This is my last official Canadian post! As of tomorrow morning we will *hopefully* be American residents!  Cross your fingers for us that all goes well at the border. I am so nervous.

Now, on to official business…

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Dear Avery,

I knew it was a very, VERY bad omen when you fell ill at lunch today, the day before we plan to start a 36 hour car trip which includes trying to obtain our visas at the border tomorrow.  I knew you truly felt awful and weren’t just playing, as evidenced by your tears and distress.  However, it was the first time I wanted to beg you to take it back, to tell you that you really weren’t sick, to threaten to cut your precious blankie into loonie-sized pieces if you didn’t STOP IT RIGHT AWAY.  I’m sorry, the stress ALMOST got to me.  Now, hours later, you seem to be feeling back to normal and I am cautiously optimistic that it was just a little blip on the radar. Please PLEASE don’t get sick until we get to Boston! I’M BEGGING YOU!

Desperately,
Your Mother

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Dear DVD Menu Designers,

Why does it take sooo long to navigate through the goddamn menus to get ANY movie playing?  When my kids wake me up at the freakin’ buttcrack of dawn all I want is TO GET THE MOTHER-EFFING MOVIE PLAYING NOW ALREADY! I do not have the time or energy to watch 48 movie previews and navigate 17 menus. You want a marketing tip? Create a DVD that can be playing the movie within ten seconds of insertion into the DVD player and requires no more than one button push! Even better? Create a DVD that will pop ITSELF into the player and hit play! YOU’RE WELCOME.

Sleepily,
One of Many Button Pushers

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Dear Mother of the Guy Who Wanted to Rent Our Condo,

I have to tell you, I was a bit concerned when our current tenants gave notice the day we arrived here in Saskatoon. I didn’t know if we’d be able to get our place rented out since we were looking for someone to start renting on September 1. It turns out the market here is so hot I could have stood on the front step and told the first passerby that we had an apartment for rent and that would have been all the advertising we needed.

I wanted to share this with you as you clearly don’t know how fast rentals get snapped up in this city. I also wanted to say thanks for confirming to me that renting to your son would have been a bad idea if for no other reason than that I would have been dealing with his Mommy all the time. Newsflash dearie, an 18 year old doesn’t need his Mommy to fight his battles for him and if you think yelling at prospective landlords for not renting to your PRESHUS BOY is going to get him (or you) anywhere, you are sorely mistaken. Also? I know you think your baby is really and truly special and I’m sure he is a lovely boy, but working at a part time job and diligently looking for a rental place for ten straight months hardly qualifies him for the Nobel Prize.  But don’t worry! At the rate you’re offending people, you’re likely to be keeping your little sunshine at home for a long, long time!

Disdainfully,
That Bitch Who Didn’t Rent the Condo to Your Baby

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Dear Boy Whose Mother Yelled at Me For Not Renting You the Condo,

Seriously? Grow some balls and cut the apron strings already!

With Pity,
A Friend

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Dear Prairies,

I’ve missed you! It was SO GOOD to be back.  It may be a while before we see each other again. I’m just glad I get to remember you the way you look now and not the way you look in January. No offense. But I think we both know the winters aren’t kind to you.  Anyway, I’ll be thinking of you. 

With Heartfelt Love,
A Prairie Girl

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Dear US Border Guards and NAFTA Visa Officers,

Be kind! I swear we’ve done everything short of sacrificing a lamb on an altar of US Dollars. We tried REALLY REALLY HARD to get everything right. Please, lets not be too nitpicky, ok?  We’ll be the ones travelling with two small and EXTREMELY TIRED AND CRANKY CHILDREN.

With Utmost Respect, Fear and Trembling,
A Hopeful Visa Recipient

PS-The 4kg of white powder is environmentally friendly laundry detergent. It didn’t occur to us that it might be ill-advised to show up at the border with big bags of white powder, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave it behind. It’s awesome!

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Dear “That Time of the Month”,

Impeccable timing, as always.

Riddled With Hormones,
A Dissatisfied Customer

I’m starting to feel that this holiday, as wonderful as it has been, is becoming a kind of exquisite torture for the kids.  Especially Kieran is having an increasingly hard time managing the running around from place to place, meeting endless bunches of new (to him) people and constant late nights.  He is loving it, but it is draining him much faster than a short night’s sleep can recharge. 

