Marie-Eve in Montreal

Instagram...

2012-01-27T05:30:00.000-05:00

...is my newest obssession. I'm late to the party, I know. But such interesting, story-telling, lives-revealing, personality-unfolding, taking-you-outside-of-your-own-world prettiness, in just a few pictures -I'm not following a ton of people, I want it to remain meaningful to me. (By the way, I haven't joined Pinterest yet. I know that by now my grandmother probably has... But to tell you the thruth, I'm absolutely terrified that it will suck me into a inspiration-filled, fluffy, beauuuuutiful fashion/food/craft/home/lifestyle/whatnot po*n void I really can't afford these days, timewise).

Here are a few of my recent instagrams...

Commute

Christmas baby (hotel room in Boston)

You have to take pictures when it so rarely happens...

He was the King! (Actually, this 'galette' slice was supposed to be mine, but when I saw the trinket peeking out I subtly changed it with his)

Arriving into the frozen city (it was -20 C that morning...)

Overworked, underpaid

The Windsor station, where I had just left my car

Wowza! (times two)

2012-01-25T05:30:00.000-05:00

According to this article from the New York Times, twin births have increased 76% in the US between 1980 and 2009. One out of 30 kids born these days is now a twin!!! What an interesting society phenomenon...

It says that about two thirds of this spectacular rise can be attributed to the increased use of fertility drugs/assisted reproduction procedures (well not here, since the government is now reiumbursing couples doing IVF, but under the condition that only a single embryo is implanted), while the remaining third can be attributed to mothers being older than they used to be. I remember reading about that already, but as they get closer to menopause, women more regularly have two-egg cycles, naturally. Ha!

All of this mostly leads to fraternal twins, though... I suspect the rate of (rarer) identical twins has pretty much stayed the same... An old boyfriend of mine (when I was 18/19) was an identical twin, by the way. Yes, I could tell him apart from his brother (yes, I'm sure). It's funny though, even if they shared the same group of friends, they weren't crazy close and didn't really have that "special bond" a lot of people keep talking about. They were oppositional more often than they were fusional. But their mom did tell me that they talked (with the outside world) late, because as toddlers, they had their own little language only the other one could understand.

Which reminds me of this fascinating cover story in a recent National Geographic issue... About studies done on identical twins, which are in high demand in lots of science fields, since they provide such a rare insight on the old nature vs nurture debate... What I liked best about the story was that increasingly, researchers are coming to the ("radical") conclusion that genes and environment alone cannot explain everything, but rather that a third factor is probably playing much more of a role than previously thought: epigenetics. I'm no science maven, but from what I understand it's about how genes can change and express themselves or not due to "external" factors such as nutrition, exposure to contaminants, stress, etc.

These beautiful little girls (from the NG article) both have autism. In identical twins, if one is diagnosed within the spectrum, the other one has a 70% chance of having it, too.

Always in between the two

2012-01-23T12:34:00.000-05:00

Although I work with French documents all the time, over time I've developed some sort of a tech writing specialization: I'm often the-one-who's-French-but-who-speaks-decent-enough-English-that-she-can-write-in-English-and-especially-help-French-people-write-better-English*.

After over ten years, it still amazes me how your first/primary language completely shapes your view/understanding/conceptualization of the world, in a way that is totally different and bigger than just grammar and syntax. I don't know how many French-speakers' English I've proofread by now, but it's a lot. And it's ALWAYS the same mistakes that they make. Always. It's as if learning French first hardwired us to make these.

-Pluralizing words such as "information", "communication", and "media".

-Mixing up "these" and "those" (using those improperly).

-Mixing up "then" and "than" (in a language other then French or English).

-Using the possessive apostrophe for objects (the step's numbers; the system's modules)

-Displaying a lot of confusion with contractions and language levels (using can't in a very formal setting such as a business proposal; writing can't not; not being able to write things like ain't or aren't correctly or to use them in the proper context)

-Mixing up "currently" and "actually" (in French the latter (actuellement) means the former)

-Using too literal translations ("the linguistic interface of choice of the user" instead of "the user's chosen language")

And the two biggest ones:

-Using the passive voice (I used to do that a lot. Heck I probably still do).

-Displaying confusion with genderization. I've lost count of how many times I've explained that no, you really can't write "the administrator can view the list in his profile". It works in French (a very sexist language), but in English, it's not just grammatically incorrect, it's also ethically incorrect, non-sensical, and somewhat offensive/sort of asking for lawsuits.

Anything else I forgot?

*I know I make mistakes too, all the time.

What the children are dancing to these days

2012-01-20T05:30:00.000-05:00

Who needs "kids' music", anyway?

Much to our relief, up until now, not us.

Stats

2012-01-18T05:30:00.000-05:00

Months between buying our new house and selling our current house: 5

Years I've actually aged during these five months: 8.6

Weeks our house was on the market: 19

Total number of showings we've had: 37 (37!)

Number of make-it-or-break-it second showings we've had: 6

Number of people we've had at our open house in October: 30+

Average number of people at an open house in our neighbourhood: 4

Number of viewers who gave really negative feedback: 1, but it hurt

Difference between our initial listing price and the closing price: -$19,000 (including an earlier 10K price drop)

Number of offers: 2

Bidding wars between the prospective buyers: 0

Leverage we still had because of the two offers in terms of move in date: 2 months

Weeks left before moving: 10

F's age when we bought the new house: 9 months

F's age when we will move into the new house: 17 months

Chick who now feels pretty stupid for having worried so much, because of course things were going to be all right: 1

Chick who feels more relieved than she has probably ever felt in her life: 1

Little boy who has now realized that we're moving and is a little sad and upset: 1 :-(

Family who has gleefuly started making plans about where the bookcases will go, what to do with that extra room next to the kitchen, which color to paint the bedrooms, and what material we should cover the bare fireplace mantel with: 1

Family who, despite their elation, still feels a little bittersweet about leaving this house, where they put so much work and love, and which is filled with so much personal history: 1

Profile of the buyers: Couple in their early thirties, he manages IT at a digital media firm, she went back to school and is working part-time at a nearby clinic. Never owned a house, but have been dutifully saving for it and worked with an agent for years. Visited over 60 properties, and it was never right. Until ours.Which, after so many "rejections", feels comforting. No kids, but want them, hence the three-bedroom house. Miraculously don't seem to mind the pool. (The other offer came from a middle-aged single guy, which was not the target buyer we had in mind at all... He seemed perfectly OK, and was a homeowner already. Told our agent that the house was "absolutely perfect for him" (comforting, again). It's not why he didn't win but his offer included asking us to leave behind several vintage Coca-Cola memorabilia signs and objects. There was NO WAY.)

Sometimes, going to Paris is a bad idea

2012-01-16T12:55:00.003-05:00

In November, the company I work for decided to send me to Paris on the second week of January. Reservations and plans were made. Because it was some kind of a by-chance perfect timing situation that may never present itself again, M -who both had one week of vacation banked and a rare lag in his schedule-, bought a plane ticket, too. My mother accepted to come over and babysit (which she was only able to do because that specific week is very slow for her business). Our real estate agent had assured us that things only usually picked up on the second half of January, and that we should enjoy these few last weeks of relative quietness, because it would likely get crazy after that. So we had told my mom that she probably wouldn't have showings, or maybe say, one, so it shouldn't be a big deal. Of course with the house uncertainty going on a trip was not the most rational thing ever, but we still thought it was a too-good opportunity to pass up: a week in Paris for the both of us, for the price of one (cheap) flight + M's lunches and dinners. We were beyond excited for this trip, only our second one alone since becoming parents five years ago. Even if I had to work, it would still be a fanstatic break in our routine, not to mention a great opportunity to reconnect. In Paris!!!

Then during the Holidays, without notice, everything got cancelled. And obviously, we were both really disappointed, and mad at ourselves for booking M's ticket so early and so confidently... He ended up paying a hefty $300 fee, which we clearly could have done without. All this to say that the atmosphere since then has been quite grim around here.

Then, something happened, right at the exact moment when we would have been supposed to leave. Apparently houses, like politicians, are subjected to momentum, and we suddenly sensed that ours had shifted. While the market remained post-Holidays-dead everywhere in town, we had four showings booked within a few days.

And... two buyers who came back for a second showing.

Which led to... two offers on the same day.

So providing that the buyers' (preapproved) financing gets cleared and that the inspection goes well (which it really should be), ladies and gentlemen, THE HOUSE. IS. SOLD. !!!

It's funny, but we feel much better about not going to Paris now, or even about wasting that money on a cancelled ticket. Because honestly, in hidsight, I cannot think of a worse week for us to have been away.

My stance on diets

2012-01-11T05:30:00.000-05:00

I’m(tentatively) back on the elliptical machine at insanely early hours in themorning. We’ll see how it goes… But apparently, working out wasn’tgoing to happen by itself. And I just have to do it! Because: it makes me feelbetter about things that stress me out (arem, the house situation), helps me sleep(somewhat) better, my body craves it, it reduces the noise in my head (readslight twinges of depression, negativity, occasional overwhelmingness etc.) byreleasing serotonin. And, also: yes, to manage my weight.

So since not much is on at that time, I watch CNN. And whereas before it was my honey ~~Iknow he’s gay and slightly weird~~ Anderson Cooper, now it’s two women that bravelyanchor the timeslot for super early risers. And, they’re good, I mean, they’reOK… But last week, they annoyed me beyond belief. The news they were mentioning wasabout "this new diet" that apparently is becoming a fad (I don’t even rememberwhat it was about). And suddenly, one woman went off script, probably in anattempt to appear real and relatable. She started talking about how "she’stried every diet out there", pointed to her co-anchor and asked her "how doyou do it? because you’re so thinand wow, and you probably don’t need to diet"… And the other one replied "OMGwhat are you talking about? You’re so wrong, I’m not that thin, and of course I diet…" "Oh do you? Becausereally, I’m dieting all the time, etc.,etc." Needless to say, both of these women seemed VERY small to me, a lot smaller than their average viewer, let’s put it this way.

I almost felt like I was watching a scene from Mean Girls, and just like that, these women had unfortunately lost most of their professional credibility. I mean the tone was so whiny, insecure, almost childish, completely the opposite of assertive and empowering… And I thought, are westill at that point, now, in 2012? Do grown women who are obviously extremely successful,talented, driven, and attractive stillneed to revert to that voice? You know, thatunlikable voice that is all at once passive aggressive towards other women,desperate for physical validation (as if EVERYTHING depended on it), andimplying that you’ll never be physically good enough?

Have you ever heard the clichéd phrase that if women ruled the world, it would be sucha better place? That instead of waging wars, women would be busy nurturing, working towards resolving inequities, etc.? I’m a feminist and I do see some truth into that, but youknow what I think would also unfortunately happen? Lots of foggy reasoning dueto the sheer exhaustion caused by being starved all the time.

I had somesort of an epiphany. All of this is BS! I know that I used that voice a fewtimes too, I know that I’m certainly not immune to that, and I’m sorry if I’vebeen annoying. But honestly, I deserve better than that. And more thananything, my daughter, and all of our daughters, deserve better than that! Ijust wanted some impersonating-common-sense-actor to appear on screen like inthese banking ads I’ve been seeing and to say: "You don’t want to diet? Then it’ssimple: just don’t diet."

Diets goagainst all common sense. Anything that leads you to eat in a non-natural way (drinkingonly water for a week, low-carb, high protein/fat, shakes, pills, cookies, skippingmeals, processed diet foods, eating just soup, weird/kooky combinations, whatnot) is not bound to work(at least not durably) and is bound to ruin your health and metabolism in theprocess. There is no magic in this: to maintain a healthy weight, youhave to have a healthy lifestyle, and you have to reach a balance between thecalories you ingest and the ones you burn. If you give your body what it’ssupposed to eat: lots of produce, good protein, not too much meat, whole grains,while avoiding junk and processed food say 90% of the time, then you won’t likelyever have to diet. I’m not saying that some readjustment cannot sometimes benecessary – I’m certainly not exemplary when it comes to this and typically once or twicea year I realize that my clothes become tight, and then I have to pay a littlemore attention and get back on track for a little while. But full-onembarking on a “diet” that involves starving yourself, eating oddly, andletting your life be controlled by food and a number on the scale? NO.

So I herebyresolve not to discuss this here anymore, and especially not to use that voice anymore, neither here orespecially in real life. I need to set a good example for my daughter, I needto teach her good, sensible eating habits that she can then live with for herlifetime, and I need her to learn that there is no correlation whatsoever between her sizeand her self-worth, period. I need her to learn that there’s no point and noneed to compare herself to other women –beauty really does come in different packages.And to teach her that, well, I guess that I have to start doing it myself.

Does thismean I’ll stop caring? No… I want to be healthy, I want to maximize my chances,and yes, frankly, I care about how I look. I am happier when I have controlover things, and while I do need to learn to let go a little, I also need toaccept that this is my very nature. But I certainly don’t have to whine aboutit (what was the point anyway? What was she trying to achieve by remarking onair that her co-anchor was so thin, especially when she was clearly just as thin? That’s just messed up all over). I don’t have to make itsound like dieting is an all-the-time, so hard but mandatory state in order to fitin. I don't have to make it seem like this has any more importance that it should (not very much). And I certainly don’t have to state or imply that my happinessor self-esteem or purpose is in any way linked to this.

Well, now I’mhungry.

Since food is always on my mind...

2012-01-09T05:30:00.000-05:00

And since I'm now, you know, a serious food blogger and sh*t ;-)...

Plainly, this is the most interesting, sane, simple yet-oh-so-true, and especially closer to my own perspective and thought process conversation I've ~~heard~~ read on food for a long, long time.

The presentation on Grist.org is enticing enough: It's unanimous these days: Cooking food from scratch at home is one of the best ways to eat sustainably without breaking the bank. It also enables eaters to easily support food producers who use environmentally sound, ethical, and humane practices. But most Americans can't pull this off regularly. We recently invited Kurt Michael Friese and Tamar Adler -- two people who have strong feelings about the importance of home cooking -- to have a conversation for Grist. Adler is a chef, cooking teacher, and the author of the new book An Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace; Friese is a chef, the editor of Edible Iowa River Valley, and the author of two books, including A Cook's Journey: Slow Food in the Heartland and Chasing Chiles: Hot Spots on the Chile Trail

"I think Americans have been sold a bill of goods: I think they've been coerced into believing that cooking is a chore akin to washing windows, something to be avoided if possible and then done as quickly and grudgingly as they can manage. Too many people believe they don't have the time. That's the most common excuse anyway. And of course they do -- it's all a matter of priorities".

"We have a very skewed relationship to the act of cooking. The thing about priorities is that if we don't know what cooking actually means -- that is, the kind of cooking that makes deep sense in our lives -- then of course we don't have time, or money. It takes a very long time to cook in a way that isn't sustainable, and it's very expensive. And it makes sense to feel bullied by being told to make something that takes a long time and costs a lot of money a priority. But of course, that's not what we're saying. It just takes a lot of explaining and careful guidance to show the whole picture of cooking, and how much it can give you, if you do it with a certain mindset."

"The means of producing our food has been meanly wrested from our hands, and we need it back. It sounds like a great communist exercise when I put it like that, but it's fundamental to our sovereignty to have the means to feed ourselves."

All in

2012-01-06T05:30:00.000-05:00

Whether we sell our place or not, we have to take ownership of the new house on April 1st. That's in less than three months, D-day minus 85.

We're finding ourselves in a situation we (perhaps naively) never imagined could have happened when we decided to trade up back in August: a few weeks away from having two houses to support.

What's wrong with your house?, you might be asking yourself right now. And honestly, we wished we knew. It does have many flaws, both some we expected (the damn gigantic old, unapealing ~~concrete hole~~ swimming pool, the fact that our driveway is only large enough for one car (but long enough for 2)), as well as tons that we never saw coming (the furnace is old (but it works perfectly!), the chimney is not in its best form (but we got it inspected and we're making fires all the time!) the basement two storage rooms are not great (do they have to be staged? They're storage rooms! And there are two of them!), some windows are original (but we changed all the main ones, and the other ones are reliable aluminim, not say, wood that can rot!), the AC doesn't work (touché)... At the beginning, we thought our house still had positive features to offset that (three good-sized upstairs bedrooms, gorgeous hardwood floors, two fireplaces, an exposed brick wall, renovated and functional bathrooms, a nice "vibe", etc.), but apparently, no. Every single improvement we've done (we've worked hard and spent about 8K, not to mention the expensive storage unit we rent out) that we thought would be a plus actually turns out to be more of a neutral, underwhelming thing for buyers.

Even though some (maybe a quarter to a third?) of the people who came probably shouldn't have in the first place -the showing was booked by their agent as a "filler" when it didn't correspond to their needs, after 31 ~~quite disruptive and time-consuming~~ showings and four or five coming-really-close anticlimaxes, we've lost our perspective completely. We don't know anymore if we have a good offer, we don't know anymore whether our taste is worth anything, we don't know what to expect, we don't know what to believe. We're just completely lost.

The pictures on our listing were taken by a great photographer (hired by our agent), and while this most likely brings showings, it's probably a fact that it looks bigger and more interesting than the actual property turns out to be. So maybe it's part of the problem: high hopes, followed by inevitable disappointment? One thing is for sure though: something about our house is off-putting to buyers. And after over four months, some people certainly view it as stale already.

As a comparison, we are priced pretty much the same as things like that (actual current listings in our town. I swear that ALL the photos from that first listing are this mind-blowingly awful and out-of-focus. Also, the people from the second listing have stolen my parents' kitchen stools from the 70s! And, that master bedroom there? Whoa. Someone sure did not get the memo about depersonalizing, decluttering and staging...)

Up until May, all the houses in our neighbourhood sold really quickly and easily, regardless of their state. But since, it's been a standstill. Only two houses have sold since we put ours on the market: one which was significantly underpriced (owned by a panicked old lady who was moving into a retirement facility), and the other which we're pretty sure was some kind of an "arranged" thing (the agent put up the sold sign at the same time as the for sale sign). That's the only reassuring point, I guess: we're not alone in this situation. We still, I think, compare favorably to our competition. But nothing is moving.

In terms of asking price, we've lowered ours by 10K and are lower than everything else around. One of our neighbours has also been trying to sell since the summer. His house is a little bigger and nicer than ours, but at the same time, doesn't have a garage or a finished basement. It's 50K more expensive. The other two closest ones are exactly comparable to ours, and they're both 30K higher. But these don't sell, you might point out. And you're right, but we still thought that this would reflect favorably on our house.

At this point, I'm really eager to cut down another 10K and get.it.over.with. But M, and our agent, and my mom (who was once an agent), all tell me that for now we should keep a prudent stance. OK so even if we move without selling, it means no peace of mind whatsoever and a lot of financial stretching, but then, quite a number of months would have to pass before we've spent 10K maintaining this house post-move.

So these next few weeks are really crucial for us, and the only reason why we've presented our offer for the new house with an 8-month lag: we knew that January, February and March are the busiest months for the real estate market here, totalling about 70% of all transactions for the whole year. It all comes down to this: we are now literally, in pokerspeak, all in. We've been holding on to the hope that from this week on, something will magically change. Maybe not necessarily that we're going to have a lot more showings, because we've always had them, but that the seriousness, readiness and mindset of the buyers will be different.

That our much awaited buyers, people who are aware of the house's less than great sides but are still focused on its positives ones, will walk in, and see themselves living there. That they will think it's still a good value, and will be ready to plunge.

That we'll finally be able to put our minds to rest.

New year, new project

2012-01-03T07:59:00.000-05:00

You want to know a very big highlight of 2011? One I was so busy with everything happening that I didn't completely realized happened until I did and then paused with joy and was taken over by a wonderful feeling of comfort for the first time in a long while?

A four year-old dream came true, one that I have been keeping in the back of my mind ever since starting this blog in early 2008.

I've been offered to become a professional blogger.

And in French too, which makes me want to sing, because even though I LOVE writing in English, over time I started to feel that I missed doing it in my first language, as well.

So I'm an official, contracted food blogger over at Sympatico now (they're the Web branch of Bell, which is a very big telecom provider/media company here. I don't know much about their analytics, but it's probably a top-20 website in Quebec in terms of traffic).

I'm doing one post a week, which is clearly not enough to sustain a living, but could, once our house sells, once we're settled and don't have this financial disaster looming upon us anymore, maybe allow me to cut back hours at my day job. I'm keeping my fingers crossed on this one really hard, anyway.

This project is incredibly fun, and I'm really grateful for them giving me my chance even if I'm not a big name (they have a total of ten bloggers, a truly fantastic crowd, whom I all recently met for a fun let's-gather-the-team-over-brunch event I already mentioned).

If you read French, please come over!

Goodbye, 2011

2011-12-31T08:28:00.003-05:00

You were not a completely disastrous year (there were many positive things about you, like enjoying precious time off on mat leave, getting to know our new daughter, watching our kids grow, going to California twice and buying our "dream" house), but honestly, you really weren't the greatest year, either, and you threw your fair share of s* our (and the world's) way, too. So I'm having somewhat mixed feelings about you, and I'm not very sad to see you go.

Let's revisit last year's resolutions:

Be there in the moment with my kids and my husband. Pay attention. (Not great. I still need to work on that. It's REALLY important!!!)
Properly launch the flower business. (Meh. I have business cards and a FB page, now. That's pretty much it).
Be more patient. I am usually but unfortunately this is directly related to the fifth resolution.(Passing grade, but no more).
Lose the baby weight. (Yeah I guess, give or take a few pounds).
Catch up on my sleep. Haha! Good one. I'm so funny! (Nope, quite the opposite).
Resume my blogging schedule. (Nope).
By the time my mat leave is up in October, have enough freelancing clients and work so that I can avoid going back to a corporate job, a full-time one at the very least. That's clearly the tough one. (Well, there's some progress but overall fail).

See, not very good year at all. I give myself a D+. :-(

(Here are 2010, and 2009).

As for now...

Learn to let go better.
Learn to let go some more.
Write.
Be there in the moment with my kids and husband. Pay attention. (!!!)
Become a better, more zen person.
Be generally more positive, and not fall back so quickly into my negative "defense" stance.
Make time to work out, because my quality of life is crazy lessened when I don't, like now.
Try to finds way to achieve my one main goal and make progress in that long-term thing: work/life balance, having more time with my children.

And a wish, which I wish harder than any other wish I've ever wished for in my life:

That we sell our house in the very near future, so our move into the new one is filled with nothing but happiness, relief, positive vibes, domestic and family bliss, looking ahead of us, moving on, fun "problems" such as buying a new sofa, etc., instead of becoming an official financial, logistical, and very stressful nightmare.

Happy New Year everyone!!! And welcome 2012!!!

What can I say, I like these things

2011-12-28T05:30:00.000-05:00

Time Magazine's The Top 10 Everything of 2011.

Will and Kate, Occupy, vegetarism as a food trend, the Arab Spring, that evil, evil song Friday, planking, the Japan tsunami, Steve Jobs, Herman Cain and his defiantly cigarette-smoking buddy, Carla and Beyoncé's bumps, Utoya, DSK, Siri... It's all there.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T05:30:00.000-05:00

May your day be merry and bright...

Potatoes in sweets!?!

2011-12-22T05:30:00.000-05:00

Potatoes sure have a special place on the Holiday table around here... Not only because they prominently feature in my home region's specialty (tourtière), but surprinsly, in desserts, too. This never occured to me as odd, until now.

But good odd, or maybe, just nostalgically good odd for me.

Like a lot of people do around here during the Holidays, my mother makes fried donuts every year, which we eat dipped in powder sugar. True story: the Christmas I spent in Germany, my mother sent me a care package, which included all kinds of things that reminded me of home. Even a Ziploc bag full of her donuts. And since she (needlessly) feared I could not get my hands on powder sugar there, she also included a bag of the stuff. Yes, you're read that right. My mom once sent me a small plastic bag full of white powder overseas. And it never got opened.

