I get annoyed with this show when skillful racing is not rewarded. Last night we saw the Bama girls show some serious smarts in battling against three teams that outclass them physically, dislike them, and fail to respect them as competitors. Lynn and Karlyn showed that pack of Tighty Whiteys a few things about navigating, thinking ahead, and staying focused (seriously--are the Bama girls the only team left capable of reading a map and/or finding their own way to a location?) Their reward? A well-earned chance to yield the Beauty Queens was snatched away by an "hours of operation" bunch-up, and they lost first place in a foot race to the physically gifted/mentally challenged Junkies. Lame. Even though Karlyn is clearly crazy and quite dislikeable, I'm starting to hope that some miracle combination of luck, skill and good timing will keep Bama in the race right to the end. Heck, I'd even cheer to see them win it, although that outcome seems highly improbable (remember the foot race).
Also, why oh why does the dreaded Yield always pop up on non-elimination legs? Is its sole purpose to sew seeds of bitterness between the teams? I think this twist needs some rethinking.
For maximum drama, I'd like to see a final three of the Beauty Queens, Bama and the McBickers. The Junkies are definitely the dullest of the remaining teams, and beyond that, as an all-male team going up against one co-ed and two all-female teams, the massive advantage they have in the physical challenges offends my sense of fair play. So, here's hoping that the gods of bad cab rides, missed connections and poor navigating conspire to send them to an early exit next episode.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving
Things are crazy busy around here (I didn't even have time to watch The Amazing Race on Sunday). But I still want to take the time to say Happy Thanksgiving to all you Yanks out there. Enjoy it.
We'll be having the traditional Thanksgiving stirfry around here.
We'll be having the traditional Thanksgiving stirfry around here.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
The Amazing Race: They're just not that into you
Dear Cho Bros:
You're nice guys. You're nice guys who take pride in being nice guys. A couple of nice guys is who you are. We get it. So it hurts me to break it to you, but I feel I must. Lynn and Karlyn: They're just not that into you. Oh sure, they'll send some love your way when it's convenient, but maybe you've noticed their pattern of consistently ditching you at every opportunity. Maybe, in your hearts, you can see that you were always a couple cans short of a six pack, and now that Dave and Mary are gone, well, it's silly to even talk about "the pack". Not only are you missing a few cans, you don't even have that plastic thingy that holds the cans together and poses a threat to wildlife once it ends up in the landfill. It's over, guys. Best to do your mourning in private and move on. Maybe you could funnel the hurt you're feeling into some competitive energy and actually TRY to do well in this race. How about it? You can show those heartless women what they're missing. You go, boys!
As for the race in general: watching this season has become a bit weird for me. See, I think the producers have done a great job setting it up, and I've really enjoyed watching the creative, relevant, and sometimes brutal challenges. Locations also have been great. But I'm finding I just don't much care who wins. And that's a problem when you're watching a contest. As a spectator, you've got to have a proverbial dog in the fight to get engaged in the action. Pulling for one team over another is what makes it fun. Hoping for one team to lose is even more fun. But when you don't care one way or another, you're just not going to experience that kind of heart-pounding, edge-of-your-seat excitement that you get when you care about the outcome.
So, to keep me in it, I've decided I have to pick a team. Let's see: The models are bland, and I can never, ever cheer for the young athletic dudes. It would be like cheering for the Yankees. The Chos are hopeless. I can't cheer for incompetence. Bama is outclassed. The McBickers are entertaining but far from likeable. Not much to work with there. That leaves the Blondies. Yes, they're sketchy. Yes, it's off-putting how they refer to Team Bama as "The Sistas" behind their backs. Yes, they're Beauty Queens (lame). But dammit, they're competing. And they're competing with glee. They act like they actually want to win. So that's that: against all odds, I'm going with Team T&A.
You're nice guys. You're nice guys who take pride in being nice guys. A couple of nice guys is who you are. We get it. So it hurts me to break it to you, but I feel I must. Lynn and Karlyn: They're just not that into you. Oh sure, they'll send some love your way when it's convenient, but maybe you've noticed their pattern of consistently ditching you at every opportunity. Maybe, in your hearts, you can see that you were always a couple cans short of a six pack, and now that Dave and Mary are gone, well, it's silly to even talk about "the pack". Not only are you missing a few cans, you don't even have that plastic thingy that holds the cans together and poses a threat to wildlife once it ends up in the landfill. It's over, guys. Best to do your mourning in private and move on. Maybe you could funnel the hurt you're feeling into some competitive energy and actually TRY to do well in this race. How about it? You can show those heartless women what they're missing. You go, boys!
