Nuf Said

Really? Going out like this? Yup!

signed, the willow

I want to take this moment to say...

There is a dog hair on my cupcake. So, I will not be eating it.

signed, the willow

Forgive me Banana Republic, for I have sinned

About 5 years ago when my belly was full of chocolates and baby, I promised myself that within 2 years I would waltz into Banana Republic and barely fill out a pair of size 2 jeans. Okay, so that didn't happen. I dreamed about those jeans and yes, I did even find an old pair of American Eagle pants in a 2 that I literally stuffed myself into. After consuming no meat and downing a a bottle of "Liquid Bum Party" pills and the purchase of a treadmill, I can safely say that I will officially scratch Banana Republic off my list. Sorry, I really wanted it to happen but it won't be happening.

This Sunday we went in pursuit of a Sleeping Beauty costume for *Mila*. Being February, there aren't a lot of costumes around and she was pretty adamant that she wanted one for her birthday. In talking to a friend, she suggested we try a second hand store.

Second hand stores when I was a little girl consisted of stinky old black plastic garbage bags full of moth-eaten sweaters in an over-packed Sally Ann. And yes *Steve*, I believe I spent a good chunk of my childhood there with my grandmother as she volunteered a good chunk of her life to sorting and bagging and selling and providing to the needy. We used to uncover a lot of great treasures there and I can remember my mom cringing when I would ask if I could take home the spit-stained peach or turquoise dress from 40 years ago, so I could wear it to school. Hey, Gran suggested it might be a clever look for the Spring.

So, theses joints have changed an incredible deal from where they were 30 years ago. The clothes are hand picked, clean, scent-free and come from top stores like...ahem...Banana Republic. Yep. So, what was I worried about. Maybe after I picked up several pair that looked like the ones that were currently in my closet, i.e. ripped to be cool, I decided on a cute little pair for $5, in a size 4 (sorry, no 2s for me ever again).

Last night I was up watching the Oscars until the bitter end. Can we say "Slumdog"? Why is there always a clear winner at the Academy? I don't get it sometimes. When Sean Penn won for Best Actor, I yelled out excitedly "BRAD PITT!!!" *Steve* glanced over at me with that look that husbands sometimes get for their wives when their wives yell out Brad Pitt at random on inappropriate occasions. I guess I was just so happy to not hear Mickey Rourke, that Sean Penn was the closest thing to Brad Pitt. Have you seen Mickey Rourke lately? Can we say "Slumdog"? (Sorry Slumdogs).

signed, the willow

If I yelled "NO" at you, would you listen?

You might think that I am starting off this blog entry about yelling at your five year old. Not true. For one, my child is still on the brink of five and for two, I don't need to yell at her unless she walks into traffic (and yes, even the most brilliant children get distracted and do this)! I have for a long time had an issue with saying NO to people and confronting them. On most, if not all, occasions it has caused me duress and even heartache. When you feel too much it can become a detriment.

Recently I was mentioned at a meeting that they would enlist me for my services. I wasn't there and of course found out through the tight little grapevine that I was volunteered for a position I knew nothing about. When I tried to say no in my polite way of saying "Well, I can't do this part and I could do that part" it wasn't regarded. Next thing I knew I was getting my husband involved and I had hoped that I wouldn't have to make up a terrible excuse about the whole thing. So, I came right out and said "no"....and now I wait to see what will come of it. Will my no be discounted? Will they hear only what they want to hear? I think we all know what will happen then.

Then this little school incident happened yesterday. *Mila* came home in tears as some boy in her class took ownership of her artwork and took it home. Okay, I know it's Junior Kindergarten and I explained to her that she needs to put her name on things. But the little boy lied about it and *Mila* needed my power as a parent to defend her. She was clearly upset about it and so I did something I thought would be more difficult. I confronted the boy's mother. She basically discounted it and thought it was funny that he would lie. Almost as if it were clever. It wasn't. It hurt a little girl's feelings and he's lying! Why are you letting your kid lie? Now, I know you're probably thinking to yourself "How the Hell do you know that your kid is telling the truth?" Here is how I know...I've spent many days in that classroom with the kids and I know that the little boy will lie about the most foolish of things. Not sure why he does it. Maybe to gain attention. Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe I'm doing what I should do, which is to stick up for my child. And maybe my daughter will now witness what I have known for many years, some people JUST DON'T GET IT!

signed, the willow

Thankfully

My 5 Loves for the day:

1. Listening to *Mila* read a story to me. The whole book!

2. *Steve* sending me the Pro Canada Rant from Newsweek. Not sure if I love him more for sending it, or the article itself.

