23 posts tagged “friday forget-me-nots”

How I woke up this morning:

ReRe told me yesterday that if the baby doesn't know how to dance, then we'll have to dance and just pick her up and show her how. I asked him if that was how he had learned how to dance, and he said, no, he just knows how to dance. Duh. 

I've missed writing these for a few weeks, so let's see if I can stay focused long enough to catch up. 

For anyone else who is a fan of Little Mosque on the Prairie, I just saw Sheila MacCarthy (Sarah Hamoudi) shopping at Chapters in Etobicoke. Ok, onto other things.....

This week will definitely not be forgotten soon. The storm that came through South Mississauga last Saturday was short and violent, and we're just lucky no one was hurt. Our backyard, with our fallen maple and smashed play structure, became something of a tourist attraction, with at least 2 people actually bringing their cameras to take pictues of it (3, if you count the tree removal guys, but I assume for them it was work-related). It took 3 guys 3 days to remove the tree and playhouse and swings. Getalife has promised ReRe a bigger, better playhouse, which seems to have assuaged his fear and sadness. A couple times this week, he did tell me that it made him sad, but he also had lots of fun watching the guys with chainsaws and ladders and ropes and a wood chipper dealing with the tree removal. The maple had to be taken down entirely, and has left a gaping hole in our backyard, and we were very sad to see it go.

So while my husband has lived in Canada for 20 years now, every once in a while we'll come across something that is totally normal to me, and completely foreign to him. This week, it was the concept of "If it is left on the street/sidewalk/end of the driveway, anyone can take it". We don't burn wood in our fireplace, so we had A LOT of potential firewood to get rid of. Getalife told the tree removal people to just take it away; I told them to dump it in the ditch, so that if anyone wanted it, they could take it. Getalife wasn't happy about this, thinking it was going to sit there forever; I assured him it would be done within a few days. As soon as the wood started piling up, we had neighbours knocking on the door, asking if they could have some. Then came the strangers. Finally, yesterday, a pick-up truck with a trailer attached to it pulled up, four people piled out, with their work gloves and boots on, and they loaded up and left with the rest of it. Getalife stared out the window in disbelief, still not convinced that this was an indication of my prediction coming true. He still feels a little weird about it.

I am very happy to say that the swimming lessons, which ReRe didn't want to go to, quickly became something he looked forward to as soon as he was up in the morning. I think it was the fun of being with the other boys in the pool, but also a certain swim instructor, I think ReRe officially had his first crush. Whatever it was, he ended his first two weeks successfully, and actually got his first swimming badge. This took me completely by surprise, as I had registered him for the next two weeks in the same level. They said it was fine for him to stay in that class, they'll just let him do things at the next level.

He came home with the badge yesterday, and showed it to his Dad. Getalife was also totally surprised, and very pleased. ReRe said, "Daddy, can I have a treat?" and Getalife said, "Honey, you can have whatever you like. And someday you will bring home a report card with straight A's, and I'll buy you a Porsche." ReRe looked down at his badge, then looked up at Getalife and said, "so what about that treat?". A bird in the hand.   

me: "Stop kicking the baby."

ReRe: "I'm just checking to make sure the baby is ok. With my foot."

ReRe: "When the baby comes, we have to protect her from the fox!"

me: "OK honey."

ReRe: "So when you hear the fox coming, put the baby in your pocket so the fox can't get her. So always wear jeans with pockets."

The last few times when I've come home from business trips (that aren't more than 1-2 days) ReRe has said, "Mummy! You came back!!" Did he really think I was GONE gone? Was he worried about me? Was he scared I'd never come back? Or is he just messing with me?

This morning, ReRe crawled into Getalife's side of the bed, and when Getalife got our of bed to take a shower, ReRe rolled over, saw me, and said "Mummy, we're back together!!"

