pamper rituals

Cold still dragging, unfortunately. I did try sleeping it off, but I got Incredibly Bored and started working again. I'm so bad.

Helen stayed over and we rented "Little Voice". Loved this movie! Ewan MacGregor is also quite adorable in this movie, much more relaxed than he was in The Phantom Menace, and he actually smiles. I hope I didn't pass my cold onto Helen.

Went birthday shopping for Sara this afternoon...her birthday party is tomorrow (school birthday party is on Wednesday; I'm helping out with that). She is going to be FIVE YEARS OLD, can you believe it? I say that for the benefit of those of you who may remember the website I set up for her when she was just born. Anyway, went to Toys'R'Us and also a science/learning toystore. Wow, too many choices.

My cold is the insidious type which allows you to feel well enough to work, just barely (but not sick enough to stay in bed all day without feeling guilty), but saps so much strength away that just going to the fridge to look for baking chocolate to nibble on is a major chore.

So what do you all of you do when you're feeling like this? Any "pamper" rituals to recommend? My favourites (please don't tell anyone; some of them are pretty embarrassing):

• Go to bed way too early, bury myself beneath newly-washed sheets and think about chocolate.
• Buy the latest issue of People magazine.
• Strawberries.
• Lipton's chicken noodle soup...the instant kind with the tiny, straight noodles.
• Read a trashy paperback (or the People magazine, which is just as good) in the bathtub with lots of bubbles (my favourite is Neutrogena's "Rainbath") until the pages go all wrinkled and maybe even fall out.

Jeff's been pampering me recently. Has cooked several meals in a row (fine meals, too, not even fast food!) as well as cleaning up after. He won't let me kiss him, though, saying he doesn't want to catch my cold. Of course this makes me want to kiss him all the more; isn't life just like that?

Pardon my incoherency; I am drugged out on Nyquil, going to bed now.

sara is five

Went to a birthday party for Sara last night at my sister's place. Family there (my family plus Kaarel's mom and sister and her kids), as well as our friends Andy and Christine with their 3-year-old daughter Elspeth. Sara had her new Cinderella gown on and was a gracious hostess. Today's blatherchat photo was taken by my father on his new digital camera (I've munged the quality a bit, sorry)...he gave me his old digital camera. Jeff and I gave Sara a bag of small goodies (including a set of glow-in-the-dark stars she could stick on the wall), an Arthur Reading Race CD-ROM, and a Chocolate Art set. I felt a bit guilty about the Chocolate Art set, and actually phoned their place for permission while I was birthday shopping (Kaarel came from a family of dentists). I confess I didn't really tell Kaarel the full extent of the gift, but only asked, "Um, would you mind if one of Sara's presents had something to do with chocolate?" He said yes, but I'm sure he figured I meant a little piece of chocolate, or a Hershey's Kiss. Sara wanted to get right into the bag of meltable chocolate chips without bothering with doing the craft, but Jeff sat down with her and helped pour the chocolate into the molds, add lollipop sticks, etc. Once the scent of chocolate was in the air, the kitchen table was immediately swarming with every other small child in the house. :-)

Sara's cousins Marcus and Taavo particularly enjoyed playing with Sara's and Annie's box of musical instruments and noisemakers. Their mother commented to my sister about the size of the collection, at which point Ruth looked to me with a gritted-teeth smile and said (having to raise her voice considerably to be heard over the din), "Ah yes, their Auntie Debbie gave them almost every piece in that box." HAHAHAHA, I love being an aunt. :-)

Today's Blatherphoto: Sara sitting on my lap last night in her Cinderella gown. You can't see it, but she's holding a small, clear plastic case that used to hold some tiny rubber stamps. I am being the voice of Mr. Bunny Rabbit, asking Sara if I can fit into the little case because it looks so comfortable.

SARA: No, Bunny, you're too big to fit in the case.

ME (as BUNNY): Oh, please let me try.

SARA: Besides, you'll just hurt yourself.

ME: At least let me TRY. Please?

SARA: Ok. (Graciously allows Bunny to stick one ear into the case, then slams the case cover closed.)

ME: Ow! My ear is stuck!

SARA (gently): I -told- you, Bunny...

Tonight is Sara's birthday party with some of her schoolmates, and I'm helping out. Ruth has asked me to bring my glue gun.

school birthday party

So I went over yesterday afternoon to help out with Sara's school birthday party. There were seven little girls, all around Sara's age...Sidney, Greta, Amanda, Milla, Catharine, Gabriele, Pippa. Apparently there was one boy invited, but he refused to come when he heard there were no other boys there.

I mocked Ruth for her elaborate preparations before the guests arrived. "I feel like I'm preparing for a coming war," I teased her. Her reply: "You haven't been to as many of these birthday parties as I have."

There were balloons in the hallways, pink and white crepe paper streamers around the backyard, craft materials set up in the dining room. When Sara's guests began arriving, they were shepherded into the dining room, where Ruth and I did crafts with them. I was pretty impressed with Ruth's set-up...each little girl had a choice of crafts: a flower in a miniature plastic flowerpot with pipecleaner stem and plasticine base, a fridge magnet insect, or a puppet. Craft supplies included glitter, glue, miniature pom-poms, felt shapes, colourful feathers, googly eyes, popsicle sticks, pipecleaners. Ruth also did face-painting. After crafts, the girls played with Sara's toys in various areas of the house, never more than five minutes at a time. Remember that scene in Toy Story when the little boy and his friends explode into his bedroom, play for a few minutes, then explode out into another part of the house? Same scene exactly. Lots of giggling, yelling, pounding of feet. At one point they were all in Ruth and Kaarel's bedroom, jumping up and down on the bed. A minute later they streamed past me (I flattened myself against the wall) in a flurry of ribboned hair and dresses, shrieking and giggling, trampling down the stairs again.