3. Calling my mother and being able to say anything.

4. Thankful that I grew up in a home where parents loved one another and loved their children. Thankful that I can give the same to my family.

5. Talking to my niece on the phone and listening to her sweet little giggle that is changing into a teenage snicker.

signed, the willow

Beyonce is stuck in my child's head

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh...If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it...All the single ladies....I'm a single lady....put your hands up in the air"

Yesterday when she asked us to turn up the radio, I really believed it was because she didn't want to hear her father and I talking in the car. I didn't expect to hear her singing "I'm a Single Lady" later that night. Today on our way home from the grocery store, same thing. She asked me to turn up Beyonce on the radio, to which she sung out loud at the top of her lungs. Gosh it was funny to turn around and see this little blonde girl strapped into a child restraint belting out Beyonce. I feel like *Mila* has had her brain assumed by Jay-Z and he implanted Beyonce in it. She's not yet 5 and white! But she's convinced she's 28 and black now.

signed, the willow

Famous People Who Look Like Pockets (Polly Pockets)

Carol Burnett

Barbara Eden as Jeannie

Courtney Love from her Hole days

Ellen Degeneres

Britney Spears pre-really-crazy-breaking-point


Julianne Moore

Demi Moore

Gwen Stefani

Chrissy Snow

David Hasselhoff (Baywatch outfit is sheer coincidence)

Willow of the Wood

signed, the willow

Cake Train Wrecks

A friend sent me this link to Cake Wrecks. At first I wondered if I would be amused by ugly cakes. By the third cake down my snickers turned into giggles, which turned into belly laughs, which turned into gaffaws! It is the misspelling of Valentine's Day that got me. Now I'm hooked.

signed, the willow

Happy Birthday Suma

We've loved you (and cursed you) for the past 8 years. Every time you smile at me and say "hu-row" I tell myself I can't believe I chose you. You've been a kind friend to us all and we're lucky to have such a sweet dawg...xoxoxo

signed, the willow

Ruh-Ruh-Ruh-Ruh

*Mila* has a game that either she made up or she learned it in school. She makes the sound of the letter and then you have to guess the word she is thinking of. Well today that letter was "R" and the word was "Rutabagel".

signed, the willow

Life was a song, You came along, I laid awake the whole night through

February is turning into a movie month around here. I don't have the chance to watch a movie, mostly because any kind of movie plot will keep me up all night believing it could happen to me AND *Mila* is awake past nine-thirty and I'm out like a light at eight. Don't worry, *Steve* puts her to bed. After they eat a 12-pack of donuts and down a 2 litre bottle of Pepsi, it's really no wonder they are night owls.

So far this month I have endured a Hilary Duff movie with *Mila*, and last night Suma and I enjoyed "Singin' In The Rain" with my "Hollywood dead boyfriend", Gene Kelly.

Okay, so maybe she slept through it.

And maybe Gene fell in love with this girl.

I love the part when the newspapers spin in with the hottest news! Big Bonanza for Diction Coaches. Were they like Speech Pathologists?

I want like 10 of these vowel posters.
When Donald O'Connor dances beside Mr. Kelly, it becomes obvious that Gene has lifts in his shoes.


Then Gene has to go and kiss this girl.

And then he sings and dances in the rain.

It's the over-bleached blonde on the right that Gene is supposedly involved with and his to film all his movies with (like Brad & Angelina). But she talks like a midget trapped in a closet with a sinus cold. If only they had a plan to make the movie work with Blondie and her annoying voice. Does anyone have any good ideas? Then Donald O'Connor comes up with the new contemporary plot of the movie. It involves a sandbag knocking somebody's skull so that they can have a French Renaissance dream.

So they get Gene's brunette girlfriend to dub over Blondie's voice. Great! Her again!

Thanks to Donald, they can include some more gratuitous scenes of Gene tripping the light fantastic.

Voila!

The singing and dancing numbers keep me tuned in. This must have been filmed in glorious Technicolor.

Gene tips his hat at me...

...says goodbye to the policeman who is about to arrest him for splashing in the puddles.

Oh Gene! Goodnight. I'll see you in Paris next weekend.

signed, the willow

Parade of Naked Dolls

After her lobotomy and hair transplant, Tender Love shined herself up with some grease despite the fact that she had 38 years of transported grime all over her body.

