I’m learnding!

Things I have learned recently, in no particular order (and of no particular significance):

• I’m not ready for Girl Child #2 to be 1.  This is unfortunate, because her birthday is in 3.5 weeks
• Girl Child #1 can still wear a 3T or 4T in the waist, despite needing a 6 or 7 in length.  Back-to-school shopping has been an exercise in frustration
• The real reason I like shopping second-hand is that I get to simultaneously be cheap and an unapologetic label snob
• At least one of the cats will puke at least once a day
• HRSDC makes requesting skills training as difficult and off-putting as possible, the bastards
• My father-in-law makes a poor Simpsons character
• Sleeping on an air mattress for a week does favours for neither one’s marriage nor one’s back
• I should check my jewellery box before spending weeks passive-aggressively accusing The Cap’n of losing my moonstone ring
• Tori Amos isn’t as great as I remember her being.  There.  I said it
• Ragin’ Ranch chips are crackalicious
• I can cut my own hair just fine, as long as I don’t mind looking like an escaped mental patient with a penchant for lawnmowers

Places unknown

The Cap’n has been greenlighted to relocate.  Someone hold me.

Going West

After a lot of soul-searching and some ugly crying on my end (goodness, you’ve never seen such snot), the Cap’n and I have decided to haul our family off to the wilds of Saskatchewan.  I have no idea what we’re thinking.  Saskatchewan is far away.  And flat.  And it gets really, really cold there in the winter.  And it’s flat.  Did I mention that it’s FLAT?  On the other hand, housing is dirt cheap in most of the province.  Okay, that’s the really the only thing that Saskatchewan has going for it.  That, and the only remaining team of Roughriders in the CFL.

I don’t even know what people do in small-town Saskatchewan.  Is the 4H Club even still a thing?  Is it a thing that people do in real life?  I don’t know.  I’m a city girl, always have been.  Unfortunately, being a city girl is really expensive these days and I’ve reached that point in every woman’s life where I develop certain urges… like equity and being able to paint my house whatever colour I want.  Renting just isn’t cutting it anymore, especially not when I consider the horrors of things like bedbugs.  Bedbugs!  I always thought they were some sort of medieval demon-myth to scare people into better hygiene.  The fact that they’re real and I know neighbours who have had them chills me.  So there’s another point in favour of rural Saskatchewan: probably not many bedbugs.

I’m a little worried about the availability of good food, though.  I’ve long considered good food to be the hallmark of civilization.  Where will I find pho and dosas, shawarma and saag paneer?  I can’t live life without good veggie sushi.  Well, I suppose I could, but it would be a pale, colourless sort of existence.  There’s a certain amount of gari I need to ingest every month to function.  It’s true.

Music is another concern of mine.  I doubt I’m going to be within a reasonable drive of the sorts of little clubs I love.  The ones where I can go and hear darling little indie bands who are making music I’ll fall in love with for a few months.  I also insisted we push back the move to January just so I wouldn’t have to miss Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds in October.  They’re sure as hell not going to be playing in Saskatchewan.  Of course, I probably won’t run into those assholes from The Most Serene Republic as often in the prairies, either.  We’re up to four points in Saskatchewan’s favour.

Of course, my gravest concern is how we’re going to physically move two adults, two children, three cats, a rabbit, a goldfish and a house full of stuff two provinces away. In January.  Just the thought of trying to stuff the cats and rabbit into their respective carriers makes me want a stiff gin and tonic.

Six months, eh?

According to WordPress, I’ve been a member here for six months.  Given that this is only my seventh post, I might want to consider stepping things up.

I’ll Think Of A Title Later

Girl Child #1 went to my parents’ house last night for a sleepover.  Glorious.

For reasons I can’t explain, but possibly owing to catastrophic brain failure, I asked The Cap’n to pick me up a tea from Tim Horton’s on his way home from the bank.  Why?  The tea I have at home is infinitely better in quality.  Plugging in the kettle is hardly a laborious process.  Have I become that lazy?