Today involved a lot of trying to comfort a cranky, tired child. And that was AFTER a two hour nap.  Poor child.  I feel bad for continuing to drag him out so much, but we are here for such a limited time and we want to spend time with so many people, I just can’t say no! I guess putting up with a miserable two-year-old is penance for my selfish behaviour.

Actually, no. I think three straight days of driving to Boston will be more than adequate punishment. I CAN’T WAIT!

There are so many things I want to be writing about these days but we have been so busy spending time with many wonderful people here in Saskatoon. It has been such a pleasure to spend time here at “home” before we make the transition to living in the states.  One more week to go!  

So instead of telling you about what I have been up to I felt it was of the utmost importance that I share a very useful home remedy with you all. I didn’t realize that so many people had no idea that duct tape could be used for wart treatment. People, I’m telling you it works like magic! Really SLOW magic.

Even doctors are recommending it these days.  A wart showed up on Avery’s foot this past year and I was just remembering all the hysterics hijinks involved in getting her immunizations and what kind of torture fun it would be to hold her down while a doctor froze off the offending wart.  I asked our pediatrician if it needed to be frozen and without skipping a beat he told me that he had been recommending duct tape to his patients. It’s not the first time I’d heard this and my husband had actually treated a wart on his own foot with duct tape so we tried it and VOILA! GONE!

Ok, it doesn’t actually work that fast. As I mentioned before, it takes patience. All you have to do is apply a generous piece of duct tape over the wart. That’s it.  Seriously. You just replace it when it starts to come off. I’m not sure exactly why it works (some have suggested it suffocates the wart - I didn’t know those little bastards had to breathe) but the end result is the wart disappears in 3-4 weeks with no pain!  If you’ve had warts frozen off as many times as I have, this will be welcome news. If the wart is particularly deep or large it may take longer to get rid of it but with patience and consistency, you are pretty much guaranteed a happy outcome. You’re welcome, internet!

Ok, none of these words actually rhyme with crazy. But they all capture the spirit of the Cray-zay that is my life right now.

Home: Driving from Winnipeg to Saskatoon today was truly enjoyable in a way it has never been before.  The main reason I’ve never appreciated it before is because it’s a nine hour drive with two little kids, people! WHAT’S TO LIKE?!!! I’ve never spent such a long time away from my beloved prairies. There is an adage that a Scotsman becomes twice as much a Scotsman when he is living away from Scotland. I have found this to be true. I have never loved the prairies as much as in the year I spent away from them. Entering the real open prairie today was like taking the first really deep breath I’ve taken in a long time. It’s so good to be home.

Drool: I got about 0.39 hours of sleep last night, for no really good reason. We got up at 5am to get an early start.  I am rarely able to sleep in the car but I surprised myself by falling into a deep, drool-inducing sleep, despite the fact that the kids were screaming in the back seat and the husband was mediating their disagreements with a calm and patient manner listening to the radio at approximately 380035794 decibels.

Chill: There is just no way for me to deny it any longer. I am so. on. edge. about the move. I am so anxious about crossing the border and getting our visas (not to mention the layers upon layers of subsequent details that have yet to be worked out - like where A PLACE TO LIVE, not that that is important, right?) that my stomach starts churning when I think about it. So I try not to think about it. But there’s no way I can ignore it as the 87 bazillion details involved in moving to the USA are closing in on us and there is just no way to deny their presence. But my powers of denial are simply not strong enough to keep reality from intruding! Damn it!  The bottom line is I have been a crazy bitch bit snappish to my dear husband who is the one who is working really hard to make this move go smoothly and to my poor kids who are innocent bystanders in this whole process.  Anxiety is all part of the process for me, but I need to quit taking it out on my family.

Cheerios: We are staying with some very good friends while we’re in Saskatoon for the next two weeks. And because of our poor impeccable timing, we arrived on the same day that they moved into a new house. They are gracious people and have welcomed us with open arms, despite the fact that we have arrived at the worst possible time. I attempted to make myself useful and help unpack the boxes with the kitchen stuff but instead of being a helpful friend, I have become the crazy friend who is unreasonably preoccupied with the fact that they had FOURTEEN BOXES OF CEREAL FOR TWO PEOPLE! FOURTEEN!!! Who eats that much cereal, or requires that much variety in breakfast cereal? That’s what my friends get for welcoming me into their home. Mockery on the internet.  But I’m so worth it!

