Frustrations and Flurries

This week has been slightly frustrating. We got the same response as last week when we called about the PR cards. We are in a bit of a pickle because according to BC (British Columbia) law, our international driver’s license is only recognized for three months. After that, it is mandatory to get a BC driver’s license.

However, in order to obtain one, one must have a PR card!! Since I have my card, I can apply (or shudder take the tests) for the local license, but P is not willing to give me the keys to the car, and despite the huge fuss (read tantrum) I made about it, I am not willing to drive Lanes around knowing my dubious driving capabilities. That and I’m socially responsible: )

The DMV was most unhelpful. Typical beaurocrats, they could not get past the guide they had on paper (laminated and printed from the internet to boot). The only choice we had was to take a copy of their print out and attach it to a letter we wrote to the immigration folks explaining our situation. I don’t know if it helps since they do not put a rush on new immigrant’s cards. I feel like we are constantly running around in circles sometimes. I’m about to get motion sickness!!

While I sat on the sofa and contemplated this madness with a cupcake in hand for comfort, I realized the ceiling in our apartment started to leak again. In the living room, with no water source above it, nonetheless. The plop plop noise is like a variation of Chinese water torture. I might as well put my forehead under it!! The sound of it drives me insane and keeps me up at night. Over the top, I know, but Lanes get her drama queen tendencies from me.

Since I put in so much effort into sprucing up the apartment, the anal retentive side of me (that’s like 90%) is getting exasperated with having to keep the new couch at a diagonal and placing a garbage can under the leak. It’s also annoying since the couch was blocking a plug point that Lanes finds particularly fascinating.

The maintenance folks came in five hours after it was reported, nodded severely to each other, and told me that they had to bring in the professionals, who apparently will definitely be messy (because I asked if they could do a neat job). I am not really crazy about the clean up.

Meanwhile P has befriended a Cookie Cutter. She is not one of the two on ‘the list’ but she is definitely an honorary board member of the club. Quelle horreur again!! What’s worse, he came home saying, ‘I just met the nicest person…’. He turned a little green when I gave him my opinion of the situation. What’s up with P getting the warm reception? He must be getting better looking in his old age (insert sarcastic muffling noise here).

No luck yet on the job front. I feel bad because every few hours I hear P exclaiming ‘oh that job would be perfect for me’ but there are so many e-mails coming in saying ‘the position has already been filled’ it’s really and truly disheartening. Even though the logical part of me (2%) has decided that I should not worry about this until at least six months have passed without a job.

But on a happy note, we got our Care Cards, so after our three month waiting period is up, we can finally find a doctor!! Yippee. Never in my life did I think I’ll ever look forward to a doctor’s visit. We also got approved for our monthly child care benefits, and the total of that almost pays Lanes’ school fees. We even got credit for the month of October. P and I were so delighted. I love Canada!!

P is still finding seminars to attend. The government appoints case managers for immigrants, to help us find employment. Pretty much glorified school guidance counselors, is what they are, but when you are in a brand new spanking place, it really is an invaluable service, no matter how much research you do before coming in (and trust me, methodical, meticulous P had folders and folders of research, his anal retentive side: 100%). They do stuff like advice on Canadian culture and give pointers on resumes.

Somehow or the other P found another case manager he claims is more efficient than the one he was first appointed. Since he is only allowed to have one case manager by law, I heard him making a call saying he wanted to ‘terminate the services of’ so and so. I had to raise an eyebrow on that one. There were just so many other ways to phrase that sentence, but no, he had to do it the harsh way. We’re calling him Arnie this week. He’s Schwarzenegger with skinny thighs.

Meanwhile, I’m not short of drama being stuck at home. As promised last time, I shall keep you up to date on the soap opera that is unfolding right on my doorstep. Let me (re)introduce you to the nice Thai lady who lives next door. The one that always appears with food, just at the right time—my Fairy Food Mamma (from now on, known as Lanes nickname for her, Aunty G).  Around five four without the slight hunch, Aunty G has hair that’s tightly pulled back and placed on top her head like an unflavored snow cone (or I guess a coconut flavored one).

