Just a littly PUSHY?

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This article about "push presents", which ran in last Thursday's NY Times, has been forwarded to me by a dear friend who knows how to get my panties in a twist. Titled "A bundle of joy isn't enough?", the piece focuses on the practice of men giving their birthing wives /girlfriends gifts (often referred to as "Push presents", which I find a particularly revolting term) as a way to celebrate the birth and show their appreciation for everything the mom endured.

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The piece suggests that many women have come to expect these gifts, though some women interviewed say they feel such an expectation is silly. Some men interviewed say they are cool with giving such gifts, while others apparently think such a practice is ludicrous.

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What the hell? My friend (who is now a first time mom to be) is undecided on where she stands on this issue. I, however am not so reserved.

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I cannot believe that women a)would expect or b) accept anything called a PUSH PRESENT.

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To me, that is more insulting than anything. I am not saying that after 17 hours of pushing I wouldn't want a nice pair of diamond earings, but are you kidding me?!

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What does the card read? "Thanks for pushing. You're swell!"

Maybe it's just me. I never got a push present for my kids.
But what the hell do I know? We got divorced, maybe that was the golden ticket?

Merry Christmas

Wishing you a wonderful next few days!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you.

too politically correct

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Today I took the kids to the mall to buy kid suitcases. (We're going on a trip with them to Disneyland next May, and they got to each choose a suitcases as part of their Christmas gift)
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So there we are, in the midst of mall santas and over caffeinated shoppers, having just completed our purchase, when my youngest says Merry Christmas to the sales lady as we walk away.

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Now what would you think the correct response would be such a sentiment from a 5 year old? A smile, and a nod, perhaps a "merry christmas to you too" back?
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NOPE.
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She told my 5 year old: " You should say happy holidays, since not everyone celebrates Christmas".
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My daughter just looked at her with a blank expression on her face.Then she looked up at me. I could see the sales person waiting for me to echo her sentiment, and to use this opportunity to teach my child the 'correct' way to greet someone during December.
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Instead I am going to teach her how to distinguish old bags from regular people.
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Having a discussion about politically correct Christmas greetings is not a discussion I want to have with my children. In fact it ranks right up there with the conversation about why Jake in her class has two daddys.
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It's not something I'm getting into with 5 year olds.
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Here's my question to you:
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How far are we going with this politically correct crap? You tell me! Why can' t a child say "merry Christmas" to another without being given a lecture? Why are we being sensored?
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I don't get it.
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Even if someone else doesn't celebrate Christmas, that doesn't mean we have to hide the fact that we do. Why would that even be offensive to someone? It shouldn't be.
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It's not like I'm putting someone else's beliefs down.
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I can talk like this because I experienced first hand what it is like to move here, and be a minority. I came to this country when I was 14. I had to learn a different language, different customs and different traditions. I have never felt insult if a tradition was different than mine. I was the one who moved here, if I didn't like it tough! After all, I chose to move here!
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And that is exactly why I hate how careful we've become as a nation to not offend any minorities with our opinions, our traditions and our culture. You know what? Most people who moved here from another country, have had bigger problems than being offended by someone celebrating Christmas!
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I refuse to teach my children to apologize for who they are. That doesn't mean I don't want them to be sensitive to others, it just means they don't have to be scared of sharing their opinions too.

sluts or skanks? Neither, just a new girl

Yes, I am referring to our new employee we just hired. Lovely lovely girl, all of 19 year old and more flakey than the snowflakes in my backyard.

But it's not in a bad way, just amusing. I have a window in my office so I get to watch the interaction daily. Have I mentioned I work in a mostly male field? (only male workers, only male clients) I am -should correct that, was- the only female there.

In walks Stacey. Let's call her that because you won't know if it's real or not anyway :-)

Fresh young meat. You could see the guys, circling like vultures.

Yup, circling.

So, like a bad accident, I watch. I pause and I look out my window.

Here, I'll draw a picture for you:

19, young and blonde. Her wardrobe must be left over from her last job as a call girl, because all she wears is skin tight shirts and short short skirts. When she wears jeans they're super low cut. So you have no choice but to notice her, um assets.

