Sounds Like Dairy Queen For Everyone!

Yesterday was the last day of school for Daughter and Middle Child. They got incredible report cards.

"How many marks were A, A- or A+?" she asked. Ten. The other marks were B+ (all in math, so guess what we're working on this summer). She was thrilled, particularly in French because she started the year with only a B so she really buckled down. How great is it to realize at her age that you CAN be rewarded when you exercise effort?

Middle Child's report card is entirely written. Glowing. I wept. Seriously, the kid has come so far. Sure, he's blossomed into this smart geek (as I told my friend Jules, I'm hoping for Clark Kent and not Urkel), but socially, well, it's another case of being rewarded after much effort. He's making friends.

As I always do, I wrote the teachers letters of gratitude. I figure they can use it when they're up for review or something. Or just read it. Whatever. Being a writer, it comes to me like peeing. It has come to a point where my father prefers mushy greeting cards to my writing a mushy note in a blank one because I've spilled none of my blood. It's more of a joke between us; not quite so maudlin. Anyway, Daughter said it made her teacher cry.

Daughter cried last night because she didn't want school to end. Should I take that as a slap because she'd rather not be at home, or rejoice that she loves learning?

And now Husband is reading over my shoulder, giving me writer's block. See? It does shut off.

Here's a fun and freaky math game.

Two Full Bowls of Chips and a Burning Question

Middle Child had birthday-o-rama. He got his extended family party. Then the immediate family celebrated it on the actual birthday. Today, he had a few friends over to see a movie and then back to the house for barbecue (no one ate), chips (no one ate), fruit (no one ate), and cake (pretty much everyone just licked the icing).

My mum stayed the whole week with us. It was great having her around, even just to pick up the kids from school. She took each kid out individually, which they loved.

She got to see Baby Boy's year-end extravaganza at his school. He spotted us right away and looked happy and all. We were right in the front row, so he couldn't miss. But then he noticed the many, many other grown-ups in the gym and was like a deer in the headlights up there on stage.

All in all, I think the week took a lot out of her. The kids wouldn't leave her alone and her back was acting up quite a bit, particularly in the morning. The doctors still don't know what it is. Getting older sucks, it seems.

And for all of you who know my mother, yes, I cooked fish on Friday. I made a rather nice grilled mahi mahi with homemade parmesan fries and berries for dessert.

BURNING QUESTION
What is the protocol if someone sends you an email (obviously personal) in error? I get this a lot. Post what you do, should it happen to you. Please.

Attending Journalism School Made Me Sensitive

And I'm making ashtrays. I'm so witty, I'm a regular Quentin Crisp.

Crappy journalism is alive and well and seems to have made its home at Fox News.

So I'm at the gym, forced to watch either Fox news, the country music channel, an infomercial or Much Vibe. Some talking head on Fox is going on about the "terrorists in Toronto". Blah, blah, blah "... and one of them went to flying school!"

Had I mentioned how much I enjoy The Colbert Report?

It was made perfectly clear last week that the kid took a very basic introductory community college course on airplane aerodynamics and mechanics. And he dropped out not far into the class. No flying, but maybe the kid can identify components of avionics.

I've worked at a number of Canadian news sources in my career as a journalist. People got fired for less reason than that. I myself almost got canned for putting the wrong page number on the Sunshine Boy page (unintentional, I swear). I pleaded with the editor and managing editor that they couldn't hire my replacement for as little as they were paying me. They laughed and kept me on.

My cousin works in law enforcement. She drives a van, shuttling prisoners from the jail to the courthouse. She made a special trip to see the terrorist suspects but was starstruck (my aunt's words) when she saw the guards in full battle gear and handling pseudo machine guns.

Follow your dreams, my darlings.

Hot Iron

I'm on a t-shirt making bonanza. This is one I made for my dad for Father's Day. I made one for myself that reads "It's not PMS. It's you." I gave one to Daughter's violin teacher that says "I graduated summa cum laude for this" and even made it in University of Ohio colours. A diaper shirt I made for my friend's daughter says, "Does this diaper make my bum look big?"

Someone stop me.

My Son Likes Orange; He Cares Not About Oranje

My city, full of folk with Dutch heritage, is awash in orange. Apparently, World Cup fever is alive and well in southwestern Ontario.

Unintentionally, Husband dressed Middle Child, who has a Dutch name, completely in orange yesterday. He received lots of admiring looks from soccer-crazed Dutch patriots. Aardige kleren!