Her features look like they have been painted on by a calligraphy brush. Angular grey eyebrows, upward slanting cheek bones, and a straight mouth, from which no one knows what is going to come out. And best of all, almond eyes that see everything. I mean it. She is in the know all the time. P is convinced that she spends her entire time staring out of her peephole. I think she is rather beautiful.

She also keeps a stroller in the hallway, right next to the door of our very patient Korean neighbors. When we first moved in we were wondering why someone kept so many empty bottles on a stroller outside the apt nonetheless. Turns out Aunty G collects bottles and paper for recycling and strolls it out in the evenings. She apparently can earn up to $20 some nights. Now I really regret not shipping Lanes’ stroller: )

According to Aunty G, our Mutual Neighbor works in the mall and leaves her dog, “Suze”, in the car all day. How she knows this bit of information is beyond me, and I know better than to ask. All I know is that Aunty G knows that I have a soft spot for furry four legged creatures and I knew she was trying to appeal to my sense of justice for our mute friends.

Last Sunday the dog was scratching at the door and barking all day (literally). Since Mutual Neighbor is never without the dog, I was worried thinking something happened to her and the dog was trying to send out an SOS. I had visions of little “Suze” being the star of “An Animal Saved my Life”. Of course when I stepped out to comfort the dog, Aunty G instantly materialized. She has an uncanny knack of turning up at exactly the right time, or exactly the wrong time (like my mom). Never in between.

I was met with yet another tirade on how ‘selfish’ Mutual Neighbor is to leave the dog here and there. Aunty G was going to pounce on her the minute she got back from the mall, and she wanted my help to gang up on her and speak for the dog. She even called the Manager of the apartment building (at home on a Sunday). Aunty G was rather indignant when she was told it would be illegal for her to gain entry into the apartment, so no, no one would be coming to let her in. I grabbed the phone before she thought to call the BCSPCA.

Having not heard Mutual Neighbor’s side of the story, I was hesitant to get involved (plus “Suze” looks happy otherwise). Sure enough, from my peep hole, I saw the drama unfold. Aunty G cornered Mutual Neighbor and told her she is self-centered and she is lucky to have neighbors (what’s up with the plural?) who are willing to care for her dog for free and she should really take us up on the offer instead of leaving the dog here and there.

Aunty G said that she and I can take care of the dog since we are home all day (say what now???). I seemed to have missed the conversation in which I was offering dog-sitting services. Truth be told, if not for Lanes and P, I would have been delighted to have some puppy love all day, but that poor dog is 18 years old, blind (according to Aunty G, looks fine to me) and probably close to crossing over. It would be traumatic if ‘Suze’ decided to ‘follow the bright light’ on my watch.

Mutual Neighbor didn’t say much, only that she will return the poor dog to her husband’s house (Aunty G claims they separated over the dog). Aunty G called me instantly and gave me a word for word replay of the situation. To this day, she is still fuming about it. Meanwhile poor Mutual Neighbor literally runs into her apartment so she won’t get caught by our Senior super snoop.

P doesn’t get involved in apartment politics. He and Aunty G seem to only have conversations in the car—she back seat drives from the front seat whenever she catches a ride with him to her doctor or to the supermarket. It’s a whole new spin on ‘Driving Miss. Daisy’, which will come to a dramatic halt if P can’t drive after the 26^th.

Back to the ceiling issues, when we opened our door to let the maintenance folks out, she manifested herself right in front of the door. We heard the two handy men gasp and suck in their breath and they ran into the elevator so fast, they might have got whiplash. Aunty G stated, super loud after them, ‘oh these two are good. The other one. He’s no good.’ The two men had made their escape, but now P and I were left with the harangue about ‘the other one’. Oie.

It has been snowing nonstop today, and I have made two new friends in the laundry room!! How exciting is that. One is an nice older Italian man whom I have seen around about a dozen times and he seems to be under the impression that my name is ‘Sweetie’, and the other is a mild mannered Indian lady who was delighted to find another South Asian. Her ceiling is leaking too, so we instantly bonded. The Sisterhood of the Leaky Ceilings.

While I was enjoying meeting folks, Lanes and P made their first snowman. Lanes was rather huffy and thought I was highly incompetent because I gave her a celery stick for the nose instead of a carrot. Lanes’ school closed for today and as I type, she is attacking a jar of peanut butter with great gusto. I must swoop in to put an end to it, for which I’m sure I’ll be told to wait ‘two minutes’. Hopefully we will have some good news next week, stay tuned….

