February 15th, the day after Valentine’s I have three assignments due. So as to avoid having to compose essay paragraphs in my head during a candlelight supper at home, I’ve opted to try and get the most of it over this week. It so happened that John downloded entire seasons of The Office last week and convinced me to watch, which led to the sudden realization that I really like the show, and that it has existed for years already. It is kind of like having a child acquire a taste for puréed acorn squash. (True story!) So now, writing assignments are an exercise of superhuman efforts against procrastination of The Office variety. And that is why the posts on this blog are a little fewer and farther between.
Brain cells
February 2, 2010 – 7:00 am
John got a concussion over the weekend, playing hockey at a friend’s. He came home yesterday before noon. Somewhere during the afternoon we had a little conversation…
Me: You might have lost some brain cells!
Him: Not might.
Me: What?
Him: There are studies that show that parts of your brain can die.
Me: (Haha! Then serious.) Does that depress you?
Him: No.
Me: You might have lowered your IQ a few points.
Him: Oh. It’s ok. I’ve got lots to spare. 
That’s when I’d have taken back the muffins I gave him out of pity. But he’d ate them already.
In my head
January 29, 2010 – 12:02 pm
Have you heard THE song for Haiti? Well, before you go WHAT? in font, size 16, let me tell you, I don’t listen to this kind of music. Not usually. But it came on the radio. So, I told Christian. Then we looked up the lyrics, and felt like the first verse was a prayer. And I didn’t know Jay-Z prayed. Then I told John that for the record, this might be the first rap song I’m able to swallow. And John gave me a 3 minute lesson on the differences between rap and hip hop.
Why Marie-Hélène is so small
January 27, 2010 – 7:00 am
For Marie-Hélène’s check-up and shots last week, I went alone with her for the first time, mustering up the nerve to hold her down for her shots. As it happened, that part was not the hardest. Sure she yelled and pretty blue tears fell from sad blue eyes, but it was rather quickly forgotten. Even waiting for the doctor wasn’t hard… the clinic must have collectively passed a New Year’s resolution to attend to its patients faster, and we were given a form to write down the times between arrival, weighing, visits from the doctor and nurse, and departure. We were through before Marie-Hélène could decide to lick the blood pressure cuff that dangled beside her bed. All of that was a piece of cake. By far, the hardest part was carrying her, in her car seat, to and from the clinic. After feeling like my shoulders had permanently moved forward to make an oval of my back, I’d decided that I must get around to picking up an exercise routine… And although firming up would be a definite advantage, it would be a mere bonus to being able to carry Marie-Hélène, carseat, diaper bag and purse, without looking a little pathetic. Without keeping my eyes peeled for any form of shopping cart or wheel chair just to get to the machine that pays for parking. Without wanting to put her down and start crying if people get in the way.
“But why should you complain? She’s so small!” Yes, I know. So does the doctor. In fact, I’m almost certain the carseat is double her weight. And the fact that she’s so slim mystefies our pediatrician. He’s young. I’ve begun to think he’s never seen anything like it. He asks us how much she eats and concludes that she certainly has enough calories. She also sleeps her nights. She also sits. Those milestones, she meets them and gives them high fives. But he still wonders.
And Marie-Hélène is keeping it a secret. She doesn’t tell him we make her stretch before swimming laps in the sink:
Or that we exhaust her with all the sounds the animals make, before bed:
Or even that we ask her to fold her own laundry:
So, as far as he knows, Marie-Hélène is a medical mystery.
Snowed In
January 26, 2010 – 9:44 am
After multiple snowfall warnings over the weekend, and blizzard warnings for Sunday night, it finally happened… We got some 20 centimeters of snow blown about into artistic white drifts, which became Christian’s workout after school.
Jack Frost
January 21, 2010 – 4:00 pm
We’ve had some unusually warm weather… whereas January usually brings successive days of -30 degrees, we’ve had -5’s instead. It’s good for walking, and for magical mornings like this…
Prunes
January 20, 2010 – 6:05 pm
Is there anything, besides chocolate, that is quite as brown as prunes?
She’s learned that rolling gets her places, including underneath our furniture. I raced downstairs to grab the camera, hoping to show you just how perfectly she fits, but she’d already decided it was time to roll on…
because there are just so many things to lick…
Reading
January 19, 2010 – 7:00 am
My head is in “The Stone Angel” by Margaret Laurence, racing through pages between the moments when Marie-Hélène is awake. I sit on the couch in front of the tv – tuned to some musical channel – while Christian burrows through piles of elementary projects. Occasionally, I’ll read him a sentence or two. “The poplar bluffs had budded with sticky leaves, and the frogs had come back to the sloughs and sang like choruses of angels with sore throats, and the marsh marigolds were opening like shavings of sun on the brown river where the tadpoles danced and the bloodsuckers lay slimy and low, waiting for the boys’ feet.” It made me laugh – the angels with sore throats. Christian said he could hear them.
Cards for sale
January 14, 2010 – 7:00 am
I’m a terrible salesperson. Selling things is not part of my biology. I get all clammy, and if the person shows a hint of hesitation, I want to give them a chilled lemonade and a fresh cookie and say “I understand! I’m sorry for your time. Can we forget this all happened?” Because that moment of hesitation as excuses come to mind, I would like to disapear. That talent of being able to talk someone into doing something, is not mine. That is why I don’t make things to sell. I’m far too shy. I’d end up bankrupt, giving everything away for free.
So, you understand why I admire entrepreneurs. Which brings me to my sister. I think she bought all our Christmas presents from the sales of her cards. She drew them by hand, phoned every printer in Saskatoon to find one with a reasonable printing price and converted her friends into card-sending, sentiment-noting, users of postage stamps. In this wonderful online age of poking people through Facebook, it’s not a small feat. If you want a pack, please, leave a comment.
They’re in french: Joyeux Noel, Félicitations, Merci beaucoup, Bonne fête and Guéris vite! Fifteen dollars for fifteen cards.