Hollywood may have celebrities but Onoway's got real stars

The feedback for my last two posts went a little something like this... my sister: "well I think California is good for you because your blog is much sunnier when you're there", David: "I'm a little depressed now", and my mom: "do you really hate snow that much??". So I apologize for the last posts that were somewhat depressing.

I have now been back visiting in Canada for about 2 weeks. We had a fantastic Christmas full of family and food. I have been reminded that there are many things that I love about Canada, even though it's cold (and it's not even cold right now! What's going on?!). So here are some of the things about Canada that I love, in no particular order.

Bumping into random people from your past: In the last two weeks I have bumped into the following: a friend who I haven't seen since junior high (I actually saw her at the L.A. airport and she's an actress in L.A.! Crazy!), a friend who I've known since grade 3 but have kind of lost touch with, my high school boyfriend, and a friend from my choir. These things just don't happen in L.A. (with the exception of the junior high friend but that was just wierd).

Grandparents & Aunties: Of course, we are thrilled to see our family because we love them and want to spend time with them but we also love the free babysitting that they provide. David and I took a quick trip down to Calgary while our girls stayed behind with Granny, Grumps, and Auntie Jeanettey. Calgary is not exactly an exotic location but we got to sleep in until... wait for it... 9:30am!! We then laid around and did nothing until 10:30 when we had to check out. It was heaven.

Hockey: While in Calgary we went to the Sweden vs. Switzerland World Juniors game. We got two tickets for $20 from a scalper and sat so high we were actually above the scoreboard. We thought about sneaking down to some empty seats lower down (just like old times) but decided that's OK when you're 20 but not when you're 32. The game was suprisingly fabulous! We chose teams to cheer for to make things exciting. I chose Sweden not because of their hockey prowess but because I love the Swedes with their leftie Socialist ways. Sweden turned out to be a far superior team but Switzerland somehow pulled it together and forced a shootout. Anyway, I forgot how much I love hockey. We don't watch it much anymore because we don't have TV but I have vowed to watch it more often. The game confirmed our already-held belief that hockey is soooo much better than football. Oh, and my favourite David quote from our Calgary trip was: "I think I saw one of the hockey players in our hotel lobby because he was wearing a suit and sounded half-retarded". Isn't that just so true? Where else do you see simple-minded teenagers wearing suits than at a Canadian hockey rink?

Kind people in traffic: My experience has been that, in general, people in L.A. are as nice as people in Canada. However, this is not the case in traffic. People become evil on the L.A. freeways. When we were driving back from Calgary there was a semi-truck flipped over in the ditch that had strewn sheets of OSB all over the road. Needless to say, this caused a bit of a traffic jam because one lane was completely closed. Our initial reaction what that we needed to get out of the lane immediately because we didn't want to get stuck. This was because in L.A. if you are in a lane that is ending you will NEVER get out of it. If people see that you need to get out of the lane they will speed up so that you can't. I don't know why people are so mean but it makes my blood boil. You have to pretty much take your life into your hands and just go for it or you will be in that lane for the rest of you your life. So, back to highway 2 between Red Deer and Edmonton. The civilized Canadians actually took turns letting people in with vigorous waving every time. It was so refreshing.

Chip readers for credit cards: They don't have these in the U.S. yet! Can you believe that? Welcome to the new millenium people!! They've had them in Europe for years. When I use my credit card in L.A. I actually have to sign the receipt! Crazy! On a similar note, it's nice having money that doesn't all look the same.

Taboganning: It might surprise you that this made the list given my last post. Well, while we were visiting David's parents we did a little taboganning. On our first run, Asha and I got snow in our faces, up our sleeves and down our boots. Asha started screaming and said it was the worst day ever and she was NEVER going sledding ever again. But guess what? Asha was begging someone to go down again with her 5 minutes later. And I willingly went again. Maybe taboganning is like childbirth. It kinda sucks while you're doing it yet eventually you want to do it again. I've heard that women have some sort of inherent amnesia that literally makes them forget the pain of labour so that they want to do it again. Maybe Canadians have a similar amnesia for snow.

Stars: It's not really fair to compare the visibility of stars in the middle of L.A. to an acreage outside of Onoway, Alberta but when I went outside to get something while staying at David's parents I was dazzled by the stars. There are about three layers of stars that I had completely forgotten about.

So, am I excited to go back to L.A. where it is supposed to be 25 degrees next week? Am I looking forward to going outside to play with Asha and Nia without 30 minutes to put on snowsuits, followed by 10 minutes of playing, followed by 30 minutes of removing snowsuits? Heck yeah! But will I miss our family and friends, the familiarity of home, and of course that lovely feeling of snow packed against the inside of my wrist? You betcha.

WWCD? (What Would Cupid Do?)

Since coming back to Canada for Christmas I have gotten some serious scoldings for not blogging more so here's a double wammy for you to make up for the rest of the month. Lucky you!

So Christmas is an interesting time of year, don't you think? I've always felt conflicted about Christmas for a few reasons. Firstly, I am not Christian so I've always felt like a bit of an imposter celebrating a holiday when I don't believe in the actual reason for it. I also am increasingly disgusted by consumerism and Christmas truly is consumerism at it's height. This year I have also realized that I kind of hate snow which feels terribly un-Canadian and un-Christmasy.

Of course, all of this is emphasized by the fact that I have a 4 and a half (not 4, don't you dare try to say she's 4) year old person asking me questions all the time. It's awfully hard to celebrate Christmas without mentioning Jesus and rightly so since he's the reason for the season and all that. He's in the middle of the nativity scene and he's mentioned once or twice in Christmas carols. It was only a matter of time before Asha asked who was this guy that everyone's making such a fuss about.

Here's what I believe. I don't think there's a God. I think Jesus was just a mortal human being but I think he had a wonderful message to share with the world. I think he was an amazing person who did wonderful things and if people could truly just live the message that he brought, the world would be a better place. I'm not sure if the whole Bethlehem/stable business happened but I think it's a lovely idea that he had such a humble birth and grew to be such an influential person. There are images of Christmas that I think are lovely.

So I tried to explain the above to Asha as tactfully as possible. I want her to know that some people think that there is a God that created everything and that Jesus was his son and had special powers. I want her to know that my beliefs are my own and other people believe otherwise.

Well she has really latched on to the whole Jesus thing. I think it might be because he's a cute baby in the nativity scene but I think it's also because she likes the idea of someone telling people that they should be nice to eachother. She seems to be undecided about whether or not Jesus was more than human. She also went through a period of getting Jesus and Cupid mixed up. She would say "I'm going to share my snack with Nia because Cupid said we should share". I didn't correct her because it was hilarious.

The flip side of Christmas is the whole present-giving aspect. I like the fact that people came from far and wide to bring Jesus gifts although what's a baby supposed to do with frankincense and what exactly is myrrh, other than a very difficult word to spell? I think Mary probably would have preferred a soother or diapers or, here's a thought, a crib for the baby instead of a feeding trough! I am a total sucker for the Little Drummer Boy and how he goes to see the baby but has nothing to give so he plays him a song.

But how do you tell your kids that Christmas isn't just about presents when the whole world is telling them otherwise? I know it makes me a total Scrooge but I really dislike the concept of writing a list to Santa and sitting on his lap and asking for stuff. No wonder kids are obsessed with opening their presents and are rude to Aunt Myrtle when she only gives them pajamas. We're teaching them that they're entitled to get whatever they want!

I enjoy giving and receiving presents and I especially love when I think of the perfect present for someone. I always have at least one person for whom I think of the best gift and I can't wait for them to open it. There's something about the inherent generosity of Christmas that I love but I think it's been lost in the craziness of the season.

I guess I must be doing something right though because when I asked Asha what she wanted for Christmas she said a toy car, nothing more. I was surprised but she hasn't changed her mind. We were at the grocery store and she said "That Mom! That's what I want for Christmas!" while pointing to a $1.00 Matchbox car. That's all she wanted. She also decided to make Nia a present which consisted of a card on which she wrote "Dear Nia. I hope. Asha." She got a bit distracted in the middle and forgot to write what she hoped for. It's the thought that counts, right?

So if you ask Asha what Christmas is about she says, "Jesus (she got the Cupid thing sorted out, much to my sagrine), being with family, and snow". She's knows better than to say "presents" for fear of my reaction. She has decided that anyone that she's sees during this visit is family because Christmas is about family. I kind of like that.

I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas

Overall Asha has adapted to our move very well but, just in case, when we first landed in L.A. I tried to make a point of telling Asha all of the great things about living in Calfornia. One of these things was the fact that it doesn't snow there which for me was somewhere around number 1 on my list of reasons to move there. Well when I told her that it doesn't snow in L.A. Asha started to cry. Big, fat, miserable tears. It had never occurred to me that for a 4 year old, snow was one of the best things ever. Her classmates were SO jealous that she got to go to Canada for Christmas and play in snow. Many of them have never seen snow and most of the ones who have went to the mountains outside of L.A. and searched for a patch of snow to touch.