Glass Doors and Windows of Hope

We are still plagued by a dry cough. Just can’t figure out the allergy situation. During my late night channel surfing sessions I saw an infomercial for an air purifier and I decided that was the solution to my problems. I also thought a mop was the panacea to my issues one time back in the day, and that didn’t work out so well for me or the mop, but that’s another story.

The ad said it costs $34.49 a month and didn’t specify how many months one had to keep paying for this machine. And if I ‘call now’ I could get a free vacuum cleaner and fridge purifier, a total value of $150. Now if they threw in an Olaf or free delivery from Vancouver’s top 20 restaurants, instead of the vacuum and fridge purifier, I would have been dialing that number so fast, phone dialing would qualify for the Olympics, and I’d win at least the Bronze.

We are also still waiting for P’s and Lanes’ PR cards. We were keen to go see my nutty relatives south of the border so after much nagging from my sister, we called the relevant authorities to see what the deal was. Mostly we did this to keep her quiet. I have no idea how much of that info I can blog about, so let’s just say we’d be lucky to go down for Christmas. The folks who were helping us on the phone were just so darn nice though. And I really mean that. Even though I felt frustrated by that news, I was inspired to be polite and wish them a nice day right back!!

Speaking of all this shiny happy stuff, P’s got himself a bevy of angels. Not the kind that wear metallic short shorts and sport feathered hair (he should be so lucky), but genuine, bona fide good people. We started out the week on a sour note because a recruiting agency wrote to him and told him they won’t consider him and neither would their clients because he has no Canadian work experience. He’s hitting glass doors before he can even reach the glass ceiling!! Yep, the atmosphere in the apartment was chipper after that e-mail.

That jet propelled P to try harder and sign up for some seminars. The first one he went to was held by three HR firms. He spoke to one of the ‘lecturers’ after the session and told her about his predicament. They are now on e-mail basis and she has referred him to a colleague who has given him some really helpful, and more importantly, encouraging advice. Meanwhile, this really nice couple we met here had passed on P’s resume to a coworker, who then sent P’s resume all over the place and put him in touch with another recruiter. 

And this just keeps getting better. My parents’ friend called up a friend of theirs and told him about P and he is having his assistant call P and see if he can at least find him some temp work in his company, to grab hold of that elusive brass wring, I mean ring, that is Canadian work experience.

We have no idea how things will pan out, or if any of these leads will prove fruitful, but at least we finally have some momentum going, and we are fueled by hope.  

In other news, Lanes saw her first real life snow. We went to Surrey to visit the nice couple I just mentioned. They have a son and a daughter a few years younger than me (but lots younger than P : ))I threw that comment in there to see if he is actually reading my blog. If he read it, he would rant about it. Here’s hoping.

We asked if we could pop in for a chat, and we were greeted with a lovely meal of string hoppers, which made P and Lanes really happy since the likelihood of me replicating a meal like that was slim to none. My culinary skills remain slightly limited, but what I do make, I make well. My wit and charm compensate for my dubious culinary capabilities: ) Ok, even I find it hard to stomach that comment, pun intended.

So back to the nice couple—Lanes had taken a real shinning to them from the first time she met them, so she was really well behaved and happy. She was also delighted because the Mrs. part of the couple runs a day care and she has a room full of toys. So between the company, the room and the food she was in a magical wonderland.

For a notoriously picky eater, she ate food there. As usual, she got so busy staring at everyone, she needed to be reminded to eat, to which she responded with a very enthusiastic ‘ok, I’ll do it!!’. Sure enough, actually getting down to keeping the promise was another story. She will make a great government employee one day! A great ‘can do’ attitude, but follow through? Hmm?

When we finally got up to leave, it was super windy and we got snowed in and had to spend the night. Those poor folks just could not see the back of us!! After having a jolly time, Lanes fell asleep (luckily I brought her PJs) and we all watched some TV and had a really good time. P and I felt really bad because it was noon the next day by the time we left, but at the same time we felt rejuvenated after hanging out in their warm home.

