It has been a while since I have been able to spare the time to post anything here. Not that I haven't woken up at 2.30 am and thought of something witty and urbane to post...only to totally forget whatever it was and be inundated with life in the latter morning.

After coming back from our visit to Winnipeg, I have been busy getting things together for Sasha's 3rd Birthday 3 Day Extravaganza. That coupled with the outings to the park to take advantage of the great weather...well, there are only so many waking hours in a day.

Our visit to see Gord was short and sweet, unlike him..hahahaha. Kidding. He is a big (huge) teddy bear as far as I am concerned. As usual, we ate out every night. Not that I didnt offer to cook, but hey, I wasnt going to push it. We usually end up at the usual restaurants (Greek, Fusion, Thai, Grill), although this time we had a special treat at a restaurant that is owned by the son of someone Gord helped ages ago. Instead of choosing our meal from the menu, we left the decision up to the owner..so out came an antipasto platter, lobster bisque and an entree comprising lobster, fillet Mignon, foie gras, monk fish and some other fish I had never heard off but hey, I trusted the guy. It was a fun dinner and not only because of the quality of the food and excellent service, but to see the pride on Gord's face as it was his presence that enabled us to get the extraordinary service.



When we were not out eating, we stayed at home playing pool in the basement, fooling around on the piano an just watching TV. For us it was a holiday, unlike the ones we take when we travel and need to get out there and do things.







On our last day we attended the kids' cousin Emily's birthday. Sasha was the youngest girl there but that didnt stop her from trying to emulate the "big girls". There was cookie decorating, swimming and bowling after. Fun.










Hopefully we will be able to get back to Winnipeg soon. The last time we were there it was in May for Aunt Hilda's funeral...how time flies.

Sasha is going in for her dentist's appointment this afternoon. I am waiting for the repairman to replace the control board for the oven (In my next life I am going to do repairs..$80 for the call out, $25 for every 15 minutes, and tip. Lets not talk about the cost of the control panel which is $400..luckily it is still under warranty.) My Phil & Ted is in the shop as the wheel came off. It has been wonky since its last flight. Must remember to claim damages from Air Canada. Busy, busy, busy...

Academics are a funny lot. We all know the old adage, publish or perish. Among academics however there is also the I publish therefore I am. I am cited, therefore I continue to be. To give you an idea of how deeply ingrained this is, I will take Profs X and Y. Prof X has just moved here from the States with his family. He needed help getting a pediatrician as he was not familiar with the Canadian system. Because medical is "free", it really isnt just a matter of walking into an office and showing your health card. First you have to find a doctor who is taking new patients. Not so easy as the good ones have long wait lists. Then ideally you find one that isnt 30 miles away in some dodgy neighbourhood especially since you will be seeing the pediatrician least 20 times the first year alone. Sometimes you get lucky but more often than not you have to get an existing patient to "recommend" you..yup, cronyism survives in socialist systems. So I was recommended by a neighbour and I in turn recommended Prof X. I wondered why he was keen on seeing Dr F as he doesnt live in the neighbourhood. But hey, whatever rocks his boat. So last night D hitched a ride from Prof Y from the airport. During the ride it seems that Prof Y was hinting that he needed to change pediatricians. D did some digging and found out that Prof X had told Prof Y that Dr F is apparently not only a good pediatrician but more importantly, he is published, and even more significant, he is also very much cited due to the relevance of his research. D thinks I am genius for finding a published and cited pediatrician.I am not about to tell him that the extent on my criteria for choosing Dr F was that he be less than 2 blocks away. I am definitely not an academic at heart.

Its not often that I meet someone that totally rubs me the wrong way. If I must say so myself, I am pretty easy going and can get along pretty much with everyone I meet. This afternoon, while I was in the front yard having a chat with a couple of neighbours while watching the kids play with what we hope to be the last of the snow, I noticed a lady who had just moved into a house nearby. We all said the usual hellos and she stayed to chat. It all started well, and we discovered she had just moved from the States. Then after a while she started whinging about things. I hate whingers. I just feel like telling the whinger to suck it up. The conversation turned to us all becoming frugalistas, and she-formerly-of-the-US started complaining how bad service was in TO (its a big city stupid), how small the houses are (for what you can afford you mean) and how expensive things were (where were you living? Hicksville?). She went on this rant about how expensive milk is here. I mean...I can understand if you find settling in difficult, we have all been there, done that, bought the T-Shirt, but to rant and bitch about milk of all things in the presence of some obviously increasingly irate Canadians you know from Adam..well, that is just plain stupid. But on and on she went about the expensive milk, the packaging, the taste. I really couldn't say much in defense of Canadian milk because 1) I have only lived here less than a couple of years and 2) I take lactose-free milk so I have no idea how much her milk costs. Funnily enough, one of the nicer neighbours kindly, through gritted teeth, pointed out that milk in the US is genetically modified and Canada forbids the sale of GM food. Perhaps that may explain the price differential? She placated the lady by telling her that it does take most Americans time to get used to "safe" milk ...hahahahaha..I nearly laughed out loud at that. The less nicer neighbours had already ignored her for ages and was conversing amongst themselves..probably bitching about her. She excused herself pretty soon after that but I suspect we will not be seeing her at any of the local gatherings soon. Apparently her husband is also an ass.