One of the most common questions that I've been asked lately is if I miss the snow. Well, I hate to break it to you but I haven't missed the snow one tiny little bit. If I never saw another snowflake for the rest of my life I would be A-okay. I know that some people genuinely enjoy skiing and snowmobiling and all that but I am not one of those people. Sometimes I wonder if anyone actually does enjoy those activities or if they just fool themselves into liking them to justify living in this ridiculous climate! I've also wondered if anyone really truly likes wasabi or if they just pretend to. Seriously, it tastes like a combination of saltwater and toilet cleaner.

I think Canadians like to feel superior to the rest of the world because we're so tough and rugged. I recently saw a commercial for Tide laundry detergent that said something to that effect. Essentially, we Canadians are so tough for living in the cold and therefore should wash their laundry in Tide Cold Water detergent. I don't really see the logic... Anyway, I find myself doing it when I'm in L.A.. Whenever someone complains that it's cold I openly mock them and tell them that they don't know cold. I went to a kid's birthday party and it was probably about 10-15 degrees celsius outside which is very chilly for the folks down there. Everyone was huddled around a heat lamp while Asha and I wore T-shirts. I felt very superior and thick-skinned compared to those wimpy Californians.

But are we really hardier than them or are we just stupid? If we could skip the snow and have warm weather year-round would we really not choose to? We tend to think that the only options are the Edmonton 4-season climate and the Carribean tropical-year-round climate. People often say that they love Canada because of our distinct 4 seasons. Well I hate to break it to you but they also have 4 distinct seasons in L.A. They consist of: warm summer, temperate fall (complete with beautiful fall leaves!), somewhat rainy winter, and temperate spring. In my books, that beats 6 months of snow any day! We also tend to think that the only options are a white Christmas and a brown Christmas. Well how about a green Christmas, people?! In L.A. everyone stops watering their lawns in December because it's humid enough to keep your lawn green! Yes, green! People have to put cardboard cutouts of snowmen and snowflakes on their lawn for Christmas decorations (and yes, I openly mock them because they don't know what snow is REALLY like).

So, all of that said, we are now in Canada. One of the first things Asha wanted to do was put on her snowpants and roll around in the snow. We spent a lovely hour shoveling the driveway which was actually pretty fun and Asha was quite helpful, much to my surprise. I like shoveling snow but probably because I never do it. We popped up to Whitecourt for a quick visit and it had recently snowed so there was a layer of glittering snow on all the spruce trees. The sun was setting over Whitecourt "mountain" and I had to confess, out loud to myself that it was really, really beautiful. A Whitecourt sunset beats a the sun setting over the beach anyday.

I also must confess that it feels much more Christmas-y here. When I ask Asha what Christmas is about (in the hope that she won't say 'presents') she says it's about snow. I think she might think that we had to leave California for Christmas because it doesn't actually happen there because there's no snow. She must be very sad for her friends.

So I guess my love/hate relationship with snow continues. It's probably about 10% love and 90% hate. But I guess it's in my soul for life. Maybe one day I'll long for a good snow day so I can go tabogganing or something. Although I've always though tabogganing was the craziest winter sport of all. I imagine aliens coming down and watching it. I think they would say something to this effect: "So you run up the hill, then slide down it while snow flies into your face and goes up your mittens and down your boots until you run into something. Then you run back up again to do it all over again. Over and over and over. Let's go find some intelligent lifeforms". Building snowmen is genuinely fun but there isn't enough snow this year and it's not sticky enough! I just can't win.

The long-awaited choir blog post!

Well at least Amy has been waiting for a post about my choir. The title probably scared the rest of you away. But never fear! This isn't going to be some dorky rant about choir music (although Sable from Belle Canto does have a dorky choir blog and it's AWESOME if you're into that sort of thing. It's called The Choir Girl Blog). Anyway, my new choir has been a fantastic experience not just musically but it has also helped me see how good and kind people can be.

For those of you who don't know, I have been singing with the same choir since I was 15. It's a small women's choir called Belle Canto. Not to brag, but, well I guess I'll brag bit. Belle Canto is really good. We've competed all over Europe. We routinely win national competitions. But all that aside, they are one of the smartest, coolest groups of women I've ever been in. I know what you're thinking... choir girls? Cool? Impossible! Well we may not be cool in a high school, mean-girls kind of way but they really are fabulous women and I miss them terribly.

So one of the things that I definitely wanted to do here in L.A. was find a choir to sing in. The fantastic thing about living in a giant city is that there are opportunities to do everything! I googled choirs before we even came here. The first thing that came up was the Gay Men's Chorus of L.A. I figured I wasn't wanted since I'm neither gay, nor a man. They did, however just allow two straight men to join the group. Shocking! The next choir that came up was a big mixed voice (meaning men and women) choir. It had a fairly simple name like Los Angeles Chamber Choir or something but I couldn't help noticing as I looked at the website that every person in the choir was Asian. It wasn't mentioned anywhere but once again I had the sneaking suspicion that I wasn't wanted.

So after much googling I found a small women's choir called Namaste. There were about 20 women in the group and they were all about my age. Sound familiar? It was like Belle Canto all over again. The only glaring difference was that it was a bit more touchy-feely and I was guessing a bit less serious. Last year they had a yoga concert where the choir sang and the audience did yoga. Isn't that so fabulously L.A.? Well it turns out the Namaste choir was going through a transition and weren't going to be singing this year. The conductor pointed me in the direction of Angel City Chorale which is the choir that I now call mine (although I still refer to Belle Canto as "my choir" too which confuses David greatly).

The audition was a bit nerve-wracking because I am not used to singing alone. I'm in a choir for a reason! I was so nervous but the audition went well. The conductor asked if I had perfect pitch! Ha! I way really proud of myself for auditioning though and forcing myself out of my comfort zone (i.e., back-up singer for the fabulous singers in Belle Canto).

Angel City Chorale or ACC is a choir of 150 with both men and women so it is a far cry from what I'm used to. The conductor is a tiny spark of a women of an unidentifiable age. She looks to be about 50 or 60 but she's got the energy of a 4 year old. She's also hilarious which makes rehearsals really fun. The people in the choir are without a doubt the nicest people I've ever met. They go out of their way to make new people feel welcome. There is a man with autism in the choir who constantly hugs people and has a fascination with Swedish vocabulary. He has a tendency to stare but you get used to him. There is also a blind man named Guillermo with a fabulous tenor voice. In concert we stand in different places than we rehearse in so everyone ends up standing by someone new. One of the loveliest moments of the concert for me was when one of the men lightly touched Guillermo on the shoulder and said "it's Bill. I'm standing right behind you so let me know if you need anything".

Rehearsals started in September to prepare for a holiday concert in December. By November I must admit I was getting a bit annoyed and nervous. I'm used to singing in a choir with fabulous sight-readers so not a lot of time is spent actually learning notes. I felt like the 3rd month with ACC was spent listening to the basses learn their notes. I was also worried that the concert was going to suck. We sounded kind of terrible. I didn't think we were going to pull it together. I knew the concert would be fun because the music was really audience-friendly but if I had been able to invite any of the ladies from Belle Canto to the concert I would have probably warned them that it was not going to be a stellar concert.

Well amazingly we did manage to pull it together. The concert was not only really fun but also really good! The conductor had a really casual, affable connection to the audience. When a baby in the audience squawked or the trumpet screwed up she made a joke of it to cut the tension. The music we sang was a great mix of classical and modern pieces. One of the best things about singing in a choir in L.A. (and about L.A. in general) is the diversity. It was so great to sing gospel songs with actual black people! Hannukah songs with actual Jewish people! We even sang a Jewish gospel song!

David brought Asha to the concert and I had taught her the chorus for Angels We Have Heard on High ahead of time which was one of the audience sing-alongs. It was just about the cutest thing ever to see her belting out Latin in the audience.

Last weekend the choir did their 15th annual Tour of Hope which is an all-day event where we go around L.A. to sing to various groups of people in need. We started out on Skid Row (yes, it's actually a place and not just a band from the early 90's) and went on to a retirement home, a home for teenage mothers, and a place for families transitioning out of homelessness. We ended the day with a concert in a church where several groups of people were bussed in. This included women who have escaped abusive relationships, veterans, and people in recovery from addiction. It was truly a life-changing day. When we sang O Holy Night there were several men with tears in their eyes. I don't know if these men were veterans or ex-addicts but either way, they had been through unimaginable things and what we sang had touched them.

So despite a little bit of frustration with the bass section and the choir's inability to pronounce Latin correctly (did I mention that? Despite my efforts to be open-minded I'm still a bit of a choir snob) my experience with Angel City Chorale has been amazing. I've met some great people and have had some wonderful experiences. The Namaste choir might still be doing a yoga concert in a few months and I think I'll do that too. It's an experience, right? I'm trying to stay open-minded. Although did I mention that ACC do the hokey pokey before every concert? That was a bit too much for me...

The 5 stages of meltdown

Sorry it's been a while since I've written anything but it's been a little hectic around here lately. Asha decided that a stint in the US wouldn't be complete without a trip through the American medical system. So, she decided to go ahead and break her arm.

