here be @ewiller's tweets...They say you can’t take it with you.
Consumerism is bad.
Stuff won’t make you happy.
But…IT DOES.
I see these things in my house, around me – I literally feel joy. I have a physical reaction to certain things while shopping – usually it gets me in a little ball in my stomach. And I feel very lucky to be able to have these things. Things. Sometimes, things are good.
Whoever said money can’t buy happiness simply didn’t know where to go shopping. ~Bo Derek
Caught up on loads of PVR’d showsI’m full of cold, some lingering sinus infection that’s being evil to my throat and making me feel miserable and go to bed early, so I’ve not been getting on the computer in the evenings, and I’m actually having to do real WORK at work (god forbid) so thinking about posts, blogging at all, has been out of my mind altogether.
Since I’ve been back to work, I’ve been expanding my blogroll, so much that the little list to the side of this post is really seriously out of date. I’ve increased my Cancon, which is good and important. I’ve started reading some amazing, articulate daddy blogs (I often forget that men can write, because I am married to a fairly illiterate guy – that’s my small mindedness). I’ve found blogs for meal planning and using the slow cooker. My Google Reader is just full of good stuff – christ — 81 subscriptions. The bad news seems to be more blogs read, less comments made. And Google Reader means you don’t often actually click on the link, losing colour and content.
I’m not sure if it’s because most the of reading that I do is online now, reading other people’s stories, fact and fiction, or what – but I’ve discovered since I’ve been back at work that I prefer to listen to podcasts during my commute rather than music. And rather than holding a book or magazine. I’ve got some great music on my ipod (currently addicted to Adele) but I think I prefer my cd’s in the car even though I am almost never in the car long enough to hear lots of music. Podcats, both humourous and informative, are really making my train ride a lot more enjoyable (even though I am now the crazy person who laughs to themselves). I’m addicted to the incredible story telling of This American Life (seriously, they can make ANYTHING a completely compelling tale, I am spell bound by it). Friday Night Comedy from the BBC gives me some laughs and a taste of the old home – I did also have Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand but then this silly thing they did stupidly put them off the air. Woss will be back, but I preferred Brand anyway.
A colleague at work introduced me to Democracy Now, which fills in a lot of blanks around my other sources of news, normally newspapers and broadcasters read online. It’s very good. I’ve also got the weekly episode of the Bugle, getting that both-sides-of-the-Atlantic perspective I try to maintain, along with a good chuckle.
Got any more recommendations of how I can fill my hour/ipod?
[googlevideo=http://video.google.ca/videoplay?docid=-3284291615668212015&hl=en-CA]
So back in September, I was contacted by a very nice PR person who took the time to look at my blog, actually read it and comment on stuff, and asked if I was interested in reviewing a skincare product. Of course, me being me (i.e. basically just a whore for free stuff), I immediately responded and said ‘YES!’-of course I am interested.
She was representing Mama Mio, which is a British brand expanding their products into North America. And she mentioned it’s made by mothers, for mothers. At this point, I should have clued in what my sample would be, but I didn’t. I was too excited to get something really nice for free.
So the package arrived, and my heart sank when I opened it. ‘Goodbye Stretch Marks’. I should have known…
See, I’ve had stretch marks since puberty. Maybe earlier. Stretch marks aren’t actually something I’m actively trying to get rid of. I got some more while pregnant, fine, and I’ve just assumed that I am going to be living with them. I’m not one of these skinny minny’s that can account for every line – ‘see, that one there, that was when I was at 37 weeks gestation, despite my best efforts in applying cocoa butter every 5 seconds’ – nope, sorry.
However, in the spirit of the product review task, I actually got Mark to take a photo of my left hip area (you know, skin exposed but nothing obscene) and starting following the instructions on the bottle.
Here’s my review. The positive: it smells awesome, it goes on easy, not greasy or anything. I like the bottle, it’s cute. The negative: you are meant to put it on 3 times a day. Dude, if you’re trying to eliminate your stretch marks post-baby, you are lucky to get in the shower or brush your teeth once a day – never mind find time for yourself THREE times a day. But I guess if your post-baby bikini body is a priority, you might pick cream application over eating lunch. Or blogging. Or crying into your coffee.
Ahem. Anyway. So I tried. I was using it once, twice, three times a day. And then I started forgetting. And now it’s been a couple of weeks. And I’ve failed at my product review, and nice PR lady is going to hate me. And I don’t have a nice ‘before’ and ‘after’ photo, because there’s no change, and I need to put a disclaimer on my ‘About’ page.