So this week ended on a positive note. P is buoyant after being amazed by the goodness of the people who have come into his life, and also the kindness of strangers. I continue to be really happy to be here, and Lanes, well she is just Lanes.

It’s amazing to see her going through all these new experiences. She was agog on the way home looking at snow capped mountains and buildings, trees, and landscapes that look like a giant sprinkled powdered sugar all over them while we were sleeping. Hearing her gasp in amazement makes my heart feel all warm and gooey like a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie.

While writing this blog, P has come up to me 25 times modeling various outfits for his interview/job fair, Lanes has tried to type on this blog and use my limbs as monkey bars, and my neighbor has come over and called me on the phone to complain about the quality of care our mutual neighbor’s dog is getting.

She has volunteered herself and yours truly (without my permission) to look after the dog in question!! P will blow a fuse when he finds out. There is a super juicy story brewing there for my next blog, so stay tuned….

Parental Pause

Thanks so much everyone for your positive feedback on my weekly blogs about my rantings, ravings and cravings. I’m a few days late posting this week as my parental units had finally landed. As I type this, they are being jet propelled across the border in my sister’s mammoth sized minivan. I can just visualize my father holding onto the hand bars and my mom holding her handbag on her lap with one hand and shielding her flawlessly coiffed hair with the other. The mini diva has passed out on the sofa, P is back to doing job research and thus I have a moment of peace.

One more thing to scratch of the list this week. My PR card arrived…on my favorite aging Canadian rocker’s birthday (Nov 5), which of course I immediately took as a sign (those of you who knew me at seventeen know what I’m talking about—I remain convinced that he will fall from the sky, into my lap and immediately propose to me).

P just tsk tsked and ignored me when I pointed this out. Hmm. I told him about my fan-atic adoration of said musician when we first met, but he thinks should anything fall from the sky, I’m more likely to be struck by airline toilet discharges than aging rock stars. I still live in hope. Ok, I digress…back to the cards.

The odd thing is that we are still waiting for P’s and Lanes’ PR cards. One would think that P would get his before ours, if anything. Our social insurance cards came on the same day, so we thought that’s the way it would be. P’s theory is that it’s because his and Lanes’ full names are so long. We hope they arrive before Thanksgiving in the US so we can visit my nutty sister and her family, especially since our parents will be there.

So, since last I blogged, we had our first parent observation at Lanes’ school. I was supposed to observe Lanes, but the happening four year olds I mentioned earlier (you know the ones that have boyfriends and girlfriends, quelle horreur) surrounded me and wanted to know what I was doing in school. Note the use of French--I am Canadianizing myself:)

The girl who held Lanes’ hand during the fieldtrip came and asked me why I didn’t bring my handbag and then insisted on knowing Lanes’ father’s name. A couple of others came and told me their names and how old they were before being pried away by the principal. Fortunately, none thought to ask how old I was. Lanes and the other three year olds were doing their own thing. I noticed our mini diva was cleaning up after herself and being rather peaceful. If only she thought our living room was school…

Turns out Mystic Pizza Hair had the same time slot as us and we actually chatted on the way out. She has officially been moved to the ‘Parents I Like’ list, which is a list I’d refer to as exclusive, rather than short. I’m a big fan of euphemisms. Sounds better that way: )

Apparently the list of ‘Parents I Don’t Know’ is rather large since lots of grandparents drop off/pick up kids and we don’t always bump into each other. I noticed a little boy in Lanes’ class that we sat next to in Church last week. I had no idea he was her classmate then, never seen his mom before (or have I?).

I decided to be sociable and speak to him and his mom in Church next time. The ‘Cookie Cutter’ list has been narrowed down to two. I guess smiling and everyday pleasantries might cause them to short circuit or something.

Speaking of malfunctions, we are having technical difficulties in our apartment. Thank goodness maintenance is quick and friendly. Last Sunday I heard a plop plop noise, only to find that water was leaking from our ceiling—straight onto the arm of our new couch from the store that rhymes with the plural of ‘rear’. The layout of all the apartments is the same, so there was no kitchen or (shudder) bathroom above where the leak was coming from so we were baffled.

In fact, so was the maintenance man. Daunted by the prospect of having to cut the ceiling to figure out the source of the leak, he suggested we move the couch back and then see if it will leak again that night. I said, how about we wait out the night but not move the couch back? Last thing I need when my old folks arrive is a soggy sofa. They’d look like an ad for Depends after standing up from the wet furniture.

