Music Practice.

An impromptu melody. And recorded proof that the girls DO actually practice their instruments.

Besties.

Girlies had a couple of friends come spend the day with them on Saturday.
An overdue visit. Long overdue.

These kiddos are growing up way too fast. Seriously.

Doesn't seem like that long ago that their ma and I were changing their diapers.

Now all four of them are in school.

And they all think they're smarter than their ma and me.

Of course, they aren't.

But probably one day they will be.

Yikes.

Egg Decos.

I know it's a little early for the Easter Bunny yet, but we've been working on our egg decorating.

Sugar cookie eggs, that is.

No pun intended, but this photo cracks me up.
Number One intensely gathers just the perfect amount of color on her brush.

Number Two, hair askew, happily sings along to her MP3.

We made our "paint" with egg-wash and food coloring. Fun, fun, fun.

Busy little hands at work. Patience, patience, patience.

Decorating complete, into the oven went the eggs...

...which created a very pleasant aroma in the kitchen...

...and drew Daddie out of his office.

And those cute little treats began to disappear.

Top O' The Mornin' Food.

Despite extensive googling, I haven't been able to find a local retailer who imports the 'Irish potater bread' that I grew up on. I have devoured unlimited amounts of it every time I've travelled back to the Old Country. Have even attempted making it on several occasions, based on a recipe from a good Irish friend. But, it just never really turned out.

My realization is, I wasn't adding enough flour. When I was a little girl, my mother used to say, "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again." And boy, am I glad I gave this another try!

Look at that. Fresh from the pan. Just needs a dollop of butter. Yum.

See this little chickie?

She l.o.v.e.s. potato bread.

Do you see that stash in the ziploc?

That's for her Recess snack tomorrow.

She'll warm it in the classroom microwave.

And eat it, with her pre-packaged ration of butter.

Personally, I think it tastes almost as good as the Ormo.

Almost.

Just doesn't make for very good diet food. Nope. Way-hay too many carbs.

There is, so there is.

Fun. And Friends.

We made an airport drop-off yesterday afternoon. For a couple of faraway friends, who honoured us with the pleasure of their company over breakfast.

The comments from the girls in the back seat on our way home from YVR...

• "Wow. They gave us so much stuff. Did they, like... like us, or somethin'?"
• "Seriously, Mom. They're like the coolest. Everrrr."
• "I really like them. Auntie Sheryl and Uncle... um... whats-his-name-again?"
• "Can we please go see them at their house? Pluh-eeeese?"

And here's a picture of "the coolest" Name and No-Name in the girls' world.

We think you're pretty cool too.

Seriously. Thanks for slotting us into your vacation time. It was such a treat to catch up with you after what has been way too long.

The recipe book is totally fascinating, and has claimed much of our attention over the last few hours. Last night we baked some brownies, and today we made these.

Smile...!

Thanks again for the many ways you blessed us in the space of a few hours. Old friends are the best friends. Always the same. Never change.

In my best Newfie accent... thanks for coming to where we're to, to see wadda we at!

And subsequent to applauding the honorary couple from the back seat, Miss K... being her frugal self... quietly did a mental calculation.

Then she spouted a running tally of exactly how much Mr No-Name happened to spend on her.

If you need written documentation, I'm sure she'd be be happy to oblige!

GO Canada!

We were there.

Cheering with the 23,000-strong crowd at BC Place. Watching as the Canadian Women's Soccer team set out to see if they could earn a place at the 2012 Olympics in London this summer.

If you know me at all, you'll know that I have no particular fondness for womens soccer. Nor any soccer for that matter. But the evening entertained me just the same.

Knee socks and cleats. Showin' the love.

 

My little ladies got right into the Canadian spirit.

As did my soccer-lovin' better half. He's such a sport.

The Canadian goalkeeper was a sight to behold. Her red hair may have been fake, but her fierce antics on the field were real. She's dominant. Powerfully so. Let's just say I wouldn't want to cross her in the locker room. Not that I'd ever be in the locker room. But you know what I'm sayin'.

The Mexican fans filled about a quarter of the stadium, but they definitely made more than their numbers in noise. One section of the green team close by us were extra loud and boisterous. Whether they'd been drinking a little too much Mezcal or whether that's how they typically root for their soccer team, don't know. Ole, ole, ole, ole! Sombreros and baile. Amazing patriotism.

Although I still don't know what "ole" means.

I was rootin' for Canada. And Canada won.

And I'm Canadian.

That, in itself, was pretty exciting.
They're goin' to London!

And here's a couple of wearies, riding home on the Skytrain.

Announcement.

Funny how the passage of life seems to be an accumulation of family titles. My ship has dropped anchor at several ports since I first set sail as a "Newborn". "Kid", "Teen", "Adult", "Auntie", "Wife".

"Mother". Been docked here for a while now. And I'm still standing starboard, even though this parenting at times feels like I'm riding the waves out in the wide open sea, in the middle of a hurricane.

Now it seems 2012 is destined to land me in a brand new harbour.

Ahoy, Grandma Bay.

First little grandbaby expected by K&A is due in July.

C&J's will join the clan a few weeks later in August.





