Something to Brighten Your Day

I know that when you think of things that might brighten an otherwise drab or nondescript day, a terribly sad and disturbed baby face doesn't immediately come to mind. Unicorns and puppies MAYBE, but babies with obviously sad and/or angry eyebrows? Not usually. Conventional wisdom aside, though... is Lily cute or WHAT??!


Wednesday has affectionately dubbed this photo the "You're Not My Parents!" look. I love it. And lest you think she was one giant cranky pants on her first birthday, check out the raw, unfiltered, and unadulterated delight she exudes when discovering that the pyramid of rainbow-coloured plastic donuts is, indeed, being gifted to her:


(chin disappears into back-up chin and neck) We should all have something in this world that causes this much excitement/chins! Something to reflect upon... You may resume your regular activities now.

Wednesday, Wednesday

The abridged life story of my middle sister, Wednesday:

1. Born in 1983; very soon overshadows me (her older sister by 20 months) in size, smarts, and cool factor.

2. Never one to be put in a box-- resists boxiness in all incarnations: cribs, stereotypes, sweaters that are too short and too wide at the same time, 80s haircuts, etc.

3. Some time in between elementary and junior high school, grows 5 (or 6 or 7) vertical inches but stays the same weight. Describes her new figure good-naturedly as a "ruler with apples on the front"; incurs silent admiration mixed with envy from her shorter, more curvaceous sisters.

4. Does not play "The Game". Wears everything from camera film to plastic farm animals in her hair, accepts an award for Highest Standing student at school wearing a grey 50s maid outfit and pink rubber gloves up to her elbows, and delivers a scathing (yet incredibly perceptive) critique of the junior high experience in her final project: while everyone else is writing yearbook-esque poems about 'never losing touch' and 'having a great time!', she delivers a mock Teen magazine cover with the headliner: "QUIZ: ARE YOU NORMAL?" Touche.

5. Decides to pursue a Fibre degree in art college. Finds her element.


6. Continues to make her older sister proud, amused, amazed, envious, and sometimes even a little bit horrified (but only when her outfits incorporate neon yellow and/or appliqued cat images. The above image does NOT fall into the 'making her older sister horrified' category. I love the Christmas-esque 80s workout attire. LOVE IT!)

Happy 25th birthday, Wednesday! I love you so much.

xo, li'l bro!

Time Goes By/So Slowly

Oh, who am I kidding? One day, our little chops (or 'Chopz', as we like to call her- it's more festive that way) was resting peacefully in her incubator, a mere 4 and some pounds:


Then I blinked and it was her first birthday!

Rockin' the birthday suit for her first birthday! February 08, 2008

I have to say, she is an incredible little girl (even though the total time I have spent in her company still adds up to less than 12 hours). She is clever, a little bit devious (just like her mom!), gorgeous, and most importantly: healthy and happy. I wish she would have bared her actual chops for some photos during our drive-by visit... but no go. I am thrilled to bits that she sports a GIANT space in between her two front teeth-- at latest check, a whole two nickels worth! Aw... that means she's family!

Happy birthday, Lily! Go, C-H-O-P-Z!!!

Checking In

Well, I've officially learned that I find it much easier to blog when I am bitching and moaning about something. I've had it pretty good for the last month and a bit, so lo and behold-- the blog, she suffered. I've had nothing to complain about, really-- my job is going very well (I love counting money!), Marty's paintings have started selling by the dozen here in Victoria (finally!), I've been meeting lots of great people who are inspiring me to write (though not to blog, apparently), and guess who I get to see this weekend?



Lil-Star!! I haven't seen her in the flesh since she was a 'hefty' six pounds and a month old! Now she's god-knows-how-many-pounds and just celebrated her 8 month birthday! So this weekend I get a whole blissful day in Calgary/Canmore and then it's back to counting money in Victoria. I CAN'T WAIT!!


If this is not inspiration to knit, I don't know WHAT is! My sister says that Lily likes the Lil Devil Hat because she can pull the straps down over her eyes and sneak in naps clandestinely. Right... so inconspicuous! (But SO CUTE!!!)

Flowers Gratefully Declined...

Well, in future posts, should I be remembering the loss of a loved one, I'll remember to put the date of death in BIG BOLD LETTERS so that I won't confuse anyone! Thank you to everyone who commented, e-mailed, and phoned me with condolences yesterday for the passing of my Baba... she actually passed away last year on August 15th, though-- not yesterday. Heheh! [she laughs nervously, like a proverbial boy after having cried wolf]. Like I say, I'll make sure to make that more clear if I ever post something similar!

