Does Your Soul Dance?

Pop, Country, Heavy Metal, Punk. If you're breathing and have a pulse, chances are there's a type of music that has you nodding your head, and tapping your toes whenever you hear it. A good beat, some fun lyrics, and the next thing you know, you’ve got your own private dance party.

Or, if your childhood was anything like mine, a dance party in the kitchen during after dinner dishes. Seriously, the best party in town, just ask my siblings!

Music plays a vital role in the human experience. It connects us and helps us express feelings and ideas in a way like no other. Yet even knowing this truth, until recently it hadn’t occurred to me how truly powerful a force music can be.

Have you ever felt your soul dance?

Just before Christmas, Mr. Man and I attended our first Mumford & Sons concert. Fans since first hearing their music on the radio, we impatiently endured the opening acts, until finally the big moment arrived.

The stadium lights went dark, and the jostling crowd was left in total darkness, excited, anticipating, breaths held.  Then, slowly out of the darkness the voices came.

If you can, click the link below before reading on. They opened with this song.

For the first two minutes, we all listened in the dark.  There were no fancy theatrics, no lasers or smoke, just the dark and the melody.  I felt the goose bumps rise, and a strange aching begin in my chest.

As the rhythm quickened, and the beat grew stronger, the stadium flooded with light. There, standing before the crowd, were four average guys, with simple instruments, and strong melodic voices. Singing of love and redemption, singing from their souls.

Love, it will not betray you,
Dismay or enslave you,
It will set you free.
Be more like the man,
You were meant to be.

The beat, the cadence, the words, as I listened the ache in my chest spread to my throat.  My heart raced and I felt close to tears. Nodding my head and tapping my feet, I was struck with a clear and brilliant certainty.  

My soul was dancing.

My background is Scottish, Irish and English, but I never lived in these cultures.   I lived in Newfoundland as a small child, but I don’t remember much.

Yet, this music.  So rooted in the places of my heritage, stirs a longing homesickness in me that I can hardly explain.  The beat of the drums and jig of the fiddle connects to a memory never realized and long forgotten.  When I hear this music, I feel the need to dance and sing and laugh.  To be surrounded by friends and family, raising a glass to health and happiness.
 
So, the next time you are mindlessly swaying to the rythm of your favorite music, take a moment and really listen.  Maybe, just maybe, if you pay close attention, you'll feel it too.

The pure joy of your soul dancing!


Enjoying the nuances of life,

Mandy:)        

Introducing Pep Talk Polly!

It's February.  It's grey, and today I’m struggling.


With the exception of the dark times of Little Miss Pessimist, I try really hard to remain optimistic and moving forward every day.

I DO NOT post negativity and “pity me” status updates on any of the social networks, and generally hide or block those that do.

My motto is please don’t drop your drama in my space.

I have a 3 year old with enough toys to cover the whole state of Washington, so it’s safe to say there is no space for you to leave your drama anywhere near me!

The only exception is made for Friends and Family in need. Whenever someone close to me is feeling sad or stressed or confused or lost I am there.

Anytime, Anywhere, Anything. They can call me and I’ll listen and be there.

Wait a minute... that’s a song isn’t it?

Actually truth be told, it doesn’t always have to be just friends and family. Clients, co-workers, friends of friends, acquaintances in my writing class, random shoppers at the grocery store…

It doesn’t matter who it is, or what their situation, if I sense they are struggling with something, my knee jerk reaction if to offer them some nugget of wisdom or advice. Something to help highlight the silver lining hidden within the personal grey cloud they are struggling under.

Then advice given, they can skip merrily on their way, and take their drama with them. That’s a fair trade right?

In fact I offer positive advice (both solicited and annoyingly unsolicited) so often that the other day I had an epiphany and wrote this down in one of my notebooks,

“Just Call me Pep Talk Polly!”

My super hero persona? Perhaps. One of the voices in my head? Certainly not!

Now, here’s the ironic part.

I am notorious for giving pep talks to each and every needy person I come in contact with, and generally feel obliged to point out the positive in any horrible situation I come up against, but I am completely incapable of doing the same for myself.

Even though I strive to recognize the good and positive all around me, sometimes I feel kind of lost.

My dreams and ideas seem too big, and I feel so small and insignificant. There are so many amazing talented people in this world, and I feel pretty normal and mundane. Sometimes, I have a hard time believing I will ever rise above and succeed.

Sometimes I really need the swift kick in the pants that only Pep Talk Polly can deliver.

It’s REALLY hard to practice what you preach.

While I’m struggling to walk-the-walk , I think I’m going to keep Pep Talk Polly around for a while. She seems cool, always good for a laugh, doesn’t take up too much closet space. I think we’re going to get up to some very entertaining hijinks together here in Mandyland. Best to stay tuned!

How about you? Got any alter egos? Or maybe you need a smack from Pep Talk Polly? Don’t be shy, we love to hear from you!

Naming the voice in your head isn’t crazy, right?

Mandy:)

As Long as I'm Living....

Tonight, like many nights of late, Miss M called out in the dark. Her tearful voice full of fear called out to Mommy and Daddy to protect her from the monsters.

Shuffling into our room, hair tousled, eyes bleary, Miss M crawled into our bed to escape the terrors lurking behind her eyelids.

Gathering her into my lap, a bundle of blankets and softly hitching breath, I held her close. I whispered the nightmares wouldn’t get her, that Mommy and Daddy would make sure they couldn’t.

Despite her cries, I carried her across the hall to her room. Hysterical in my arms, frustrated and over tired, her despair broke my heart.  Sitting on the edge of her bed I rocked her. Back and forth, back and forth, I murmured soothing sounds.  Shushing and swaying I attempted to the drive the monsters away.

As I rocked, out of the dark a trembling voice whispered, “Mama, I want to go to the rocking chair.”

With a quiet affirmation I eased off of the bed and carried my life’s love to the chair in the corner of the room. The chair I'd spied in a random thrift store while still pregnant.  The chair I’d purchased on the spot, had the saleswoman wedge into the backseat of my car, and then spent hours painting the perfect shade of apple red.

Approaching that chair, Miss M’s tiny arms around my neck, I felt my heart flutter with excitement. It’d been forever since we’d last snuggled and rocked. My nights spent cradling a sweet suckling babe, were now replaced with a bedtime routine far more busy and boisterous.