The long and short of it is that she fell off her bike right onto her elbow. By the time David and had carried her and her bike back to her house she was crying but not in that hysterical, shrieky way that severely injured kids cry. It was pretty swollen so we decided to take her to the hospital to get it checked out. After waiting a couple of hours and reading every single story in our Robert Munsch anthology we finally saw a doctor who very helpfully told us that she didn't see a fracture on the xray but elbow fractures are notoriously hard to see so we might want to see someone else but it might be fine but if we want we can go to an orthopaedic hospital just in case...if we want...maybe. I know that ER doctors are not specialists and can't be expected to know everything but how about giving us some good, solid information to help us out! I'm all over being an empowered patient but I expect a doctor to at least give some guidance when a decision needs to be made.

So Asha was in fairly good spirits at this point and we decided that a kid with a broken arm would be significantly more miserable. We decided to see if the swelling went down over the following couple of days and go to the orthopaedic hospital if things hadn't improved. The next day I got a call from a Dr. Dash (isn't that a fabulous name?!). He had reviewed the x-ray and suspected a fracture and suggested we get it checked out. So I dutifully packed Asha up and headed to the hospital that the doctor from the night before had mentioned in her useless rambling.

My heart sank as we entered the waiting room of the orthopaedic hospital. It was packed with families waiting to be seen by the doctor. I saw a long wait ahead of us. I also couldn't help but notice that 95% of the people there were Latino the majority of which didn't speak English. Don't white people break their bones sometimes? The only other white people there were the wierdest family I've ever seen. The son was in his early 20's and was showing off his transformer toy to his grandpa. I thought that maybe he was cognitively delayed or something but I'm pretty sure he was just really wierd. He kept yelling at his mom and telling her what to do while she played some game on her cell phone and loudly commented about it.

You know how they say there are stages of grief? Well for Asha there were a series of stages of meltdown. It began with indifference followed by excitement because there were TV's everywhere for her to watch! I must say, I don't have a whole lot of positive things to say about television but it sorta saved my life that day. I can only read Murmel Murmel Murmel so many times! The next stage of meltdown was anger when the masses of other kids in the waiting room wanted to share her toys. She lost her ever-loving mind whenever anyone went near her dress-up bears and I had to put them all away.

This was followed by a very very long stage of boredom. She was prepared to do cartwheels on her sore arm in order to get out of there. I was also starting to think that it was all a waste of time and we were going to wait all day to find out she was fine. But I was "pot committed" as they say in poker and I wasn't going to bail out at that point. We'd had lunch before we left and I'd only packed a few snacks since I thought we'd just be a couple of hours. The cafeteria closed at 3:00. What closes at 3:00 I ask you!! So we ate Cheetos for dinner.

7 1/2 hours later we finally saw the doctor. They took another series of x-rays and discovered that Asha's elbow was indeed fractured. They couldn't believe that the first doctor hadn't seen it. They told me that they would give Asha a shot of morphine and try to push the bone frament back into place and put it in a cast. I was told that the morphine might make her sleepy which sounded a-okay to me! I had visions of lovingly carrying my sleeping girl out to the truck, driving home, and putting her in bed where she belonged. Well the morphine seemed to make her not so much sleepy as unbearably grumpy and beligerent. She screamed for her dad (who wasn't there) the whole time they were putting on the cast. When the x-ray technician took one last set of x-rays Asha told him, and I quote, "get out of my life". When the doctor told us that the bone fragment looked like it was in place and surgery likely wouldn't be needed (a very real possibility up until that point) I said "thank you" and Asha scowled at him and said "no thank you". Oh dear. So the last stage of meltdown for Asha that night seemed to be beligerence. I think her little 4 year old brain was looking for someone to blame for all of this and she decided that he was a good scapegoat.

The next day we went back to the hospital to have the head doctor check everything out and luckily surgery will not be necessary. I don't want to find out what general anesthetic might to do Asha's disposition! We also got a call from the first hospital to make sure that we had followed up with a specialist. I would love to believe that they had Asha's well-being in mind but I'm pretty sure they had lawsuit alarm bells ringing all over the place.

I must say that overall Asha has been such a trooper through the whole process. Of course it is her right arm that is broken which is her dominant hand. She has just carried on with life and eats, writes, and plays with her left arm without any complaints. I still can't believe how tough she was for the entire day before she got a cast put on her arm. I think she has inherited a high pain tolerance from her dad and her Grandma. David once went home from the hospital despite severe abdominal pains only to return once his appendix had RUPTURED! My mom once told me that childbirth isn't so much painful as "a feeling of intense pressure".

Oh, and it turns out that Latino people aren't more frail than white people (or any other ethnicity for that matter). There are orthopaedic hospitals all over L.A. The doctor had not sent me to the one close by at UCLA but for some reason sent me downtown to the hospital that's in a predominantely Latino neighbourhood. I'm not sure if we would have had a shorter wait time at another hospital. Part of me wishes that we would have known but another part of me wonders if I should get a shorter wait just because I have fancy expensive Canadian travel health insurance. My day was kind of hellish but it wasn't as bad as the lady who had 4 hyper boys with her (and I'm pretty sure the oldest who was "injured" was faking... he had the fakest limp ever).

Well Asha is now sporting a flourescent pink cast from her armpit to her fingers. She wanted her cast to be "every colour except black" but they wouldn't let her have more than one colour. They said that no kid has ever asked for a rainbow cast before. That's the thing about my Asha. She can be rude sometimes. She can be grumpy every now and then. But boring she is not.

Go Trojans!

No, I did not have a bad parenting day and decide to publicly celebrate birth control (Trojans...condoms...get it?). No, today we went to our first ever college football game! It was one of the things on our list of things to do while we're in L.A. and as a USC student David thought he should support "his" team.

As you probably know, college football is kind of a big deal down here. There is a very fierce rivalry between USC and UCLA. When I auditioned for my choir the conductor, a UCLA alum asked what brought me to L.A.. When I told her that my husband was going to USC she said, very scathingly, "oh... the other school". I laughed but she wasn't kidding. I'm kind of surprised that I got into the choir! Well we weren't able to go to a USC vs. UCLA game but we thought a game against the Washington Huskies would suffice.

So to get in the spirit of things we went a bit early to check out the tailgate party which consisted of about a bazillion tents set up in the quad at the university. Pretty much every club, group, and organization had a tent set up. There was one for Latino USC students, USC parents, Jewish students, etc. Not to mention all the sororities and fraternities such as phi kappa sigma not to be confused with sigma kappa phi. It got me thinking about belonging and how we all want to feel as though we're a part of something. Apparently it isn't enough that they all go to the same school and cheer for the same team, they need to compartmentalize themselves even more. I'm thinking about started my own group for wives of USC students that like hummus.

So the tents were surrounded by people milling around and eating and drinking. Every tent seemed to have food but I was unsure if it was free for the taking. Can I take hummus from the Gay & Lesbian student tent if I'm not a lesbian nor a student? We saw a couple of guys shotguning cans of Coors light which made me comment "is there any point in shotguning light beer? Is it just like drinking normal beer at a normal pace?"

From the tents we headed over to the stadium. We were immediately struck by how seemingly sedate the crowd seemed to be. We found our seats and looked around. Then David noticed it. Nobody had beer! We were shocked! We had really been looking forward to eating some popcorn and drinking $10 watered down beer! Isn't that what football's all about? Suddenly I was wishing that I had shotguned a Coors light.

I'm not what you would call a football "fan". I understand the general rules. I get it that you have to get the ball across the field and you only have so many downs and you have to gain so many yards in a down and all that. My problem with football is that there so much downtime. There's about 5 minutes of set-up for a play that lasts 10 seconds that may or may not actually be exciting. I find my mind wandering when everyone's just standing around and then I miss the action. I don't know if it's my years of watching hockey (a game that actually has constant action) but I had a hard time staying focused. At one point David said "what these guys need are some skates! Then things would get interesting!". And what's with all the penalties? The whole point of the game is jumping on top of eachother but heaven forbid they should grab someone's facemask! For a game with so many stops and starts, I found all the penalties unbearable! I think the penalties in hockey are if nothing else more impressive sounding. Slashing! Roughing! Cross-checking!

But enough complaining about football! It turned out that USC were the far superior team. They made some really impressive plays and there were some very exciting moments. Of course, when a touchdown was scored the fairly calm crowd when wild! They have this thing they do that is hard to describe. It's sort of like a hail Hitler salute but with a peace sign (kind of contradictory, I know). The band would play a song and everyone would wave two fingers up and down to the beat. I felt a bit like I was in a cult or something but it was sort of fun. Another highlight was that whenever the Trojans got a touchdown their mascot came onto the field. Was their mascot some big freaky furry animal suit? No! Whenever they got a touchdown a white horse named Traveler would ride out with a man on its back wearing a full Roman warrior costume complete with metal breastplate and drawn sword.

