But this was just one of those days.

This morning I finally called BCAA (for you Americans, think AAA I think it’s called?) to come and tow my car. They have this waiting thing for new members, where once you join you need to wait 48 hours before calling for a tow, or there’s an extra charge. Not surprisingly, BCAA couldn’t start my car with their Roadside Assistance vehicle, so I waited again for the tow truck. I’m not complaining – overall it wasn’t a bad wait.

The car got towed to a local place the BCAA recommends, and I walked to the nearest Starbucks for a coffee while I waited for the verdict. Uh. I wasn’t quite prepared for what it was. With a bit of deliberation though, Leif (on the phone) and I decided to go ahead with the repairs. The place has loaner vehicles, but … well, they were all out. So, bus to work. Bus back. Still no loaners. I do need to say here that the mechanic offered to loan me his /own/ vehicle for a couple of hours this evening, but I just knew what kind of evening our Thursdays are, and decided to stick with bussing until I can get a loaner tomorrow morning.

Okay, off to get Cameron. Off by bus across a major bridge and way west for his kickboxing. Dinner out, as per usual, with the added excitement that we’d not seen our usual ‘date’ night friends since early December. The service was s-l-o-w, unusually so, and we missed a bus. And another. Wonderful friends, they drove us home!

This leads to why I was standing on my neighbour’s porch at 9pm.

My house keys are on my keychain. Which I’d left in the ignition of my car. In a closed garage.

No, the neighbours didn’t have a key. They did have a flashlight, and offered to accompany me in a search of the shed in case we had a key hidden in there, but … I knew for almost certain that they key that had lived in there was now the one on my keychain. In the car. In the garage.  To top it off, the neighbours had had recent, close encounters with a skunk lurking around and weren’t so keen on nosing around in backyards so late.

They, such kind people, immediately welcomed me and Cameron into their home and poured me a glass of wine. Their ten year old son was still up, having a much later bedtime than Cameron, and the kids played together beautifully.

I have to say that I’m a little glad that I left my keys in the car. I got to know our neighbours.

There was still a flurry of wrapping paper, tissue paper, cards and gift bags to come once we got home again. It seems to be the way that things are done now, presents don’t get unwrapped at the party itself. When you’re paying big bucks for a couple of hours of fun for the kids, there’s just not enough time for everything. Still feels weird. Oh well.

It was a big day for Kate too, who was also teary and exhausted by the end of it.

So we toned things down for the remainder of the evening, and did something we hadn’t done in a long time.

A jumbled heap of happy family on the couch, curled up in warm blankets, arms around each other. Buttered popcorn in bowls. Movie night – we watched some of Spirited Away.

Which is a very odd movie.

It was like a scene from my Perfect Day.

This weekend the kids were told to bring something to play with so I wouldn’t have to play referee all game, and warm clothes, and I packed some colouring stuff.  The kids were thrilled to see that there was another kid to play with, a little guy they’ve seen a few times as his dad and uncle are on Leif’s team too. He’s got red hair and freckles (which thrills Kate), and he’s around Cameron’s age, so he’s happy too.

The Storm, Leif’s team, had no need of assistance from cheerleaders. They rocked all on their own. The other team had a few players who played dirty, at least one who was good at sneaking around the net to score a couple of goals that way, but over all the Storm was the better team by far.

But we discovered a Secret Weapon.

Go Storm, Go! Go Storm, Go! Go Storm, Go!

He tried a variation for a bit.

Go awesome Storm go, go Storm, go! Go awesome Storm go, go Storm, go! Go awesome Storm go, go Storm, go!

It had a bit of a catchy rhythm to it, but it was a little too complex I think for a group of kids to be shouting in unison.

Normally I do not allow Cameron to chant around me. Seriously, five repetitions of the same word or phrase is quite enough, thank you. Cheering? That’s another matter.  All the kids were at it, but Cameron was the leader. And he’s probably the loudest. And the most persistent. With just the right piercing, carrying tone that the guys on the ice could hear him quite clearly I’m told … on and on and on and on.

I’m thinking this will drive opposing teams absolutely bonkers. Like exploding heads bonkers.

Next game I’m bringing ear plugs.

Cameron’s still having troubles listening to the middles of long words apparently. I’d just told him that when he grows up he can be a vegetarian if he wishes, I’ll even help him, but for now, he’s got to eat meat if it’s served for dinner. We were sitting at a table on New Year’s Eve after a day of skiing, and it turned out that there were a few vegetarians there too, so I directed his question out to them. They wisely hedged around the idea of some people not wanting to eat animals because it’s not nice to the animals, but Mama waded right on in. Cameron agreed fully, it’s cruel to eat animals.

He’d found his people.  Veterinarians. I’m gonna be one when I grow up.

No Cameron. Vegetarians.