Settling into the chair my sweet one leaned against my chest, long legs dangling on either side, now gangly arms tangled in the blankie snuggly wrapped around her shoulders. With our bodies properly arranged, I slowly began to rock, back and forth, back and forth.

My hand, as if possessed of its own memory, silently fell into the well-known rhythm, up and down, up and down, feeling her strong back, and its steady rise and fall.

As we rocked, her solid weight on my lap, my thoughts began to stumble.

“So big, when did my baby get so big?”

With feet moving the chair, fingers massaging her back, I began to hum Brahms’s “Lullaby and Good Night”. I don’t recall this song from my own childhood, but from the moment I brought Miss M home from the hospital, I've been humming this song. To sooth, to calm, to cure, to relax, no matter the situation I have instinctively hummed this tune.

Rocking together, locked in embrace, my little girl who can count to 20 and sing her ABCs. Who helps me feed the cats and insists on brushing her teeth "all by herself." My beautiful daughter, so smart and so independent, nestled against my chest, eyes closed, breathing steady.

Leaning my face over her soft hair, I kissed her smooth forehead. Leaning back, still rocking, still humming, and the realization hit me. Like a stinging elastic snap in my brain, four seemingly innocent little words.

“Not a baby anymore.”

Holding back my tears, I squeezed her just a little tighter, desperate to freeze her in this moment just a little bit longer. Yet, the words repeat.

“Not a baby anymore.”

That swaddled little peanut I brought home from the hospital has grown and developed into a full-fledged little girl. With her own ideas and indestructible opinions, she’s come through the first stage of her life, and is ready and excited for the next.

Not a baby anymore, a big girl now.

The thought repeats, "a big girl now", and yet a small insistent voice inside is not satisfied.  Piping up, it calms me.

“She will always be your baby,” it whispers “always.”

Slowing the rock of the chair, I shifted my baby into my arms, and carried her over to the bed.  For now the terrors are gone, and Miss M is at rest.

My baby, my sweet one, my life’s love, asleep and dreaming dreams of color and light.

Smiling, I turn and leave.

No matter how big she gets, how much she learns, or how many new things she discovers, she’ll always be my little baby, and I’ll always be here to help her keep the monsters at bay.


As soon as I got Miss M back into her bed, I was so inspired that I wrote this post. It was partially influenced by one of my favorite children’s books by Robert Munch entitled “Love You Forever”.  Not that long ago Miss M and I would read it together, and when the mother rocked her baby “Back and Forth, Back and Forth and sang", Miss M. would rock and sing with me.


This book has always been one of my favorites, and could make me teary at the drop of a hat.  Now that I am a mother myself, it holds a new place in my heart. A place of undeniable truth.

"I'll love you forever

I'll like you for always

As long as I'm living

My baby you'll be."

Trying not to blink,
 
Mandy:)

A Personal PSA...

Happy 2012!

Although we’re a few days in now, I’m feeling so excited for the New Year filled with amazing opportunities and exciting adventures. The slate is clean and the outlook bright. I have so many goals and projects on my dance card, that I can hardly contain my excitement!

Except…

Lately, it’s been hard to maintain focused and positive, when I feel like I’m drowning in…

Negativity!

Despite, my past tangles with Little Miss Pessimist, I have been embracing my inner optimist and feeling good!

Then…

As I leave work after a long day, I walk into the parking garage and see a piece of white paper wedged into my car door. Retrieving it, I read the angry scrawled letters,

“LEARN TO PARK!”

The right tires of my vehicle are barely 6 inches over the line.

Shaking my head at the unnecessary and nasty message from the self-proclaimed parking police, I crumple the note and throw it onto the seat next to me.

Then…

As I lounge, looking for a little entertainment, I am confronted with a Realty TV invasion. The variety is staggering, and each is more humiliating and demeaning than the one before. Participants subjected to bullying by expert judges, the worst moments of human nature celebrated, and genuine heartbreak broadcast in glaring HD.

(I know there are some shows that are inspiring and uplifting, but sadly they are the exception and not the rule.)

Then…

Desperate to escape, I open my laptop, and pull up a recent CNN opinion piece. Written by a fellow working Mom, I can immediately relate to her honest confessions. I identify with her longing, doubts and insecurities. I admire her courage to share her fears with the world. As I finish reading, I scroll down to the comments, and what I find sickens me.

“Stop whining…”
“Who cares…”
“How offensive…”

Nasty comment after nasty comment floods the screen and I am heartbroken for the women who had so sincerely bared her soul.

With the new social media culture and anonymity of the internet, it seems everyone has embraced their inner Playground Bully.

Whatever happened to, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all”?

When was constructive criticism replaced by name-calling and nastiness?

I completely acknowledge every individual’s right to their opinions and beliefs. I support free expression and the passionate exchange of ideas. I believe that through discussion and debate opposing sides can gain perspective and valuable insights from each other.

But hate, sarcasm, belittlement and patronizing should never enter the conversation.

See, it’s not just that I believe in manners and polite civility.

It’s more than that.

I believe the seemly innocent negativity that begins with a snide comment here and unnecessary judgment there, eventually mutates, grows fangs and turns to sinks its teeth into the creator.

As individuals attacking the weaknesses in others, begin to recognize the same weaknesses in themselves, an unrealistic idea of perfection is formed, leading to the judgments and hate turned inward.

How can they ever achieve their idea of perfection when they are so obviously stupid, ugly, poor, fat, uncool, untalented, uncultured....

Imperfect.

Sound familiar?

Well this year I say ENOUGH!

This year I encourage everyone to eradicate the sources of negativity in your life.

If it’s not constructive, or offering positive feedback, then disregard.

In turn, aim to offer only constructive criticism and support to others.

Don’t allow the negative, bullying culture into your world.

And if the idea that positive actions attract positive outcomes is true…

Then we should all have an amazing 2012!


Pimping the positive vibes,

Mandy:)

My Mom

57 years ago today Ruth and Rod McLeod welcomed to the world their first child, Karen Jean McLeod.

25 years later, she became my Mom.

Then 28 years after that, she was by my side as I became a Mom.

Here she is with the teeny, tiny Miss M.