The horse, if you can believe it was not my favourite part of the touchdown (or the 6 points scored for that matter). My favourite part was what I like to call the "stranger high 5". Everyone around us would jump up and start high 5-ing eachother like we were all best friends. It made me think again about that feeling of belonging. Yesterday I didn't give a crap about football, let alone this particular team but there I was today high 5-ing strangers like the happiest thing in the world had just happened. It was kinda nice.

So if you ever get a chance to see college ball I highly recommend it! I didn't even mention the marching band that had about 500 people in it. David kept talking about how dorky they were. I couldn't really disagree but I'm guessing it's not easy to walk around with a tuba on your shoulder playing a song, marching in time, and lining up with 499 other people to spell the word "Traveler".

Fight on! That's what people in the USC "family" say. You wouldn't get it. You're not part of the club.

The last sentence of this post will shock and amaze you!

I saw a billboard for a movie the other day. It was one of those really scary, twisted movies and the tagline on the billboard was something along the lines of "the last 15 minutes will mess you up for life". I mean, really? People want to pay money to be messed up for life? I have to admit that I am kind of curious but the odds of me going to that movie are approximately zero. I'm a person who likes to be comfortable, both physically and mentally. I don't like rides that make me feel like I'm going to die. I don't like spicy food that brings tears to my eyes. And I don't like movies that mess me up for life. Or even make me jump a little. So anyway, I thought I would give this post an intriguing title to see if it hooks you!

The real subject of this post is security and paranoia. I must admit that I have a particularly lax view when it comes to security. When we left Whitecourt and rented out our house we had to search for keys to give the renters because we never locked our door, even when we were out of town. Now that we are in L.A. we have stepped up our security a bit but definitely not to the level of everyone else. The area where we live is a pretty safe, suburban-type area but it is adjacent to Inglewood. If you were ever a Tupac Shakur fan (or have ever gone to a bar with me when the song "California Love" came on) the line "Inglewood always up to no good" will be in your head now. So the area we're in is pretty good but the next 'hood over is kinda sketchy. Break-ins have been known to happen around here so we do lock our doors most of the time.

We have a neighbour that I sometimes give a ride to. A few times I have forgotten to lock the door when we left the house and she thinks that I am completely mental. The truth of the matter is that we don't actually have anything worth stealing. Seriously. The laptop I am writing on right now is probably the most valuable thing we have and it's usually out of the house with David (which, incidentally is why I don't blog more often). Our TV is legitimately heavier than it is worth. A robber would probably leave it behind for fear of putting out his back. I suppose they may want my ipod, particularly if they're a big Glee fan. When I told our neighbour that we don't have anything worth stealing she told me that they would steal our couch to which I replied that I guess we would have to get another one for 100 bucks on Craigslist.

I have made a concerted effort to simply my life over the past few years. I have significantly reduced the amount of stuff that we have and more importantly the amount of new stuff that we acquire. This has given us more financial security and allowed us to live the life that we want to. An unexpected perk has been that I don't fall prey to what I believe is complete and utter paranoia that someone is out to steal my stuff. I think most people spend far too much time and energy protecting their stuff. In general, I think that people feel that the world is unsafe and people are out to get them. I think that television is single-handedly responsible for this. When you're constantly being bombarded by news of break-ins, robberies, and abductions you think that they are a common occurrence.

OK, I've gotten a bit side-tracked. I should just write an entire post about TV and get it off my chest! What I really want to talk about is Halloween. There has been a significant decline in the number of kids trick-or-treating all over North America and I think it's tragic! I think it's a direct result of the aforementioned paranoia and a decline in the feeling of community in our neighbourhoods.

I have to admit that we were tragically a part of the problem this year. Our next door neighbour has been raving to Asha for weeks about the "harvest festival" that they have on Halloween at her church. So no matter how much we tried to convince Asha to go trick-or-treating she would hear none of it. I REFUSED to be one of those grumpy houses with the lights turned out so we left our porch light on with a bowl of candy on the step. I put a sign on it that read: "Please take 2 candies each". David gave it a 6.25% chance that there would be any candy left when we returned.

We had heard that most of the kids who live in our area went to the west side of Westchester which is fancier to go trick-or-treating. Most of the trick-or-treaters around here would be kids whose parents drove them in from Inglewood. What were the odds that that bowl wouldn't be emptied by some teenager 10 minutes after we left? Was that bowl and its accompanying sign a giant billboard advertising that we weren't home and would-be thieves were free to steal our Craigslist futon and my Glee-filled ipod? Mostly I left that bowl of candy out because I didn't want to be a house that didn't give out candy on Halloween. But I think I also left that bowl of candy as a bit of a test of humanity. I would rather be someone who was foolish and had faith in people but was burned in the end than a person who turned off their porch lights in fear.

Well here it comes, the sentence that will inspire shock and awe. Were we robbed? Had our house been toiletpapered and our jack-o-lanterns smashed? Had our candy bowl been ravaged by a greedy teenager?

When we got back to our house about 20 candies remained.

My name is Melissa, and I am a homemaker

I had to fill out a form the other day and it asked what my occupation was. I automatically wrote that I am a Speech Therapist because that's what I've defined myself as for the past 7 years. When I thought about it thought I realized that I am not in fact a practicing Speech Therapist. The state of California doesn't recognize me as such at all. They have a series of hoops that I must jump through including a course by course comparison for my Master's degree to a U.S. degree (which, I might add, costs $200) in order for me to practice as an SLP. So when I thought about it I realized that what I really am is a stay-at-home mom.

Until I really thought about this, I hadn't realized that now whenever someone asks what I do for a living I find it necessary to explain why I am not actually working as an SLP (visa issues, licensing issues, etc.). I haven't been able to work but the truth is I'm actually really happy to be staying home with my girls. It wasn't really the plan but I'm embracing it.

This also lead me to the question of what title I should be using. "Stay-at-home mom" isn't bad but there's something sort of passive about it. It seems sort of like a default position like "should I go and do something or should I just stay at home?". I am a Druett (my maiden name for those of you who may not know) by nature and therefore I tend to approach everything as a project. If I'm going to be a mom it's not going to be some passive thing I just do! I'm going to read books! Go to classes! I told my neighbour the other day that I had gone to a parenting class and she said "why?". I didn't know how to respond! Because that's what I do!

Anyway, when I thought about the term "homemaker" my first reaction was "yeuch". It sounds so outdated and anti-feminist. I think of women vacuuming in trim dresses and red lipstick and greeting their husbands at the door with a dry martini. But, when I thought about it, what's so wrong with being a person that makes a home? When you think of the word "home" doesn't it give you warm happy thoughts? I once heard that making a home-cooked meal for your family is an act of love. I truly believe that. Not everyone can cook a meal from scratch every day but there is something really loving about the act of doing so when you can. Now, I will never, ever enjoy cleaning. I hate it with every fibre of my being but it's a necessary evil. It's part of what makes our home safe and clean and enjoyable to be in. It helps that there isn't that much space for me to clean these days (see an earlier post)!

So yes, I am a homemaker and I'm OK with that. I am NOT a housewife. That's where I draw the line. That's just way too barbaric for me. I guess having kids saves me from feeling like too much of a throwback! I remember there was once a woman on my soccer team in Whitecourt who didn't work and didn't have kids. I remember one of the other ladies saying (behind her back of course) "oh my God! She's a kept woman!". It's just one of those things that you don't see every day! You know what though? She was really happy and I assume financially secure. She was writing a book or something so I guess she kept herself busy. So all the power to her! Isn't feminism about being able to do what you want?

So for now, I am a homemaker. I will end with my favourite quote of the moment:

"Educated women in the home? What an odd thing to deplore! What better place to have us 'end up'... What more important job is there than sharing the values we are learning to cherish with the next generation of adults? What more strategic place could there be for the educated woman?"  - Edith F. Hunter

A World of Laughter, A World of Tears

Well it was inevitable. We've been in L.A. for over 4 months now and we finally did it. Yes, we finally visited "happiest place on Earth". David's mom was here for a week and what she wanted to do most was take the girls to Disneyland. Once David got over his severe bitterness over the fact that she didn't take him to Disneyland when he was a kid we decided it would be a fun thing to do.

We kept the whole thing very hush hush from Asha partly because we didn't want to deal with constant questioning about when we were going and partly because we went on a Friday to avoid the weekend rush and I was scared to tell Asha's teacher that she was missing school to go see Mickey Mouse. Have I mentioned Ms. Lucy yet? She's really nice and great with the kids but she scares the bejeezus out of me. She's very particular about attendance and punctuality. On the first day of class she pointed out all the parents that were late which included me (traffic, in L.A.? Who knew?). So I told Ms. Lucy that Asha's grandmother was visiting and we were going "out of town". David thinks this was lying but Disneyland is in Anaheim which is a different city! We had to take 4 different freeways to get there!