Last night we had steak. Cameron wasn’t so thrilled to (re)learn that it comes from cows.  He chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed … and chewed. It wasn’t a very tender cut. Oh well – darn, I got to eat most of his share. But this brought up again the idea of being a vegetarian. He does NOT like meat.

So tonight we got all adventurous in the dinner department. Not hard-core vegetarian as we had dairy, but still, no meat.

Falafel.

I was debating not mentioning the whole no-meat thing, concerned that Cameron and Kate might turn up noses at something new. But then there’s the vegetarian thing. So I mentioned it when he asked me what was for dinner. You’ll like this, Cameron. It looks like meatballs, but it’s not. No meat at all. It’s a vegetarian dinner.  He perked right up. I’d caught his attention. Kate looked really skeptical when she saw dinner, and I explained that it’s sort of like burritos (always a hit), but from a different part of the world, and not meat.

Both kids gobbled it up. Kate wasn’t keen on the falafel part, and said it was too spicy (it did have a bit of spice to it), but the fact that it was vegetarian was enough to get Cameron to overlook the spice.

Now I wonder if the idea of tofu being vegetarian might get him to get past his dislike of stir fry.

Can’t wait until tomorrow when he tells his teacher that he ate a veterinarian dinner.

So, I’ve been feeling sorry for myself and grumpy.

Schlepping all over the city by bus the week it decides to snow, back with stinking people, rude people, grouchy bus drivers…

Ohbutwait.

There was the woman who sat next to me on the sky train. It took a moment. Then I recognized the scent tickling at the back of my memory. Shalimar. My grandma’s scent. Suddenly I was six, sitting on the end of her bed, watching her pouffe her face with powder, and spritz herself with perfume. I couldn’t help but relax a bit, and smile, enjoying the memory.

After stopping at the chiropractor’s office on Wednesday (did I mention this? He’s done far more for my neck than acupuncture and massage therapy did that’s for sure!) I went grocery shopping. Leif was picking up Cameron, so I was up for groceries. We didn’t need much – milk, yogurt, stuff for beef stroganoff for dinner. I got onto the crowded bus, and with a swoosh and a thump, the handles of the cheap plastic bag I’d used (forgot my fabric ones, don’t yell at me) stretched and broke. I gathered everything up, and held it together with the broken straps. Next to me, on the bench, two women shared smiles. It’s the grocery store’s fault, one said. They should make their bags better, after all, they’re charging for them now! The other joined in. I laughed, and shrugged. Nah, it was my own fault. I’ve got so much stuffed in here it was bound to break, but I took the chance to try to keep it at one bag. The second woman offered me her seat, smiling at me. Don’t worry, she said, I’m off at the next stop. I thanked her, and sat down, balancing the clutched-together bag on my knees. Knees that were soon to be soaked with leaking milk, but oh well. I chatted with the woman next to me, saying, I’ve got two kids at home, six and almost-eight. I have to make myself take responsibility for my own mistakes, to set an example. She laughed, nodding. I know! I’ve got two boys, and it’s the same. Only they’re forty three and forty seven. It never changes. I thanked her as she got off the bus, and told her that she’d given me a great gift – laughter.

Oh, and then there was the bus driver. Young guy, the sort that greets everyone with a smile. Oh hi, he said, grinning as I got on. He looked familiar. How’s your son? Cameron? He held out his hand to roughly the right height. Turned out he remembered us from last summer, when Cameron often rode the bus with me, on his way to summer camp.

Now. Where was I? Oh yeah. Grouching. About my commute.

So today I hadn’t been at work long, and had a list as long as my arm of things I had to accomplish, when I got the call. Hi, I’m calling about Cameron. I’ve got him here in the office, and he’s not feeling very good. He should really go home. All afternoon it was pretty clear that he wasn’t ill at all. I was a little grumbly about it, but he was in such a good mood for the most part, how could I be mad? At dinner I asked him about today, and suggested that if he was sick again on Monday we might have to visit Dr. H. And he might need a shot for whatever is making him sick. His eyes got wide, but he said, So long as it’s Dr.H. He does them fast. Wow, I thought. Maybe he is sick. Testing, I tried, Maybe he’ll need blood work. Cameron’s eyes bugged out. Uh. Mama? You know I’m not really sick, right? I tried to not laugh. Yeah, kid. So, want to tell me what today was about?

He paused a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts.

I just missed you Mama. I wanted to be with you. All morning long, I wanted to be with you. I didn’t want to go out for recess, I didn’t want to play, I just wanted to be with you.

I have ever so many things to be happy about. Small things. Big things. Cameron, Leif, Kate, my whole family, chance encounters with total strangers.