Two: How did I forget how much “two” sucks? Kieran is so contrary and difficult right now. I mean, he’s still a generally pleasant little guy, but there have been way too many random shouts of “NO!” and screaming, just because it feels good, and hitting of his sister, and .  And WHY, for the love of all that is holy, will the child not swallow his food? I can get him to put nearly anything in his mouth but I’ll be damned if the little bugger won’t just swish the same bite of food around his mouth for hours, rather than admit defeat give in and swallow.  While I admire his tenacity, the two-year-old-stubborn-streak is not doing much to improve my mood lately.  The enfuriating thing is that I can reprimand, yell speak firmly and sternly, coax, coo and cry, but no matter what I do, the only thing that works is standing him in the corner for a time out.  Just the act of standing in the confined space of the corner seems to spur his saliva glands into action, almost instantaneously.  I’m considering locking him in a closet or a kitchen cupboard for his meals from now on.

My parents have a fairly new house. It was built almost 5 years ago now. It is lovely and modern and has room for us to visit for lengthy moderate short periods of time.  My mom is an excellent housekeeper and her house is always spotless. I hardly feel I should complain about this little issue we’ve been having since we arrived 2 weeks ago. 

Buuuut we all know I’m going to do it anyway so on with the show!  

There’s a little problem with spiders in the lovely, modern, finished basement, which is where we sleep.  The spiders have found a way into the basement from somewhere.  They typically show up in the bathroom and make their way towards the rest of the house from there. But they are not creeping in through the drains or anything like that. And I think they know we’re here, because the incidences of arachnocide have increased from about once per day when we arrived to about 3-4 times per day.  I’ve killed so many spiders I could be in my own horror movie.

Spiders are so insidious! There is never any warning that they’re coming. No buzzing, whirring or clicking. You just suddenly become aware of something creeping along beside your head while you’re in bed or around your toes when you step out of the shower.

I’ve never been really scared of spiders, but I’m definitely not a fan, by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve tried to keep my hatred of creepy crawlies to a vague disdain in order to keep Avery from losing her shit every time she sees one. But I have to say that, despite the fact that I keep calm, it is NOT WORKING.  She is terrified beyond all reason and stricken with the inability to control her vocal chords, every time a spider appears in her vicinity. She screams the blood curdling scream of a thousand bee stings, or a person soaked in gasoline and set afire. There is NO talking her down in her horrified state. Just the other night we were playing cards with my parents after the kids were in bed and she came flying up the stairs, pants around her ankles, shrieking that there is “A SPIDER! A SPIDER IN THE BATHROOM! MOMMEEEE!!!!! ASPIDERINTHEBATHROOMPLEASEKILLIT!!!”  

Now I have no doubt that running into a spider while you are in the middle of - erm - doing your “business” is traumatic. But what about the mother who has to talk you down, convince you to come back to basement bathroom and WIPE, and then look for a spider which, naturally, has now scuttled away to hide from the wailing banshee? Then I have to kill A DIFFERENT SPIDER that came to see what all the fuss was about, and then continue on with life, knowing that the original spider is STILL IN THE BATHROOM WAITING FOR ME!

Two small bites showed up on Avery’s neck this week.  I told her they were bites of some kind and when she asked what bit her I had to lie and say it was a mosquito, despite the fact that I know exactly what little bastards have been biting her. I just didn’t want to deal with the messy aftermath of telling her that spiders have likely been crawling all over her and nibbling on her while she sleeps. Because hello? I am very fond of sleep! And if I told her that spiders were not just hiding in the bathroom but had perhaps entered the sacred territory of her bed NONE OF US WOULD EVER SLEEP AGAIN!

I’m thinking it’s probably a good thing we’re leaving tomorrow. That and the fact that it’s been wet and cool here for the past two weeks. Tomorrow it’s supposed to warm up and dry out and we all know that in Manitoba that means that this week will mark the birthdays of millions and millions of baby mosquitoes! We love hanging out with my parents but I think we’ve had enough of the critters around here!

Haven’t posted pictures lately and I’ve been feeling a bit sluggish in the writing department so you get picture day, you lucky readers, you!

He’s just so TWO right now!

