Skip to main content

The Movie in My Mind

Like brief vignettes in an art-house flick, scenes parallel to the shifting seasons outside my window play in my mind.

A baby boy is born, his cries full of vigor and determination as he greets the bright, artificial lights of the operating room.

In an office not too far away, an older gentleman's heart is heavy as his oncologist gives him the bad news that his cancer has returned.

The sun is shining and the leaves are a vibrant red and yellow and orange; the air is punctuated with the squeals of children on the playground and crunching through the leaves.

It is black night, and the streetlights cast silent shadows on the freshly-fallen blanket of snow covering every exposed surface outside.

A young family of three, alight with excitement and anticipation, prepares to buy the perfect Christmas tree to adorn their urban home this merry holiday season.

Another older gentleman, wearing grief like a winter parka, lights up the Christmas star on his suburban lawn several weeks too early to pay tribute to his elderly mother who has just passed.

And so the contrasts continue to play out in short snippets, alternating between the bright vibrant colours of a happy season with the bleak hues of gray, white and black.  Quick, joyful Christmas melodies seem that much more jarring as they are interrupted by slow, minor-keyed dirges.

As the story continues, the viewer learns just how these scenes are tied together. The newborn son is the namesake, bearing the name of his terminally-ill grandfather.  The young mother is the firstborn of this man, and the auntie of the newborn babe.  The young father is the firstborn of the other man, and the grandson of the woman who has passed away. All of these vignettes share in common this young family, who happens to live a province away, unable to directly involve themselves in the celebrations and the tragedies happening an hour's flight away.

This is why I have been absent from the blog for a little while. My life is this movie right now, and I'm still trying to figure out if I like artsy films.


Popular posts from this blog

Gone with the FLLO - Traveling with the Clek FLLO

In previous posts, I've already detailed the awesomeness of Clek's FLLO seat, so no need for redundancy here. The true test of its greatness lies in how well it travels, since it is meant to be a "compact" and more portable version of the gargantuan FOONF.

Now, to be clear, we purchased a Clek WEELEE bag to transport our car seat on our flight to and from Maui, *and* we checked our car seat with our airline, which I know is a big CPS Tech no-no. They argue that any car seat that has been checked is as good as crashed, because the potential rough handling of the seat by the carrier compromises its integrity and could damage it internally. My experience (now that I've done it) is this:

a) The Weelee bag is very well padded and sturdy. Once I had the seat properly placed inside the bag, I felt that it was as good as any seat in a styrofoam-packaged box. The bonus, of course, is that unlike a box, the Weelee has a telescopic handle and deeply-grooved, rugged wheels, …

Outgrow. Outlast. - The Finale of Our BF Journey

To be completely honest, I almost didn't write this post. While I'm usually fairly open about my opinions and parenting choices, I've held this one pretty close to the vest in recent years, because it is a more controversial - and personal- decision than most others. Sadly, it is one that many Western mothers are also unfairly judged for, despite it being completely natural in many other parts of our world.

The choice: full-term, aka "extended," breastfeeding. Little L and I chose to continue our nursing journey beyond age 2, and 3, and even 4. In fact, we only weaned a couple of weeks ago. We had already stopped nursing in public and nursing on demand several years earlier, but it was only recently that Little L was ready to completely wean from her nighttime and early morning sessions; she had finally outgrown her need to drink from my milk. The most clear signs of this were her growing desire for "privacy" and alone time, and her "nye-nye"

An Eyeliner Switcheroo

For the past several years, I've been a very loyal Stila Stay All Day Waterproof Eye Liner fan. I mean, I use the stuff every single day, and I like to do dramatic wings on my eyes, so I need a quality eyeliner that is high pigment, won't smear, and has an amazing fine-tipped brush that will let me draw my eyeliner wings to a very long, dramatic tip. My standards are exacting when it comes to liquid liner. 

That said, my wallet hates me for it. Those amazing liners cost $30 a pop, and they only last a couple of months at the rate that I use them. 
So, as any responsible adult tries to do, I've attempted to save money and find a cheaper alternative. I've used all sorts of liners sent by IPSY, or bought at my local drugstore. Unfortunately, every attempt I've made has resulted in great regret. The brush applicator was too wide or too short. The eyeliner smudged too easily. The pigment wasn't dark enough. You get the idea.
However, I think I've finally found m…