Luckily, it has not leaked—yet. We still have no idea how this happened. The maintenance guy said something about humidity and heat levels inside countering the cold outside, but I really don’t think there is any excuse for a ceiling to leak, especially in an area where there is no alleged water source.

He was explaining that we kept our apartment too hot—as if we sit around with our fifty heat lamps all day.  If ever there was a source of hot air, it was that guy, because our apartment is centrally heated!! We have no control of the temperature and thus no way to make it hotter!!

I was just glad everything was ok for my parents visit, but my mom guessed that we had a mold problem, something I was desperately trying to conceal. Can’t hide anything from that one. Seriously. When I worked with my father, and he got into predicaments, such as cutting his finger on rusted metal (which he did often, I have no idea how or why), she would show up just at that moment and that poor man would get a tetanus shot before you could say ‘Jack Robinson’. I have no idea who Jack Robinson is.

So the parents had a great time. My father relaxed and my mother embarked on a ‘Bones’ watching marathon. She is absolutely addicted to that show. On the day she arrived here, instead of being tired, she watched back to back episodes of ‘Bones’ on the internet. Kept her in one place for hours!! Then I had to record the latest episode on Thursday night, which we had to watch twice. If only the producers of the show knew their biggest fan was a geriatric Sri Lankan lady who looks like a Maharani.

One night she fell asleep on the couch, woke up suddenly and asked for the computer to look up the ratings of the latest season. She was worried they had dropped since this season was in her opinion not as good as the previous ones. My mom also looks up bios on cast members and other trivia on the show. Amazing. I just can’t believe it. She says it’s a very educational show. Hmm.

Lanes was really super good when they were here—no Olaf needed. Every morning she would ask if they were still around and then jump into bed with them. The silence in our apartment is deafening now that they have left (there was lots of chitter chatter with them around). Lanes got into a mood and also got the sniffles. We had a lot of problem getting her to sleep since she couldn’t breathe.

We still haven’t figured out what it is we are allergic to. I guess that’s something for a future episode: )

Leper from the Colonies

Please note that stories you read are true.  The names in this blog have been changed to protect the morally decrepit and criminally insane. Individuals sensitive to potentially impolite commentary or doses of sarcasm are advised to brace themselves. It is impossible to give an accurate account of life while beating around the bush. Sometimes life is what it is. And so we continue…

One more thing off the list. Credit cards. Finally. We are eagerly awaiting our PR cards though. We are unable to move onwards and upwards without them. I’m not just talking about driver’s licenses, ID cards, and health cards. Important stuff like cards from leading department stores are also apparently out of reach.
We had a funny experience at such a store.  For my more inquisitive friends, the name of the store rhymes with the plural form of the word ‘rear’, you know, as in buttocks.

Since my parents are due to descend upon us in a little more than a week, we were desperately looking for a sofa set that won’t gobble them up. If they sit on the one we have now, they won’t be able to get up until Christmas 2012 at the earliest. That just won’t work for any of us.

P, ever excited by a good deal, noticed that we could get an additional 40% off if we had a department store card. We asked three different people from two sections how to get this elusive magic card. At the first counter, we were presented with the literature, according to which, if we had two pieces of ID plus a Canadian credit card, we would qualify for the card. Note, this is not a store credit card we wanted. Just a store card.

There were two salespeople at the counter. One was a gentleman, solid as an Oldsmobile, well groomed with white hair slicked back to near perfection, and a matter of fact (in a pleasant way) attitude. Probably has two well behaved college going kids. He had the same understanding of the literature as we did, but had no authority to go ahead with the transaction. He remained positive that if we went to the relevant authorities, we would get help. After all, it’s just a store card.

The other was a lady, slightly frazzled brown bob, glasses, possibly middle aged, small build, with a possibly Eastern European accent. She kept pressing down the sides of the pamphlets almost like she was trying to iron the already flat papers.

She was quite excited to get our application. Until she realized that we had an international driver’s license, not a Canadian one, and that our other ID was a passport (two picture IDs). We did have the Canadian credit cards (finally!!). Then she asked if our PR cards or health cards had come. Nope. She quickly grabbed back the literature and clutched it to her chest.

