Monday, November 19, 2012

Ho Ho Ho

 I LOVE Christmas. When I was a kid it was the best ever. My mom would throw a block party on Christmas Eve, the neighbors would come over, drink lots, eat lots; everything seemed so simple then. We would listen to the radio station that claimed to be spotting Santa and my dad would stand on the porch every year with his gun to pretend to shoot him out of the sky. Come to think of dad had a gun???
Knowing my mother she would definitely have everyone out at the latest midnight, get all tidied up in preparation for the morning. She would never get drunk, so she could be the best mom ever in the morning. We put out cookies and milk on our fire place and open our one Christmas Eve present from our Oma in Holland. It always came in a big box wrapped in butcher style paper. It would be filled with stroopwafels, handmade sweaters, chocolate initals in J, T, K, W. (My mom always ended up eating all the letters the following week). Then we were sent upstairs for bed. My mom and dad would spend the next few hours doing last minute wrapping and bringing all the presents downstairs to literally FILL the whole living room. It was unbelievable. We would wake up in the morning and my dad- EVERY-SINGLE year would say he has to go down and check if Santa came, as he didn't think he did this year, or the year before, or the year before that. Yet, he always came, nonetheless, we were not spoiled kids, but on Christmas we were, and bloody hell we deserved it. We were such good children my mom still says to this day. We would always take a break half way through opening, and NEVER would we open two at a time. We all took turns, Ty and I always had the same amount of gifts. My mom would make herself another cup of tea, my dad coffee, at break. After we were done opening we would try on all our clothes, listen to our new cd's, skim through our new books, my mom would start making eggs benny, and my dad would help put together anything technical that we received. Every year he got my mom a new perfume even though she HATES perfume. I remember always wanting her to like it, but knew she never did. She would by him a new pair of Levi's and white runner's. every.single.year.
I would get my dad a soap on the rope for his birthday, Father's day, and Christmas. I don't think he ever used them.
These memories are so amazing I'm almost in tears writing this. Even after my parents split it was the exact same, just no dad to shoot Santa and tell us that he maybe hadn't arrived...

Last year Luca and I were in Costa Rica for the Holidays. We left December 14th on purpose.  It was my first year as a solo mama, and I was on a mission to be in a different country than r.a.w. I wanted to pretend Christmas wasn't really Christmas. The thought of him asking for her made my stomach turn and the thought of him not asking for her made me rage. The thought of him spending it with his mistress made me want to throw myself out of a glass window. The only way, in my eyes,  to avoid all that was to leave the country for the winter.

Unfortunately, we cannot go to Central America every winter... I bummer!
I am forecasting the special day to be a little bit weepy for me, but it's only a day and next year I'm sure to be spending it as a three-some. Luca is so excited for Santa and all that Mastercard is bringing her, i'm excited for rum and eggnog, baking parties, and a Christmas tree. This time of the year is truly special.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012


My life is so funny slash weird. I just live day to day doing school work, making meals for Luca and I, playing play-doh and at least once a day I can usually be caught having a heart to heart convo with one or more people. It's usually about love and marriage. Or children. Or about how badly I want to marry Jef Holm. He is a previous bachelor from last season of the bachelorette, and to be honest I am not embarrassed by the fact that I am mildly obsessed with him. Yes, I do realize I don't "know" him...per say. But I do know that when I meet him our chances of marriage are pretty high. I already know that he is into hot moms so that's a big check off my list. I know he is a well dressed hipster, another big check, I also know that he provides clean water for children in Africa...UH HELLO!!!! BULLS EYE!
The vision that I see happening is: Jef and his hot co-workers coming to Vancouver on some sort of volunteering trip, they pop into Chill Winston on a Monday night (my new night to work), sit in my section, I'm running around like a crazy person because I am so busy, I turn quickly from the bar to serve a tray full of drinks and bash right into him. I look up and oh my god its fucking Jef Holm. He looks right through my soul and says, "Holy shit, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life." I say... well I say nothing, I am speechless. The rest is history, we move to middle America, he pays for my nursing school and the three of us live happily ever after.
I know this sounds psychotic. Trust me. I know.

Today I was visiting besty while he was getting his hair done. I was having chats, I looked over at one of the sinks I saw one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen. He was a half blind version of Ryan Gosling. I'm not out much with out Luca in tow so these are the kind of opportunities I need to grasp. He was for sure straight because his shoes were horrendous. I was too much of a chicken to even look at him in the eye, so I got a stylist that I know to give him my number after I had left the scene. I'm never going to get anywhere if I don't stop being so scared. When these situations arise I literally turn into a different person, I can't see straight, I start sweating profusely and the last thing I am able to do is give someone my number or better yet ask them out. What is wrong with me?!?!?!? Should I try an online dating site until I meet Jef? What if I don't meet him for another 5 years? I'll be so lonely till then.

It has been insanely rainy in Vancouver, last weekend Luca and I stayed in for 3 days straight. By the time Monday rolled around I was more than ready to go to class, and so was Luca. Her "fwend"  bit her yesterday on the arm, she will not stop talking about it. Mostly she keeps telling me how much they kissed and hugged after it happened. So presh. God I love that girl.
*Joe Freshs' sweater collection is out of control right now!

Monday, November 5, 2012

Mo money mo problems?

I lived a life of financial freedom until the day I found out I was pregnant. Working in the service industry, not only did I always have cash in my pocket, I  had a hefty savings account too. I have always been good with my money, besides my obsession with buying clothes, shoes, and lattes; I never have spent much of my money. I was always saving for my next trip. In the service industry you can make as much or as little money as you wish. At one point I was working a sales and marketing job during the day, and slangin tequila come nightfall. The money was rollin in. I had just met r.a.w. at that point of my life so things were smooth sailing. Fresh love and a butt load of cash. Things quickly changed when we found out I was plus one in my belly. All the money we had saved to go traveling was now going towards a stroller, car seat, diapers...all grown up, real life stuff.

R.a.w's life was and still is dictated by finances. It seems like the only thing that matters to him is money. Instant gratification is the name of his game. Bartending. Poker playing.
Delayed gratification is the name of mine.

"Deferred gratification, or delayed gratification, is the ability to resist the temptation for an immediate reward and wait for a later reward. Generally, delayed gratification is associated with resisting a smaller but more immediate reward in order to receive a larger or more enduring reward later."

I have a few friends that have money, but most of us don't. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel like most of us poor folk enjoy the small things much more than the rich. I realize that a latte truly isn't something a poor person should be buying, but if its any consolation every single sip I appreciate so much. I don't leave a drop, and the heavenly JJ bean taste lingers in my mouth most of the day. I would love nothing more than to have a new Range Rover. One of my dreams is to click my remote control key to turn on my rover on a cold cold vancouver morning let er warm up, slip on my louboutin's, head out the door, drop Luca at Montessori and swing by my 'job' volunteering at the local hospital. Would I be happy? Or would I miss the struggle?  Somehow I get off on making a meal for under $3, and the fact my house is one of the coziest I know and nothing I own wasn't donated or bought at a thrift store. My single mommy friend (who also has pennies in her bank account) and I always sit in class joking about how we ate air for lunch. mmmmmm....air.

All that being said, obviously I am going to school so I can have a better life for Luca and I. So I can buy everything organic and something other than 1.5 liters of copper moon for my red wine fix. Someday I will own a house and a land rover and be able to choose to send Luca to private school if I wish. 
From experience-do you think mo money equals mo problemos?

Is it all about the benjamins baby?