Anyway, on Thursday night we told Asha we were going somewhere special the next day but we didn't say where. When she woke up the next day we asked her where she thought we might be going. She said "well I was thinking about it nast light (she pronounces "last night" like that and I have never corrected her because it's so damn cute. Does that make me a bad Speech Pathologist?) and I was thinking maybe we were going to Randy's Donuts". Randy's Donuts is a lesser known L.A. landmark. It's a walk-up donut place with a giant donut that's about 30 feet in diameter on the roof. You can imagine that it's very intriguing to a 4 year old. I think she might think that they sell 30 foot donuts there. Well we told her that we were not going to Randy's Donuts but in fact were going to Disneyland and she was pretty excited all the while questioning about the availability of donuts at Disneyland.

 Look at me embedding pictures into my blog!

Well, I was pretty prepared to hate Disneyland. The Disney corporation represents many of the ills that plague modern society in my mind: mass consumerism, marketing that targets children, anti-feminism etc. etc. But the trouble with Disneyland is that, well, it's kind of awesome! The rides are really fun and well maintained. The most popular rides have a "fast pass" system so you can essentially skip the long line-ups. The parade and fireworks were fantastic. There is crap to buy EVERYWHERE but it's surprisingly not shoved in your face. You can even bring in your own food so you don't have to shell out $8.00 for a piece of pizza if you don't want to.

We did most of the typical Disneyland stuff. We went on the "It's a small world" ride. David had never heard of the ride or the song. Sometimes I think he lives in a bubble. He once asked me who Bono is. I mean, really?? Anyway, I described the ride as what I imagined an acid trip would be like if one were to drop acid. Since I was expecting it to be demented I found it quite enjoyable. David was somewhat disturbed by it. Nia, on the other hand, thought it was just about the best thing ever.
Asha met not only Mickey Mouse but also Ariel, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella. She told me that they weren't the actually princesses but just ladies dressed up as them. I'm not sure if she thought Mickey was an actual mouse. I don't want to ask in case she thinks he's real and I burst her bubble. David and I went on the Indiana Jones ride. He had a little talk with me the night before about how Disneyland was going to be fun and I shouldn't spoil it by being no fun (i.e., bailing on all the rides). I responded by saying that the only thing less fun than a mom who doesn't go on rides is a mom who spends the day at Disneyland barfing. We decided that Indiana Jones was a happy medium between Space Mountain and the teacups. The Indiana Jones ride was, well, awesome! We rode around in a jeep and were chased by rolling boulders and creepy crawlies. We went right through a ghost and felt bullets whiz past our faces.

So all in all it was a great day. Is Disneyland the happiest place on Earth? Well judging by the number of kids have complete and utter meltdowns at any given moment I'm going to say no. Was it worth going to? Definitely. At the end of the day we asked Asha if she thought Disneyland was better than Randy's Donuts and she said that she hasn't been to Randy's Donuts yet so she wasn't sure. We'll get there someday and I'll let you know what the verdict is.

P.S. On a completely different note... I feel like this blog is very Asha-centric and I am always commenting on her genius and ignoring Nia's. This is purely because of their respective ages I am sure. Well I have decided that Nia is also a genius because today she learned to blow her nose. Now if you're not very familiar with kids this may not sound impressive but I have met many a 5 year old who can't do this! She's 13 months old! She may not walk yet but she is a nasal genius.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

So I don't intend on going back to Canada for a visit every month that I'm here but it seems to be working out that way. My sister, who lives in England was in Canada for a visit and my parents very graciously flew me and the girls up so the whole family could be together. I haven't seen my sister, her husband, and my nephew for 2 years and I have never before met my niece who is 9 months old. David stayed home because he had classes and an exam.

Well needless to say, my new little niece is ridiculously adorable. My nephew is delightful and not only because he has the cutest little accent ever. He had a fascinating conversation with Asha about the fact that in England they call underwear "pants" and pants "trousers". Asha has told pretty much every person in L.A. that since we've been back. I found myself feeling like a complete hick because my accent sounded so coarse compared to his. Apparently he said to my sister when they had a moment alone "Mum, Auntie Melissa always calls me 'dude'. What does that mean?". Overall, it was lovely to spend some time with my sisters and amazing to see all 7 of the new generation together.

So in the spirit of Thanksgiving I want to say what I was thankful for this weekend. Firstly I am thankful for my husband who was so jealous that I "got to" go on a plane with Asha and Nia. I personally was jealous that he got to sleep in lay on the beach without stopping Asha from getting washed away and Nia from eating rotting seaweed. David has a bit of a romantic notion about flying with children because he hasn't actually done it in a while. But, he reminded me that there are fun moments when flying with children when I'm not helping Asha in the tiny bathroom while holding a sleeping baby.

Next I am thankful for my sisters. I can honestly say that despite the fact that we have children that are all very close in age we just truly adore them all. There is legitimately no envy, one-upmanship, or competition between us. It helps that all of them happen to be gorgeous as well as brilliant (but I may be a tad biased).

I am also thankful for my wonderful in-laws. I knew that I have a great relationship with them but it really hit home when I was talking to David on the phone and he asked if it was wierd being there without him or Jeanette. It honestly hadn't occurred to me that it would be wierd at all. I think that's pretty rare.

Finally, I am thankful for my parents who made the whole thing happen. Not only did they get us all together for the first time in 2 years but they let us overrun their home. And when I say overrun I am not exaggerating! That place was a madhouse complete with two babies, an adorable yet slightly evil 2 year old, 2 very energetic boys, a 4 year old girl who loudly sings approximately 75% of the time, and a love-sick teenager.

Well this list is obviously not exhaustive and I am also thankful for the rest of my family and friends. I am definitely a very lucky girl. On a side note, Thanksgiving marked the 1 year anniversary of my becoming a vegetarian, or to be precise, a pescatarian because I still eat fish. I officially reduced my carbon footprint by 1 tonne for the last year. Unfortunately that's about equivalent to the carbon burned by my plane trip home but let's focus on the positives, shall we?

Posting Comments part deux

OK, so it looks like I'm not the only one who can't post comments. I'm sort of glad because it means that I'm not just being a moron. It annoys me though because I don't know how to fix it. When I googled it I found advice about cookies and stuff which just made me hungry.

Anyway, I think the only way to do it is to choose the "name" option from the dropdown box and then you can just leave the URL part blank. I would love to get some more comments! It would be great if this blog could be sort of like a dialogue. Let me know if you try to post a comment this way and it doesn't work!

Alternate magnifying glass

OK, so I know I write about Asha way too much and you're probably all sick of it but I just can't help it! She's so funny and I'm pretty sure also a friggin' genius. Here's what she said to me today: "We should get an alternate magnifying glass" to which I replied "and what would that be?". She said that it is like a magnifying glass but it takes big things and makes them look smaller. When I asked her where she heard that she said she just thought of it on her own. I grilled her on where she might have heard of it but she swore she got it from her own head. (I know that this it true because although she is brilliant she isn't a good liar. I think it legitimately hasn't occurred to her to lie yet.) Anyway, an alternate magnifying glass?? Isn't that amazing? She never ceases to amaze me with her imagination.

Well I have decided that Asha and Nia are my alternate magnifying glasses. The world is so vast and full of ideas and images and experiences but they help me hone in on what really matters. My world is pretty simple and small but I like it that way.

The other thing that I love about Asha is her unabashed wierdness. She starts school at 7:45 in the morning. Yes, you read that right. It's ridiculous. Well when we're waiting outside of the classroom (yes we get there early because Asha's teacher, Ms. Lucy is a punctuality NAZI!) Asha's routine is to run around like a crazy person on the grass. Most of the kids are looking bleary eyed and tired and Asha is literally running circles around them. Two of the girls in her class are named Charlotte and Cosette. Do you have a mental image of these girls? Well that image is likely bang-on. They are both very sweet, pretty girls. They usually stand politely with their moms looking slightly afraid of yet also slightly amused by Asha. Today Asha decided that it was backward day and she should walk backwards into class. At first Charlotte and Cozy (as she's called) looked unsure but eventually both decided it looked fun too. Ms. Lucy was a bit stunned but very amused as all of the kids walked into class backwards.

I predict that Asha is not going to be a cool kid but neither will she be a social reject. I think she's going to be the girl that the high school Mean Girls despise but everyone else likes. I also think that with her spice and immense creativity she just may rule the world some day. I mean, if she can get a Shirley Temple look-alike named Cosette (who had her initials monogrammed on her dress I might add) to walk backwards she can do just about anything!!

P.S. Do you have "Castle on a Cloud" in your head now? Every damn day I say hello to Cosette and I walk away with that song in my head! I always want to sng "Cosette, I love you very much" to her but I figure they're either sick to death of that or else I would look like a creepy pedophile!

Pros and Cons

Well we've been living in L.A. for about 3 months now. When we were back in Canada for a quick visit most people asked how I like living here and how it compares to living back home. My answer was usually "well, there are pros and cons". So, in no particular order here are the pros and cons of living in L.A.:

Pro - The freeways. When the freeways are relatively traffic-free they are such a fantastic way to get around. You have anywhere from 5 to 7 lanes to choose from and you can comfortably go about 110 km/hr and zip from one end of the city to the other.
Con - The freeways. During rush hour but also at other random, unexpected times (such as 3pm on a Sunday) the freeways get ridiculously backed up and you creep along at 15 km/hr. I always think that there must be an accident ahead but there never is. I have been told that one should always have spare food and water in your vehicle in case you get stuck on the freeway for hours. Seriously.

