Sweet

Reading over my last few posts, I feel like I have fallen into a rut of sharing only the ‘poo, crying and general unpleasantness’ stories that is my life. I hope you don’t think that is the only things that happen over here. Nice things happen too. And sweet things.

V’s vocab is expanding by leaps and bounds right now. Current phrases:

“Awesome dude!”

“No Monkey”

No car shoes” (Pushing aside his ‘Lightening McQueen’ shoes and dragging  out his Spiderman shoes instead)

Random pig and cow noises and, sometimes if we are really lucky, the sweetest kitty and baby bird noises too.

“Bubbles?!?!” (to his bubble bucket on the bac k porch)

“Mummy, park? No park.” (as it started raining on the way home yesterday)

‘Mumma, push?” (to me in the garage. He likes to watch the door go up and down)

M just taught him how to tickle and so there is extra cute laughter in our house lately. V’s tickle technique is so funny.

He approaches you with one finger extended and pokes you once, and then leaves that finger there. “Tickle.” he says solemnly. And you are expected to giggle like a crazy person. Lord help you if you do not.

He has recently become totally obsessed with Chewie the Chihuahua. Poor Chewie… it’s almost too much attention for him (and since all he wants is constant attention, that is saying a lot). V wants Chewie to say ‘good night’ to him every night. He wants to see Chewie every morning when he wakes up. He wants to play tug-of-war with him all day long and wants to pat him all day too. This tends to make bedtime rather difficult.

It also makes bedtime rather cute. So do V’s requests for me to stay in the chair next to his bed. “Mumma, chair? Mumma. CHAIR.”

So even though there are the most ridiculous poop-filled events going on over here. Even though I feel like we are on the verge of maxing out our medical benefits for the year on the little man. Even though there are a large amount of molars on the horizon. And even though it sometimes feels like I am drowning in vomit, poo, tears and emotional exhaustion…there are too many overriding sweet things happening at the same time that sometimes might get ignored or pushed to the wayside a little.

I promise to make a better effort to balance out these posts so you are all not making frowny faces while you read. I really want you to make some happy faces! Or at least some kind of happy faces.

Off to watch Cap’t Kirk rescue some whales in the 80’s…

xoxo a.m.

Glorious

The crazy Summer of 2002 and its Brazilian beach parties gradually ushered in one heck of a cold fall. Hamamatsu gets pretty windy.

Housing insulation…well…lets just say that it is not a priority. Thin walls, lack of central heat equals a very cold apartment.

With the cold fall, M’s Dad arrived and his visit was a highly anticipated one, both by M and by the school that we worked for. There were no end of eager students practically lining up to entertain him when he arrived. B, on the other hand, had his own ideas about what he would be doing… One day, I believe M woke up to find a note informing him that he (Dad) was heading to the train station (possibly on foot) to take the train up to Tokyo. And that he would call him later…

I peppered M with questions “Where’s he going? What’s he doing?” etc etc…. M replied “…not sure…” and that was the end of that conversation. A few days later he was back, it was the weekend and we all took a drive to see Momiji (or Japanese Maple trees in their gorgeous autumn splendor).

In case you haven’t ever witnessed their absolute glory, here is a picture from that afternoon hike that illustrates it…

Momiji 2002

It was pretty amazing. Can you see me on the side there? So we hiked all around this little mountain, up spider infested slopes and down them… under those fiery leaves and through their lightly less colourful brethren that were scattered on the ground…. We wound around and around the mini-mountainside until we came to the most interesting of bridges. Some type of suspension bridge, one of those that sways when you walk on them. I think they are awesome. M….. not so much. And B well, not at all. In fact he posed all cool and debonair and firmly on the ground, while I confidently strode out there and M followed behind… just slightly less excited than I was…

Jaime on the bridge, 2002

M on the bridge 2002... slightly less excited...

B not on the bridge and pretty happy about that....

It was a pretty full afternoon. Momiji. Glorious. Spider infested temple. Not so much. But that was evened out by amazing bridge experience (for me anyways).

That evening M joined me in my apartment (next to his) for an epic evening of boot-leg Simpsons episodes. We stayed up far too late. There might have been longing glances cast (in a behind the back sort of way…..we weren’t dating yet).

Glorious.

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.

Dinner

As requested, this post is about M.

As in, “Honey, what should I write about??”

“I think you should write about how awesome your husband is.”

OK. I certainly will try.

He is pretty awesome.

He has made me dinner every night that he has been home during his summer holiday (he is a middle school teacher). And, it is always beautifully plated. And he always presents it to me from such a great height. So I have to wait until it is lowered to my eye-level to see what it is. Did I also mention that he never tells me what he is cooking?

I also am never allowed into the kitchen. Ever. While he is cooking. All cooking (by him) that goes on in our house is a surprise. And it really is! I tend to cook the same way. It’s a whole 2 veg 1 protein type of meal with me. I make home-cooking. Shepherds pie, mashed potatoes, steamed veg, casserole…. things of that nature. It is all I can cook.

I cannot do reductions.

I sometimes burn steaks just right.

I can make magical Vincent-meals.

