Good-bye January

The truth is that I've spent the month being a bit of a whiner. Feeling disinterested and disconnected. Feeling frozen. Waiting for time to tick. Complaining about the gray. These are the sad and pathetic ways that I've been spending this month. I'm not proud but at least I'm honest.

Then we got this little gift - this was the view from our street. No Photoshop, not even one little tweak...this is the authentic and glorious view from our driveway last night. And I did one of the things I love to do. I grabbed my camera and clicked way too many pictures. I think our neighbours are used to seeing me out on our cul-de-sac snapping away because they don't even look twice. I am that weird lady on the street who stays home with her kids and takes pictures of everything from scarlet sunsets to bumblebees landing on lavendar stalks.

Somehow picking up my camera and rushing out on the driveway to stand there like a tourist in my own yard reminded me about a little saying: "Only boring people get bored" (Ruth Burke). It's the kind of saying that passes out of your mother's mouth and crawls right under your teenage skin and makes your middle finger twitch. But there is a lot of truth in its simplicity. I have really been boring myself. Which is a shame because usually I am among my favourite company. So this flaming sky sparked a little fire under my butt. It was time for me to do something. I made some plans. Now I have a few irons in the fire so to speak. Some more home improvement, I dug out my sewing projects, I've cleaned out a few cluttered corners, started running again, have some ideas for some messy art projects with the kids, planned some trips, and I've made some big decisions about work.

To say that things are starting to fall into place sounds a bit passive. I think I could have pissed and moaned for awhile longer but I was starting to make myself uncomfortable. I had to snap out of it and take action and put some things in place (starting with myself). So now I will bid January a hasty farewell. February holds the promise of a winter trip to Edmonton at the top of the month's to do list. Can't wait for that!

Four

The pizza is eaten and the cake is gone but we still have our decorations up and I feel like we are still celebrating. I am loving "four" right now. R has turned the corner and really is a delight to be around. It is almost like she was born to be four! I had some time this afternoon so we went for tea and cupcakes and had a little conversation. We talked about the kinds of pictures we could paint on our fingernails if we stopped chewing them. We talked about Disneyland and wondered why all princesses always know an evil witch. Then we sat quietly for a bit licking the pink frosting off of the chocolate cupcakes. Right then, I realized that this little girl is on the top of my list for people to spend the afternoon with. Lucky for me that we have a lot more of these afternoons in our future!

Blue

Blue is really such a general word. It narrows the colour spectrum down slightly but there are still so many shades of blue. Then it has its multitude of other meanings. Sadness. Sorrow. Blue can convey so much. That is probably why it took me so long to choose a paint colour. My friends and family can vouch that I had various shades of tiny blue paint chips taped to the walls for many, many months. I didn't want it to be rainy, or gloomy. I wanted an uplifting blue. So finally I just took the plunge and had them shake me up a can of the bluest paint I could get. Not a grey-blue, or a green-blue. I didn't want a peacock blue or a deep blue. So I ended up with this particular shade of blue which I am quite satisfied with. It may be a tad more powdery than I had hoped for but overall I am pleased.

RKA slapped it on the wall for me. And by slapped it on the wall I mean painstakingly filled, sanded, washed and prepped the walls and then carefully edged and rolled. He did a meticulous job and it looks flawless. (See that's what you write when you have future painting projects for your industrious mate). I know he couldn't care less about the colour of our walls but he agreed to paint it because he knew it would make me happy. That's dedication.

Now on to the topic of wallpaper. I am going to wallpaper an accent wall on the wall behind the couch. I happened to find the most amazing wallpaper. I walked into my favourite paint store, saw the shelves of wallpaper sample books and chose one that was labelled "modern". I flipped it open and landed on this. It is modern yet classic. Loud yet elegant.

Need I say more. The perfect paper. Sometimes everything just falls into place. So there you have it. Happy blue.

Giddy Up!

At the birthday girl's request we hit the stables for her fourth birthday celebration. R is only four but she alread has great ideas! The kids took turns riding some adorable little ponies around the riding ring.

The place had rustic charm...


But it was definitely a bona fide stable...


Our birthday girl was quietly proud to be riding a pony...