He recently discovered pockets and has decided they are the BEST. INVENTION. EVER. He constantly fills them with pebbles (his second favourite thing after pockets) and sometimes I fear his pants will fall off with the weight of his pockets full of treasures. (I also fear what will happen if I forget to check his pockets for stones before I put him down for a nap, but that’s a whole other story.)

Awwww.  Look how they express their love for each other hug and kiss when I make them do it for the sake of a photo.

When we were visiting my inlaws in Northern Ontario we enjoyed a lovely natural stream running beside the playground by their house. There’s nothing I love more than wading in a clean, critter-free stream, except maybe taking pictures of my daughter enjoying it.

Yeah, that was a good day.

After witnessing Avery throw two hissy fits in ten minutes (over the highly volatile issue of a barrette falling out) her daddy mumbles a comment about Girls! and Their Hormones! and That Time Of The Month!

“Honey,” I quipped, “If there’s one thing you should have learned after being married to me for eight years, it’s that hormones are NOT restricted to one specific day of the month.”

“Oh yes, they do have a particular time of the month,” he responds. “ALL OF IT.”

”If you’re not from the prairie,
You don’t know the wind,
You can’t know the wind.
Our cold winds of winter cut right to the core,
Hot summer wind devils can blow down the door.
As children we know when we play any game,
The wind will be there, yet we play just the same.
If you’re not from the prairie,
You don’t know the wind.”
-David Bouchard

I have to admit that I’ve both celebrated and lamented the lack of wind this past year in Ontario.  I told stories of the legendary prairie wind. And yet my memory started to dim after a while.

Being back on the prairies has jolted my memory. The last few days have been sooo windy.  I’d forgotten the fun of getting blown away every time I walk out the door. Or driving on the highway and the excitement of the constant interruption and subsequent gusts of wind when we drive by a row of trees or a semi or a group of large farm animals.  Take your eyes off the road to admire the scenery on a blustery day? Say hello to the ditch!

And yet, there’s something strangely familiar about this irritating and sometimes dangerous wind.  It feels like home.

This week I had the opportunity to bring the kids to visit my mom’s class of grade two and three students.  Kieran sat beside his sister looking dumbfounded. Avery enthusiastically answered a variety of questions from the students about where she is from and what her various “favourites” are.  When asked what she wants to be when she grows up (a question to which she usually has a very specific answer) she panicked and blurted out “A HOSPITAL!” (she normally says she wants to be “a doctor in a hospital who helps people get their babies” [an obstetrician]. And no, I have never specifically recommended medicine, or any other profession to her, for that matter.). It was THE HIGHLIGHT of my week. It makes me smile every time I think about it.

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We’ve been attempting to keep Avery from having a nap this week because she’s gotten into the bad habit of napping in the afternoon and sleeping less at night which results in her waking up at unholy hours in the morning. By the early afternoon yesterday she was soooo tired and melting down and after several scoldings and a time-out she was literally BEGGING me to let her have a nap! I know, right? 

I explained why we wanted her to stay awake but this only resulted in wailing and weeping. “PLEEEEEASE MOM-MMMMEEEEEE!!!  I just want to haa-aave a naaAAAAAAP!  I can’t k-k-keeeeep my eyes open anyMOOOOORE!!!!!” What kind of a monster would I be if I kept her awake?  A monster with one hell of an unhappy baby monster to pacify. That’s what.

Avery: 1
A Good Night’s Sleep: 0

I was looking through the local phone book for the number of a hairstylist as I wanted to get a haircut while I am living in the lap of luxury staying at my parents’ house.  I flipped to what could ostensibly called be called the “yellow pages” although they are actually pink and it’s more like page, not pages (Ok, maybe about half a dozen pages).  But I could find no entry under “hairstylist”  or “hairdresser” or “hair” or “salon” or even “beauty”, despite the fact that I know there are at least 3 hair salons in the small city close to where my parents live, and probably more.  

Since I am stubborn as a mule persistent, I started scanning through the yellow pink pages, line by line, searching for a synonym for hair stylist that I had forgotten. Unfortunately, I found none.  But I did find that we can all rest easy in the knowledge that Southern Manitoba has it’s priorities in order.  There is an entire category (with one entry) for cheese:

Isn’t that awesome? It totally made my day.

Oh, and I did eventually find the name of the hairdresser I was looking for in the regular listings. It only took me ten minutes to read the whole phone book.