Sasha asked me last night as we were reading her bedtime books in my bed where we got Daddy from? I asked her to explain the question. She asked if we bought him at the store. I explained to her that no, I met Daddy. She asked again if I went with her to get Daddy at the store because she didnt remember. I explained to her again that I met Daddy in Cambridge and then after that we made her. She sounded a bit confused so I had to explain that we were in existence before her, then we made her ourselves. I dont know what upset her more, the idea that we didnt go shopping for Daddy or that we were there/are here before her. She is very competitive and she has to be first at everything (she does not get that from me). So this morning I called up a company that builds, maintains and harvests small home vegetable plots. I have been getting Sasha involved in making Dylan's food, in making dinner and baking, to get her used to the idea that we dont always eat at restaurants. I guess the next step is to make it clear to her that not everything can or should be bought at the corner store (not Daddies, and sometimes not veggies). I am fully aware that I could never maintain a vegetable patch so I am calling in the professionals. She doesnt have to know that we are not planting and maintaining the gardens ourselves. I will arrange for the maintenance people to come in while she is at daycare and as far as she is concerned the veggies are growing with our love and sweat equity. Now to prepare myself for the "What do you mean you made me?" question...

They grow so very fast..

It is about that time to start planning Sasha's birthday party. Her 3rd. Her first comprised us and 2 other couples toasting our successfully keeping her alive for 365 days with 3 bottles of champers. Her second party was a bit more lively with the neighbours sharing a brunch. Her third will be different in that it is now more difficult to entertain a bunch of nearly-threes in our teeny-tiny home, so we are splitting the difference. The plan is to entertain the kids at Sasha's gymnastics studio for a couple of hours on Saturday evening (Booked in December for April party). As the party will end at 6pm, it really wouldnt be fair to have the 4 or 5 sets of parents agonize over dinner plans so we are thinking an after party at ours...a quick dose of sushi and wine...then off to bed for the hopefully knackered kids. Beauty is that the after party will probably only be an hour as most of the kids here sleep at 7pm..and we can get the sushi delivered so no real effort on our parts, except to enjoy Sasha's special day. But as they say, the best laid plans...The only problem is that she has requested a dinosaur/Nemo theme. I just know that if I start preparations this early, she will want to have a Princess themed party oh say, 3 hours before her party. But too late, and I will not be able to get a baker to sort out a co-mingling of dinos and fish on a cake, which also has to be nut-free (but not kosher as birthday is on the sabbath anyway) and gluten free. Decisions, decisions...

May the force be with him

I was just going through some pics to upload on Facebook when I realized that I should upload a couple here. These pictures were taken at Dylan's cukur jambul held at my aunts house in PJ (a suburb of KL). It was joint cukur jambul with her granddaughter, my cousin's daughter, Eva Zahara. I figured it was to be a small affair as they were both second kids. Did not factor in his Grandma being in charge of the guest list.



The upside was that we were able to catch up with practically half the family in one afternoon, which was good as we flew to Phuket a couple of days after. So Dylan was able to say a warm hello to his great-grandma..





Get a brief light saber lesson from his ever helpful Uncle...he is a Jedi after all..



Get his first trim..I mean , when else will your barber use solid gold scissors..



Play with Tot..



Most importantly, the sibblings were all there to celebrate with Dylan.

Why we do what we do

You may be wondering why I am so morbidly obsessed with squaring things off for my kids. Well, as they say, blame it on my childhood. My Mummy died when I was 12 and my bio-brother 10. She had a will drafted on her deathbed appointing our guardians (she didn't want us to live with our father...whole nother story altogether) and specifying that all assets be distributed as per Shariah law ie 2/3 for my brother and 1/3 for me. To make up for the inequality, all her jewelry and that she inherited from her grandmother and mother would be given to me. She died a couple of days after signing the will. To give you an idea of the problems we were to face later, my brother and I, who held vigil at her bed, were instructed by my father and my Mummy's friends to never leave her alone as they suspected that her sisters and their kids and other relatives would draft a "will" of their own and have my mother place a thumbprint. We made sure that my mother was not left alone and luckily there was only one will that was used to salvage whatever assets possible and more importantly to ensure that we would not be forced to live with my mother's relatives. My father had no problem with not getting a share as some father's may have had. He loved us, and still does, but he had his own issues to deal with. The jewelry that Mummy had the foresight to place in safekeeping with my appointed guardians I still have and wear today. The jewelry that was handed down to her by her grandmother and mother was kept for safekeeping with her sister. I have no idea what happened to them. Some jewelry that she had bought specifically for me before she died, that I can remember, like a set of Mikimoto pearl earrings, an Italian tri-coloured gold bracelet and necklace, my aunt kept while Mummy was in the hospital. I recall seeing my cousin wear them right after Mummy's death. I was 12. Raised to respect my elders. I held my tongue. I hope that bitch rots in hell. Most of Mummy's assets were land-based. Her parents were rather well off land owners in Perak, a fertile state. Unfortunately, alot of the lands had not had title transferred as her sister dealt with all those mundane issues..Mummy just collected her monthly/annual rents. When she died, I was asked to open an account so that rent monies could be transferred directly. Suffice it to say, the account was left idle. I do remember being asked to go back once to Perak to visit the family, and against my father's advice, I went. The visit mainly consisted of they family bitching about my father and asking me to take some money out from the account to pay for prayers for my Mummy at her grave..a couple of thousand dollars...so much for doing it for brownie points. It was at that bank that I decided that my mother's family could fuck off and die. I was 15..young, but not freaking stupid. But still, I held my tongue.

