January Celebrations

January is an especially special time around our house, and it really is nice to have something to celebrate in the cold, dark month of January. Martin was born in January. January 20th, to be exact.

I love his birthday, not just because we get to celebrate his existence, also because it’s when things started for us. It’s the beginning of us. I had met him long before his 30th birthday party, but it was that party that ignited the cliched spark that now burns brightly on a daily basis. Barf, right?

Long before I came along….

I sometimes find myself thinking about what would’ve happened if I’d declined the invite to his birthday party way back in 2009, and I can barely fathom what I’d be doing right now. Certainly not sitting on the couch watching him play video games, with a giant belly bursting with baby.

He’s changed a lot in the last five years. Or maybe I just know him so much better. I’m not sure which–but it doesn’t matter, because I only love him more for it. And I am certain it will be that way until the day we die–I count on it. We are fully committed to each other and we will work hard to make it last forever.

I was watching Marigold kiss and play with her little wind up frog and found myself saying to her: “You might have to kiss a lot of frogs….”. I had to kiss a lot of frogs, and suffer a lot, and I mean A LOT of serious heartbreaks before I fell in love with Martin. I wouldn’t say that it was worth it, but what I would say is that it helped me realize and value what I have in my husband today. I had an amazing life before he came along, but he really has made my life so very nice. And for that, I am extremely grateful.

In light of all that, the lady McWaters’ of Parkdale celebrated by baking a cake while their Mister/Daddy slept late. We ate a lot of cake batter before it finally made it’s way in the oven. Our dinner was delicious Indian and we took it real easy. It’s a far cry from that first birthday we spent drunkenly belting karaoke at the Duke five years ago, but the celebration in my heart is just as strong.

**sorry for the blurry photos!!

Saturday Tea

I got all setup to sit down and get a few things done. I have been thinking through another post, and I had intended to write about music this afternoon. I realized that it’s going to be a monster to take on, and I think I’m going to have to put more thought into it than I have at this point.

Anyways, I’ve spent the majority of the week doing things for other people. Which, I guess, is the nature of my job and the nature of being a mother. I’ve pretty much got the chips stacked against me in the whole “take time for yourself” game. I’m not complaining…I love my life. And I’m really lucky that I have a partner who bears so much of the load around the house. That, however, does not change the fact that I’m just never done..at work, or at home.

Today I wanted to set aside some time for me. I have about 2 hours while (and if) Marigold naps on the weekend, which I usually use to get caught up on some housework. Martin was headed out for the afternoon and I wanted to write and also prep a recipe for his birthday cake on Sunday, so the housework was going to wait. I brewed some tea, tidied the office space (which is typically a disaster from the two McWaters’ with whom I share my abode) and sat down to find a chocolate cake recipe. I had time enough to copy down the recipe, take a photo of my favourite tea pot, and jot down these few lines.

Marigold’s nap was cut short. I heard her cry out for me a lot sooner than I’d expected. There’s laundry, dishes, and a pre-birthday dinner to prepare. But the hour I spent on myself this afternoon has priceless value for my life. While it may sound silly, the time I spend doing the things I love enables me to tackle the challenges that arise in my day to day life.

Though not likely as gratifying for anyone else as it is for me…this, my friends, is the product of my Saturday Afternoon for me. A lovely photo of a few of my favourite things.

Cat with Fish Purse Paint By Number
Crystal Creamer
My favourite vintage tea pot and matching sugar bowl
A Sally Ann special tea cup and saucer
2013 Project, Recipes and Plans Journal along with felt tipped pen
And of course, my favourite flower, white lillies.

His Name is Rico, and He Likes to Party

My first mother’s day, and I’m feeling nostalgic. Mostly because of the music.

I’m remembering how I used to do this all the time–sit around and listen to music and write crazy things about my life. I was reading back some of those things and I really did have a crazy life…like the pantsless dancing night with AJ. That seems like such a long time ago.

We’ve been watching the Sopranos–we’re almost done the entire series–and yesterday Tony Soprano said “Remember When is the lowest form of conversation”. While I love reminising as much as the next guy, I completely agree. I love my memories, but there are much more impending things to discuss, no? I guess you can’t make new memories by talking about old memories.

While I know today is mother’s day, I’m not going to write about my mum. Nor am I going to write about being a mum or brag about how I’ve carried a baby for nine months, or slept with a baby on my chest blah blah blah.

I’m thinking back to a day I can’t remember. Well, I guess I can remember it, just not the details. Normally I know what I was wearing, what song was playing and what I was drinking, but not this night. I was standing at the bar at the Cloak, on a Sunday night, I had just dumped one guy, was pursuing another and I was introduced to a young fellow by my good friend Brian. I thought nothing of it at the time, I was obviously preoccupied. I do remember it being a supreme night at the Cloak–I think it was a long weekend, as I didn’t have to work on the Monday. I wish I could remember the exact date. It makes me crazy that I can’t.

Fast forward to a year or so later. I’d had the “one last disastrous Peattie heartbreak” that I’d predicted when I parted ways with Mr. Ribs, and things with the One Who Loved Me just were not going to work out. I was single again, on the prowl, and I was invited to a birthday party at the Duke of Gloucester…again, Brian’s doing. Brian told me that his friend who was having the birthday had asked specifically for him to invite me. It was the young fellow I had met at the Cloak the year or so prior. I had completely forgot that I had even met him…forgot that he’d even existed. I’m still not sure to this day if Brian made that part up, but I guess it doesn’t really matter now. Anyways, I was shocked that he remembered me but figured it would be a blast either way, so off I set to this birthday party. The birthday party that changed my life. I spent the night, after many shots of jager and tequila, leaning against a wall staring into the eyes of the birthday boy like nothing else around us existed.

Today I see those same eyes staring up at me as I feed my baby.

After a couple of dates with him, I didn’t really see a future for us. I figured he was going to be another flash in the pan that was my social life. He seemed eager, sometimes too good to be true, and really, he wouldn’t stand for my snarky side, so he wasn’t going to last…this I was sure of. He could read my signals though, and that’s for sure, and I don’t mean in a sexy kindof way. He backed off when he needed to and advanced when the light was green. He knew all the right things to say and all the right moves to make. All the right moves for me.

Suddenly I’d found someone who was good enough, smart enough, and dog gone it–he liked me! His list of favourite bands was more than acceptable, he had a pretty good fashion sense and he was just as cool as me. It took me a while to learn all these things about him, but eventually I came to know that he was the one for me, and that I was in love.

I’d fallen in love so many times before, sometimes a couple of times a day. I was boy-crazy, but falling in love this time was the end of all that craziness. I’d met my soul mate, my life partner, my future husband. He’s perfect for me in every way. While I loved that craziness that was my life, it was worth giving it up for him. For the contentedness I’ve found in him and our relationship. He’s with me till the end of this extraordinary life, and he’ll be game the whole way.

I sit here and look at him reclining in his torn dad-type chair, wearing his fatherly checked shirt, with his dad-like hair cut, snacking on potato chips and playing video games and I’m so thankful. It’s because of him I celebrate mother’s day.

Thanks Martin.