Now that I’m employed like a sucker, I have to go buy myself some “business casual” clothes, on account of my wardrobe leaning heavily toward “baby-food-stained casual”.  I think I was pregnant the last time I bought new clothes for myself.  I also plan to use this opportunity to go the the Bulk Barn and buy myself secret candy, which should necessitate me buying newer, larger clothes in a few weeks’ time.

I’m not very good at blogging, you know?  I’m still not sure why I do this.  Possibly because I like to think that one day it will all come together and I’ll sound witty and charming and urbane and thin, as opposed to sounding barely literate and poorly rested like I do now.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a kitchen to declutter.

The Sort Of Day That Thankfully Doesn’t Happen Often

Three things of note happened today:

1) Girl Child #2 turned eight months old.  That’s 2/3 of a year.  How did that happen?

2) I got a job.  Boo.  Hiss.  I’m not thrilled about the idea of going back to work, even if it is only part-time.

3) I learnt that a very good friend of mine has gone missing.  The last I heard from her was a quick message two weeks ago and I had assumed she was just busy.  It turns out I might have been the last person she contacted before she disappeared.  I’m sick with worry.

Whinge

I’m sick.  I’m sick and the baby is sick and it looks like the big kid is getting sick, too.  It sucks.  It makes me want to give up my Official Badge of Adulthood, crawl under the duvet and demand popsicles and chicken noodle soup.  I don’t want to get up with the baby in the middle of the night because she’s coughing and sputtering and choking.  I don’t want to nurse her all day long because her poor throat is sore.  I don’t want to spend the day fetching and carrying for the big one while she sprawls on the couch and complains about her throat feeling “lumpy”.  Don’t want to.  Waaaaaah.

I have to force myself to look presentable tomorrow because I’m applying for a job.  I don’t even have any clean clothes right now.  I haven’t plucked my eyebrows in a decade or twelve, my skin is dreadful, my nails are bitten and my shoes are unshined.  I have to stop staying at home with the girls and go work.  I find this distasteful, but my options are limited.  I know I’m lucky that I have a husband who works from home and who can take care of my children and that I only need to pick up about 20 hours a week.  But there go my evenings and weekends, my identity as a stay-at-home-mom and my flexible schedule.  I’ve never much cared for working and don’t relish going back.

The Cap’n has been looking for work all over this fair country of ours.  There are all sorts of lovely, rural areas in Saskatchewan and Alberta that are looking for reporters.  There’s a PR opportunity in Victoria.  Heck, the Toronto Star is looking for editors.  I get excited about the prospect of upping sticks and moving away, alternated with feeling cross about not knowing where we’re going to be in a few months’ time.  It’s making it very hard to make plans.  Do we register Girl Child #1 at the new school down the street for September, or will we be in British Columbia?  Should we be saving our money to relocate, or will we end up staying in the same area?  Do we buy a car so we can get around in the wilds of Saskatchewan, or will we stay in the city and continue to walk and take transit?  Will I finally have to learn how to drive?

Boh.  I need to go to bed.  Doubtless Girl Child #2 will be up all night, ensuring I look as haggard as possible when I go handing out my resume tomorrow.  Who doesn’t want to hire the woman with baby snot on her shirt?

I may or may not have killed a bottle of wine tonight. *hic*

Blame the stupid Canadian winters. I will.

See? I suck!

I’m going to excuse my deplorable lack of blogging by saying that Girl Child #2 has been sick. She has been a clingy, snotty, poopy, pukey, feverish baby these last few days. Parenthood. It’s rewarding.

In unrelated news, I’m considering taking part-time courses toward my B.Sc. in the summer. If you know anyone who’s going to be hiring an evolutionary biologist in about a decade, let me know, okay? I’ll even specialize in phylogenetics if that’s what you need.

A starting point

I don’t know why I keep trying to blog, since I always fail so dismally at it. It’s rather like Jelly Belly jelly beans for me; I get on a kick, overindulge and then lose interest. Mind you, I come back to the welcoming bosom of Jelly Belly far more often than I do the world of blogging. After all, I can eat candy while I’m walking Girl Child #1 to school and it tastes better. Okay, that’s a lie. I eat the candy after I drop her off so I don’t have to share.