Pro - Lots of ethnic diversity. It's very cool to go the the park or even Asha's classroom and be surrounded by people of all sorts of ethnicities. You can literally get authentic food from every single country in the world somewhere in L.A. Asha's learning a little bit of Spanish although for some reason she's gotten it in her head that "four" is "mothro" in Spanish and she tells me I'm wrong if I tell her otherwise.
Con - Lots of ethnic/economic disparity. The neighourhoods are quite racially segregated and there's a fairly distinct unspoken caste system when it comes to employment. The whole economy seems to be dependent on the sweat of cheap, Mexican labour.

Pro - The weather. It has just started to get a bit cloudy sometimes but the summer was entirely cloud-free. We haven't had a drop of rain yet. The west side of L.A. where we live also benefits from the winds that come off the ocean so it doesn't get too hot in the summer as it does further east in the valley. We haven't had a winter here yet but I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that it'll be better than an Alberta winter. I told someone the other day about how we plow and shovel our snow into giant snowbanks and she didn't believe me.
Con - Hmm. Let's see... Nope, I can't think of a con when it comes to the weather. No opportunity for cloud-gazing? Oh wait, how about the fact that people use huge amounts of water shipped from hundreds of miles north to water their lawns. It's ridiculous and sickening. But that's what you have to do when you live in the desert and you want a beautiful lawn. People also seem to wash their cars CONSTANTLY. I'm not exaggerating when I say that most people wash their vehicle at least once a week. I'm also not exaggerating when I say that our truck is the dirtiest vehicle in the entire state.

Pro - A generally positive attitude. People are just so damn happy to be American! The patriotism here is kind of cool. I think that all the sun and good weather is also somewhat responsible for people being in a generally good mood. I've said it before but people in  L.A. are pretty much always really friendly and nice.
Con - I think that Americans may be so busy being pleased with themselves that they don't see that their whole system is broken. In L.A. at least, they have a fairly high sales tax and property taxes are very high but I can't figure out where all that money goes! Certainly not toward health care or education or infrastructure for that matter. I guess I do have an inkling of where it goes but maybe I shouldn't write it for fear of getting thrown out of the country. Let's just say this - do you know how much it is costing to keep American troups in Afghanistan? $1 billion a week. For real.

Well that's all for now but in order to stay true to form I will end on a positive note. We went to Hollywood for the first time last night and saw the Walk of Fame and handprints in the sidewalk and all that stuff. My hands are the same size as Julie Andrews' so I'm basically famous now. I also may or may not have seen that Asian guy from The Hangover. Did I mention that I also may or may not have seen the red-headed kid from Harry Potter at the airport last month?

Happiness is... having a good babysitter (or 2!)

I've had a few people ask if things are really going as well as they seem in my blog and emails. Well I do tend to be overly positive in my blog posts and email updates because I figure no one really wants to hear me whine! Although it's not always rainbow and butterflies and I definitely have my bad days I am doing really well here in L.A..

Today was a particularly fabulous day. David and I generally take turns getting up first in the morning and today was his morning so I was able to sleep in. Now there was a time in my life when sleeping in meant staying in bed until noon. Now my life is such that sleeping until 7:45 like heaven. David and Asha decided they should all go for a bike ride so my "sleeping in" included listening to Asha talk loudly to David while he hooked the trailer up to the bike for 15 minutes as Stobie's tail banged against my door. I then had 15 minutes of glorious silence until my family greeted my with tea in bed.

After breakfast Asha and I made cookies. I always think that baking with Asha will be fun until I remember that for her "baking" is not about the finished product but about tasting everything along the way (including the salt right out of the shaker). We managed to save a little bit of cookie dough for making actual cookies!

When we came to L.A. I figured we wouldn't be making too many friends with the people from David's school. I didn't think there would be very many people with kids and I worried that the people in his program would be sort of upitty. This was confirmed when David came home from his first day of school and reported that most of the students drove BMW's and Land Rovers. Well David hasn't really found any kindred spirits but he has made a few friends. One classmate has a similar way of thinking to David and his wife just had a baby last week so they have a few things in common. He did, however recently email David about all of the fantastic premium outlet malls in the L.A.. Ha ha! I guess he doesn't know David very well yet!

Well Charlene, one of David's classmates invited us to a barbeque at her house along with a few other people from their school. Charlene and her husband live in one of the oldest neighbourhoods in L.A. and they are surrounded by huge 100 year old houses at various stages of dilapidation and repair. I expected Miss Havisham to peek her head out of one of the windows as we drove by.

Luckily we recently found a couple of great babysitters so we were able to leave the girls at home and actually enjoy some adult company. We drank beer, ate salmon and grilled corn on the cob, and had proper conversations without continually cutting food into small pieces and stopping our children from eating dirt. Charlene and her husband Tobin are both architects and seem really nice and down to earth. Ken, another classmate is a tad socially awkward but one of those people who doesn't talk much but then throws out something brilliant every now and then. The other couple at the party were aptly named Hillary and Weston. They are also very nice but they fit the "fancy people" stereotype that I expected to be in David's program. They were people that I probably never would have hung out in any other situation but they were really interesting. I found out such interesting tidbits as where the term "Ivey League" came from and where Reese Witherspoon hangs out.

We had a great visit and great food but the best part of the day was returning back home. Asha was mad because she didn't want her babysitter Christi to leave (always a good sign!). They had made a fort out of the boxes in the garage, a game that all of the other kids in the neighbourhood are completely sick of. Absence had made my heart grow fonder and I was even willing to be the evil queen who had trapped Princess Asha in the tower of boxes. I was then rescued by the girls across the street who came to play and were willing to be fellow princesses for a while.

So overall a fantastic day! I truly think the key to happy parenthood is a good babysitter! The benefits are endless! You get some kid-free time. Your kids get someone new to play with who isn't sick of playing in boxes yet. And being apart lets you and your kids miss eachother when you get back! Perfect! (I won't mention the fact that Nia is getting all 4 molars at once and screamed when we tried to put her to bed. No, that would be too whiny of me!)

How Do They Do It?

Well I haven't written in a while and I'll tell you why. I always feel like I need to have something fantastic to write. I've started a few posts but I always doubt myself because I fear that I'm being too judgemental and/or boring and/or opinionated and/or pessimistic and/or optimistic etc. So I've decided to set a time to write every week and I'll just say whatever comes to mind. We humans tend to take ourselves too seriously don't we?

So here's the opinionate blog that I've been writing in my head but I haven't put down. Thanks to Jeanette for encouraging me to write whatever I think even if it irritates people! I guess that's why blogs are good because people are able to comment right away unlike a book or something like that.

So. Last weekend we met up with a friend of mine and her family. They are really nice and have a daughter Asha's age. They also live about 100 yards from the beach so we met up at their house for lunch and then headed out to the beach together. Well I think I've mentioned this woman before in my blog. We met at the park and she's a bit uptight and seems to feel the need to prove herself all the time. I totally get this because there's nothing like motherhood to make you feel completely insecure and judged by all. She works full time and has commented a few times that she feels judged for it. She also told me that she's a better mom when she works because she's not the stay-at-home mom type.

When we arrived at their house we were greeted by ocean views and a beautiful open floor plan. The house has a fabulous winding staircase up the middle and a gorgeous backyard. We talked about the beginning of school and she commented several times on the yoga pant wearing moms who drop off their kids at school who seem to sneer at her in her work clothes as though she is a terrible, heartless working mother. "How do they do it?" she said. "How can they afford to live in Los Angeles and stay home with their kids?". Well I don't know this woman well and I'm also working on being less judgemental (I have been horribly judgemental in the past and I am really trying to change that but I think that I may have gone too far to the point where I never state my opinions. Hence, my inability to write honest blog posts... but that's another topic). Anyway, what I wanted to say was "maybe they don't live in 2,500 sq ft houses steps away from the beach that are filled with fabulous furniture and have 2 brand new vehicles parked outside!". Yuck. I hate even writing that but that's what I thought.

What you also need to know about my friend is that she and her husband are both engineers so they are likely doing pretty well for themselves. The other thing that I wanted to say to her is "do you honestly want to be a yoga pant mom? If you don't that's OK! But if you do, you can be! You can live in a 817 sq ft house with planes going by every 5 minutes. You can take the bus for a buck fifty a pop and buy your furniture on Craigslist!" I may or may not be speaking from experience.

So I guess my point is, and I think I may write an entire post about this in the future, I believe that everyone needs to decide what they really truly want in life and what their priorities are. It can be really hard to figure out what your priorities are as opposed to what you think they should be. I think feminism has done women a disservice in a way because we feel like we need to be able to do it all. If you prioritize your job than you are a bad mom. If you choose to stay at home you are wasting your brain and education.