As for the race in general: watching this season has become a bit weird for me. See, I think the producers have done a great job setting it up, and I've really enjoyed watching the creative, relevant, and sometimes brutal challenges. Locations also have been great. But I'm finding I just don't much care who wins. And that's a problem when you're watching a contest. As a spectator, you've got to have a proverbial dog in the fight to get engaged in the action. Pulling for one team over another is what makes it fun. Hoping for one team to lose is even more fun. But when you don't care one way or another, you're just not going to experience that kind of heart-pounding, edge-of-your-seat excitement that you get when you care about the outcome.
So, to keep me in it, I've decided I have to pick a team. Let's see: The models are bland, and I can never, ever cheer for the young athletic dudes. It would be like cheering for the Yankees. The Chos are hopeless. I can't cheer for incompetence. Bama is outclassed. The McBickers are entertaining but far from likeable. Not much to work with there. That leaves the Blondies. Yes, they're sketchy. Yes, it's off-putting how they refer to Team Bama as "The Sistas" behind their backs. Yes, they're Beauty Queens (lame). But dammit, they're competing. And they're competing with glee. They act like they actually want to win. So that's that: against all odds, I'm going with Team T&A.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Having an average weekend
What is an average weekend? It goes something like this:
Saturday morning: Henry and I head to our "Music Together" class for an hour of singing and dancing. The teacher this fall is new, and not quite as engaging as the previous instructor. But today the class goes pretty well. When we're done, we get back into the car and head for the grocery store to tackle the weekend's big chore. It used to be impossible to shop with Henry because he'd refuse to sit in the cart. But these days he's fine with it. As long as I give him a raisin pita to munch on and hand each item of food to him for inspection before dropping it in the cart, he actually seems to enjoy the errand. We arrived at the giant Loblaw's right around 11 a.m., and while I was babbling away to Henry and scanning my list, I slowly realized that everyone else in the store was standing perfectly still, silent, with their head bowed down. I was weirded out for a second, then it hit me: Remembrance Day! Moment of Silence at 11:11! Oops! I stopped in my tracks and told Henry to hush. He responded by yelling LALALALALALA-LA-LA! Oh well. He's two. What can you do?
Saturday afternoon: Blah blah housework. Blah blah freelance work. Blah blah entertain Henry. Same old same old. But today, an exciting twist: Tom's new colleague is having a dinner party. Everyone invited has small children, so it starts at 4 p.m. We have fun, although I spend the first half of the party filled with envy at the guy's house. It's nice. As in, they gutted the interior of an old character house and pimped the place out with high-end fixtures and a gourmet kitchen. How does an assistant professor swing this, I wonder. Turns out the guy's wife is a doctor. Ah. Anyway, we enjoy the company. Really good food. And Henry always loves playing with another kid's toys.
Saturday evening: We leave the party around 7:30. Even though we're the first to leave, staying that "late" means we're pushing it with Henry's bedtime. We gamble and lose. Henry's in a great mood until we walk in the door. Then he kicks off a 3-alarm tantrum, refusing to sit down in the bath and demanding to be put back in the clothes he wore to the dinner party instead of his pajamas. We comply, because this is one of those times it's just not worth the fight. After much hollering he settles in to sleep, and Tom and I settle in to watch our favorite show, Battlestar Galactica (don't laugh--it's awesome).
Sunday morning: Henry wakes up at 7 a.m. At least we don't have to get him dressed this morning. For some reason, he will not let me come downstairs with him most mornings. Daddy Only is the hard and fast rule. Upside: I get to sleep in. Downside: Henry expresses his preference by stating, "I not love you, Mommy!" Thanks, kid. I don't take him at his word. I've heard it all before. I'm allowed downstairs after an hour or so. And he loves me again, too.
Sunday mid-morning: Tom heads out for his weekend jog. Henry and I make a batch of blue play-do. Once that gets boring we put on our coats and head down to the canal to feed the ducks. Good fun. We head home and bake up some cookies from the dough I made a few days ago. Playtime. Watch Jakers.
Sunday afternoon: Henry's getting antsy, so Tom decides to take him to the newly remodeled Canadian Museum of Nature to see the dinosaurs. It's a long walk, but they set out on foot. I stay home. Blah blah housework. Why am I such a slob? Why can't I keep a single surface in my home uncluttered? What is that crust on our good leather chair? Ahhhh! Blah blah laundry. Blah blah freelancing. Tom and Henry get home late in the afternoon. More playtime. Let him watch the hyper-annoying Go, Diego, Go while I get dinner ready. Chicken stir fry. Henry has spaghetti. He wants to hear "Baby Beluga" before bed. I cue it up and we dance. Bathtime, storytime and bedtime go very smoothly. Tom and settle in to watch our second favorite show, The Amazing Race (for anyone who cares, I'll do a recap tomorrow). Some blogging, then off to bed.