My Mom is quite possibly the most loving and positive person I have ever met. She is ALWAYS there when I need her, and always dolling out exactly the medicine I need.

If I need a shoulder cry on, her arms are spread wide.

If I need to whine and complain, she’s there to listen. Uttering caring words of understanding, and then giving me the swift kick in the rump I need to take action and fix whatever the problem may be.

She helps me understand that I am not a super hero, I am not perfect, and that I can’t control everything.

When I begin spinning out of control, rapidly rising off the ground and into the stratosphere of the unrealistic.

Piling on too many expectations.

Being too hard on myself.

Trying to make everything perfect.

My Mom is there, reaching out, grabbing me firmly by my big toe, and hauling me back down to earth.

Whether I like it or not.

She has instilled in me a love of the written word and a passion to create.

Growing up she was never without a good book, and she was always exploring new creative outlets.

Ceramics, knitting, needlepoint, and most recently quilting.

Her creations are gorgeous and I treasure every gift she creates just for me!

Her smile is genuine and her laughter contagious.

I love it when I can make my Mom laugh!

My Mom is beautiful.

She is bursting with a loving kindness that only further enhances her physical beauty.

My Mom's love of her family is unconditional.

She tells me I’m amazing and talented and smart.

She says, I never cease to amaze her with my ideas and goals and dreams.

She encourages me to never give up.

To dream. To believe. To act with the certainty that I have what it takes to achieve anything.

My Mom is my rock.

And today is her day.

So, Happy birthday to my amazing mother!

Enjoy your day, soak up the attention and know you deserve it all!

Wish I could be there to celebrate with you!

Love you!!!!

XO

Mandy:)

A Ray of Sunshine

Fall has arrived in Portland, and with it the rain. The gray, depressing, never ending rain.

Going hand and hand with the rain, the cold has also descended. A gray cold that creeps into your bones, leaving a chill that never goes away. Having grown up in Canada I thought I’d experienced the worst cold there was, but the frigid damp here is like the spiny fingers of death, stealing into your soul, and never letting go.

So, what’s a girl to do to keep her spirits up and stay warm?

How about singing in the rain?

Singing in the rain….

What a glorious feeling…

I’m HAPPY again!

One amazing and silly Daddy + one giggling little girl =

A sure fire cure to the rainy day blues!


Catching the little rays of sunshine, and holding them close,

Mandy:)

The Small Stuff

A perk of being a Canadian/U.S. family is that we get to celebrate Thanksgiving twice. My husband kindly cooks a yummy turkey dinner for me in October, to honor Canadian Thanksgiving. Then we have turkey with all the fixings again in November, to honor American Thanksgiving.

And, when I say honor, read “excuse to have turkey dinner, with all the fixings, TWICE”.

So, Oct. 10th came and went, and we participated in the required gluttonous celebrations, and now Nov. has arrived and in a few weeks we will get to do it all over again! The difference this time however, is that the rest of the country we live in is about to celebrate too, and so leading up to the big day there are all kinds of fun activities to participate in.

One currently running on Facebook is “30 Days of Thanks”. Everyone is encouraged to post one item each day for the 30 days of November, that they are thankful for. I personally think this is a great way to remember how lucky we all are, but you do remember “Focus”, right?

Um, that wasn’t even the whole list that runs through my head, each and every minute of every day. I DO NOT need another commitment to worry about!

Instead I’ve decided to use the activity as blog fodder, and thereby continue to fulfill the time consuming commitment I already made at the beginning of November.

Wait a minute….

Anyway, here we go….

But before I start let me warn you, my husband, daughter, parents, friends and family will not be included in this list. My love and thanks for each and every one of them, and recognition of their importance in my life, is something I acknowledge EVERY day, not just during November.

So…

1. Elevators. I’m not lazy, and do occasionally take the stairs, but sometimes you have a wedgie that needs picking, and an empty elevator can be the perfect place to take care of business.

2. Baby farts. When a precious, innocent little bundle of joy lets one rip, I can hardly keep a straight face for more than about 5 seconds.

3. Silence. I love talk and laughter, but sometimes there is absolutely nothing better than complete and utter silence. It’s so rare in our society, and ESPECIALLY rare in my life!

4. Baths. I DISLIKE showers! There is nothing better in life, than sitting in a steaming hot bath and allowing the heat to soak right in to your bones. And, to those of you who insist that bathing = sitting in your own filth, all I can say is “Seriously, how dirty ARE you!?!?”

5. A new book. Holding it in my hands, I feel a palpable bubble of glee rise from my stomach, straight up my throat, erupting in a squeal befitting a 5 year old. I just can’t help it! Aren’t you excited before you visit a new place??? Well a new book is a new world, with new friends, just waiting to welcome you with open arms.

6. A steaming hot, non-fat, Café Mocha, without whip cream… it’s a guilty indulgence, that’s almost guilt free.

7. Getting older. It means I’m not dead yet!

8. Ugly Christmas Sweaters. All you can do is laugh, and hope the person wearing it is being funny, and doesn’t actually think it’s the height of fashion.

9. Toddler Plumber Butt. The curse of being too tall for one pant size, but not big enough around for another. The blessing being everyone can then enjoy the cutest crack in existence.

10. Peanut Butter and Bacon sandwiches. Hey, don’t knock it til you try it!

11. Seasons. When you don’t have the weather to talk about with obscure relatives, things can get pretty awkward. Believe me, I lived in Guam for 2 years. Sun, humidity, and rain, that was about it!

12. Silly moments. My 6’2” husband dancing around the living room, pretending to be a ballerina, just to make me laugh, is PRICELESS!

13. Sleeping naked. TMI, I know, but it’s seriously the freest I feel all day.

14. A new Paper Source catalogue. I usually get so excited, I pee a little.

15. Art. Color, beauty, inspiration…. Magic!

16. Severe weather. As long as it isn’t endangering anyone’s life, it’s kind of exciting!

17. Being born in the 20th century. If I’d been born in mediaeval times, I would of likely been burned at the stake, for the singular crime of possessing red hair!

18. Spellcheck. For the amount I read, I still can’t spell to save my life.

19. The piece entitled “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”. If only everyone would live by these rules.

20. Great Quotes.

21. Clothing that is sized large. I know it’s just a number, and I know shouldn’t care, but when I can fit into a pair of pants, labeled one size smaller than I usually wear, it makes me do a little jig of happiness.

