It Hurts To Be Away From The Wild Things

On rainy days such as this, I like think and create and imagine.  Today *Mila* and I have been doing just that.  In between the mountain of phone calls and paperwork I have sitting inside of my wee brain, we've been tubing, "you tubing" that is.  I can't help but wonder about the new movie 'Where the Wild Things Are' and wonder what Maurice Sendak, author of the "Wild Things" book, is thinking to himself. 

There are a few creative imaginations in this world that I have carried forward from my childhood.  The imaginations that make you feel comforted in sadness and rain.  Mr. Sendak's creativity and imagination has carried my family through a very weak period. 

You see, we lost our own Wild Thing to Where the Wild Things Are.  He never sailed back.  As hard as that is, sometimes I can't help but wonder what our Wild Thing is up to with those yellow eyed monsters from the pages of Sendak's book.  I have a dog-eared copy that the Wild Thing's big brother gave me.  It was new when he gave it to me and we've loved and cherished that book just like we did 30 odd years ago.  *Mila* learned to read it as one of her first reads and I love the layout, the illustration and the emotion in the story.  It can be interpreted in so many ways by so many generations.  For us, the book has personal meaning, and I try to take the sadness away from the book each time I read it. 

While the movie is released into theatres today, my eyes are welled up with tears.  I can't bear to go to it and sit in a dark theatre with boxes of Kleenex.  I have to wait until it's released on DVD so I can watch my very own copy over and over and over. 

Thank you Spike Jonze for bringing this story to life.  I'm sure that you've done a wonderful, tasteful job and thank you and thanks to Maurice Sendak for the reminder.  The reminder to put our imaginations to work and share our vision with the world, no matter how crazy it may seem.  'Where the Wild Things Are' was a banned book.  To those 'diots who banned the book:  You Just Don't Get It!

Oh and for my brother's sake, "Trailer Park Boys:  Countdown To Liquor Day" opens tonight as well.

signed, the willow

It Never Happened

This is great...So, after a day of *Mila* being deathly ill, *Steve* not believing her and chalking it up to her aspiring Hollywood career, this is what transpires. *Mila* sleeps almost the whole day. Waking up only to take one sip of gingerale and gaze starry-eyed at the ceiling for 5 minutes. *Mila* wakes up and decides that she feels better. So we head down to her favourite spot in front of the 55" tv and she commands the shows, a bowl of crinkly Lays, and 40 oz. of gingerale. I remind her to take little sips and I stick my supper in the oven. I come back downstairs, take a long sigh and whammo! There it is kid barf everywhere. She nailed the couch, the dog, my sweater, my pants. We are still in the basement. "Get upstairs, kiddo", I remind her calmly that it is okay and "Don't look at your jammies!" Yes, I was calm. Me. Calm. She continued to splatter the stairs and we lost the dog. She burped and blat! "Get into the bathroom." Why do kids scream and cry when they throw-up? Why? Stop crying! After all was said and done, I used some eau de lysol on everything and away we go upstairs for a bath. Now she's screaming because the bathtub is going to overflow. In 2009, maybe! I do the laundry, get her tucked into her bed and play with her Strawberry Shortcake dolls. All the while, Tempra takes over and off she goes to la-la land. Me? I'm still playing with Tea Blossom and 2 Strawberry Shortcakes. I call *Steve* to say he better take a cab from the GO station as she's in no shape to drive down to get him. Time elapses from 6 to 7. She awakens after her little nap. She's revived and 100% better. Seriously. No fever, no barf, no snot. Just like normal and with that comes that chitter chatter blibber blabber. No! Stay sick! Please, just 5 more minutes. *Steve* walks into the door after the miracle child has recovered and she dashes down the stairs as if it were just another Wednesday night. OMG! All day long, sick like sick. And her Dad comes home and she's better. It's like it never happened.

signed, the willow

Trailer Park Boys Update

...no date tonight, too tired.

I awoke this morning and found Julian's car outside my house. Did he sleep there last night? Did Ricky sleep there?

