Wednesday, July 29, 2009

What I did on my Summer Vacation Part 2. Sorta.

photo credit
creative commons license
Did I mention that I felt fantastic about myself the whole time we were away? Didn't change clothes four times before going out, didn't walk around feeling morbidly self-conscious everywhere. We were doing a fair bit of walking (some of it could even be daringly termed 'hiking', especially if you went by Eve's my-legs-are-on-fire-my-physical-resources-are-absolutely-strained-to-the-limit-my-parents-could-not-suck-more travelogue), and I thought maybe I'd even dropped a few pounds.
Turns out a bit of a suntan, dim cottage lighting and only one spotty mirror that shows you from the mid-chest up can do wonders for your self-esteem. I highly recommend it. I guess my ass just feels smaller in Eastern provinces. I may have to consider a move.
Focusing on the positive: I'm feeling grateful that the evil stomach virus I had yesterday (you know, the kind where you upchuck so violently you burst all the blood vessels in and around your eyes) did not occur in a cabin in New Brunswick or in the car on the way home. Does anyone else always emerge from a twenty-four bout of barfing with a craving for something you haven't liked before or had in years? Last time I had to send Matt out for mint chocolate chip ice cream. Now I'm all hopped up on purple popsicles and diet sprite. Unimportant, but intriguing. You don't even want to know how many times I just had to retype intriguing.

Monday, July 27, 2009

What I Did on my Summer Vacation, Part 1

Nothing like a fairly lengthy absence to make you feel like you need the Internet waaaaay more than it needs you.
Considering that I am an emotionally fragile, easily overwhelmed, slightly loony person who needs quite a lot of alone time: further considering that we have had some kind of company since just before the last day of school until two days before we left on vacation: taking into account that we vacationed with three other families and then the four of us spent twelve hours in the car together driving home....
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creative commons license
I am still feeling surprisingly well-disposed towards people. Other than myself. I sort of expected to be huddled in a corner somewhere at this point (probably the laundry room, where I have the most justification to be, plus there are big comfy only slightly smelly piles of linen and clothing in there). One of the people we travelled with called yesterday and asked us if we wanted to go to a movie and I said sure, and meant it, without even thinking "are you insane? We just spent ten days together! I don't even want your name to cross my mind for another seventy-two hours!"
Is this evidence of mental health progress on my part, or was it just the right kind of company and travelling companions? You know when you get up in the morning and the silverware is all in the wrong slots and the mugs are where the plates should be and there's a cheese grater in the bowl stack and sometimes a measuring spoon falls out and hits you on the head when you open the cupboard? That means you have a guest who got up before you and unloaded the dishwasher, and it totally rocks. You know when you have two children who aren't yours in the house but you're allowed to say to either one of them at any time, stop making that constipated pterodactyl sound right now or I'm going to beat you senseless, and there are no ill feelings? Isn't that the best thing ever? And so what if the charmingly offbeat artist uncle let my nine-year-old watch Caddyshack? It made him feel cool and grown-up and he still thinks the worst word in it was 'turd'.
More on Halifax and the Bay of Fundy and the harrowing sojourn in St. Julie, Quebec, later. Right now I think I will go spend that bit of quality time in the laundry room. Missed you, Internet.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Things I Learned at the Cottage on Canada Day

1) A rogue three-year-old can accomplish some serious landscaping with a wayward pair of pliers.

2) There really is no limit to the number of times a skinny four-year-old will stand on the bottom of the dock ladder demanding to be lifted into the water, then immediately chatter his teeth dramatically and say "I don't want to go swimming", be put back on the ladder and... well, I'm pretty sure we were stuck in an infinite loop there for a while.

3) The 'African Lion' fireworks should really be renamed the 'African Lion immediately after eating Mexican tourist stuffed full of burritos' fireworks. (Eve: "My favourite were the farting fireworks!")

4) When you tell a kid forty-two times to put on his shoes before he goes outside and he goes outside without his shoes on and steps on something and hurts his foot you're still not allowed to say I told you so.

5) Three, four and six-year-olds generally do not consider strawberries to be dessert.

6) There is a very subtle tone difference that tells you when the six-year-old is saying No stop hitting me with the pillows and not meaning it and when she is saying the exact same thing and meaning it. If you do not immediately hear this tone difference from two rooms away and rush in to make the three and four-year-old stop hitting her with the pillows, you are a terrible excuse for a mother and you should not be allowed to have any more wine.

7) If you give a kid a fish, he may or may not eat for a day. If you teach a bunch of kids to fish, they will spend hours out on the dock happier than pigs in shit, and leave you alone to drink wine in the cottage with the other grown-ups, other than when their line is tangled or someone falls in.

Good times, my friends. Good times.