My dearest Baba passed away last year when I was in Europe. It was such an alienating experience, because on one hand, I felt so far away, lonely, and disconnected, but on the other hand, I didn't feel I had the right to be upset over her death, seeing as she had suffered long enough in a nursing home before finally passing away. We tried hard in the Czech Republic to gain a sense of closure around her death-- Marty took me to a beautiful convent and we admired the beauty of it while reminiscing about my Baba. However, because we moved to Victoria soon after coming back from Europe, I still have not had the chance to visit her gravesite, and a small part of me still feels unsettled because of it. One day, I guess.

Missing You (Edited for Clarity)

Baba
October 7, 1919- August 15, 2006

Isn't She Lovely?

How cute is she??






...I know- quite cute! Happy (belated) Mother's Day to all the mothers out there, and a great big smooch to the aunts and uncles of the world as well! xoxo

Note to Self: The Apple Really Doesn't Fall Far

You know when you're growing up, and people say 'oh, you look so much like your mother!', or 'oh, you must get that trait from your father'? Well, today I did something rather spontaneous and right away thought to myself, 'wow- that was so much like my mother!'


My mother has one of those uber-maxed-out magnetic personalities that people seem to either be really attracted to or really repelled by. (Kind of like those industrial magnets that you can't unstick with simple human strength when they come together. Or the ones that fly out of your fingers when you try to make the repelling sides meet.) I don't know why there is no happy medium with my mother, but I like to think that the few people who don't click with her just don't understand her. It's their loss, really-- nobody I know is as fun or dynamic as my ma.

Anyway. Yesterday (Tuesday) I was asked at my job to prepare an impromptu 'rally' (that was the actual word that was used in the request) to send off a cyclist who will be biking across Canada to raise money and awareness for a good cause. Fine. Except this well-attended and media-saturated rally was supposed to take place today-- Wednesday-- at 10 in the morning. Right... Because I know a good 50 or 100 people who can just automatically drop their plans or skip out of work/school on a moment's notice to come attend some random rally. Not to mention my best friend the news anchor. And the high-profile journalist. BFF. 'Sure thing, folks at National Office. I'll get right on it.'

I felt bad for the cyclist, knowing he had been told back in Nova Scotia (where he's from) that we would have a big hoopla event waiting for him at Mile Zero. The thing is, I would totally have prepared some big thing for him, but (and this is a rather big 'but') I would have needed more than 19 hours to do it in. Just saying. So I did what I could: I wrangled up a board member, two volunteers, and a friend of a volunteer to come out for a more 'intimate' send-off ('rally' would definitely be the wrong word to use in this case!)

We congregated this morning at around 10 am and waited for the cyclist to show up (thank goodness he did, or his sorry ass would have been kicked all the way back to New Waterford!!) We felt pretty pathetic, shuffling our heels and apologizing to each other for having such a lame five-person send-off. Then, like Q-Tips creeping out of the medicine cabinet, we saw them: a good twenty elderly women, most of them decked out in those (totally happening!) boxy sunglasses that can be worn over the regular glasses (you know the ones I'm talking about). They all came toward us, and then they huddled around the Mile 0 marker, waiting to have their group photo taken!

It turns out they were part of a 'Widow's Walking Group' (and in case you were wondering, no- YCMTSU!). They just happened to be meeting at Mile 0 at the same time we were there to go on their weekly walk. Well... that's when my mother's genes kicked in. I boldly introduced myself, said a few moving words about what a great cause we were supporting today, asked them to hold our agency banner and to pose in front of the marker (it was more like placing the banner in their hands as I rambled on about our agency and this bike tour I knew nothing about!), and then I wheeled the cyclist in front of the perturbed bunch. A few snaps of the digital camera later- et voila! We had a well-attended (if not a media-saturated) send-off event!


If anybody from Calgary had seen me in action this morning, I know exactly what they would have said: "that was totally something your mom would do!" And I would have felt proud. 'Yeah, it was.'

Birthday Buzz

Today is my youngest sister's 21st birthday. As I was flipping through some old photo albums and trying to find some embarrassing photos of her to post for the occasion, I got to thinking about a particular idiosyncracy in (about?) the way my family celebrates birthdays.

It's been a while since all of us have been together to mark a birthday, but one thing we usually did when we lived in the same place was to seek out the worst possible cake from Dairy Queen to bring home with whoever's-birthday-it-was name on it. I don't know how the tradition started, or why, but I do know that I miss feeling that rush of delightful wickedness while asking some unfortunate employee to write one of my sister's names out in the most awful of loopy cursive. 'Yes, yes! Can you put a heart over the 'i'? And can you make that 'D' a little more juvenile? It's too legible right now.' (The L. family seems to be genetically programmed to appreciate the inherent humour of teenage cursive. The more dots, loops, and hearts, the better! Maybe it's just us.)