I didn't have anything to do with them until my brother came of age and he wanted to get things sorted out. He was more keen to meet up with the family etc. I went along with it because I felt he needed to figure out his relationship with them in his own way. My father again told us to just cut our losses. My bro was surprised that after all these years, we had not received any rental monies, and none of the taxes on the lands had been paid. He began to come to the realisation that we had been buggered all those years. So he and I decided to try and get as much as we could liquidated and write off the whole branch of our family tree. The first deal involved selling off a small piece of land somewhere in the state for 300 grand. We figured if things went well we would just continue to sell everything and not have to see the family again. Well, things didn't turn out that way. Mummy's sister brokered the deal as she needed the money. Bro was by then living overseas so I had power of attorney and dealt with my Aunt's attorneys. We were surprised at the amount we received as we were expecting a tad more. So when I went to the lawyer's office to pick up the cheque I asked why this was so. Apparently, my aunt charged us 30 grand for expenses. 5 grand for hotels and 1 grand in taxi fares. Mind you, although she lives in KL, the land is in the freaking boonies so she would have been hard pressed to get a presidential suite for that amount. The lawyer mentioned that the expenses were incurred in Penang..a small island where her daughter, my cousin lives. 1 grand in taxi fares?? The lawyer just shrugged and said that Datin (yup, my bloody aunt had a title)specified the expenses. The only saving grace was that she screwed other members of the family too. And then, get this, as I was freaking boiling, the lawyer had the audacity to ask if I could introduce her to my father Datuk J just in case he needed a lawyer for his deals. She then went on to discuss a few other pieces of land that my aunt wanted to sell. I fuckin lost it, just lost it, at that stage. I smiled, and told her that it was extremely unlikely that my father would want to meet her because he absolutely and unequivocally detests my aunt and every other member of my Mummy's family. So therefore, by relation, he would pretty much hate her too. She looked surprised and then asked why my father would feel that way. I pointed out that my aunt just screwed us around for this one deal, and imagine what she has been doing to us all those years. So no, in answer to her question, we will not deal with any member of the family for any future sales and she can tell my aunt that as far as were were concerned, the family is dead to us. I walked out then and my brother and I, to this day, have refused to have anything to do with them. I felt so good about finally saying something that I gave my bro the whole amount. As my father said later, its better to leave the land to the monkeys than to be treated like a monkey.

On Monday, the same day that we had 80 cupcakes delivered in the form of a 4 foot tiered arrangement to my Father-in-law's office for his birthday, we met with our lawyer to finalize our wills. Hopefully we will also one day receive an abundance of baked good on our 80th birthdays from our kids, but just in case, we had to make arrangements.

We learned so much from L. First, we had to make sure that we had named beneficiaries for all insurance policies, pension policies and other investment accounts. If not, the monies will be given to the estate first and probate taxes charged on top of usual taxes. We also had to name the kids as alternate beneficiaries. We need not identify personal items to be disbursed in the will, but instead all such wishes be listed in a Letter of Wishes which shall be signed and witnessed and attached to the will. We had to also draft a living will in the event both of us are incapacitated and needed an adult to make health decisions or decide to pull the plug so to speak. We also needed to give power of attorneys to our executors to handle our funds when we are incapacitated. Good idea to not have the same person or persons with both living will and asset power of attorneys...duh. We had identified the guardians, executors and health decider, but we had not thought of alternates for such people in the event something happens to them. It was actually kind of difficult to think of people who we knew would do these things for us. We were also told to attach to the will summary documentation about all assets and investments. According to L, while we were thinking of dying in a plane crash, it is more probable that we will die in a house fire and as such all our documentation will be destroyed so to be safe, copies must be kept with the lawyers. We were also asked what would happen if all 4 of us perished together. We have decided to have our executors use the estate to set up a scholarship fund, if possible, at Cambridge University in Sasha and Dylan's name. That is where D and I met, and it would be a legacy that Sash and Din Din would be proud off.

D is in Amsterdam for a few days so I am a single mum again. I think I shall take this opportunity to try and get Dylan to sleep through the night. Good luck to me.

Lots of crafts

The Lion is roaring before the Lamb so we have been staying in with craft sessions galore. So far we have painted a tea set.







Lots of painting...



Drawing...





and just basic clowning around.









Spring where the hell are you???