Five

Five is the number that we celebrated yesterday.

Yup. That’s right. M and I hit the big 5. It kind of feels like a deep inhale and long and thorough exhale. One of those yogic ones where literally no breath is left in your body. A thorough oxygenation of your physical being. We are now ready for some heavy-duty relationship stuff. Maybe another baby. Maybe another dog?

It will be quite interesting to see what the next 5 years brings.

We always eat at some crazy fancy kind of restaurant for these sort of events. M always picks. He likes to surprise me too, so I never know where we are going. That makes it extra fun for both of us.

Last night?

Reservations at California Grill, on the 15th floor of the Contemporary Resort at DisneyWorld. And storm clouds were a’rollin’ in  as we were heading up and being seated. M had asked for a window seat and so there we were…noses pressed to the glass (me mostly) as we took in the gorgeous view of the Castle in the distance and the lights of Disney spread out all around. And those storm clouds. And then the rain. And the crazy Floridian lightning.

Dinner:

Spicy Kazan Roll . . . Crab, Shrimp, Bay Scallops, Tuna, and Fireball Sauce

Crispy Chicken with Leek and Manchego Fondue, Truffled Whipped Potatoes, Pinot Noir Chicken Glaze

Oak-fired Filet of Beef with Tillamook Cheddar Gratin, Broccolini, and Teriyaki Barbecue

One amazing cheese course, several unbelievably expensive glasses of wine and the most ridiculous dessert finished the night off.

Food coma are the best 2 words to describe what I fell into when we got home. Apparently there was a rip-roarer of a storm last night. However I was firmly under in the land of truffle scented potatoes, rich Merlot, cypress leaf wrapped cheese and medium rare filets. No wonder I didn’t wake up at all.

Mmmhmmmm, I sure do love these fancy dinners.

As we were heading to the elevator on our way back down from food bliss, I noticed a little something on my calf. A bright red band-aid, right next to my pretty shoes. It went quite nicely with my pretty dress, my borrowed handbag and my freshly shaved legs. The life of a fulltime working Mum is such that shaving my legs is relegated to the back corner of ‘things to do’.

And that is probably why I cut myself while I was shaving yesterday. It was like I was 12 years old all over again, t felt like it had been that long. And my legs agreed. It was a long shower.

I think the gorgeous diamond earrings from my husband of five years made up for that ridiculous band-aid though. Right?

As I am still recovering from my food coma, I’ll cut this short…

xoxo a.m.

Two

Did you know that M and I will have been married for 5 years next month? And also that V will be 2 years old in June.

To me, both of these things are rather exciting but, mostly, I am in shock.

Not so much about number 1 (that man is locked in forever)but definitely number 2. Number 2 is going to be 2! Although really he’s number 1. So number one is going to be 2… (my mind is giggling right now, it’s usually in the gutter anyways…).

Anyways, things have been changing over here in the last week or so. A sign of things to come? Of schedules to be disrupted?

It started off Sunday. My fault. Back from Spin class and feeling full of energy, I showered, shaved and felt alive. It was 3 pm and he was still sleeping. As far as I was concerned, that was too late to be sleeping and if he slept longer we would totally be f’d in the A.

So I woke him up. Sweetly, of course, and with many a gentle whisper and caress. Would you like to guess how all of my sweet efforts were greeted? With huge gulping, sobbing, wet, gasping cries. With big head-shakes at the mention of ‘Daddy’. And ever further head-shakes and wailing ‘Noooooo’ ‘s at the mention of Chewie the dog.

And the crying didn’t stop there. It continued for a good 15 minutes. And the day didn’t get any better from there. M just looked at me, gave me a total side-eye.

The rest of the day was just a huge, whiny, temper-tantrumy mess. So was the evening. So was dinner. And so was bath-time.

Bath-time was actually so bad it was kind of funny. Lowered into the lovely tub, all he did was wail from the time his feet touched the water. And then he tried to climb out. And then, when he couldn’t, he proceeded to wail and wail and wail like he was being scalded (which he wasn’t, for the record).

And bedtime that followed wasn’t much better. In fact, bedtime took place at 6:45, 8 pm, 10 pm, 11 pm and 1 am.

And Monday night wasn’t much better.

Tuesday was a slight improvement.

Happily Wednesday night was fine and so was Thursday.

So what the hell was all of that? In 3 months, he’ll be 2. Is it that? He’s getting quite opinionated. He will no longer ‘Moo’ on command. This disappoints me.

On the other had, he is developing a delicious sense of humour that is so infectious I just want to nibble on him. The giggles, the cheeky smiles, the mischievous looks and the endless “tic-el-tic-el-tic-el-tic-el” noises that he makes…

So if this is the terrible twos, I’ll take it.  Those grins make those weary nights worthwhile…

Japan

I had the oddest dream last night.

I dreamt M and I were back in Japan, teaching at the new NEW school our boss had opened up…. and let me explain why this was strange…

When I moved to Japan in 2001, the school that I taught at for 2 months was the smallest building you have ever seen. Approximately 2 one-car garages stacked on top of each other, with an exterior stair-case to reach the second level. The walls of the building were so thin they bent when you pressed them. It might have been a temporary structure, I can’t remember all of the details…

The new structure was about 100 feet away, a gorgeous 2 story building that was officially to open in January of 2002. Think 2 2-car garages stacked upon each other. With running water, flush toilets and proper airconditoning. So what was weird about my dream was that the new NEW school was 3 stories high, huge and was well, a school. And not a garage.