Anyway, her recipe calls for... you've guessed it, potatoes. They apparently give a pleasant chewiness to the fried dough.

My mom's potato donuts

1 cup cold mashed potatoes
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons melted butter
1 1/2 cup of all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon yeast
1/2 cup of milk
Oil for deep-frying

Add the sugar and butter to the mashed potatoes. Sift the flour with the yeast and mix in slowly, alternating with the milk. Let the dough rest for 30 minutes. Roll out the dough onto a floured surface to about an 3/4 inch thick, cut donut shape with cutter (or alternatively, a glass and a sewing dice). Pour oil into a large pot, heat to 325 F, and carefully fry the donuts a few at a time, until golden brown (which only takes a minute or two)! Take out with a slotted spoon and place on paper towels to drain excess oil.

__________________________________

Potatoes are also the star ingredient of another sweet that reminds me of my childhood a lot. Contrary to the donuts, I haven't seen or eaten it in years, though. It's gotten out of fashion, which I guess is a little understable, but still sad. I mean, it was good, but it also makes me realize this was the product of a (largely gone) society which didn't really have elaborate means, skills, or fancy tastes... Just like tourtière, it's more of an unrefined thing that people came up with because they "didn't have much and had to make do".

Potato candy

1/2 cold mashed potatoes
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 cups powder sugar
1/3 cup peanut butter (smooth or crunchy, your choice)

Mix the vanilla with the potatoes. Mix in the sugar, a little at a time with a wooden spoon. Knead the dough a little, until firm but supple, a little like pâte brisée. Place parchment or wax paper onto a work surface, spinkle with a little powder sugar, and roll out the dough. Heat peanut butter into the microwave for a few seconds, then spread over dough.While lifting the paper as a guide, roll the dough onto itself to form a log. Wrap in plastic, and chill in the fridge for an hour. Cut log into slices, which will look like little spirals.

Seriously, the potato/sugar mix seems unlikely, but it works!

Baby steps (literally)

2011-12-21T05:30:00.000-05:00

F, 13 months, has been standing on her own for over a week now. And yesterday, while she was standing in the kitchen besides me, she flashed her big smile and cautiously but very deliberately took one tiny little step, then another. Then she fell on her butt. (Another new thing: this morning while I was dressing her she said: "baybé, baybé?!" So I asked her who the baby was and for the first time, she pointed to herself, grinning knowingly and proudly). The path towards walking is not always linear and we don't expect that she'll start doing it tomorrow, but we're getting close now. A few weeks, maybe?

Which brings me to this little theory I have about kids who are going to daycare and first learning how to walk. Did you ever notice how parents always seem to point out that their child first walks on nights or weekends, i.e. when they are with them? Given that they spend much, if not the majority of their time in daycare, wouldn't it be logical that this very important milestone sometimes happen while there, as well? But I've yet to hear anyone say or write on FB: "Yay! The babysitter told me Thomas started walking today!" It's always like: "Wow, I'm so proud of my kid, I just saw him walk for the first time over the weekend, such a precious moment!"

We are no exception: officially, LP started walking at 14 months, on a Tuesday night at home. But did he really???

So here's my two-cent theory: for many of those kids it probably does happen at daycare. But while we usually have excellent communication with the teachers and we always inform each other of progress, hurdles, schedules, etc., the teachers may have an unwritten rule, which is to keep mum to the parents about this. They of course don't do it because they are mean or rude, but out of consideration, to let the parents "have" this such magical, meaningful, symbolic moment to themselves. To prevent stealing their thunder, so to speak.

I don't think that if confronted, they would lie, but maybe when it happens they just spontaneously decide not to let the parents know... Until the next day (or a few days later) when they come back, beaming, with the exciting news.

Do you think I'm nuts for extrapolating that? I sort of can't wait to see if, "by coicidence", F will also start walking at home with us...

Work and...social media

2011-12-19T09:42:00.002-05:00

Interesting article in the latest issue of Connection, yes the Costco magazine (cue light blushing due to quoting of a rather embarrassing and dubious source).

Far from stating that employees surfing the Web and checking their Facebook feed are wasting their and their companies' time, it rather remarks that it could be viewed as vital for the employees' team spirit, well-being and sense of belonging.Companies should accept/embrace social networking at work and consider that it can even increase productivity.

According to a 2010 study, employees who spend up to TWENTY PERCENT of their time on the Web show a 12% increase of productivity when compared to non-wired ones. One out of five of their days...! According to some business consulting experts, watching a funny little video on Youtube during a hectic workday can provide a beneficial pause from ongoing projects and stressful deadlines, which in turn allow employees to "achieve overall better concentration." Social media additionally increases autonomy, consistency, as well as creativity. The boss of an engineering firm is also quoted as saying that "as long as employees meet their deadlines, he didn't care how they managed the use of their time." He added that he believed this approach "improved the employees' involvement and loyalty".

The only downsides presented are possible breaches in security, as well as potential confidentiality and company image issues.

My own office policy stipulates that personal Internet use is tolerated as long as it doesn't compromise security and productivity... However, sites like Facebook, Twitter and Youtube are blocked.

Thoughts?

Will you be my Lucy?

2011-12-16T10:01:00.002-05:00

I recently went to a very interesting breakfast with local bloggers (if you read French, check out these super cool fahion chicks: Audrée and Julia -who sells her jewelery at Anthropologie!- and this dude (Patrick) too!), in relation to a little something that has been stirring around these parts (I will soon come back to it, promise). I was obviously the imposter in the group, among these people who have PR and who matter and are involved in great projects and have big readerships and such. I was sitting next to Claudia, this beautiful, warm, articulate, smart, semi-famous woman who's writing books and articles in real papers and is sometimes seen/heard on TV/radio, and she impressed me probably more than all of the others...

And after all I was thinking was, why didn't I follow this path, too? Montreal's milieu is relatively small, and it's not so hard to make your mark... I had everything going for me: I studied in the right place (same program, same university as her), and mingled with the right people who had the connections and the means (among other things, I was friends with her, who got her memoir/master's thesis published and instantly became a cultural landmark (the book even became a successful movie). There was also her, who was a good friend of Claudia by the way (she presented a very touching hommage at her funeral)). Without thinking that I am the-most-fantastic-writer-there-ever-was, I still believe that I have some talent, clearly not a genius-level one but still a little bit of one that maybe could have taken me somewhere other than a prefab desk... My personality and presentation aren't so bad, and sometimes, I even have things to say (a minority of which I think is turning out to be somewhat relevant).

It isn't about jealousy or envy (I'm pretty satisfied with my life and don't think I'm a failure either), or entitlement... It isn't about fame, or a constant and bigger-than-average craving for validation/recognition (altough like everyone else I do think that having it is nice once in a while)... It's more about self-achievement really, about being brave enough to talk the talk, to decide that you will do what you really love and just make your life around it. About putting all the effort necessary to make this happen. About putting yourself out there.

It was just one of these realizations that suddenly hit you: I am a chronic underachiever. I owed it to myself to try harder, to push harder, to at least do something. I didn't. In three and a half years I'll be officially middle-aged, and I didn't. Instead, I bemoaned, hid, avoided, sulked, felt sorry for my a*s, sabotaged myself a few times and generally showed a pathetic lack of drive. I mean, even the blog is a manifesto of that: there are several different reasons that led me to write in English (it was the language of the communities I was part of, I wanted to see if I could and test my second-language ability, etc.), but there is also maybe 10% that is pure avoidance: by writing in a different language, I didn't even expose myself to that milieu that both fascinated and terrified me.

So. I pinpointed that the reason for me earning a living writing user guides and online help files instead of novels (short stories, essays, articles, whatever, stuff that people actually want to read) is pretty much the same reason why the current house-on-the-market-dragging-on-forever situation is turning into one of the most difficult periods of my life: I deal so f badly with rejection. I much prefer to wrap myself in negativity and self-loathing than to actually dare (hoping, doing).

That's all.

App du jour

2011-12-12T13:00:00.001-05:00

This year, LP is "in the spirit of Christmas" times 100. We wrote a letter to Santa last week (in which he sweetly asked for a present for his sister, because she's not big enough to talk yet), and over the weekend, ~~my mother~~ Santa sent him a personalized video in which the Père Noël confirmed that he received his letter. "That's strange though", LP remarked. "A toy airplane is not what I asked Santa in my letter at all, it's rather what I asked grandma..."

Apart from our lovely little Nutcracker tradition (LP can now even often be heard whistling the Sugar Plum Fairy dance) we are also very big on A Charlie Brown Christmas nowadays. M found us a wonderful interactive app for the ipad, and you know how much I ~~identify with~~ love Charlie Brown right?

This is by far my favorite way of using the device, for books, magazines and such little animations, because it adds such a level of richness in the layout, such a fun layer of interactivity, etc. Graphic designers usually go above an beyond for these apps, and it truly makes me fall in love with reading electronically again.

The app narrates the story over little scenes from the movie, while incorporating the music and adding lots of little fun extras. LP can decorate the Christmas tree that will be revealed at the end, can help Snoopy decorate his doghouse for the Lights and Display contest, and can do all kinds of little tricks like turning lights on and off, etc. His favorite part, though, is playing the famous Linus and Lucy song on a little pop-up piano, and then watching the kids dance.

LP doesn't really understand why Charlie is so sad, but he enjoys Lucy, Linus, Sally, Snoopy and the others tremendously. The other day at the store, he even became entranced when he spotted something on a shelf, his whole face lighting up. It was a replica of the sad little tree Charlie picks up at the lot, the one that "needs him". We all had a laugh and then we bought it for him. It made him happier that I had ever seen him. Charlie, Christmas is not religious for us, so we have to find its meaning elsewhere... But I think that really, *this* is what Christmas is all about.

If anyone is intested, you can find the app here. I highly recommend it!

Let's buy a book!

2011-12-07T09:04:00.001-05:00

Today is a really big day for my friend Meg: it's the official buy-in day for her new book A Practical Wedding!

Go see her post and order her book online! I did. (Not just because I'm quoted in it, OK? Because it's good! But I did get copies for my parents, whom I'm hoping will like the fact that their daughter's name is in a real book somewhere, even if she never ended up writing one of her own.)

The link for the Canadian Amazon website is here, by the way.

Congrats again, Meg!

Have you seen it?

2011-12-05T05:00:00.000-05:00

The "I love you baby" homebirth photo that's in the running for the National Geographic Picture of the year contest?

If you haven't, then you can do so here. (Consider yourself warned, this is NSFW!). (The link is to a Babble article talking about it by the way. The numerous comments (on FB, at least), were very entertaining, from the "Ewwww" to the "Girll canot be preggos, she too skinny!")

What do you think? I *do* agree that birth is beautiful and natural, the moment captured is striking, births don't always have to take place at an hospital, etc. I personally certainly wouldn't want photos like that to be public or much less go viral, but to each their own.

But there's something that irks me just the tiniest bit about it all. I can't quite put my finger on it. How crazy stylized and even staged it looks. Black and white, lighting that looks like it was endlessly studied, female body with perfectly pleasing proportions, perfectly empowering (as opposed to humble or vulnerable) position taken from a perfectly flattering angle, full-on flawless makeup, not a hair out of place, not a drop of sweat, no blood or messiness or fluid whatsoever to be seen...

Do births also have to be friggin' photoshoots now???

The surprise

2011-12-01T08:57:00.000-05:00

I received the book at the office on Monday. I had planned to show it to the kids that night, but then LP threw a stupid, completely out-of-the-blue tantrum in the boulangerie so we had a discussion in which we repeated again that these were becoming unaceptable. That we were so tired of them. That he would start school soon and that doing these in school would put him in a lot of trouble he really didn't want to be in. That there were consequences to this, including no TV for a week (which, let's face, always makes us spend a better week anyway), and no surprise for now. If he wanted the little Christmas surprise he was supposed to receive, he would have to behave irreproachably until Thursday night. (That night, after I put him to bed, he called me into his bedroom again. "Mamaaaan"..."Quoi mon loup?" "I want to talk to you". He was looking very serious. I sat on his bed. "There won't be any tantrums anymore. I'm done with them." His tone was different. He meant it. Somehow, he had understood something from our little talk earlier. And of course I didn't expect them to disappear completely just like that, but this was good. I covered him with kisses.)

Thursday night came. He had done really well for three days, including at daycare. After dinner, I pulled out the book.

Immediately, I could see that he was a little disappointed. "But... It's for girls...," he said. The fact is I hadn't really bought this just for him, but for the both of them. So we could start a little holiday tradition of our own, reading the book during this season while listening to the wonderful music... And I will always remember seeing The Nutcracker ballet for the first time years and years ago, sitting next to a primp mom and her two young boys, who stayed quiet and watched with fascination.

He was still willing to give this a go. At storytime we three lied on his bed and opened the book. I found the soundtrack adapted for kids on the ipad, and played it. I started to tell them the story, not reading the book so much (it's in English) but marveling at the wonderful pop-up vignettes, pointing at details and talking about Clara and her brother Fritz and the Mouse King and the Sugar Plum Fairy and such.

After five minutes F was picked up by her father and put to bed (she's in that very high maintenance "I have SO MUCH to explore and YOU WON'T make me stay in place for even a second!" phase that precedes walking, anyway). I stayed with LP and we continued being whisked away to the wintry Christmas Woods, being wowed by the Chinese dancers bringing tea, being amazed by the Candy Palace in Confiturembourg. LP was completely invested, attached to the characters, transported by the music, his eyes and his mouth wide open.

And right there and then, it felt like I had reached one of these too-rare moments of complete parental enlightement, introducing my son to Tchaikovsky and to the Russian culture I have always been so drawn to, feeling a connection had truly been made. Lying next to his warm little body, watching him take the music and the magic in, felt perhaps closer than I had ever been to touching the sublime.

Happy happy joy joy

2011-11-28T06:00:00.000-05:00

Tell me, who wouldn't dream of being declared "the happiest woman of" anything?...

Who, me? Ha! I can count my many blessings, and I'm fairly happy I guess, but can you please ask me back this question when I can sleep through the night again, and don't have the feeling I'm always running around like a headless chicken anymore?

USA Today recently ran a profile on what makes women happy, and even portrayed a real-life person who most closely embodies the components.

So meet the Happiest Woman in America: Mary Claire Orenic (here with her family).

She's 50, and she lives in Manhattan Beach, a very nice, affluent LA suburb. She has a 17 year old son, who's doing well in school as well as in sports, and is pretty autonomous. She's happily married to an optometrist, and has a meaningful full-time executive job at Siemens (for which she telecommutes twice a week). She grew up in Wisconsin, and achieved her childhood dream of forgoing frigid winters to go live by the sea in sunny SoCal (this dream sounds vaguely familiar, wink-wink). She has traveled quite a bit, both during her single years as a twenty-something, and now through her job. Fitness is a priority for her, as is, evidently, maintaining her (rail-thin) figure. Her parents are healthy, which means that they are not a source of worry for her. She has an active social life, and many people she knows she can depend on. She loves her house and her community. You can read more about her here.

So here are the nuts and bolts of this well-being as stated or hinted from the article:

A strong partnership, including a chance to rekindle the relationship when children are grown
Kids, but not too many of them
No people that heavily depend on you
Fulfilling career ("Younger Boomers of highest well-being are the most career-oriented of any women. Most work full time, a striking difference from younger and older generations of high well-being women, most of whom do not work". )
Loved ones are doing well
Caucasian
Relative financial security ("They enjoy a family income of $120,000 and up. Money is important but not top priority.")
Strong support network
Positive attitude
Pleasant physical surroundings (including climate)
Short commute
Time for exercise
Healthy lifestyle
BMI under 30.

(Full well-being checklist here).

There aren't many surprises there... Under these circumstances, who wouldn't be happy? But I'm wondering... Are these necessary to be happy (both the factors you can control and the ones you can't?), or can you be happy regardless because you just decide to be? Does it all sound like bs to you? The fact is this woman carved herself what some commenters referred to as "the perfect life"... She worked hard, stayed focused on achieving her goals, relocated, and carefully assessed her decisions, and I have immense respect for that. But granted, there is also a lot of luck and (when you think of it, incredible) chance in having been mostly sheltered from life's tragedies... A lot of bitterness in the comments seems to indicate that the average level of happiness in USA Today readers is *very low*, by the way.

There are some givens (like living somewhere nice and sunny), some slippery slopes (hinting that well-being and young children are not entirely compatible, which I'm not completely disagreeing with), and some harsh, unfortunate, unfair and crazy but still probably somewhat true indicators (racial background, weight)...

What do you think?

The underground city

2011-11-24T06:00:00.000-05:00

I didn't grow up in Montreal, and I can only remember coming here a few times as a child or even a teenager. I had ridden in the metro once I think, to go to La Ronde. So before actually moving here at 19, I certainly was no expert. Thus, I think it's funny that during my first trip to France at 17, several people mentioned the same thing to me: "Montreal? Isn't it where there is this big underground city where people live and eat and shop and work without ever getting out?" At the time, I didn't really know what to tell them. Could it really be possible? Could it be possible AND I had never even heard of it?

Of course, now, I know what these people meant. I am now back to work downtown after a four-year absence from the area. And my office tower is connected to a Montreal peculiarity called the RÉSO -a 32 km long network of underground tunnels, shopping malls, office buildings, cinemas, metro and railway stations, hotels, universities, residential complexes, restaurants, congress centers, and so on. It covers about 12 square kilometers, and is considered to be the largest underground network in the world (even though compared to most others I've seen around the world our metro is tiny).

About 35% of downtown buildings are connected this way, there are over 150 access points to it, and it is used by about half a million people every day.

You can guess that the harsh winters have played an important role in this big urban project, because yes, it's very convenient when it's crazy cold (or during a snowstorm) to just leave my desk without a coat on and while wearing my dressy shoes, take the escalator to the tunnel, walk a bit and just emerge elsewhere (where I can get lunch, run an errand at the drugstore, do a bit of shopping, etc.) During lunch hour on winter weekdays, you can easily spot which people are part of the network (wearing normal clothes, no wet or crazy hair, etc.) and which people are not (heavy winter gear, red faces, sniffles).

But. Even if they are well-lit, tunnels are tunnels and as much as possible, I try to steer clear of them. It is usually quicker to get where you need to go by actually using the streets, not to mention that the fresh air is much more invigorating. Whether under or on the ground, people are hurried just the same, but I will always prefer the company of non-subterraneans.

As for the lore these French people alluded to with this almost dreamy air to them, about a self-contained fully functional city people never have to leave, well, it's much more legend than truth. Even though it is technically possible for someone to have their apartment, place of work or study, grocery store, gym, hair salon, clinic, bank, etc. all connected through the metro, the actual number of people who are in this situation is probably very low. In 15 years here, I have yet to meet even one of them! Not to mention that winter or no winter, I can't imagine the cabin fever after a while.

One word

2011-11-23T09:38:00.001-05:00

Glitterama.

(Or how silly crafts can suddenly antagonize a whole community and messily explode into politicalness, perplexing racial comments and homophobic stances, the darker side of perfect-on-the-surface lifestyle blogs, Mormons, and the simultaneous fascination/uneasiness they inspire (me, anyway)).

We were on TV!

2011-11-21T06:00:00.000-05:00

The shoot happened in April, when baby F was just 5 months old, but it only aired two weeks ago.

I had completely forgotten about it until a friend told me she saw us last week! So the show (which I had never watched, but I must say is good) is called Génération Inc., and provides advice and recommendations to local businesses facing new challenges (growth, financing, marketing, etc.) In this episode, the company was doing well manufacturing marshmallow rice treat bars sold under other brands, but they had come up with a new product -snack bars made entirely out of fruit- and they weren't sure whether or not they should market it on their own in this highly competitive market.

So we three (LP was there too, although you don't really see him on screen) were interviewed at our organic supermarket, asked to taste and review the product. The interview lasted about 10 minutes, only 15 seconds of which you see, but essentially I said that I liked the product, and would definitely buy it again, as I tried to encourage local products. It ended up being edited out, but I also remember saying that I would update the packaging to make it sleeker, more modern, more attractive. Which, if you understand French, you will see is exactly what the design expert recommended right before the supermarket segment. (I saw the product on the shelves just today: the packaging is still the same, a little dated and not-so-great).

The show was split into four parts: this is part 3.You can see us for a few seconds at a time between 3:20 and 3:55.

P.S. I hadn't lost all the baby weight then. Also, my hair has grown a lot since and it reminds me that this was a good haircut for me...

Last weekend, there was...

2011-11-17T06:00:00.000-05:00

Pannetone for breakfast.

A spontaneous, general bursting into song (Lean on Me) with a baby clapping her hands and dancing in her high chair.

A life-size, animated dinosaur expo.

A walk into the Old Port, where we saw a huge Coast Guard ship.

A dinner downtown, just the four of us, full of laughter and good spirits.

A baby who slept through the night three times in a row, as well as a boy who didn't wake up once, resulting in a mommy sleeping for seven hours straight for the first time in... years?

A beautiful drive in the Vermont countryside, including an excellent, impromptu lunch in this cute town we had never heard of.

A reminder that life is beautiful, and life is good. That sowewhere among the current stress and tension and lack of time, our family dynamic is there, intact. That the house will eventually sell. That this real estate market situation won't always take our life and our family hostage, that on the other side there is our dream house, our well-deserved prize, our starting anew and starting afresh. That one day, soon, we won't just drive by while sighing and talking about all we'll able to do there (having giant Christmas trees thanks to the cathedral ceiling, making snowmen in a yard we can finally play in, stroll in the golf course with the sleighs) but we will park into the driveway, put the key in, and open the door. That 24 showings plus 12 couples at the open house, and four quasi-offers that all slipped through our fingers only mean that we are getting closer, and closer, to finding our buyers.

Better disposables

2011-11-14T08:45:00.000-05:00

Since F is now going to daycare full-time, we have unfortunately reduced our usage of cloth diapers... Our daycare provides them, and I did toy with the idea of trying to convince them to accept the cloth ones, but in the end I decided not to. Even tough I really think it would be more cost-effective for them to switch in the long run, I think they (and especially most of the parents) are not ready for the mindset change yet. We still get a lot of perplexed reactions/grossed-out looks when we mention we are doing them, so I know it would be a very hard sell.

Maybe one day, tough. For the record, I fully intend to pass my diapers on to someone else, when the time comes. It's part of their appeal: they can be reused again and again.

In the meantime, I have to say that I have never even bought one package of "conventional" disposable diapers since F was born. The selection of green, natural, and/or compostable diapers has tremendously grown since LP was wearing them, which is fantastic. There are the President's Choice Green ones (which are often on sale at $7.99 a pack, an incredible bargain), the Seventh Generation bleach-free ones, the Huggies Pure & Natural organic ones, the Attitude compostable and carbon-neutral ones...

But by far, my favorites are the Nature Babycare. I can only find them at my organic supermarket, but I try to buy them as often as I can. They're from Sweden (are you surprised? I am not. The Swedes have got it, period); the company was founded by an attorney/mom of two boys, who was concerned about the environmental impact of her choices, but couldn't fit cloth diapering into her schedule.

They're chlorine-free, as natural as can be, and almost fully biodegradable. The absorbent material is corn-based, and no chemicals are used. They are just as absorbent as the big brands, really (F wears a disposable all night, for instance, and leaks are very rare). Plus, they're incredibly cute, with little hand-drawn-like designs on them. I like their whole packaging design, unsurprisingly. I'm probably the only one that cares about this, but I just find it so much appealing/esthetically pleasing than the ones used by major brands...

Yes, they're more expensive than the big brands, but not outrageously so. I think it's worth it anyway. I see this as a whole circle now: the little extra you pay out-of-pocket now will end up helping you save elsewhere someday, one way or another (even if just through a healthier planet when my grandchildren are born). Once every couple of months they get on sale, and then I do the same thing I do for more expensive organic/natural food: I stock up to save.