22. A Bargain. You can’t brag about something you paid a fortune for, but when someone compliments you on the dress you got on sale…

23. Meeting with a new friend for the very first time.

24. Perfectly medium rare steak. If it makes my mashed potatoes turn pink, it’s PERFECTION!

25. Radom uniqueness. Art, antiques, toys, clothing, it doesn’t really matter. If it’s a little bit different and quirky, then I’m smitten.

26. Counting down the days til a big event. It feels like a little celebration every time you cross a day off the calendar.

27. Freshly washed sheets. I’m telling you, when you sleep naked, those sheets are even more decadent feeling!

28. Going barefoot. It could be the middle of the winter, and my feet will be ice cold, yet I cannot bring myself to put on socks.

29. LISTS!!!

30. Dancing and singing at the top of my lungs in the middle of a large group of people. Everyone looks like an idiot, no one can hear if you are out of tune, and it’s the best opportunity to completely let loose!

Well, then. That’s it.

Phew! That was actually harder than I thought it would be.

But it was nice to sit down and shine a spotlight on the small stuff that makes me smile every day.

I firmly believe if you can celebrate the small stuff, then every day will be a mini celebration!

So pass the confetti,
Mandy:)

Words to Live By

With the Occupy movement spreading throughout the United States, and debates raging around the complicated issues. It's important to take a step back and remember that the important things really aren't that complicated.

This is hands down my absolute favorite “poem” ever. It is actually drawn from a book by Robert Fulghum. I remember the first time I read it, I was in University. I was at a poster fair at the start of the year, and there it was on a poster. Through my many moves, the poster eventually got ruined, but the message of these words still sticks with me, and gives me chills every time I read it.

All I really need to know about how to live and what to do and how to be I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate-school mountain, but there in the sandbox at Sunday School. These are the things I learned…

Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat.

Flush.

Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.

Live a balanced life - Learn some and Think some and Draw and Paint and Sing and Dance and Play and Work every day some.

Take a nap every afternoon.

When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.

Be aware of wonder.

Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.

Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup-they all die.

So do we.

And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned-the biggest word of all - LOOK.

Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation. Ecology and politics and equality and sane living. Take any of those items and extrapolate it into sophisticated adult terms and apply it to your family life or your work or your government or your world and it holds true and clear and firm.

Think what a better world it would be if all of us -- the whole world -- had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankies for a nap. Or if all governments had a basic policy to always put things back where they found them and to clean up their own mess.

And it is still true, no matter how old you are – when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.

Simple yet, so powerful! I encourage you to pass it on as a reminder that sometimes life is not as comlicated as we make it.


Going out to get a new poster,

Mandy:)

Focus

I wanna…

Learn about photography, and
Go on a date with my husband, and
Get healthy, and
Be a success, and
Start on my Christmas cards, and
Style my new home, and
Have friends over for dinner, and
Finish ORGANIZING above mentioned home, and
Write, and
Create, and
Spend more time with my little girl, while she’s still little, and
Find the perfect pair of gray boots, in my size, and of course, on sale, and
Pursue new opportunities, and
Find balance, and…

Just stop and breathe………………………………………………………

Sometimes, my mind spins like a top, with so many ideas and desires and goals. I can’t focus.

I was taught,

“If you’re going to do something, do it right, or don’t bother!”

It’s a good lesson, but… I sometimes wonder how I internalized it. In some areas of my life good enough seems fine…

The house is mostly clean…
My pants are mostly ironed…
Diner is mostly nutritious…

But, in other areas I’m stalled by the idea of not wanting to start because I can’t do it RIGHT.

I’m beginning to think I need to adopt a “good enough” attitude, or I’ll never get started on the things I really want to do!

So this month I’m committing to getting started!

My goal is to write and post SOMETHING every day.

A story, randomness, my grocery list…. Doesn’t matter. I just need to write something.

The most famous writers in the world all say that in order to be a really good writer you need to practice… you need to write!

So here goes nothing…. my new mantra for the month…



(Love this print... available at the Keep Calm Shop)

Wish me luck,

Mandy:)

It's Official

Okay, FYI… I started writing this post on January 1st! Yup, that’s right… TEN days ago. I’ve got big news to tell you, which ultimately explains why I have been MIA for so long, but it seems like the powers that be don’t want me to blog anymore. Something BIG happened that has had me totally preoccupied… well that and I have a certified plague carrier living in my house. She may be cute as a button, and soft and cuddly but…

WATCH OUT!

She is also carrying every known bacteria and illness out there. The flu, the common cold… heck for all I know she might be carrying the black plague!! I mean what is more fun to a two year old then to run her hands through her mouth (after touching every disgusting item in her path) and then promptly placing them on your face! YECK!!! I don’t think I’ve ever been as sick as I have lately. The latest bout consisted of my body thinking it would be good fun to allow a small amount of fluid to collect in my inner ear.

Do you have any idea how important it is to the functioning of the rest of your body to keep your ears free of foreign fluids?!?!?

Let me tell you, I seriously felt drunk… only without the full body relaxation, feelings of hilarity, capped off by the certainty of knowing your ARE the COOLEST!

Anyway, now that the world has stopped spinning (for the most part anyway) and there is a rare moment of calm in Mandyland it’s high time to fill you in on some MAJOR developments.

So, here we go.

First: It’s Official….

My little girl is 2!

The first weekend after we arrived home from our great European adventure (which I promise to wrap up eventually) we celebrated Miss M with a cake, a few friends and a heap load of presents. As I watched my little angel (or devil depending on her mood-of-the-moment) run around, gripping the massive Singing Elmo Balloon from her Daddy in her sticky little fist, I could hardly believe how quickly time has flown by.

I mean… TWO?!?!

REALLY??!?!

How did that happen??? It feels like just yesterday she was my little peanut, all tiny and wrinkled, and new. Now, she is this walking talking little person. Constantly exploring the world around her and absolutely tickled-pink by every new discovery she makes. I love watching her yes get big and excited when she learns or discovers something new. JUST PRICELESS!!

I think this third year of my Munchkin’s life is going to be full of both the terrible (they don’t call it the Terrible Twos for nothing people) and the terrific, and I can hardly wait!

Second: It’s Official…

I turned the big 3-0!

