Fashionista goes camping -- a photolog

The way there: Torrential downpour in Toronto made me freak out a bit and mass broadcast my apprehension about the trip on multiple social media outlets.

But the rain at the campsite ended up not being so bad (last year we survived a night of monsoon conditions while IN the tent!) and the ride was a sweet gas guzzler. (Hey, even us eco-loving lefties can appreciate the occasional need for a massive motor -- not to mention the cargo space.) We had to rent a monster truck because there is no other way to fit a 12-going-on-13-year-old in the backseat between two car seats.


Hi, I'm almost two and I beg to sit in the driver's seat any chance I get. New rides are sweeeeet!


Hi, I am disgruntled because my sister gets all the front seat action AAAAAND my mom says we have to give this truck back and I don't want to because I can climb into it all by myself.


ZZZzzzzzz. One of these two nappers is not wearing a diaper. One of these two nappers had a very big Dora thingy of orange juice and no one thought to tell him to go pee before hitting the road. You do the math.

'Pakka has to come with us everywhere. Sometimes he drives. Mostly he drives me crazy, but the kids love him. Surprisingly, they don't fight over him... very often.

The things that almost did us in -- in the first 12 hours:


Oh yeah Chippy, you think you're so fucking cool with your stripe down the back and your Rescue Rangers attitude. You think we stupid humans didn't notice the hole you suddenly created right into our dining tent. You think we.. we... agh.

My husband's brain goes like this (in Yodda voice of course): Camping equals fire. Fire equals life. Therefore camping equals life. (Then in quasi Captain Caaaaaaaveman voice...) Must make FIRE! Fire makes man! Oonga boonga!

Me: Wood equals wet. Fire equals no go. Why spend three hours making smoke when there are air mattresses to fill? Whaddya mean you only packed the batteries and didn't put them in the pump?! If you'd tried to put the batts in the pump, you would have noticed that I stupidly bought a plug in!

My niece and I spent an hour with a borrowed foot pump before I freaked out and requested the rest of the campsite be polled for possible battery operated air pumps. It was 10 PM and the kids had no where to sleep yet!


Hi, I like to party. I also like to try and do everything myself. I have yet to master this zipper thing after four months of daily attempts, but I feel like I'm so close. Kinda like my dad and that fire. Sometimes I fall down. Sometimes these falls cause injury to my mama, like clawing her eyeball as I fall. Hey. Does anyone have some cheddar in this joint?

Injury sustained around 10:15 PM meant all night tears running down my face (therefore all night nose-running, therefore no sleep). The burn! Ack. Had to drive into town to get some Polysporin drops. Felt like a battered woman who lies to the pharmacist -- "My daughter fell and..."


Hi, I went to fill up the air mattress with my dad but it was dark soooooo I fell. I tripped on a log. Then I cried so hard the whole campground wished we weren't there. Then I didn't tell anyone I had a sprained ankle and two wrists full of splinters until the next morning. Then my mom freaked on my dad for not noticing earlier. Then my dad suggested he take everyone to a motel and stay at the campground on his own. Mom vetoed that. She busted out the super sugary cereals to get us all to shut up. Notice the snot on her sleeve...

Hi, do you know I get up at ten to six when I'm excited? I call, "Mam, mam! Wake! WAKE!!" until my mommy opens her eyes (or in this case, eye). Then my mama tells my dada it's his turn to take me and she goes back to sleep. This makes me cry until the entire campground wishes we weren't there. Oh, and I lurv pacifiers, especially when no one remembers to make me breakfast.

The Things That Make Me Want to Go Again:


Everyone bonded with Lucy. She had hugs to dish out for all and I swear this stage is the sweetest. I know Terrible Twos are coming, but so far the answer to the tantrums is hugs (like her mama) and it's the best thing ever. Also -- yes, I am wearing Crocs. Not even cute ballet flat or Mary Jane ones. Plain ol' ugly Crocs. Not even real ones. Mocs. Also, I look like Buck from US of Tara in that hat.


Hi again. I'm not sure about these swim shoes, or how deep I want to get in this water, but I'm working it out.