We're all absolutely thrilled at the prospect of new babies in our family. They bring so much joy and delight. This Christmas 2012 will certainly be different when we all get together with two babies on the premises! And hopefully with one little'un each, there'll be much less fracas between Alana and Kayleigh.

Despite all the excitement, I must admit I'm still a little reluctant about this whole idea of attaining the "granny" pseudonym.

Maybe, between now and the summer, we'll come up with a more youthful designation!

Sub Zero.

It's frigid here, where I live. Been Sub-Zero temperatures, all week.

It's certainly been a long while since I experienced -10 degrees. Almost forgotten the feeling. Your lungs somersault at the intake of icy cold air. Neglect to wear gloves, and your extremities will feel the skin-sting. Permanently chapped lips.

I remember a few times being in -25 to -30 temperatures.

The good, old Toronto days. I remember walking to catch the bus early in the morning, wrapped up in my Canadian winter garb. I remember washing my hair in the shower, one particularly icy morning, and neglecting to blow-dry it before making the aforementioned trek.

And my aunt. I vividly remember her.

Watching in sheer disbelief, as this crazy Irish immigrant ventured out of her house into the Sub-Zero, with dripping wet hair. "Your hair'll freeze!" she told me.

Boy, was she was right. My hair completely froze. It was an interesting concept, though. You could bend it this way and that, creating your own zig-zag do.

That morning, I also remember feeling dreadfully chilled. Partly because of the Sub-Zero. But mostly because... well, let's just say that I never opted for the zig-zag do again.

We got another skiff of snow here, last night. Just enough to warrant an official "Snow Day" from school. Hey, I'm happy to have an unscheduled day off, anytime.

Our local temperatures are forecasted to change tomorrow. Rise above the big 0. Bye-bye Sub-Zero. Those white, fluffy flurries will turn to wet, windy showers.

Just a simple, rainy reminder that I live in Vancouver.

Snowy Saturday.

It's been a challenge for my little ladies, resuming this formidable school routine after a lazy and leisurely two-weeks off. Waking to the shrill of the alarm clock at seven hundred hours has not been gently received. In fact, it's a wonder the Snooze button still works at all, considering how it's been hammered and sworn at, lately. And so this reticence at rising from their warm, cozy beds has made our regular morning drill of preparing for school a rather slow-motion affair.

I have to detour here, and show you this breath-taking sunrise, captured one morning this week.

Beautiful, isn't it? My heavenly Father painted that sky. I love His daily reminders to me of His goodness. "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not; they are new every morning." Lamentations 3:22-23.

Back on track. So... besides all the extra coaxing required on my part to get the little ladies moving, I've been fighting a cold. A nasty, sputtering, sneezing one. But I played tough this week, battled the self-pity. Determined not to miss work. Knowing that, come the weekend, I could sleep in. And hopefully shaft this horrible bug.

Saturday came.

Startled by unusual rustling in the darkness of our bedroom, I snuck open one eye, glanced at the alarm clock. Six forty-four am. What in the world?

And this is just what was causing all the excitement.

"Mom! Dad! It's snowing outside! Can we please go out and play?" came the whispered voices.

At least they said "please". But at 6:44am?!

The subsequent thoughts that came to my mind could never be blogged. It was obvious that at this ungodly hour, neither Stew nor I were entering into the thrill at hand. I grunted with disdain. Rolled over. The little ladies were shooed away. Told to go back to bed.

As if.

Instead they crept downstairs. Made us some toast and scrambled eggs. Brewed us some coffee.

Talk about flipping the script. They were now the ones cajoling us out of bed. Enticing us with the aroma of breakfast. And in slow-motion, we wearily surrendered.

By eight thirty, they had their snow gear on, went bounding outside, and were soon rolling around in the white stuff. I donned my winter boots, coffee in one hand, camera in the other, and headed out to join them. How could I not?

Hello 2012.

Hello 2012. Hard to believe 2011 is gone.

Reflecting, I am thankful for so much. Family time. Visits from friends. A trip to Disneyland. Being Mother-Of-The-Groom for a third time. Wow. Quite the résumé I have, these days!

But it was also a tough year. Sprinklings of grief and pain. Tradegy. Loss. Yet the Lord drew near in these circumstances, and reaffirmed my absolute need to depend on Him. He is the Mighty God. My constantly-abiding Comforter. The Prince of Peace. So I embrace this New Year with the promise of His never-failing love. And the Hope of His Coming.

I prefer not to burden myself with the whole concept of "resolutions" every New Year. It's a given that the new side of my leaf has a strong tendency to flip its old side right back over again in no time at all. Of course, there is plenty about my livelihood that should be addressed. Definitely a need for addition of some things, and the immediate subtraction of others. So... I'll keep you posted.

It was a relaxed and lazy Christmas break. So relaxed and lazy, in fact, that getting up early and back into routine this week was nothing short of a challenge. But it was good to be back in the classroom, back to lessons and learning. And wonderful to see all those sweet-faced little students again, reciprocating their delight at seeing me too. For this week, at least!

And it's only nine weeks until Spring Break. Oh yeah.