Canada Moms Blog

Gravy, baby!

I recently traveled to New York to assist as a third photographer at a wedding. Yes, that’s right, THREE! Three photographers to cover eight hours of the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner and then 14 hours of coverage on the actual wedding day. People, I have never in my entire life expected to see a wedding of such grandeur and magnitude. It was, in a word, ok, two words, amazing and exhausting.

When it comes to travel to the United States, I’ve only been to seven States; Delaware, Pennsylvania, Virginia, District of Columbia, Arizona, Nevada and New York. The first four were all sort of mixed into one trip where my husband had a few days of business to take care of in Delaware and I joined him pretty much for the sole purpose of an opportunity to meet a blogger friend in Pennsylvania. But we decided to make a mini vacation out of that trip and saw the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia and did the whole touristy White House thing in Washington, D.C. because those States are all so close to one another. I’ve been to Nevada twice because Las Vegas is one of my most favourite places on earth and I flew into Arizona via a tiny charter plane to experience the vastness and breathtaking views of the Grand Canyon, and finally, New York for a weekend long photo shoot.

Although Canadians and Americans are more alike than different, the differences are just so, different. Like, for example, while I was eating what was probably the most scrumptious vegetarian gnocchi dish ever between taking photographs at the wedding dinner, my husband, poor lonely him, headed out for a solo pub fare type dinner. He ordered a Budweiser, a hamburger and fries with gravy. And the waitress just kind of cocked her head and looked at him for a second, trying to register what he just asked for and was all, “Gravy?” And Mark was all, ”Yes please, fries with gravy.” And she was all, “Are you from the South because we don’t have gravy up this way.”

Happy Birthday Canada

Canada turns 142 years old today and I know we’re a few years away from a full-blown sesquicentennial birthday bash, but still, a Nationwide birthday is worth celebrating, no? We live in a country with the best coffee in the world (mmm, Tim Horton’s) and are able to buy beer cases with handles big enough to fit a fully gloved hand. Clearly, we rock. So, in honour of our Canadian heritage, I’ve found a few fabulous facts about our country that are totally toast-worthy for any July 1st celebrations. Oh, and if you see Joe, tell him I said Hi!

On choosing sleep over style

 

Before becoming a mom, I must confess, my mornings began with a steamy love affair where I indulged in a heated hanky panky session with my blow dryer to conquer the spiral mess of frizzy curls on my head. The process of smoothing and straightening my hair has been a constant battle since, oh, about the second I hit puberty and quickly realized the ratio of frizzy hair to kissing a boy was simply not a mathematical equation the universe is capable of solving.

And so began the whole hair domestication process. For more years than I have fingers and toes, I began my day with a ritual that took about 45 minutes and involved no less than three products, four clips, one round metal brush, a series of complicated hexes and an entire boat load of patience. Oh, and if there was a hint of moisture in the air, be it rain, dew-filled morning air or summer humidity, my hair instantly turned into a disaster of a lion mane and, once upon a time, I even used to perpetually stuff my purse with several just in case “hair emergency” accessories to tame THE TRAGEDY.

Worst House Ever

The whole process of selling and buying a house has to be one of life’s most stressful events, right up there with Marriage and Divorce and being so all-consumed with going out your mind vacuuming everyday that you didn’t even remember that Sunday was Mother’s Day let alone send your own Mother a card.

After 43 days of multiple showings almost every single day, several with less than one hour’s notice, including two weekend-long open houses and the never-ending picking up of toddler toys and windexing of dog snot and be-sparkling of every single surface possible, our house is finally sold. And now the feeling of panic sets in because as of July 14th, if we don’t find another house, my family will be homeless.

Royal Ontario Museum

I will totally freely admit that in the morning, while I attempt to shake the grogginess from my brain with way too many cups of coffee, I let my son gap out with a sippy full of milk at cartoons. He never used to care what he watched, you know, as long as it was a show with bubbly animated characters, but lately he has been completely and totally enamoured with Blue’s Clues. And there was this one episode in particular about dinosaurs that really caught his attention. I’m kind of grateful that I PVR’d it because Nate has asked to watch DINOSAURS no less than 14 million trillion imes.

To be honest, I actually like Blue’s Clues, but it has to be said: The human interpretation of a T-Rex totally looks like you’re twittering your own nipples! And because my kid is two and his brain is in that spongy learning stage of absorbing everything around him, I frequently have to leave the room to stifle my giggles while Nate stares in complete awe at the DINOSAURS!

Moving from a house into a home

I have lived in the quiet suburban community of Ajax, Ontario for almost five years now. This is where my husband and I, newly married and brimming with excitement, bought our first home. We live in an red-orange brick house on a quiet tree lined street where the neighbours are friendly and children play in the streets armed with hockey nets and mud-covered tennis balls. If it sounds like the perfect place to raise a family, you’re absolutely right.

And yet we’re getting ready to move.The decision to leave this house is partially about space (or lack thereof), which may have something to do with sharing our lives with a giant 90lb yellow dog that is a mirror image with the exact same quirky personality of Marley from the movie Marley & Me, but our lack of space probably has more to do with the introduction of a baby turned toddler and the never-ending mountainous pile of toys. Also, and this saddens me a bit, but this house has never felt like a home.