Also, talkie talkies are awesome. No wonder Bob and Wendy use them all the time. Niece takes kids to the beach, we call lunch without having to move. Wicked awesome.

We were way better set up this time. Had some good tarp action going. Plus the "dining shelter"... I could get used to this. Just need less gear that's about J going into Algonquin with the boys (single burner butane thingy) and more family camping gear (Coleman camping stove).

Being outdoors ALL. THE. TIME. is good for the soul. Also, I don't get BlackBerry reception in the park. Which is a good thing. Next time I'm going to bring Eckhart Tolle with me and really blow my mind.

Our second annual "moment" on "the rock." Sparklers and marshmallows and giant disks of Caillbaut dark chocolate (OMG I LOVE the Bulk Barn so much I want to marry it!). My daughter saw the moon, one of her favourite things, and said, "Moon!" Her name means moon. I cried. I rarely feel so alive as I did in that moment.

Hi, me again. I think this outfit is pretty badass. I mean, there's a farking unicorn on my shirt dudes. The shorts are borrowed from my brother's hand-me-downs (because I only weigh like 5lbs less than him). All two-year-olds should wear all black with pink rain boots. Seriously, go make your moms buy you an outfit like this. And then force her to play Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" 30 times in a row.

Team Silverthorne rocks the campsite yo. Also, if the kid who won't swim wants to wear his Aqua Swim floaty trainer thing over his clothes, let him, because that shit's glow in the dark. He totally lit the dusky path to the bathroom.

Absolute bliss.
(Aw yeah, Pucci headscarf!)

Is it a vacation if you have to survive it?

Hi! I'm home! I have bathed! Phew!

I am brewing a photolog like I did last year, but in the meantime you can sneak a peek at a photo from the trip, plus the camping list I promised here.

Check back tomorrow here tomorrow for the full story.

The Camping Gods Hate Me

I'm trying to embrace Mother Nature. I'm really trying to get into this whole camping thing by using it as a means to shop (if they call it a "dining shelter"I can pretend it's like outdoor furniture shopping).

But really, other than the being with my family for four days straight with no BlackBerry reception (OK that part has me panicked, but it's necessary), I could really think of better ways to spend my summer vacation. Like on a bed. That's not inflated by air.

Last year at this time, I was at BlogHer in San Francisco (oh how I am missing my Amazon Arnie opposite twin right now). Our inaugural camping trip didn't happen until August. This year I thought, "Hey! Let's book the camping in July, just late enough to avoid the bugs, but early enough to avoid the chilly nights." I should have known that the camping gods just detest my kind and were going to fuck me over regardless.

The kids were at my moms all week, so I managed to get a decent leg up on work, as well as adequately prepare for the trip. Lists were made (I'll be posting my highly anal list on my Sweetmama blog Thursday the 30th). I consulted with Andrea Fishbowl (all bloggers have blogs for last names) who had recently returned from a backwoods Algonquin yurt trip (ah the joys of older kids) and who is generally good at all things creative-thinking and organizational (she and Marla are my go-tos for these kinds of considerations). She did not disappoint with her AWESOME list and menu, from which I cribbed and tweaked to my family's needs.

Our 12.5-year-old niece is coming with us to lend a hand with the kiddos, so we needed a bigger vehicle (she can fit between the two car seats, but a 2.5 hr. drive would be extremely uncomfortable). So we went onto Expedia and got a deal on an SUV -- minivans were cost-prohibitive.

J went to the Enterprise car rental place today at 2, only to learn it had closed at noon -- FOR THE WEEKEND! I knew at that moment that the camping gods were indeed fucking with me, but I kept my head cool. Thankfully, our reservation had not gone through properly and we weren't charged for a vehicle we didn't have. A quick call to Avis went like this:

Me: "Yadda yadda yadda, we were hoping for an SUV."
Avis lady: "I'm showing a rate o $560 for three days. That includes 800 kilometres."
Me: "Whoa! That's way more than we were hoping to spend!"
Avis lady: "Do you want me to see if I can get you a discount?"

WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND IS GOING TO SAY NO TO THAT QUESTION?!

In 15 seconds she came back with this offer:
"OK, I can offer you $260 including tax and unlimited kilometres. How does that sound?"

How the fuck did that happen? Note readers: Never take the first offer on a rental car. Clearly the markup is just to see if you're desperate enough to take it.

I was half-tempted to see if she'd go lower, but never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I accepted it and took down my confirmation number. Of course, I have no faith that this giant 4x4 will be available tomorrow, because really, that's just not the way my life works, but for a moment I was buoyant with hope. Maybe this trip would be great after all...

Then I went to www.theweathernetwork.com and saw this:


Motherfuckers.

Followed by this:


Just a note here that we actually come home on Wednesday. See all those bright sunny bobbles towards the end of the week? Well I'll be back at work to enjoy those from my window seat.

To top it ALL off, my period decided to arrive a farking full 10 days before it was supposed to! Just to fuck with me with that rumour that bears can smell menstruating women. So I'm going to have wet curly bangs, maxi pads and a panic attack about bears and another one about lightning hitting the tent. (Way to be a positive thinker Scarb!)

Internets, my family could really use a nice break together. So I don't know what kind of magic you do, but you've done it for me in the past. Could you just put a second of your thoughts towards turning this around? Maybe you could envision us on a sunny beach? I will repay you with a proper post about the outcome and fabulous pictures of my cuties.

(Ooh, I forgot how much I like blogging for myself! Going back and reading last year's camping and BlogHer posts made me so glad that I kept a record of my life somewhere.)

Speaking through pictures

So it appears I am using images to speak for me until I know what I would like to say and where I would like to say it. I'm still chatting up a storm of embarassment on Twitter, albeit at a twee 140 characters. If you're not on Twitter yet, what are you waiting for? Sure, it's kind of pointless, but it's also pretty fun.

In the meantime, J finally added the film he made of how we weirdly, awesomely got engaged, to YouTube. I can't watch it without thinking about how we made it; what our relationship was like when we got engaged, and then later when we made this film. By the time we premiered the film in Winnipeg, we had a 2 month-old in tow. And I can't help but think of that experience too.

Things are lovey dovey around here. Not the unknowing, all-consuming lovey dovey of our engagement NINE POINT FIVE YEARS AGO, but a mutual respect lovey dovey that hasn't been in this house for a while. It's quite nice really. Like fresh Ontario raspberries on vanilla ice cream. Simple and sweet. I know that, like the raspberries, it won't last, but I'm happy it's here now.

While I'm Ruminating...

Thanks for all your suggestions on how I can continue blogging in light of the changes in my life. I'll be finding a way to start over, but in the meantime, perhaps I can entertain you with a little glimpse into my entertaining family life. The huz likes to make these little movies after a day with the kids. The make me laugh to no end. Hopefully they'll do the same for you.

Stifled

I'm stuck peeps. I've been hiding in the real world as a result. You see a took a great job that has made me a professional and a semi-public figure -- but my online voice is completely stifled.

The old me would have been OK with everyone knowing my business. But the reality of colleagues' faces when they've just read about your relationship with your husband, well it's beginning to make me uncomfortable.

Worse still is the fact that any PR person can Google me and find out that while I smiled throughout their event, I found it hilariously weird to be putting a piece of sausage in my mouth just as the massage portion of the event was beginning (I cannot do this justice without possibly hurting my career).

I am completely stifled. I cannot mock anything, barely even myself any more -- not publicly. Even on Twitter I find myself censoring what I want to say. Those of you who have been coming here a long time know that my honesty is my best asset. I have to write things EXACTLY as I feel them. If I can't comment on the world as I see it, what the heck can I write?

I'm completely stumped. And sad. I have loved my online home. It's may way of documenting my life, my family's life. But how can I blog with rules? Do I just continue to put it all out there and deal with the repercussions later? I can't risk losing my job in this economy -- not worth it. But do I just have to find a way to deal with the knowing stares of people who know and read me? Or do I have to tear it all down and start over again, finding a new way to write publicly and another way to write anonymously?