Ever since F started coming back wearing a conventional one at the end of the day, something I didn't remember at all came back to me: the stentch. Huggies and Pampers diapers have a smell to them, an unpleasant one, which I didn't notice that much back when LP was a baby because I knew no alternative, but which now seems unmistakable. None of the green diapers smell like that, so I reckon it probably has to do with either the gel-material they use for absorbency, or to other chemicals present; I'm not reassured by either possibility, anyway. I've also noticed that F tends to get diaper rash a lot more often now that she used to... The ones she brings back from daycare also just feel less natural and soft, more plasticky to the touch.

Please check the Nature Babycare website for retailers. I receive absolutely no compensation for this, but I've decided to become one of their "ambassadors," because when you find such a great, sensible, ethical, well-thought of, and effective product that comes from the heart like that, you just have to try helping them out and spreading the word.

Snapshot

2011-11-10T06:01:00.000-05:00

Getting off work, 5:05 PM, Tuesday.

Montreal, I love you right now, while the air is so unseasonably warm, while even your very core seems to get to a standstill for a second, while you make up for the early darkness by putting on an early sparkly light show.

A birthday

2011-11-07T20:53:00.000-05:00

Today my daughter turned one.

Soon I won't even have anyone I can call bébé anymore.

Happy birthday, precious little girl. I love you to the moon and back.

(She couldn't blow her candle on her own so her brother obliged...)

(Courtesy of a friend)

Kids complementing each other

2011-10-30T07:33:00.002-04:00

You probably know by now that LP's favorite pastime is playing with toy cars. And incidentally, spreading them across the floor everywhere. You might even remember how crazy it drives me (the zero tolerance to clutter neurotic) sometimes (like here, and here, and here for instance).

Well, there's hope. F, now just one week shy of her 1st birthday, is not walking yet but is crossing the whole house on all fours at lightning speed, pulling herself up, starting to climb up the stairs and to cruise around furniture. She also likes her brother's toy cars. They're all she ever knew for toys -the pink bug hasn't caught her yet (I know it will soon). Yesterday, without anyone teaching her how to, she suddenly took a different interest in a typical LP cars-on-floor modern art display. She zoomed to it, and, very decidedly, one by one, she took them and put them all in the bin that was waiting silently nearby. Then she sat on the floor, let out a sigh while looking at the bare space, and applauded herself.

Cougar

2011-10-21T06:18:00.000-04:00

Once again this year I've been contacted by the Canadian footwear company Cougar, who wanted me to review a pair of their winter boots (last year's post here).

Despite my initial doubts last year, I've been pretty much wowed by the products, so I was really pleased. Receiving another pair of boots for free by mail? Yes, please!

This time, I chose the Mirage wedge model, which is in black leather with a suede overlay. There are also neat little details, like a decorative zipper in the front.

They arrived last week, and I love them. They are really confortable and warm, which, given that I've always valued style way over comfort, I can't seem to get over... Depending on how active you are outside, they will keep your feet warm until from between -10 to -30 degrees Celcius! And yes, these kind of temperatures are possible here in the winter, although much more frequent in my hometown or in Quebec City than here. All my adult life, I've been freezing my toes off as soon as the temps dropped below zero and we got snow on the ground, so this is new, and welcome to me.

But what I like best about them is that they are also pretty stylish... In an ideal world, I would have liked the wedge to be even higher (but you know my thing about high heels), but at least it still gives me some height and the proportion of the boot is good. I really like the suede part, and the fact that they are just wide enough to allow tucking jeans or leggings in, but at the same time skinny enough to keep an overall streamlined look. I can wear them to go walk into the woods (which I did last week and I hope I have time to post the gorgeous fall pictures soon), but also in the city without compromising on style -I'm wearing them today (casual Friday) with jeans. When winter comes, they will be perfect for my daily walk downtown to meet M at the end of the day, but also perfect for more outdoorsy occasions.

And by the way, they didn't ask me to do this or anything but I smiled when I saw this morning that they have just launched the "Pillow Boot" collection again... Cougar has been there for a long time, and at least before, they've always been known for their practical side more than for their fashion forwardness... And these boots were totally ubiquitous here at a certain period, late seventies to eighties...? Everyone here had them, and they sure weren't a style statement! But here they are again, worn by models who totally pull it off. They've become "iconic". Who knew?

Would you wear these?

See you soon?

2011-10-18T16:02:00.001-04:00

I've started my new job yesterday. It's going well; as much as I was ambivalent about coming back, it almost feels like I never left. It seems like sometimes, a step back can also be a step forward? I sure hope so.

I didn't really see this coming, but ever since having F it became increasingly clearer: life has caught up with me. Between the family, work, the commute, some freelancing, ~~an insane number of hours spent prepping the house for an edless array of showings that still haven't led to an offer~~ the house being on the market, and other things like social occasions and trying to carve a little time for myself, I just don't have time for the blog anymore. And it clearly shows... It makes me really, really sad not to be able to do this properly, because I was always able to make the time before, but at the same time the last thing I need right now is another nagging thing on the to-do list that's always in the back of my head.

I promise that this is not goodbye, but this explains why you'll see less of me in the near future. At least until my life gets a little less hectic, or I gain back control of a predictable routine...

As always, thank you for still being here.

Genius!

2011-10-11T06:24:00.072-04:00

I know I've blogged about it before, but it's a bit of an endless conundrum of mine: how can you eat produce that is as local as possible with our crazy climate and short growing season? Of course, people have been growing things like tomatoes in greenhouses here for a while, and it seemed like a sensible solution... Until I learned that greenhouses are so expensive to heat and maintain that the carbon footprint of a single hothouse tomato is actually worse that if it had come from California, and 10 to 20 times higher than if it had been grown in a field.

But we can't escape our endless winter, and we also have to eat other things that root vegetables. It didn't seem like there was a solution but only have access to less fresh (less nutritious) produce from far-away lands, inevitably making our food-related overall carbon footprint much higher than people who were blessed to be born in milder climates.

But I was wrong! Just take a look at this project: Lufa Farms. The vision of a twenty-something Montrealer from Lebanese origin, who skillfully blended his business and technology background with his passion for food and agriculture. The result is the most impressive and well-though of initiative I've seen in a long time: a rooftop greenhouse to grow food.

How is it different?

Since it's on top of a building, the elevation means that you get maximum sun exposure. And since heat goes up, the greenhouse benefits from the building's heating system, and heating costs are very low. In fact, the higher the urban density, the lower the heating costs. Also, the rooftop means that no valuable urban square footage is wasted -the space is already available and under-utilized.

The prototype greenhouse, which was built for $3 million (from private funds) in the North End of the city, can feed up to 2,000 people. They grow no less than 40 varieties of vegetables and herbs, distributed in the form of weekly "baskets" -even in the dead of winter, people can receive local produce that they know has been picked on the same day. They use different microclimates that are specifically suited to different plants, and grow hydroponically, collecting and reusing rain/snow water. No chemicals are used, although their growing methods excludes them from receiving an official organic certification.

The people involved are looking for expansion opportunities, since they say it would probably take a greenhouse twice or three times as big (6,000 people fed) to ensure long-term profitability. We never think of large-scale agriculture in terms of an urban setting, but according to their research, it would only take greenhouses on 10% of the roofs in Montreal to be able to feed the entire population of the city (over 1 million people if you exclude the suburbs). And this, year-round. Positively awesome.

I REALLY hope this concept will take off.

(You can see a video (in French) of the project here -although I'm not sure it's available outside of Canada. Ande here's a NYT article about it from last May).

The last week

2011-10-10T05:53:00.005-04:00

I'm just a week away from starting my new job...

It seems just like yesterday that I quit my previous one, crying. That I was so exhausted, waddling around, my mind just drawing a blank most of the time.

That I wrote this.

That I nonetheless finished a freelancing gig about Holiday presents while not telling my editor that I could possibly give birth pretty soon. I didn't want to scare her, and I guess I was right; I sent my bill three days before F was born. I got lucky on this one.

That I looked like this:

And usually felt even worse that it looks.

But a year has gone by at lighting speed. I go from reminiscing and getting teary to being so excited for the next stage to begin (new job, new house). From feeling so sad that not being at home anymore means spending less time with my kids, to be really looking forward to get out of the house where I now spend my days alone, obsessing about the real estate market situation.

I don't look like the above photo anymore, in fact this time I've already lost all the weight I had gained (probably because I had never expected how the work involved with two kids would be exponentially higher than with one). I still breastfeed but we're in the last weeks now, and doing it less and less. I enjoy the accrued freedom but there's a little bit of mourning too, since I'm never going to do this ever again, I'll soon never have an infant to care of again.

Instead I now have an 11 month-old who spends all of her energy exploring and socializing right now. Who loves to laugh and already displays humor and determination. Who has lots of hair, cute and even a little curly. Who correctly points to several different things when asked: daddy, LP, cat, fish, flower, boat.

Who continues rocking all of our worlds.

Goes by so fast.

United colors

2011-10-06T15:34:00.001-04:00

Since I donated a lot of my clothes earlier this year, I was a little nervous to open back my fall-winter bin (remember I hadn't worn these items in two years), especially now that I'm going back to work soon. It turned out that there were still several OK/good pieces in there, which I only had to complement with a few key things (killer jeans, a black blazer with just a little stylish edge (a cute and quirky lining that peeks through when you turn up the sleeves), a professional-looking skirt, one great pair of wool trousers, maybe one or two daydresses that can double as tunics...)

I ended up buying most of these at Benetton. I'm not sure what brought me back to this store I hadn't been to in years (trips to Italy excepted), but I've been a fan ever since I was about 12 (there even used to be a store in my remote hometown). My budding fashion sense started to take shape in the late 80s, and at the time it one of THE labels to sport if you aspired to be a preppie (along with Polo, Lacoste, and Vuarnet mostly).

I had since abandoned them, mostly because after I started paying for my own clothes, there were a good number of years during which it was inconceivable for me to spend, say $89 on one item. I'm a bit of a bargain hunter when it comes to clothes, and although it's still always fun to be so, I don't think it served me really well over the years. I purged my closet after 1-developing a wariness of bargains and their various "hidden costs" in the last few years, and 2-becoming so fed up of the blahness of my style and the way my cheap clothes start looking much less appealing after just a few washes. So suddenly, spending about $500 on 6 or 7 items that were all GREAT didn't seem so expensive as much as a great value for clothes that can go with everything and last for years. I mean yes, that's still a lot of money but this shopping spree was a one-time, particular situation (having to build my wardrobe again, but trying to do it smarter than how I shopped before).

I'm glad I went back. Their current collection is pretty nice! The clothes didn't immediately speak to me, but after a few minutes of browsing the store, it all seemed to click and I 'got' it. This was everything I was aiming for. Definite style that does not scream for attention but still subtly makes a statement, just a hint of European flair, great colours (this has always been their big strength) and rich fabrics/textures, obvious quality, a flawless fit, and a polished but not stuffy look.

Here are the skirt (thin leather belt as a bonus) and the pants (herringbone and in pale grey as opposed to this dark shade) I got (along with a gorgeous printed silk blouse and a teal cowl neck tunic):

Funnily enough, I also made a friend when the (very gay, no worries M) store manager/stylist and I somehow connected and spent over half an hour talking about fashion, the brand, and even work-life balance (the one his twin sister strives to have with her kids, anyway). He told me that unfortunately, Benetton has lost quite a bit of market share here in recent years, and the company even had to lower its prices. Why? Because of new low-end retailers (he mentioned XXI, H&M) that lure their target customer away with their shockingly inexpensive clothes. Benetton's position here in North America is a little different than it is in Europe, I think, where it's a bit like the GAP, with lots of jeans, t-shirts, sweat pants, etc. The niche they have tried to carve here is me quite specific: "a professional woman who's perhaps not at the cutting edge of fashion but definitely still wants to be fashionable and give off a bit of sophisticated vibe." Which may not be that easy... On one hand the younger girls are probably both priced out and interested in flashier clothes anyway, and on the other hand, the real high-power women who do have serious clothing budgets may probably favor (more expensive) local designers and/or couture.

He thought it was so bad the brand image just keeps lessening over the years, because they do have a really nice product offer... But he was right: not only the store in my hometown is long gone, but there are now only two stores in Quebec. Do you remember how edgy and controversial and out there they used to be with ads? They had gone a little far, but now they've just left the marketing landscape altogether. "What's that about?", I asked my new friend. "Well, it's working so well for them in Europe, and the North American market is so tiny in comparison, that they don't care. They don't let us do anything... I can't even conduct my own local campaigns or even maintain a Facebook page. It's like they keep the stores alive just so it looks good to have all of these worldwide locations."

Isn't so sad, someone who really believes in the potential of what he sells and really wants to make things happen but is being denied the tiniest initiative? It made me reflect on my shopping habits a bit, and try to see "pass the bargain" even more. And even though I probably won't stop buying a few things from H&M, XXI and especially Joe, I really need to remember that quality trumps low prices every time. The guy even told me he went to a conference recently, where he was told that the trend would be for an increasing polarization of clothing retailers, with lots of low-end, lots of very high-end, but very few middle-range shops. And if these all disappear, where will I, and all the women like me, find their clothes?

What do you think? Are you seeing this happening?

The real estate market, month one

2011-10-05T05:54:00.156-04:00

Our house has been on the market for a month now. And it's been... very disconcerting and frustrating.

We've had 11 showings, including one family who came twice, and were visibly quite in love with the place and the neighbourhood, but then didn't follow up with an offer (officially they're still "thinking about it", they haven't bought anywhere else either). We've had people who were quite obviously never going to buy our house (because their budget was much higher, they really wanted an open kitchen, or then didn't want a swimming pool -all of this, along with the price, dimensions, all related information, and about 20 pictures, is may I remind you very transparently displayed in our listing).

We've had people who were clearly a wrong fit, like an elderly couple who spoke no French nor English and left after two minutes without saying anything (it probably didn't help that when you first come in, you immediately have two flights of stairs). Then we've had people who liked the house but were only starting their search, weren't ready to buy, and I guess didn't love our place enough to stop the presses and do whatever it takes to get it immediately (which is what we did ourselves).

Even though I'm getting better at it with each visit, it still takes me about 2 1/2 hours to get the place ready every time (and that's on top of it being already staged and decluttered from top to bottom). So we found ourselves getting up at 6 on a Saturday morning to tidy up and get the kids in the car by 9 while we wait for them to show up -45 minutes late, we found ourselves at the hardware store at 8 PM with two tired kids, including LP who was quite sick and didn't understand why we couldn't go home yet, we found ourselves eating out more often that we're used to when showings coincides with meal times. We found ourselves coming home 10 minutes early to find an agent and the two buyers waiting by the door in the pouring rain (what a first impression), me with bags full of the flowers I had gone out to get. We found ourselves driving around our neighbourhood frantically for 40 minutes, hoping that the people wouldn't see our car repeatedly passing by, wondering why the hell it took them so long (the usual showing lasts about 10 minutes). Clearly, we had not realized selling a house was this involved. On weeks when we have several showings, it completely scr*ws up our routine, but then, on weeks when we don't, we worry. We feel like we're not completely at home anymore, and we're not really good at this.

And I guess it was silly of us to imagine that it would sell almost immediately, based on the fact that it has been the case for every single one of the nearby houses in the past couple of years. But in the past few months, a shift has occurred, from a sellers' market to a buyers' one. So our timing is not quite perfect (of course!), and there are suddenly lots of other houses for sell nearby, more so than ever before (of course!) None have sold in the past month though, so at least this is reassuring.

Our agent is not at all worried, and we still have plenty of time before our official occupation date of April 1st. Our hopes of moving before the winter, though, are rapidly waning.

I find it a little difficult not to take it personally, which might be the biggest problem. Honestly, the house has never looked so great -clean, functional, pleasant to live in, warm, uncluttered, with our style really shining through. I am loving this, and wish we could take inspiration for our next house, although M ~~the clutterbug~~ "misses his stuff" (of course). We have made all kinds of improvements in the last six weeks or so, and realized that we should have done all of this way before (seriously why didn't we???) We have worked so hard on our home over the years (upstairs bathroom reno being one example), and it is a million miles away from the dated, not very appealing, unmaintained, slightly sad property M bought nearly ten years ago. But buyers of course don't see that... And they always tend to focus on the three negative things instead of the 50 positive ones. I don't blame them, everyone is the same... But I still see it as a bit of a rejection every time.

To tell you the truth, this time of our life strangely reminds me of when we were trying (and for a long time, failing) to conceive LP. There's the same feeling of being vulnerable and a little trapped, of really wanting something to happen but having absolutely no control over it, of knowing that the next stage is so much better but we can't be there yet. There are the falses hopes you have almost in spite of yourself, followed by the harsh return to reality, and the need to start over again. There's the time that goes by so quickly, and makes us feel more and more powerless. And more than anything there's my neurotic side flaring up again, waking me up at night.

To be continued...

Here's one wedding that won't soon be featured on Style Me Pretty...

2011-10-04T12:24:00.003-04:00

Adapted from an article (in French) in La Presse this morning.

In a local court yesterday, a 38-year old man, let's call him Mr. Greatpartyfriend, has been cleared of molestation and assault charges which occurred during a 2007 wedding. Why? Because the 45-year old bride (Ms. Classylady) confessed that she assaulted the victim (Ms. Goodtasteinmen) herself.

Mr. Greatpartyfriend attended the wedding of Ms. Classylady, and had been asked by her and the groom to buy and bring various drugs for the occasion. Mr. Greatpartyfriend brought Ms. Goodtasteinmen, which he had been seeing for 3 weeks, as a guest. Once at the reception, Ms. Goodtasteinmen was surprised to realize that Mr. Greatpartyfriend was introducing her as "his cousin." She then found out that Mr. Greatpartyfriend was still involved with a woman he had been with for the last seven years, AND that the bride's sister was in love with him and DID NOT have sex (Clinton/Lewinski-style) with him right there at the wedding. Outraged, Ms. Goodtasteinmen started yelling at Mr. Greatpartyfriend and picked up a verbal fight, which, sadly, kind of killed the buzz of the wedding.

It is then unclear what happened exactly, but Ms. Goodtasteinmen was severely beaten to the point where she lost a tooth, a shoe and her cell phone. She was later picked up outside in a trench by other guests who called 911, and was then taken care of by paramedics.

Ms. Goodtasteinmen stated in her complaint that Mr. Greatpartyfriend assaulted her, and even sexually molested her. Mr. Greatpartyfriend, though, always argued that he saw Ms. Goodtasteinmen in a fight with "another woman".

So Ms. Classylady finally admitted that she beat up the victim after looking for her to confront her about ruining her wedding, and finally finding her outside. When the enraged victim started yelling at her that this was an "douchebag" wedding and that her whole family were "tramps," it did it for the bride. Ms. Classylady then punched Ms. Goodtastedinmen in the face "at least" 4 or 5 times, and then grabbed her from the ground and dragged her on the gravel driveway to the trench. When the judge asked why the bride had not confessed of all of this earlier, she replied that she felt "her criminal record was too heavy already."

No word about who designed the wedding dress.

Two weeks notice in reverse

2011-10-03T14:52:00.001-04:00

I have a job. Which I'm starting on October 17.

A funny set of coincidences meant that a company I previously worked for for 3 years needed a tech writer. I liked that job, it was well located, and the people were nice... There's even the enticing probability of occasional trips to Paris and to NY. Why did I leave it then? Well, it mostly had to do with having started to go out with a certain guy. A co-worker...

Who's now my husband.

Going back feels funny, but in a good way I guess. It's been six years since I left, and I've had two jobs since, not to mention I got married and had two kids. Getting into the building, seeing some familiar faces, setting foot into their premises felt both well-known and odd. Being able to talk about all of this with M and knowing that he understands and relates is also quite funny, I must say (he worked there for seven years). There'll always be a specialness to this company in our lives, because we met so many of our friends there (some have since also left), and of course that's where we first met, that's where we fell in love, despite me trying REALLY hard not to for a VERY long time (but that's another story). This morning when I went to sign the papers I suddenly remembered the moment and the place we were first introduced, and I smiled fondly. We were both with other people then, and we didn't know, but this was it, the love of my life.

I feel so relieved, and ready. F is doing really well at daycare, and exactly like it did for LP, she seems to progress at lightning speed ever since she started, probably from the contact of these other kids. She's starting to have a life away from me now, which both hurts a little and makes me feel good. She goes on walks with the giant stroller, she plays in the plastic ball pool, she sits outside with her little friends, she explores her surroundings on her own more and more. She get rocked and kissed and fed and nurtured by two wonderful teachers she loves seeing in the morning, which makes me feel at peace.

And so I have two more weeks at home now. Two weeks to get prepared for the adjustment of being a two working parents family again, but except with double the load of kids. To get back into this routine I used to master pretty well, and which seems a bit overwhelming now. To get familiar with the drill: planning dinners ahead, making lunches, laying out three outfits for the next day, setting the alarm clock, and I hope, working out while the family is still sleeping.

My new (old) office will be right downtown, and it's something I've really missed in the last few years (outstanding shopping during lunch breaks! All the restaurants you can imagine! Being able to run almost all your errands quickly and conveniently!) I do love our sleepy little suburban town, but I'm really an urban person at heart, and I'm kind of looking forward to dressing the part, feeling this energy, and drawing style inspiration from all of the people you see in the streets. Becoming me again, me outside of being a mommy.

Bring it on. We can do this... Now all we need is for our house to sell.

Scandinavia, you did it again!

2011-09-28T05:48:00.077-04:00

We Quebecers are a peculiar bunch. We obviously have things in common with the French, although probably less than you might think. We also have things in common with the Brits, actually probably more than you might think. We're definitely North American though, and used to these (excessive) standards we take for granted: space, large houses, big cars, relatively cheap energy, plentiful water, very convenient domestic facilities, big-box shops that are basically always open.

The parallel most people don't know about, and which is perhaps the most important, is with Scandinavian countries. But we are very similar, and not just because of our climate... There's the general mentality (not necessarily needing to get married before having kids -or at all- may be the most obvious resemblance), and there's how the government works. We are also a welfare state: the high taxes in exchange for many services (universal healthcare, long, paid parental leaves, good quality subsidized daycares...), the always underlying principle that when the society as a whole is better off and its most vulnerable population is taken care off to an extend, everyone benefits. (I'm not saying that this is perfect -of course it's not).

I've always viewed Scandinavians as the most "evolved" people on Earth, like they have probably figured everything out better than anyone else, for a variety of reasons I can't really put my finger on. And nowadays, even I, who benefits from lots of programs I'm well aware some women regrettably couldn't dream of, am finding myself jealous of the Scandinavians...

There, just like here, women -including mothers- are massively into the workforce... Among the highest percentages in the developed world. But here's what we don't have: most of them work part-time. I mean, careers, like working for the public sector, and not for instance in the retail industry.

I wish I could work part-time, for the next couple of years at least... With a little freelancing on the side, I'm pretty sure we could manage budget-wise, even with the bigger house. But unless I want to deny the seven years I spent in university and the ten I've spent working in the corporate world and accept to become a boutique salesperson or a barista at minimum wage (not that there's anything wrong with that, obviously), there's nothing. Out of all the job applications I've filled in the last month, there was exactly one for which part-time was possible. It was a junior position -I don't think they're calling me anytime soon.

I don't mean to complain: I know I'm lucky because I have had the chance to study, to gain valuable experience, to work in positive environments. I'm also lucky because my husband holds a good job, although I guess this should never be completely taken for granted. I've always worked full-time and I know we can manage: that's the society choice, that's life, that's what everyone else is doing. I will do it and give it my best, give my best at home and won't look back.

But still. Good for you, Norway, Sweden, the Netherlands. You will never cease to impress me.

Che cosa???

