Friday night, another week down. Letter-Number Meeting gig is getting closer and closer to being over, which is definitely worth a slug or to of wine in celebration. The event gets more ridiculous by the day. Now that everything is more or less in place, they are dreaming up various "disaster scenarios" and we are tasked to figure out how would we overcome them. For example: What if the International Media Centre is set on fire? The obvious answer..."we go home" is not acceptable. For the government to approve a plan, it needs to be something both pointless and expensive, so we have about 11 layers of backup scenarios. Trust me, barring full on Armageddon (which is possible) this event will happen even if every leader has flown standby on the first jet out of the country.
On another note: I had my first commuter train debacle this week. I started taking the train again when this contract started because the office is right in the heart of downtown. I am enjoying the train and since I have some freedom with my schedule both coming and going, it's really working well for me. I have had zero complaints about the service or the reliability. Never had a single problem (or at least anything that could compare the crap shoot that is driving). Until yesterday. While I was waiting for the train, an announcement came over the loudspeaker saying that due to a "pedestrian incident" at another station, the trains going west were delayed. I, and 99.9 percent of the travellers, were going East, so we all disregarded the message, the eastbound train pulled up and and we left our station right on schedule.
And then two minutes later, we stop. Announcement: "Due to passenger incident at (upcoming) station, all trains are delayed." Thanks GO for not announcing that 3 minutes sooner.
Now, train seats are set up in pods of 4, two seats facing two seats. There are three other women in my pod. Directly across is an older woman in a sparkly blazer. A young east Indian woman sits beside her. Beside me is a power business woman.
We converse, as strangers do, about how long we could be delayed for, who can afford to be late to work, blahblahblah. The East Indian woman has a thick accent and I cannot understand a bloody word she is saying, but yet, for some reason, she keeps directing her conversation to me. I obviously confuse her with a lot of inappropriate nodding, because she starts to look at me strangely and begins directing more of her comments to Sparkly Blazer. I start to fiddle with my Blackberry so she will stop including me in whatever she's on about. We wait and wait.
East Indian woman: "Ahh! Good thing I brought a Reader's Digest. The jokes are very funny." She pulls out a dog-eared copy of RD and says, I kid you not: "Would you like me to read you some jokes?" Luckily, she has directed this question to all of three of us. Sparkly Blazer, I think to be nice, says OK. Power Suit and I both respond by looking down at our Blackberries. I'm sorry, but is way too early for this.
She begins to read aloud from the Readers Digest, and Sparkly Blazer (who is a nice, grandmotherly sort) thankfully, hoots in glee at the jokes, which may or may not be funny. I still can't seem to grasp the woman's accent.
Finally, the train starts to move and we pull into the next stop, which is only one stop from where I got on. It's been about 30 minutes so far. More announcements come on about delays. Finally: "Due to passenger fatality at the (upcoming) station all trains are suspended indefinitely." Ah fatality. Code for suicide jumper. The word fatality sobers the crowd up a bit, seems to make everyone slightly less cranky and more philosophical.
People start getting up and flooding off the train and I'm thinking: "where are you all going? We are in the burbs! Are you all going to catch cabs to work?! Really?" They announce that the city bus will take passengers to the next Go stop, where they can get on a streetcar to go downtown. Sounds like a colossal hassle to me, but both Sparkly Blazer and Power Suit decide to get the bus. I decide that I just do not need to get into the office that badly and am going to work from home. But Eric is at a breakfast meeting so we I can't even get a ride for another 30 minutes or so. So, it's me and the East Indian woman and the Readers Digest. I can understand her better now that the train engines are off, but she is a real chatterbox. I have a feeling that when Eric is finally free to come get me, I'll be giving her a ride somewhere. I start answering emails and doing some work (it is now well after 9) and people are milling around sort of lost, and suddenly, they announce that everyone can get back on the train and we are cleared to go.
Power Suit and Sparkly Blazer do not reappear. Two businessmen sit down instead. East Indian woman is still talking to me and I sense both men fear they are going to be sucked into small talk. The train starts moving and continues to move at a pace only marginally faster than walking. In the end my 2o minute ride took 3 hours.
Oh Jumper.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
And Now We are Four
My son turns 4 today. Officially, I mean. Unofficially, he has been 4 in my mind for several months now. To me, three is still quite babyish whereas 4 is all about independence and responsibility. It’s Goodbye,Diego and Hello, Batman.