Outside, Ruth organized a number of games, most with prizes (everyone got a prize at some point, of course). In one of them I played my penny whistle (we opted for outdoor music instead of the piano inside since it was such nice weather) as the girls passed a large wrapped present around the circle. When I stopped playing, then the girl holding the gift got to unwrap one layer and keep the present that was contained in that layer. The very last package had toy rings for everyone. Kaarel organized all the food and kept cleaning up behind the scenes. We had pizza and chips and cheezies and orange juice and apple juice outdoors on a large blanket spread out on the grass beneath the trees, and then a Cinderella birthday cake. Then present-opening...by this the time all the gifts were opened, the girls' parents had arrived to pick them up. Each girl took home her craft, prizes, and a loot bag. It seemed like only minutes later that the guests were gone; it was as if a giant (pink) whirlwind had swept through the area, leaving in its path strewn handfuls of half-eaten cake, pizza crusts, and crumpled wrapping paper.

Where was Annie? At the zoo with my dad...Ruth had wisely asked him to take Annie out of the house for the afternoon. They came back and had some leftover pizza and cake while the rest of us rehashed the events of the past hour and a half. Unanimous vote: a successful party.

I staggered home and soaked in the tub (with my beloved Neutrogena Rainbath bubbles) as I speculated on how easy it would be to rule the world if only one could harness the energy of eight five-year-old little girls at a birthday celebration...

p.s. No UT practice tonight; Allison's vacationing in Niagara Falls.

cottage

Was at the cottage this past weekend. Sadly, the phone lines were flakey, and although they were passable for voice phone purposes, getting a reliable Internet connection seemed to be impossible. :-( That (I had been counting on getting work done while up north) combined with the fact that my computer is acting up (Netscape crashes on me about 3-5 times an hour these days, and I have to reboot my computer each time, plus I'm starting to experience really frustrating screen freezes) has launched me into immediate work-stress this week.

Had fun on the weekend, though. Jeff and I did a day trip to Drummer's Lake (involved a couple of portages and paddles). Got to spend time with my niece Brittany, who was up with her mom Larkin. Our favourite game this past weekend: DOCTOR. I would listen to Brittany's tummy and hear all kinds of horrible noises, and have to operate. I'd either pretend to open up her tummy and remove various objects Mary Poppins's-style (e.g. lamps, animals, houses, etc.) or pull them out of her mouth. Sometimes it would be my turn to be sick.

Leaving for the Nahanni in two weeks. I'm reading a book called DANGEROUS RIVER by R.M. Patterson. Our friend Alison George is lending it to us because it's based on a trip up the Nahanni River. Yikes! Reading about the floods, the countless near-misses with death, the bears, etc. is making a bit nervous about our own trip. My only consolation: the trip took place in the early 1900s. Surely conditions on the Nahanni River will be more civilized by now. And our equipment will be better. And we won't be facing spring flooding. Right? RIGHT??

old friends & boxercise

Got email from someone I used to hang out with back in public school...she had typed my
name into an Infoseek people finder search engine. Wow, twenty-five years of catching up
to do! I sent her my URL. She said that she and her parents (who still
remember me) checked out my website, as well as my
Geeky School Photo page. And you know that really
geeky school photo of mine that I have at the top? She says THAT'S how they remember me! :D

Got a snailmail package from Erin McKee (excellent artist...check out the album covers
she did for Mary Ellen and also Dandelion Wine!). The story: when we were visiting Winnipeg a couple years ago, I admired Erin's tequila worm lollipop and gave her money to send me one (it just looked so gross I had to have one). Unfortunately the company were sold out and decided not to carry them anymore. Erin said she was at the Science Museum a couple weeks ago and found a similar-looking candy for me! :-) Looking forward to seeing her this year at the Winnipeg Folk Festival...

Recently I've been getting a ton of spam encouraging me to get cheap liposuction. Very irritating. For one thing, I hate spam. For another thing, even if I WANTED to get liposuction, I don't think I'd want CHEAP liposuction. The very phrase summons up visions of that X-Files episode, you know, the one with that very graphic liposuction murder scene...

Just got back from my first Boxercise class. I think the class would more accurately be named Torturecize. Or aerobics boot camp class. Geez. There was no music, no perky instructor. Instead, a muscular bass-voiced woman named Mary Danielle YELLED at us all class. There was no downtime whatsoever....constant change from one type of exercise to another. Five minutes of skipping, five minutes of weights and stepping (I knew I was in trouble when Mary Danielle added three extra tiers to my step box without asking me), kicks and punches (reminded me a LOT of my karate days), push-ups, more skipping, more kicks, jumping jacks, more push-ups, etc. etc. And whenever you started lagging, you got yelled at.

"C'mon Debbie!" Mary Danielle would scream at me as I struggled to do my 30th sidekick, my leg muscles screaming along with her. "Higher! You can go higher!!" And she'd hold her hand up at an impossible height, daring me to kick it. In the boxercise segments, we'd be assigned a partner. One person would get a target to hold up, the other person would put on boxercise gloves (I am carefully avoiding using the term boxing because I know this probably bears very little resemblance to real boxing). We'd do hook punches, forward punches, dodge and weave. Anytime any of us started lagging, more yelling. I imagined that the target was the person who was sending me liposuction spam. I imagined the target was Mary Danielle. "Good technique!!!" Mary Danielle yells at me as I attack the target with renewed enthusiasm. By this time, I don't hate her as much as I did in the beginning of class. It's an unusual and exhilarating experience, pushing yourself past the exhaustion point.

I left the class sore all over (I could barely lift my arms to get changed), and I know I'm going to be suffering tomorrow. But I can't wait until the next time when I get to go back for more Torturecize. :-)