my own scrapbooking store. One day I may actually use them.

5. I can kill my plants faster than you can say "Miracle-Gro". I refuse to go plastic (can you spell tacky?) but my husband's threatening me with planticide if I don't shape up. (I just realized that there are probably a ton of you green plastic foliage owners out there whom I just offended. But honestly, no matter how many times you tell me that they're "really real", I'll tell you, "You want real? You need some withering leaves adn dead blossoms. That's real.")

6. I am a mystery book reader. It's my "junk food" reading for the summer. Some faves (outside of the classics like Agatha Christie) are Janet Evanovich, Joan Hess, Jonathan Kellerman, Jill Churchill, Sue Grafton, Sara Paretsky, J A Jance. Got any to suggest?

So there you go folks. I'll nudge you back awake and tag the following for this meme:

Mayberry Mom
For a Different Kind of Girl
Juggling Life

Turn Away Readers?

My computer woes have continued. No charge for days on this machine. I've finally wrestled David's cord from him and am holding it hostage. I will have to buy an new one soon.

I am getting over the shakes from 48 hours unplugged. Hasn't been pleasant folks.

I opened up my computer today though to see that I've been tagged by Jennifer for another meme. I used to think she was a nice lady. I used to like reading her blog. But uh uh. No more. She is obviously jealous of my huge readership and wants to drive all blog readers away because she's asked me to post 6 uninteresting things about myself.

Thanks.

It won't be hard. I usually have to struggle to think of interesting things to say.

So, I will go sip my third double-shot latte of the day and ponder this meme. (So it's only 7:12am. Do you have a problem with that??!)

I will also be plotting how to steal my husband's power cord.

Looks like my day is lined up for me.

Back atchya soon folks.

I would like to know how it is that:

• it takes two guys 8 hours, a bottle of shampoo, wet and dry vacuums, leather conditioner and $200 to thoroughly detail my car and it only takes my dog, baby and toddler 30 minutes to undo the job;

• or how it takes David 5 hours to make our slow roasted ribs and spinach salad and only 10 minutes to lick our plates clean;

• I can clean house all day on Sunday and by Monday afternoon, no one would have suspected I'd so much as touched the vacuum;

• every night starts with 2 of us in the bed and ends up with 4 by morning;

• the 2 smallest people in the bed get the lion's share of it;

• I used to be able to laugh about running for an hour and now running for 20 minutes brings tears to my eyes;

• one cold shared between two kids can produce so much snot;

• two kids from the same gene pool can be so different in looks and temprament;

• I can be so lucky to have the family I do (dirty house, car and snotty noses and all).
  

What is it that you wonder about?

Funniest Man Ever

Because everyone in our house under 4 feet is sick with colds, pink eye and fevers.

Because we are all tired and cranky.

Because this man was hilarious without ever uttering one swear word in his act.

'Cause There's No Way You Couldn't Love This Kid

This morning did not start well.

And this was a red letter day for me. Yesterday, I read through the welcome booklet for Nate's preschool. He was just accepted into the all French preschool in our area... the one we were sure we were too far down on the waitlist to get into. But, we did get in. So, I sat down to read about Nate's future, starting September, 2008. On page four of the booklet, there it was: "Noter que l'enfant ne devrait plus porter de couches."

That's French speak for "Your kid's gotta be outta the diapers, dude."

Ah. Sigh. The pigeons have come home to roost.

Nate's been pee-trained for a while now. He has the occasional lapse, but after six weeks of cleaning poop out of underwear, I went back to pull ups. So for the past month or more, we've been back in pull ups because of the #2.

I went so far as to email all my mommy friends with first sons to see what they did. I got a variety of answers and they were quite supportive. Unfortunately, we had already tried quite a few of the ideas.

But in the end, I went with Dr Greene.

Nate got a course of Mineral Oil over the last few days.

And today, he managed to poop on the toilet! He got to eat all his 6 Smartie treat which he's been petting, counting and drooling over for the past two months -- yeah, they're probably a little stale -- and then it happened. The potty (although the success came on the toilet) became his throne. I couldn't peel him off of it for the life of me. He sat on it for 90 minutes waiting for the next poop to come.

When David came home, we convinced him to get off for a while. But he refused pants as he wanted to be able to sit down quickly if the need arose.

So here he is: Captain Underwear! Snotty-faced, snarly-haired, wrong-foot-booted and all. I tell you... how could you not love this kid?