Surfer Girl Hawaii Style pouts after she finds out that it is February and it's -25 degrees Celsius in Canada. Love her shorts. Not her head, it's deflatable at times.

Aw, Kelly. Named after a cousin of mine and the Kelly green colour she chooses to wear as her arms are permanently clad in the fabric.

Hula Babe is babe-o-licious, even if she lost one entire eye's worth of eyelashes. The blue eyeshadow is so vintage and suits her colouring, don't you agree?

March on Sister! Cinnamon tucked her hair doodler back in for the Gay Pride parade. Not to worry, her mullet will be cranked out in no time. Simply release by pressing her belly button.

This one scares me a bit. Are her eyes in fact open? She reaches out for me like she wants something from me, like a brain or other vital organ. I know she's Hawaiian based on the fact that she wears that pooka shell necklace, but I'm thinking she really resembles a Sri Lankan grandmother.

Enjoy! Dolls of the 70s.

signed, the willow

Letters, We Get Letters, We Got Lots and Lots of Letters

After finding myself struggling with sniffles, chills and lack of ambition today, I found a stash of memorabilia (for lack of a better word).

Inside this overstuffed and stretched out plastic GAP bag from the 90s were pictures my niece and nephew had drawn, programs from the 1999 Winnipeg Pan Am games, tickets to the Manitoba Theatre Company for "A Streetcar Named Desire", and a stack of random letters I had saved.

Some letters were from my husband. Not too many though. They were mostly cards and he seemed to have a knack of finding a card that said pretty much everything he wanted to say and then he'd sign his name to it, as if to say "Yup, that pretty much sums it up. Let's get on with things, shall we?"

My mom had addressed quite a few to me in my maiden name form to various addresses. Then she learned how to use the computer to type up her letters and didn't know how to use the cursors and backspace keys on the dinosaur machine, so she left the grammatical/spelling errors and subsequently corrected them with Liquid Paper and a ballpoint pen. These were hilarious. She wrote of the neighbours, crazy things that happened to my dad, the mis-adventures of my niece and nephew, as well as a pasted in photo of a mountie, random local newspaper clippings or some craft project.

Then came the stash from a friend of mine that I had saved for 20 years. I can't believe the time passes like that. This friend spent her summers in my home town, visiting her grandparents. We seemed to have a lot of boyfriends that we must have wrote back and forth about and the numerous squabbles that were associated with the boyfriends and other supporting cast members. Looking back, those heartaches were so painful, so real, so stabbing and everlasting. Now, I have trouble remembering who Billy's roommate was, which Jeff we were referring to (was he Billy's roommate?), or why we all spelled our names with an "i" at the end.

I love the part about how I was going into Dentistry and my friend was so amazed that her friend's sister was making $12/hr. Or was it $10/hr? Remember, this was the 80s, Northern Ontario and we really didn't have any trouble thinking about how many cover charges that would clear at the night clubs in the city.

signed, the willow

Suma & the Spelling Bee - A Doggy Tale

With so many sick days at home for *Mila*, my patience is wearing thin. I think she's taken the words "You can have whatever you like" a little too serious lately. So, I dragged her out today, after shoveling for the 19th time this week, for a little walk with Suma and I.

Now, Suma has been known to be very communicative in her almost 8 years. When she was a puppy, she would yawn out words like "hello" every morning to wake *Steve* and I up. Words that sounded more like "HAH-WOE". Today Suma decided to show off the fact that she too is learning how to read and write like *Mila*. So she expressed herself creatively in several snowbanks along the walk. First she scribed an "S" into the snow bank. I didn't think much of it, other than the fact that my dog waivers so much while she pees, while other dogs make a direct hole from the top of the snowbank to the ground below. A few steps further to the next driveway where she managed to empty her bladder again, a whole 2 seconds after her previous attempt, in the shape of a "U". Oh good God, where is she going with this? I dare not look any further into her messages in the snow. If she was trying to spell her name, that's one thing. But if she has messages that visitors from another planet gave her, I'm going to call David Letterman.

signed, the willow

Cirque du People Who Are Bendy

Gosh, about 6 or so years ago, I paper mached a series of Cirque du Soleil "creatures". I had been inspired by a lovely artist who made her own from ceramic and I copied them for my own personal use (they sat on shelves and my Christmas tree, some went to my mom). I guess that's allowed. I never bothered to sell any as I never felt they were good enough. Oddly enough, they have had broken limbs, lost their heads and apparatus, but I have never been able to part with them. They came from some little special place inside of me that I feel I will never have back (pre-motherhood).

signed, the willow