2011-09-26T06:34:00.005-04:00

A few weeks ago, more than a year after our return, we received an all-Italian letter from the Firenze Polizia. A fine, actually, for an amount of over 100 euros. We're not really sure why, but we think it has to do with driving in an inner-city zone we weren't supposed to have access to. These no-outside cars zones are everywhere, especially in old towns where streets are very narrow and space is limited. We had tried to pay attention to it, but sometimes, these places are just like mazes. We were surprised that we got fined in in Florence though, because it's one of the places where we actually didn't drive in the city. Our hotel was in a nearby village, and everyday we parked at the Piazzale Michelangelo, then walked across the Arno river and into the town. I was nearly five months pregnant, it was hot, there were lots of steps, and we had a 3 year-old in a stroller, so I remember these quite long walks very well.

There was nothing we could do about the fine: we don't really know much Italian, the country is far away and six hours ahead, and the Polizia charged us through our car rental company, which still had our credit card number. We have other things on our mind right now, so we figured the hell with it.

But read on. The population of Florence is 370,000 people -in its center at least, it is a very dense and small town. Every year, the city receives nearly 2 million visitors. Therefore, it heavily relies on tourism; for the greater part of the year, visitors outnumber the locals. Granted, the majority of these tourists don't actually drive: maybe they're part of a guided tour and travel by bus (I know that's how both my parents have visited Italy in separate occasions), maybe they fly in and out. Maybe they come by train, and maybe they even come by cruise ship (to nearby important port Livorno). So, how many do you think actually drive? Maybe 30%? Math was never my strong topic in school, but that would mean roughly 667,000 people a year, right? And that's not even accounting that logically, most of these people are not alone in their car, so the number of actual drivers is probably less than half of that.

Well, we just learned in the paper this morning that the city of Florence issues no less than 700,000 traffic fines to foreign drivers a year.

That's 1,918 a day, 13,461 a week, 58,333 a month. A whole parallel industry, or tourist
~~scam~~ tax, one might say. A VERY lucrative one.

Now I better understand why this city looks so well-maintained... But you would think that given how much money they make out of basically everyone of us, they'd be able to better control all of these annoying, so crazy obvious pickpockets.

Early risers, 1, night owls, 0?

2011-09-21T12:27:00.004-04:00

Interesting article, to be filed in the "useless research that nonetheless provide fun bits of trivia" category.

According to a poll study conducted in London by Dr. Joerg Huber of Roehampton University, people who wake up/get up earlier tend to be happier, healthier, and even thinner.

Why would that be? "Maybe morning types are just better suited to this industrial world we are in than late risers", the doctor remarked. Mmm. I remember writing something along those lines a little while ago. I guess it makes sense. I'm still a bit surprised. Thinner??? A tentative explanation would be because they don't skip breakfast and then tend to snack less?

What are you? I'm an unrepentant early riser, although since these days I'm more of a "non-sleeper at nighter" (I blame both the children and the career/real estate-related stress), I could definitely sleep in longer in the mornings. Thankfully, and perhaps even more strangely, my kids are not very early risers for little ones, and they rarely rouse before 7.

But I don't actually feel that I'm in the majority or in the type society, or at least people around me, favours... I'm usually pretty much K.O. around 10 PM, and all my life I've been mocked/told off/viewed as an anthropologically strange specimen because of it. Any similar, or then widely different experience?

Er, you saw it here first?

2011-09-19T05:57:00.016-04:00

Seen on display the other day in one of my favorites furniture stores:

And... Our actual dining room (picture is from our real estate listing):

(Story behind those chairs from last year. Mint condition 50s table we bought for $100 in an antique store this spring. You can extend it, but we chose not to while the house is for sale, so our space looks huge).

LA flowers, II

2011-09-15T06:04:00.051-04:00

The second event I did in LA (first one here) was my friend's daughter birthday party. Little G was turning 5, and to celebrate, her mother threw a big bash at The Coop! I knew the stakes were high, because you might remember the out-of-this-world parties she tends to plan... Julie and her big girl had chosen orange, pink and yellow as the main colours, and my main inspiration for the flowers were "refined and whimsical".

I chose fluffy peonies (from Oregon, I don't think the California climate is cool enough for them to grow), delicate pink nerine, yellow zinnias, orange dahlias, pink anemones, and billy balls. I also used leftover eucalyptus pods and leaves from the other event, since their interesting texture and glossy narrow leaves made a pretty, unusual filler.

And here are a few pictures from the event, posted on the Blue Cupcake blog (Credit: Hans Ku):

Julie was really proud, because her event was even picked up on Amy Atlas' Sweet Designs website! Congrats ma belle!

Flowers, better late than never

2011-09-13T05:02:00.166-04:00

fleur bleue now has an LA division! Well, as much as I'd like that to be true, not really. But I did work on two events while we were there in July. And as much as I'd like to be able to tell you that it's because I'm so big and I have all these contacts and sh*t, it's rather because my friend Julie the baker (who IS so big and sh*t) had two events planned during our stay, and asked me/arranged for me to be the designated florist.

We began by going to the Downtown LA Flower Market, which was a fantastic adventure in itself. Of course, I have been to the Flower District in Manhattan on several occasions, and have been rendered speechless by the variety and the abundance and the beauty every time, but in NY I have never been with a purpose. A budget, and a real event to pull off, and a head buzzing with ideas. But in LA, here it was... I was so excited, trying to think clearly, to come up with a vision for my two very different events, letting myself inspired by everything that they had. As simple and cliché as it may sound, wandering a gorgeous flower market with my arms full and knowing that I got to spend the rest of the day tending for my purchases = true, true, deep happiness.

At the same time, it was a bit bittersweet... Because it made me realize once and for all that here in Montreal, I would never be able to make fleur bleue a full-fledge endeavour and business the way I dreamt it could be... We just don't have neither the selection, nor the affordable prices, which are both key for an event florist. Since I don't have my own shop, I will always depend on many more middlemen, meaning that I probably will never be able to achieve a profitableness that could take it from a hobby to a at least a sideline that can help feed my family. The market here is small, there is not much of a culture for fresh flowers, the wedding season is short, I can only do two events a day, and brides are usually not willing to pay big bucks, especially for flower types that are fairly common and widely available.

But there... Everything would be different. Weddings happen throughout the year. The selection was incredible, and it would always be there. No scrambling to obtain what I want, no having to change my plans at the last minute because some flowers are not there, no hiked up prices (an example: I paid close to $40 for a bunch of (admittedly gorgeous, huge) dahlias here last year, even while they were in season... There, they were $8 a bunch). Instead, I would have: a much wider clientele, a budget that is exponentially stretched, endless variety (I was drooling over flowers I had previously only seen in books... And there they were, mine for the taking!!!), and also, endless inspiration. Sigh. LA people, you got it good.

Back to my flowers... The first event was a quincianera, thrown for a very beautiful and stylish girl. I was asked to do three arrangements: one in a shallow, but very large square vase, and two smaller, higher square ones. The colors of the party were white, deep red and black, so I decided to go very modern and dramatic.

I chose cascading white orchids so beautiful they kind of brought little tears to my eyes, black calla lilies, red gerberas, big fluffy white mums, red dahlias (what can I say? I lub them), glossy palm leaves and eucalyptus pods.

I put bébé in her sling (LP was playing in the backyard with my friend's kids), and I started working in the dining room, in some kind of a trance, while Julie and her crew baked off a storm in the kitchen.

Here was the result...

I loved them, although I must say the pictures never really do justice to the real arrangements... There's just so much dimension missing...

Second event to come later this week, hopefully!

September

2011-09-12T06:13:00.158-04:00

Fall is already here... I love it but it always makes me a little sad, too. Among other things last week I shopped for the kids' winter outerwear, which they'll gradually start needing over the next few weeks. But all the while, it was sunny and 25 degrees C outside... Thus is our crazy, extreme climate.

F has now done two weeks in daycare. Her integration is still not complete (it hasn't been perfectly easy breezy, and it still hurts when I leave her and she gets that she stays there and I'm going), but overall she's being a little champ. Her very good and nurturing teachers tell me that she's playing, and smiling, and laughing, and eating, and even drinking a little milk -always my challenge with her... She's now having regular full-fat cow's milk, which is such a relief because seriously, I hate the expensive and stinky formula and apparently she did, too. We're taking it easy with daycare, letting her get used to her new reality slowly...

She's now gone mobile. She's crawling (she started doing it backwards, then got the hang of it and is going forward too, using a surprisingly efficient mix of the two techniques to get around) and starting to pull herself up on the coffee table. Whenever I sit her on the floor, she immediately jumps to her belly, then hops herself on all fours, and leans forward and back, but hasn't started moving this way yet. Now, she doesn't want to be in my arms, doesn't want to stay in place, she wants to go! She's equally frustrated and funny.

All of a sudden, she stopped eating "baby food". She now has what we're having more often than not (usually it has to be chopped up a bit), has become an expert at pincer grasping little bits, and tries really hard to just feed herself with the spoon. She says 4 or 5 words (we're still not sure about the 5th one), claps her hands, does the "fish" sound with her mouth when she sees her goldfish. She points at everything, and then babbles endlessly -about it, I suppose.

LP loves being the official "big boy" at daycare. This year is all about school prep, and along with his teachers we're starting to focus on certain things he needs to master or accomplish in the next year so he's going to be ready. One of these things is autonomy (he's perfectly capable of dressing himself and putting his shoes on, but sometimes he refuses to do it alone), and the other thing is better managing his emotions. It comes and goes in phases, but sometimes he still has very baby-ish, extremely loud and dramatic tantrums and meltdowns, and they often startle and even scare people. I don't want him to think that it's not OK to be who he is (his personality is very deep-rooted at this point, and I want him to realize that I understand how it is to feel things a little stronger than most people), but he's very big now (he looks more like a 6 year-old than a 4 year-old), and the meltdowns have to go. We are trying to find ways for him to channel this differently... We're very hopeful that it will work.

The house has been on the market for 10 days... I can't really talk to you about it at this point, other than to say that it's a very intensive, involved, and stressful process. I don't think I've ever been this busy in my whole life. For the past month and a half, I keep hearing "you are really back to your pre-pregnancy figure now!" And to tell you the truth, I hadn't really noticed! It's not because I'm so virtuous with diet and exercising, it's more that I barely have time to eat, and that mealtimes are always more about getting the two kids to eat than doing so myself. (Please don't start worrying about me OK? I'm eating. This is actually good for me, not overeating and constantly obsessing about food).

I still have to find a job... For about a few weeks over the summer, it looked like my dream of a perfect work-life balance (working part-time, complementing with freelancing) could have actually happened... It looked like it was so close, just within reach. And then for various reasons all the doors closed on me one by one. Being in a bit of an awkward place (for instance trying to find jobs in French while all I have as far as online experience is this blog in English), not really knowing how to sell myself, having bad timing... Story of my career.

I still have a month of mat leave benefits left. I am currently trying to veer off the technical writing path slightly and applying for jobs in online communications/web communities and such... But I haven't had that much luck so far, and we now need my income more than ever with the new house. So I guess that if that doesn't work soon, back to technical writing it is... Am I seeing this as a bit of a personal failure? A little, not at all in the sense that it's a terrible career, au contraire, but in the sense that I was longing for a change of life and doing what I truly love. Then, most people don't really earn a living with what they're passionate about... Maybe I was too eager and I still need time for this to happen eventually. We'll see.

Where were you?

2011-09-09T05:54:00.062-04:00

I was living in Germany at the time. I was six hours ahead so it was a quarter to 3 PM for me... That very morning I had spoken on a French CBC radio night show, like I sometimes did during that year, talking about my life as an expat, and being a foreigner in this peculiar country.

I was sitting at my desk in my small apartment, working on my master's thesis, streaming the aforementioned radio like I did when I felt homesick. And this is when I learned. For the first fifteen minutes, things only felt unsettled and confused, and weird. I dropped the radio and tuned in to CNN, which in Europe is broadcasting from London. It's only when the second plane hit that I think I realized, and recoiled in deep shock and horror. Before that it could still have been some kind of a terrible, freak accident. But now it was clear that it wasn't.

So I just sat there and watched, for hours and hours and into the night and into the days that followed. I sat and I watched and I cried. And I had never felt that far away from home and from the people I loved (my dad was in Italy and he called me that night). I knew, we all knew that our life would never be the same.

I kind of consider NYC to be my second home now, but back then I had never been. So I don't have a point of comparison, of Manhattan before and after. In the fall of 2005 M and I visited Ground Zero. The pain all came back, still so surprisingly raw. It hadn't changed that much in four years... Since then it has started to, it doesn't look like a wreckage site so much anymore, and is slowly morphing into the memorial space it will end up being for future generations. We were also there in September 11, 2006 (the 5-year anniversary) and I remember getting out of a restaurant in Soho and seeing this group of people all looking in the same direction. Night had fallen and there in the void, towards the South, were two huge vertical blue lights where the towers once stood. I was pregnant with LP. I remember wondering how we could ever explain that to our child one day. I still don't know.

I'm still having a hard time processing all of this.

Ten years.

Where were you?

Hello fashion lovers!

2011-09-07T15:30:00.050-04:00

If you're Canadian, you've probably seen these ads for a while now... If not, you might have a chuckle. Or think I'm really dumb to post this. I don't know.

I think these are just a little short of genius, by the way. They really don't break any artsy conventions or shake your vision of the world, and they sell clothes from an ubiquitous Montreal-based retailer, but they still have a lot going for them. They're silly and absurd, but at the same time not that far off from reality, in both the couture creations and the fashion "critics". They're quirky and a little weird, but at the same time warmly so. They are almost the same in English and French and totally work in both official languages, which very rarely happens and is no small feat in this country of the "two solitudes". And also, who doesn't like to have a laugh at the expense of the pretentious and the supposedly beautiful? Real life wins. So everyone wins.

(Lunch break, barbecue, walk in the park, city bus, airplane, date night)

(The bank)

Orange

2011-09-01T06:07:00.000-04:00

In February, when we went to New York to celebrate the life of our little friend Prince Liam the Brave, we were all asked to wear orange, which was Liam's favorite color. I still remember the church flooded in that color very vividly. While we -hundreds of people united in their love and grief for a wonderful little boy- all walked to the reception site on 26th St., someone even stopped M and asked, curious and amazed: "What's with all the orange?" After that, it has become the non-official color of Cookies for Kids Cancer.

Since then, I was bemused to see another orange wave take place here in Canada, when during the spring federal election campaign, the NDP adopted it and took the country by storm, going from a minor party to becoming the official opposition with 103 seats, including a whopping 59 here in Quebec. Most of this was due to its leader, the charismatic, extremely likeable, real, inspiring Jack Layton. Even though I don't deny being a moderate leftist, I don't usually discuss my own political affiliations here... But I was part of the orange wave. I voted NDP.

Jack Layton, who was the same age as my father, passed away last week after a fulgurant disease.

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.

(Layton's letter to Canadians, August 20, 2011).

Orange. Hope. And cancer. Forever in my mind intertwined.

Mad pretty

2011-08-31T05:46:00.002-04:00

M and I received the first and second seasons of Mad Men on DVD last Christmas. We were excited to watch it but then never got around it. So even though I'm sure we are going to LOVE it, we have yet to caught the Mad Men bug.

This new collection offered at Banana Republic right now, designed in collaboration with the show's costume designer Janie Bryant, is making me drool. I'm really tempted to get one of these dresses. I have about no fall clothes, after a huge purge of my wardrobe last spring, when I decided to change the way I dress slightly. New rules: have less clothes, but have only pieces I love and that flatter me. Stop wearing things I only feel ho-hum about (generic sweaters and pants that do nothing for my pear shape), buy things that makes me feel good each time I wear them instead (dresses, feminine skirts, crisp little shirts). Buy pieces with character, think in terms of outfits. Invest in a few pieces I will wear for years.

Today...

2011-08-29T05:47:00.000-04:00

...is the beginning of LP's last year at daycare. He's now in the "big kids" room, the one upstairs with the computers and the newest toys and the corner view. This year, there'll be trips to the library, and at some point, visits to the elementary school.

...is also the day F is starting to go there. She'll be downstairs in the nursery, with her own little high chair, her own little crib in the nap room. Her blankie and her bottles and her fluffy pink rabbit to help her go to sleep.

...is the day I know everything is going to be fine. I know it deep in my heart and soul.

But today, I mourn.

Car la vie est si fragile...

2011-08-26T06:23:00.097-04:00

Last weekend M joined us in my hometown with the motorcycle.

The last stretch of road, 200 km between Quebec City and the Saguenay, is in a very beautiful, rugged, remote, and also dangerous wildlife refuge. There is only one stopping point at halfway (L'Étape), with fuel, food, rest rooms, and emergency services. Anywhere else, it's just you, the bears, and the moose.

My husband said the road was perfect on this slightly chilly, sunny Saturday morning -no traffic, dry conditions, not a cloud in the sky. A little before arriving at L'Étape, M rode behind another motorcycle, the only other one he saw -a big Harley, with a man on the wheel and a woman behind. They continued for several minutes like this, then right before the exit, M decided to pass them. They all nodded and waved, like bikers do. The woman, who seemed totally relaxed, flicked a little smile to M.

We have never really stopped at L'Étape; usually we simply like to get out of that road as quickly as possible. M had plenty of fuel, it was about 9:30 AM so he wasn't hungry, and I missed him so I had urged him to arrive as early as possible. He didn't need to stop. But while passing the Harley, he began thinking, should I stop? He wasn't sure why. He hesitated. It's going well, let's go on, he told himself. Then, at the very last second, he changed his mind and pulled over in the ramp, towards the parking lot.

Just a few seconds later, before he had even stopped his bike, he heard a loud crash, and saw all the people there dropping what they were doing and rushing to the road.

A big SUV coming from the other direction had hit the Harley. The car was making a left turn to stop at L'Étape, and the driver had never seen the motorcycle.

"I don't think the woman is going to make it," a passerby told M after coming back from the crash scene. A minute later, when the ambulance arrived, they simply placed a yellow tarp on her, and only focused on saving the man (who was critically injured, but survived). Her death was later confirmed. She was 52.

The husband who finally arrived to me a little over an hour later was very shaken. Because he was literally the last person who saw her alive. Because it was the first time he saw someone alive one minute, not alive anymore the next. Because I don't know how many times we have ridden like this, the two of us, with me in the back. Because it was a reminder that even if you're the best and most careful motorcycle rider, other drivers are the real danger you have no control over, and no protection against.

Because if he hadn't stopped, it really could have been him.

Sometimes (rarely but still), life makes it hard on us atheists/skeptics/rationals not to believe in guardian angels.

The moment it all clicked

2011-08-25T06:36:00.010-04:00

One day at my dad's last week, we were all sitting around the table, including baby F in her high chair. Their dining room is edged by a large mirror, in order to make it appear larger. At one point during the conversation, I realized that my daughter was saying "ma-man-ma-man-ma-man..."

So I turned to her, smiling. Then I realized that she wasn't just saying the syllabes...

She was pointing to my reflection in the mirror and saying the word.

A new home

2011-08-24T06:01:00.140-04:00

So even though we weren't actively looking for a new house with an agent, M and I have been paying attention to what was happening on the market since last year. We would check houses for sale once in a while, and drive around places we liked. Houses in our neighbourhood were usually flying fast, and for an always increasing value. It seemed like a good time to sell, especially now that the family is done, we are becoming quite cramped in our house, and nothing was really holding us back anymore.

Recently you can imagine what happened: we both had a huge crush on a house. Since we've been sort of looking in the last year, this had never happened -M would love one but I would find it so-so and hate the neighbourhood, or vice-versa. But this house really had everything we had wanted, everything we needed to raise our family there and truly settle down. So we visited, and made an offer. And had to fight another bidder, so we ended up getting the house but waving the condition to sell ours before the transaction happens. So in order to protect ourselves from disaster as much as we could, we gave the seller a moving date of April 1st, which gives us ample (hopefully!) time to sell our own house.

The house is in the same town as we already live in (which we've always loved), thus providing plenty of benefits (great services, low taxes, and last but not least -we can keep our $7-a-day daycare spots). It is GREAT: two-storey detached cottage from 1987 (our house is a 3-bed 60s bungalow), four bedrooms, three baths, my dream kitchen, a double-faced fireplace, plenty of space for everything. It is move-in ready; there are several small (cosmetic bathroom updates) and bigger (stairs' dated railing) things we want to do, but nothing major, nothing very expensive, and we can take care of everything ourselves when we decide to, in time.

But what won us over is that the house is located on a (very beautiful, tranquil) golf course, so there are no neighbours in the back, and the view is extremely therapeutic. There's an expansive deck outside, and even though the yard and garden are not big, there's still enough space for the kids to play (which we don't really have here), and no pool (hurray!) I went back to the checklist I posted last year about what we liked/didn't like here and what we were wishing for, and well, the new house has everything. Except for a shed (but there's a garage and a huge storage room downstairs), and except for an interesting garden (it is very basic -no peonies, no lilacs, no place for a big vegetable patch, etc.) But truly, this is the house we will live in forever.

So this is where we're at right now: waiting to be cleared for financing -because the house is sold without a condition, we need to be approved for the two mortgages simultaneously, even though it's just on paper. This is obviously a bit of an issue, since that represents a very high debt ratio, which we obviously don't intend to put ourselves into, but the banks have to consider as a worst-case scenario. Then, we need to act very quickly to put on our own house on the market as soon as possible, hopefully next week. This requires quite a lot of steps (getting a big cleaning endeavour done, paint retouches and other minor fixes, finding temporary storage/packing what's going into storage/renting a truck and moving stuff, staging the house, redoing part of the roof, having the driveway resurfaced, work on the front yard to increase curb appeal -all within a few days). F is also starting daycare next week, and well, I have to find a job...

So this is stressful but in a good way I guess, and we're trying to take care of things one at a time, trying to remember that we'll get our wonderful prize in the end. We really, really, really hope our house sells quickly so our mind can be a little more at ease, and we're doing our best to make it highly sellable. The seller of the new house moves out on November 1st, so if we ever sold fast, we could even move in the fall.

I'm here!

2011-08-23T10:53:00.000-04:00

Do you remember last year when I posted that even though we didn't plan to move right then, we had realized once and for all that our house wouldn't be the one we would stay forever in?

Well, we're buying a house. And it's all going really fast and there are a million things to do and it's really exciting and a little stressful too. I obviously won't tell you where it is or anything, but just as a little teaser, here is the view from the back yard (taken in the spring by the realtor; the view is better now).

I'll be back soon!

Transition meals

2011-08-19T06:15:00.117-04:00

Even though F is not quite ready to always eat the same thing that we are having, she's really had it with baby food, and increasingly pushes it away. So I'm trying to come up with meals that we can all share, either as is or with minimal handling (such as a quick mashing with a fork). I've been aiming for healthy, tasty, varied, and reheating- or freezing-friendly (for lunches). It's not always easy, but I'm especially proud of myself when I find something that really works, and that we all love. Here is one such recipe.

"Orange" lentil shepherd's pie

Proof that our ancestry is perhaps just as much British as it is French, a version of this comfort food classic is widely, widely popular here in Quebec. For some obscure reason (which may or may not be related to Chinese workers who helped built the railroads here), it is not called "Pâté du berger", but rather "Pâté chinois" (Chinese pie). Traditional pâté chinois is essentially made of cooked crumbled beef, covered with corn (usually canned, with an ongoing debate between which kind is more proper: whole kernel or creamed), then covered with mash potatoes. We have not made this version for years though -we find it bland, we don't eat much beef anymore, and even though it's cheap and filling, it also doesn't have much nutritional value. But we're been experimenting with it: using ground turkey with Mexican spices and chipotle peppers, frozen corn or other vegetables mixed with salsa, etc. Then we started topping it with sweet potato, and never went back. This is my newest meatless attempt - a hit with the whole family, including F who could eat this straight from the pan.