...and I am very proud of her for what a super little girl she is becoming. She really is a lovely little person. Beyond her brains and beauty, she is just so sweet and thoughtful. It amazes me how much she has grown since her last birthday and I know I will feel the same way again come next January 22nd. What a cool thing to watch your baby grow!

Legacy

We have a naming tradition in our family that goes back five generations. We are all "Jean"...in fact, we even included our cat. As a kid I was not a big fan of my middle name. To be honest as far as phonetics go it is not my favourite name. It is just a bit plain and abrupt for my taste. But I have grown to love the name and especially what it represents. We now have a little club which is currently three generations strong (four if you count the cat). The youngest card carrying member is turning four in a couple of days. Her middle name was chosen before her first name. There was never any doubt about it and she is definitely living up to the name.


So what is a "Jean"? It is someone who likes everything to be "nice", someone who knows how to tell a good story, someone who chooses to laugh everyday, someone who loves family, someone who believes in girl power...oh and also, obviously someone who is cute!

The name is actually just an emblem for the strong legacy that has been passed down in our family. I think my "Grandma Jean" should be credited with the solidarity of the club. Her own mother died when she was eight years old yet she proved to be a powerful mother even without her own living example. Grandma's 4'11 frame was full of strength and grace. She has been gone for over eleven years but I can still feel her impact on my life. Every time I taste a cup of tea that is just exactly right, I think of my grandma. She had so many great stories and she was never afraid to tell them twice. She was the plucky protagonist in most of her stories and she endearingly always painted her children in a good light. Less fortunate characters of these tales often included old room-mates from nursing school and her brothers and sisters, while grandpa was often cast as the comedic relief.

I miss those stories which I can remember sitting on the couch as a teenager and thinking, "Oh, not that one again!" Now, I would jump at the chance to hear her spin a yarn again..or even to just hear her voice. She left a legacy with her stories. Family is important. Cherish friends. Laugh (hardest at yourself or your husband). So I sit and spin my own yarns in a new millenium and in a new medium. But the message is the same.

So you could say that I am proud to be a "Jean". Thankful for what my grandma taught us, for what my mom is still teaching me and for all that little R has already learnt. Funny story: when R was just two and we used to call her "R Jean" she heard it as "R Genius" and that is what she started calling herself!

Deja Vu

You know that familiar feeling? The one where you are sure that you've been in that exact same spot with the same people before...even saying the same things and doing the same things...right down to the lighting and the background noise. That's called wicked deja vu and for some reason I've had it so often lately. I heard once that you have deja vu when you are in exactly the place that you are meant to be. I'm not usually one to buy into superstitious notions but that one stuck with me. If it is true then I guess I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now.

Hanging butterflies in very pink bedrooms...

Watching my kids scamper to the front window just in time to marvel at the recycle truck...

Pulling pint-sized intrepid adventurers through the snow in order to keep a playdate...

Enjoying front row seats to late night puppet theater...

Loving these little characters...

And the big guy, too...

Superstitious or not, I realize that I truly am right where I need to be right now. (Sure, I would rather be in Hawaii sipping a mai tai.) Things are not perfect but even when things are rough there are still so many reasons to smile.

Grandpa

Grandpa had panache. He wore a fedora before it was cool. He insisted on Florsheim shoes. He had a zest for packing tape like you have never seen. He told us ghost stories at night when he was tucking us in. He sincerely believed in UFO's. He also believed in us. He was a devoted grandpa. I can remember him picking me up from school in his little white automatic four-door car to take me to my monthly orthodontist appointments. He used to drive with two feet so I was always a bit queasy by the time we arrived. Nonetheless, he was there every month wearing his Andy cap, waiting to drive me. He was a one of a kind guy whom I will miss dearly. The world isn't quite "exactly right" without him.

Beige.

My whole world is beige right now. I know it sounds like hyperbole but I did warn you with the period in the post's title that this might be slightly dramatic. It is enough that it is January and the glitz of Christmas has been packed into boxes...but couple that with the decidedly dreary week we have had and when I look around this house it feels like the whole world is beige.

