I had a dream about you the other night. I was flying to Halifax, see, and there was this terribly annoying woman sitting next to me on the plane so I decided to take a nap. And I dreamt of you. It was one of those flashback, snapshot-type dreams with no clear plot, but you were there and you were laughing.

It’s been one week now since you died, and with you that warm-hearted laugh. And I find myself wondering how you managed to keep it together at the end. By all accounts you were cheerful and upbeat right until the last breath. Even though you knew you would never see your grandchild grow up, even though you knew that the days of kissing your wife were numbered, even though you knew this was your last July, you retained a sense of humour about the whole thing.

I can’t imagine how.

In the week since your passing, people have poured out thoughts and condolences. EZ called you a perfect gentleman, RL said you were one of the great intellects. Various relatives have said you were very brave, and I wholeheartedly agree. Why does this stuff happen to the good guys, IL said angrily. Why indeed.

To me, you were the comic relief. The chuckle at the end of the table when someone said something ridiculous. You were the person I looked to for book recommendations, the person I looked to for opinions that challenged my own, and the person I most wanted to get to know better. But there are so many of us, and we all think we have forever to start, and now I’m at a loss because I feel like I didn’t put in enough time. Didn’t try hard enough to engage.

But regrets are a waste of time, and I’m sure you would agree. Instead, I will celebrate your life by promising to be more positive during the difficult times, to be brave when things seem to be fraying away, and to enjoy every second I get to spend with those I hold dear.

I miss you, Uncle Ron. You were the best of men. And the world is worse without you in it.

xo

angela

Somewhere in the midst of wondering whether or not we should have a second baby, I managed to get pregnant. Ha! I am at once both disturbed and thrilled at the idea of having another baby. Or two babies – Budsie is pretty convinced that there are two babies in there. I think it’s just because he likes the number two, but it’s still unnerving to hear him say “Hi babies!”. Yikes.

Anyway, so I’m 7 weeks along and doing ok. It’s the same as last time – tired, moody, vomity, and a terrible case of pregnancy brain. So far, I have forgotten to put soap in the diaper laundry, I have forgotten to wash conditioner out of my hair, I have tried to make coffee with cold water, and I have overfed the cat twice.  I have also been feeling sicky at night so it’s back to the whole soda-crackers-in-the-bedside-table fun again. Which brings me to my brief post-West Wing conversation….

(Scene: Ezmy and A. have just finished watching an episode of The West Wing, and are now chuckling about this guy we saw in Byward Market the other night who informed us and everyone around him that he had to “fix his nuts”.)

Ezmy: “…just awful and funny all at once. What did EH think?”

A.: “Definitely amused.”

Ezmy: “Hilarious. On an unrelated note, I wonder when we should start telling people that we’re knocked up again.” (<–NOTE: This part of the conversation happened in my head, something I have a terrible knack of doing when I’m pregnant. I definitely thought I said it out loud.) “So have you mentioned it to AH?” (<–I am now referring to the pregnancy and not the guy we saw the other night…)

A.: “Haven’t had a chance to, no.”

Ezmy: “…or anyone at work?”

A.: “Well, it’s not exactly a lunch table type thing to bring up.”

Ezmy: “I’m not lunch table worthy?”

A.: “…?”

Ezmy: “What’s so wrong about telling people at the lunch table? It’s just a baby.”

A.: *looks at Ezmy with a half puzzled, half amused look on his face*

Ezmy: “What?”

A.: “What are you talking about?”

Ezmy: “The baby. Why, what are you talking about?”

A.: “The gotta fix my nuts guy.”

Ezmy: “Oh dear. I had that first part of the conversation in my head, didn’t I?”

A.: “So it would seem, yes.”

Ezmy: “Sigh.”

(short pause)

A.: “Or maybe you didn’t.”

Ezmy: “…”

A.: “I could just be messing with you. Maybe you did segway.”

Ezmy: “What!? Did I or didn’t I segway?”

A.: *chuckles* “You didn’t.”

Ezmy: “Ok, well goodnight then.”

(short pause) 

A.: “Or did you…”

Ezmy: “Goddamit, stop messing with me!”

A.: *snickers* Alright, bedtime.

*lights are turned out, but suddenly Ezmy feels the need to consume crackers. No matter, she can see well enough in the dark to find said crackers and she begins to munch on one while searching for her phone to play scrabble.*

Ezmy: *munch munch munch*

A.: “Soooo….you’re just going to sit in the dark eating crackers now eh?”

Ezmy: *snorts crackers out nose, laughing* Yes, yes I am. What of it?”

A.: “Alright then.” *laughs at crazy wife* 

So I have a few conversations to post, some fascinating news to relate, and yoga challenge updates galor. But I’m way too busy finishing off one of my goals for 2012: the completion of that damn MA thesis from three trillion years ago. Can’t talk – must go on writing drivel. This has taken longer than I had hoped, due in no small part to the a) publication of a book that mirrored my original thesis and b) the fact that unlike me, the academic community did not shut down for 2.5 years. Basically had to start over from scratch. Excellent.

