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In the meantime:

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Wanton Jezebel

New bathing suit arrived today. Full coverage skort bottom, bikini top.
Modelling it for McKay and Dan.

M says, "Mom, lean over...here...pull this up to cover your boobs."

Juggling toads...

We're at an impasse now as far as our move is concerned.

There are so many conflicting pieces of data that we are juggling and trying to remember. I'm envious of the days where you just put your chicken and bag in a wheelbarrow and headed off to the "new world".

• 1. I can't work in the US after August 15th, but don't have a job yet in Canada.

• 2. Dan can't work yet in Canada, but has a job that he HAS to start by August 1st.

• 3. We're listing our house on June 5th. Since we might not have heard from the Canadian Govt by then, this is a tad worrying. What if we sell? What if we DONT sell?

• 4. Haven't told M's school yet about a potential move...and haven't been talking with him about it too much...but I want to start. We did get into daycare in Vancouver (and a very goodone) for July 1st. I'm hoping they'll be nice enough to let us push it back month by month if need be without charging tuition.

• 5. Housing in Vancouver is going to be fun. We have decided to rent for the first year/6months or so until we see what is happening to the market. There's so much talk of the bubble getting ready to burst, and we don't want to get tangled up in that. So, we're looking for housing, with pets and a toddler for a tentative start day of July to September of so. Needless to say, not much luck yet.
  

Not MardiGras

Almost a year later, and the tragedy of what happened in NewOrleans, and the goodness of humanity that was revealed because of it (not to mention the incompetence of the bureaucracy) is still emerging.

This month's journal of Pediatrics has a heartrending and tear-dabbing story of the evacuation of neonates from one of the hospitals.

Why we're moving.

Our neighbourhood grade school where McKay would start Jr. K next year. Reads the same on both sides of the sign. Thanks to Dan for the tip.

Does this taste funny to you?

Last night we were just sitting down to dinner. McKay was waiting for his plate and took a swig of milk. He started coughing and snorting and sputtering a bit. Down the wrong tube I thought to myself.

5 minutes into dinner, another swig of milk. His face puckered a bit as he swallowed then pushed his glass towards me. "Taste this Mom, there's something in my milk."

1. WHY did I feel the need to taste it?
2. What is it in human nature that made him want to share that experience with me?

As I was spitting and rinsing I remembered waking up Saturday morning to the fridge door partially open. The fridge door that we keep the milk in.