I make a wicked Seafood salad (that doe not include mayo). Oh, and can I ever bake….

I can’t, however, make Quinoa, risotto, a proper blackened steak of any kind. Or spell that word right. Ever. I never know what wine goes with what.

I just drink red. I figure its got to fit in there somehow….

The ceremony that goes one with M’s meals is something to be seen, heard, tasted and enjoyed.

Tonight it was Pepper Pork Tenderloin, on a bed of greens with fresh peaches with a home-made Italian reduction drizzled…everywhere…

So here’s to M’s delicious cooking, my complete spoiledness, V’s future spoiledness (once we have properly developed his taste-buds, that is), our new house and future appliances that M will cook delicious things on.

Handsome husband, oh how I adore thee…. especially…well… all the time. Can’t lie there. You are pretty awesome. And put up with my OCD cleaning. And my OCD list-writing. Oh, and my OCD cleaning.

love you. xo

Picky

You know when you finally decide to take that big step in a direction that means ‘responsibility’? It’s kind of like teetering on the edge of a cliff forever…… finally someone comes up behind you and gives you a big ol’ push over the edge. There you are….. totally free-falling, no idea what to do, with a how-to manual clutched in your hand.

“Cliff-diving for Dummies”.

Really, it’s “House-Buying for Dummies”.

I think the tenants that moved in above us finally pushed me over the edge. M, apparently, hasn’t noticed them at all. All I hear is ‘thump thump thump’. And then there are our new neighbours across the courtyard, who bbq right in front of our living-room window. Awesome. I might as well just invite myself.

I guess M and I kind of keep to ourselves. We are just private kind of people that are not on first name basis with all of our apartment neighbours. We also do not party with them. Or drink with them randomly, or really hang out with any of them at all. You wouldn’t want to either.

Now ‘house’ neighbours are a different kind of story. If you are buying, you will be friendly with your neighbours. The end.

So as we blunder, slowly, through this whole initial process it’s like my brain just wants to shut down.

I look at homes online. I email our realtor things I think we’d like. She emails me back. I talk to M about when we want to look at them….. and thats when things seem to slow down for us.

We want to. But…..we also want to do everything else but physically look at them. We also are ultra picky. And have also put a time-limit on this whole thing. We are determined to take advantage of that tax credit. And also don’t want to renew our lease, which is up in October. And also we seem to be quite picky.

We don’t mind a little bit rundown. But not too rundown. We don’t mind a foreclosure, but would prefer one that comes with a pool, a pool that is sparkling clean. A 3/2 is at the bottom of the list, but a 4/2 would be better. And all of this needs to fall into a rather srict budget, and ever stricter neighbourhood that we have outlined.

And this is all tentative. Sometimes I think to myself “What the hell are we doing?!?!”

And then I think “Oh,right. We hate renting and want a house. And are firmly in our 30’s. And have a baby. And this is the next logical step.”

And so, yet again, we are picky. And possibly (a) pain(s) in the ass (es).

*sigh* This is exhausting to even type about….

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….

Mad skills

Yesterday morning I went to check the mail while walking Chewie and carrying V. M was not awake yet (sleeping off the 18 hour day he had finished a few hours before).

For some reason I really get my kicks out of checking the mailbox. I love getting letters, really of any sort. At our last apartment for some reason we only had one mail key (why we never got another one, I will never know), but I would literally fight M for it, wrestle it out of his fingers and dash down the 2 flights of stairs (we lived on the 3rd floor) in my joyous anticipation of checking out mailbox. Now this was early in my days of living in Florida, and so I usually would have a delightful card/little package/something lovely in that box from Canada waiting for me. How terribly exciting it was to check the mail!

So my hands full with V and Chewie’s leash, I unlock our mailbox and reach in… It’s stuffed full! Mostly circulars, a few bills, the latest US magazine and a tubular package about 12 inches long…. Just seeing it peeking out of my mailbox got me all excited (tubular things do that to me), so I took it out (it took me about 3 minutes to write those 5 words… I erased ‘pulled it out’ and then giggled for the remaining 2:50 seconds) and saw that it was addressed to me. Well, it was sort of addressed to me.

Actually it was addressed to ‘Jaime McPhooferpantsbum Melvin’. For real. Oh, that husband of mine.

He thinks he’s so funny. I should have known that this was coming when I received that tutorial DVD on ‘How to Iron’ addressed to Jaime McPooter Melvin. I know how to iron, thank you very much.

So, home I went with V, leash, circulars, bills and the tube. I unlocked the front door, deposited V in to his Jumparoo and went and got some scissors to open this silly package.

A set of four plastic George Killian’s Irish Red beer tasting glasses and an official ‘Premium Lager’ key chain that conveniently doubles as a bottle opener. Plus instructions on how to taste beer properly (to get your own beer tasting kit, click link above and check it out).

Hil-are-E-ous.

Well, now I know how to iron properly and can taste beer like a real man can (or whatever…. or whoever for that matter)

And M still thinks he is the funniest person ever…. and warned me that there might be more things to follow in the mail soon….. geez….. I hope he is a little more creative with the names!