Happy feet.

Today on our walk to school the conversation turned to feet - bare feet, sock feet, and shoes.

Juliana took the opportunity to inform me that her Crocs were too small so she needs a new pair. Blue. Or purple. Or orange.

She also needs new high heeled summer shoes. (For what? Does she have something planned that I don't know about?)

On the weekend she needed new indoor shoes for school.

Last month she needed outdoor running shoes.

Before that it was flip flops. (Not because it was hot - there was still snow on the ground - but because she only had the flip from her last pair as the flop was chewed by the dog.....)


Her "need" for shoes makes me laugh. I don't know where she gets it. I still wear the same black shoes that I bought when I returned to work after.....oh, nevermind....

Recently I heard that a co-worker owned 300 pairs of shoes.
300. Pairs. Of. Shoes.
That's almost a different pair of shoes for every day of the year.

How do you remember what you own? Where do you keep them?

I've decided to do my own inventory:

- running shoes (um, for walking..)
- Crocs - one pair for summer and a fuzzy pair for winter slippers
- black sandals
- black slide ons (ancient)
- brown slide ons (slightly newer than the ancient black ones)
- black pumps (worn once)
- sexy black boots (not worn often enough according to Peter)
- Crocs - ballerina flat style - my big purchase for this summer :)
- Birkenstocks with bling buckles (my "good" shoes for summer)
- flip flops

I'm not girly-girl. I love the look of nice shoes on other people, but me? I'll take comfort over style any day.

When she was little, I used to send Juliana to my neighbours to play with her shoes. They were way nicer than mine.

So I guess that Juliana will be the girl with the shoes in our family.

Lots of shoes.

She should start planning her closet now.

Scenes from a long weekend.

Scorching hot sun + Family = A great long weekend.

We worked and we played. Here are some of my favourite moments.

(Note the glaring omission of ice cream photos. Ice cream would obviously be one of my favourites but I didn't have the camera with me. You'll have to take my word for it when I tell you that a gaggle of kids at the Dairy made for a big, drippy mess!)

I'm finished practicing. I'm ready for summer.

A downy escape.

Down duvets - they keep you cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It's remarkable how that works, really. And they're so light. And fluffy. Have you ever experienced an escape of the feathers though? One by one they start to poke through the cover. It's part of the charm of the down, I think.

Early this morning when all were fast asleep at my house something happened.

In my dreams I heard Sheldon's voice.... "mommy? Mommy? MOMMY. Something happened to my duvet. There are feathers everywhere.....I'm even breathing them in."

So I opened my eyes. And there was Sheldon - leaning over me like he has so many times before when he has trouble sleeping - except this time something was different.

This time his head was covered in feathers. So I did what any other concerned, loving parent would do - I burst out laughing.

And then I went to survey the damage.

It seems that the corner of his duvet had sprouted a hole ("sprouted" meaning the dog probably bit the edge off.....) and for the entire night, every time he moved, down pouffed out of the duvet and into the air.

It was EVERYWHERE!

The pillow was covered, his sheets were covered, it had spilled over on the floor. But funniest (to me!) was the hair.

I carefully removed the pillow from its case hoping not to pouf the down anywhere else - those sons of guns can really fly!

We went on to the back deck and had some success removing the fluff from his head. Enough that he moved to the couch to spend what was left of the night.

I, on the other hand, climbed back into my bed giggling. I think that I laughed myself back to sleep just thinking about the sight of 'feathered Sheldon'.

And then 4 hours later I woke up - still laughing - not at Sheldon but at the ridiculousness of all that down in his hair. The ridiculousness of the dog chomping on the duvet. And the ridiculousness of the clean up.

Everytime you so much as breath near those feathers they fly wild. Even though the sheets are changed and the vacuum has been put away, I still keep finding feathers.

Apparently I'm not the only one.

Holy crap!

I'm brilliant.