I can’t remember if I posted about this or not, but here’s some news. Recall my rant about riding on the bus? Right. I have a car now. It’s actually Leif’s brother’s and his wife’s, but they’re back in Australia so they’ve lent it to me. Excellent! It’s a 96 Saturn Ion.  I know very little about cars. I’ve never owned one before. So I put off getting the oil changed, and put it off and put it off (me? Procrastinate? Surely you je… ooh, later, I’ll be back…)

Jest. Surely, you jest.

But that’s not the point of today’s post.

I eventually (a week or so ago) got the car in. Ohmy. It needed an oil change, transmission fluid change, fuel line needed cleaning, some other fluid needed changing, a windshield wiper was shredded to nothing and needed to be replaced. Almost five hundred bucks later, they tell me that this whoosamawhatsit gauge thingy needs replacing. For another $150. But I could do without it … as long as it didn’t get really cold. I’m from back east. It just doesn’t GET really cold here by my definition. So I let it go. I’ve got a huge credit card debt to pay off, I didn’t need to be paying interest on something that wasn’t necessary.

Seems they meant by Vancouver temperature range. Because it got down to something like -10C last night.

And this morning the car wouldn’t start.

It’d sometimes turn over but not – forgive me here, but I don’t know the terminology – catch. Mostly it just whrrrred softly. Crap. I tried doing it quickly. I tried giving gas. No gas. Ten minute wait, try again, pump the gas twice quickly before starting. Cameron tried a magic spell. Nothing worked.

It’s okay honey, the car doesn’t run on magic, so I guess your spell didn’t work.

I don’t really have magic, you know, Mommy.

…

…

I know. Of course you don’t. Nobody does.

But I bet if Santa Claus was here, and if the car did run on magic, then he could start the car.

So we set off to walk to the bus stop. Now, I have to back track a little. We’d run out of milk, even the powdered stuff I use(d) in yogurt. We’d run out of yogurt. Those are pretty much necessary for breakfasts around here, which are usually oatmeal with fruit and yogurt or milk, or fruit, milk, and yogurt smoothies. So I’d told Cameron we could stop for breakfast on the way to school. Now, we were walking to the bus because my car was broken because I hadn’t done something I should’ve done, hungry because we’d run out of breakfast essentials. But wait, there’s more! When we went skiing in Kamloops over New Year’s, we left Cameron’s snow jacket up there. And he’d left his snow boots at school last night, accidentally coming home in his school shoes. So, we were walking to the bus because I’d not done something with the car that I should’ve, hungry because we’d run out of breakfast essentials, my son was wearing runners on his feet, and instead of a coat he had two fleeces, a spring jacket, and a puffy vest. Yes, he had a warm hat and mitts at least. Did I mention it was well below freezing? And snowing?

I’m running for mom of the year here.

Between all of the car troubles, the length of time it took to get there by bus, and stopping for breakfast on the way, I dropped Cameron off at his school an hour late. Instead of at his before-school care somewhat early. I left, feeling stressed, and headed for work … well over an hour by bus and skytrain away.

It was an adventure. I got to spend some great time with my son. We’ll laugh about the lack of coat and boots.

Oh. I picked up milk and yogurt (and other essentials) on my way home. Leif’s sister brought Cameron’s jacket back to town, he’ll pick it up tonight. And Cameron remembered to wear his boots home. YEAH!

But tonight I’m going to write about something much more … white. Less dark. Like, white and fluffy and cold.

Right! Kate got her wish! Okay, not the full-blown forts with flags and banners flying in the wind while she and her dad wage icy war against me and Cameron. But it was close enough for lots of giggles and glee.

We got an unexpected dumping of snow, a day before the weather folks said it’d arrive. My usage of the word dump here is the Vancouver version – we had a few centimeters of white stuff on the ground. Better yet, it was wet and soggy! Cameron and I tossed a few snowballs at each other as we bustled around busily in the morning. getting him to kickboxing, picking up goodies to go in birthday treat bags (yes, more on that later, my boy is six!), and swim lesson time too. We got home to find Leif and Kate outside in the snow, and a mostly-done snowman in the front yard. Kate had lost interest in doing the work of the snowman making, but Cameron helped roll the head and put it on. A smile, eyes, and a carrot nose, branches for arms, and eventually a scarf I never wear any more, and ‘Snowy’ was complete.

Then it was to the back yard for a snowball fight!

The kids heard on the morning weather forecast that it’s supposed to snow this weekend. They filled the car with dreams of snow forts, ice shields, flags flying, snowballs flying, as we drove to their before-school care. Cameron reminisced about playing swords with icicles nearly as big as he was … two years ago. “I’ve never in my life had a snowball fight,” Kate wistfully mentioned.

That’s life in Vancouver for kids. Around three years ago we did have a big winter, with plenty of snow on the ground. Cameron and my dad made a snowman. But it’s rare here. We just don’t get the snow that other cities get, not usually. Nothing like what I remember as a kid, growing up in Ottawa.

