milk factory blog

Mental Gymnastics

Yesterday, as Ella and I were bouncing in the inflatable castle at the False Creek Community Centre, I realized that I have not taken part in any form of exercise (besides walking to the market or to the library) for MONTHS now.

I know that chasing after a 2-year-old is a workout in itself, but I doubt that it's enough to burn off the chocolate souffle that I had for dessert last night.

So what are the options? Yoga is too expensive, running is too painful, biking is too dangerous, and swimming is just too darn wet!

These days, I'm not feeling motivated to do much except think of a hundred different ways to avoid getting off the sofa.

Guilt Schmilt!

I think someone needs to look a little deeper into his guilt pocket!

If go-Daddy-O truly felt guilty about the excessive amounts of sleep he got, don't you think he could offer up a bit more than a DONUT?!

But then again, it is a Lee's donut...and they are awfully tasty!

Back to the point of my comment-turned-blog...

A truly guilty person should foresee that pointing out (in great detail, I might add) just how well his happy little energizer baby sleeps (and eats) is like waving an ice cream cone in front of a child and then dropping it into a mud puddle.

How about telling us an up-all-night-slept-on-the-couch-so-my-child-could-stay-upright-while-sleeping story. Or maybe, just once, tell us that his little angel, at 16 months of age, already has a temper equivalent to that of a two year old. The odd tale of a few missed meals because she was so miserable with her new teeth coming in wouldn't hurt either.

Does he really think that one blog about the guilt he feels makes up for the fact that his child still gets 4 to 6 hours more sleep than some others? And that he benefits directly from this and other parents don't?

I realize that I will have provoked a recanting of the donut offer but given the fact that I was typing this long into this early morning, after a long day at work and after an even longer previous evening (and forgot to publish it until just now), I believe go-Daddy-O will still have the heart to share more of his donuts and "just like the other sleep deprived parents" stories.

The 11th Hour

This week has been busy. I am completely exhausted. And yet, I look around and feel as though I've accomplished very little.

No, wait. I did just finish preparing our taxes. But then again, I wasn't able to transmit them because we moved and didn't report our address change to the CCRA. Luckily, neither one of us owe anything so no need to rush for the midnight deadline. But I guess that means I'm back to accomplishing nothing.

On one hand I find it a little disappointing that my refund is $2.60 and on the other, I'm happy that I've had my money all year along, rather than the government. Still, there's something uplifting about receiving that refund cheque in the spring...

Where I'm Not

Gas Wars

These gas wars are out of control!

I must have passed 4 gas stations selling at 80.9 on my way home today. Given that Superstore is 5 minutes from my house, I figured I would just head straight there. You usually get the lowest price and the bonus coupon of 3.5 cents per litre for groceries. Of course, Oliver blew a gasket a block before we got there...so much for "cheap" gas today.

As luck would have it, Ollie needed a couple of food items for the week so off to Superstore I went. Superstore is about the only place that almost hides their gas prices so all I could see was the Chevron across the street at 92.9! Outrageous! Imagine my surprise to find Superstore lagging behind at 80.9 and NO LINE-UP! Listen to me, getting excited about gas at 80.9! I can't even remember the last time it was below 70.

So, if gas prices get you all riled up, check out GasTips.com to find the lowest prices in Greater Vancouver. I also heard a tip on the radio today - when gas prices skyrocket, buying only 5 or 10 dollars when you need to forces the stations to lower the price to keep sales up.

Everybody's Working On the Weekend

From the English-to-American Dictionary

holiday n. A holiday for a person in the UK is any time taken off work. For Americans, a vacation is time taken off specifically for yourself and a holiday is time that everyone gets off and they're paid for (Christmas, New Year, Easter, etc.).

I think the same definition of "holiday" applies to Canadians. In Vancouver, however, holidays (where everybody gets time off) seem to be a thing of the past for many, especially those in the retail industry. Many years ago, when I was going to school and working part-time at Save-On-Foods, we used to get Christmas, Boxing Day, and New Year's Day off. Last year, I heard some employees at Urban Fare--an affiliated grocery store--griping about the fact that they had to work every day except for Christmas.

