March Madness

Wow. The last few days have been bonkers busy. I spent four hours with my lawyer and accountant on Wednesday and then on the way home did errands in prep for Zack's California trip (very early this morning) and Charlotte's family birthday party (last night). I was in American Apparel buying a couple of t-shirts for Zack when all of a sudden I had a complete low blood sugar crash. This is not surprising given that it was 2:30 p.m. and all I'd ingested so far that day was some Amazake (a heath-nut drink of fermented brown rice). I ran across the street to Whole Foods and got myself a huge lunch: veggies freshly-juiced , pea soup and two skewers of specialty-chicken yakitori. My hands were shaking and I was sweating as I inhaled the food. I zipped back to American Apparel...the crash had been so extreme that I couldn't even take the couple of minutes to pay before eating...and paid for Zack's shirts.With food in me I felt much better and as the cashier was ringing through the payment, I commented on the behind-the-counter display of "Butt" magazine that was peaking out of about five different-coloured canvas bags. "That's the magazine that created such a controversy, wasn't it? She nodded.

A couple of months ago, a very angry mom made a huge stink over the fact that she had been in American Apparel with her young teenage daughter and the daughter pulled "Butt" magazine that was part of a display on the floor of the store and opened it up to find what you would expect to find inside a magazine entitled "Butt"--an adult would or should know what they're in for if they open a mag like that but not necessarily a young teen. I said that I empathised with the mom but on the other hand, it is just "so American Apparel" and said I was glad that they had figured out a way to continue to be politically incorrect but not inappropriately so (my bfo*).

When I had first been in the store I had been on the phone with Kelly and had commented that when I was on the American Apparel website looking for a cotton dress for her to paint for me, that I had realized just how skanky many of the clothes were. Kelly said "Yeah, but in a 70's roller-skating in hot pants and knee hi's kind of a way." We had a good laugh and I said "Yeah, they should use the slogan 'retro skank' in their marketing." As a digression from my digression...I actually emailed American Apparel my suggestion and told them they could have it for free with just a modest request for some free product--of the non-skank variety--should they run with it. No word back yet but they promise to respond to all emails so I'll keep you all posted.

Okay, where was I...oh yeah...trying to build the case for how exhausting my Wednesday morning and afternoon were. I got home just in time for Charlotte to get picked up for jazz class. Zack was at volleyball practice and I took to my bed. Nate got home just before his godfather Sean came to pick him up to go for dinner. I was so tired that I called Sean while he was downstairs to say "Hi" and say that I just couldn't get out of bed.

On Thursday I made up a to-do list for Tom--Thank God for Major Tom who is kindly impersonating a personal assistant for a few months--and went to bed, trying to conserve enough energy to go to my book club that evening. I kind of felt obligated given how lovely the book club gang has been to our family with their frequent acts of kindness and delicous food that they have been leaving for the kids and me since I began chemo. I knew that I would have a blast once I was there but I was pooped. I had planned to take Zack to the mall to find a dress shirt, pant and a tie for his hockey trip...I couldn't believe it when I read the email that said that it had been decided that the boys would dress up for their travel days...some of the boys are at private schools and of course have such things...but Zack's wardrobe consists of three pairs of American Eagle jeans and a few t-shirts and hoodies...I actually had to email all of the parents to ask where to buy such things...anyways I realized that a trip to the mall was required...something that I do with great reluctance about twice a year. I was so tired that I asked Tom if he would take Zack and offered the services of Charlotte, fashion consultant extraordinaire. Charlotte said she would only go if Laura went, and Laura--who is eight-months pregnant--kindly agreed to partake of the shopping adventure which like any self-respecting 14-year-old guy, Zack was vehemently trying to get out of.

I stayed in bed but had the phone next to me in case there were shopping conflicts. The first call was Tom asking if Zack should get a light grey or black shirt to go with black dress pants. I said black thinking that he could use the outfit for my funeral if need be. Then I got a call from Zack asking me if he could get a pair of sunglasses to complete the outfit. "How much are they?" I asked. "$50 or $60," was Zack's reply and I said "No." A few minutes later I got another call from Zack. "Can I get a hat? It's a really nice hat." "What kind of a hat?" I asked. I could hear Zack conferring with Tom and Laura. "It's a bowler," he said. "Zack," I said "this a hockey trip not a theatre performance."