Olive oil
1 cup uncooked red lentils (they cook the quickest, but you could also use canned)
1 large can of tomatoes with juice (I always buy them whole (San Marzano) and cut them up with shears in the pan. They're cheaper and better -the lesser quality ones are used for the diced ones)
1 onion, diced
A little spice to your liking (I usually use cumin and paprika, but all kinds of spices would work)
4 average size sweet potatoes
1-2 potatoes (all sweet potato would also work, but I find the potatoes make the mash pleasantly thicker).
1 small bag frozen vegetables (we use a mix of peas, corn, carrots, and green beans, but all kinds would work)
1/4 cup butter
Salt, pepper

Peel and cut the potatoes into chunks. Place them in a saucepan, cover with water, and boil until tender.
Preheat oven at 400 F.
Over medium heat, saute the onions in oil until translucent. Add the tomatoes, lentils, salt and pepper, and spices. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and let simmer until the lentils are cooked and most of the liquid has been absorbed.
When the potatoes are done, drain the liquid and mash with the butter, salt and pepper.
Place the lentil mixture into an ovenproof dish, cover with the frozen veggies, then top with the mash.
Bake in the oven for about 40 minutes -until bubbly and heated through. Alternatively, put in the fridge to bake later, even the next day, or freeze. If baking from frozen, simply adjust cooking time accordingly.

Bon appétit!

Little bits

2011-08-18T06:06:00.006-04:00

M, completely besotted with his daughter: "You're the most beautiful girl in the world... And your mother is a close second... But don't tell her I said that."

Me, asking LP questions to see if he had been paying attention to one of his favorite TV shows. "So, Olivia has a little brother, right? And what is his name?" LP, without skipping a beat, as serious as can be: "Pot de colle" (Glue stick).

LP, asking me where was my house back when I was living with my parents. I answer, adding that it was "a long time ago". He lights up, very excited. "You mean, in the Middle Ages?" Me: "Yes. Yes, exactly."

Baseball caps

2011-08-17T05:56:00.006-04:00

They really suit one child more than the other, I must say, even with the silly faces...

Hungry Family

2011-08-15T05:56:00.246-04:00

I've been wanting to do this post for a looong time... Since the summer of 2008, actually. But the logistics were complicated and it never seemed like the timing was right. I always kept it on the back of my mind, though, and recently while driving back from the supermarket I decided to just DO IT, even if the circumstances were less than perfect, even if the whole family wasn't in the picture, even if the picture wasn't that great.

What brought me to this idea is a book titled Hungry Planet (from Peter Menzel and Faith D'Aluisio, available here) which I got at that time and read with fascination. I still leaf through it often, and LP loves it too. It's a series of portraits of families from around the world, pictured along with a usual weekly supply of food. There's so much you can tell from these people just by looking at their groceries, you have no idea. Everything is in there, from the most unfortunate people in the world (refugees from Chad living in a camp, for whom a few limes are a prized treasure), to more traditional cultures (Ecuador, Bhutan), to people facing social transitions with more (Turkey, Egypt, India) or less (Mexico, Greenland, Philippines) success, from people who eat relatively well with limited means (Mongolia, Bosnia, Cuba) to people who plainly overconsume/eat (the US, England, Kuwait. We would definitely be there too, if the authors had thought we were significant enough to pay us a visit).

For each family, a detailed list of their food is provided, as well as background information on how they live, their feeding rituals, how the shoot happened, etc. A few examples:

The Mendozas in Guatemala, $75 per week

The Nantomos in Mali (a polygamist family), $27 per week

The LeMoines in France, $420 per week

The Sobczynscys in Poland, $151 per week

The Revis in the USA, $342 per week

(All pictures from Peter Menzel)
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The x-Laforte in Quebec, $234 on that particular week

One typical week of groceries in August. Family consists of M (38), M-E (36), LP (4) and F (9 months). * means organic

Grain and other Starchy Foods: Whole wheat baguette, bagels with sesame seeds, whole wheat pitas, baby cereal (whole wheat with fruit)*, baby cereal (mixed grains with apples)*, toasted oat squares breakfast cereal, cheddar and asiago crackers.

Dairy: 2L carton 1% fat milk*, family tub of vanilla yogurt*, large containers of both heavy and light cream* (I was going to make ice cream), 1/2 pound salted butter*, cottage cheese*, cream cheese*, firm cheeses: Ementhal, St-Morgon (a Camembert-type), mozzarella*, medium cheddar*.

Meat, Fish and Eggs: 1 pound ground chicken*, 1 pound ground pork*, 1 1/2 pound ground turkey*, 1 dozen free-run eggs*, medium-firm tofu*, 2 fillets of fresh halibut (not pictured).

Fruits, Vegetables and Nuts: Blueberries*, 1 pouch of pureed mixed fruit for babies*, red plums*, peaches*, papaya*, avocados, cantaloupe, strawberries*, red grapes*, Bosc pears*, one red and one purple bell peppers*, bananas*, tomatoes* (at this time of year I have my own cherry tomatoes but I needed the big ones for a specific recipe), cucumber*, arugula*, mangetout peas*, green beans*, zucchinis (yellow and green)*, Gala apples*, radishes*, 15 ears of corn (they were $2. I kept a few to eat fresh and as for the rest, I sliced the kernels off the cob and froze them in plastic bags for later use).

Condiments: Dill pickles with garlic, 1 bunch flat-leaf parsley*, 1 bunch fresh dill*.

Snacks and Desserts: Blue corn tortillas*, sweet potato and corn tortillas, all-natural fruit pops (usually I make my own but they were on sale and I was intrigued by the pineapple flavor), arrowroot baby cookies*, all-natural fruit strips*.

Beverages: All-natural, no-sugar-added apple and pear nectar, 2 bottles of Italian-style frizzante: Sicilian lemon and pink lemonade (not pictured).

Frozen food: 2 bags of cut-up sweet potatoes*, bag of chick peas*, bag of broccoli florets*, bag of brown rice with black beans* (none of these are usual purchases, but they were 75% off, too good to pass up).

Other: 3 boxes of tissues, sunflowers.

Notes:

I would say that this $ amount is pretty typical, although I always aim (and sometimes succeed) to spend less. Around $175 per week would be ideal, but difficult to consistently attain for a family of four, given that healthy/organic food is a big priority for me, and given that the price of groceries has increased 40% in the last year alone. To offset that, I stock up on sales, try to buy in season, and make my own food as much as possible (chicken stock, pizza dough, soups, salad dressings, sauces, bread and flatbread, muffins, jams, occasional cakes, pies and cookies, etc.)

The amount of produce is also typical; sometimes, I buy even more than that (I still had broccoli, cauliflower, parsnip, carrots, green onion, celery and cabbage left from the previous grocery run). On that week, I didn't really have to restock on grains (pasta, couscous, rice, quinoa), staples (oils, garlic/onion, spices) or baking supplies (flours, sugar, yeast), so they're absent. The meat I bought was to make baby food; there's no more, because we're trying to make a conscious effort to eat less of it (not center all of our meals around it, anyway), and because I still had some left in the freezer.

A typical grocery run would also often include a bottle of wine and/or a 6-pack of beer, but we had already gotten these a few days prior when we hosted friends for dinner.

M usually brings in lunches to work, as I do (when I work). We don't go out to restaurants or have takeout more than once or twice a month, so bear in mind that this covers pretty much all of our meals for the week.

The day before, I went to the drugstore and bought a can of powdered formula, a pack of disposable diapers and a jumbo pack of baby wipes, so in all honesty, had I gotten these at the supermarket instead, it would have hiked up the bill by about $70.

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What do you think?

I really don't expect to receive any kind of response to this, but I suppose I should still put it out there that I'd LOVE to see other people doing this on their blog, if they were so inclined! Let me know if you're up for it, anyway.

Let's make the most of summer!

2011-08-12T10:45:00.000-04:00

Next week I'm taking the kids to my hometown (500 km north of here). We'll spend some time with my father and stepmom, maybe go visit our friends who are vacationing by the Lac St-Jean nearby (this place is beautiful in the summer -I'm thinking of even taking them to this "ghost town", where my recently deceased grandpa was born, and where I haven't been since grade school). After a long motorcycle ride, M will join us on Saturday, when we have a big celebratory dinner planned for my grandmother's 80th birthday. I hope I can also see her as much as possible during our stay there, because now she's the only grandparent I have left and I'm painfully aware that she won't be here forever...

I was longing to go back there, and hope we have good weather (unlike us, they are having a so-so summer)... It will be our last little getaway before life catches up on us, both kids are in daycare, I have to focus on my future career plans, fall happens, etc. Wish me luck on doing this with both kids solo!

(I have a few scheduled posts planned).

What is it about San Francisco?

2011-08-11T12:03:00.005-04:00

This was my third visit to San Francisco: the first one was 11 years ago, the second one, with M, six years ago. I always thought that this city was really great and unique, but also that I hadn't completely gotten the real feel of it, the one that's outside of the tourist paths. I was really excited to go back, especially with LP who had been talking about it for weeks: cable cars! The funny crooked street (Lombard)! All of these crazy hills!

Our visit in Northern California started with a wonderful stop in Half Moon Bay, a small town about half an hour south of the city. We were meeting Lisa for lunch, and I was so nervous and excited; she's such an amazing, smart, classy lady. We met right by the bay at a restaurant where ALL of the seafood was local and amazingly fresh (might seem normal for some people; for us it's a real luxury!) and shared a truly wonderful meal and conversation. Lisa was so warm and nice and natural with the kids! (Not that I ever doubted she were, but I'm always so surprised and comforted by how meeting good "blog friends" ends up being exactly like meeting dear, "real" friends, because you know what, that's exactly what they are). We then walked around the piers and watched fishermen bring back big wild salmons to shore. That afternoon will always remain really special to me.

(Sorry again about the iphone pictures, by the way...)

We then left Lisa to check in at our hotel, but we were meeting her again for dinner at a Mexican restaurant in the city that very night, along with Meg and her husband David. And I can't tell you how fantastic that evening was. Honestly, one of the few I've had ever since becoming a parent that had me wishing I had left the kids at home so we could stay longer, and longer, and continue drinking margaritas and having such a great conversation and time.

(Meg insisted all the girls should be in the picture. By the way, she's also SUCH A NATURAL with kids. I sort of can't wait till she has a few.)

What did we talk about? Law school and the legal market (David is a newly minted attorney, and M also went to law school, although he never passed the bar). Balancing (writing) careers and life, including family life. The "strange" (David) or rather "awesome" (Meg) law we have here that prevents married women from taking their husband's name (David didn't think that wives keeping their name was weird, by the way, just that legislating something like that was going a little far). Our "such great" (according to them) social measures and relaxed attitudes towards things that are still sometimes marginalized in the US: unmarried (but committed) parents or partners, gay couples, nonreligious people... Traveling (including with kids, which is so natural for us that we don't even realize a lot of people just conclude that "it can't be done"), and of course our dear blog friends, especially the ones who live in the UK where David and Meg will soon stop on their way to Greece.

We also talked about the weather, because, well, we were in full-on thermal shock. Starting in Half Moon Bay, but especially in San Francisco proper, we had hit what is called the "marine layer," in which the warmth from the inner state hits the fresh sea air right above the hills of the city, resulting in lots of rain, and COLD. And it was COLD. Not just breezy or chilly. Rather rainy, windy and about 8-10 degrees Celsius. We were completely unprepared for that, coming from LA first, and because even though we are actually used to much colder temperatures here, these NEVER happen in the summer. Our summers are very warm and usually sunny, and if anyone robbed us of that, there would definitely be a major exodus to more comfortable places, because you CAN'T ROB PEOPLE OF THE SUMMER. It simply can't be done. Rob them of laughter, hope, and their will to live, while you're at it, because it's pretty much the same thing. Nice weather in summer is essential to one's well-being. But unfortunately the San Francisco marine layer hasn't gotten the memo. It's a very peculiar natural phenomenon, because as soon as you get out of the city, the sun and pleasant warmth you expect from California shows up again, and you can breathe a sigh of relief. On the other hand, though, it is pretty constant all year long, and the winter tends to be nicer, so I guess I could definitely live with that. And, just maybe escape somewhere else during the summer.

"Well, this is the worst time of the year," David said, resigned. They both come from LA, but he doesn't like brutal heat, so ho doesn't mind as much as Meg, who has a hard time with all of this summer bleakness. I have only been in SF in the summer, by the way, and I remembered it was chilly, but never that bad. Consequently, I hadn't packed appropriately at all (I just figured we would need a light sweater, but in fact we needed sweaters + jackets + jeans + socks + umbrellas + a wool hat and a blanket for the baby). LP, F and I were FREEZING, so we had to rush and buy some fall clothes. Women in the streets were wearing parkas, boots, and scarves. In July! It was the only time in my life I actually saw someone wearing both flip-flops and a thick wool winter coat.

Except for that, I was still very much in love with the city... It is completely different from any other in the US, I think, both because of its geographical location (sea+ hills) and because of its vibe, which was all at once very posh (I couldn't get enough of those lovely traditional houses/architectural gems!), very hip, very smart, very relaxed, very family- and nature-oriented, very imprinted with American counterculture, very imprinted with all kinds of other cultures, too. A wonderful mix, only made more interesting by the terrain and the harmonious urban planning. One can only wonder why people decided to build a city there, because in some places, they REALLY didn't have it easy!!!

(If you're going to San Francisco, Be sure to... Yeah.)

Despite it being my third visit, I still didn't get a glimpse of the famous Golden Gate Bridge. Every day I was ever there, the Bay had been wrapped in a very thick fog, and this time was no different, which prompted me to think that maybe, it was only an urban legend? But while we left the city to go to Napa, we drove through it, and I guess I could only admit that I was wrong. But barely. Because that still could be just a ghost-like shadow or something.

All in all, summer weather aside, living in San Francisco must be fantastic, inspiring, and very enriching in the everyday life. If only it wasn't that expensive. Sigh.

Just a few more weeks?

2011-08-10T06:52:00.097-04:00

I can't believe we're here already... On August 29, our routine will be forever changed, when my daughter officially starts daycare. Her integration will be very gradual, spanning over the whole month of September. On the first day, I won't even leave her there alone; but I'll rather spend an hour or so there with her, while trying to take a backseat but still being in the room for reassurance.

LP's integration was difficult, and of course this upcoming big change makes me sad and nervous. Things are different though; F has already been there several times a week for drop-offs and picks-ups since she was a tiny infant. She LOVES it there. She lights up when she realizes that this is where we're going, as she knows she'll get plenty of attention from both the teachers and the kids. Her temperament is a little smoother, too, she's very sociable and curious, and she thrives when there are a lot of people and noise and things going on. Plus, she'll have her idol (a.k.a. brother) around... We'll have to see how it goes. Maybe this transition will be harder on mama than on her.

I know how lucky I am to have all this precious time off on mat leave, I'm very aware and grateful for that. But just like every mother, I still think that it's nonetheless going by way too fast. With another kid to take care of and all kinds of other projects, it's been especially true for these last nine months. I do think I have made the most of it, but I still find myself in a bubble I wouldn't mind staying in for the next little while.

F is doing well. She's waving "bye-bye" all the time, even on demand -which delights her grandmother during our Skype calls, and she says it, too ("ba-ba"). She says "maman" non-stop, another milestone that makes it all worthwhile. She's really bored with pureed food and wants to eat what we're having, which is a little problematic given that she only had two teeth! So I usually give her something she can eat on her own (a piece of bread or a cracker, small cubes of soft fruit or veg) and feed her the still mushy (but not pureed) food while she's a little distracted. She doesn't crawl yet (LP only started at about that age), but pulls herself up almost on her own -I expect her to succeed doing it in her crib in the next few days).

I still breastfeed her four times a day (no, she's not sleeping through the night yet), and she has three small cups of formula. Exactly like LP, she rejected the bottle, is not interested in milk much and probably doesn't drink enough (I estimate that she probably gets 10-12 ounces of breastmilk with 4-6 ounces of formula a day, while our friends' baby who is the same age drinks 28 ounces). She does, however, compensate with food. She's not big (about 16 pounds), but she still has chubby little thighs and is in the 90th percentile for height (also just the same as LP, who at 4 is the same height as an average 6 year-old and wears size 12 1/2 shoes like most 7 year-olds).

Her naps are usually longer than her brother's, but there is still not much of a pattern to them -40 minutes one day, two and half hours the next. She interacts a lot more with LP, and this is truly the best part of all: sometimes, they start laughing together like mad silly little partners in crime, and I try to take it all in, telling myself that it's only the beginning of this soul soothing adventure.

Where children sleep

2011-08-09T10:50:00.001-04:00

What a beautiful, fascinating, humbling, telling-a-story-without-words photo series. From a book by James Mollison you can find here.

(Four year-old, Tokyo, Japan)

(15 year-old, Kyoto, Japan)

(Nine year-old, Yunnan, China)

(10 year-old, Beijing, China)

(Nine year-old, West Bank)

(Six year-old, West Bank)

(Eight year-old, Kentucky, USA)

(Nine year-old, New Jersey, USA)

(11 year-old, Kentucky, USA)

(Nine year-old, New York, USA)

(Nine year-old, Rio, Brazil)

(11 year-old, Rio, Brazil)

All pictures from James Mollison, taken here. Other slideshows here and here. All of the stories are great and worth looking into. You can also see the faces of the children, which I chose not to add in this post, because I think you'll find that after seeing them it slightly changes your perception of the spaces already.

(Incidentally, you can also see where my children sleep here).

Pow! Bam! Ker-plop! Zwap!

2011-08-08T11:07:00.018-04:00

Well, another thing to remember from the very eventful year 2011.

Last Wednesday night, around 10:30, M and I were quietly reading in bed, when suddenly something just swooshed into our bedroom. Something black, and big, and... flying. But it wasn't a bird. Its wingspan was about 15 cm (6 inches), there was more of a gliding motion to it, and it started flying in circles above us.

A bat.

After a few seconds of sheer shock (and some screaming from the both of us), I jumped out, got out of the room while closing the door, and went to close the door to both kids' rooms. Then M slowly tried to do the same, while the bat circled in around him. Finally, he got out, and we surrendered the bedroom to our invader, while making sure to shut the door.

We had another WTF?????!!!!!!! moment, and then we decided on a course of action. We would try to drop a towel on it, put the towel into a shoebox and take it outside. We were completely panicked, our hearts racing, finding it hard to think clearly. We went downstairs to get what we needed, and came back into our bedroom, less than 2 minutes later.

We expected the bat to still be flying in circles, but it wasn't. In fact, we could not see it. It was somewhere in our room, trying very hard to be invisible. M started looking around -in the drapes, in or under our bed, etc. At every moment he expected it to jump out and bite him in the face or something, but no chance. I let him continue to look and went to the computer to see what we were supposed to do in this case.

And our instinct had been right -bats are rendered pretty much motionless when you drop a towel on them, and they can't untangle themselves or fly away. It was also strongly advised to put on gloves, because they do bite -however, only when attacked and scared. So I grabbed two pairs of thick gardening gloves and went to give one to my husband, who had started tearing the room apart but could still not find the little night visitor. I mustered up the courage to tell him that the one thing we did not do right would probably end up being the most costly: you should always keep an eye on it and know where the bat is, because they can hide virtually anywhere, and get in holes about as big as a quarter. And when they go into hiding, they can stay there for HOURS.

Around midnight, we had become really discouraged (not to mention exhausted -M had an important presentation at 9 the next morning). We didn't know what to do; it didn't seem to be anywhere. Open up the window, close the door behind us, go sleep on the couch and hope it would have gotten out by the next morning? No. There would be no way of knowing it really got out, and who knows what else could come in (bats usually live in colonies, there are tons of disgusting bugs at this time of year). So I called the police -not the emergency line, just the regular police station number, in case they would know. They didn't. They said they could page the animal control center, which was normally closed during the night, and see if they would call us back. Fifteen minutes later, a woman clearly infuriated from having been woken up called, and plainly told me that if we didn't even know where the f bat was, then how could we expect them to help us? There was nothing they could do. Good luck finding it, she told me with a snide. It could be anywhere, including hanging somewhere in your clothes, and it could take days.

We were on our own. We were so tired we almost gave up and decided to wait until the next morning, but the thought of the bat lurking somewhere in our bedroom was unbearable. So we had no choice: we would have to empty the room completely, including, if need be, taking down the bed, dissembling furniture, etc. We decided to start by emptying the closet. M started handing out clothes to me, I shook them a little, then made piles I brought to the living room. At some point our teenage neighbor's boyfriend arrived to drop her off at her house, and for a second they stared at us through the windows, all lights on and drapes open in the middle of the night, the both of us frantically going through our closet with crazed looks on our faces. Uh-oh, the normally quiet neighbors have started smoking crack or something, I could imagine them thinking.

I brought in the last pile at around 1 AM. Suddenly I turned around and the bat was flying right besides me -I guess it was hiding in clothes after all and we missed it. I screamed again, M arrived. Go fetch the towels, he said! I'll keep an eye on it! When I returned it had perched itself on the highest spot in our house, above our front door. It looked different now, not so big and scary. I took a picture.

M went outside to grab the long-handed net we use for the swimming pool. I was looking at it, and could see that it was just a terrified furry little mouse now -it kept turning up its nose as if to try and recognize a familiar smell (that of outside?), and let out faint cries, which were extremely weird, like a clicking or a metallic sound. M came back, opened the front door, and tried to help the bat out. It started making the noise much, much louder -it was clearly scared, sending out ultrasounds I suppose. It took flight, but instead of getting outside it started going in circles in our living space. I ran to open the patio door on the other side of the room, but again it didn't get out. It suddenly ducked right besides our fireplace.

M was getting despaired. He was furious at himself that we had lost it in the first place and wasted precious hours, he couldn't believe that we had lost it again, and now, in a much wider space. He went to look into the fireplace with a flashlight. The bat was nowhere to be found. I asked him if he was sure it was in there. I really think so, he said. OK, eff it, then, I said. Let's get a really big box and block the fireplace with it and just deal with it later, alright? He agreed, but then just to make sure he moved whatever was close to the fireplace: a chair, a table, some vases for my flowers. He moved the very last item: F's exersaucer. Then he screamed. The bat had been hiding underneath, lying on its belly on the floor. Quickly, I handed him the towel, and he covered it. The bat was not happy. It started with the very loud clicking sound again, only it felt like a buzzing too, M said, like when a cell phone vibrates only a hundred times stronger. Every time we would try to move the towel slightly, it would do it: it's as tough we could feel the sound as much as we could hear it. Gently, M put the towel into the box, brought it into our backyard, and released the bat slowly. It first lay on the patio, then took flight again. Phew.

It was nearly 2 AM. We were so much on an adrenaline high, there was no way we could sleep after that. The funniest thing is that these animals are associated with gory lore so much, unbeknown to each other we both had irrational reactions: when it first appeared into our bedroom, I admit that I had a split second of almost expecting it to disappear into a loud poof! of smoke, and then see a dapper Dracula-type appear instead. My husband, who's the most rational/cynical person I know, told me that at the end, he was so exhausted and stunned that he started thinking: "Did this really happen? Did we really have a bat into our bedroom, or was it some kind of weird paranormal sh*t we both hallucinated????"

The kids never woke up. On the Web, it said that these nocturnal visitors are especially frequent in houses in August, because that's when the babies start fending for themselves, and their instinct/orientation is not as sharp. We have NO IDEA where it came from, and obviously never saw it come in. We had seen bats outside before on a couple occasions (like at my mother's house the week before), but not really here in our densely populated suburb. It was the first time we saw one that close, even while M lived in a big, old country house with a huge barn until his early-twenties, and even while when I was 17 I spent one summer working on a remote island in an Ontario provincial park (there) where my cabin had no electricity and we had EVERYTHING else: bears, raccoons, an old scary flying squirrel, plate-size moths.

We were of course slightly concerned about rabies for the kids: what if the bat had gone into their room before ours and bit them? Even though the chances of the bat being infected was low, it was still scary: if untreated, rabies is always fatal. But we tried not to be too crazy: only about 10% of bats captured and analyzed in Canada end up carrying rabies. The kids doors' were not shut, but they were still almost so. So the odds of the bat having been inside, having found the sleeping child, and having decided to bite it even though the child was still seemed unlikely. The bat didn't bite us, in fact, it seemed to want to avoid us at all costs. I ended up checking with our local health authority, and they don't systematically administer the rabies vaccine (which is very expensive, full of harsh side effects, and has to be given in 5 different doses over several days) only because a bat was found in a house where there were sleeping children. There has to be something that lets you believe there was indeed a bite: either bite marks, or the child suddenly waking up while crying violently as if in pain, only to find the bat shortly after. The kids don't have any marks. Let's just hope I never have to see a bat again.