The lady looked at us with sympathy, shook her head in a ‘tsk tsk’ motion, and told us she could not help us. The man quickly told us to go to another counter that should be able to help us, as there was no harm trying. But the woman kept shaking her head and saying ‘oh no, you won’t get it’ and she looked at us with wide eyes, rimmed with pity, like we were told there were no more life boats on the Titanic.

So off we went to the counter they suggested, only to find that we could not apply there but the nice lady there gave us loads of catalogs to look at with more sofas on offer at better prices. She also kept Lanes entertained with a catalog on toys. She and Lanes were having their own fabulous conversation so we got to do a lot of research.

After that we went to yet another counter. This one manned by another lady in a sweater set and glasses. This time with a black bob and Chinese accent. We had the same conversation as with the first lady, and when we came to the part where we said our PR cards were in the mail, she took the literature from us, cradled it in her hands like it was sacred and possibly tainted by us, and flatly refused when P asked if we could have it to read the information.

She reverently placed it back in the rack, wouldn’t look us in the eye and stepped back. I think she might have held her breath so as not to catch the new disease called ‘migrantitis’, something in the same family as leprosy. It was all too hilarious for us to be offended, so P and I left quickly before we burst into laughter.
It all turned out ok in the end because we were going to the mall a few days later and stumbled upon the outlet of the store in question and got a fabulous deal on a sofa. The icing on the cake was that we got it delivered in three days rather than the two week minimum we were given at the main store.

Meanwhile this week has been long since Lanes has decided to try out her mischievous side. Note the euphemism. She has become a downright terror. So much so that I was debating putting some holy water on her to see if that would set her right. She has become one shrieking, climbing, jumping, pulling hot mess. I need an intervention with her. Where is Olaf????????? I think the terrible threes are here. I think I need back up. I think she is the new sheriff in town.

Meanwhile I’m battling to stay sane and keep calm. Lanes has also stopped calling us Mamma and Daddy. We are now “mom” and “dad”. She sort of rolls the words around her mouth, really enunciating them. Still sounds odd to our ears. I guess it’s a step up from being called by our first names: ) So I’m exhausted after all the drama by our mini diva. Will post more soon…

Having a Cow

We are still playing the waiting game with all but two things. At long last our internet/cable/phone is finally sorted. And the boxes that were lined up in our entrance were also picked up by the largest man I have ever seen. I didn’t ask, but I’m sure his name was Olaf. Lanes was misbehaving just the same moment he decided to come and his arrival doused her tantrum on the spot. I wish I can an Olaf on call.

Had a lovely weekend with my friend Amy (Wash Coll) visiting followed by my sis and the whole Seattle shabang.  Lanes (and P and I) were delighted with the company, but the apt was deafeningly quiet when everyone left. Back to the work week (can unemployed people call it that?).

My annoyance with the cookie cutter moms continues, but I have not seen them due to the bad weather. They get to hang out in their SUVs while I battle the cantankerous stroller in the wind and freezing rain. Fair enough. They might melt if they stepped out.

I begrudgingly went with Lanes to her first field trip. I did not want to be stuck on a bus with the cookie cutters and Mystic Pizza hair. P was supposed to go but he conveniently wound up in another workshop/seminar so I had a cow about going with the cows to see the cows.

Turns out the cookie cutter moms did not come on the bus. They sent one of their parents with the kids instead. I guess they are too posh to ride on the bus. Or ok, I’ll be nice, they were probably doing stuff with their other two kids (since they have three a piece).

Mystic Pizza hair came on the bus. She did her usual ignoring thing in the beginning but then she nearly poked Lanes with an umbrella and she apologized and started talking to me. Then there was not stopping her!! Turns out she is not so bad after all, and even gave a tip on a job that might be opening up where she works.
And I made friends with another mom as well!! Progress. She drove to the farm since she had another small baby and she was really kind and offered to take my stroller in her car (the school was locked up when we got there since the teachers were stuck on the bus after the morning class went on the field trip).  Her son is apparently friends with Lanes since he was happy to see her and called her by name. Lanes did her usual ‘do I know you buddy?’ look.

