It’s sort of ridiculous, but I have barely seen any of Canada.  I have traveled all over the world, and look forward to conquering more of the planet, but I haven’t been east of Ottawa, and I haven’t been out west since we moved to Ontario from BC in 1988.  OVER TWENTY YEARS AGO.  That’s sort of pathetic.

For you non-Canadians, let’s just say that I have only visited about 3% of the country I live in.  (For more context, I have probably visited like 60% of the UK, even if that’s just driving through on a highway, which is a heck of a lot more than I’ve seen of 97% of Canada). God, I have probably seen more of the US, percentage-wise.  This is terrible.  This should mean my Canadian citizenship gets revoked.

Dudes, this is a BIG country

One day, we are going to grab this country by the balls throat and DO IT.  We’ll go east and see the Bay of Fundy and visit Halifax, where I used to want to live, see islands and fields, the Cabot Trail, Cape Spear, and dip our toes in the Atlantic Ocean, and eat lots of seafood.  We’ll go north, not the pansy north (god, Sudbury is like SO FAR AWAY for those of us that live in Southern Ontario) but the real north, where polar bears live (hopefully still live by the time we get there), and it’s not just rural but mostly uninhabited.  We’ll go west and we’ll show the kids what mountains really are (I love how Oliver asks if a 20 ft high hill is a mountain.  No kid, you have NO IDEA).  We’ll see islands and fields and places where I lived and played from ’84 to ’88, and dip our toes in the Pacific Ocean, and eat lots of seafood.  All along the way, there would be friends to see, friends who have escaped from Ontario, or friends from long ago (thanks Facebook, for sometimes you are useful and good).

Right now?  I hate road trips.  Two kids in car seats that they hate to be strapped into means I can’t deal with a road trip.  I would love to go and see my grandparents in Ottawa more often.  But I dread the road trip.  I am dying to get down to Pennsylvania to see old friends (hi Maria!) but I dread the road trip.  We will get there.  Once the alignment of time off work melds with my brain being able to deal with the screaming.  Also, it helps to schedule driving while they need to sleep.  But I’d really rather do it when I have to endure hours of ‘I Spy’ rather than whining or screaming.  It will end one day, right?

So, with a mixture of envy and excitement, I am following along as Catherine and Katie do a BIG Canadian road trip with their kids (those brave souls), and tweet/twitpic/blog about it all the way.  One day, we’ll do that too.  For now, it’s fun to read as they go along.  And I hope to hear more about it at BlogHer or possibly on their return to Toronto if they still have enough stamina to see people after two weeks of hardcore traveling…

Enjoy!

This month at work, we’ve been spending most weekday lunches doing at least a 20 minute walk for various health-related charities that we support every year.  As in, I work for a major employer that does a whole lot of fundraising stuff in June for health charities, and there are events and bake sales and samosa sales and all sorts.

And this walking at lunch idea, though not MY idea but instead the suggestion of the fund raising organizers, has turned out to be a very good idea.  It’s very difficult to find any time in my day to do any sort of physical activity that isn’t (a) running after one of the kids down the hall; (b) walking from the subway to my desk or vice versa; or (c) walking from my car to the train platform or vice versa.  That’s normally the extent of my movement.  I could get up before 6am to get on the treadmill (but I’d be even more tired than now). I could do more in the evening (I just started a yoga class once a week) but there’s so much other stuff to do in the evening (like the dishwasher and laundry and even YES sitting and vegetating).

Our days are busy at work, and lunch often involves sitting at my desk clearing out my Google Reader and checking out newspaper websites, so this forced activity has been welcomed.  All of us who have been doing it have really enjoyed it.  I’ve also found new treasures, like the courtyard around Osgoode Hall which is like stepping into the best of England for a few minutes.

A new website from the Canadian Chiropractic Association is sort of suggesting the same thing.  I was directed to Fit-in 15 on Schmutzie’s site and I signed up for the reminder emails as I think it’s a good idea particularly beyond June when the charity fundraiser is over.  I need to keep walking at lunch, and more.

(I wrote this post so I could enter Schmutzie’s contest – Canadians, you can too)

Overheard, as I came in from yoga, (I’m paraphrasing): Go to bed, I’ve had enough. Stop picking your nose.  It’s disgusting.

Commence: screaming at the baby gate. WHY YES we do lock our oldest child in his room at night.

After I sat down, turned on the news ticker for a minute, I decided to go and settle him down.

He wants another book read.  I feel tired and the light is already turned off.  I have another proposal to make.  He curls up in my lap.

Me: Tell me a story.

(after much coaxing…)

Me: Once upon a time, there was…

Oliver: A mouse!

Me: …named?…

Oliver: (whispers) Callum

Me:…and…

Oliver: (whispers) A boy named Oliver

Me: …and they lived…

Oliver: (whispers) In a castle

Me: …and one day they went for a walk.  And what happened?

Oliver: There was a BIG STORM!

Me: Okay, so there’s crashes of THUNDER and LIGHTENING and what happened then?

Oliver: It crashed into the buildings!! It broke the buildings.

Me: But the castle was okay.  The castle was still standing.  So all the people that lived in the buildings, they came to stay in the castle so they would be safe.  So Oliver and Callum took care of them.  What did they do to take care of them?

Oliver: (whispers) They gave them lunch

Me: Okay (giggling), Oliver and Callum gave them lunch, and they ALSO tucked them all into bed.  So they were all safe.  The end.

Without saying a word, he crawls into bed and waits for me to tuck him in.

A peaceful bedtime.  Sometimes it requires some creativity.

Note: this is not an Uncle Ben’s product review.   Although I am a fan of both boxed and homemade stuffings.  But that is a total digression.