Okay, maybe I need to take some ownership and admit that beige actually seems to be the colour I chose for this house...but that was inadvertent. RKA and I had sold our townhouse and after a deal fell through on a different house we were virtually homeless and scrambling to find a place to hang our hat. We came across a quaint little street with one house yet to be built. We weren't certain about the small lot and carried on looking for other places. But we kept coming back to this little street and that little lot. Now it's a little place we like to call home. We bought it "just in time to pick our colours" but we really only had one weekend to make all of our interior design decisions. I was feeling the pressure and had a 6 month old R in tow as we browsed rolls of carpet and compared tile samples. In the end I was not prepared to step out of the box. Maybe I didn't know my tastes well enough. But I also didn't know the house well enough. Where would our favourite corners be?

Three and a half years later and I am ready to bust out of the beige. I know myself better. I know this home. I brought B home from the hospital to this humble little house. I know where all the best hide and seek spots are. I've scrubbed every groove of the dark hardwood floor. This is where I am every night after 8pm when RKA and I take our respective places on the loveseat to watch TV while our little ones snooze in their cozy beds. Some days these walls seem so confining and other days there is no place I'd rather be. But I have decided that I would like to punch it up a notch and satisfy my craving for colour.

So against my better judgment I took the kids out shopping for paint today. Let's disregard the reality of trying to make lasting interior design decisions while accompanied by a toddler and preschooler and emphasize the positive. I did end up with one gallon of Seranata blue. I know that it sounds like a sad blue but it is actually quite happy. In fact, this one can of paint is making me way too happy. It is not even opened yet it is sitting at the front door and I keep going over to admire the little sample drip they put on the lid. Pathetic, I know. I haven't completely decided where this punch of colour is going to land, and I'm still talking RKA into wallpapering some accent walls but for now I'm content to sit in my beige house and glance over at my little bucket of hopeful blue paint.

Stay tuned for after photos!

Game on!

B could entertain himself for the entire day with his hockey stick and ball. He lives for hockey. Which is interesting because although RKA does play in a rec league he is taking this year off from hockey and we don't watch NHL at home. So where does he get this passion for the puck? Maybe it is his Grandpa's penchance for watching hockey on his big screen TV. Perhaps, it is his Uncle B's obsession with hockey pools. Or it could just be ingrained in his little Canadian spirit, but somehow, B seems to have inherited a great love for the sport.

R is less enthused by hockey. She would much rather be inside painting, crafting, and watching her beloved Treehouse. But she throws him a bone once in awhile and picks up her pink-taped hockey stick. B was thrilled last week when our friends from TO were visiting and he had some little buddies to shoot the puck with. Everything is always more fun with friends - especially with these road warriors!

The enthusiasm of these little ones is contagious...I find myself bundling up and heading out to the street to stick handle, shoot the puck and shout, "goal". There is also the intermittent shout, "car" and move the net when the neighbours come home followed by the classic, "game on!". Looking into my crystal ball I imagine I will soon find myself warming up the car at 6am to get to practice and sipping hot chocolate from a Thermos while cheering on my little hockey enthusiast...actually it even sounds fun! Game on!

A blank canvas.

A new year. A fresh start. 2011. One year ago we did not know exactly where we would be today. We had hopes and plans and we grew and we dreamed. We won some and we lost some. It was a big year. In 2010 R learned how to be three while B rocked out the tender age of one and learned how to operate on his own two feet. They learned how to lean on one another and how to annoy the crap out of each other!

We rang in the New Year last night with good friends and as I watched their little jammied kids running around our with our little jammied kids I realized how fast each year flies by. Three years ago these same kids were propped in front of the Christmas tree in their sleepers for a New Year's photo...now they are playing Wii and they have opinions! They actually didn't even sit still long enough for a photo this year!

The funny thing is that when kids grow and change it is so obvious. They look different and sound different. With adults change is not so apparent but trust me - I am different now than I was at the beginning of 2010. For many reasons. We've said goodbye to close friends who set out to chase their dreams across the country. We've made new friends. We've had great visits from long distance friends who are actually more like family. We've had loss. My grandma is no longer a phone call away for advice (baking and otherwise). RKA has a new job. Things have changed. We are the same but we are also different...constantly changing as old dreams are revised into new plans.

Truthfully, I am flip-flopping like a fish out of water. Not sure where I want 2011 to take me. But I do know that it is up for me to decide. To choose a path and stick with it. Or scrap it half way through and cut over to a whole new path. Who knows where this year will take our family. It is a blank canvas just waiting for some inspiration.