Maks has a brand new race car bed!  It’s blue and quite possibly the coolest bed that he has ever seen in his whole life.  He loves it.  But he hasn’t quite grasped that concept that he is supposed to sleep in it.  If you listen closely in the middle of the night you can hear him saying ‘vroom’ as he attempts to drive his bed to freedom and donuts.

 Tomorrow is Canada Day.  We have the day off.  So our stat holiday is in the middle of the week, not a snazzy long weekend like our neighbours down south.  I find it odd but hey I am not one to say no to a day off anytime of the week.  So Happy Birthday Canada !!  Thanks for poutines, beaver tails, Timmy’s, our fundamental freedoms and Bret Hart.

 I ♥ Bret Hart.  Always have, always will.

 Maks daycare had their annual family day fiesta last Friday.  It was fun; there were tacos and a bouncy castle.  Anything that involves tacos and a bouncy castle has to be fun.  Maks didn’t want to get out of the bouncy castle.  He had to be lured out with the promise of dinosaurs and popsicles.    

 Ice Age:  Something to do with dinosaurs – comes out tomorrow.  I think I am more excited than Stinky & Maks combined to see it.  We are actually going to take Maks into the theatre to see it.  That should be interesting.  I hope he will be able to sit through it.  I don’t want him to be that kid.

 Now head over to Keely’s at the Un Mom, she’s got the good stuff.

Way back when before I was double digits I was a Tiffany fan.  I thought she was the coolest thing ever.  Beanz was always the Michael Jackson fan.  But because she was pushy and whiny, and always stole my tape player, I spent a lot of time listening to Michael Jackson.  But after about a week straight of Thriller, Bad and Smooth Criminal I gave up on Tiffany.  Michael Jackson was what I wanted to listen to.  I tried to moonwalk and failed miserably.  I was scared of the Thriller video but I tried really hard to learn the zombie dance and once again failed miserably.  

At our wedding Millhouse and I played a lot of Michael and one of the favourite memories we have of that day is Gavin (one of the groomsmen) clearing the floor so he could dance to one song only – Billie Jean.

In September I was supposed to go to England with a friend of mine to see Michael in concert.  I was beyond excited.  It was my first time ever seeing Michael Jackson in person and I recognized this trip as a chance of a lifetime.  I would never get the opportunity to see him in person again and I was scrimping and saving so that I would have enough to go.

Our love of Michael has even trickled down to Stinky and Maks.  Stinky tells everyone that Michael Jackson is her most favourite singer.  And she is serious.  I couldn’t tell her about my trip because she would be extremely upset that she couldn’t come along to see him.  Maks dances to Bad and Thriller, it’s not quite the moonwalk but it is still cute.

Now Micheal’s gone.  I know that I didn’t know him but I feel as though I did.  I am grieving for the performer that brought me so much joy.  I always said that someone killed the music.  The songs that I here today don’t have the same quality that they once did.  But yesterday was the day that the music died.  I didn’t realize that until this morning.  I woke up and heard Billie Jean on the radio and started bawling.  The King of Pop is gone.

R.I.P. Michael.

Thank you for all that you did.

Billie Jean

She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene
I said don’t mind, but what do you mean I am the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round
She said I am the one, who will dance on the floor in the round

Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover

Yesterday I had a parent / teacher interview with Maks teacher.  I was expecting to be reprimanded for the swearing.  But that didn’t happen.  Instead I was told that Maks is behind in almost every area except for social interaction.  And I am very concerned.  In his last class he was above average in all areas except social interaction now it is all switched around.  Maybe it is his new classroom but things have certainly changed.  I know that he hasn’t mastered colours yet.  He is convinced that yellow is really blue and blue is really yellow.  I thought that it was something cute but I guess I am being too lackadaisical.  According to his teacher even though he can count to 13, and is pretty much potty trained he is still really far behind the other kids.  He has to improve his counting, his colour recognition, numbers and letter recognition and his knowledge of shapes.  He also has to start reading more books.

 Once again, I feel like the world’s crappiest mom.  

 Maks has an entire book case full of books, not to mention the books that we have in the bathroom for him to ‘read’ while he is using the potty.  Millhouse and I read to / with him everyday for at least a half an hour a day but with the exception of Chicka Chicka Boom Boom not of the books are really specific to letters, numbers, counting, colours or shapes.  He has books about animals, cars, sounds, sports, and touch and learn and I thought that I was doing good with those.  But I guess I’m not.  I am going to see if I can get him some flash cards and some educational books to help him improve in the areas that his teacher says he needs improvement.

 I love learning and I want Maks to love learning.  And I feel like crap because I have obviously been doing a really crappy job in teaching him.  I don’t want to pressure him and I know that all kids learn at their own pace but after that interview I felt like I am hurting him, like there is so much more I could be doing that I’m not. 