At about 6:45 pm, just before the kids got home, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. Then I figured out what to wear and put on my hottie wig and was almost ready when C-A came to pick me up for book club. The kids weren't the slightest bit sad to see me go as Deanna had come to hang out with them while I was out.

Book club was even more fun than usual which is really saying something. M. had selected Nigella Lawson's cookbook "How To Be a Domestic Goddess" as our book and everyone had been requested to bring a dish that used a recipe from the book for a tasting. Fun was had from the get-go but really heated up when L. made the comment that she loves cooking and cookbooks so much that she even takes them to bed with her. I commented that I could really see that in this case as NIgella's writing was so sensual. This led to a number of Nigella impersonations...one funnier than the next. I've never seen her "live" but apparently she has a TV show and that she is really known for working her hot bod and having close-ups of licking cake batter--finger in, turn of the wrist, tongue out, eyes rolled back, creamy batter to lips, and mmmmm. I don't actually ever need to see the show now, because I don't think that Nigella herself could top M.'s impersonation.

Normally we rate the chosen book prior to our taking turns expounding on our bfo*'s and then afterwards, but this time we decided that we could rate it based on how many times A. had to remove her steamy glasses that had fogged up from laughing so hard. On that scale, the book got a "3."

I got home after 11pm and Zack was still up. He asked me to tie his tie (only two years of private school--grade 7 and 8 but tying a tie really is like riding a bicycle) and then told me that he wanted to show me his outfit and disappeared down to the basement to get changed. All I could think of was being horizontal but this was obviously a big deal to him and I waited. Zack came up looking oh-so handsome and with the smooth moves of Fred Astaire took me in his arms and started ballroom dancing me around the kitchen. Us being us we then broke out into conga-line dancing with a bit of free stylin' to finish it off. It was a precious, heart-exploding timeless few moments, tucked safely away in my memory bank as a counter-balance to the inevitable feisty Mama/feisty son conflicts.

I'm sure that some of you who have been following the blog are wondering why there isn't a photo of Zack any where to be found. Is it because he's got a face that only a Mama could love? No...it's because he is 14 and when I try to take a photo things like this occur:


Friday morning and afternoon went like Thursdays: met with Tom and then went back to bed where I stayed until it was time to take a shower and get dressed up to take Charlotte out for her family birthday party with Zack, Tom and Laura. Charlotte received a new top after school as I knew she'd appreciate having something new to wear to the whatever and whereever...no questions allowed...birthday event. Her official birthday is March 21st but she's going to be away so we had decided to do it just before Zack went to California. We went to the Eatery and then came back home for Evi cake--so named as it was the kid's great-grandmother's very favourite triple-chocolate mousse cake from Sweet Obsession and Evi would use any excuse to order one including for a time any dessert for any dinner that the kids and I came to--as well as gifts.

I was a documenting fool and got Tom and Laura in on the act so there are actually some great photos of the evening. First are some shots that reveal something of my son's theatricality:


















But with some very strong intention, bribing, threatening and cajoling, there were also some photos like this:



And the birthday girl? Well she and the camera lens are very sympatico and so there's no shortage of great pics of her:















Tom and Laura and Baby Shelby (about 5 weeks away from being welcomed to the world) went home at about 10 pm. "But there's no photos of Laura," you protest. "She can't go home 'til we have a photo of her!" Ah, but you forget that at eight months pregnant, Laura has pre-approval prior to all personal photo posting and you my dear followers tend to get a bit testy if there are days between posts.

The party was over but now there was the packing up of Nate who left for California very early this morning. I stayed up until 12:30 pm making sure that all his documents were filled out,. His clothing, well I take no responsibility for that as he would not let me within 6 feet of his carry-on suitcase but I did notice that "packing" to him means throwing everything into his bag from across the room and means that he may earn the award for the most crumpled Canadian ever to visit California.

I fell into bed exhausted but happy, having spent such a delightful evening with my family. But then, barriers down from the effort of the day, I was suddenly awash in tears as I wondered how many more birthdays I will get to celebrate with my kids.

*bfo=big fat opinion in Zoë-speak"