It’s been fun times around here lately.  The kids got SUPER sick on Wednesday night and only made it back to normal routines like daycare today.  Mark and I traded off working days, and spent the weekend trying to quell the screaming while juggling errands and life.  I mean, I felt bad because they were really sick (Oliver is on the up after an antibiotic prescription for a throat infection – strep? Not sure – but bad; Callum has a cold and is hacking up a lung as I write this) but by this morning I had really had ENOUGH of the crying and the screaming and MY GOD THE SNOT.  We have gone through so many tissues.  Despite Oliver refusing to blow his nose anymore because the snot has been stuck and he’s got some kind of nose-blowing post-traumatic stress disorder.  Get over it please.

Just when I thought today would be an almost return to normalcy, Mark announced at 3pm today that he was hopping on a flight to Chicago for some kind of work emergency.  As in, right now.  Who does that?!  I mean, he’s not a firefighter.  He’s an IT-related project manager.  Has his company heard of couriers??  Seriously.

So my coping strategy for the evening was to (a) order pizza (b) dispense appropriate medication [should have taken some myself] and (c) turn on cartoons.  Oh and simultaneously interview a potential babysitter.  Who thankfully was lovely and didn’t mind my filthy house or the dog jumping on her.

Oh man, I seriously have parental burn out right now.

The good news? We probably have a babysitter.  There is lots of pizza left (breakfast AND lunch, oh my!).  The kids are already asleep (although I expect I will have to get Callum up as I am fairly confident he’s going to vomit at some point with all that awful coughing), so tired after a long day with friends and teachers.  I got invited to my first bridal shower today, for a good friend (I never had one and somehow I’ve never been invited to one even though I have been to a number of weddings).  I get to go to an all-day training session in a JAIL! on Wednesday (I am ridiculously excited to go to jail) on this pretty cool and important topic.  There seems to be lots of good stuff going on the calendar – all kinds of activities and events and such coming up this summer.

Breathe.  (Eat pizza.)  (Drink.)   (Sleep.)

(Can’t be wordless here – finally caught Oliver pulling an ‘Oliver’ and asking for “MORE!”)

(and that’s Callum’s ‘get the hell away from my bowl’ face, which is pulled almost every meal)

I know, you’ve been waiting around for this entry since September 2008.  Right?  Of course.  Edge of your seat and all that.  Ha.  Anyway.

Interior decor has been a problem since we moved in.

1. We had great plans to buy nice stuff since we had lots of money when we moved to Canada (all money, no assets).
2. Then we bought a house (all assets, no money).
3. Then that surprise second kid came along and what was the point of having nice stuff anyway.
4. Then we got totally overwhelmed by all the stuff that needed to be done to the decor of this house and instead froze.
5. Then we didn’t have enough hours in the day to function, never mind decorate, so so much for this house.

So when I’ve had a few free moments (like when Mark took both boys to England in January, or when he took Callum last September) I’ve tackled their bedrooms.  Because even if the rest of the house is abysmal, at least their rooms can be cheery on the cheap.  And I’m not trying to get into the pages of House & Home here.  (oh and I wish I could strive for that in the rest of the house. I really do have good intentions. Just no time and money.)

Where did I start?  With their curtains.

Oliver’s room came with some interesting curtains – I mean, where do you get this fabric?! – clearly custom made, with construction vehicles and worker people.  Never would have gone in that direction.  We didn’t paint his walls – we decided it was acceptable as is with three blue walls and one tan. Again, I wouldn’t have done that, but whatever.

Airplanes painted by me. Which is why they look terrible.

So we go from there – construction and transportation. (in case you don’t know, Oliver’s dad has always work in public transportation (e.g. subway or trains) and flies a plane for fun in his spare time – so we are big on planes and trains around here).

Artwork from Winners and a personalization mail order catalog in England.

Decals from the dollar store. So probably full of lead. But he doesn’t lick them.

Transportation-themed wallpaper appliques, Wallies.  Hook board from Winners.

More art work from Winners.  (I usually get the stuff on clearance because I am Mrs. Cheapo)

My mum got him these drawers on a shopping trip to the States.

So stickers in an Ikea frame can be art too.  Heh.

When we moved in this house, Callum was a flutter in my tummy.  First his room was a guest room, but we painted the walls neutral tan knowing someone of one gender or another was coming, but kept the curtains.  Even though I knew they had been custom made for a girls room.  What do you do with stars?  Go into deep space.

Rocket ship height chart from Winners (I paid full price, I loved it that much)

Robot in space art from Winners (love this too, it’s sparkly, and I don’t get a lot of sparkly with no girls!!) and retro space ship Wallies I found on ebay.

I made his name sign from a box lid and paint and letter stickers from the dollar store, then added felt shapes from a craft store in the US that cost a dollar too.

I’ve had this mobile since university (at least 12 years)

So I’d never claim to like their curtains.  But I can work with them.  Until one day when either we can spend some money on this place or GET THE HELL OUT.  I’m hoping for the latter.

(I really hope not to be writing Curtains: part three.  Please god no.)

• Having a sinus infection for 2 weeks can really weigh heavily on my mental health, particularly while contemplating some ‘big’ questions (see breakdown here).
• Upon finally getting my ass to the doctor, giving up all hope of getting rid of it on my own, it follows that an effective 5 day course of antibiotics is also a great mood booster.
• So is the ability to actually move my ass again.
• Sometimes, things do fall into place (even if you don’t believe in fate/karma/The Secret/the law of attraction).  Opportunity knocks.  Etc.
• Babysitters are not only just for looking after children, but are also required to potentially save marriages (so, no pressure then, girl that we haven’t met yet).
• This house deserves another owner; this owner deserves another house.
• This time, I got out of the fog.  Will there be a time that I won’t be able to?