Ah well, I have a due date of September 30, 2012 and I have 100% confidence that this beast can be completed by then. But posts will likely be infrequent. I’ll try to get something up tonight or tomorrow….

Why is there a picture of a coffee mug in today’s post? Oh, this isn’t just any old coffee mug. This is a symbolic and wonderous coffee mug. Allow me to explain….

On this day six years ago, I met this guy. I was told I simply had to meet this guy – he was funny, intelligent, sarcastic and handsome. He sounded pretty fantastic, so I went on the date. A date which turned into a whole weekend of awesome, which I have to tell you was quite the relief. I’d had such horrid luck in the dating department up until now, I was really starting to wonder if I should just quit altogether.

The gentleman in question left on the Sunday, but invited me to visit him on the following weekend. First, I wondered if he would actually call – I mean, you know how that stuff goes. And then, when he did call, I wondered if I still liked him. I mean I knew I liked him, but what if I had built him up in my head, you know? Was he really that fantastic? Hmmm. As Thursday drew near, I began to worry. I mean, what if he was crazy? I tend to only attract crazy after all. And was I really going to go spend a weekend with someone I barely knew in a town I barely knew? Eep.

Thursday arrived and my gentleman showed up at the door to pick me up (point for saving me the bus ride into H.). When I opened the door, I was instantly ridiculously happy. He was a) wearing a ‘Republicans for Voldemort’ t-shirt, b) carrying two coffees from my favourite local coffeehouse, and c) crazy hot. Phew!

Yes, yes Ezmy, but where does the mug come in?

Right, so the mug was actually purchased that weekend. On the Saturday, I believe. Thursday was a wicked concert date with the gentleman and his friends, who were all awesome and super friendly (JE made me feel so at home, I didn’t want to leave). Friday was another great day (coffee, chatting, newspapers, long walks) and another night out with more awesome friends (RP and MC and EH and oh so many wonderful folks). By Saturday, I was saturated with feelings of awesomeness. These people were lovely, this man was lovely, this town was lovely. As we set out for another super fun adventure, I saw this coffee mug in the window of a drug store and thought “I love that mug. And you know what? I want it!” I told the gentleman I simply had to go inside, to which he replied, “Sure!” and happily joined me. No moaning about having to be somewhere or rolling his eyes over a silly whim. SO REFRESHING!

I purchased the mug for $5. And almost three months later, I unpacked that same mug and put it in the cupboard of my first apartment with A., alongside his graduation mug.

My man, he is the greatest. Best six years ever.

So, I’m a day behind on my updates, but things are going well.

Yesterday was one of those days. I woke up and went upstairs to do yoga at around 6am but within 10 minutes, I had given up. My heart wasn’t into it. Indeed, all I wanted to do was eat and read Vogue and lie in bed. So I went back downstairs, and crawled under the blankets to eat a bowl of Budsie’s cereal.

Fifteen minutes of rather pathetic cereal eating later, I decided that this was ridiculous. Budsie was going to be up soon, and I needed to be dressed when that happened. I also needed to snap out of it if I was going to be at all useful to my kid that day. Indeed, one of the great/difficult things about having kids is that feelings of woe-is-me-I-want-to-eat-bonbons-and-read-trash simply cannot be indulged. Someone needs to eat healthy food, someone wants to go to the park, someone wants to read stories. So I leapt out of bed, threw on some park clothes and got my ass in gear.

The rest of the day was an uphill battle – yes, yoga got done (largely thanks to the company of Fialonia). Yes, food was purchased and cooked, parktimes and popsicle fun was had, the kitchen was cleaned and the birthday cupcakes for today were made. But every single step of the day was like pulling teeth; I needed constant internal pep talks. Needless to say, I was most grateful for my bed by the end of it.

Today has been totally different. And it has gone super well – yoga, clean house, plus crazy birthday fun times with the little man. Because he’s TWO!! Unbelievable. To celebrate, we went to Starbucks for a bagel and fruit lunch, picked up some stuff for Saturday’s family fun party, went to Chapters to play with the trucks and trains and read some books, rode the bus (this is fast becoming a favourite pastime for Budsie, now that he’s stroller-free for the most part), had a french toast and vegetable and fruit lunch, a long nap (him, not me), popsicles and cucumbers with Fialonia, new book reading time, tricycle-testing fun, then mac and cheese with broccoli, and blueberry birthday cupcakes (pictured above) for dessert. Phew! Toddlers really know how to pack a day.

Right, off to bake another cake for this weekend’s family fun party. Busy busy busy…

Right, not the best lighting here, but you get the idea. Note my awesome Crowbar shirt. Crowbars are full of tasty goodness. If you are in the Halifax area, you need to make your way to the Halifax Seaport Market and pick one or a murder of these badboys up. NOM!

So what’s this about a do over? Well, here’s what happened. Everything was going swimmingly. I missed Friday somehow (slept in, had sexy AB company), but was raring to go Saturday. Until I lifted Budsie. My almost-two year old is a whopping 32lbs now, and when I went to lift him up on Saturday, he decided to throw his 32lb weight around a bit, causing me to lean forward. OUCH! It’s all better now, but yoga didn’t happen Saturday or Sunday.

