Bar Harbour it is!!

It’s booked! Two nights at the Bar Harbour KOA in a lovely little cabin with an ‘ocean view’. Check out the inside and outside virtual tours! I am really loving this cottage camping idea, can you tell?

Beloved is quite excited about the whale watching and puffin sighting tours. Puffins! And one of the reviews I read of the KOA said if you’re lucky, you’ll see the seals frolicking on the private beach at the campground. Seals! Puffins! Ocean views!

So I still know very little about Bar Harbour, but I know enough to bet on it as a great family trip. And I’ve still got three months to do some research.

Bar Harbour, here we come!

Am I nuts to spend eighteen hours in a week in the car with my kids?

Family vacations. Are they not two of the most laden words in the English language? So much joy, so much stress, so much fodder for the boys’ future therapists.

The window for successful family vacations is really rather small. For the first couple of years, it’s too hard to travel because of the pack’n’play and the stroller and the several pounds of receiving blankets. And yet we’re probably not very far from the days that they don’t want to be seen in public with us. So we’ll make the most of these prime years to torture the boys build happy family memories.

Last year, we had great fun with our Quebec City adventure. I’ve been idly considering for a few months now on what we could do that would be similar to that: within a day or so drive, engaging enough for a stay of two or three days, and with something interesting to do on the way home. And not Toronto, or London, or Windsor. I spent way too much of my free time on the 401 over the past 20 years, and that’s my only caveat. No southern Ontario. Not this time.

And then, out of the blue, I had an epiphany. Or maybe it was gas. But regardless of whether it was the chili dog repeating or a moment of genuine insight, I suddenly decided I wanted to go to Maine. Bar Harbour Maine, in fact.

Why Maine? I’ve always wanted to go there. I’ve been reading Stephen King since I was nine years old. I’m fascinated with the idea of Maine, and I’ve heard of Bar Harbour, and that was enough to get me started.

So I google mapped it, and while it’s not as far away as Alert, it’s not exactly close. It’s a straight line, which is strikes me as a good start. It’s a nine hour drive, which is a lot for one day with three and five year olds in the car, but I don’t mind breaking it into two days.

Sherbrooke Quebec is about half way, and the Granby Zoo is not too far from there. So we could do Ottawa to Sherbrooke one day (maybe even with another pit stop to see our favourite Montreal people?), then on to Bar Harbour the next day. Stay there for two days, and then back the way we came. Hey, that sounds like a plan. That could work!

So, Maine. Any thoughts? I have to admit, I’m mildly intimidated that the map shows a whole lot of nothing between Sherbrooke and Bar Harbour. And since everything I know about Maine I read in Stephen King books, I really have no idea what the geography is, except for lots of forests where Bad Things happen. Does one have to spend an inordinate amount of time driving through miles of said forests, or is it more like upstate New York where there are gorgeous little towns everywhere?

The only *other* thing I know about Maine is that it has great outlet stores. If you draw a straight line from Ottawa to Bar Harbour, how far off that line do you have to travel to get to the outlet stores? And to a Target? I’ve never been to a Target. It’s on my lifetime “to do” list.

I’m not 100% sold on Maine yet, either. Nor on Bar Harbour in particular, since I just kind of pulled the idea out of thin air. Got any other good ideas for family vacations somewhere within an eight to ten hour drive of Ottawa? Lake Placid was another idle thought. Not as cool as Maine, but a little bit closer.

Tell me, bloggy friends. What should we do for our summer vacation?

In which I dump the contents of my inbox into your lap

I have so many little mental post-it notes stuck to my forehead that I can’t see through them anymore. I’ve got to get some of this stuff out, coherent post be damned.

Do you like free? I like free. Do you like camping? I like camping somewhat less than I like free, but even stuff that I don’t ordinarily like, I am magnanimous enough to like if it’s, well, free. So I’m all over KOA’s annual free camping weekend. Pay for a site, or one of their funky little cabins, on Friday May 11 and stay for free on Saturday May 12. This will be our third year (see previous adventures here and here) and like last year, our ‘camping’ will consist of cramming the entire extended family (six adults, four kids under six) into a perfect little cottage at the Ivy Lea KOA campground near Gananoque. I can’t wait!

***

Camping not your thing? Prefer culture to campfire? How about a live performance of the Barber of Seville, direct from the Metropolitan Opera House, broadcast directly to a local movie theatre in high definition? I love this idea, and wish the boys were old enough to enjoy or at least appreciate it. It’s happening this Saturday in select theatres. I wish I could go!