Anyway, since the tradition of cutesy cake giving was rather short-lived, I have only a few photos of nasty ice cream concoctions to share. Luckily, the cream of the crop (so to speak) just happened to be for one of Caroline's birthdays (pictured below). It was originally intended to be a Mother's Day cake, as evidenced by the giant "MOM" scrawled underneath that beaming rendition of a woman resembling Sally Forth (sans black shaggy 80s comic book hair, of course). We got the employee to wipe off the two 'm's and to write Caroline's name on either side of the leftover 'o'. You could (and still can) see the blue smudges from the 'm's underneath, so the employee covered it with sprinkles to disguise the botched icing name job. Sweet.

It's the gift that keeps on giving! Happy birthday, Gare! (PS: Nice red pearl necklace!)

Family Ties

My mom's family is huge. She has six brothers and sisters, and all of them have about 3 children of their own. That's a lot of cousins!

Growing up, we spent a lot of time with the family. Nearly every weekend I can remember from my childhood, we were doing something or other with a group of cousins. Setting up mattresses and 'satin' sheets on a set of stairs and careening down in laundry baskets. Playing Bubble Bobble on the computer until we were hallucinating tiny dragons and fluorescent green bubbles. Listening to the New Kids on the Block and twisting Barbies into obscene positions. That kind of stuff. I knew the ins and outs of my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, and my cousins, and life was good.

Now that I'm an aunt myself, I have very mixed feelings about being so far away from my new niece. Mostly I'm disappointed that I can't be an integral part of Lily's life as she grows up. But then I think to myself that I would hardly even get to see her if I lived in Calgary still. I don't drive, and my sister lives in Canmore, so I would only get to see them occasionally anyway. Plus, being in Victoria helps me cherish each and every little thing I see or hear about Lily. Take, for instance, these photos:





Too cute!!

Quickie

Hey everyone:

Just letting you know that Marty and I will be trying to dodge mudslides and highway washouts in our mouldy van tomorrow. My sister's baby shower is on Saturday evening, and we're hoping to make it to Calgary safe and sound for the big event.

I'll be back on Sunday-ish with updates and such. Enjoy your weekend!

xoxo

Today is the Greatest

Guess who gets to go home today? A whole month early!!

Our little Lily!

Tiger Lily

So it's been a while since I've talked about Lily. It's not that there's nothing to report-- not at all. I've just been saving up all of the news for a giant post extravaganza! (If by 'giant' I mean 'a few paragraphs' and by 'extravaganza' I mean 'one measly post'....) Anyway, for those of you who have been wondering about her:

Lily April-- almost 3 days old

She is still in the hospital getting bigger and stronger, and she was moved out of the incubator just recently into a little bed! I call her Tiger Lily now, because from what I hear, she's pretty intense (in a good way, of course). She insists on sleeping on her stomach, and if the nurses put her on her back, she'll roll herself over into her favourite sleeping position (and for those of you who don't know, that's quite an accomplishment for a 3 lb baby!)


She has been getting fed breast milk directly through a tube in her nose, but she has been building up to the 'real thing' for a while now. Previously, my family was able to offer her Q-tips soaked in my sister's milk, and little Lily would lap it up like a kitten until every last possible drop was gone. (My middle sister said Lily loved it so much, it seemed like she would even chew the cotton right off the stick if it meant getting another little drop into her mouth! CUTE!!) Anyway, this past weekend, she tried out 'real' breastfeeding for the first time and was a natural at it, some might even say a pro!


If she continues to progress as quickly as she has been, she might be able to go home earlier than expected (so some time in March rather than mid-April).


I (finally) get to see her in mid-March, when we come into Calgary for a belated baby shower. I can't wait to finally meet my little niece, and I also can't wait to get some pictures of her! Sadly, neither of my sisters own a digital camera, so the pictures so far have been few and far between. I promise that will change when I come into town!

The Age of Aquarius

So today is the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius, I mean my sista's birthday. No, not the youngest one-- the other one.

Me 'n' Miss Ashley Wednesday

Wednesday is one of the most brilliant and sensitive people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She is dynamic, intense, and excels at everything she does to the point where I continually have to praise god that she is not my older sister. I could never live up!


I have no doubt that she will be among the people who radically transform our world for the better. Just you wait, dear readers. At least now you can claim that you know her, too. Sorta.