I really need your help on this one Internets. I chose the path of editor of a website (that I am forever an ambassador of at all times) over trying to make a living as a blogger. Do I just suck it up and decide I've made my career choice? Help?!

35 candles on my cake

I turned 35 on Tuesday. Ack, I thought, I am now officially closer to 40 than I am to... you know... being 21 again.

Then I thought back to my last big milestone birthday. At 30 I was freshly in my second trimester, expecting my first child. All I could think about was not being able to get drop-down drunk (damn baby!). But taking stock at 35, I find myself contentedly ticking important goals off the life list. 35 definitely beats 25 as far as achievements go. (As far as stretch marks and spontaneity go, 25 gets the win.)

By far the biggest joys of being 35 are my two incredible kids. I know it sounds like a cliché (and it definitely would to my 25-year-old self ), but the kids are really the shining stars of my life right now. I complain an awful lot (and some parts of motherhood are truly horrible), but even knowing what I know now, I would still tell the 25-year-old me that she should have kids with the man she loves. (The man she loved at the age of 25 incidentally.)

I asked my mama friends on Twitter what were the best things about turning 35. Mom of two and author of the fun blog A Day in the Life, Karen Meg shared my feelings about having kids: "The best thing about turning 35 was that I was finally a mom that year, after several years of trying." Then added, "Oh, and zits not happening so frequently, and my parents finally realizing that I was an adult... well, sorta!"

Sarah Juliusson of Mama Renew eased my fears about turning 40. "The best? Only 5 away from 40. I turn 40 on Sat & feel clear, strong, growing, and wilder by the day." Then she shared this post that beautifully encapsulated that feeling of self-contentment and drive to be the best you that is hard to come by in your twenties.

I'm looking forward to 40. Maybe not the added greys and wrinkles that will come with it, but the next five years of watching my children grow, laughing with my husband, the great conversations with dear girlfriends (or my Mom), and taking my career to the next level make turning 40 look pretty good.

Mama moments: Preschool grad

It was one thing when my baby boy turned four. He started to refuse anything he deemed "too baby." But I got over it. I had to.


Then I got an email a few weeks ago, informing me that preschool grad was a week away. My son, graduating preschool, entering Kindergarten in the fall -- how the heck did that happen?


Before I was a mom, I would have thought that preschool graduation was just another capitalist invention to sell greeting cards and useless gifts. But in the world of modern motherhood, it's an opportunity to take stock of the years that have passed. (Besides, greeting cards are wasted on those who don't read yet!)


I have a lot of guilt about my choices (I'm Armenian -- I was raised on guilt) and for a long time I wondered if I was doing Nate a disservice by going back to work when he was 15-months-old. But at preschool grad I looked around the room at the fabulous people who spend their days with my son everyday. I felt truly happy and blessed that these caring, patient women (not to mention the incredible little kids) were there to brighten my son's day.


We found him a good spot -- not a perfect spot by any means, but a place that we could afford and that he seemed to get a lot out of socially. Regardless of how many times he said, "I don't want to go today," at pick up time he never wanted to leave.


I remember early on, meeting with the teachers and asking what they did for Kindergarten prep. They responded coolly, "We teach them how to behave around other children, how to get in line, how to sit quietly when asked and how to follow a teacher's instructions." We get so caught up in who's kid is learning French and eating organic at daycare, that we forget the truly simple-yet-important skills a good preschool/daycare centre should provide.


Teacher friends always say that kids who have attended a daycare are a joy to teach in Kindergarten; that they come ready to learn. My son can't quite write out his name well yet, but he's so excited about Kindergarten that he quivers with joy when telling friends that he's going in the fall (and that his best-friend Nathan will be in his class).


Watching my son go up to receive his diploma signified a turning point for me. I no longer feel guilty about my choice -- I completely feel it was the best decision for my family.


There are so many bad news stories about putting one's kids in the care of others. I thought I'd say thank you to Miss Heather, Miss Rosa, Miss Michele, Miss Kathrina and Miss Rachel by sharing a good one.