***

I thought this was way wicked cool. Michelle at Scribbit created a custom search engine for mom blogs. I liked the idea so much, I added it to the sidebar. Scroll down (waaaay down, gosh that sidebar is taking on a life of its own!) to give it a try. Michelle has added more than 1500 mom blogs, so you can do a custom mom-blog search on whatever tickles your fancy.

Blogger ingenuity at work to make your world a better place! (And I’m happy to sponge off it, for the price of a link!)

***

And now for the laundry list of other things. (That’s a funny phrase, isn’t it? I mean, who makes a list to do the laundry? Lord knows I need a list to keep track of just about everything else in my life – you thought I was kidding about the post-it note reference above? – but I’ve never been compelled to make a list to separate my whites from my colours.)

Man, I get some weird shit in my in-box. Lots of people want me to tell you about their stuff. I am ashamed to admit, I simply ignore most of them. It seems terribly rude, and makes me feel ungrateful, because I know it’s nice people like you who made this blog a place worth of solicitation. So I’ve decided that every so often I’ll just dump all the stuff I get into a single post and I can stop feeling guilty about it. (I kind of got this idea from Paul Wells, who said he posts every 100th news release he gets, in its entirety.)

So in this post that is dying for any sort of a segue and more or less in their own words, I give you:

The Tutorlinker: “We use Google Map API to search and point tutors. Parents/students can simply type their address to search and compare tutors in their area and there is no registration. Tutors can go through simple registration step to be listed.”

Centre for Disease Control’s Mom2Mom: “CDC’s new website has a lot to offer, and I want to make sure that the word gets out. So if you have the time and the inclination, check out the site share your advice – you can even share your past blog posts on the message board – and engage with other moms.”

The Starter Wife: “After being blacklisted from premieres to pilates, Molly Kagan (Debra Messing) searches to rediscover life after divorce. A brief respite in Malibu and some oh-so-Hollywood friends prove to be the perfect cocktail for her transformation from “Starter Wife” to her new life. Based on Gigi Levangie Grazer’s New York Times best seller of the same name, The Starter Wife also stars Judy Davis, Joe Mantegna, Miranda Otto & Anika Noni Rose. I am working with USA network to help raise awareness for a promotion that they are running for The Starter Wife in conjunction with Ponds. Their contest, “40’s and Fabulous” is an essay contest looking for stories from real women about why your beauty and confidence now makes you happier and more comfortable in your 40s than you were in your 30s or 20s. To enter, all you have to do is visit the official site. Five winners will be showcased in their own USA commercial — and win an all expense paid weekend of pampering in Hollywood, including a fashion/beauty makeover and tickets to The Starter Wife premiere!”

(Full disclosure: the end of this e-mail offered a Ponds gift pack in exchange for posting something about this. I am *not* accepting anything in exchange for this link, just adding it to the pile in case it’s something one of you might be interested in. Me, I had a hard time reading right to the end, what with my eyeballs rolling back in my head like that. But hey, to each her own. And hey, if you do enter the contest and you do win, you’re morally obligated to bring me with you to the pampering and premiere weekend, right? I mean, I’m all ethical and shit, and I’m mocking the whole concept with my usual subtle finesse, but Hollywood pampering and premieres? I’m all over that!)

Edited to add: Rats, I forgot one! I wanted to tell you that Scattered Mom from Notes from the Cookie Jar is hosting a cross-border candy swap. Since Beloved was so excited to get a package of candy from the States during the last candy swap, I think I’m maritally obligated to sign up for this one. You only have until March 25 (this Sunday) to sign up!

Real moms

Chantal at Breadcrumbs in the Butter (one of the funniest moms I know) tagged me for this meme on real moms. The idea is to use the phrase “real moms” as a writing prompt. I loved what she wrote, and had a hard time deciding where I wanted to go with this one.