So since I don't feel like I know my new friend well enough to say it to her I'm going to say it to the ether instead. I think what she wants is to work full time and live in a beautiful home and be a mom as well. And that's OK! I think the yoga pants moms want to be home with their kids during they day (which likely includes a yoga class while the kids are at school, hence the pants) and that's OK!

I read a book called "Living Simply with Children" when Asha was a baby and it encourages you to come up with a mission statement for your family. You then set out to redesign your life to fit that mission statement. For me, that included not working full-time which resulted in some sacrifice. The added bonus of that is that I have no fear of anyone breaking into our house because we literally have nothing of value! It's actually sort of freeing.  I'm not saying I have it all figured out but I feel that I am living the life that I want to live. It sounds obvious but I'm not sure that most people really are living the life that they want to live. Oh God, I sound like Oprah. Time to sign off.

But one more thing because I just read over what I've written and I feel like a know-it-all bitch. I do want to note that I have been very lucky in my life and I know that it's not always so easy for others to "live the life they want to live". There are many factors that people can't change (being born into poverty, abuse, disability, etc.) and I happen to have been very lucky in all those areas and I whole-heartedly acknowledge that! But the vast majority of factors in our lives are things that we can change (home, spouse, possessions, job, etc.) and I don't think there's a good excuse for letting your life be less than the best it can be. Oh geez, I seriously need to stop writing now before I get any cheesier.

Posting comments

Thank you all for your comments and feedback about my blog so far. It seems that some of you are having trouble posting a comment on the blog or are unable to become an official follower but that's OK! I seem to be unable to post comments on my own blog for some reason. It probably has something to do with that fact that I am a technological moron. Anyway, I love getting feedback in any form (emails, facebook messages, telling my mom at Lion's Park, etc.). I will try to write more often since it seems like people are actually reading it!

Home...

Well here we are in Canada for a visit! We wouldn't have come back so soon but my friend Jodi was getting married and I had the honour of being a bridesmaid. I'm glad we had the excuse to come back although why is it so damn cold here?! Isn't it August? I keep telling everyone in L.A. that it's the same temperature there as it is here in the summer!

Well this little jaunt home has made me think a lot about what home is. Particularly because Asha is completely confused about it and rightly so. We stayed in Jodi's basement during the lead-up to the wedding and at one point as we were leaving a store I said "let's go home". Asha said "are we getting in a plane and going back to California?". I had to explain that I meant Jodi's house which is not our home but where we were staying at that particular point in time. So now that we're in Canada are we home? When we were in L.A. we told people we were going "home" for a visit but now that we're here we tell people we go back "home" on the 25th. How am I supposed to keep this straight, let alone a 4 year old!?!

The other oft-discussed topic with Asha is nationality. We are definitely Canadians but are we Americans? Are we Angelenos (people from Los Angeles)? If you have to be an actual citizen to be an Angeleno then 50% of L.A. doesn't fit the bill! When we landed in Calgary Asha asked if we were then people from Calgary. I said we are definitely NOT Calgarians! (I guess I am an Edmontonian at heart).

Well although I am really enjoying California and meeting new people it is so nice to be here where I know people and can just be comfortable. Meeting new people can be a bit exhausting! You're constantly putting on a bit of a front in hopes that the person will like you. I've found this is worse with kids because you worry that people are judging you by your child's behaviour and if she's not perfectly behaved all the time (or in our case a complete spaz at times) you look like a bad parent. But that's a whole other topic!

Here is what I've decided... home is not where the heart is because that makes no sense. Seriously, what does that mean?? For me at least, home is this: where-people-love-you-despite-how-wierd-you-and/or-child(ren)-behave. I'm thinking about creating a wall plaque to be mass produced and distributed worldwide.

So to all of you, my friends and family, thanks for being my home. Thanks for loving me despite my idiosyncracies. Thanks for seeing the genius in my child even though she is sometimes rude (at Jodi's wedding she very loudly announced "yup, Mum, I think we upstaged the bride"). And thank you for helping me learn the true meaning of "home". Now, how to explain it to a 4 year old... Well it'll be easier than explaining infinity which I tried to do today with very little success!!

Hmm, what to call this post... if they won't let me work here I'll be an amateur sociologist.

I've been thinking lately about how the places that we live affect who we are and particularly how we parent. I didn't realized it before (I suppose because I'd only been a parent in one place) but every place seems to have its own parenting culture. My current LA 'hood, for instance seems to be made up of dual-income parents in their late 30's to early 40's. The other day I was chatting with a mom at a park which seems to be my form of sociological research these days. She said "wow, you must have been young when you had Asha". I was 27! In my world that is not particularly young to have kids. My mom was 23 when she had my oldest sister and she felt positively ancient at the time.

Women generally wait until at least 30 to start having children here. A 34 year old mom I was talking to said that often when she's at the park she finds that she is the only one there that's under 40 (except for the nannies). The reason for having children later seems to be twofold. First, it's so damn expensive to live here it takes a while to attain a standard of living that you feel comfortable raising children in. Also, women generally wait until their career is on-track before procreating. Which brings me to the other common theme here which is that most moms work full time. This is also at least in part due to the aforementioned expense to live here (seriously, half a million dollars gets you an 800 sq ft, 2 bedroom house in a decent neighbourhood). I have yet to meet a mom that stays at home full time and doesn't work at all.

Working full-time can make it difficult to arrange preschool for your kids, which is another interesting theme here. Getting your kid into the right preschool is a huge deal. Some places have wait-lists that are over a year long. Since some people start their kids in preschool at age 2 1/2 you pretty much need to call to get on a waitlist from the delivery room. I guess at home preschool seemed a bit more optional to me. One mom told me about the homework assignments that her daughter gets at preschool. She thought it was "cute" but I was horrified! Preschools seem to be either very academic or very crunchy and play-based. I'm leaning in the direction of the crunch but I'm trying not to get caught up in the craziness!
Another woman I met in the park who recently moved here from Tucson, AZ told me that the split between working and stay-at-home moms is about 50/50 in Tucson and there is a pretty fierce rivalry between the two groups. She also seemed to be consciously slipping things into the conversation to ensure I knew she was a good mom and human being (i.e., "sometimes I freeze those yogurt tubes... the organic ones...", "there's our car, there's our Prius"). She was really nice but she just seemed to be trying so hard as though she had been judged in the past. I hadn't noticed it until then but most people around here are pretty easy-going and unapologetic about themselves. I had imagined a bunch of bleached and botoxed "kept" women but people are actually quite normal! Of course the "Real Housewives of Beverly Hills"  are around in this city but not in my humble little neighbourhood. I did get a bit of a taste of it when I went to Playa Vista which is a bit more glitzy. I saw my first botched nose job (well I thought it had been botched but she seemed pretty pleased with herself).

Oh dear, this post has gotten a bit judgemental. I will end on a positive note. Back to my sociological experiment (i.e., taking my kid to the park and talking to other moms). The biggest insight I've gained from this move so far is that people in general are pretty cool! I always thought that I was lucky because I fell into a good group of friends when I was a kid. I was lucky because I found a great group of girls to hang out with in university. I was lucky that when my husband dragged me to a town in northern Alberta that he happened to work with a group of great people in forestry. Well it turns out that most people in general are just really great and you just have to go out there are meet them. And if you meet enough people you can weed out the occasional wierdo! Ha ha!

How To Think Like a Four Year Old

My sister, Natasha once told me that Asha is the funniest person that she's ever met. At the time I thought it might be a bit of an overstatement but I think I've decided that I agree. Asha is also one of the most critical thinkers that I've ever met. Case in point - today she asked me how birds fly when there's gravity. Isn't that a fantastic question? When I'm not laughing histerically at what she says, I'm saying "that's a great question" and then figuring out if I even know what the answer is. I have found myself googling such gems as "why does the earth spin?" and "mold viewed through a microscope" and "why is poo brown?". I don't recommend googling that last one because all sorts of wierd fetish websites come up. Just ask me if you're curious what the answer is...

My funny Asha-ism of the day goes a little something like this: "I have a special drink that I drink sometimes. It doesn't taste like water or like milk. It is my own spit." What?! As I am writing this she is in her bed and she's supposed to be sleeping or at least attempting to become sleepy. I just heard a colossal crash and when I asked what she was doing she said "it's not me making the racket. It's my toys". She also frequently blames parts of her body for things, such as "I didn't step on Nia, my foot did".

My 5 year old nephew recently told my other sister, Siena that he's pretty sure he's smarter than her but she just has more knowledge (I think he ties with Asha for funniest person I know). Well I think he's on to something. Kids have a sense of wonder about the world that we as adults seem to have lost. Why don't I think about things like birds and gravity? Did I once but now I'm too busy thinking about other stuff? I sometimes wish I could be 4 years old so that I could have a vast world to discover. I suppose I do have a vast world to discover though, don't I? It's not like I know everything. I suppose, when it comes to knowledge and wonder, Asha is to me as I am to Stephen Hawking. She might not understand basic physics yet but I don't understand spacetime.

