I know its been a while since I last posted...summer got away from me...however, this morning I have a small musing I'd like to share. How do you determine the difference between knowing your limits and being lazy? I find myself, as I get older, deciding not to take things on, or to say 'no' to things (and sometimes people) - based on my justification that I'm old enough to know myself, and know that I either will never finish said project or am just not that interested. And there are usually several things that play into the decision, not the least of which is my unwillingness to live with the guilt that inevitably comes along with not seeing something through. So the question is then, am I really just avoiding things because I don't like feeling guilty? Is my justification that I don't have the time, and am uninterested in making the time, really nothing more than an excuse to be lazy? Or do I know myself well enough to know that the things that I deem important are worthy of my full attention, and that some things just are not worth my time or effort. Hmmm. I find myself less and less interested in over-extending myself with obligations about which I am not truly passionate. But in so doing, am I missing out? Should I be pushing myself a little more? Am I setting a bad example for my kids? I don't know....

Completely unrelated, here are some photos of our summer adventures...it was a busy one!

Eating ice cream in the back yard with her cousins

The Stanley Park sea wall on our way to the Pride Parade

Self explanitory, I would say

Hayley's birthday party

Ahhh, sisters!

The Othello tunnels

I will wait no more

As I write this I'm listening to my youngest have an absolute melt down in her crib. Yes, I am a 'cry it out' mommy. Especially since I know that this tantrum has everything to do with her being so tired she doesn't know what to do with herself, and that she will, sooner than later, fall asleep. We've had sport camp in the mornings this week for Miss C, and the pipsqueak has been woken up from every morning nap so far this week...hence the melt down. I'm quite anxious for her to drop the morning nap, it will be nice to be able to do things in the mornings...

In any case, thats not why I sat down at the computer this morning. I sat down, to write a little spot about my recent decision to stop waiting. More specifically, my decision to stop waiting for my body to return to its pre-marriage, pre-baby form. I've decided that, that, will never happen, and I've decided to be OK with that. I had a very interesting conversation with a lovely older woman not that long ago - we were discussing marriage and love and such - and she looked at me and said, (In a very thick British accent) "you've got to keep the kettle boiling at home, love. You can't wear sweatpants and t-shirts every day and expect to keep your husband happy!" The comment struck a nerve, because fabulous husband has commented on more than one occasion that he is not such a fan of my vast assortment of sweatpants and t-shirts. Not in a not-nice sort of way, just in a I'd-like-to-occasionnaly-see-the-body-of-the-woman-I-married, kind of way. Really not such an unreasonable request, all things considered.

So I got to thinking. I have a few pieces of nice clothes and some very pretty jewelry that I NEVER wear, because I've been waiting for an "occasion" to wear them. Some beautiful dangly earrings that I absolutely love, some very pretty bracelets, a cute pair of shoes or two and some nice shirts, that I NEVER EVER wear. Because I keep waiting. I keep waiting for the clothes to just fit a tiny bit better. I keep waiting for a reason to wear the earrings that I love. I keep waiting for the shoes to be as comfortable as my running shoes. Thing is, all that stuff never happens. If I keep waiting, I'll never get to wear any of it. So I've decided to stop waiting. Today is as important an occasion as any, simply because I woke up to a great life, with great kids, a great husband and great family and friends. And the husband will no doubt appreciate this decision. Interestingly, I'm finding that the more I wear the stuff I like, the more I like what I see in the mirror. And the more all the squishy parts of me seem less glaringly awful, and a little more worthy of loving. And I'm finding the more I'm loving the me in the mirror, the less I feel the need to eat an entire bag of chips. And a chocolate bar afterwards. Hmm. Also, it turns out that the shoes aren't actually that uncomfortable. So, there you have it. I will stop waiting and I will love this body, no matter what shape it takes, as it has seen me through thick and thin, (literally) produced some beautiful babies and been insrumental in building a good life. Sorry, body, for all the abuse over the past years. I promise to stop now.

Also, the pipsqueak stopped crying about 15 minutes ago. I win!

As an addendum to the last post, I would like to add that this camping trip provided me with several important revelations. Firstly - my 3 year old takes much better pictures than I do. Her shots will be featured in upcoming posts. Her eye for composition is infinately better than mine.

Secondly - I really dislike being dirty. There. I've said it. I've known this for quite some time, but have never had the courage to confess it until now. I truly get a little freaked out when my hands get really dirty. This probably explains my almost complete and total aversion to yard work. (well, also - I'm lazy that way) No, really, it makes me a little neurotic and twitchy to be without a shower and a good hand washing. Super ick. I guess I will never be a tree planter for a living...sigh...(Right. 'cause there was ever any chance that THAT was going to happen.)