She's sweet as pie, but clueless. Men have two views to choose from. If they're in front of her, and she's at the desk -while they are standing mind you- they get to look down her shirt. If they're behind her, watching her lean over her desk, they get to see the pretty rhinestones in her g-string.

Win win situation for all.

Except that my boss is now asking ME to address this delicate situation, and to 'take her under my wing' so I can help her fit in better. He means make her more prude-ish like me :-)

Now I am not one to be at a loss for words, but I don't want to be the one telling her anything. And that guy in the office upstairs, I don't want to talk to him about deodorant either!! There are just some things that cannot be brought up delicately.

Hmmm... maybe if I am her "Secret Santa" and buy her a sweater, maybe that'll work!

Are we 20 something?

This weekend was one of the funnest weekends in a long time.

It was our company's long awaited Christmas party (yes, a little early). Each year, the boss invites all of us and our families to Whistler. For those of you who are not familiar with Whistler, here's a hint: it's where part of the 2010 Winter Olympics will be held, they are co-hosting with Vancouver.

It's a winter wonderland resort, about 1.5 hours away from here.

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Each year he splurges on this fantastic trip and we all look forward to it. This year was especially great since all of us were either newlyweds or recently engaged. So we were looking forward to spending some quality time with some adults our age.

On Friday night after we got there we took care of

business first:

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1. Check into the suite.

2. Go to village and find booze.

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Once we've successfully completed our mission in the village, we headed back to the hotel for the hot tubs outside. It felt like frostbite on my feet just walking to them outside -remember it's snowing in Whistler- but once inside the hot tub, all was well.

Here is where we stopped acting like 30-somethings and turned back into 20 year olds.

Someone mentioned a small get together in room 619. Sure we went.

And here are some picture from this very mature event:

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The girls before we got hammered. After a lot of drinks later....it looked like a frat party

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Us girls sitting on one of the girls husbands after one too many drinks. And here is a close up of the poor guy's face in case you missed it

Jp had the girls going wild for him

We went back to our room around 3am, in pretty rough shape.

I wish I had a picture to describe what happened next. I passed out on the bed, while JP was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. By the time he came back out, I guess the distance to the bed seemed too long, because he only made it half way there.

He woke up in the middle of the night to find himself -still fully clothed- halfway on the bed. His head and torso had reached the end of the bed, but sadly the rest of him didn't. He woke up with the lower part of his body still kneeling on the floor, beside the bed.

Now that is drunk.

Bigaffes and Hostables

I have just opened my Christmas present. Yup, my Christmas present. Jp, bless his soul, bought me something awesome, and me, being the wicked witch of the west, made him show me what it was. Hehe.

It's a brand new freakin' laptop. I've been having computer problems lately...or haven't you noticed? It's fantastic. And portable. (a key element in a laptop, I must say) Sure am glad JP fessed up. I hate surprises, even good ones. Aren't I a drag?

I should tell you about my absentee blog-ism as of late. (new word I've just made up) Because we're so smart, we decided to play 'trading spaces' / 'musical chairs' at our house. Oh yeah, just before the holidays seems like a perfect time to renovate every single room of the home. My son moved into a brand new room that we added on, so we had drywallers and flooring installers here last month. Then of course we had to paint. (by we I mean I) Cunning as I am, I convinced my son it looks fantastic with just one wall painted, and left the other three the way they were.

My daughter -who up to now shared a room with her brother - got our bedroom. (the kids had the master bedroom before, and our room was smaller) But now that he has his own room, and she didn't want to stay in the big room all alone, she also moved into a new room. Our old one. More painting, furniture shopping/assembling, and hair pulling -by me~

Only for lack of options, we ended up in the kids old room ...which origianlly was the master bedroom, it's huge and it's got great potential. But now, after doing the kids rooms we're exhausted, and want a break from painting/renovating. So, we've decided we'll not paint til the new year.

Too bad the kids room was multicolored. One wall yellow, one lime green one blue and one pink. I think I know what it feels like to be on acid now. Wanna try? Come over and try and sleep in my bedroom.

It sure does bring me back though, staring at those walls. (no no, not to the time I did mushrooms in highschool) but to the days when they were little. And when they used to talk like little kids: Bigaffe and Hostable. (my daughter couldn`t say giraffe and hospital for the longest time, and now being in their room makes me long for the days when she used to talk like that.)