And that about does it.
Saturday morning: Henry and I head to our "Music Together" class for an hour of singing and dancing. The teacher this fall is new, and not quite as engaging as the previous instructor. But today the class goes pretty well. When we're done, we get back into the car and head for the grocery store to tackle the weekend's big chore. It used to be impossible to shop with Henry because he'd refuse to sit in the cart. But these days he's fine with it. As long as I give him a raisin pita to munch on and hand each item of food to him for inspection before dropping it in the cart, he actually seems to enjoy the errand. We arrived at the giant Loblaw's right around 11 a.m., and while I was babbling away to Henry and scanning my list, I slowly realized that everyone else in the store was standing perfectly still, silent, with their head bowed down. I was weirded out for a second, then it hit me: Remembrance Day! Moment of Silence at 11:11! Oops! I stopped in my tracks and told Henry to hush. He responded by yelling LALALALALALA-LA-LA! Oh well. He's two. What can you do?
Saturday afternoon: Blah blah housework. Blah blah freelance work. Blah blah entertain Henry. Same old same old. But today, an exciting twist: Tom's new colleague is having a dinner party. Everyone invited has small children, so it starts at 4 p.m. We have fun, although I spend the first half of the party filled with envy at the guy's house. It's nice. As in, they gutted the interior of an old character house and pimped the place out with high-end fixtures and a gourmet kitchen. How does an assistant professor swing this, I wonder. Turns out the guy's wife is a doctor. Ah. Anyway, we enjoy the company. Really good food. And Henry always loves playing with another kid's toys.
Saturday evening: We leave the party around 7:30. Even though we're the first to leave, staying that "late" means we're pushing it with Henry's bedtime. We gamble and lose. Henry's in a great mood until we walk in the door. Then he kicks off a 3-alarm tantrum, refusing to sit down in the bath and demanding to be put back in the clothes he wore to the dinner party instead of his pajamas. We comply, because this is one of those times it's just not worth the fight. After much hollering he settles in to sleep, and Tom and I settle in to watch our favorite show, Battlestar Galactica (don't laugh--it's awesome).
Sunday morning: Henry wakes up at 7 a.m. At least we don't have to get him dressed this morning. For some reason, he will not let me come downstairs with him most mornings. Daddy Only is the hard and fast rule. Upside: I get to sleep in. Downside: Henry expresses his preference by stating, "I not love you, Mommy!" Thanks, kid. I don't take him at his word. I've heard it all before. I'm allowed downstairs after an hour or so. And he loves me again, too.
Sunday mid-morning: Tom heads out for his weekend jog. Henry and I make a batch of blue play-do. Once that gets boring we put on our coats and head down to the canal to feed the ducks. Good fun. We head home and bake up some cookies from the dough I made a few days ago. Playtime. Watch Jakers.
Sunday afternoon: Henry's getting antsy, so Tom decides to take him to the newly remodeled Canadian Museum of Nature to see the dinosaurs. It's a long walk, but they set out on foot. I stay home. Blah blah housework. Why am I such a slob? Why can't I keep a single surface in my home uncluttered? What is that crust on our good leather chair? Ahhhh! Blah blah laundry. Blah blah freelancing. Tom and Henry get home late in the afternoon. More playtime. Let him watch the hyper-annoying Go, Diego, Go while I get dinner ready. Chicken stir fry. Henry has spaghetti. He wants to hear "Baby Beluga" before bed. I cue it up and we dance. Bathtime, storytime and bedtime go very smoothly. Tom and settle in to watch our second favorite show, The Amazing Race (for anyone who cares, I'll do a recap tomorrow). Some blogging, then off to bed.
And that about does it.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Odds and ends
We had our first bit of snowfall on Sunday. It melted away by noon, but that gave us time to get out and make a few snowballs with the damp accumulation on the front porch. Henry definitely remembers snow, and he couldn't wait to get outside and play in it. I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot of time outdoors this winter, which is why I bought a down-filled coat last week. I may even have to get a pair of snowpants--soon.
The weekend before last I made a quick trip down to South Florida to see my friend Tammy. We had a nice visit. Unfortunately it rained the day we'd planned to go to the beach, but I did manage to dip my toes into the surf on the sunny morning before I flew home. I also went on a major shopping spree at Target. Sigh. I can't tell you how much I miss that store. There's nowhere up here where I can buy a decent, stylish pair of casual pants for $20. I constantly have sticker shock when I shop in Canada.