On the way I think Lanes also made a friend since there was a rather chatty four year old in front of us who turned  round and held hands with Lanes for a long time. The skin on her thumb was peeling and to my horror, Lanes tried to ‘fix it’ by peeling more of it off (I did a quick application of Purell for that)!! Any old how it was cute to watch the two of them.

Then the four year old talked to another girl her age about their boyfriends and I nearly passed out. I looked quickly at big eyed innocent looking Lanes and thought, oh boy. Her Daddy is going to LOVE the boyfriend talk when that starts. Another mom laughed and told me her daughter said she has a boyfriend too!! Apparently four is a happening age. I’m so glad Lanes is still newly three: ) Esp for P’s sake.

Lanes was delighted with her field trip as she got to pet a cow and milk it. She also learnt where milk comes from and how to make butter, but I’m guessing that didn’t sink in so much. We were then taken to a barn where she got to pet a calf and then feed some cows. She was feeding one cow so enthusiastically, I think the cow thought Lanes was the bees knees!! We were all given chocolate milk at the end of the tour, which made both of us rather delighted. Much to the disspointment of Lanes’ new friend she passed out on the way back to school, exhausted after a day on the farm.

So at the end of the day, mother and daughter had a grand old time and peace was made with Mystic Pizza hair. Plus, although cloudy, it did not rain on us today. P continues to tweak his resume and the hunt for the right job (any job) continues. So same old same old. I’m glad to be making some progress in the mom front. Cookie cutter moms don’t bug me since I enjoy joking about them. You know, snide remarks make me happy:) More will follow…

As so we begin...

And so we began our new life in Burnaby, British Columbia. P is tired, I’m excited and lil Lanes is just confused. Where’s my stuff? Where’s my peeps? That’s what she wanted to know when we moved. After all three of us managed to get gloriously sick in Seattle, we had to cancel our flight to Vancouver, and my sister and her uncle-in-law, our Uncle Gene, drove us up the day after.

Turns out it was a blessing in disguise since we were thus spared the long wait at immigration. Lanes was delighted with the beautiful drive (having enjoyed it so much that she fell asleep with her mouth open most of the time—much to my relief).  P and I were delighted since we no longer had to worry about weight limits and our baggage and finding cabs and lugging car seats.

M was told we were going to Canada. Having no concept of geography, this made no sense to her but when she saw the greenery at the border, she decided Canada was one big fabulous park, which I guess is an ok description.  We were presented with three Canadian flags after we were processed and the big red maple leaf with the bold red stripes on the side just appealed to something in Lanes and she ran around the grounds shouting with glee—like she was auditioning to be the poster child for immigration. My sister was so amused she snapped about a dozen or so pictures of that.

We got to the hotel and Lanes and I were really sad to see my sister and Uncle Gene go. We were also exhausted. The rest of the days went by quickly. We set about finding an apartment. That was our priority. We also tried to get our banking sorted out and were astounded at the level of incompetence and confusion at our branch. It is nothing like the branch in Colombo. Customer service? More like customer disservice. The person we are dealing with is just so darn nice though. Makes it hard to tell her she is not dealing with a full deck of cards.

Any old how we were lucky and found an apartment in a couple of days and by day five, we moved in. Our container came in the next week and we were so eager to set up, within two days we unpacked and sorted everything out. Then realized maybe we should have sent some more stuff.

We are doing a LOT of waiting. Waiting 21 days for the folks to come and fix our internet, cable and
telephone (apparently one can live without these things—it’s not pleasant, but can be done), waiting 12 days for the folks that brought our container here to come and take away the boxes(as per our agreement) and their doilies, which they left behind. Waited ten days for our SIN cards (fair enough), waiting 8-10 weeks for our PR cards, without which we cannot do our driver’s license. But we have only 90 days to use the international license, and right now tests are booked up till December. I don’t know how that will pan out. I’ll worry about that 60 days from now. I’m sending good vibes to the Canadian post that our cards will come soon. Waiting perpetually for our credit cards to come in. Without which, we can’t do anything as we have no credit history. Waiting 30 days to get out of the mobile phone contract because they charge for everything. Next thing we know we will be billed per second just for breathing.

P is attending seminars on how to find jobs in Canada. I hope he just finds a job. Got some good tips on how his resume should be and some different angles to go for so I guess that’s something. He is treating finding a job, like a job, which I guess you have to.