Retro Family Night

We went to a drive-in movie last night. Husband and I used to live in a bigger city that had a drive-in theatre not far, but that was when Daughter was a newborn. I loved being able to go to a first-run movie with Husband and not have to leave the baby with anyone.

Yesterday's theatre was about a 30 minute drive from the house, or it should have been had we not taken the left instead of the right. When we found ourselves 20 km away from Paris, Ontario, we knew enough to make a U-turn.

Of course, this didn't make matters any better from the peanut gallery in the back row booster seats. The "Are we there yets" had begun not 10 minutes out of town.

We actually got there in very good time. Baby Boy was already asleep, so the older kids and Husband went to the loo, the concession stand and had 10 minutes to play on the swings and such until the movie started.

Of course, by then, it was pretty late. The first movie ended at 11. Wouldn't you know that the kids stayed up until the end? I ended up making a screen out of a blanket so the kids couldn't see the second, more grown-up feature, The Da Vinci Code (and, by the way, don't waste your time). They fell asleep in no time, mind you.

It was a fun little outing for us. Daughter in particular found it to be totally novel ("I saw a movie in a field...in my car...and I was wearing pyjamas!"). And for a total of $27 and the opportunity to gas up in a town that sells for seven cents a litre cheaper than where we live, we might just do it again soon.

The Circus Under the Tent

My niece had her first communion last Sunday. It was probably the first day of one serious heatwave we had.

Middle Sister and her husband rented a tent with tables and chairs. Esthetically beautiful, a logistic boon. The white tent actually kept the oppressive heat away, but maybe too well because everyone stayed way late and all of her neighbours dropped in. We left at about 9 (after I dressed my nephews in their pajamas so maybe people would get the hint) and the neighbours were still in full-blast party mode. At least one of them brought their own liquor (three bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade).

But that was the guy who also mowed their lawn when we were at the ceremony.

The church ceremony was a mass with all of the Grade 2 kids from her school involved. They performed a song at the end and, in typical niece fashion, she sang it å la Celine Dion: full of gusto with lots of action. My niece does everything big. She's one of those people who grabs life by the horns and enjoys the adventure.

My parents walked us through the woods that back off to my sister's house after church. I wore kitten heels. I ended up having to take them off and walk through the pine needle and rock-strewn path barefoot, wishing I wore the Crocs that Daughter insisted on giving me for Mother's Day ("So we can be the same, Mumma!").

Back at the house, we got to work in the kitchen. Baby Sister stayed at home and heated food (all delicious), so I gladly took the tray of pastizzi around. "What are these?" Middle Sister's Italian-Canadian in-laws asked. "Maltese fruit of the gods," I replied. "You won't be disappointed." No one ever is. The only person I ever knew to hate them is a son of my dad's friend and he grew up to be a complete fuck-up. So there.

I spent most of the day working the crowd. Middle Sister was very busy and her husband pretty much kept to his side of the family, so I went around to my side. I can't complain; I love the company of my extended family. We don't get together nearly enough but when we do, we're never short on talk.

I kept away from my mother, who was in bossy mode again in the kitchen. I knew I'd just make her problems worse, and she called me the next day to thank me. Besides, Middle Sister's sisters-in-law (just the two that give me the heebie-jeebies) were also in the kitchen. Did I say my mum was bossy? Oh, no. Not comparatively. Not even close. It was when one sister-in-law pretty much unwrapped her gift to Niece to show me what she bought her that I just vowed not to even make any more eye contact with them. "I always find the nicest gift," she said.

Sorry, honey. If we're in a pissing match, I'm not squatting. Besides, I'll win. Why? Frankly, I think our niece would like mine better. I give my sister's kids the best gift I ever got from most of my aunties: time and respect for the persons they are. The bought gifts I got were pretty rockin' too, I say immodestly.

I think the highlight of the day came from my little nephew. I was swinging him around, playing rough the way he likes, stopping occasionally to hydrate him. When his mum brought out the bubble machine, he gestured that our playtime was over. "Tane too," he said to me and gave me a kiss on the lips. My first unprompted, from the heart, kiss from that boy. My cup runneth over.

Before we hit the highway, we gassed up. The sign said 95.3 but the pump was 91.5. That possibly was the cherry on Husband's Sunday.

After sitting beside my father and his sour coffee breath, I always thought a mint variety would go over well.