After whining all morning about why his father had had to go to work, ReRe told me, quite earnestly, that he was really proud that Daddy went to work. Whaaaaat? Where did that come from? Does he really understand what being proud means? Or was he just repeating something he had heard someone say? I know I didn't say anything about this, since if one day Getalife isn't working, or I'm between contracts or whatever, I don't want ReRe to be un-proud of us.

I'm hoping he's just parroting stuff, cuz this sort of emotional complexity is a bit much for me right now. The other day ReRe had a melt down at the drug store, and I asked him if he had had a nap at school, and he told me no, and I thought, "SWEET! He's tired! Not having an existential crisis. Excellent." So much easier to deal with.

ReRe: "Hey mummy, is my birthday coming down?"

me: "???"

ReRe: "No, my birthday is coming UP!"

The other day I found ReRe with his container of moisturizer, sitting on his rocking chair, rubbing it into his legs. Not to state the obvious, I asked him what he was doing. He said he had to moisturize his legs so they would be beautiful, because now they are turning grey. M'kay.

The other morning, sitting at the breakfast table, ReRe reached out a yoghurt covered hand to touch my knee. I was wearing leggings at the time. I said "Don't get yoghurt on my pants." He said, "Mummy, those aren't pants."

Diego has been usurped by "Madagascar". I didn't think anything could make me miss Diego, but I have to say some of the language is totally inappropriate. Like when the Zebra is informed that the thermometer in his mouth is a rectal thermometer, he yells "Mother!". Really, people? Anyway, it is mostly a pretty cute film, but ReRe is now always telling me that the wolves are coming to eat us. This was reinforced by reading a "classic" version of Little Red Riding Hood (in which the Wolf has a bottle of HP Sauce in his pocket). The other day at dinner he was looking out the window asking me if the wolves were coming. I looked out the window, and seeing the neighbour's husky dog wandering around, said "Yes, they're right there." ReRe didn't blink for a whole minute. Then the neighbour opened his door and let the dog inside. ReRe asked where the wolf went. I said, "into Ian's house." "What's he doing in there?" "Hmm, not sure. What do you think he is doing?" ReRe didn't answer.

"There was a farmer had a dog and Mingo was his name-o! ME-I-N-G-O! ME-I-N-G-O!...."

Lately, if ReRe asks me for something, and I say no, he feins disappointment, and says "but I love it." Like this morning, he put his arms up to be carried downstairs and said, "Up-up mummy!". I said no, and he looked at the floor with dejection, and said "But I love up-ups." So, ya, he got carried downstairs. That plink-plink sound is him playing my heartstrings.

So thanks to Junkii's Earworm Wednesday, my earworm from earlier this week has stuck with me. It's 'Happy Ending', by Mika, and it was stuck in my head because it was featured on the season finale of So You Think You Can Dance Canada. I was playing the song the other day, since the song wasn't going away and I wanted the earworm to get the words right, and ReRe picked up the CD cover, and stood completely still, mezmerized by the CD cover art and the song. At the end of it, he looked at me and very quietly said "again, mummy." So I played the song again, and he again stood stock still for the entire song. Since then, he's asked to hear it a few more times, like this morning over breakfast, where he sat for four minutes, with his yoghurt halfway to his mouth. I'm glad that he finds music to be so interesting and engaging, but at times his reaction can be a little eerie.

Names ReRe has used to refer to me this past week: mom, mummy, wifey, margot, muggs, muggsy.

Phrase I'm trying to wipe from his repertoire: Oh My God. He's not only saying it, he's using it properly in context. I've been trying to get certain other people to stop saying it around him, until I saw him faking a foot injury, and hobbling into his bedroom, saying "Oh....my....God.....I...can't......walk". Ya, that's all me. Freaking ankle.

Phrase I'm trying to replace it with: Oh Snap.

Things we didn't do this week: go to see Santa. I had signed ReRe up to go for a storytime with Santa thing at a local mall, and he was in tears about having to go, so we didn't go. When I asked him why he didn't want to see Santa, he said it was because he was big now, and Santa only liked him when he was a baby. I tried to find the source of this assumption, but have yet to figure it out.