As soon as we moved in to the apartment we found a preschool nearby for Lanes, as she was getting rather annoyed with her situation. They had one spot available and we jumped on it. On the first day she was hesitant to leave me. She has been scared that I might disappear since everyone else in her life did. She checks closely to see where P or I am all the time.

Another girl started the same day as her and that little girl was crying. Fortunately (I know that’s terrible), Lanes was so worried about that little girl she left me to go and investigate and comfort her. I took the opportunity to back away. She came running to me and asked if I would come back later. I said I always do and so Lanes merrily went to class and that was that. She has her moments though.

Some of the other moms drive me up the wall though. A rather snotty lot. I don’t know if it’s because we’re new, or Lanes is the only brown child in the school (fortunately Lanes is at that lovely age where she sees no differences between people—if only we all stayed that way) or if it’s because I walk her to school (looking rather frazzled since it takes me 15-20 minutes to get there and I always forget to brush my hair).

There are four or five of them that annoy me. All are cookie cutter versions of each other. Brown hair, drive SUVs, about three kids a piece, and super skinny. Like their stomachs caved in with each birth (perhaps that’s what annoys me the most). And the other kids who are waiting with them are always immaculately dressed and clean. How annoying is that?????????? Oh and there is another snotty one, blonde with Mystic Pizza hair, not a size zero, and always terribly late. We met her in the mall the other day and she looked away!!

Any old how they used to annoy me because not only would they not smile or say ‘hi’, they would deliberately look the other way or blankly into the distance, building a wall of conversation around themselves so that even if I tried to initiate the smile or the greeting, I could not. Now that’s just rude.
The other moms have been pleasant and spoken to me since. So that’s been nice.  And I like the vexation caused by the stepford moms because it helps me jet propel myself up and down the slopes with Lanes’ tempetuous stroller, but what made me feel really happy was hearing snippets of conversations like ‘now I can sit on the sofa and have two hours of tv to myself’. So at least they are thinking like me, even the cookie cutter moms.

On the plus side, we made friends with our neighbor. P spoke to her a couple of times and I met her in the laundry room. She was furiously scrubbing the dryers and came and scrubbed mine. I was highly flummoxed that an elderly person was cleaning for me, but then 2% of me was relieved that it was being cleaned. She was talking and talking and although I really had to get back upstairs, I waited since she did clean my dryer after all, even if I didn’t initially want it cleaned (now I have all these unwanted ideas about the cleanliness of the washer dryers, but it sure beats the laundromat).

Turns out the lady is from Thailand!! I spoke to her in Thai and she was delighted (as was I). She pops in every now and then with news of the apartment and bowl of soup, whether we want it or not:)  So I have taken to returning her bowls with whatever we have in the house, whether she likes it or not:)  Lanes has taken a great liking to her because when they first met, she gave her a doll and loads of chocolate. She loves going to visit ‘aunty G’ because she is sure she lives in a toy/candy store. She puts in requests for what she would like ordered for next time. Luckily, Aunty ‘G’ finds it amusing.

Aunty G was hoping I’d be a whiz in the curry department and was rather shocked to know I just started cooking. I have been surprised to find I like the kitchen. I don’t enjoy cooking, but I’m not scared of it anymore. And my roast chicken is delicious, if I do say so myself. P likes my mashed potatoes (made from scratch with a special secret ingredient). My repertoire is strictly Western at the moment.

Other than that we take great enjoyment in little things. Like the fabulous scenery. Lovely pine trees and mountains. Going for drives or just on the bus/train on sunny days. Walking. Or just putting sugar out and finding NO ANTS (or worse, roaches) a couple of hours later. Our building allows pets, and there are many dogs. I miss Muttley greatly. It makes me wish I had a job involving animals. But I guess that will have to wait till I get Lanes sorted (and P had a proper job).

Lanes has got taller and rowdier. She is no longer timid. I don’t know what happened. This also means she gets in trouble a lot more. Just today she was told not to do things that would result in her falling down. After 4pm, she feel down three times. Will she ever learn? So that’s our life so far.

If you are reading this, we no longer are waiting for our cable, internet, phone. So that can be scratched off our list.