Now Kieran has always been a fair amount of work. Up until he turned 3, the absolute last words I would have used to describe him were easygoing or independent (both words which, incidentally, I would wholeheartedly apply to his little sister). But in the last year the change has been dramatic. Thankfully. Truly, as a toddler my son had some terrible qualities – while many children are shy around adults, Kieran went a step further into open hostility. Old ladies who would coo at him in the grocery store were usually met with a glare or a pout or a loud grunt of how-dare-you-address-me-displeasure. Totally embarrassing, totally not cute and very different from the little boy I knew privately. And don’t get me started on waking him up early from naps…the crying and screaming could last for (and I say this without the slightest exaggeration) HOURS.
But things are much better now. Now, if he is excited about an upcoming outing, he is the child who will actually shout at people on the street: “I’m going for ice cream!” or “I’m going the park!” I’ve had to tell him many times that people, especially older kids, are not interested, but he is totally unfazed.
He’s been taking a Sportball class (a pre-school sports program that introduces them to a new sport each week- golf, basketball, tennis etc) for quite awhile now. The indoor section ended and the new outdoor part began and once it moved outside, parents were allowed to watch. Last week, we went to his class and I had Kaya with me. I was busy chasing her around and was totally oblivious to what was happening on the field. At one point another parent said to me “your son is a total athlete!” My immediate and obviously inappropriate response (“My Son?!”) implying that he was obviously confusing my undersized half Asian child with some strapping blond kid who looked remotely like me, but he wasn’t. Yet another surprise! And it was true…even though I think the use of the word “athlete” is a bit dramatic, it was obvious that while most of the other kids were distracted lollygaggers, Kieran was different. He was listening to the instructor and putting in all the effort. Can’t ask for more than that.
He starts school in the fall and he is so ready. He talks about it all the time and is practically brimming with joy at the prospect. I’m hoping he can maintain the momentum he has going. He and his daycare friends will go separate ways and there will be a whole new group of kids to get to know. I feel there will be some hard lessons he has to learn about being different and making friends, but I can only hope that he comes out even stronger on the other end. But, I have a good feeling it will all be OK.
Happy Birthday Kieran!!
Now Kieran has always been a fair amount of work. Up until he turned 3, the absolute last words I would have used to describe him were easygoing or independent (both words which, incidentally, I would wholeheartedly apply to his little sister). But in the last year the change has been dramatic. Thankfully. Truly, as a toddler my son had some terrible qualities – while many children are shy around adults, Kieran went a step further into open hostility. Old ladies who would coo at him in the grocery store were usually met with a glare or a pout or a loud grunt of how-dare-you-address-me-displeasure. Totally embarrassing, totally not cute and very different from the little boy I knew privately. And don’t get me started on waking him up early from naps…the crying and screaming could last for (and I say this without the slightest exaggeration) HOURS.
But things are much better now. Now, if he is excited about an upcoming outing, he is the child who will actually shout at people on the street: “I’m going for ice cream!” or “I’m going the park!” I’ve had to tell him many times that people, especially older kids, are not interested, but he is totally unfazed.
He’s been taking a Sportball class (a pre-school sports program that introduces them to a new sport each week- golf, basketball, tennis etc) for quite awhile now. The indoor section ended and the new outdoor part began and once it moved outside, parents were allowed to watch. Last week, we went to his class and I had Kaya with me. I was busy chasing her around and was totally oblivious to what was happening on the field. At one point another parent said to me “your son is a total athlete!” My immediate and obviously inappropriate response (“My Son?!”) implying that he was obviously confusing my undersized half Asian child with some strapping blond kid who looked remotely like me, but he wasn’t. Yet another surprise! And it was true…even though I think the use of the word “athlete” is a bit dramatic, it was obvious that while most of the other kids were distracted lollygaggers, Kieran was different. He was listening to the instructor and putting in all the effort. Can’t ask for more than that.
He starts school in the fall and he is so ready. He talks about it all the time and is practically brimming with joy at the prospect. I’m hoping he can maintain the momentum he has going. He and his daycare friends will go separate ways and there will be a whole new group of kids to get to know. I feel there will be some hard lessons he has to learn about being different and making friends, but I can only hope that he comes out even stronger on the other end. But, I have a good feeling it will all be OK.
Happy Birthday Kieran!!
Monday, June 7, 2010
I feel like Garfield...but I really do hate Mondays.
I’m not sure I’m awake enough to be updating this, but I’m going to try:
I spent the weekend in Niagara Falls where my husband’s band was playing at the Casino. It was a fantastic weekend, I love the band and would follow them around like a groupie were it not for the fact that I need childcare. Well, and also that apparently staying up until 4 am is not for the weak and soft (which apparently, I am). It’s now Monday and my head is still pounding and I could easily crawl back into bed and nap until tomorrow. But alas, I cannot.