Did you notice the links on my last post? The ones that take you to Amazon for a description of the books? I figured out how to do that. Me. I'm way closer to being computer illiterate than I am to being any kind of savvy on this thing. And yet look what I did!

You see? I warned you. That's what this blog thing is supposed to be about.

It's the little things.

:)

Making the most of my time.

Don't get me wrong. I don't love to commute. But when we made the choice to leave the City, we also made the choice to keep our jobs. And so the commute was born.

I spend one hour on the train in the morning and again in the evening and I often have many stories to share about train folk. Sheldon, in particular, loves those stories. Those stories, though, are for another day.

What I love about my train time is that it gives me a chance to read - sometimes trashy magazines, sometimes the newspaper, and sometimes books. It's the books that are the real treat. Yup - real books. Not Junie B. Jones, Wimpy Kid or stories by Robert Munsch (hold the crack jokes, please!).

Books for me.


I just finished The Book of Negroes and last night at our premiere Book Club event, a few fabulous women got together to talk about it. (Well, to be honest, first we enjoyed some pot luck snacks that were chosen using the book as inspiration - rum, sugar, blueberries, crab, mangos, cornbread, yams......it was all so delish!) And the discussion was so enjoyable that I can't wait to do it all again in four weeks.

Next up: The Girls.

Round and round.....

Recently, on my morning commute, I was struck by a thought - from the moment that Sheldon had any ability to choose his own toys, and for all the years that he's been able to make his own fun, it's always been about the wheels. And making them move:

the wheels on his stroller and his toy cars,

the wheels on his bike,

his skateboard,



and his scooter.

Before I know it, he'll be asking for the biggest wheels of all.

Yesterday I woke up with a teenager in my house. I'm not sure exactly how it happened except that I let him in back in 1997. His obsession with wheels has always been there. Sure it's evolved a little over the years but, if I look closely, I can still see my little man lying on the ground watching the wheels go 'round.

Happy 13th kiddo.

It's raining, it's pouring.

It's my day off.

It's chilly, it's dark, and now it's rainy.

I've got a list of things to do that is as long as my arm.

So I did what everyone should do on a day like today - celebrate it:

take an afternoon nap.

Heaven.

(You should try it - I won't tell a soul.....)

RIP old friend.

It's been a few years now since Sheldon got his 'new' scooter. Until recently he used it to get to school, a friend's house or around the block. But lately the scooter has become the trick sport de jour - tail whips, bri flips and rockets are all the rage. With his birthday coming up he has picked out a new scooter and we've already bought it - early, if you can believe it - ready for his birthday at the end of this week. That was the plan anyway.

Lately he has been trying to find new wheels for his old friend but he's come up empty handed at every store that he's tried. The wheels are worn down, cracked and chunks have started to fall off, but still he rides. Tonight Peter and I realized that he's used hockey tape to hold the back wheel together - it makes for a smoother ride he says. We exchanged a look and then Peter threw him the keys and told him to open the back of his truck. Sometimes birthdays need to come a little early.


Goodbye old friend. It's been quite the ride....

Nercited.

For awhile now I've been toying with the idea of starting a blog. A place to share some of life's little things from my point of view. I have to admit though - I've been a little nervous to put myself out there. I'm not a writer (grammar was never my thing...) but I enjoy telling stories and this blog might be just what I need to exercise my creative energy which just doesn't have much of an outlet anymore.

Nercited = Nervous + Excited. Juliana coined that phrase this winter before she tried skiing. And it's something that perfectly describes how I feel about starting this. So today I'm jumping in with two feet. I'm ready to "publish post" and see what happens. Maybe I'll have three or four people reading me. Maybe not. Either way - I'm good.



There's a big 'ole world out there. A big world where big things happen. A big world where big things happen that can really lift you up. Or weigh you down. We don't think anything of sharing the big celebrations but when the big things feel like the world is weighing on your shoulders we need to remember to look for the little pleasures in life. The things that can sometimes be so easy to miss - the little things that make us smile.