Celebrate Good Times

Happy New Year! Thanks again for following my antics and joining me on this scenic detour through conundrums, coincidences, and sticky situations Fate is leading me on. I think I’ll get to a good place, but what’s the point of the journey if there are no good stories to show for it? Correction. To ‘show for it, eh’?

I must start using that exclamation liberally now that it has been one calendar year (and four months) since my poker faced spouse, P, my four year old cutie pie, Lanes, and I moved to Canada. It seems like eons have passed by since 2011 came about.

A year ago to date, P was fastidiously crafting resumes regardless of what was going on around him. I could have done the cancan with a bunch of cartoon rabbits and he still would have had no clue.  He was a man on a mission and he was going to find some employment come hail or high water (in our crazy a$$ ghetto fabulous apartment you can take that statement literally--we've had hunky firemen in our living room to show for it).

Lanes was just starting at a decent preschool and trying to make friends however it is that preschoolers do. She was just three then. As for me, I was new to a fully domesticated life, and I was just dealing with being a full time mom.  Having evaded cooking all this time, I finally realized that a spatula is not something surgeons holler for in TV hospital shows.

This year, P is at least at a temp job. The jury is still out on that, but it’s nice that he gets to leave the house and come back, regardless of how pitiful the pay is. Some job is better than no job. Lanes, now four, has her little clique of pals at her preschool. She excited about going to ‘big kids’ school’ (also known as kindergarten) in September. She is under the impression that that is a really big deal and no longer aspires to be a pirate or a parrot.

As for me, on the rare occasions that we do get to go to dinner parties and meet new people, I no longer have to mumble that Lanes is my job and my days are spent doing laundry, evading neighbors and shoving things in the oven. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but folks do then seem to sympathize and want to move onwards with the conversation. I almost feel like spicing it up by saying things like ‘oh and last Friday I discovered a rare breed of hissing porcupines’.  Just to liven things up.

This week, there was another spate of parties to celebrate the season and the usual question came up. As a reflex, I mumbled, ‘I write. I’m a writer!’. At first the words came out funny. Like the time I saw a beautiful coat and was sure it was too small for me but when I tried it on, it was so perfect, it could have been tailor made for me.  I said the words unbelievably at first, but then it fit like a pen clutching glove.

Between this blog, putting a book out on Kindle and working back achingly hard on my children’s book, I think I have earned that title (in addition to full time mom).  I was deliriously excited to have this new way to describe myself.  My usually short-winded spouse, P, fluttered towards me the first time I said it and chirped in ‘yes yes she is, she is a writer!’.  I was so delighted, I didn’t give him dirty looks when he snored that night.

We did a lot of waiting around in 2011. First, for Lanes’ PR card, which was missing in action for awhile, for no fault of ours. We waded blindly through our mail every day till it arrived (mind you we did see a postal strike this year). 

Second, for P’s job situation to balance out.  We waited in deafening silence for the phone to ring with that all important call. Third, for me to sort out my driver’s license.  We drove around in stunned silence while I navigated the narrow roads of the city.

All in all, we welcome 2012 with open arms. We hope it will bring good health and happiness to all those we love.  We will be ringing in the New Year just the three of us for the first time this year though, as my nutty sister and her family just landed in Seattle after visiting my parents’ in the motherland, where my father is going through yet another bout of chemo and dealing with cranky folks who won’t leave a sick person alone (that’s a whole other blog).

We were hoping to let Lanes stay up and party with us, because really no party is complete without her. We never have any idea what will come out of her mouth (I wonder where she gets that from?).   Her eyes were drooping by 10pm and she is now gurgling slightly in her sleep. 

P and I are waiting eagerly for midnight and the dawn of a New Year! Right after the wishing and clanking of glasses, P is going to brush his teeth and snuggle up with a book as it's way past his bedtime, and I am going to jump on the couch and channel surf and stay up way later than anyone's bedtime. We're rebels I tell you, rebels! Lanes will probably wake up around then and jump into our bed, or as she says it, the magic fairy brings her there, and she is not coming out of her own volition. 


I hear 2012 is the Year of the Dragon, according to the Chinese Calendar. As I am a ‘dragon’ , a feisty rather than ferocious one (although I do have quite the temper) I’m really hoping it will be a good one.

I think it’s about time everyone had a really good year, I even wish that for my crazy tummy rubbing neighbor who thinks I need a work out.  On that note, I have one hour to midnight so I better go and do something unusual like comb my hair and doll myself up for 2012. So happy happy New Year everyone, and to all more musings next week, where my shenanigans might lead me to save a furry friend or step up towards a long shelved aspiration...