One more and I leave you alone with the 80s...

2011-08-05T06:22:00.004-04:00

I was cleaning out my computer and came across these pictures I had saved earlier this spring when I worked on a freelancing project focusing on that decade... Non mais... Look at that CRAZY, rockin', badass style, people. Surprisingly enough, the 80s were not *entirely* bad.

Siouxsie and the Banshees

Bananarama -gotta love the Boy George-inspired hat...

And my personal favorite and forever inspiration: Debbie Harry. I have looked at hundreds of photos of her, and save a few tight t-shirts with no bra outfits, I don't think there is even one look I wouldn't want to wear.

I'll let you be the judge

2011-08-04T06:17:00.064-04:00

People usually say that F looks like me, while LP looks like his dad. I suppose they nearly always say that for everyone, more or less consciously associating the sexes together. I don't know. Of course children are always a mix of both their parents, and take from both families. This is so complex and fascinating... Sometimes you share very obvious traits, like identical eyes or mouths or feet (which I do with both my kids). Then there are resemblances that are much more subtle than that: the way they look at you, the way they laugh, the way they do certain things. Sometimes you realize you have an almost uncanny resemblance with obscure relatives, for instance. Apparently, some things LP does remind my in-laws of M's paternal grandfather. They swear he's just the spitting image of M... While in my family people marvel at how much he looks like me and my dad's family. I agree. I can see so much of myself in my son, in so many ways, that it's hard for me to think otherwise. As for F, it's still hard to tell... Even though she has my eyes -not the color but the shape- and it's always the first thing people comment on, I'm not sure she looks that much like me...

Here is F this week, just about to turn 9 months old, eating beets for the first time. I had completely forgotten how much of a mess babies can make with a ridiculously small amount of food!

Here I am, six months old. Not much hair, quite chubby and not especially cute:

And even though there are no pictures of my husband as a baby, here he is as a toddler. Back then, this picture was published in the newspaper his dad was writing for, to illustrate an article on financial planning for your kids' education. Something in his expression definitely reminds me of her... What do you think?

Storms

2011-08-03T05:59:00.072-04:00

We are having a hot, humid summer. Consequently we are also having a lot of thunderstorms. Very sudden, crazy pouring rain, flash floods in some streets, hail, high winds, temperatures dropping 13 degrees Celsius in under an hour kind of storms.

This one, which occurred on the night of July 21, was especially freaky. A huge cloud sat still over Montreal for a long time around 9 PM, with non-stop, contained lighting bolts (but no rain nor thunder, not here anyway). M, who had been outside taking care of the pool, made us join him and we all stood together, watching in silence (LP was in bed, but wasn't sleeping yet). Even though we live outside the city, the cloud seemed to be right there in front of us. From that footage, it looked like it's from War of the Worlds or Encounter of the Third Kind. Very beautiful and eerie.

The Demon Storm from operatique on Vimeo.

LP's anxiety has flared up again, because of all of these natural phenomenon he doesn't understand (he's also equally scared of fireworks -all of this, including the fire alarm episode two years ago, is always triggered by very loud noises). Poor little guy. This worries me so much, and I'm just unsure what to do. If only we could wrap him in a blanket of security, put his too-aware-for-his-age little mind to rest and find a way to simply make him feel safe again... :-(

Baby girls need clothes, too!

2011-08-02T11:36:00.003-04:00

A few days before we were leaving for California, Rebecca Woolfe from Girl's Gone Child tweeted a picture of the most adorable dress worn by her 2 year-old Fable. I asked her if her talented mom had made it -Fable is the best dressed babe I have ever seen, and I know that a lot of her cute/unexpected/quirky/stylish pint-size fashion sense comes from grandma and her sewing skills. She replied to say that no, the (nonetheless handmade) dress had been purchased at a wonderful fabric store in Oceanside, called Maisonnette. Had I uncover the (not-so) secret source of all of these incredibly unique fabrics I've been eyeing on her site for years? I quickly noted the address and put it aside for our trip.

We met with Rebecca again, by the way, at the Petersen Automotive Museum (where M and I had been six years ago, and where we wanted to take our little car fanatic). She had brought Archer, while Fable was at home with the sitter. We spent an hour and a half chatting, about everything but especially about her upcoming twin girls, about what it would mean for them to become a family of six -so much love and luck, but challenges and fears, too. She was as funny, smart, charming, candid, and cool as ever (I've been following her since 2007, and I don't get starstruck easily, but I'm still in awe of her beauty, talent and amazing personality, even though in person she's just the most down-to-earth, approachable chick ever).

Both times we met, she was exactly 6 months pregnant... I loved her slightly self-deprecating, resigned stance, when she patted her belly and said: "I used to travel a lot and loved it more than anything... But then, I had a million kids." Poor girl. She still looked so fab, but I feel for her: third-trimester pregnant with twins in the LA summer heat, two children to take care of already, a husband who has no choice but to work a lot to support the family, and a blog (as well as other related projects) that she depends on for income and that constantly needs updating, regardless of everything else she has going on. Her mother is supposed to move in for a month when the girls arrive in September; I really hope all goes well.

Back to the fabric store. One morning, we all packed for the beach (the four of us, plus my friend and her two kids) and headed to Oceanside, which is south of LA, about half an hour from San Diego (where Rebecca comes from and where her parents still live). We had lunch at a classic diner, and before going to the waterfront, we looked around for the store. "It better be good!", Julie and I were telling ourselves. When we finally found it, we let M watch our brood and went to have a peek inside.

And, it's like we had landed in heaven! This was our dream store, for the both of us. You know when you have to stop yourself from buying everything? We stayed relatively reasonable, but here were our purchases:

We both got this (handmade) dress for our girls (Julie's is 5, so she can wear it now, but F's is a size 2, so it doesn't fit yet):

I also got this beanie hat, which you'll see later F wore in San Francisco:

I got the pattern for this dress, which my mom will sew in the "beach cruiser" and "urchin forest" organic fabrics below (in the picture the aqua colors don't look quite the same but actually they are):

And finally, Julie bought F this little dress and bloomers outfit, but in a different pattern, which you can see her wearing on the beach in Malibu a few days later:

All goods pictures above are from Maisonnette. Check them out, they even have an online shop! There were so many other beautiful things there: cushions, aprons, children backpacks, boy clothes, retro dresses patterns for women... And the fabrics! I had never seen such an amazing selection. I will certainly do other projects with these (there's even fabric for curtains, raincoats, etc...)

Finally, during the trip, we also got F two little dresses that might fit her next year:

(Watercolor open back dress from crewcuts)

(Ditzy raven dress from All Saints Spitalfields)

How well do you score?

2011-07-29T06:28:00.004-04:00

This isn't exactly fresh news; it came out last fall, but I've just seen it in a TV show rerun. What am I talking about? 10 official cancer prevention recommendations from the FMRC, a French organization which stands for Fonds Mondial de Recherche contre le Cancer (Worldwide Fund for Cancer Research). Apparently, this is quite big: the first time a major health authority has issued such clear, straightforward guidelines to follow if you want to maximize your chances of not becoming a statistic (1 in 3 Canadians will have one cancer within their lifetime, by the way). It's also big in that it plainly associates cancer (some types of it, at least) with the patient's food intake and lifestyle, a very simple, full of sense fact that many people nonetheless still deny.

There was one other über-important recommendation, which they stated apart from these 10 since it is so well-known: do not smoke, and avoid secondary smoke.

1-Be as thin as possible, without being underweight. (A BMI between 21 and 23 is recommended).

According to the TV show I was watching, this is quite edgy; most health bodies state that 25 is still fine, while this seems to imply that even the slightest pudginess can increase your risk. I thought it all depended on where your fat was located: a pear shape is better than an apple one, etc.

2- Be active at least 30 minutes a day.

I thought it would be even longer than that. It's not that much but I don't even do that every day.

3- Avoid sweetened drinks. Limit your intake of calorie-dense foods, especially ones with added sugars, or which contain lots of fat or don't contain much fiber.

In short, fast food, potato chips and soda are a no-no.

4- Increase and vary your intake of vegetables, fruits, whole grains, and legumes.

I always find it strange though that they don't mention pesticides in these cases...

5- Limit your intake of red meat (beef, pork, lamb), and avoid cured meats.

In short, red meat + salt + fat + nitrates = no good. But you already knew that, right?

6- Drink no more than one alcohol unit a day if you're a woman, two if you're a man.

7- Limit your salt intake.

8- Do not take supplements.

I'm a little surprised about this one. Is it because they are inherently bad or because they are simply useless and/or give people a false sense of being in better health than they actually are? But there are exceptions to that rule, like Vitamin D.

9- Breastfeed your baby(ies) for at least 6 months if possible.

Unclear in this case whether the benefit is for the mother, the child, or both...

10- Follow these recommendations very seriously if you are a cancer survivor.

Again, this is big, because it's the first time health authorities underline the importance of diet and lifestyle changes in preventing the recurrence of cancer.

I think we're doing well, probably better than most people. But there's definitely still room for improvement, not to mention that I would have scored very average or below average for most of my life...

Here are the guidelines, in French. These say that "most cancers can be avoided" through personal choices; that's pretty powerful stuff!

Zen-like flowers

2011-07-28T09:44:00.001-04:00

Yesterday a potential corporate customer asked me to produce some prototypes of centerpieces for an upcoming event, practically on the spot, with only a few hours notice. I had never done anything like that before, and I had just a tiny moment of freaking out -after all I'm not a "real" florist with a shop who can pull these off effortlessly with what I already have on hand; however they don't necessarily have to know that... In the end it all worked out, was a lot of fun, and, I think, came out great! Thanks to my daughter who followed me everywhere in the baby carrier, sleeping on me, enjoying the ride (which let me tell you, was quite a workout). She likes action and people, this little one.

All that they asked for was a Zen-like style, with glass containers, river stones, bamboo and orchids. I presented them with three options. Which one is your favorite? I really hope I do get the contract as I am very curious to see what they would choose...

Anti what?

2011-07-27T06:39:00.125-04:00

Have you also noticed lately, the rise of a certain anti-children sentiment? M and I were talking about it yesterday, how there's a recent boom in no-kids-allowed places and events, how somehow after the "you can bring kids everywhere" trend you've seen in recent years, the pendulum was swinging back. There are now restaurants where you can't bring kids, airlines where babies can't fly first class, and so on, on top of certain cruises and resorts.

Up to a certain I don't really mind, per say. We do tend to bring our kids wherever, but at the same time we carefully pick our places and we try to be aware and watch them actively. While we usually try to avoid fast food chains with their (mock) kid-friendly vibe, we don't bring them to very formal places where they would be frown upon, either. Our philosophy is that they should learn to behave themselves and eat even if they're isn't a playground and especially even if the menu doesn't include fries or chicken nuggets, yes. But I'm perfectly OK with leaving them home when a culinary experience is what we're after. During our honeymoon, M and I even stayed at an adult-only resort in Mexico, even though we didn't really know that when we booked -at the last minute, because of the H1N1 crisis.

But since when has it become acceptable to discriminate against children at large? I mean, would it be OK to do so against people of a certain race or religion or sexual orientation? I have been in restaurants with unruly kids, I have also been in planes with crying babies. Did it ruin my experience? Well, in the first case, the kids didn't annoy me as much as the parents, whom I believe should have made sure their young were kept under control, and should have taught them that you can have fun without becoming overexcited (we keep trying with LP anyway, even if it's not always easy -but if he ever became like that in a public place and nothing worked, we would just remove him from the situation). As for the wailing babies, what can you do? Babies (and kids) cry. Flights can be difficult and unpleasant for everyone, especially for them. In this case, I mostly feel bad for the parents, especially when I can see how awful and embarrassed they seemed to feel.

The thing is, the most annoying and apparently-unable-to-behave-themselves-in-society people I've ever seen in restaurants, planes, hotels, and the like, weren't children. They were adults, people that should know better than being extremely loud and brash or plainly rude and impolite, getting very drunk, shouting or playing effin' unbearable dance music in the middle of the night, making a scene for nothing, abusing very nice and patient service people, etc. Come to think of it, our kid-free honeymoon resort became much less of a paradise on the last day, when a bunch of American college students suddenly showed up and took over.

It's not that I think I should receive a special treatment for my kids, or that they should rule. It's not even that I think everyone should have or even like kids -they're a tough little bunch, and if you don't feel you're not cut out for it, it's totally fine and probably better. But systematic kids bashing or "kid-free by choice"-type blogs and site and associations, I don't get. You shouldn't be prejudiced because you decided not to reproduce, for sure. But really? We all know people whose whole identity is centered around their children, and we all know that we don't really want to be around them for too long. But what can be said of people whose whole identity is centered around the fact that they don't even have any?

Cadel

2011-07-26T06:15:00.110-04:00

Watching the Tour de France is a big tradition in our house. We love the gorgeous images, we love the crazy hardship, strategies and drama. We keep promising ourselves to one day travel these beautiful roads together. There's little my husband loves more than driving on mountain passes and roads -last year, one of the highlights of our trip to Italy was the Alps, especially (for him anyway) the Gavia pass, which had just been cycled on for the Giro -the Tour de Italy, if you will. Even if I'm much less of a cycling connoisseur, I still have my own Tour de France anecdote: ten years ago, I watched the riders arrive in Colmar, which is a beautiful small village in Alsace. All I remember was a lot of waiting around with crazy fans, French people blasting sponsor ads in speakers, and the streets being littered with logo-ed trinkets. Then, the great moment: the riders all came into the village, so fast we couldn't really see them, everyone went silent and all we could hear was a very loud whooosh. I took a really great picture (which I don't have anymore) of the winner in action on his bike. Maybe you have vaguely heard of his name once or twice. What was it? Lance... something?

When we learned that our first baby was a boy, M was very keen on a name, which he spent a lot of time trying to sell me. It was Cadel. I thought it was ludicrous, never considering it seriously for even one minute. Where had he ever heard about that?

Well, as a young adult M was very involved in mountain biking. He rode a lot, competed locally, worked in a specialized shop. In 1994, he drove from Quebec City to Vail, Colorado with three of his buddies to take part in the World Championships. They brought their bikes and rode a bit, too, although not in the official competition, because they weren't of that caliber, obviously. And that's where he got to know a 17 year-old Australian, who was competing as a junior. Who was unbelievably talented, and who won second place, after a Frenchmen who eventually disappeared into oblivion (ha!). His name was Cadel Evans.

The same Cadel Evans who has since switched to road biking, made it pro, and at the age of 34, has finally won a Tour de France, which just might turn him into a legend. Who's apparently a very humble man, living in a remote village of the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland, with his wife who's a classically-trained concert pianist. Whose reputation states he never was into doping (although as much as I'd like to believe that, I'm very much a cynic when it comes to that sport and its incredible level of sustained performance).

Congratulations Cadel. It was fun to hear LP repeatedly say your name, and remember that this is how his father once wanted to name him, because you had impressed him that much so many years ago.

By the way, now that the name will not be so obscure anymore, do I regret vetoing it five years ago? Er, no.

Some are arriving, some are leaving

2011-07-25T05:57:00.249-04:00

1980

My beloved grandfather is gone.

The day before we got back from LA, I worked on flowers for two events (will post about that soon). My sister, who was 41 weeks pregnant at this point, got an induction and this is how, in the midst of visiting the LA Flower Market, conditioning stems and preparing about 10 different arrangements, I followed her labor and the birth of my niece via text messages from my mom. She was born late afternoon on that very day, after a short and thankfully uneventful childbirth. That night, I was still on a high, so eager to see her when we got home.

When I woke up the next morning, I had a voicemail from my mom. Since I was outside my network, I couldn't access it, but figured she only wanted to gush about how cute the baby was and ask when we would be home (we were flying out in the afternoon). I told my friend Julie I'd just call her back when we got there. "Take our landphone and call her," she said. "But I wouldn't want you to pay for the long distance call..." "Do it", she insisted.

My mom only answered right when I was about to hang up. "Allo, ça va?," I asked. Her voice was distant and lost. "Non ça va pas," she said. "It's not going well at all." And at that moment I admit that my heart skipped about 5 beats, because my first instinct was to think, Oh My God something happened to the baby. "My father has died," she went on. And for a second I felt a surge of relief flowing through me -my sister and niece were alright. But then just as fast, the realization came and the sting began.

It not that I didn't expect it. His health had degraded in recent months, he had been to the hospital often, had taken more time than usual to bounce back. There was water on his lungs, he had pneumonia, had lost a lot of weight. I first felt it after talking with him on the phone following this new difficult episode, which happened in the spring. I even told my mom about it. "The tone has changed. It's not just another annoyance in their existence now. He has moved into the end-of-life stage." "I'm sure he still has a couple of years," she shrugged off. He was only 79. How could we not think so? He had overcome so much throughout his life, throughout the last few years especially. He had always been there. I guess I just thought he would never leave.

Back then, I told M "we need to spend more time with him now. We need to take good pictures of him with the kids (and then boo our damn camera broke). I need to make him tell me his stories again so I can finally write them down."

We went out to brunch with them in mid-June, on a rainy day. I had a shock when I first saw him (the last picture is from then), how thinner and older and frailer he suddenly looked. But he didn't want us to think so. His mind was still just as sharp. We talked about everything and nothing, how much F had changed... He thought I would arrive with a sleeping, swaddled baby in my arms, but there she was in her high chair, eating and holding her own cup and babbling and smiling to him. He wanted to hold her. I love babies, I love holding them and rocking them, but usually people don't let me, he said. While he did, I had the presence to at least capture the moment with my phone. It was the last picture of him the whole family would have (I know I'll eventually have to remove the stupid coffee pot in the back). We went back to their condo after, where he played with LP, and then they gave us the tour of their building -LP wanted to see the pool and the game room. When we left, we hugged. I told him that the weekend after we came back from California, I wanted them to come to our place for a barbecue. He agreed, but I could see he was thinking -I'm not dying you know, there's no need to rush.

Even though this day was probably fairly tiring for him, I'm sure it also made him very happy. Just like my sisters, cousins and I did, his great-grand-kids meant the world to him. When I was a child, actually, he even promised me that he wouldn't die before getting to know my own children. And he didn't, my grand-papa, he didn't.

LP's first birthday, 2008

He called two days before we left for California. He was so sorry about F's accident, and wanted to know how she was. He wished us a good trip (he'd always say: "Good for you you're traveling so much! Enjoy it while you can, while you're still young!), then we reiterated our plans -barbecue at our house, weather permitting, three Saturdays from then.

I didn't know that while we were in LA, but a few days before passing away he got into the hospital again. His heart was slowly failing. The water on his lungs was becoming too big of a burden for his already very tried body. He got worse then got better enough to be transferred out of the critical care unit. On his last day the doctor told him that they wanted to keep him in so they could run some tests to see if he would be fit enough to undergo yet another heart surgery. The doctor said he badly needed it, but frankly, wasn't sure that he could handle it.

Our wedding, 2009

Later that day, my mother called him, told him she was on her way to another hospital where his latest great-grandchild was soon to be born. My grandfather was so happy. "Congratulate your daughter! And kiss my great-grand-daughter for me until I can see her, all right?" Then, he said: "Some are arriving, and some are leaving." "Don't be silly!", my mom said. "I'm coming tomorrow to spend the afternoon with you, OK?" Then she hung up.

Christmas 2010 -F was 7 weeks old

That night, he woke up at 4 and called the nurse. He was cold, so he asked for some hot water and a blanket. He was still cold, so he asked to put on his fleece jacket (there was -there still is- a heat wave here). She left. A different nurse came back at 5:20. He had no pulse. They weren't able to resuscitate him. His almighty heart simply couldn't take it anymore.

My mom arrived before 7. He was peaceful, at every moment she thought he would open his sparkly eyes again. He drifted away in his sleep, without suffering or even realizing it. The doctors couldn't believe that he had survived his triple bypass sixteen years, especially with two cancers, bouts of pneumonia, whatnot. He was a very strong man. Unfortunately even the strongest ones do not live forever.

June 2011

His funeral was this weekend. It was a gorgeous day, exactly three Saturdays after our last phone call. Tragically it took his death to gather us six cousins and eight great-grandchildren together for the first time. We all cried and hugged. I know exactly what they were thinking -that the greatest part of our childhood, the carefreeness, the sheer happiness of that time, was gone for real now. I still can't get around the fact that I will never see him again. How could he not be there? He's always been there, for 36 years. I know the fact that I have gone that long before losing someone really close to me makes me really lucky. But it doesn't hurt any less.

I go from acute bouts of sadness to almost pleasant nostalgia, to laughter when I remember his humor and silliness. I feel sad the last part of his life was tainted with bad luck and gloom, I feel sad that at his funeral only the last part of his life was mentioned (not the one he had with my grandma). The handsome, confident, successful, young-(ish) man he'd once been wasn't there. But at least, it is still there in my heart.

Au revoir, grand-papa. I love you to bits. Thank you for everything... I'm so lucky I had you to play this very important figure -in retrospect, this doting role was probably the one you were best at in your life. I'm so lucky you hung around that long and not only get to meet my children but really played an active role in their lives, too. Caring for them since you've been gone provides a great deal of comfort to me you know, as if these simple, trivial acts and day-to-day gestures were somehow a little bit like a tribute to you, to how your lineage will continue through them. I'm so sorry we never had a chance to say goodbye.

Good luck, Heather!

2011-07-22T06:23:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow a dear blog friend is getting married somewhere in the Canadian Prairies. She was nice enough to hire me as a "floral consultant," which only means that I tried (and hopefully did not completely fail) to help plan her DIY flowers via email.

She and her fiancé are both teachers, so their sort of theme was apples (cute, no?). Her colors are ivory with aubergine purple and some green. For her centerpieces, she went with bowls of the fruit along with deep purple carnations. He bouquet will be ivory roses, and smaller bouquets, boutonnieres, corsages, etc, will be a mix of roses, hydrangeas, and carnations, with some white hypericum.

Bonne chance, hope you have a wonderful day and I can't wait to see the pictures!

This is why I keep going back.

2011-07-21T05:54:00.003-04:00

Well, part of why I keep going back. Here is what was waiting for us when we arrived in LA on July 4. I mean.

(Go see and read more on Julie's site. You may have to do a search for '4th of July' -there's no way to link directly to the page).

By the way, the trip went really well. We were supposed to have a connection in Dallas, but upon checking in American informed us that the flight was pretty full and kindly asked us if we would mind being switched to a direct Air Canada flight that left 10 minutes later? Did we mind??? Flying with Air Canada is SO MUCH better (we hadn't booked this flight because it was significantly more expensive), not to mention that this meant we would arrive in LA nearly four hours earlier. We landed at 10:43 AM, local time, after a very smooth and dare I say even pleasant trip.

We were completely giddy, not believing our luck. And where did we immediately head? Well we wanted to please LP, of course. After all, there was no messing about with "his favorite meal".

P.S. Our friends are not moving to Denver after all. So we'll go back again for sure. Although, you know, not in the near future because as much as we like it, after going twice in four months that would be a complete overkill.

The long overdue post

2011-07-19T09:44:00.005-04:00

(Driving up the Pacific Coast Highway, between San Simeon and Big Sur)

Hi! We're back! And I'm sorry I didn't post during our vacation after all, but it was only because time flies when you're having fun, not because I was still feeling so bad about what happened before we left.

It's been fantastic, as you might expect. Exactly what we needed to move forward and change my mood. We've done so much in these two weeks, I can't wait to tell you more about it. Do you also feel like life is more flavorful and vivid when on vacation?