Still working hard (ha!) at the Letter Number Meeting Office. I am happy to report that the security department did not find and flag me as a security risk due to my last update. Still counting the days until this whole thing is OVAH. I’m tired of it all…the meetings, the security, the oddness. The office cleaning staff is not allowed in here on evenings and weekends so they come in during midmorning. A bunch of old ladies with their vacuums trying to clean around all the staff. It’s reminiscent of childhood when your Mom would ram the vacuum into your feet while you were trying to watch cartoons, only this time we are grownups and probably on conference calls. But it’s just as annoying. And we all collectively learned the hard way that one cannot dispose of one’s lunch leftovers in your desk garbage on Friday lest you want to still smell it on Monday morning. Gag.
Of course, this would also be the month that is insanely busy on the personal side. Every single weekend is completely booked…so much so that I am having issues trying to find a day to have Kieran’s 4th Birthday party. I think I have an available date a full two weeks after his birthday has passed, slotted in mere hours before I depart for cottage country and the Letter-Number extravaganza really begins (and hopefully ends...peacefully).
Also, I had another post written in my head last week, and naturally as all blog posts are, it was eloquent and funny in my imagination. Now it is a week later and I'm tired, so my well written post will now be condensed to this one lame-o paragraph about our last -and also crazy - weekend.
Last week the kids were the ring bearer and flower girl at our babysitter’s daughter’s wedding. They were very cute and very good, but, as a parent having your child involved in a wedding where you aren’t involved is both strange and freeing. I didn’t need to go to a single dress or tux fitting. I didn’t have to worry about shoes or hair or photographs. On the morning of the big day, I dropped Kaya off at the house to get ready with the bridal party and didn’t see her until she came down the aisle. However, I did have to get myself and Kieran ready (Eric, of course, was out of town), which meant 10 minutes of trying to cram his feet into his shoes – I resorted to using a spatula as a shoehorn - followed by not being able to FIND my own shoes, getting caught in crazy traffic and then arriving with him five minutes before the ceremony began (and 25 minutes after I was asked to have him there). So, even though I barely had anything to do I still almost managed to screw it up.
Anyway, I should get to work. I think my headache has subsided enough to allow me to actually get work done. And I hear the vacuums coming this way….
I spent the weekend in Niagara Falls where my husband’s band was playing at the Casino. It was a fantastic weekend, I love the band and would follow them around like a groupie were it not for the fact that I need childcare. Well, and also that apparently staying up until 4 am is not for the weak and soft (which apparently, I am). It’s now Monday and my head is still pounding and I could easily crawl back into bed and nap until tomorrow. But alas, I cannot.
Still working hard (ha!) at the Letter Number Meeting Office. I am happy to report that the security department did not find and flag me as a security risk due to my last update. Still counting the days until this whole thing is OVAH. I’m tired of it all…the meetings, the security, the oddness. The office cleaning staff is not allowed in here on evenings and weekends so they come in during midmorning. A bunch of old ladies with their vacuums trying to clean around all the staff. It’s reminiscent of childhood when your Mom would ram the vacuum into your feet while you were trying to watch cartoons, only this time we are grownups and probably on conference calls. But it’s just as annoying. And we all collectively learned the hard way that one cannot dispose of one’s lunch leftovers in your desk garbage on Friday lest you want to still smell it on Monday morning. Gag.
Of course, this would also be the month that is insanely busy on the personal side. Every single weekend is completely booked…so much so that I am having issues trying to find a day to have Kieran’s 4th Birthday party. I think I have an available date a full two weeks after his birthday has passed, slotted in mere hours before I depart for cottage country and the Letter-Number extravaganza really begins (and hopefully ends...peacefully).
Also, I had another post written in my head last week, and naturally as all blog posts are, it was eloquent and funny in my imagination. Now it is a week later and I'm tired, so my well written post will now be condensed to this one lame-o paragraph about our last -and also crazy - weekend.
Last week the kids were the ring bearer and flower girl at our babysitter’s daughter’s wedding. They were very cute and very good, but, as a parent having your child involved in a wedding where you aren’t involved is both strange and freeing. I didn’t need to go to a single dress or tux fitting. I didn’t have to worry about shoes or hair or photographs. On the morning of the big day, I dropped Kaya off at the house to get ready with the bridal party and didn’t see her until she came down the aisle. However, I did have to get myself and Kieran ready (Eric, of course, was out of town), which meant 10 minutes of trying to cram his feet into his shoes – I resorted to using a spatula as a shoehorn - followed by not being able to FIND my own shoes, getting caught in crazy traffic and then arriving with him five minutes before the ceremony began (and 25 minutes after I was asked to have him there). So, even though I barely had anything to do I still almost managed to screw it up.
Anyway, I should get to work. I think my headache has subsided enough to allow me to actually get work done. And I hear the vacuums coming this way….
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