Yesterday, we were eating supper and suddenly Asha said "I know how to write an "M". It goes up down up down. I thought maybe she had learned this at summer camp but she said she just thought of it in her head. How many times a day do I thoughtlessly write an "M" while Asha just discovered it for the first time! I suppose that's one of the fantastic things about being a parent. I get to discover the world all over again.

P.S. Breaking news - Asha now has an imaginary friend. Her name is Jenny and she has quite an elaborate back story and checkered past. She likes to play poker and her mom thinks she's a baby so she doesn't read chapter books with her. She has 2 younger sisters and 2 older brothers who live in New York City.She can only be seen and heard by Asha and although she is 4 years old she can easily be picked up and moved around by a same-aged peer. I'm hoping she will fulfill Asha's insatiable appetite for 4 year old company but I'm not holding my breath...

Preparing for lockdown

Well the fateful day has arrived. Yes, Carmageddon is upon us. What's that you say? You haven't heard about Carmageddon? Well you must not be within 100 miles of L.A. because it's all anyone will talk about around here! When I just signed into my yahoo.ca email account (that's .ca so it's Canadian!) it was actually one of the news items so I guess they're talking about it everywhere!

So, what is Carmageddon? Well, they are shutting down a 10 mile stretch of the 405 freeway this weekend and life as we know it is going to come to a screeching halt. This is a seriously momentous event which apparently NEVER happens. They are selling "I survived Carmageddon" shirts and I'm totally going to buy one because that's hilarious! The ramifications of this are expected to stretch across the entire city because all traffic will be rerouted (that's "re-rowted" not "re-rooted" as I would pronounce it with my Canuck accent) to the other roads. People are seriously not going to leave their homes all weekend. We have been invited over to our friends' house (who live down the street) on Saturday night because they are hunkering down and want some company.

Part of me is tempted to go for a drive to see what it's like. Maybe everyone will be so scared to drive that the streets will be deserted. Isn't it kind of a lovely idea? I have images of people rollerblading and skateboarding down the 405 (that's another wierd thing here - grown adults seem to skateboard. Seriously, I've seen several normal-looking 30's-ish men skateboarding.) People could set up block parties and lemonade stands and actually hang out together. Once when we went to Banff to go skiing there was a major accident on the way to the hill so all the cars were stuck for an hour or so. We all just sat there in our cars being grumpy. Well I decided to get out and build a snowman and David and I had a snowball fight and it ended up being super fun! People smiled out their car windows but no one joined us. Incidentally, David proposed to me that night so it was a pretty good day all around, even though we didn't ski much! Anyway, maybe that's what will happen this weekend. We will be forced out of our cars and into eachother's space. My inner pessimist is saying that people will probably just sit at home and watch TV. Hmm.

Needless to say, the folks here in L.A. LOVE their freeways and the 405 in particular. It bisects the city and connects the entire north end to the south. I've counted 14 lanes at one time but there might be more in some sections. The irony of it is that it is pretty much always backed up and is a giant pain in the ass. People say "405" means that you can go about 4 or 5 miles an hour most of the time. It's a big gamble because you can just take another road and know how long it will take to get to your destination or you can take the 405 and you might get there way faster or you might get stuck in a traffic jam. I was given the advice that I should always have food, water, and plenty of gas in my vehicle before getting on the 405, just in case. For real!!

David found out the other day that L.A. used to have a pretty decent public transit system of trolleys but they ripped them all out in the 40's to build the freeway system. Oops! Now the big thing is transit-oriented development and L.A. is significantly behind its sister cities of San Diego and San Francisco.

But the upside of this freeway madness is that people definitely know how to drive here and particularly how to merge. None of the hesitant mergers or oblivious drivers who don't open a spot for you to merge on a road like, say, the Whitemud!

Well I'm going to go and stock up on canned goods and drinking water now just in case the city implodes over the next 48 hours. Wish me luck!

How are you?

Happy 4th everyone! That seems to be what they say down here. Not "happy 4th of July" but "happy 4th!". As I am writing this it literally sounds like a warzone outside as the entire city has been setting off fireworks for over an hour! Asha and I watched some just down the street from our house. And I'm not talking about the hoky little fireworks that go about 3 feet in the air one at a time. These were serious starbursts that shot at least 100 feet in the air. These Americans sure know how to celebrate!

But that's not what I really planned to write about... How are you? I think it's very interesting how people respond to this question. I once wrote a paper in university about this. My hypothesis was that most people say "good" regardless of how they actually are and that when someone asks "how are you?" they don't actually care about your state of well-being. My prof didn't agree.

The reason that I'm thinking about this again is that I met a woman the other day and she seemed very nice. She's from LA but lives in India and her husband actually works in Bollywood! How interesting is that? The next few times I saw her whenever I would ask "how are you?" she would say "I'm hanging in there". What kind of thing is that to say? It's just such a negative response! Well when I actually spent some time with her I discovered that she is really friendly a quite a positive person.

On the same topic, one of David's classmates asked him how he was the other day and he said "fantastic" and she was so impressed! David also knew someone once who would give actual percentages in response to the question (as in "I'm about 65% today"). Unfortunately he was usually around 60% and never much more.

So I guess what I'm getting at is that I wonder how a person's response to this question reflects who they are to the world? I also wonder how it affects your own mood. Is it possible to "fake it till you make it" so that if you say you're great even if you're not you'll start to feel better? Hmmm.

817 Square Feet

Yup, you betcha... that's the size of our little L.A. house. When we started looking at places online I couldn't even visualize what a house that small would look like. Our house in Canada is more than twice that size plus a basement. Oh yeah, did I mention that our L.A. house doesn't have a basement!? I guess they don't need to worry about things like frost lines. Anyway, I digress...

The craziest part is that it turns out this house is the perfect size for our little family. Our girls share the big bedroom which they seem to love so far. Asha thought that sharing a room meant bunkbeds and was a bit bummed that her 9 month old sister was a bit young for that just yet (not to mention the fact that Asha is physically and/or mentally incapable of getting down from a top bunk). Essentially all of the rooms are a bit shrunk down but it turns out rooms don't need to be all that big. We all end up in the same room together all day anyway so we don't really need any more rooms.

When you have less room to work with you find yourself using what you have much more efficiently. I think those housebuilders in the 50's knew a thing or two about efficiency of space. There are built-in shelves and closets all over the place. It also helps that we had to fit all of our worldly possessions in a truck and trailer to come down here so we don't have much stuff! But really, how many slotted spoons did I need?

And the best part of it all? Less space to clean. It used to take me half an hour to sweep the floors and just when I would start to bask in my accomplishment I would think "dammit! the basement!". Not only is there now less space to clean but everything is pretty much always visible so I'm much less likely to leave dark corners piled with stuff.

So I hereby swear that I will never live in a house that is bigger than 1,000 sq feet again and I want you to hold me to that! I'm pretty sure I'll look back on this in oh about 13 years when I have at least 2 teenaged girls and laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of that. We'll see.

Those grumpy yanks

So you know how we Canadians pride ourselves on being friendly and kind, at the very least friendlier than those snotty, self-important Americans? Well, I hate to break it to you, people, but it's not the case! I have been shocked at how friendly people are here (excepting those whose job it is to be mildly friendly, i.e., bus drivers, library workers, etc.). Maybe it's all the sun that just makes people happier in general but people seriously stop me in the street to chat. It helps that I have adorable and precocious children, I must admit. For instance, Asha told a man at the Water and Power Board that he was her favourite kind of person because he had a big head and a big body. Luckily he thought it was funny. But even when David and I were in front of our house moving in furniture and the kids were inside, a neighbour (whose name was Odyssius if you can believe it) stopped to welcome us to the neighbourhood.

I think our views of our neighbours to the south are tainted by encountering them in situations like cruises and resorts. Not to offend those of you who like to go on cruises but they do tend to foster a certain sense of entitlement! I'm not sure yet what stereotypes about Canadians we may be reinforcing or busting. We didn't exactly live in an igloo but we did live in a log house in the woods. We also drive a pickup truck and actually let people in when driving. That's gotta set us apart. People may be friendly when walking through the neighbourhood but on the roads it's another story. I'm pretty sure even Odyssius would have honked at me and swerve around when I was slowly creeping along (at 40 mph in a 40 mpoh zone) looking for the post office!

OK, here we go!

Alright, I'm going to attempt this blog thing. I'm still not entirely sure how it works but I'm going to give it a try. Thanks to Marla who sent me the link to this site because I'm not sure I would have actually gone looking for it myself!

Well here we are in California! I feel as though I should start my blog with some sort of profound observation or something... Maybe I'll just start by saying that there are so many flowers here! My neighbour has calla lilies growing in the front yard! I guess I never thought about the fact that they would actually grow in nature and don't just magically appear in people's wedding bouquets!

Since I've started a bit of a flower theme to my post I will end with this quote:

"Die when I may, I want it to be said of me by those who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow" - Abraham Lincoln

I love that quote except for the fact that the thistle is a flower and I think it's quite pretty! When I told David and Asha this quote and my issue with the thistle part Asha said "I know! You could say poison ivy instead!". Brilliant!