Bébé is doing great. She has gotten her first two teeth during the trip, which is just so cute. I returned to the hospital with her yesterday for her post-bandages appointment, and they were impressed, telling me they didn't even need to see her anymore. She's healed; her skin is still rosy and fragile, quickly becoming red when in the bath, etc. (which completely freaked us out the first time), but it's perfectly normal, and will improve over the next few months. It will probably take a year before we know for sure if the burn will leave a trace -the resident said it might, depending on her genetic skin elasticity, but the plastic surgeon said she didn't think so. I feel so relieved. We even took her to the beach twice, but kept her dressed and under an umbrella. She still enjoyed playing in the sand!

(I'm going to do a post about that little outfit soon!)

(M is not going to be happy I posted this, he thinks he looks awful on this picture -well they're not his best, but I don't think it's so bad, either. It's certainly not my best, but hey. I'm sorry you have to put up with the crappy iphone pics again, by the way, but unfortunately that's pretty much all there is. Our camera broke in May and we didn't get in back in time for out trip. I know.)

This week is really crazy, but I'll be back soon, promise. There's lots to post about: adorable baby clothes, but also friends and a beautiful but oh-so-cold city and how much we fell in love with Napa and our new niece and even flowers! Believe it or not, I've managed to work while in LA. There are more sad news too, unfortunately, which largely contributes to this week's busyness. But please don't worry, nothing concerning our immediate family. We are good. We are recharged. California does that to you.

P.S. By the way, thanks to everyone who added me in Google + and Pinterest recently. Basically I've only created accounts and didn't do anything with it yet, so this is why I don't have any activity or haven't replied. I will go explore and figure it out whenever I get a chance.

A week

2011-07-01T10:50:00.000-04:00

Thank you all again so much for your outpouring of support. It really made a difference in my state of mind, and helped me see a greater part of the picture.

It's been a week today. I changed all our calendars this morning, and realized that today we were starting the second part of the year. I feel better, I really do. M is on vacation (well, paternity leave), it's a nice day out, and this morning we made waffles and danced silly in our living room, while the kids laughed heartily. It was OK to reel and to take some time to find my ground again. I'll probably have some more dark moments -a week still isn't that much (and waking up at 4 AM to hear her weep silently in her sleep is not fun). But I can also decide to accept that it happened, and that it was in the first half of the year, and that now we can move on as best as we can. She's here, she's happy, she doesn't realize what happened and won't remember. What more can I ask for? The rest will come, we only have to be patient.

We got the clear to go to California; she's still far from there but she's healing normally, and there aren't any more concerns now. They'll change her bandages one last time before we leave, and then we'll keep that one for a week, taking it off ourselves in the bath there. She should be healed enough by then not to require another one. They say there's a very slight chance that she might need a lighter one still, and if so, we can go to a clinic and have it done in LA (and pay out of pocket obviously, because our insurance won't cover that). The bandages they use include a coating of silver, which speeds up healing and prevents infection; it's apparently the best thing that she could receive.

We're leaving very early on Monday morning. I'll probably do a few quick posts there. The change of scenery will probably do us good, don't you think?

How can I tell you this?

2011-06-30T06:13:00.004-04:00

(My little darling the day before...)

There's been a little accident. Happened a week ago, actually, but I wasn't able to write about it then. So I decided to let my three scheduled posts run, thinking that by now it would be easier. But it's still not.

Last Friday morning, we were all at home together (it was Quebec's National Holiday), still in our PJs, wondering what to do with our day. M started making peanut butter pancakes with LP. I put the kettle on, then brought my very hot tea mug to the table. Little miss F had finished her breakfast, so like I sometimes do, I sat her on my lap. I automatically pushed my mug a little further to make it out of her reach, since she's been wanting to grab everything, lately. Then, during a second a distraction while I talked to LP, the unthinkable happened: she still somehow managed to grab it and spill it on the table. On herself, mostly.

I still remember the moment when I realized that this was going to be really, really bad, but that there was nothing I could do. I jumped out and yelled. "What's wrong?", said M, startled. "She burned herself, she burned herself!', I shouted, completely hysterical. "Put her under cold water!" After a few seconds she started crying, an extremely loud, high-pitched, non-stop shrill that would go on for the next hour and a half. M immediately put her into the kitchen sink with running water. I was trying to be focused but mostly failing, my heart racing, taking LP to his room to try and get him dressed (he had started crying too) while telling him that we were going to the hospital, then just throwing his clothes on the floor and giving up, then running the cold water in the bath for no reason, then reaching for towels and wetting them, all into the same 30 seconds. I went back and grabbed her. "Don't panic, it's going to be OK, it's going to be OK," M kept saying, but I knew it wouldn't be because I could feel the extreme burning sensation on my own thigh and wrist. We undressed her (she was wearing a onesie and jeans), and she was completely red on her abdomen, with skin peeling off already (M said this was the moment he realized this was for real, worse that everything we had ever experienced as parents). I put her onto her changing pad and applied cold wet towels on her. I told M to get LP dressed and take him to the neighbors, which he did. During this time I was still running around like a mad person with her in my arms, getting more towels, putting her on my bed to get dressed in whatever clothes and shoes, taking a diaper. When he came back, I asked M to assemble everything we needed to go to the hospital, then I had the idea to take her to the neighbors, too (our neighbor is a firefighter, so he's trained as an emergency first respondent). We stormed into their house with the naked, all wrapped baby. His wife dialed 911, he pulled out bandages used for burns, and they sat me down on a chair with F on my lap, applied the bandages on her, bringing new cold wet towels every minute. LP was downstairs with their girls, apparently OK (he told me later that at this point he was "reassured"). M was running in and out of the house, bringing our car seat, her pacifier, our house and car keys to leave them, a blanket and some clothes, the diaper bag, her medical ID, etc. The wait seemed endless. She kept looking at me in shock, not understanding what had happened to her, her mouth dry from shouting, almost yelping in real, real, pain. I basically wanted to die.

Finally the paramedics arrived, two women, one of them the rudest, least compassionate person I've ever met. They decided to leave the temporary bandage made by my neighbor, installed her in her car seat, then on the gurney, and put her into the ambulance. I climbed in, and M followed in our car. The ride made her calmer. They monitored her heart rate, which was regular, and gave her oxygen, which I was told was standard procedure for pediatric patients. I couldn't believe I was going through this, speeding on the highway in an ambulance with strangers taking care of my little baby. We arrived at a local (suburban) hospital I had never been to, and just like in Grey's Anatomy, two people were waiting for us in the yard, helping us to rush her in. They brought her into the "shock" room, and told me to wait outside. I asked one of the guys to bring me some OJ, since I am hypoglycemic, had not eaten anything, and was feeling really faint. Someone did almost immediately. I could still hear her wail. I wanted to just lie on the floor and break down. After two minutes, a nurse came to fetch us, just as M was coming in.

At least seven people were taking care of her. They had changed her diaper, removed the bandage, put electrodes on her tiny body. A nurse had even brought in a small bottle of formula, "just in case". When I told them I still breastfed her, they asked me to try right then, to see if it would calm and comfort her, but she wouldn't take the breast, she was too distressed. The friendly doctor reassured us while his very efficient team worked. When he asked when had this happened and M told him "half an hour ago," it didn't compute at all. It seemed like it had been years. She had second degree burns (superficial as opposed to deep) on about 10% of her body, mostly her abdomen, with little spots on her left hand (I think she's going to be a leftie like her mommy). He expected her to heal relatively quickly without requiring any kind of procedure. But because it was 10%, after she was stabilized they would have to transfer her to one of the two Children's Hospital in Montreal (which Will and Kate are scheduled to visit tomorrow). Again, standard procedure for a baby this age, not because it was so critical, but because there were concerns about her maintaining her body heat and hydration. You lose a lot of heat and fluids with such a burn, so she would need to be monitored. They decided to wait a little before doing another bandage, because they wanted to see how "far" the burn would go. They gave her ibuprofen, then attempted to install her hydration IV. They made me leave, because apparently I looked (and felt) as if I wouldn't be able to take it. I expected it to be endless and awful, but M came back to get me after five (long) minutes of hearing her wail again. It was done, and they had given her a small dose of a morphine derivative.

F was now calm and awake, just looking at everything around her with her very wide eyes. They wrapped her abdomen up again, and she did not say anything. We waited for the other ambulance to arrive. One of the nurses told us that she would accompany us there and discuss the case with the team taking over. I was sitting by F's side, still blindsided. But then I realized that her expression had changed. She was smiling at me. And when I smiled back, she did a little hand wave with her burned hand, something she had started doing just the day before. I cannot tell you how much better I felt at this moment. My baby was back. She was going to be alright.

Before momentarily leaving him again, I told M to call everyone, to arrange for his sister to pick up LP, to have his parents come from Quebec City. We hopped into another ambulance, arrived at another hospital. F slept the whole trip. This time, the paramedics and the nurse were really friendly, and I was so grateful for them to be there. After the nurses "transferred" the case, we were taken to a small room within the ER, where they hooked her onto a new IV machine, examined her, took standard samples from her throat, ears and nose (to verify if any unusual bacteria was on the surface of her skin, which would have made infections more likely). They took us to the "Observation Room" adjacent to the ER, where they let us put our things into a small glassed room with a rocking chair and a crib. M left with her to be seen by doctors and get a better bandage done. Again, they suggested I stayed behind, because I "looked too weak and pale". I was such a wreck I didn't really argue. Being with her would be agony, being without her would be agony. I thought that they would come back within five minutes, so I sat on the rocking chair and watched the seconds pass on the clock, one after another. I could hear a baby wail and assumed it was her, I couldn't control myself, I was crying hysterically again. Once in a while a nurse would smile tenderly at me and told me everything would be fine. Over an hour passed. I didn't think I could physically take it anymore.

Then M brought her back. She was calm and happy to see me. He told me that they had cleaned her wounds, peeled all the little dead skin off, and she hadn't even cried for a second. The doctors had taken pictures of her chest with their iphones and put it on a repository, so if someone else wanted to see it they wouldn't have to make her endure any more pain. She was all bandaged up, including her hand. They told us they would soon take us to a room on a different floor to spend the night. Several nurses and doctors came to check up on her. I nursed her, I hadn't all day and it was nearly 3 PM. She fell asleep in my arms.

M went to have a bite to eat, then I did -we were still running on empty stomachs. We called LP and told him that we were alright, bébé was OK, we would be back soon. I texted my mom who was begging for reassurance. I didn't feel like I could talk to anyone except my son (I still find it difficult, actually), I was so certain everyone was going to blame me and I didn't think I could take it.

Around 5, we were taken into a private room in the Trauma department. There was a bed on the floor for me as well. Nurses took care of her, taking her vitals, bringing her a high chair and a tray of homemade purees within five minutes. We put her into it and she ate with great appetite. She was pretty much back to being herself, curious, social, smiling, chatting, batting her eyelashes to flirt with everyone. She truly amazed us.

M went back home to get us some things and spend a little time with LP. Around bedtime, she became a little fussy, so she was given a micro dose of morphine. I hated my baby to receive narcotics, but I hated the idea of her suffering excruciatingly even more. M came back and stayed with me until she fell asleep at around 9:30, then he went home. I dreaded the night, but it ended up not being so bad. F slept well despite nurses coming in every hour, and despite all the tubes, wires, monitors that kept on beeping because her pulse was getting too high and such. She only woke up twice to nurse, and fell right back to sleep. I slept too, even if never longer than in hour-long stretches. They would take every dirty diaper I took off her and weigh it, to make sure she was hydrated enough. After a while, they determined that she was. Given the circumstances, she was doing very, very well.

Despite realizing the situation it's as if it hadn't really sank in yet. At this point I was just so relieved to see that she was doing well and that it hadn't been worse, it's as tough I had forgotten why we were there in the first place. I couldn't really see the bandages anymore, they didn't shock me, and I couldn't really imagine what was under them, either. I was still, however, endlessly thinking about the moment, reliving it, trying over and over again to see how it could have been different. Why didn't I let my tea cool on the counter like I often do? Why didn't I put her on her playmat after breakfast until I finished mine like I usually do? Why didn't I put her in the thick, long-sleeved sweater I had decided she would wear on that cool day, but put aside for after breakfast because I didn't want her to stain it? But also, how lucky that it was a holiday and I didn't have to deal with this alone. I additionally realized that her bulky, super absorbent cloth diaper probably stopped her from being burned on her lower abdomen,
genitals, and legs, so at least there was that.

M returned early the next morning, and the plastic surgeon who was going to be in charge of her from now on came by, so the nurses gave F morphine again and took out her bandages. I braced, and it really looked terrible to me, but everyone said that it wasn't a "bad burn" at all, and they had seen much, much worse. The surgeon told us we could take her home, and come back to change her bandages every few days. It would heal by itself, and after the bandages were gone we would only have to massage the area with lotion 3 times a day to help the skin regenerate, and keep her out of the sun for at least a year. She did expect the burns to leave a faint trace, not a scar per say but maybe just a slight discoloration. We told her we we supposed to go to California a week later. She said that she wasn't sure she would be healed enough then, but we would see.

The nightmare was over, but then a new, more insidious one was beginning. Our life sort of resumed normally, thanks mostly to LP, and thanks to F who has been nothing but a champ. We give her Tylenol every four hours, and have codeine on hand in case she's really fussy and seems to be suffering, but we barely had to give it to her. She laughs when we tickle and kiss her, greets us in her crib with a smile, and still adores her brother more than anything. She eats, and nurses, and babbles, and plays, just as usual. She doesn't seem to mind her bandages at all, and basically never complains. When I see her like that, it makes me feel OK. She gives me strength and energy. I try to remember that she won't always be like this.

But to tell you that I'm feeling good would be lying. I was deeply shaken, and every day it seems to sink in more and more. When I look at the pictures now it hurts more than when I took them. My tiny baby, so surprisingly strong, but so fragile, too. Seeing her wound (her chest basically has no skin now, and it looks so incredibly painful) is putting me in a really, really bad place. You have no idea how much I would have wanted to take the hit, take the pain in her place. It's so hard to accept that she has to go through this. I don't try to suppress these feelings, I just want to process them (writing this helps, I think), and find a way to live with them. I have fallen apart on occasions, it's only normal I think. But there are also some dark demons in there (figurative speech! I am not losing my mind, I promise), and I'm trying hard to fight them, because this kind of guilt is a bottomless pit, really, and no one wins if I give in.

I know you guys are kind people and you are all going to want to tell me that it's not my fault, I shouldn't feel responsible for this. And I know it's not my fault, of course. I never in a million years wanted or thought that anything like that could ever happen. I know that. But. This shouldn't have happened. My role is exactly to protect her from things like that. I didn't. I've been way too relaxed and carefree in such situations. I can't afford moments of inattention like those, and I have plenty of them, thanks to my usual tiredness and flakiness. I'm supposed to make sure she doesn't get hurt. She got really, really, really hurt.

I love it when...

2011-06-29T06:02:00.108-04:00

...food producers use the "you wouldn't buy it" excuse to distract you from the real reason...

For instance, a few years ago, we changed the way we buy meat: eating less, and of better quality. Over time I have found pretty reliable sources for everything, with a few exceptions. Bacon was one, and the other was ham. Both things we occasionally love, but found hard to find without nitrates, which is a preservative, mostly used for color. It's carcinogenic, so this is why they don't recommend deli meats for young children, part of the reason why no one should eat that much of it (there's also the salt and saturated fat, of course), and why they say when you do eat it you should balance it out with a food that contains antioxidants. Mhh. OK. But I'd still rather avoid it when I can.

So several times I've asked butchers, or farms, or the like, if they added it to their ham. "Oh but we have to. If we didn't, you wouldn't buy it." Really? I wouldn't? You know that?

That's kind of funny. It's also exactly what apple orchards tell us during our annual visit in the fall when we ask if they spray their fruit with pesticides: "We do because you wouldn't want an apple that's not treated." Well isn't strange. Because interestingly enough most supermarkets now offer a wide range of organic apples, and, wait, they look fine! They're also just as tasty. Some are just a little smaller, some are less shiny, but that's not even really a rule.

Don't assume what I want. Don't use your "just between you and me" tone of voice, as if you were doing me a favor. Don't do something that's bad for me and my family, and tell me that you're doing it "for me". Don't tell me what I need or don't. Give me a choice, and I'll make it, alright?

I know you're probably not a bad guy, you just have to make understandable choices. But I'd really rather have you tell me the truth, something like: "Listen, doing things differently is more difficult. It take a little more time, and it cost a little more, and our margins are thin and we don't want to scare our customers away. It's always easier to just do what we've always been doing, and rely on the fact that 99.9% of people don't ask questions and don't even care."

I'm sorry to be the annoying one that does. I don't mean to be, you know. It's just become some kind of a personal battle of mine. How not OK the whole food industry is, how much it relies on the fact that they just can get away with it. I know it's more complicated to ask questions and to care; wouldn't it be so much better if we didn't have to? But that's the thing. The industry knows you'd rather not care; whether it deserves it or not (definitely not, very often), it has your trust, so why toy with something so golden?

And the funniest thing? Recently I've seen ads for new nitrate-free meat products (for instance these and these -the "rolling greens" stuff on their site is still such BS, by the way), not even just ham, but also bacon, sausage, hot dogs, deli meats, salami, and the like... The ingredients are just like a dream: pork, salt, garlic, mustard seed. And wait, they look, and taste, exactly the same. Isn't crazy? So I guess, you didn't really have to after all, uh?

The Switch

2011-06-28T06:15:00.004-04:00

The following ad came up recently during the Jamie Oliver Food Revolution show on ABC. It's for a new, customizable cover on your Dell laptop:

And, something sounded vaguely familiar. Until I put my finger on it. Malajube!

One of my favorite local bands. I'm so happy they got that gig, it will probably win them big, both in terms of visibility and financial sustenance.

I even posted about that song back in 2008. No I did!

Sun blocking

2011-06-27T06:09:00.128-04:00

Do you know what's in your sunscreen? It seems simple enough: the sun can burn your skin, hence you put on a product that protects you from it. So that product is good, harmless and trustworthy, right? Of course, when you dig just a few inches deeper, you then realize that it's not. Unfortunately, it's never that simple.

The world of sunscreens is apparently a bit of a free-for-all. There are few regulations that prevent, for instance, a manufacturer from making unverified claims. So when an advocacy group tested over 1,700 products earlier this year, they found that 80% failed the test, either because they weren't as protective as they claimed, or because they contained potentially dangerous ingredients. Four out of five! I just couldn't believe it, even though I must say that for the last couple of years, since I've started researching and questioning cosmetics, I've seen little but disappointing claims, unscrupulous abuse of the public's trust, lots of cause for concern, and so on.

Here are some general rules from what I've been reading on:

-Mineral ingredients, like zinc and titanium, are better choices than chemicals, some of which have serious toxicity concerns.

-Oxybenzone is the main ingredient to be avoided, especially for children, because it is widely presumed to be an endocrine disruptor (same as BPAs).

-Another culprit you don't want in your sunscreen: forms of vitamin A, which new evidence suggests is photo-carcinogenic, i.e. could cause cancer when exposed to light! WTF! Manufacturers use it sometimes because it's an antioxidant, which slows down skin aging.

-Don't trust very high SPF claims (like SPF50+). Usually, these are simply untrue, and they give you a crazy, potentially dangerous false sense of security.

-Don't forget UVA protection. Most sunscreens fail at providing an adequate one.

-Stay away from spray-on formulas. From what I understand, the nano-particles used in those could be inhaled or absorbed into the skin, which can be hazardous.

When I checked the industrial-size tub they were using at LP's daycare, I immediately saw that it was loaded with oxybenzone, parabens, etc. So I have become one of those annoying mothers, who bring in their own (they were charging us $23 per year for that cr*p, by the way).

But which one to choose? This database provides a good list, but I picked the La Roche-Posay Anthelios. Why? It contains a mix of sun filters, including titanium, but also avobenzone, which is considered the "better" of the chemicals, as well as Mexoryl, a seldom used but highly effective UVA filter. Both avobenzone and Mexoryl are in the "lowest concern for human exposure and toxicity" category. It it water and sweat-resistant (do not believe a label that says "waterproof," it's simply not possible), and has an easy-to-apply lotion formula. On the negative side, it's pricey, and it may or may not contain parabens (I couldn't verify for sure).

I also remembered that my dad always insisted on us putting Ombrelle when we were teens (I don't think we were using much sunscreen when I was a kid). So I checked the ingredients and surprise: they're basically identical as the LaRoche-Posay, and it's much cheaper. Then I realized both brands were owned by L'Oreal, so it figures... I think I'll go with this brand from now on. Kudos to them, by the way, for the little "Add to my Blog" widget on their website.

And lastly, you know what, I don't think the sun is that much of an enemy. Call me crazy but I still think we need a little exposure every day whenever possible, if only because we need the vitamin D, especially around here when we don't get much in the winter. So I don't systematically apply sunscreen to the kids whenever we step foot out of the house. If we go out for a few minutes, to water the plants for instance, or if we're only walking to the car, then to the store, then back to the car, I don't use it. For anything longer than that, we lather it on.

Have fun in the sun!

Merci.

2011-06-23T06:28:00.094-04:00

Thank you all so much for your love and support re: last week's post on my struggles as a mother of two (including those of you who sent emails). It means everything to me, it really does, you have no idea. Here are a few afterthoughts...

I know I have perfectionist tendencies, coupled with a big fear of failure, which has always led me to be more of an underachiever than I probably should/could have been. This is certainly part of the problem (as is the fact that I am such an overthinker), but the thing is this isn't about me... It's about them. I don't wish to be a better mother for the sake of my own standards, it's more that I feel this is the one thing I CAN'T sc*ew up. But your comments were really helpful, and really there's nothing to do but relax a little more, and not agonize so much over this.

Strangely, I don't really feel so bad about the situation regarding F... It's true that she does get a little shortchanged compared to when LP was a baby (I don't read stories to her every night and rock her like I did with him, etc.), but then she just doesn't know that. She has never known anything else, and when I look at her I can see that she's absolutely thriving... It's not always the case for LP, whom I can see sometimes suffer from the situation.

It was a little freaky and ominous that the night before this post was scheduled for publishing, my son, who's been sleeping remarkably well lately, woke up crying and confused. When I went to see him, he first told me he had a nightmare, but after a few minutes it turned into a very real, desperate, semi-conscious meltdown about exactly what I was trying to articulate in the post. Not quite awake, sobbing, he started shouting at me that he didn't want me to take care of the baby anymore, he didn't want to have a little sister anymore! He wanted me to take care of him! He needed me! In the past seven months, he had never expressed anything like that. He wasn't mean, he was just hurt.

I finally calmed him down, after a very long time cuddling and kissing and whispering into his ear that he was my one and only big boy, that I adored him, I loved him so much, in fact, that I didn't want him to grow up alone, I had wanted to give him a little sister who is now his biggest fan. That I knew this hasn't been the easiest time for him lately, but that it would only get better... That I would always be there for him, and that I would try for us two to have more time together every day... The next morning, he didn't remember anything, and had reverted back to being the loving big brother that he is.

I really hope that my post has not suggested in the slightest way that I ever regretted this decision to have another child... Because it has never been the case. Even on the tough days, I'm still so happy that we decided to plunge. The interaction that they already have makes everything worthwhile -LP can make her laugh like neither of us can, and seeing them being silly together is the best feeling ever. It's like we didn't even know before that our family wasn't complete... And now it is. So don't you worry about us... I know it won't always be that intense and challenging, and I never forget about the blissful moments, either. I'll just keep trying... I'll just never stop trying. We'll be alright. I hope.

(On the Lake Champlain ferry, Father's Day).

Spooked

2011-06-22T06:31:00.009-04:00

I don't really believe in supernatural stuff much. We don't have ghost stories in our family, or things like that. They interest me and sometimes fascinate me, it's almost as of I'd like to believe them, however my rational, skeptical side always wins.