Yup, I’ve officially entered the next decade of my life, and seriously I couldn’t have asked for a better kick off. Absolutely spoiled by my dear friend Jessica and my awesome hubby, I had a BLAST!

The event included surprise mani-pedis, beautiful over the top hotel room, chocolates, wine, crazy birthday accessories, glamorous hair and make-up session by my personal style goddess (Mrs. Kane… but of course), private lounge area reserved for a night of food and drink, more surprises including guests and greetings from around the world….

*sigh*

It was just a 150% TOP NIGHT!! In fact I had so much fun that I think I’m going to turn 30 again next year, just so I can repeat the experience.

Finally, and definitely the biggest: It’s Official…

I AM GAINFULLY EMPLOYED!!!!!

HELL YA!!! Fist-pumping, jumping up and down, doing the happy dance, high-fiving, chest bumping…

I have seriously been busting at the seams to share that news, but all that goes into suddenly becoming a Working Mom as opposed to a SAHM has made it near impossible for me to focus and get to writing…

Well that and the aforementioned ongoing plague in my household.

Seriously people, being a Working Mom takes some talent. But, let me refocus… I will talk about the wonders of working and being a parent in another post.

So… you remember my post “Yuck It Up” ? The one where I recounted what could quite possibly be considered the worst interview experience EVER. A story filled with infection, oozing, sleep deprivation, poxes, boils… and although at times comedic, a story that concluded without the Hollywood ending of the much abused heroine getting the job.

Ya, I KNOW my loyal readers didn’t forget that wonderful tale of Mandyland mishap.

Well… cue karma, destiny, fate and whatever other mystical force you want to invoke causes I TOTALLY got THAT job!! The one that ended in misery after a seriously over the top effort on my part!!!!

Hard to believe? Well, the end of October, brought an end to my drought of job opportunities, and I was FLOODED. I even had two interviews on one day! Although, one didn’t pan out as I had expected, the other went GREAT and was promptly followed by the customary waiting.

And waiting…. And waiting… And waiting….

After days spent in my typical post interview obsession phase. The one which resembles a teen girl waiting for the call from the boy she likes, who she thinks likes her, but she’s not really sure, but she talked to his best friend’s, sister’s, brother who said….

Just picture me perched by the phone, checking my emails about 100 times a day and generally possessed by the spirit of OCD and you get the exact idea. Finally after a few days enough was enough and we needed to get out of the house.

Packing up Ms. M we made a beeline for OMSI. After a morning of educational, nurturing fun, followed immediately by trashy, horrible-for-you McDonald’s chicken nuggets…

That’s right people; it’s all about BALANCE in this house!!!

The Munchkin and I returned home to find the phone message light blinking. Thinking it was a response from the job I had recently interviewed for I lunged for the phone and quickly dialed the necessary numbers to check the voicemail.

SURPRISE!!!!! We were wondering if you were still interested in our Administrative Assistant/Office Manager Position, as it has recently become available again….

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY!!!!!!! NO WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One short telephone conversation followed by a quick interview/meet and greet with the BIG BOSS and I was…

H to the I to the R – E – D! HIRED! HIRED! HIRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sweet victory is MINE!

So, since then I’ve pretty much just been trying to keep a little work-life balance going on in Mandyland, and honestly I’m pretty sure I’m failing miserably.

But more about that next time, and I promise it won’t be 3 months til my next post!

Bringing home a bit o’the bacon,

Mandy:)

Paris Finale: Here’s to Clichés

On our final day in Paris we had just one goal... to get a picture of the Munchkin in front of the Eiffel Tower.

But I didn't want just any picture. I wanted an iconic picture. I didn't care how clichéd or staged, I wanted Madeline wearing a black and white stripped shirt and a beret.

We took about a MILLION pictures, but I think we definitely got some AWESOME shots!











And my personal favorite...



Pretty good, non?

After we finished our mini photo session, we made our way over to the Jardin du Luxembourg. A beautiful park in the middle of Paris, it was a great place to have a picnic lunch and watch the ducks swim around the fountain.

It was the perfect end to a perfect weekend!

So that was the end of our time in Paris, but not in Europe.

More on those adventures soon,

Mandy:)

Paris Part III – I Couldn’t Stop Smiling!

On my first trip to Paris our group visited Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, located at the summit of Montmartre. Of all the amazing sights I saw on my first trip to Europe, this spot definitely stuck in mind. It has got to be the most amazing European basilica I’ve ever seen. It sits atop the mountain and practically glows in the sunlight, offering breathtaking views of the city below, and an overwhelming feeling of magic and wonder.

Being over 10 years ago and seriously brief, as our teachers quickly redirected us to our next educational experience, I’ve always felt my first visit was somewhat lacking. So I really wanted to go back, see the cathedral again and explore the area properly.

After a morning filled with light and beauty at the Musee D’Orsay I was more then ready for an encore. So we jumped on the nearest Metro line and made our way to the base of Montmartre.

Miracle of miracles, we even managed not to get lost this time!

Exiting our train we found a stairway on our left and an elevator on our right. Now, although we had Madeline in her stroller, we had gotten really good at hefting her up and down the steep stairs, stroller and all, on our many trips through the Metro system (FYI to all my readers with small children, the Paris Metro system is NOT stroller friendly!)

So when faced with a choice between the stairs or having to wait in line for the elevator, we thought, “Ah, no problem, we’ve got this!” I guess more accurately I should say my parents took on the challenge, or at least that is what it turned into. With my Dad carrying the front and Michelle carrying the back we began to climb.

And climb and climb and climb…

This was one SERIOUS set of stairs. It just kept going and going in a never ending spiral. My Dad just kept saying, “One more flight… Ooops, okay… this is the last one… Or maybe not… We’re almost there… Errrrr, or… OKAY THIS IS THE LAST ONE…. oops….”

YIKES! Poor Michelle, she really had the hard part as she had to hold approximately 40 pounds slightly above her head for the entire climb. Good thing she is one fit lady!

FINALLY, we could hear the sounds of the street and see daylight and so with a sign of relief my parents finally put Miss M down and we made our way to the funicular (think cable car/mini railway up the mountain). I mean after climbing from the subway hauling the Munchkin and all her stuff, we had absolutely ZERO intention of climbing up the hundreds of steps to Sacré-Cœur.