I suspect that Kate’s dreams of a family snowball fight, complete with forts and all, will melt away into disappointment. I doubt we’ll get that much snow. But maybe there’ll be enough for a few snowballs to sling around.

No, wait. I refuse. I don’t have time to be feeling under the weather for that long. I have something else. That’s right. Something. Else.

My head is a block of concrete. I ache all over – you would too if you were lugging around a head full of concrete.

I haven’t got an original thought in my head to write about – or rather, I have ideas, but just can’t get it to be coherent. Or interesting. I blame the concrete.

And I’m being sent to bed early.

The one with the whale skeleton, Mama? Can we go in? Can we see it? Please?

I’d heard from other sciency parents that this was the best museum to take kids to. That it’s exciting, they love it, they learn so much! And certainly the lovely woman at the admissions desk knew her stuff with kids, she knew just how to talk to them.  In a few moments she had Cameron answering his own questions (he does that a lot, asks ‘how come’ when he knows the answer), and then had him excited about a scavenger hunt.  Follow the hints to collect letters (and, incidentally, learn stuff), and then unscramble them to make two words. So excited that he barely batted an eyelash at the enormous skeleton hanging overhead as we descended to the museum level.

By the end of the Atrium entranceway, Cameron had learned about how baleen whales eat, with a jar of krill, a chunk of baleen, and a reminder about what a strainer does. A little humour involving miming spitting helped. And he learned about migration – how far some creatures migrate, why, and when. Will he remember that the harp seals migrate from the high arctic to the pack ice of the maritimes to rear their young? No, probably not.  But he will remember the basic idea of migration, with the help of specimens of animals, a magnet board map with yarn migration routes on it, and a matching game.  At both of those displays Cameron was interested enough to ask questions that showed he was listening. Yay! Oh, and with that exercise came his first success – a letter for the scavenger hunt!

Ohdear, I thought, as we left the Atrium for the main exhibits.  Stark black walls.  Hallway after narrow hallway of collections. Nothing ‘kiddie’. Small printing, displays of creatures preserved in various ways, half the displays were too high up for Cameron to see, were my friends just imagining that their kids enjoyed this? I imagined leaving with one upset, bored, fussy kid.

I was so wrong.

Cameron was amazed and entranced. He looked at everything. Between rows of displays there were more in the floor, so that even small kids could sit and gaze at animals, shells, fossils, plants. Counter-height displays were in many of the long hallways, each looking like one of those “look and find” book pages. Magnifying glasses drew Cameron’s interest, and he exclaimed, look, a bug! Mama, what’s this? What’s coral? All the way through.  Halfway through, we discovered that (much like the nearby Museum of Anthropology) drawers in these cabinets could be opened. So many things to discover! What’s in that one? Mama, tell me about evolution? Mama, this says Red Panda, it’s a panda skull!

The scavenger hunt was cleverly designed to draw people through the exhibit, one letter per major organization area. Each had a little nugget of information to learn about how the animals or plants or fungus had adapted to its environment.

At the back of the museum was first the family area, which looked just wonderful. By this point we were running out of time, so I didn’t get a good look, but I did see lots of activities, playful seating for kids, comfortable seating for grownups. There was a craft area, with a helpful and kind young woman who sent Cameron home with all he needed to do the craft.

Lastly was the jaw-dropping part. As a biologist myself, I got excited. Cameron’s eyes just about dropped out of his head. The Discovery Lab had preserved animals, bones, microscopes, wasp nests, all sorts of things for hands-on discovery. Cameron got to hold a bear’s skull, exciting for him especially as his kindergarten class is doing a unit on bears this month. A wonderful young woman showed us through this area, and I’m so thankful, as it was really time for the museum to close by this point. She talked with Cameron about hibernation, and how different animals do it – bears, marmots (I think it was), and bats, with examples right there in front of him. She showed him the wasp nest, and told him about how they’re made. By this point he was hitting overload, but still was enthusiastic.

He did a marvelous job of finding all the letters in the scavenger hunt – but unscrambling them was a little more challenging for him. Hard to do when you can barely read. So I helped.

We’ll go back, I’m sure. Hopefully with Kate too, and hopefully with more than just an hour and a half to spend there!

If you go, don’t be intimidated. There’s not a lot of explanation along with the displays, but don’t worry. The kids, and maybe you too, will be amazed by the incredible diversity of life. There are also lots of employees (or volunteers?) scattered throughout, who you can ask for explanation. Everyone we spoke with was kind and helpful. If you or the kids hit overload, call it ‘enough’, and head to the Diversity Lab at the back for some hands-on exploration, or take a break at the Niche cafe (which has the best name I’ve ever heard of for a coffee place).