About six years ago, I went to see a psychic, after someone at work kept insisting on taking me me for months. She wanted to make me a convert. She lived by what that woman told her, and she was so certain that I would, too. Back then, M and I knew each other, had told each other about our feelings, and I was thinking about him all the time. But he had recently started to see someone, having decided that after two years of waiting for me, if nothing had happened yet then it never would (ha!). So we weren't a couple.

So did the psychic wowed me? Meh. Not really. Although a lot of what she told me did come true, that yes, we would be together and he was the true love of my life, we would get married, have two children -one girl and one boy, etc. She also somewhat (although not exactly) accurately predicted how we would officially start our relationship, a week or two after that. She additionally said that we would one day start a business together, and live in a big, secluded house by the water with lots of space and a huge wooden garden, which actually are our two big, main dreams (well that and living abroad).

But you know, she told me what I wanted to hear and to believe. Nothing in there is also out of the ordinary -she pretty much described the most generic life path and family one could have. Normal odds of these things happening anyway were pretty much in her favor... Furthermore, I mostly think that these people's greatest talent lies in extracting the slightest thing you suggest to them, verbally and non-verbally, and extrapolating on that... The only thing that did take me aback was when she affirmed that M rode a motorcycle, because truly she had no way of knowing that and it was pretty random. So.

But premonitory dreams/visions/feelings, I don't know. These are puzzling and a little confounding. My dad has had not one but two of those, both occurring within a month of each other when I was a baby. Both were true and completely spooky. My father is a science man, very rational and sensible. So these, I believe.

Now you might remember that M has started a new job a few months ago. So even though he's friendly with his co-workers, he doesn't know them much and hasn't shared a lot about his personal life. But last week one of them came to his desk, looking grave.

She asked him, completely out of the blue, whether he had a specific health issue (which he does, but nearly no ones knows that). M nodded, a little dumbfounded. "Is is well controlled?", she went on. M shook his head. "Go to doctor. You need to be better at controlling this".

"Er?..." Was all M was able to say.

She went on to ask that he please not think of her as a witch, but that she had a dream about him last night. About this aspect of his health, which is not major but could potentially become worrisome. And it wasn't good. She felt awful and couldn't sleep after. She added that it was one of those dreams she has once in a while when she knows she has to tell the person after.

And did these dreams usually come true? Yes, she said. Once, she even called a friend she hadn't talked to in years to predict her miscarriage. The woman hadn't told anyone she was (3 months) pregnant yet. She sort of laughed at her. Then called back two days later because she had lost the baby.

...

M now has an appointment, but only next month. I must admit I have a hard time thinking about anything else.

Groundhog vs. family garden: victory of the former by K.O.

2011-06-21T06:29:00.047-04:00

Rookie mistake number 1: thinking that we could garden while sharing the yard with a groundhog.

Because Julie couldn't help herself climbing in to munch on our delicious shoots as soon as they grew, and I got tired of replanting them, M bought a powder repellent and applied it everywhere. It didn't faze her.

So we built a two feet high chicken wire fence around the vegetable patch. Haha, we thought, we outsmarted her!

The next day I saw her walking around the patch, confused that her all-you-can-eat-buffet was suddenly unavailable to her. She then left pitifully and went on to eat on one of our ornamental grass perennials, thus revealing to me why it simply wasn't growing this year.

The day after that she somehow got in, ate all the shoots again, made a terrible mess, then wasn't able to get out. So she dug and dug and made a huge hole in one corner. She eventually found her way out, probably thinking that this was no big deal and no one was going to notice.

So after that of course I realized that I wouldn't be able to plant again until she was gone. My father who has had this problem before has a trap/cage at his house, which I can borrow when I'm going with the kids next week. We'll then have a few days to try and entice her with an apple, and release her in a nearby park. Then we're leaving for LA so I won't be able to tend to the garden for two weeks, and then it will definitely be too late to plant.

So despite our excitement at the amazing, brand new vegetable patch, we won't do much more growing than we did in previous years. She doesn't like tomatoes (that I already knew because she never touched them before), so these are thriving, actually having grown so much they are already completely cramped, and already bearing small, unripe fruit. The cucumbers seem to be doing fine, as are the peppers. The groundhog left the onions and the radishes alone, because these taste too strong and she's a picky vegetarian at that. I'm however filled with a feeling of impeding doom whenever I look at them now.

Recent scenes from a marriage

2011-06-20T05:59:00.004-04:00

First scene, interior, nighttime, bedroom. The room is dark except for the glare of an ipad, which the woman is reading from in bed. A man arrives and undoes the covers on his side, looking tired, lying down as well. Just as his head hits the pillow, he jumps out with surprise and horror. He turns on the light and returns to bed, where he finds a metallic toy robot at his place, all perfectly tucked in.

The man, looking at the woman: ?????

The woman: Yeah, right, I forgot. Victor the Robot needed to take a nap.
___________________

Second scene, interior, nighttime, living room. The same couple is there, him working at the computer, her reading the latest issue of National Geographic. The following conversation occurs without them looking at each other.

The woman, thinking out loud: What? The Inca were still flourishing around 1500?

The man: Yes. What's your point?

The woman: Nothing, I just thought that this civilization peeked earlier.

The man: Well, they were still thriving until the Europeans arrived.

The woman, smiling: These damn Europeans. They really sc*ewed up everything didn't they?

The man: Don't say that... If they hadn't come to the New World, we...

The woman, still smiling, interrupting him: ...we wouldn't live in a place that was totally inhospitable to begin with and where all there is are either terribly harsh winters that can literally kill you or terribly humid summers when you are literally eaten by mosquitoes?

The man: Point taken.

____________________

Third scene, exterior, day, besides a car. The (slender) woman is trying to help a little boy get into his car seat, but space is very limited around them. The man is on the other side, buckling a baby girl.

The woman: Good thing you're not very big ("pas très gros", which in French means both big and fat)...

The boy, innocently: Oh yes! Good thing I'm not as big/fat as you are because then I could never get in!

The man smiles demoniacally, aware that he's now going to have a new, very fruitful pool of wisecracks at his disposition.

The woman: Don't you even think about it, you smart*ss.

The man, grinning: Well you know what they say... Better a smart*ss than a fat one!

Just another mother of two

2011-06-16T06:27:00.195-04:00

You guys, thanks for your comments about me doing great as a mom. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm a good mom. I really care, which I hope all mothers do. I think I am thoughtful, and loving, and such. But I am not *always* doing great. Try as I might, I don't always have my sh*t together.

I know it's not really possible to be perfect, but since last year I feel that my good mom quotient only keeps on getting down. Something began changing when I got pregnant, and I find myself in a place of unbalance, or dissatisfaction towards my own attitude a lot more than I used to. This makes me unbelievably sad.

I started relying on the TV too much, despite seeing how not good it is for LP, and for the whole family bonding/communicating as well. Yet, I've been so unable to get out of a perpetual sleep deprivation state that now that he's old enough to do so, we let him get up earlier in the morning and watch it alone while we (and especially I), try to sleep in just a little bit more in the next room. Sometimes, I just don't have the energy to do a fun little activity with him, and it's just so much easier to let him watch his programs.

I've become impatient. I used to be a fairly patient person, even towards his extreme fussiness as a baby, or his terrible-twos. That's the thing: at that age, you cannot get mad at them. They are so pure and innocent... Even the slight discipline you have to do then seems almost fun. But since last summer (starting during out trip to Italy), which might or might not be related to the arrival of his little sister, something has been different. We have good phases and phases worse than I could ever imagine. Some days are only about whining, crying, disciplining, bouncing off the walls, shouting (his), him being bored and unhappy and defiant. I yell at him sometimes, despite promising myself I'd never do that, despite knowing how wrong and useless it is. I lose it sometimes, in the heat of the moment, when I'm especially tired and we're having a bad day and I just cannot take it anymore -repeating the same thing over and over and over again while he keeps on playing deaf, refusing to do what I ask of him, negotiating everything, constantly doing things he very well knows he's not allowed to, constantly interrupting our conversations to ask the same thing we both said no to, whining, throwing himself on the floor because it's the sixth time I have asked him to eat his breakfast instead of watching TV and I turn it off.

I get completely exasperated, which is incredibly sad. I hate disciplining him and would love if I never had to, but I feel that not giving him clear boundaries when he's acting out and does something wrong would be the worst thing that could happen to all of us in the long run. So I resent having to. I feel so bad that we don't have as much quality, fun time together as we used to, especially since you know, he sees me all lovey-dovey with his sister all the time -again, how could I not be towards my baby? Despite being much stronger and completely unconditional, your relationship with each of your children has a lot in common with the one you have with your spouse. And babydom is that phase at the beginning when everything is rosy, you never argue, you don't see any of the other person's flaws, nothing has clouded your intact rapport yet, and you (mistakenly) believe that it will always remain that way.

I also don't know what happened, but without even realizing it I have somehow lost this special connection I had with him, and I find this devastating. Sometimes he asks me to do something for him and I tell him I'll do it right this minute, then get distracted by something else that needs to be taken care of, and completely forget. Way to show him how much I care. Sometimes, I'm with the baby, who still needs a lot of time to be nursed/changed/fed, and after a while I suddenly realize that I haven't heard LP in like half and hour, and I have no idea where he is and what he's been doing (usually playing quietly or "reading", my sweet boy). And worst of the worst, while I wake up at night at the slightest sound F makes, sometimes M tells me in the morning that he got up to see LP, who had awoken and was calling for me but I didn't hear him. He needed me, and I didn't even wake up.

Whenever I keep him home during the week (once or twice, depending on what we do), I also often get completely overwhelmed. How bad is that? My mother was home all the time with us three, my maternal grandmother had five, my paternal grandmother had twelve. I can't even really deal with my two, despite my first being old enough for relative autonomy and a certain reasoning. And they're not fully interacting/getting on each other's nerves yet! Not to mention that I'm still on mat leave, at home full-time.

It's not always so bad, I obviously adore him and also think he's smart and funny and even adorable but it's not always really great, either. For some women, motherhood seems to be so natural. They would be perfectly at ease with 5 or 6 kids, and everything would run smoothly. It's just... so not the case for me. Often at night I vow to be more patient, to take everything with a grain of salt, to become a better, more understanding mom. I cry a bit and try to work through my guilt. It works somewhat, but in the end this new life is always a bit of a roller-coaster ride. And frankly, I'm not the mother I really wanted to be. I strive for better than that.

Do you remember back when I was so hesitant to have a second child, because I simply couldn't imagine how it would be possible to give them both enough attention, how I feared that I simply couldn't do it? It really pains me to say, but in hindsight, I was right. Every day (usually several times a day), one of them cries and needs me but I can't take care of them then, because I'm busy with the other one, or, even worse, doing something else entirely (cooking, household chores, the 15-20 minutes I need each day to get ready). Is that a bad thing? I guess it depends on the point of view. My own heart sinks every time, but my friend G who also has a baby the same age as F and a 5 year-old girl, thinks it is salutary for her daughter, whom she believes was "too overbearing" and in need of learning how to share and get out of the spotlight. Does this means they will not turn out fine? Probably not. But I still feel for them, for LP especially who gained a little sister he adores but also, let's not be coy with words here, has lost his place by us (can you tell I was a first born?).

In the end, these times at night when I ponder how I could do better, I always have the same image in my head. F's birth, while being an incredibly joyous occasion, will always remain a little tinged with sadness for me. Because while I was holding my tiny daughter in my arms, I remembered a solemn promise I had made nearly four years earlier in that same hospital, just one room down the hall. A promise to my newborn son that I would always do EVERYTHING possible for him, that I would ALWAYS go the extra mile and become the best person I could ever be for him, that I always be there for him, that I would love him to the moon and beyond, and never forget how to show that love.

And I did not hold on to that promise.

Going back to...

2011-06-15T06:06:00.119-04:00

Well, big changes are coming for my friend Julie the LA cupcake lady and her family. They are leaving California, and moving to Denver at the end of the summer.

And:

1-We really miss California, and our week there in March felt more like a teaser than anything else.

2-M still has two weeks of paternity leave left, which he is not only encouraged to take, but which the company he works for will compensate to near his full salary.

3-We've decided that he would take them during the first two weeks of July, since we like taking our annual vacation on the early side. The two last weeks of July is when most people are on holiday, and everything is more crowded and expensive. Then August is when the weather, our garden, pool, etc., are at their peak, so we like to be home then and take it easy.

4-Up until a few days ago (i.e. less than three weeks ahead), we still had no idea of where of where we wanted to go or what we wanted to do. Several plans and ideas fell through, we had a hard time agreeing on a destination, we first wanted to do a road trip but the truth is F is not the greatest car rider so it might be a little bit of a pain for everyone at this point... We didn't want to spend too much (hence Europe was out much to M's dismay), since we've already taken a trip this year and I'm on a mat leave salary. Etc., etc.

So you're seeing me coming, right? We're going back to Cali (I do think so :-) ). Learning that our friends wouldn't be there anymore made us sad, sadder than we expected. Since they've been living there we've sort of taken for granted that we had a pied-a-terre in SoCal, and it's always been our little paradise. It's hard for me to describe how I feel when I wake up there the first morning, but over there I'm more relaxed that I've probably ever been, it's like I've arrived home and I've arrived in heaven all at once. It must be the sun, people. The sun, and the lushness, and the especially wonderful scented air. Every time, it reminds me with incredible clarity that I really wasn't made to live in a northern climate.

It'll be my fifth time there, and even though it doesn't mean that we'll never go back, we know that from now on it'll always be more complicated and costly. So we decided to be a little crazy and head back, even if it means it's the second-time-in-four-month-with-two-kids-including-a-baby. It seems like it's a big trip, but actually it's probably less complicated for us than going to say, the nearby Maritimes by car (like I wanted to do) and also less expensive. The airfare is not cheap, but along with the rental car it's really the bulk of our expenses (staying with friends, few restaurant meals, etc). We have short stopovers in Dallas on the way there and Chicago on the way back, so no flight will be longer than four hours, which is a great duration for the kiddos. And while there it will be easier to make some food for F instead of relying solely on jars, properly wash/sterilize her utensils and bottles, do laundry, keep some kind of a predictable routine, etc.

We also plan to spend a few days in San Francisco, where we're supposed to meet two favorite blog friends: Meg and Lisa.

We're leaving at dawn on the 4th of July, which means we'll step out in LA early enough to take part in our friends' Independence Day celebration (I think we're going to see some fireworks at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena). I'm really excited, M is super happy and is making lists, LP can hardly contain himself (he REALLY misses his two little friends), and F is, well, usually in a good mood anyway.

My sister is due to give birth to her second child, my first niece, somewhere between the end of this month and mid-July. Fingers crossed that the baby is not late!

With pictures even

2011-06-14T11:26:00.024-04:00

This is funny. A post called What it is like to (not) sleep at night. These illustrations are the best!

I must say that even though 1-F doesn't primarily sleep with us (but usually joins us in the bed early morning), 2-I have never nursed for more than 10 minutes, 3-M does his fair share of getting up during the night as well, and 4-we don't have cats, strangely a lot of this rings true. (Thanks to Jamie who tweeted it).

(Pictures from aforementioned post)

My grandma and her babies

2011-06-13T05:53:00.006-04:00

I really love my grandmother. Each time I see her, I make sure to ask as many questions as possible to let her talk about her childhood, her family, how things were when she was young. I want to remember everything. The last time, she pointed out that I was the only person to ever do that with her. I just feel so lucky she's still around.

She met my grandfather at 17. He was a bit of a bad boy, which I'm sure is what made her fall for him. She wanted to be a nurse when she met him, had studied longer than most women at the time. She still has a sister she's really close with, and the contrast between my grandma and her is striking. Her sister left school early, didn't really care about studying, making a difference, seeing the world. You wouldn't guess that the two women were raised together by the same parents. My grandma's language level is more refined and articulate, her manners are more polished, her conversation is much deeper. I'm not saying this to be a snob or anything. But it's fascinating to me, to try and figure out how can such a difference could have happened. I think most women of that generation in Quebec were like my great-aunt -this is how they were raised, this is what was expected from them. Not much education, not much awareness of anything that was going on in the world. My grandmother's parents were modest, not the type of people that would come up with this highly original concept of putting lots of hope into a girl. Yet, here is my grandmother, subtly unlike other women her age, self-made into a woman of thought and culture.

When they first met, my grandpa sort of always changed his mind and gave her the cold shoulder and made her crazy. At one point she had enough and decided to become a nun. It might seem highly strange to us now, but at the time, especially in a rural, isolated region, if a woman wanted to devote herself to pursuing studies and readings, to travel, to have more of an introspective life, and especially to escape the rigorous life of a poor housewife with 12 children, this was pretty much the only way.

After she joined the order, he would come see her every day and "cry, cry, cry." So she got out and they got married.

The second month, she got pregnant. "How did you know you were pregnant, then, without tests and such?", I asked. "We just knew," she replied, kind of mockingly. Her first daughter was born a month ahead, as ended up being her four subsequent ones. She told me everyone around them "counted". "Counted what?", I asked rather stupidly. Turns out they were counting the months between your wedding and the birth of your first child, in order to make sure you did not have sex out-of-wedlock. So since she did not get pregnant during the first month, she was still sheltered from public shame, even with a premature baby.

She had spent all of her pregnancy making her layette -literally. She had sewn tiny night gowns, knitted booties, made little hats and blankets and a big pile of cotton diapers. After she told me this it started making more sense to me, that babies used to be considered genderless and were not dressed in a specific color according to their sex. Since there was no way of knowing what you were having and since they were putting all this effort into making the baby's clothing, they could not afford to double their work. All of the babies you would end up having also needed to wear the same things.

After giving birth, at 19, she wasn't even given the option to breastfeed. Did she want to? She's not sure. No one did at the time. They weren't even talking about it, it was a given. She thinks it was only because the nurses "didn't want to bother showing the new mothers, it would have been too much work".

Her baby got cow's milk from birth. She wouldn't tolerate it and would have terrible digestive problems. She was really fussy and my grandmother still remembers this period very nervously. Her daughter, my aunt, didn't walk before 17 months. People kept telling her she was doing everything wrong as a mother. She was young and inexperienced and "way too stressed," she says. She got pregnant again and had my mother, the tomboy and troublemaker, two years later. Then she didn't want any more kids.

"How could you not get pregnant without contraceptives?," I dared asking. Again without expressively telling me she made me feel a little naive. She used the calendar method. "And people talked about these things?" Well, she said, her mother didn't, but her sisters-in-law did. They would give each other tips and such, when they were among women, not highly publicly, but not as in a shameful secret, either. And maybe this wasn't full-proof for all women, but it worked for her, because after my mom she did not get pregnant again for over four years.

And what made her change her mind, since she ended up having three more daughters after that? Again, nosy people around them. Starting from when her firstborn was six months old, they kept asking: "Well, what are you waiting for to get pregnant again?" The local priest, too, wasn't happy at all about her only having two kids.

"It's probably very hard for you to imagine how things were back then, since you grew up with so many possibilities and opportunities. You studied for a long time, you traveled, you met several different men, you built your own career, you only had children when you decided it was time..." She wasn't at all bitter, more like proud and tender. "But it was a very tough time for us women. People have this idyllic view of the fifties, of a more traditional time when women stayed at home. You shouldn't always believe them. I, and all the women around me were so unhappy... We couldn't decide anything. We couldn't have an opinion. We couldn't have any of our own money; we didn't even have an own name. Everyone spied on everyone else's and bickered. You were considered lucky if your husband did not slap you for talking when it was not appropriate, when he did not get too drunk too often". I was already aware of this quite harsh reality of the working class of the time, but I couldn't help wincing.

I asked:"Given a choice, would you have worked?" "Well not at the beginning, when the kids were young. I mean, I had the three last ones within three years. Three little ones with bottles and diapers at the same time. But after that, yes. Pursuing your own thing is a wonderful thing. Being independent is a wonderful thing. Even if you hope you will never have to, knowing that you could leave your husband and support yourself and your family is supremely important. It might seem like it's crazy, planning for the worst like that, but believe me it's not, it's just a matter of dignity and survival."

She last added: "But I don't want you to feel bad about working even when your children are young. In many ways kids today are much more nurtured that they used to be, and no one benefits from a mother who sacrificed herself. I think you're doing great. I know your kids are the most important thing to you, but I also know that you understood how it is possible to care for them AND also do something else."

I don't think I'm always doing that great. I don't think there is one perfect solution. But I can tell you this: these words were probably the more comforting I've heard in a long time.

The annual LP questionnaire

2011-06-10T06:05:00.018-04:00

LP is now 4 years and 4 months old. Let's see how much he has changed (or not) compared to last year...
___________

Favorite clothes? This t-shirt (he means the one he has on, heather gray with a vintage motorcycle on it, from Gap).

Favorite movie? Cars! (Some things never change. I'm a little surprised though, he hasn't watched it in a looooong time. But then the sequel is coming).

Favorite car? Racing BMWs. (Only European cars. Must be daddy's influence).

Favorite TV show? À faire en Italie! (Said very enthusiastically. It's a (French) Travel channel show featuring a guy visiting Italy and checking things off an imaginary list -after each segment he says for instance "Eating proscuitto at an osteria in Parma: done!" LP LOVES this show and wants to watch it every day. He keeps checking things off the list of his life, too, and when he plays Legos, he's building "the Asinelli tower", when he plays with his little sister, he tells us that "she's going shopping at Prada", when he's pretend cooking he's "making antipasti at the mozzarella bar in Rome", etc.)

Favorite sport? Bicycle and Golf. (He's riding a big boy bike now. With training wheels).

Favorite toy? My little gray car and my Hot Wheels tracks. (Other current faves: train tracks, monster trucks. He also has a playmat with the image of a town on it, and he creates all kinds of scenarios with it: putting little animal figurines in a park so it becomes "the zoo," placing toy boats into "the lake", firetrucks by a nondescript building which becomes "the station," buses and trailers in a wide load parking (he recognized the letters for BUS on an actual bus stop in our street and pointed out that it was the same as on his mat), and "our cars" by "our house" (in this scenario he always drives a Lamborghini while I drive an old, boring Toyota or something)).

Favorite book? Ni Hao Kai-lan (the book is from a TV show we watch with a little cartoon girl teaching kids a bit of Mandarin Chinese. For some reason he loves everything Chinese).

Favorite kind of food? Chinese, especially dumplings (didn't I tell you so?)

Favorite meal? In'n'Out burgers! (Well excuse me, mister I've-been-to-California-twice-even-though-I'm-only-4...)

Favorite activity? Crafting. (I was certain he would say swimming in the pool, or his tennis lessons, or going to the library. He does like crafting, but he's kind of messy and not very focused).

Favorite fruit? Mango.

Favorite vegetable? Mangetout peas.

Favorite dessert? Chocolate ice cream.

Favorite color? Aqua. You know, that's a blend of blue and green, mommy.

Favorite song? (Singing...) "Oh-oh, I wann so moe-o, oh-oh, I wann som mo-oe..." (Actually Animal by Neon Trees.)

Favorite city? LA (yes he said it like that. I'm kind of sad it's not NY anymore. But it'll come back).

Favorite country? Well, Italy, of course!

What do you want to be when you grow up? A race car driver. (I didn't ask this question last year but yeah, it was the same.

Checking in

2011-06-09T06:46:00.022-04:00

Hey! I didn't think that anyone would notice if I didn't post for a couple of days, but when I started receiving emails asking if everything was OK I realized that I shouldn't refrain from my usual ways too much... And, that some people cared about me. Which felt awesome.

I'm still here, just... busy with life. I got two sizable freelancing gigs with the same (tight) deadline, and suddenly I didn't have a minute to write for fun anymore. I used to be able to plan for such things by always having a few scheduled posts ready, but I've been struggling to be able to do that lately. The two kids are a lot of work... Still not sleeping much. I'm trying... But mostly feeling quite scattered and boring these days. I always thought that the self-discipline of writing a little each day was what kept me together in the end... And I guess I was right. It's a catch-22.

Hoping to be back soon. Thanks for still being here.