I Predict

One Day:

1. The Boy will be old enough to change his own diaper. At the rate Potty Training is going, he'll be 16 before he gets into "Big Boy Pants".
   
   
2. He will kick my ass in sports.
   
   
3. Despite that we will play in some sort of Father/Son sporting event. And unless there is a separate locker room for the fathers, he will have to shower beside me. It will likely gross him out.
   
   
4. The Boy will be old enough to bathe himself, because there is no way I'm "sudsing him up" at said Father/Son sporting event. That would gross me out.
   

Food Meme

Violet from Short and Sweet Like Me has tagged me for a meme.

Rules:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. Share 5 facts about yourself.
3. Tag 5 people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them)
4. Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment at their blogs.

The rules don't specifically say this meme has to be about food, but Violet sent it, so I'll stick with her topic. Truth be told, I have much juicier facts about me that are not food related, so in a way a Food Meme is safer.

1. I have a food review blog/site called MealMe.com. Open to anyone who wants to take a picture of their restaurant meal and review. I haven't paid much attention to it as of late - real life gets in the way.
   
   
2. Despite being Chinese, I almost never go out for Chinese food. The only exception is when my parents come to visit.
   
   
3. I haven't eaten Red Meat in over 22 years. What turned me off? Henry Rollins. I had dinner with Henry decades ago when his band Black Flag came to town. He ordered Fish and Chips and I asked him why. His reply, "I don't care how many cows you kill, I just don't want to eat them!"
   
   "That's so fuckin' cool." I thought and changed my diet right there.
   
   
4. I cook mostly from scratch, every meal. I do make an exception for Kraft Dinner. While laced with chemicals and pretty bad for you (not to mention gives me wicked heartburn), I kinda like the taste. I never make it for P or The Boy though, it's my own guilty pleasure.
   
   
5. I am allergic to Penicillin. Is Penicillin considered a food?

I tag:

• Janice from Life with Scott
• Dawn from Maggie and Me
• Mika from Life with Mika
• DK from Tapirspoop
• Obiwanhavanese from Obiwanhavanese

It Washes Off

A victimless prank.

Three Things I've Learned This Week

1) You can't make pasta in the microwave.

2) You can't make pasta by putting some in a bowl, pouring water on top, and covering the bowl with a lid.

3) It sucks not having a stove.

Say Uncle

A recent conversation with a co-worker:

Me: I'm thinking of signing The Boy up for Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

Co-Worker: Dude. You can't be serious. How old is he?

Me: Two and a half

CW: Do you know what Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is?

Me: Isn't it that Brazilian dance mixed with a mock martial-art? The Boy loves dancing.

CW: That's Capoeira.

Me: What's the difference?

CW: Capoeira's is about music and dancing. Jiu-Jitsu is all about choke-holds and submission tactics.

Uh... yeah I think Caporira is the one we want. Although the idea of The Boy choking out another toddler at playgroup makes for a fully excellent visual, it's probably not appropriate playgroup behaviour.

Moving Out of the Suburbs Means... #2

Kids!

It's completely counter-intuitive. Aren't the suburbs are supposed to be overrun with kids?

Maybe it was just my pocket of Champlain Heights. Maybe them "Country Folk" had us pegged as "City Folk". Maybe I'm full of shit. Whatever the reason, in the year and half we lived out there we met a total of one other family.

In just a couple of hours at the the local park yesterday I met four other parents and The Boy played with five other kids. That afternoon P and The Boy went to another nearby park, met another parent and The Boy made another new friend.

He is going to be an only-child, so having other kids in the neighbourhood for him to play with is important.

Proximity to shops, cafes and people who breathe more than two breaths a minute aside, THIS is the main reason we moved back into the city.

And Then There Were 10

We're almost completely moved in! We're down to the final 10 boxes inside our new house (the garage on the other hand... I've lost count). Garage aside, I think we've done pretty good. It's been exhausting, but we're almost completely settled. Still need a few things, most noticably curtains. I probably shouldn't linger by the window each morning stretchin' and scratchin', but I figure that's the best way to get to know our new neighbours. Or at least for the new neighbours to get to know me.

This last move was our fourth in six years, way too much if you ask me, but we are finally home. Off all the places we've lived in the past decade, this house feels right. We like the layout, the neighbourhood, the shops, the parks; we could use a bit more storage space, but that's a small concession in the grand scheme of things.

And The Boy loves the house. After a rocky first night ("I want to go home." We are home. "No, this is NOT my home. I WANT to go home.") he's settled nicely. He's got a decent sized yard to run around in, and the open layout means he can keep an eye on us from just about anywhere. It means we can see him too, win-win.

Hey Lady!

This morning I dropped The Boy off at his babysitter/daycare. Another little boy, who I'll call "C" arrived at the same time with his mother, who I'll call, uh... "Antithesis Mom". Yeah, I think Antithesis Mom is an appropriate name without resorting to low brow name calling like Ma Pushy, or Mamma Bitchy, or Fat Ass Land Whale.

Aren't parents supposed set good examples for their children? With Antithesis Mom as role model, C is doomed to become an inconsiderate ass. Right off the bat AM was unfriendly. She glared at us as we got out of our car. When The Boy ran up, excited to see C, she glared again. I introduced myself and got short one word replies. "She's having a bad morning." I thought and let it go.

Then we got to the door.

The two boys ran inside and then AM proceeded to block the door. Okay sure, you need to talk to the daycare provider, but geeze, how about stepping inside or at least out of the way so I can say goodbye to my son? I am literally looking over her shoulder trying to talk to The Boy over her.

Yeah, yeah, I could have said excuse me, but do I have to? We both arrive at the door at the same time, we're both dropping off our kids, my son is calling me and I'm hanging off your shoulder. What part of that isn't obvious? Eventually I just turn around and leave.

To top if off, she's left her car idling, making sure she does her part for Global Warming. Fitting, considering her self-centered personality. When the water level eventually starts rising AM, I really hope you have waterfront property.

Oh, and how did our move go? I'll tell you in a minute.