Real moms laugh. A lot.
Real moms work outside the home.
Real moms breastfeed exclusively.
Real moms always put the needs of their family first.
Real moms hire cleaning ladies.
Real moms let their babies cry it out.
Real moms use cloth diapers.
Real moms believe in circumcision.
Real moms choose public schools.
Real moms trust the experts.
Real moms feed their kids only home-made, organic, preservative-free food.
Real moms go to church.
Real moms believe spanking is child abuse.
Real moms believe in the family bed.
Real moms think a child belongs in his/her own bed.
Real moms believe in corporal punishment.
Real moms are athiests.
Real moms consider opening a can of spaghettios making dinner.
Real moms trust their instincts.
Real moms choose private schools.
Real moms are horrified by circumcision.
Real moms use disposable diapers.
Real moms would never dream of letting their babies cry it out.
Real moms love to clean the house.
Real moms aren’t afraid to put themselves first sometimes.
Real moms bottle feed exclusively.
Real moms stay at home with their kids.
Real moms cry. A lot.

Real moms love their kids.

Now I’m supposed to tag five other people. Hmm, okay, I’d like to see what TwinMom, Nancy, Alison, Bub and Pie and Miche have to say.

I can’t believe I’m writing a post about urinals

I like to think I know from boys. Growing up, I spent a lot more time hanging out with boys than with girls, espeically in those teen years when gender differences become prevalent. Then I married not one but two guys (although not at the same time), and of course I contributed to the world’s male population with two sons of my own.

Being the primary caregiver for two sets of male apparatus has been enlightening. For example, I didn’t know before I had boys of my own that the fly in underwear is purely for decoration and not for utility. I had no idea that you have to take care in pointing a baby boy’s bits in just the right direction when closing up a diaper or risk leakage. And I had no idea the extent to which those bits extended beyond plumbing and procreation to the realm of imaginary friend and playmate.

Being surrounded as I am by the XY chromosome, I was interested to read this article in the weekend Citizen about the new trend toward home urinals. Yes, you read it here first. That article was interesting enough in itself, but what truly fascinated me was the final paragraph.

Perhaps the real appeal of having a urinal at home is that it offers a taste of the sort of freedom men can experience in only a natural or rural setting. As one designer admitted, off the record, rather than a urinal at home, what men really want is a bathroom door that leads directly to a patch of lawn and a strategically placed tree.

I had no idea that the ability to pee outside was anything more than a convenient option. It’s actually a preference?

Clearly, I still have a lot to learn.

A Just Post Award

Just a quick post to say a very belated thanks to Mad Hatter and Jen at One Plus Two were kind enough to award me one of February’s Just Post Awards for my Code Blue for Daycare rant.

I’m absurdly pleased by this. And be warned, I’m also encouraged. Just this morning, I choked on reading in the Citizen that Stephen Harper was quoted as telling party supporters this weekend, “We must always think first of the unspoken interests of millions of working families.”

It’s a lovely platitude, but Harper’s policies have been anything but working-family friendly. First, the universal child care benefit, which is neither universal nor child care. Now, rustlings in the wind that they are considering income splitting for families. I could go on, but I don’t want to sully this proud moment with another rant.

Instead, just a simple thank you to Mad Hatter and Jen and all the people who participate in the Just Post movement every month. Get on over to their blogs and take a look at some of the excellent posts from this month alone. It will do you good.

Random blog silliness

I know, I still owe you a post for Tristan’s birthday. It’s okay, as long as I get it in before he’s old enough to read, I’m good.

In the meanwhile, in lieu of anything particularly thought provoking or time consuming, I thought I’d steal this idea from Mama Tulip. Four of these five statements are true; one is a fib. Can you tell my fact from fiction? (Those of you who know me well likely know the truth – if you do, don’t tell!)

1.) In a fit of defiance and independence, I had my belly button pierced despite my ex-husband’s opinion that I should not get it done. It became horrendously infected and I had to take it out after less than a month. I still have the scar.

2.) While traveling solo through Europe, on a train from Munich to Salzburg I was propositioned by a man who told me he had just been released from prison. He was escorted off the train because his ‘ticket’ was hand-written on a cocktail napkin.

3.) Beloved and I met in a bar. He was in the Fine Arts program at the University of Westen Ontario at the time. The night we met, he invited me back to his apartment to “see his drawings”. I said yes, and we’ve been together ever since.

4.) We were visiting my in-laws one summer weekend for the first time. My mother-in-law had just baked two lemon meringue pies for a charity auction and had left them on a shelf in her utility room to cool. We went out for dinner and in our absence, my exhuberant puppy-brained dog licked exactly half the meringue off each of the two pies, leaving the yellow lemon base. I walked into the utility room and froze when I saw the half-demeringued pies, and contemplated for a long minute simply packing the dog into the car and returning home without a word, never to return.