Happy birthday, Windy! (unfortunate nickname) I love you. xoxo

The Latest on Lily

After weathering a(nother) power outage, I'm back with another update on our little PeaPod!


My sister was discharged from the hospital in Great Falls and was flown back to Calgary last night with little Lily in an incubator. Lily will still need some time in the hospital to grow bigger and stronger, but luckily her level of care has been downgraded from intensive to just regular preemie care (I'm sure there's a technical name for her level of care, but obviously I don't know what it is!).


We are so thankful to everybody who has offered their support during this whole ordeal. A special thanks goes out to all of the people who are getting involved in knitting the PeaPod Collection at Make One Yarn Studio (it sounds so exclusive and designer!). It just warms my heart to know that so many people will be helping my sister and her partner get a good start at being parents. This means so much to me and my family. Thank you.

Princess Pea!

PEAPOD IS A GIRL!!!!

My sister went into labour last night, shortly after her partner walked into the room. Then, this morning at 6:34 am, she gave birth to Lily April via cesarean section!

Lily weighs 3lbs, 4 oz and is breathing on her own. She is still hooked up to a feeding tube, but she is strong, healthy, and beautiful otherwise (from what I hear-- I haven't seen her yet!)

I'll post again later on today, but for now I need to nap. Man, this whole being an aunt thing is exhausting!


xo

You Can't Make This (Bishop) Up

This special “Pre-Reading Week” edition of YCMTSU will come in two posts and is dedicated to all of my friends in school. Do you ever feel like what you’re writing is meaningless dribble? Does it seem like your essays or assignments can’t get any worse? Are you convinced that you’re the most awful student in the history of academia? Well, my dear friends, I’m here to tell you not to worry. Although you might feel frustrated and disillusioned at times, you are far from the pits. In fact, I happen to have in my possession the official Worst Essay of All Time. I like to call it: The Bishop Essay.

Before I include it for your reading pleasure (in tomorrow’s post, btw), I’d like to provide some contextual information about it. I wrote it back in Grade 7 for a Religious Studies assignment (perhaps this brings back fond memories, Dustin?). The assignment was to write a 2-page essay about bishops, and most of the students in my class promptly called up their local diocese and set an appointment to speak with a pastor about all things bishop-related. These students put a ton of work into their essays, and they included detailed analyses of the symbolism of bishops’ regalia, ceremonial duties, and so forth. Me, I asked my Baba what our bishop’s name was, and I tried (rather halfheartedly, I might add) to fudge the rest (double-spaced, and in 18-pt font).

Well, the best stories are those that have a bit of a twist to them. In this case, my Grade 7 teacher wasn’t stupid. She knew that in the scope of life, a mark on a tiny Grade 7 Religion project—low or high—wouldn’t matter so much. She also knew, though, that the scars from pre-teen humiliation can last for a lifetime. So… she announced to the class that only one paper had been given a perfect score. Only one. The catch: the person with the perfect score would have to read their paper out loud to the rest of the class.

No big deal, right? Except that the perfectly scored paper was mine—my crappy 10-minute paper in 18-point font—and I had to read it to all of the people who had put hours of blood, sweat, and tears into theirs.

My teacher wasn’t stupid, indeed. I’m sure she sat back with a gleeful smile on her face and watched me shrink in front of my peers, reading out my horrendously vague yet overdramatic Bishop Essay. I’m lucky I survived the bike racks after school that day…

To this day, whenever I feel like things in school can’t get any lower, I ask myself: “Is this worse than the Bishop Essay experience?” and the answer is always ‘no’. In turn, dear readers, if you ever feel like you’re signing your name to the worst piece of writing ever, I invite you to compare it to the Bishop Essay. You might be surprised...

In tomorrow’s post: The Bishop Essay!

PeaPod update: I guess when my sister’s water broke, I expected PeaPod to come whooshing out like a white water rafter or something. Obviously, I don’t have much experience in the birthing room! PeaPod is still in utero, and if s/he can hang in there for another week or so (which apparently is possible. And safe! Who knew?), there is the distinct possibility that my sister can be flown back to Calgary and be induced back home! Going back to Calgary is what my sister wants more than anything right now (healthy baby prayers aside), so please keep your fingers, toes, eyes, etc. crossed for that outcome. Thanks!

The Pod herself, circa 1988

Update: The Pea is Still in the Pod

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of their kind words and support during this time. I am touched by the thoughtfulness and generosity of everybody from friends to strangers, and it gives me hope to know how many people are rooting for my sister and PeaPod!


I'll be updating the blog with new developments as they become available, so stay tuned to hear the latest on PeaPod, the preemie cap knit-a-long (thanks for posting about it, Terra!), and the (very informal) gas money blog-a-thon ($25 and counting-- huzzah!!).