Here are Madeline and I in the Funicular car,



She had a lot to “tell” me and point at as our car moved up the hill.

We exited the funicular, walked about 50 steps and TA DA!!



Was I right, or was I right? Every time I look at this picture I get goose bumps and it instantly takes my breath away. It’s just so darn beautiful!

We enjoyed the sights and sounds on the steps of the basilica, including getting a picture of Madeline and I in front of the beautiful view,



and then made our way around behind the church where the Artist’s market was. This is what I was REALLY looking forward to.

As I walked into the square, I wanted to jump up and down like a little kid on Christmas morning. Stationed around the square were about 50 artists displaying their original works. All different styles and colours schemes I felt like a kid in a candy store. I knew I wanted to buy something, but the prices were a bit scary, and there were so many choices it was overwhelming. I wasn’t expecting things to be cheap, after all these are pieces of art lovingly completed by passionate artists, but YIKES! I must have walked around the square three times before I sat down at one of the surrounding cafes to think things over.

While I pondered what I wanted to do I enjoyed a delicious glass of red wine. Here’s the whole fam, soaking up the ambiance.



Ready to get out there again, I got up and made a few more circuits. When I was finished this time I had narrowed it down to three choices, but I still felt undecided and unsure I could afford what I really wanted. Returning again to where Michelle, Dad and Madeline were camped out I sat down with a sigh. Michelle leaned over and asked me what I was thinking. I told her I still wasn’t sure. The paintings were more then I really wanted to spend, and I just couldn’t make up my mind as to which one I was willing to make that kind of investment on.

That’s when my parents dropped the biggest surprise of the whole weekend on me. An announcement that left me smiling for hours and days afterwards.

Michelle told me that she and my Dad had a choice for me. They could either give me some money for my birthday to spend however I wanted, or they would buy me a painting.

Ummm, hard decision right?!?!

So to commemorate the big 3-0 I have coming up Michelle helped me choose the most absolutely gorgeous painting ever.

Here is the man who painted it. His name is George.



Could he look any more like the stereotypical Parisian Artist? He was so sweet I just wanted to squeeze him. I felt shy about taking his picture, so Michelle came with me to ask :)

Here I am holding my treasure. All I wanted to do was sit there and stare at it, but I really had to keep it wrapped up to protect it til I got it home.



But, of course, I wouldn’t dream of closing this post without a picture so you can all enjoy its beauty to. So here it is,



My AWESOME painting of Montmartre.

*sigh*

I can hardly wait to get home and have it framed.

Feeling seriously spoiled!

Mandy:)

Paris Part II – Degas, Van Gough and Pissarro, Oh My!

Not to sound snooty, but this mini holiday was actually my third visit to the French capital.

I had my first taste of Paris when I was 17. I scrimped and saved and begged my relatives and friends to give me only money for every conceivable gift giving occasion. All this and some serious help from my parents and grandparents and I was able to go on a ten day March Break trip to Paris and Venice with my school’s travel club. It was a lot of fun and it officially kindled by devotion to all things Europe, but it was definitely a whirlwind trip. We saw all the important sights in record time and the result was I only sort of remembered the experience.

Then the summer I was 20, I was living with my family in Germany, and I met my now husband. At the end of our romantic summer courtship it was time for me to go back to complete my third year of university in Canada. Dreading the looming separation we decided to spend a long weekend in Paris. Again we saw a bunch of the important and interesting sights, while also adding a few neither of us had ever seen before. It was wonderful and romantic and full of laughter.

But at the end of it, there were still a few things I had never done, that I really wanted to do.

So when my Dad sent me an email, before Madeline and I arrived, asking if there was anywhere that I really wanted to go while I was in Europe, my mind kept coming around again and again to those missed opportunities in Paris.

So, it was thanks to my fantastic parents that I found myself in line to enter the Musee D’Orsay at 11:30 in the morning on our first full day. Here I am,



Not only did they make it possible for me to visit this temple of awesomeness, but they also took the Munchkin for some Grandparents Time so I could enjoy the work of the masters to the fullest without interruptions of “Mama? Mama? Mama?” every few minutes.

Parents of the year? I think so!!!!

So I’m waiting in line to enter the Musee. Here was the line,



Ummm, this wasn’t exactly part of the plan. In fact it was a line like this that had kept me from my artistic Mecca in the past. Remember my comment in “Paris Part I” about getting lost?

So, the plan was to get up and get to the museum when it opened at 9:30 am. I’d spend the morning soaking up the colour and brilliance. We’d meet for lunch and then head on to our next fun filled destination.

We started by waking up at 9:00 a.m. By the time we were washed, dressed and had some food in our bellies it was about 10:00 a.m. We were already behind the eight ball, but hey we were in Paris, so whatever, right?

Heading into Gare du Nord, I asked my parents if they knew which subway line we were going to take. “Yup!” my Dad replied, “Got it all mapped out!”

Sure.

An hour and a half later… after carrying Madeline up and down various stairways… second guessing and stumbling along… consulting and re-consulting maps and signs… ending up on the right train, but going the wrong direction… then find ourselves sitting on the wrong platform, waiting to go the right direction… finally running to the right platform and missing our train by seconds… cursing quietly under our breath while trying to keep our smiles firmly fastened…. we made it to the Musee D’Orsay.

Leaving me in line with a time set to meet, my parents took Madeline off for some Parisian fun of their own.

Luckily for me the line moved really quickly and I was inside the museum in about 20 minutes. Photography and videography are strictly prohibited inside, so unfortunately I can not share the full beauty that is the Musee D’Orsay, but suffice to say that for as amazing as I imagined it would be… it was… and more.

On each of my previous visits to Paris, I’d been on a mission to see the works of my favorite artists. Van Gough, Degas, Monet. Also I was eager to experience the works of artists I had only heard in passing, Pissarro, Cezanne, Toulouse-Letrac. I have a serious love for impressionistic art. The colours, the imagination, the techniques, the genius! It was my assumption that such fabulous works would be housed in the Louvre, but after two visits without ever seeing the masters I was looking for, I figured out that I was looking in the wrong place. Although the Louvre is stuffed to overflowing with many phenomenal works, the pieces I was lusting after were housed elsewhere.