When I came back from winter holiday in Canada, entering that new building was structural bliss from my teaching point of view. Especially compared to what I had experienced the 2 months before. That same day, I met my future husband.

The morning after I flew back in from Christmas holiday in Canada, I banged on my only neighbour’s (on the 2nd floor… the 2nd floor of our apartment that was basically 2 2-car garages stacked on top… wonder where they got the inspiration for the school!) door… M answered looking rather disheveled…. Untucked plaid shirt (that he might still have somewhere), wife-beater, glasses….I invited him out for coffee. I like to be friendly and am hard pressed to take no for an answer. Unless it’s my answer, then I say it all the time.

Anyways, the door was slammed in my face.

And there might have been some mumbling. ‘Wait…’ might have been one of the words I could have made out. I waited. The door opened again, M looked less-disheveled and off we went. We rode our awesome bicycles with baskets to the only Starbucks in town. We met up with some other Gaijins, drank some coffee, smoked our faces off and then rode our awesome bikes back to teach some English.

Who would know that approximately 6 months later we would be attached at the hip….but not ‘dating’. Just ‘good friends’. ‘Good friends’ whose other good friends wondered what on earth was going on between us. Nothing was. Nothing at all.

Not until M’s Dad visited, and that visit seemed to cement things. I was the only person that he introduced him to. And invited to join the 2 of them. And once his Dad headed back to the USA (plus one steamy night on that awful twin-bed…. steamy in an innocent way. Really!) that was it.

So sometimes when I think about the path my life has taken, wonder if I have made the best decisions, did I take the best direction I could have… I look at what I have right now:

Gorgeous son.

Handsome and utterly adoring husband that worships me.

Lovely new home we are about to move into.

Comfortable and happy life full of love, laughter, laughter and the best of memories that we have made together.

So even though I sometimes wish I had chosen a different direction education-wise, I am so glad that I went in the direction that I did. Everything I have done in my past…. especially including the unpleasant things, has led to where I am now.

Thank you fate. And destiny.

Thank you both.

xoxo a.m.

Dirty Baptism (of sorts)

Last weekend I was shopping at Kohl’s (which is my favorite place to shop for…. well….. anything, oh and everything). For my Canadians, Kohl’s is like shopping at The Bay. Or how shopping at The Bay used to be, just with more sales as everything seems to be at least 50% off when I am there.

So there I was, with V, looking for something to wear to dinner with M to celebrate our 4th anniversary.

I can fit a stroller in the change room AND I had a huge bag of cheesy-poofs for him to occupy himself with.

I must have had a million outfits hanging off the stroller. Some of them were even cheesy-poof free (he has grabby hands)…. (and apparently I am Queen of the brackets tonight).

Off we went to the changing room, poofs and outfits in hand. I strategically maneuvered the stroller until it was in front to the mirror, so V could stare at himself. I figured that this would occupy him, while I pulled things on and off my head…

Off came my tank-top and on went a dress. V was transfixed in the mirror, staring away at himself.

Off went the dress and on went another dress….. V’s little hand was slowly reaching towards the mirror, pointer finger extended with such a charming expression on his face. He looked up towards me in the mirror, with such an excited look on his face….

Off went that dress and on went a skirt and top….. V’s little hands were splayed out on the surface of the mirror. Again, he looked up at me in the mirror and smiled at me….

Off went the skirt and top, and on went another dress…. V’s hands were running up and down the mirror, and I forgot that he had been eating baby cheesey poofs. His hands were wet and covered in poofs and he was smearing them all over the mirror.

I looked at the mirror, and looked at him (and then looked at me in the mirror in that dress….. and didn’t try anything else on). He was ecstatic! I was doubled over trying to silently giggle. The ladies in the changing rooms next to me were loudly critiquing each others outfits in a very New York accenty sort of way. I think it masked my laughter.

The mirror was filthy. A full 1 1/2 foot section covered in smear. Smear which was gluten free!!

I didn’t care!

I bought the dress.

And we left the mirror just like that. Silent homage to my new motherhood?  Baptism of changing room? Mixture of both.

Anniversary

In one week, Mike and I will have been married for 4 years. In honour of our anniversary I am actually using his real name, but probably I will continue to call him ‘M’ in upcoming posts.

4 years is a big deal to me.

1 year away from 5 which feels like a huge landmark.

Almost 1 year since Vincent was born and we ate French food for our 3rd anniversay at a restaurant who’s slogan is ‘Bon appetite, y’all!”.

6 1/2 years since we have been together in total.

3 years since I moved to Florida.

Almost 3 years since my 30th birthday, when I ate amazing sushi and then got super drunk at a downtown bar and made an ass out of myself (as I have been known to do).

4 1/2 years since we left Japan. Holy. Moly.

8 years since I graduated from University with a degree that I don’t really use. My dream job was organizing exhibits for museums. Any museum. Well, maybe not a bug museum or something like that…..

11 years since I went dancing for the first time. Yes, thats right. I didn’t dance until I was 22. Just too wholesome, I guess…..

15 years since I graduated from High School. Which means that my 20 year reunion is coming up in the next few years. Interesting.

1 month since I started Bikram yoga. And 1 month since I started feeling more relaxed.

10 months since Vincent was born. And about 6 hours since I seriously started thinking about how much he would like a little sister (a sister, I might add, whose name has been picked out for about 6 months).

12 hours since I realized that I do indeed have Mike’s cold. Damn.

And about 2 minutes since I also realized that I should be in bed….