Aye Chihuahua.

signed, the willow

UPDATE: No, Ricky did not sleep in that car on Saturday night. And I hope no one did, because the fool left his window down by 2 inches and woke up to find his car full of snow this morning. A good foot of snow and rain fell on and in his car. Poor Julian.

A Pavlovian Response to the Disrespect Button

Much the same as the dog wagging her tail when *Steve* punches out and comes home from work, *Mila* has her own special response to the button pushing. "Beep Beep" and ...

*Mila*: "Waaahhhh! I said it's the water's fault for me choking and it forced me to swallow it down the wrong pipe Mom!"
Me: "*Mila*, you cannot breathe in when you put your face in the water!"
*Mila*: "I SAID IT'S THE WATER'S FAULT. DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME?"
Me: "*Steve*, she's all yours!"

Then I was approached by the mini-bully in the kitchen when she placed her three-year old hands on her three-year old hips and told me how it was again! I think her heard her utter something like this: "It is SO party night. And you can't be mad at me. It's your fault and you have to stop getting so mad at me! I didn't do anything and now I'm having party night...stomp! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!..."

When does this end? If she's doing this to me now, what will happen when she's 16? "I am SO taking the car! I don't care if I don't know how to drive and have a boyfriend who is 21. I am taking your car and I won't be home until Wednesday! MOM!" Gasp*! I'm going to pass out and will not be regaining any consciousness until 2059.

On a brighter note, she did ask me how to spell "RYE". I guess all that 'Trailer Park Boys' is finally kicking in! All that hard work I did when she was in the womb, cussing like Ricky, mispronouncing like Ricky, holding cat circuses like Bubbles, driving with mixed drinks like Julian. It paid off...be sure to click on the Etsy personifications of the TPBs.

signed, the willow

She comes by it honestly

Waking up to the pitter patter of feet is one thing. In my house, I heard the tip, tap, clunk clatter of dress-up heels. When you are 3, you get out of bed, grab your teddy bear, blankies (notice the plural here) and don your latest heels. I wouldn't dare walk down two levels of this house in heels. Especially on the crooked and slanted wood stairs to the basement. Brave, that's what I call it.

Now, this is the part where I have to give my little girl a pseudo-blog-alias. She's got the same name as a port city of Nova Scotia and Australia, blonde hair and blue eyes like Cinderella, wears heels throughout the entire day, loves the colours pink and purple in all shades and tones, and I could go on. After all this, she told me she wants to have the name "Lassie". She keeps insisting that it is a little girl's name and not a dog's name.

Me: How about a different name?
Her: I would choose "Lassie".
Me: But sweetheart, there are so many names. Lassie?
Her: No. "LASSIE!"
Me: How about if I use the name Mila for you?
Her: NO! "LASSIEEEE!!!"

CBC Kids has a new show based on the Richard Scarry books and characters. Who didn't love Richard Scarry books as a kid? All those great animal characters. Everything was so neatly labeled in his books. I love labeled things. I should make labels and but them on everything in this house. Brings me back to my grocery store childhood. My second home was the grocery store my parents owned and operated. We used to ride the conveyor belt up and down to the haunted basement. There was a strange rectangular shaped hunk of concrete that had been placed in the basement floor as if someone or thing were buried under it. Everyone who was in that basement felt watched from behind the old freezer down there. Anyhow, back to Richard Scarry. This show is only 15 minutes long and as *Mila* tells me "Oh, I just LOVE it", hear that expressed as a 55 year old cosmopolitan NY'er would say it. Seriously.

After that show, on comes Cory Bowles from the "Trailer Park Boys" narrating for the kids' show "Poko". Yes, Cory as in 'Cory & Trevor' fame. And if you've ever watched the "Trailer Park Boys" you know that imagining Cory on a kids' show is absurd. Now, I'm craving a good Conky episode. If you are unfortunate enough to be living in the U.S. with a weak dollar and a lack of "Trailer Park Boys", I hope this will cheer you up. Ladies & Gentlemen, Trailer Park Trash, I present to you The "Trailer Park Boys". TA DA!
I need to get this jersey for my brother. It's too bad that they don't sell the 'Season 5 Ricky Hounds tooth button-up shirt' or I'd be all over that like Lucy.

I'll end it here.

signed, the willow