It’s Tuesday!  You know what that means The Un Mom has let the randomness run free!  So let’s get random.

 It’s summer.  FINALLY!!  We have heat, humidity, construction and a garbage strike.  That’s how you know its summer.  If you’re immune to the heat, your nose will pick up on the slight scent of decaying garbage and let you know that it is time to ditch the winter coat.

 My parents are back tomorrow.  FINALLY!  We sent them away for their 33^rd wedding anniversary to Cuba .  It has nothing to do with us being model children it was because it was cheaper than throwing them a party.  But I miss them.  Without my mom here I am totally out of the loop on the family gossip and without my dad here there is no one to comment on the state of my car.  I’ll probably want to send them back to Cuba twenty minutes after they land though.

 Jon & Kate came out and said what everyone knew they would say.  FINALLY!  I almost cried when they did though.  Ii was obvious that they were going to announce that their marriage was over but I was really hoping that their big announcement would be that they were canceling the show and going to get counseling to save their marriage.  My heart goes out to those kids.  The demise of their family was video taped and aired for the world to see.

 I have accepted that eating 1200 calories in one day is impossible.  FINALLY!  I can do it in one meal at Chili’s but stretching that small amount of calories into three meals and 2 snacks just isn’t working.  I have upped my calorie intake to 1500.  Hopefully that makes the snarling beast go away.

 And this post is done.  FINALLY!

So the battle of the bulge continues and I am losing miserably. My goal was to have lost 30lbs by August. It is now almost July and I have lost about 15lbs. That to me really sucks. I watch those weight loss shows on TV and I am always so critical of the people that lose small numbers in 6 months. They have to be doing something wrong. Well, I guess not. I eat alright; I exercise 4 to 5 times a week and no really significant results. I am going to keep going but I don’t think that I am going to drop the weight I want to by the time I set.

Here are my measurements.

Bust: 37 inches (no change)
Waist: 35 inches (down 2)
Hips: 40 inches (down 1)

So since my last update I have lost 3 inches.

That’s not very much at all.

If you follow me on Twitter, you know about my weight loss issues and that I have enlisted in Socacize Boot Camp.  Now for those of you that don’t know Socacize is it is this high intensity workout that helps you lose weight and tone all to Soca, Chutney, and Reggae.  It works because it is more like dancing and less like exercising.  I love it because I hate working out but I really need to work out.  I go to the actual Socacize fitness class every Wednesday for an hour with Beanz and now we are doing the Boot Camp every Saturday morning for two hours.

 The Boot Camp is more than just Socacize.  It is 40 minutes of Socacize, 40 minutes of Ginga* and 40 minutes of Zumba**.  It is insane!!  When we left we were soaked with sweat, and sore in places we didn’t know we could be sore.  It was hard.  It was intense.  And yes I am going back for more.

 Wish me luck, I want to look better in my Caribana costume than I did last year and if this is what it takes for me to look good then I am doing it.

 *Ginga is a technique used in Capoeira.  Capoeira is a form of Brazilian martial arts that helps you tone.  He worked on toning our abs without us lying on the floor.  At the time the moves don’t seem to be working but afterwards you feel it. 

 **Zumba is this crazy fast dancing that helps you tone.  They take these really simple moves, throw in some music and off you go.  It doesn’t seem like you are really exercising but then my thighs and arms starting burning.  It was craziness.

Happy Fathers Day to all the great dads out there, keep on doing what you do.  It’s hard but it is worth it.  To Millhouse you may feed the kids chocolate pudding for breakfast and laugh out loud at cartoons but you are a really great dad and Maks is going to be a fantastic person because of you.  
This is an excerpt of an essay that President Obama wrote for Parade Magazine. He may not be the best president ever. But I certainly do like him.

———————————————————————————————

As the father of two young girls who have shown such poise, humor, and patience in the unconventional life into which they have been thrust, I mark this Father’s Day—our first in the White House—with a deep sense of gratitude. I observe this Father’s Day not just as a father grateful to be present in my daughters’ lives but also as a son who grew up without a father in my own life. My father left my family when I was 2 years old, and I knew him mainly from the letters he wrote and the stories my family told. And while I was lucky to have two wonderful grandparents who poured everything they had into helping my mother raise my sister and me, I still felt the weight of his absence throughout my childhood.