As I entered the museum I was struck by the beauty of the building itself. Housed in an old train station the Musee D’Orsay is GOURGEOUS! The domed ceiling is BREATHTAKING! After taking a few moments to appreciate the architecture, I made a beeline for the impressionist wing.

Not to sound like a teenager but… O.M.G.!!!

Standing inches from pure genius I was utterly giddy. I seriously could not wipe the smile from my face. So much of the brilliance and subtlety of these works just does not translate when you view photos and prints. The work done by Degas has not in the past been my favorite, but in person… I can not even describe the brilliance adequately. The majority of the pieces I saw were done with pastels. I had no idea that that kind of vivid richness could even be achieved using pastels. And the techniques he used?!?! The slightest of scribbles here, a bit of shading there, a combination of colours I would not even dream of to achieve a realism… in the end you have…. well… a masterpiece!

There was just so much to take in!

My three hours spent roaming through the great works was time I will always remember. Discovering new artists I was not previously familiar with. Sitting in front of a marble statue so perfectly carved that the folds of fabric look REAL. Soaking up the quiet beauty and culture, all I can say is that ultimately my long awaited trip to this Paris hotspot was good for my soul. I left feeling inspired, humbled and honestly wanting to take some art classes!

And how was Miss M fairing on her own “Adventures Francais” you might ask? Well…

A visit to a beautiful park in order to enjoy the great weather and pose with Grandpapa for a picture.



Then on to the Louvre for a little education in the classics,



with a quick stopover at the fountain for a little fun with Grandmaman.



Quickly followed by a light lunch, which she kindly shared with the local wildlife.



With a final stop at another beautiful, historic, and fun fountain.



The result, one serious wore out little girl.



The fact that she is sleeping in her stroller is a first and I'm told resulted in an exultant Grandparents high five once achieved.

Our first morning in Paris may have been a bit frustrating and chaotic, bit it was quickly overshadowed, and the evening to come replaced any memory of it completely!

I’ll tell you all about that bit of unbelievable next time, but suffice to say it pretty much ROCKED MY SOCKS!!!

Still dreaming dreams full of colour and beauty,

Mandy:)

Paris Part I – Frappé La Rue

Preface: When my Dad first got together with Michelle, he worked really hard at improving his French. Michelle is French Canadian and so Dad really wanted to improve for when he went home to meet her family. Through hard work and perseverance my Dad’s French improved dramatically, and now he is pretty darn good. However, when learning any language, there are times when a common phrase just doesn’t translate. The title of this post is born from just such an instance.

We were heading out on the long trip to Quebec to see Michelle’s family. Everyone had used the washroom, double checked that they had everything and was safely belted into the car. My Dad looked back at all us kids and said,

“Ready? Alright! Let’s frappé la rue!”

His declaration was met with blank stares and then a burst of laughter from the French speakers in the car. See, “frappé” could translate to “hit”, and “la rue” to “the road”. So my Dad thought he was saying, “Let’s hit the road!”…

Ever heard the saying “Lost in Translation”? Yup…

That day an inside joke was born. So that whenever we are about to embark on a trip as a family, someone will announce, “Alright, let’s frappé la rue!”

Therefore, it is only appropriate that I start this post with the same declaration. Because, “frappé la rue” is exactly what we did. On Friday at noon we picked Michelle up from work, made a quick stop at home and then hit the road, direction Paris.

See, the signs we whizzed by on the high speed European highways confirmed it…



All in all the drive went very smoothly. My pint sized travelling superstar did amazingly.



Four hours on the road, including a traffic-jam right at the end as we drove into the Paris city center, and still smiling! My Dad declared that Madeline was welcome to travel with him anytime. She didn’t start to fuss until the very end, when quite frankly, we were all ready to start whining and crying.

After fighting our way through the CRAZY Parisian traffic, I mean honestly the traffic was terrifying at times, we arrived at our hotel.



The New Hotel.

Umm…. I can’t say it was new, or really anything close to new, but the location was IDEAL. Here is the view from our room.





This is Gare du Nord. One of the main metro/train stations in Paris. So it was a piece of cake to get to our desired locations all weekend.

Well, mostly a piece of cake.

Oh, what the hell. I know my siblings are reading this and shaking their heads. You guys know full well we got lost more then once. It’s not a family vacation unless we get lost!

I’ll be sure to fill you in with the complete details of that adventure and our first day in Paris in my next post.

Enjoying every minute!

Mandy:)

Oh, Oktoberfest? Um… JA!

When my Dad and Michelle sent me an email several weeks before our departure asking if I was interested in attending the large Oktoberfest celebration on the base I believe it took me about a nanosecond to say, “Um, JA!”

The first "Oktoberfest" was held on October 12, 1810, in Munich, Germany. Originally it was one big wedding reception, celebrating the marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen. The event was so successful, that they decided to do it again and again and again. It has since become the largest festival in the world, with some 6 million visitors a year.

Although, the festivities on the base in Geilenkirchen are considerably more humble than the fanfare in Munich, the elements are still the same. Lots of traditional beer, lots of traditional food, lots of traditional music and lots of rip-roaring-foot-stomping-gut-busting good times.

Germans have been perfecting the art of throwing a good party for over 200 years and believe me when I tell you they are now full fledged “Masters of the Fete”.

Arriving as the doors opened on the big night, priority number one was to secure a table. Traditional Oktoberfest tables are long and skinny, with long benches on either side. The idea being that everyone, whether they know each other or not, sits side by side, drinks in hand, to laugh and toast and celebrate TOGETHER! Even if the person sitting next to you isn’t a friend, they will be by the time the night is over.

Settled into our seats and surrounded by current and soon to be friends, the next priority of the night was food, and of course, DRINKS! Traditional drink at Oktoberfest is a stein of beer, and when the German’s serve you a beer they don’t mess around! Here are Michelle and I ready to start the night right!



(In the spirit of full disclosure, this was not actually my beer. At the time of this picture I was actually drinking some REALLY excellent German red wine. But since I didn’t want to look like a wimp with a teeny tiny glass of wine, I posed with my Dad’s beer. I promise that later on I did consume TWO of these massive mugs of ale, and as you can imagine, I was feeling no pain by the end of the night!)

So… seats? CHECK. Drinks? CHECK. Now… FOOD!