I plan to write a little piece later this week about Henry, in honour of his reaching the 2.5 year marker. I have lots of positive things to say. In the meantime, though, I just have to vent a bit and say that lately my darling boy has been a bit. . . BRATTY! Most of it is garden variety toddler behavior (is there a 2 year old anywhere who likes getting dressed?), but we're also experiencing more frequent outbusts and tantrums when Henry doesn't get his way. The funny thing is how subtle the line can be between normal toddler exuberance and what we characterize as misbehavior. I suppose it must be confusing to Henry. I mean, how does a young child learn to distinguish that a) throwing a ball is good fun, b) throwing all the pieces of a puzzle on the floor merits a stern look but is no big deal (in our house, at least), but c) throwing a hard plastic toy at Mommy is totally unacceptable? Isn't it all throwing? Of course not, but how to do you explain that to a toddler? Anyway, we're trying to figure out an effective way to teach/discipline him when he crosses that line. It's a challenge. Henry's old enough to understand that certain things are not allowed, but he doesn't yet have reliable impulse control. So I feel like I'm spending a lot of time saying, "No!" and "Don't do that" and otherwise policing his behavior. It's very tiring. We plan to start toilet training soon, and I haven't seen any signs to suggest that process will go smoothly, so between that, the discipline and our never-ending bedtime issues, I think we're going to be taking our lumps as parents over the next few months. Oh well--it's what we signed up for. And there's plenty of fun stuff to make up for the hard stuff. I swear.
The weekend before last I made a quick trip down to South Florida to see my friend Tammy. We had a nice visit. Unfortunately it rained the day we'd planned to go to the beach, but I did manage to dip my toes into the surf on the sunny morning before I flew home. I also went on a major shopping spree at Target. Sigh. I can't tell you how much I miss that store. There's nowhere up here where I can buy a decent, stylish pair of casual pants for $20. I constantly have sticker shock when I shop in Canada.
I plan to write a little piece later this week about Henry, in honour of his reaching the 2.5 year marker. I have lots of positive things to say. In the meantime, though, I just have to vent a bit and say that lately my darling boy has been a bit. . . BRATTY! Most of it is garden variety toddler behavior (is there a 2 year old anywhere who likes getting dressed?), but we're also experiencing more frequent outbusts and tantrums when Henry doesn't get his way. The funny thing is how subtle the line can be between normal toddler exuberance and what we characterize as misbehavior. I suppose it must be confusing to Henry. I mean, how does a young child learn to distinguish that a) throwing a ball is good fun, b) throwing all the pieces of a puzzle on the floor merits a stern look but is no big deal (in our house, at least), but c) throwing a hard plastic toy at Mommy is totally unacceptable? Isn't it all throwing? Of course not, but how to do you explain that to a toddler? Anyway, we're trying to figure out an effective way to teach/discipline him when he crosses that line. It's a challenge. Henry's old enough to understand that certain things are not allowed, but he doesn't yet have reliable impulse control. So I feel like I'm spending a lot of time saying, "No!" and "Don't do that" and otherwise policing his behavior. It's very tiring. We plan to start toilet training soon, and I haven't seen any signs to suggest that process will go smoothly, so between that, the discipline and our never-ending bedtime issues, I think we're going to be taking our lumps as parents over the next few months. Oh well--it's what we signed up for. And there's plenty of fun stuff to make up for the hard stuff. I swear.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Halloween Recap
Here's Henry's official take on Trick or Treating: "This is the best thing ever!" He actually said that. Several times. We went around the neighborhood with his friend Jensen, who was dressed as Bob The Builder. The neighbors were happy to see us and very generous with the candy treats. Henry collected way more junk than I was expecting. It's been sorted (I think he's too young to have suckers and gummy candies--we can't brush his teeth well enough) and hidden away, with acceptable items to be doled out slowly. Henry should get a reasonable cut of the loot after his work-from-home mom works through the stash.
The residents one block over went all out, closed off the street and threw a block party, with games, prizes and decorations. It was quite the scene. We went over for a few minutes, but after awhile the crowd of kids in scary costumes started bothering Henry and he got all clingy. Still, we had fun. Henry did his Old MacDonald dance for anyone who asked. Very cute.
The residents one block over went all out, closed off the street and threw a block party, with games, prizes and decorations. It was quite the scene. We went over for a few minutes, but after awhile the crowd of kids in scary costumes started bothering Henry and he got all clingy. Still, we had fun. Henry did his Old MacDonald dance for anyone who asked. Very cute.
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