So there you have it boys and girls, I`m back and I`m sitting in my psychadellic room on my new laptop.

Poor JP, I wonder what he`s gonna buy me for Christmas next?

Los Angeles - Day One, Two and Three - you ready?

Day One -getting there

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The morning of the trip, I get a surpsise request by the hospital. We need to do a follow up ultra sound to see how everything is bla bla bla...can you come in?

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Of course, I chug all the water I can possibly handle, kiss the kids goodbye, drop them off at the daycare for grandma to pick up later and off we go. At the hospital, after being poked and prodded some more, they release us just in time for us to get to the airport in time.

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And we're off! Once on the plane we have the pleasure of sitting directly in front of the parent who doesn't believe in any discipline and they have the crazy 18month old toddler who kicks and screams and runs all around the aisles. Yes, that was a fun 3 hours!

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We got to LA in one piece, and headed for the MARRIOTT hotel. When we get there, they inform us - to our surprise - that we are going to have to press PH on the elevator. (THAT'S RIGHT, Penthouse!!!!)

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We immediatly want to go out and check out our surroundings so we take JP's mega camera out, and try not to look like tourists and blend in, hehe.

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We headed straight to Hollywood boulevard, and saw the usual celebrities hanging out, you know, Jack Sparrow, Minnie and oh yeah Tina Turner accepting some suspicious cash from Charlie Chaplin. It was great fun.

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Day Two - name dropping

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For anyone who knows me well, fairly well or almost well, they'll tell you I LOVE LOVE LOVE fashion and anything to do with names in fashion.
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Rodeo Drive is only 3 blocks long, but those 3 short blocks constitute the most famous shopping district in America and probably the most expensive three blocks of shops in the world.

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Oh yeah, I did drag him there. He had no idea about Rodeo Drive (he kept calling it Rodeo, like the rodeo as in cowboy! Puleeeze!!) He looked at it once we got there and I'm sure he thought we wouldn't be there very long.
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But I wanted to visit my friends: Tiffany, Cartier, Valentino, Gianni Versace, Christian Dior, Dolce & Cabbana, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Armani and Hermes.

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I was in heaven. I tried on a $3000 pair of Versace shoes on. I fell in love with a beautiful $7,000 Hermes bag. And then, because my husband is the most wonderful man in the world, he took me into Tiffany's and actually bought me jewelry!! How cool is that?

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It was only a small lock pendant with my initial in it, but it cost way more than I can reveal here. I had a permagrin on for the next few hours!!

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We spent our evening in Santa Monica, walking around and having dinner and I just couldn't have asked for a better evening. It was awesome!

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Oh oh, did I mention we stopped at "Sprinkles" Cupcakes (which is only THE most famous cupcake store in all of LA - people line up for hours to buy them) and waited in line for some delicious to die for cupcakes.

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(this is the line up that we waited in to just get into the store)
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And Rosie O'Donnell and Julia Roberts have talked about them, so I had to try them (yup, I'm THAT shallow) Yum yum yum.

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Day three - all over

At last, sunday came. We awoke to the news that the California fires started about 20 minutes from the very spot we had walked and dined the night before. We actually are following the fires closely, only because for us it hit so close since we were just there, taking pictures of things that are now burned. Very odd feeling.

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By the way, I wanted to show you the picture of the plane that we boarded on the way back from LA to Vancouver. It's smaller than my freakin' living room!! Only 42 people in it. Have you ever seen anything like it? It was awful. I walked into the plane and almost started hyperventelating. (i hate flying as it is, and feeling like I'm in a shoebox does not help)

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JP exclaimed "oh, it's cute!" FYI... when I think of adjectives that I'd like to use while describing the plane that I'm in , "strong" "big" "safe" or even " massive" comes to mind, but not "Cute". Maybe that's just me.

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Just as we are about to taxi away from the gate the one lone flight attendant announces that the plane is experiencing a ' weight imbalance' and that they'd be looking for 2 volunteers to get off the plane and board a bigger plane 2 hours later.

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I almost hurt JP I shoved him in the side so hard. He waves his hand in the air, I jump out of my seat and start speed walking to the cabin door. And we're out!

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For our trouble we received 2 vouchers for $200 off each of our next ticket with the same airline, and got to fly home in a big comfortable plane that looked much friendlier. Take a look:

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I blinked and here I am.