Signs around here advertise that Granville Island is open 7 days a week this week. What are the Easter hours? 9am-6pm, Good Friday, Easter Sunday, Easter Monday...which are the same nine hours that the market is normally opened for. Sorry, no time off for you!

A co-worker who just came back from business in Paris was disgusted by how little our French and British colleagues had to work. While we get 3 weeks off per year for vacation, they get 5 weeks off. In addition, France has legislated a 35-hour working week. In our company, French employees can accrue up to 13 extra vacation days, which means that thay can potentially take 7 weeks off. Apparently, nobody in the Vancouver office dares to schedule a meeting in the summer with a French employee because chances are that he or she will be gone for the entire month of July or August, visiting family en Provence or hiking in the Swiss Alps.

Personally, I think that the more time off, the better. How about a 4-day working week? I can only dream...

The Ants Go Marchin'

I haven't actually seen the ants go marchin' three-by-three through the kitchen yet, but I'm sure we're not far off.

Tomi and I have lived most of our ten years together in Vancouver highrise condos, so insects, spiders, and ants have never really been a problem. Well, welcome to ground-level living. It never really occured to me that there might be a downside to being surrounded by such beautiful green / garden space. Of course, now we know different.

We have ants. Aplenty.

And not your regular little brown or red ants that are easily squashable. These are BIG ass African Army ants. I'm sure of it.

Big. Mean. And ugly. And they scoff at squashing.

Ok, they're more likely to be carpenter ants, but they're pretty scary nonetheless. If you are Tomi, anyway.

Tomi has a distinct aversion to creepy crawlers, in general. Spiders, in particular, elicit shrieks even in a middle-of-the-night trip to the washroom.

To her credit, Tomi is actually adapting to our new multi-legged adversary. She has even murdered a few herself.

As for Ella? At 14+ months, she's just very curious as always. Our first joint encounter sums it up. She saw an animal. It was big and juicy-looking. Well, her inner carnivore kicked in and she tried to snack on the not-so little guy.

I wonder if it's just coincidence that since that episode, the ants have been kind of scarce. I purposely let that one ant (Ella's almost-snack) crawl away to freedom because I remembered reading somewhere that ants report back on danger to their colony.

I can just imagine the terrified ant's report to the ant general:

<begin ant-speak here>

"I failed in my mission, Sir. But it wasn't my fault. There was this MASSIVE, drooly, wobbly giant chasing after me. I barely escaped with my life. Going back there would be a suicide mission."

Well, we can only hope.

Eggstravagant

As if there isn't enough temptation at Easter time...

I was in Urban Fare this morning and saw a 3 foot tall Easter egg on display. What child on this earth needs a 3 foot tall chocolate Easter egg?!

More importantly, what adult is willing to pay $250 for a chocolate Easter egg?!

My Head Is...

empty, vacant, blank, void, vacuous, bare, barren...

These adjectives mean without contents that could or should be present.

Empty applies to what is wholly lacking contents or substance: an empty room; empty promises.

Vacant refers to what is without an occupant or incumbent, or to what is without intelligence or thought: a vacant auditorium; a vacant stare.

Blank stresses the absence of something, especially on a surface, that would convey meaning or content: blank pages.

Void applies to what is free from or completely destitute of discernible content: gibberish void of all meaning.

Vacuous describes what is as devoid of substance as a vacuum is: led a vacuous life.

Something that is bare lacks surface covering (a bare head) or detail (the bare facts); the word also denotes the condition of being stripped of contents or furnishings: a bare closet.

Barren literally and figuratively stresses lack of productivity: barren land; writing barren of insight.

Source: bartelby.com

Daddy Demands

My demands aren't extreme.

I want BIGGER BUTTONS on Ella's clothing! Surely I'm not the only one having problems with this. Isn't it challenging enough to corner the little sprite long enough to whip a sweater and coat on? No. The buttons have to be microscopic. Little teeny tiny microscopic hearts to be exact. VERY cute. Very VERY impractical.

And no it's not just that I have fat fingers. Well, ok, my fingers are fat....but it's the damned buttons I tell ya!

Don't even get me started on the whole buttons being on the wrong side for girls' clothing business!?!

Here endeth the rant.