And now, for something completely different:


I feel like I accidentally applied to work for the CIA or FBI (what are the Canadian equivalents of these? The RCMP? Haha- yeah right.) Yesterday I had my fourth interview for a position at a local clinic, and I can't help but feel that four interviews-- for any position-- is a little excessive... I have spoken to four different people now, but I have been asked pretty much the same questions. Are they checking for consistency in my answers? Is this a test? When can I get hooked up to the lie detector machine?


Q: Did you ride your bike to the interview?
A: Yes
Q: Do you ever ride on busy roads?
A: I try to avoid them if possible--
DING DING DING DING! THAT'S A LIE!!!! I SAW YOU RIDING ON A BUSY ROAD JUST 10 MINUTES AGO!!!


Oooh, busted.


Anyway, I *supposedly* find out in the next few days whether or not this coveted top-secret position is mine. If I get it, I guess I'll have to mysteriously delete this post so nobody can find out about my cunning alter-ego (e.g. 'I may look like a simple clinic staffer, but in secret, I'm actually GUARDING THE QUEEN'S CROWN JEWELS!!!'). If I get passed up for it, though, I'll have to reassess the merits of poly-blend interview tops and the whole 'four interviews' process in general...


At what point do you say 'you know what? Forget about it. Unless you feel like paying me, I don't think I'll come around for the nth interview.' I was so excited to go to the first, and even the second, interview. The job itself still excites me, but after so many interviews about the same trivial things (e.g. 'Yup. I'm still a non-smoker!'), the novelty of the situation is wearing off big time.


Wish me luck nonetheless. God knows I have better things to do with my time than make up conspiracy theories for every clinic in the city!

What a Difference a Day Makes

(Follow this link and listen to the song while you read the post!)

This weekend proved to be different than most.

I mentioned a few posts ago that I was going to be a first-time aunt in April. Well, PeaPod (as my sister’s in utero baby is affectionately known) decided that it would be better if I became an aunt right. now. My sister’s water broke on Friday evening—two and a half full months before her due date—and what followed was a laundry list from anybody’s worst nightmare.

My sister’s pregnancy is considered high risk, because she is at a higher risk for blood clots than the ordinary pregnant woman (we can thank Ortho Jansen and her brand of birth control pills for that). She needs special care in the delivery room, mainly to make sure she doesn’t bleed too much from her blood-thinning injections during birth. Anyway, it turned out that the special care she needed wasn’t available in Calgary when the water broke. Unfortunately, it also wasn’t available in Edmonton, Regina, Saskatoon, Vancouver, or Victoria. Hence, she had to be flown via air ambulance to the nearest hospital with the appropriate facilities—in Great Falls, Montana. Montana!!

My sister’s partner was ready to make the journey with her, but he was denied the opportunity because he doesn’t have a passport. (New US border laws require anybody flying across to carry a passport.) So. She made the flight by herself, scared nearly to death, while her partner made plans to drive to Montana the next day.

She landed safe and sound, and so far, it looks like her and PeaPod are doing OK. Her labour will have to be induced by the end of this week, and after she gives birth, she will probably need to stay in the hospital until PeaPod is strong and healthy enough to make the flight home. This means that she can expect to stay in the hospital until her regular due date—April 14—at a minimum. I don’t care who you are—that’s a long time to spend in a hospital, and it’s a long time to be away from your friends and family, too.

I’m grateful that a system is in place to get women who go into labour prematurely the medical care they require, even if it means transporting them to another hospital. However, my heart breaks when I hear how scared and alone my sister feels. My mother is with her now, but my sister’s partner, friends, and the rest of her family will only be able to make weekend trips to be with her, if that.

I spent the weekend knitting my first ever preemie caps and a log cabin preemie blanket to send with my sister’s partner on his next trip down. In the meantime, I’d appreciate any and all of the support you can offer. I trust that this situation will have a positive outcome for everybody involved, but it’s a bit frightening for the time being.

How to Help Out:

• Keep my sister and PeaPod in your thoughts and prayers (thanks so much to everyone who is already doing this!)
• Consider using your soft scrap yarn for preemie caps and/or blankets. Most hospitals accept donations of knitted items on an ongoing basis. This site has some basic instructions and sizing guidelines for caps. Basically, caps should be knit to fit an orange or your clenched fist.
• For the results-oriented, instant-gratification types out there, contact me to arrange cash donations for gas money, hotel costs, and other expenses in Great Falls, Montana. Money is tight for expectant couples of all sorts, and this case is no exception.