When at Oktoberfest, I feel like there are only two acceptable food choices, regardless of what is on the menu. Bratwurst or Schweinshaxe, also known as Ham Hock or Pig’s Knuckle. Since I can get a bratwurst in most any place in the U.S., there was only one choice for me,



YUM!!! It’s like your own little delicious pork roast! Jeez, my mouth is watering right now just remembering the flavor and tenderness! Given the size of this mammoth meal, Michelle and I shared, and then when we couldn’t eat anymore Dad ate what was left.

With a full belly, and a drink in hand the rowdy merriment began!! Being that my parents rarely get to spoil their children who all live half way around the world from them, my money was no good on this night. So often you would find my Dad at the end of the table pantomiming to Michelle and I, trying to ask if we needed another drink. There was a lot of “Three words? Sounds like… I, you, us???” Quickly realizing that as a family we really suck at charades, I made this extremely effective sign in the attempt to make things clearer,



GENIUS!

It worked like a charm, and for the rest of the night whenever my glass was empty I would simply hold up the sign and more beer would appear.

Yes, I am fully aware I am living a charmed life. Please let me enjoy it while I can!

As the drinks flowed the Band played louder and louder and the night moved into full swing. At every German festival such as this that I’ve been to, the Band plays a large part in directing the merriment. One popular custom by the Band is to lead the crowd in a toast. As a traditional Oompah-pah song would come to a close the band would yell “Zigga Zagga, Zigga Zagga, Oi, Oi, Oi!” and the crowd would join in. Raising their glasses and standing on benches, toasting to friends, family, country and GOOD TIMES!

Prone to being wallflowers, it took a little persuading, but eventually I got my parents up on the benches.



Enter sarcasm……... HERE! My parents are ANYTHING but wallflowers. They love a good party and can often be found leading the chant, song, dance, toast… WHATEVER!

Dancing?



CHECK!!! At one point, my Dad hauled me onto the dance floor for a traditional German ditty. A word of advice to you all, dancing to Oompah-pah in heels it HARD! I’ve never felt so uncoordinated in my life. But it was okay, cause later I felt pretty,



OH SO PRETTY!! But not as pretty as this guy,



They had these cones all over the base. Blocking off areas guest were not allowed to roam. Somehow this guy got a hold of one and decided it would make a fantastic headpiece. I blame the giant mugs of delicious beer.

Finally, one of our group received this,



This is called a Lebkuchenherzen. They are very popular at German festivals and gathering. They are gifts between friends and lovers in order to express their feeling for one another. After receiving this one we checked with the Germans we were sitting near to verify what it said. We were told it had two meanings,

#1: The name for a dog

Hmmmm….

#2: The word for someone who has perpetual, unmanageable, sticking up everywhere bed head.

Okay... how is that a term of endearment you want to give your loved ones???

About seven years ago I attended this festival for the first time with my hubby who was then my fiancé. Here we are,



I can’t get over how young we were!! Anyway, he gave me a Lebkuchenherzen, and for the life of me I don’t remember what it said. But now I am starting to wonder…

I hope it said “I love you” and not “I guess you’re alright… for now”.

Off to Paris this weekend in search of delicious edible treats instead of inedible cookies with bizarre messages on them.

Au Revoir,

Mandy:)

City Baby in Deutschland

Alrighty, so in my last post “And then…” you heard the nightmare trip we took to get over here. Well, despite our jetlag and exhaustion, the next day we jumped right in with both feet, eager and ready to start enjoying time with my parents.

My Dad and Michelle live in a cute little German village called Harzelt. It’s situated in what is known as the Tri-Border region. So named, it’s the area of Europe where Germany, Holland and Belgium all butt up against each other. It is not at all uncommon to drive around in this area and continually pop in and out of each country without even realizing it.

The village my parents live in is surrounded by multiple other little villages, which are ultimately clumped around the NATO Base where my Dad works. It’s a beautiful little area, which perfectly personifies what you would imagine European Country to be. Little red brick houses, quaint churches in the middle of village squares, twisting narrow cobble stoned streets and of course fields of animals and agriculture which have been tended by the same families for centuries.

In short, it’s like living in a postcard. Here are a few pics to give you an idea.







These were taken today, while Dad, Madeline and I were on a bike ride around the nearby villages. My parents are BIG TIME cycling enthusiasts and Dad couldn’t wait to get the Munchkin into an infant seat on his bike.



We got this one a few villages over in a larger city called Sittard, located in the Netherlands. It’s my Dad’s opinion that if you need anything to do with cycling, you go to Holland. He’s sure that the Dutch are born able to ride a bike. He often says first the bike comes out, then the baby.

Backing up a little, on our second day here we went for a walk around Harzelt, so Madeline could see all the local farm animals. I mean what is more exciting to a toddler then farm animals? Especially a City Baby like Madeline.

Although, Madeline saw lots of animals this year at the county fair, that experience could in no way compare with seeing cows and horses and ducks and chickens, and even emu in the fields. Running around, mooing and neighing and quacking and clucking and…. well… whatever emu do… Madeline was in heaven.

My Dad had a blast seeing her delight and reactions to the animals. She would point at the cows and exclaim, “Oooooooooo!”



This was both an utterance of awe, as well as what she believes a cow says. My daughter can manage to yell “MO!” at the top of her lungs, but when it comes to the sound a cow makes it’s “Ooooo”, not “Moo”. So, now whenever we are driving down the road and we see a bunch of cows (not a bunch, a herd… that’s just for you Dad), she squeals “Oooooo” until someone acknowledges, the cows. Needless to say, this happens quite frequently as cows are EVERYWHERE over here.

The day after our farm animal safari, it was time for my little City Baby to experience some real country playtime. Where better to have a little down and dirty fun then, in the dirt!

My Dad purposely left his garden unattended at the end of the summer, so that Madeline could have some fun playing and digging away to her heart’s content.

She dug…



And helped Grandpapa dig…



And looked at worms…



And eventually gave up on a shovel, cause her hands worked better.



Then she ran up and down the hill in Grandmaman and Grandpapa’s back yard.



Get a load of that dirt! I always thought I had a girly girl on my hands, but I guess she’s a little bit city and a little bit country.

And I think I like that…

I think I like that A LOT!

No better way to tell your kid had fun then this,



Good Times,

Mandy:)