Which brings me to the do over part. I wish to start fresh with my 30 days. So I’m gonna. It is my challenge after all, and as the judge of said challenge, I call do over. Jollied along by the support of friends, and a co-challenger, HF, and taking care not to lift the kidlet unless absolutely necessary, I think this time will be more successful. YAYA!

So a new Day one and Day two:

Monday, June 4: Skipped back bends section, but did a double round of sun salutations to make up for it. Feel pretty splendid, but exhausted. MUST fall asleep before midnight the night before.

Tuesday, June 5: Used today to work on ‘entering poses with conviction’. Mr. Yee is always telling me to enter each pose with conviction. This is actually harder than it sounds, particularly when moving from downward dog to, say, warrior one. But if I think carefully, and go a tad slower than I would naturally go, I can enter each pose with conviction and focus. Feels good, and challenges the brain a bit.

Focus, focus, focus.

Two things to note:

1) I will have a yoga challenge progress update for you shortly.

2) I simply cannot believe that this is the first pre-The Office conversation I’ve written up, given how many times A. and I have watched the seven seasons that we own (*cough, 8 times, cough cough*). And this one isn’t even about The Office. It just happened before it.

—

(Scene: A. and Ezmy are in the kitchen preparing to go downstairs for a little pre-bedtime episode of The Office. This preparation almost always involves gathering together a light bedtime snack of some sort. For Ezmy, this will be steamed soy with honey. For A., this will be chocolate. Any chocolate will do…)

A.: *surveys the cupboards and locates half a bag of chocolate chips* “A ha!”

Ezmy: “You know, if you eat those I won’t be able to make you chocolate chip cookies tomorrow.”

A.: *strikes up a conversation with himself* “Hmm would you like cookies tomorrow or chocolate chips now?” “Um, yeah chocolate chips now.” “Woot.” “Wingbang.” *grins like a little kid and walks away*

Ezmy: “Hehe.”

Hmpf, this morning was only meh. I woke up just stupid tired because I stayed up too late last night. Determined to kick off the day with some blood-flowing yoga, however, I grabbed my mat and went upstairs to meet Mr. Yee.

Within about 10 minutes, I realized the difference between yoga and other forms of exercise. With running, I find I can push myself to finish the run even when I’m not really in the mood to be there. And I always feel better for it. With yoga, I can still say things to myself like “come on, Ezmy, buck up!” but you simply can’t force someone into mindfulness and calm breathing. So I did my hour, sure, but I felt resentful and grumpy most of the time. Lamesauce, as my cousin Fialonia would say.

I suppose that’s a clear sign that I need proper sleep in order to have a good yoga day. Ah well, better luck tomorrow, right? And perhaps my meditation during Budsie’s nap will go extra specially well.

In much better news, this is how my day looks today:

*breakfast fun with little man

*play with rocks and sand outside with little man

*read stories with little man

*lunch and chats with little man

*cuddles and nap time with little man

*meditation

*thesis page or two

*SEXY AB ARRIVES!

So despite having a meh yoga day, I sense things will get better quickly. Off to make a cup of coffee and say good morning to Budsie!

Day seven went by smoothly on the yoga front, not so much on the meditation front. Yes, I sat there for the required 15 minutes but I had troubles reaching a sense of calm and peace because the “landscapers” were here in full weed-whacker force. (These guys – if they spent half as much time cleaning up the cigarette butts that forever seem to be in my backyard, or weeding the flower beds as they did weed whacking and blowing grass around the parking lot, this place would look amazing. I swear they fight over who gets to wander about the property with the leaf-blower, randomly blowing things about. Sigh.)

Anyway, so the lesson of the day was learn to tune out the noise. This will take some time, I think, as I am easily brought out of concentration. Except when reading, oddly – hmmm, must figure out how to apply this skill beyond reading.

In non-yoga related stuff, I made a batch of blueberry muffins today using table cream instead of soy milk. I had leftover table cream in the fridge, see, and since we don’t really use cream for anything except the odd pasta sauce, I thought why not? Well. Now I’ll never be able to go back to vegan blueberry muffins, at least not the way I was making them before. Holy scrumptious batman!

Right, off to chill with Ewan in the park. It’s a beautiful day in O-town, folks! Get outside!

So day six was not a full hour. BUT in my defence, A. telephoned part way through and since a) he is in Halifax and b) today was his gran’s funeral, I thought best to pick up the telephone.

At first, I was mildly irritated with myself for leaving the yoga until the end of the day – I baked this morning (emergency muffins and pancakes in lieu of bread), and I did work for Mum during nap time so technically I could have been yoga-ing it up during those times, thus avoiding the disruption tonight.

But then I thought, pfft. This is what practicing yoga is all about for me after all – achieving balance in my life. And balance in one’s life sometimes means taking those important calls to support a loved one, or baking muffins at 6am because your little man needs something to breakfast on and he can’t eat yoga poses.

So I still feel successful with my 40 minutes. Tomorrow is a new day – early morning yoga, thesis, park fun with the Budsie, and a spot of early housecleaning because sexy AB is coming for a visit on Thursday. I have a spare yoga mat – I wonder if I can drag her into the challenge?