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September 25, 2009

Wardrobe malfunctions

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Last night I was getting Mads’ clothes ready for preschool – which, by the way, she loves, despite having forewarned me that she’d be “running back home” if we tried to leave her there – when mild panic ensued.

“NO!!! Not that shirt!!!”

(Side note: Why must everything be yelled? I’m standing right beside you, we’re the only two people in the room, I’m not hearing impaired – yet – and we don’t live on a railroad crossing. Can’t we just talk like normal people?)

Me: “What’s wrong with this shirt?”
Mads: “I don’t want the monkey shirt, I want the rainbow shirt!”
Me: “The rainbow shirt is in the wash because it has pudding all over it.”
Mads: “But the teacher doesn’t sing a song about monkeys.”

So I had to explain that our clothes don’t always need to match the song we’ll be singing that day. That would be a dangerous trend to start. Really, how many pairs of apple-bottomed jeans and boots-with-the-fur can a girl own?

That didn’t settle it, though.

Mads: “But what will the kids say if I wear the monkey shirt?”
Me: “Um… maybe they’ll say, ‘Wow, nice shirt, Mads.’”
Mads: “No, maybe they’ll say, ‘That’s a bad shirt, I don’t like it!’”

Wow. Is this really starting already? She’s three years old and worried what other kids will think of her monkey T-shirt? For some reason I figured I had another half dozen years or so before these wardrobe complexities set in. If she asks me for a pair of Hannah Montana hot pants, I am out of here.

For the record, she did refuse to wear the monkey shirt come time to leave for preschool, replacing it with something that was “much more sparklier.” I sense a world of trouble ahead.

September 25, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

September 14, 2009

Can you feel the love?

Man_Covering_His_Ears cartoon Here’s a sweet little conversation that took place in the car on our weekly pilgrimage to Home Depot:

Mads (yelling as if she’s three cars over instead of just a foot from my ear, in her car seat): “What are you talking about up there, guys?”
Me: “We’re just talking about what we’re going to do today, Mads.”
Mads: “Stop talking about that please, okay?”
Me: “Um… what do you want us to talk about?”
Mads: “Don’t talk about nothing, okay? Sometimes when you talk too much, Mommy, it makes my ears hurt.”
Me (sarcastically, over the sound of F’s laughter): “Well, what if I talk quietly, do you think that would be okay?”
Mads: “Okay, you talk very quietly, Mommy, because if you talk and talk and talk my ears will hurt and then I have to cover them with my hands like this (demonstrating)... okay, Mommy?”
Me: “Yeah, I got it. Thanks.”

At least she doles out the sunshine in equal doses: Later, as F was singing along to the radio, he was told, “Daddy, you don’t sing that good, actually.”

September 14, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

September 04, 2009

Friday Finds: Munch, the family restaurant

MunchResto1 I've decided to try to make myself a bit more useful and so am taking a tiny break today from treating the blog as a dumping ground for my neurotic maternal tendencies. Instead, I'm going to use it to pass along a great new find: Munch!

Those of you who live elsewhere, unless you're willing to hop a flight for dinner, this won't be of much use to you at all. So, um, sorry about that. But I promise to add an international flair to my Friday Finds from time to time. Happy? Good!

Now, onto Munch. Before I go any further, I need to say that this entire fabulous culinary concept was my idea and it has, clearly, been stolen. Don't you just hate it when that happens? You come up with a completely genius idea and then while you're sitting around doing jack squat about it someone else decides to be all pro-active and energetic and stuff and actually make it happen? SO irritating. But I will be the bigger person and go ahead and recommend this place anyways. 

Munch, formerly known as Baby Eats, is a restaurant in North Vancouver that makes dining out with kids... wait for it... enjoyable. The tables are situated around a gigantic play area that is full of books, dolls, trucks, trains, a play kitchen, a playhouse, dress-up gear, ride on toys. You name it, it's there. Of course, being that we're in North Van, it's all wooden and organic and non-toxic, as is the food on the menu (well, not wooden, but the food is local, organic and, presumably, non-toxic).

The food is also completely delicious. Chicken curry? Heavenly. Chicken penne? Well, considering I ate a quarter of F's meal while he took Mads to the washroom, it must've been pretty damn good. I should be honest and admit that our 3-year-old would not recommend the turkey and quinoa meatballs - surprise, surprise. The quesadillas were a hit, though - once I asked for extra ketchup.

But best of all, we've been there twice now and not once have I broken out into a cold sweat or swallowed my food without chewing in effort to get the bill and get the hell out before complete chaos erupts. F and I actually managed to have a conversation over dinner. A conversation that didn't start with the words "I spy with my little eye." Oh, and did I mention they have a wine list? That's what I call paradise, my friends. 

I wouldn't say it's cheap, but it's worth every penny. 

Find the details here: munchmunch.ca

September 4, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack

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"Having a two-year-old is like having a blender that you don't have the top for." ~Jerry Seinfeld.

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