Due to an abundance of cash, we took off to L.A. til monday. (actually we won a trip, but wouldn't it be nice if it were an abundance of cash?)

We'll be staying at a fancy-dancy hotel, and enjoying the lifestyle of the beautiful people. I can't wait to hit Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive baby!

(poor JP, i'm gonna so drag him along as we buy maps to the houses of the

rich and famous...teehee)

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So, the last real memory I have from my childhood is when my mom told me that my dad died at 11.

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Which is odd, because he is very much alive, but when I was 11, and living in Romania -communism and all- my dad decided to run across the border and see if he can escape it. He and my mom talked about it for years -I didn't know this then- and had decided that it was time.

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The problem is that in Romania, back then, people did 'dissapear' in the middle of the night, and whoever uttered a bad word about the dictator, did in fact 'vaporize' into thin air... it was not fun living there. A real live "big brother" type world (ever read 1984?)

Moving on.

When my dad ran, he knew that they'd question me and my mom to his whereabouts. My parents figured if I didn't know where he was, we'd both be safe. So, in my mother's infinite wisdom, once he left, she told me he died. Which I then believed for 3 years!! Yeah, that was fun.

Then one day, when I was 14, she tells me we're moving to Canada to reconnect with my dad. PARDON? (Oh yeah, she cost me years in therapy.) But anyway, back to the point.

I don't recall my childhood at all. I have this one memory and then the next thing I recall I am in highschool in Vancouver. All the big events I remember, my prom, my kids being born, but I have real trouble with the details. I am constantly getting in trouble from friends when they say "remember the time when?" and I always say "no".

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I sometimes wonder if this incident has anything to do with me "blocking" things out as my therapist liked to call it, but I'm not sure. Maybe I'm just kinda slow.

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Not sure what brought this thought on today. I was driving home, and thought "holy shit, my son's almost 8. When did THAT happen?"

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We love free shit!

I worked at the Vancouver Home show this weekend. The Vancouver 'home and garden' show I should say. It happens every year, may even be twice a year I think. Moms come from far and wide with strollers and carseats, in-laws and husbands dragged along.

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I used to be one of those women, but not this year. This year, I was one of the exhibitors. My company is one of western canada's distributor for hardwood flooring, so we had a booth there. ("booth' is a bit of an understatemtent. It was a $20,000 - 500sqft advertisement)

I couldn't believe the company paid as much for this as I did for my car!

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Anyway, once I was there, I had a chance to observe the kind of people who go to these things. They all look normal at first, but I think one gets dumber by the minute while inside a home show exhibition....

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Otherwise smart men and women seemed to gather around like caddle around the 'chef' who was chopping all the onions and green peppers. "Ooohs" and "Ahhhs" all around as the amazing chopper cut your chopping time in half. They were practically throwing money at this guy to get their hands on the new 'best kept secret' in the kitchen.

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Then there was the gal who demonstrates the swiffer mop. Oh, how glad everyone was to see her! Oodles of old ladies gasped as the mop cleans even residue that has been stuck on since the last time she cleaned....which incidentally was just a few minutes ago, with a different crowd.

The mop was $19.99 but WAIT, you get a second one FREE!! I'm telling you they were buying those stupid yellow mops like they were going out of style.

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There was another booth there with a guy demonstrating how he was loosing weight by having this big black belt strapped on to him. It was emitting heat apparantly and he would be sweating off the pounds without lifting a finger. He recommended wearing this gadget everywhere, to work, shopping, on dates. The fact that he's plugged into a machine, while he was belted in, apparantly is no cause for alarm. Just adds to the charm I guess.

I've come to two conclusions: First that these homeshows seem to be nothing more than an expensive over-hyped infomercial. Second, that I really appreciate NOT being in the retail industry after this weekend. (Our company does not sell directly to Joe and Jane Homeowner, we're a distributor, meaning we sell to floor stores only, they then turn around and sell to the public)

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But it wasn't all bad. I did walk around after my shift and get a few free samples. I came home with 2 rolls of the new ROYALE 3 ply toilet paper and more free razors (the kind with the shaving cream build inside them already) to last a small european country for a year.

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Oh yeah, my weekend was THAT good!

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