5.) Our long and convoluted fertility and IVF stories, from the first miscarriage in 2000 through the IUIs, the IVF, Tristan’s birth, Simon’s surprise arrival, our Frostie adventure and even the miscarriage last November will be featured in a story in the May issue of Chatelaine magazine.

I’m a terrible liar in person – can I pull it off on the blog? Which one is a fib?

Edited to add: only one day remains in the Great Canadian Rimroller Contest! Enter today!

A Message from the Department of Commerce

If you’ve been around for a while, you’ll remember the wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth over the whole issue of ads on the blog. Not just anybody’s blog, mind you – you want to put ads on your blog, more power to you. Nope, I was just angsting about ads on my blog.

I started toying with the idea of ads back in September of last year. Then I got caught up in one of those blogstorms that swirl through the blogosphere every now and then and changed my mind, and I said all kinds of lofty, idealistic things like I didn’t want to sell our stories.

Apparently, I just hadn’t been offered the right price. Silly me, I should know everything is for sale.

So yes, there are now ads on the blog. The seller approached me out of the blue and simply made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Aside from the money, I liked the offer because it was simple, straightforward, and completely in my control. The ads are text only, I am free to place them wherever I want, and there is no contract to sign. While I won’t tell you what I earn from them, I will tell you that it’s a decent amount, not based on click-throughs or page impressions. In fact, I’m highly impressed with the company and the respect they showed me.

By contrast, and not to slag anyone in particular, but one of the things that I didn’t like about the other offer I was entertaining back in September, from the Blogher ad network, was that they stipulated that the ad must appear ‘above the fold’. Plus, they were honkin’ big ads with pictures, and you never knew exactly what you would be advertising.

The thing that bugged me the most about the whole blog ads thing was not even the advertising itself, but the predatorial (is that a word?) way advertisers were taking advantage of bloggers – bloggers who might be selling themselves or their work short. And here I’ m not talking about the Blogher ad network at all, just the pittance that was being offered to most paid bloggers that really didn’t respect the work and effort and heart that goes into a successful blog.

To me, this deal was a fair wage with no ethical strings. (The words and link will never change, and it leads to a well-respected shopping comparison site called bizrate.com.) But I’ve promised to always be up front, and so I wanted to let you know that there’s been a policy shift and I’m now on the advertising gravy train.

After all, someone’s gotta start saving for Tristan and Simon’s bail college fund.

Pressure

This working and mothering thing? Not so easy.

Okay, so most of the time, we achieve a reasonable balance. I admit, my job is easy on the family in that I work early hours, am home most days by 4:30, and almost never work overtime.

This week? Flaming exception. Between last Tuesday and yesterday, I put in more than 18 hours of overtime, including a marathon 12 hour stretch on Sunday.

There was a considerable amount of mommy-guilt on my part, being away from the family that much, but with a remarkably small amount of grumbling, Beloved picked up the slack. Dinners were made, nobody ran out of underwear, and while the cupboards are now stocked with Lucky Charms and Bear Paws and Oreos instead of, say, things we can actually eat for dinner and the house looks like warring tribes pitched a four-day battle in it, we made it through the worst of it. I’ve been loving the work I am doing, and really enjoying the challenge of crisis communications.

Yesterday, I had to drop everything on the backs of my colleagues because Tristan spiked a fever so bad we were doing the two-hour rotation of Motrin and Tylenol and I had to stay home with him.

His fever isn’t entirely better today, so Beloved and I played a round of “why my work is more important than your work.” In the end, I gave up and called the caregiver and asked her if Tristan could come, with the fever. She said of course, I hung up the phone and promptly burst into tears. This is the caregiver we are letting go. I’m afraid I’m making a mistake. I should be home with Tristan when he’s sick. I have a crapload of work to do today, and there’s no sign of it letting up for the next week at least, maybe two.

Did I mention my in-laws are on their way for a two-day visit and will arrive in time for dinner?

Edited to add: the caregiver called shortly after lunch, saying Tristan was crying and asking for me. Within 10 minutes, I was on my way, thanks in no small part to the help of my boss, who finds more ways to endear herself to me each day. By the time we got home an hour later, he was – of course – feeling better. The boys are currently watching Toy Story 2 and eating popcorn, calling each other Captain Underpants and Doctor Diaper.