So we've arrived home safe and sound ( and a little wet and dirty) from our first camping trip as a family of four. We had my sister and family along with us, and we spent 3 days at Shuswap Lake Provincial Park. Given the kind of weather we've been having I was anticipating that the mosquitos would be terrible, but they weren't actually that bad. Fortunately for my kids, Nat's kids are far tastier - they had some pretty good sized bites. Thank God for the invention of the Benadryl stick. In any case, we stopped in Kamloops for a night on the way up, where my already-grumpy-from-packing husband, added a new dent to the collection on his truck, courtesy of a very poorly placed cement planter box.

Not exactly how either of us were hoping to end the day, and stuff like that really gets to him.
While he was downstairs sorting that out, the Pipsqueak found the clock radio in the room

and managed to turn it on, full volume, to the rush hour drive station in Kamloops which was playing "Mother" by Danzig. My girls ROCKED OUT - they were dancing around like maniacs which made me realize that I obviously do not include nearly enough heavy metal in their regular listening rotation.

Shove off, Raffi! Make room for Danzig. (??Danzig? Really? Sigh.) Anybody got any old Danzig CD's they're looking to unload? Apparently, I'm in the market...

We arrived at the campsite, which was very nice, and I was pleasantly surprised by the flush toilets. We had sites right across the road from each other, which worked out very well since the pipsqueak still naps a lot. I keep hoping that someday soon she'll drop the morning nap, but she seems completely unwilling to oblige me on this one. The 3 big kids (well, if you call two 3 year olds and a 5 year old 'big') dug right in - literally. When asked what her favorite part of camping was, the big girl immediately and without hesitation answered, "digging in the clay!"

You would not believe the amount of laundry I've done in the last two days.

They did a ton of bike riding, they played in the lake - the big kids and the little kids -

They ran around like wild things,

and some of them did a lot of reading.

There was play doh,

and, of course, the obligatory rain induced tent exile, which, lemme tell ya, is no picnic with 4 stir crazy kids! Nat and I were genuinely afraid for our lives for a few minutes there. One should never get between a hippo and the water. Only slightly less dangerous, is getting between small children and the promise of smores.

Our explanation that it was absolutely pouring rain outside, was unsatisfactory and unappreciated. Thankfully, the clouds parted long enough, just before bedtime, that they were each able to get a few smores down.

Whew. Sticky, but happy. All in all, a very successful camping trip. It was great fun, and I certainly look forward to doing it again next year! Minus the truck damage.  

Canada needs more parades.

This past weekend was Canada Day long weekend and I can't believe that it is already July 4th! Happy 4th to all my American friends and family, by the way. I'm remembering exactly a year ago, the day after Mark and Dottie's wedding, we were gearing up to get to the Stonebank 4th of July parade, and holy bloody hell was it ever hot and humid! I don't know if I can remember ever being so hot! The pipsqueak was only 4 months old and had her legs and arms all bandaged up because the mommy hadn't yet figured out that she was terribly allergic to her carseat fabric. I remember worrying about how I was going to keep the poor girl cool...The parade was great, as it always was, and the company was excellent too, as it always was - well, except for the idiot who apparently took great offence to my attempt to nurse the pip in public, and later that day informed me that it was "really impolite to titty feed my (your) kid in public" Such an enlightened fellow. Drunk by 10 am is still no excuse to be an asshole. In any event, we had a good day and the parade was great - I will miss American parades, they know how to put those together. I can't believe that was only a year ago, so much has changed since then. The Canada day celebration this year was certainly different...You can't walk around with a beer in your hand, which was never a big deal for me and doesn't necessarily make for a better party,  but somehow it seemed less celebratory and more...I don't know...mundane? I'm not sure what it was. Perhaps it simply was the lack of a parade. Thats probably it. Canada needs more parades. And parades with a large contingency of Harley riders and inner city marching bands. Ok, so thats not likely to happen, and thats probably Ok, but maybe we need to cut loose a little more...throw a bunch of candy at the kids, drench the brave folks up front with garden hoses attached to floats, eat more potato salad...(no thanks, actually) you get my drift. I think what this all adds up to is that, I actually became more attached to my American home in the 6 years I was there than I realized. Perhaps I'm still adjusting to being a Canadian in Canada again. Perhaps things have changed since I've been away. Perhaps its really easy to idealize a place once you're removed from it. And perhaps I'm doing that again. Hmmm. Food for thought. In any case, I'm glad its summer, I'm glad Mark and Dottie are now expecting their first baby, and I'm glad to be back in Canada. Maybe I'll just leave it at that for today.

First. Post. EVER!

Just wanted to send a quick 'Thank you!' shout out to all of the lovely people in my life who have stubbornly refused to let my brain go quietly into the night. To those people who seem to think I might have something to say, and at whos urging this blog has come to be. So, thanks!