In many ways, I came to understand the importance of fatherhood through its absence—both in my life and in the lives of others. I came to understand that the hole a man leaves when he abandons his responsibility to his children is one that no government can fill. We can do everything possible to provide good jobs and good schools and safe streets for our kids, but it will never be enough to fully make up the difference. We need fathers to step up, to realize that their job does not end at conception; that what makes you a man is not the ability to have a child but the courage to raise one. We need to step out of our own heads and tune in. We need to turn off the television and start talking with our kids, and listening to them, and understanding what’s going on in their lives. I know I have been an imperfect father. I know I have made mistakes. I have lost count of all the times, over the years, when the demands of work have taken me from the duties of fatherhood. There were many days out on the campaign trail when I felt like my family was a million miles away, and I knew I was missing moments of my daughters’ lives that I’d never get back. It is a loss I will never fully accept. On this Father’s Day, I think back to the day I drove Michelle and a newborn Malia home from the hospital nearly 11 years ago—crawling along, miles under the speed limit, feeling the weight of my daughter’s future resting in my hands. I think about the pledge I made to her that day: that I would give her what I never had—that if I could be anything in life, I would be a good father.

This is an excerpt of an essay that President Obama wrote for Parade Magazine. He may not be the best president ever. But I certainly do like him.
———————————————————————————————

As the father of two young girls who have shown such poise, humor, and patience in the unconventional life into which they have been thrust, I mark this Father’s Day—our first in the White House—with a deep sense of gratitude. I observe this Father’s Day not just as a father grateful to be present in my daughters’ lives but also as a son who grew up without a father in my own life. My father left my family when I was 2 years old, and I knew him mainly from the letters he wrote and the stories my family told. And while I was lucky to have two wonderful grandparents who poured everything they had into helping my mother raise my sister and me, I still felt the weight of his absence throughout my childhood.

In many ways, I came to understand the importance of fatherhood through its absence—both in my life and in the lives of others. I came to understand that the hole a man leaves when he abandons his responsibility to his children is one that no government can fill. We can do everything possible to provide good jobs and good schools and safe streets for our kids, but it will never be enough to fully make up the difference. We need fathers to step up, to realize that their job does not end at conception; that what makes you a man is not the ability to have a child but the courage to raise one. We need to step out of our own heads and tune in. We need to turn off the television and start talking with our kids, and listening to them, and understanding what’s going on in their lives. I know I have been an imperfect father. I know I have made mistakes. I have lost count of all the times, over the years, when the demands of work have taken me from the duties of fatherhood. There were many days out on the campaign trail when I felt like my family was a million miles away, and I knew I was missing moments of my daughters’ lives that I’d never get back. It is a loss I will never fully accept. On this Father’s Day, I think back to the day I drove Michelle and a newborn Malia home from the hospital nearly 11 years ago—crawling along, miles under the speed limit, feeling the weight of my daughter’s future resting in my hands. I think about the pledge I made to her that day: that I would give her what I never had—that if I could be anything in life, I would be a good father.

Millhouse loves the cold.  He complains whenever the temperate goes about 20C.  He’s been known to shovel snow in just a sweater.  He’s odd I know.

I hate the cold.  I can’t stand it at all.  I was raised on an island in the Caribbean , heat is in my blood.  If the temperature falls below 25C I put on a sweater.  I need heat and I need it all the time.  Being anemic doesn’t help my need for heat.  But I will never, ever complain that it is too hot.  To me there is no such thing.

But with summer moving in with the speed of frozen molasses our wedded bliss is faced with a dilemma – air conditioning.  I hate it.  I refuse to turn on the air conditioning.  I am very happy just lounging around in the sun being all toasty warm, Millhouse, not so much.  If he had his way, there would be penguins living in our basement.  So we have to reach a compromise. 

Last year I would turn off the AC as soon as Millhouse turned it on.  It was an awful cycle with him sweating and me in fleece pajamas.  But then he used the trump card – Maks.  He said that Maks needed to be cool and therefore the air conditioning was necessary and I fell for it.  I walked around (indoors) most of last summer in a sweater and Millhouse was so proud of himself.  This year I am not going to yield.  He can put ice cubes down is pants if he gets too hot because that AC is staying off until there is a humidex or smug warning!*  

*See what I mean about compromise.  What I just said is going to get Millhouse really mad and I can see us having the same fight this year as we did last year.

*sigh*

Why can’t he just see things my way.  Anyway some guy came into my Soca-cize class today blah, blah, blahing about the best diet pills ever so I am off to research.

My grapefruit is from South Africa .  The sticker on it told me so.  It traveled a long way for me to eat it, I kinda feel bad for it.  Coming all this way just for me to chop it up, cover it in brown sugar and eat it.  Mind you I don’t feel bad for Belgium chocolates. 

We need a cutting board in the communal kitchen at work.  I would bring one in but I am not good at sharing.

My foot hurts.  I blame my shoe.  It’s new and not broken in yet so it is at ‘the hurts when you sit’ stage.  

I called a senior analyst ‘dude’ today and she laughed for 15 minutes straight.  I wasn’t trying to be funny but she thought it was the funniest thing ever.

I changed my shoe.

I have to find a way to tan my stomach but not tan the rest of me.  Lying in the backyard in a bikini with a towel over my head and extremities may alarm the neighbours.

I’m all done now.  Head over to Keely’s at The Un Mom, I think she has vodka.