Disclaimer: Emma has industrial-strength stretch marks. They aren’t going anywhere. So don’t send help. She will, however, accept all other freebies to review. Because she loves free stuff.
Mama Mio, Goodbye Stretch Marks, has clinically proven ingredients to make (other peoples’) stretch marks history, and is available in Canada at the Bay.
Oh, and the bottle says that it’s also good for sun damage and age spots, so I’ll be glad to have this nice big bottle around, even if I’m not saying goodbye to my stretch marks.
(my little speech at the end of the naming ceremony)
Dear Callum,
Your father and I knew you were a boy before you arrived, and we preferred to give you a ‘British’ sounding name. After much debate, we negotiated (and negotiated, and negotiated some more) and settled on Callum.
When I say your name, Callum – it makes me think of some wonderful holidays that we’ve had in Scotland, but you haven’t had the chance to go yet. Your name is very popular there. It also seems appropriate, given your build – I can foresee you as a rugby player. You could play for Scotland! More likely, for England or Canada.
Everyone here seems to think your name is Kale-um or Calleb. But you are our Callum.
Your name is derived from Columba, referring to St Columba, the 6th century saint who established the Iona community and converted large parts of Scotland to Christianity. Coincidentally, your great-grandmother’s church, an important part of her life, is St Columba’s Anglican Church in Ottawa.
In fact, the last time we went to Scotland, we were very near to Iona; we took a ferry to the Isle of Mull and stayed at a castle west of Fort William in Kinlochmoidart. But we only had Oliver with us and we didn’t know that only just over a year later, you would be here. Of course we can’t imagine life without you now. One day, we’ll take you there.
From the Latin, Columba or Callum means dove, bringer of peace. You are peaceful. You are quiet. You pay attention. And you don’t like it when we raise our voices (normally at Oliver!). We will try to keep it peaceful for you, so we can keep enjoying your smiles and your inquisitive nature.
Happy 1st Birthday, Callum, and Happy Naming Day, with all our love.
(thanks to all who came, who were so generous in gifts and well wishes, it was a good day)
(except for the part where Oliver now thinks all the toys are his)
The week has gotten away from me. I meant to write more. Where did the time go?
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Callum is finally better. It took 4 days for his temperature to stop creeping up to fever level. I really didn’t enjoy that very much.
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Mark’s dad arrived from England yesterday to stay for a week. Oliver is super excited and decided to wake up at 5:30 this morning to hang out with him. Better not pull that one again tomorrow, kid.
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Tomorrow is Callum’s first birthday party and naming day. I’ve got an unknown quantity in the minister dude who won’t communicate in advance of the ceremony, so I have no idea what to expect. I am expecting around 20 – 25 people (including grandparents and great-grandparents and loads of my friends but not many kids), and I need to make a hell of a lot of food tomorrow morning. For Oliver’s first birthday, I made everything from scratch. Callum, the fact that you are going to have a store-bought birthday cake does not mean I love you any less (shhhhh, don’t tell anyone, I like you better really) – it’s merely an indication that mummy’s head feels like it’s about to explode.
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Dare I take my children to the local Santa Claus parade on Sunday? Dare I introduce speaking of Santa and Christmas already? I am worried Oliver’s just not going to shut up about it for the next 2 months.
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Have a good weekend. I think mine might be filled with Tylenol. And wine. We bought lots of wine.
I’m at home today, because Callum is still sick, has been since Saturday night, and the fact that his fever keeps coming back day after day after the tylenol/ibuprofen wears off has been freaking me out. I had already taken him to a walk-in clinic on the weekend as I thought it was an ear infection, so it was an automatic antibiotic prescription. And he’s been taking it but he seems to be getting worse, not better. So I took him to the hospital this morning, and they told me it’s more likely a nasty virus that just keeps lingering, and it’s infected his whole ear/nose/throat system. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be better.
But what a great day to be at home. Good timing, kiddo.
It’s 20°C outside, and sunny. Gas is the cheapest it’s been since 2005, so I got to fill up. Mark’s dad is here in 2 days, and Callum’s party is on Saturday – so today I have some extra time to clean and tidy for that now.
And, oh yeah, the small matter of the entire world waiting with bated breath as to who is going to win that little election south of the border. Although I am not sure if I can actually stand to watch CNN all day without shooting myself. But if Obama wins (please, please), I think the world might just fall in love with the US again…
