I love searching babies faces for traces of their parents and my baby is no exception. It’s obvious to anyone that he looks a lot like his father, but he does have my grandfather’s smile, something that I don’t think I have myself, though my mother does. And I have proof.

Here’s Noah, freshly hatched (and looking quite pleased with himself) beside a picture of my Mom’s brother Harvey, who also has Dedo’s smile:

And here’s the little hero beside an old pic of my Mom:

See? The same smiles! Like they know something you don’t. And, of course, here is Adam and Noah, both taken at two months old:

He has so much of Adam in his face that it is nice to see some glimpses of my influence.

Noah has a bit of a cold, so I asked Adam to pick up some Saline solution so I could clear is nose and help clear up his congestion. I asked him to get unmedicated drops since you aren’t supposed to use cold remedies on babies and a mist wouldn’t help wash out the gook. I wanted to make sure he got something suitable for use on small babies, but didn’t realize I may have told him the specifics a couple times too many until he returned home.

Me: “Did you get them?”

Adam: “Yup.”

Me: “Did you get the right kind? The ones for ba —”

Adam: “Saline rinse, drop form, unmedicated, mild solution,  recommended for occasional nasal congestion. And there’s a picture of a baby on it.”

Me: “Oh. Well, good.”

I may have taken it a bit too far. Today at dinner I actually caught Adam’s hesitation as he looked at the plastic wrap he just pulled off the raw ribs and the little flick of his eyes toward me told me he was running through the list of approved items he could throw away and he was thinking to make sure there was nothing I could make with the bloody plastic. That dear man had no idea he was marrying the recycling police when he uttered the fateful “I do” a year ago. He knows it now.

For a re-user like me there are only two days in the year we like as much as Christmas: Community Spring Cleaning Day. Yes, I know Spring is generally a ONCE per year event, but the creative minds at city hall couldn’t think of another name for the “Spring Cleaning” day in fall (I guess “Fall Cleaning” was taken?) so the October event in Oakville is also called spring cleaning. Spring Cleaning is the day when the City of Oakville allows you to curb your large items and appliances. But before the pick-up comes the prowl. Trolling down the street with wagons and pick-ups checking out everyone’s junk for a goldmine of their own. Our current city of Mississauga does not have this day and I miss it. One spring cleaning day we put a futon we did not need on the front lawn and timed how long until someone picked it up. 5 minutes and 45 seconds later we were trading bet money and shaking our heads. By the time the garbage truck comes there is little left for them to take.

It’s blog action day, and blogs all over the planet are posting their ideas for making the world a better place. I personally think the world would be a better place if there was less shit in it. Sorry, I don’t like to swear, but that’s what it is. More specifically, less one-time-use-specialized-consumer-trash-that-can-only-function-one- way-and-then-must-be-added-to-the-local-landfill-soup. Although I have a tendency to be a bit eccentric about it, I think it is helpful for us all to take a damn good look at the crap we generate. I know if you want to buy anything these days it is hard to avoid the blister-pack problem, but keeping the phrase “there’s gotta be something I can make with that” in my head is the way I fight global pollution, one broken toaster-oven at a time.

P.s…. do you realize how hard it was to write the “one-time-use…..” sentence above without automatically hitting the space bar between words? Try it… harder then you’d think. I’m just sayin’…

My sister-in-law is a gambler, one of the most dangerous poker minds I have known. I know this to be true even though I am not naive enough to try play against her because her prodigious talent has already helped her nab top prizes at local tournaments, casinos and the deadliest of home poker-night playing fields. It’s a funny thing for her to be good at too; Diane is a level-headed woman who does not take needless risks and doesn’t even play the lottery, as far as I know. But behind her fan of cards, staring a dealer in the eye, Diane can bluff, bet and beat the most battle-hardened of poker sharks.

How does she do it? She never looks like a threat. From what I have seen, Diane does not change her attitude around a table and people mistake the laughing eyes for naivety and the sweet smile as honesty (which is a virtue she possesses in large quantities – away from the table). And while she is dazzling you, she is putting her considerable mind to work, crushing with logic, a keen ability to sniff out a bluff, and a good sense of when to stop throwing chips.

Now, her twin brother (and my husband) on the other hand, has a lot to learn about gambling. He proved this to us one night as Emily, Colin, Adam and I were sitting on the brown couch watching a movie and we had the following conversation: (more…)

Adam’s beer can predict the future. And I don’t mean it makes him THINK he can predict the future, in the same way it makes him think he can dance, or think he is a stumbling, slurring chick magnet. Apparently, the beer itself has the ability to predict, and even influence future events.

Or so he says. He came upon this startling revelation during Saturday night’s Leaf game against The Canadiens. During a routine perusal of the fridge contents he realized he had 13 bottles of Sleeman’s on the bottom shelf. He knew the game was about to start and that his beloved Leafs needed every ounce of superstitious luck that could be mustered.

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A recent trip to my sister’s house had me musing on the debate of hotel room souvenir gathering. When we were in Disneyworld we took quite a few of the ornamental soaps and creams, simply because they had Mickey Mouse on them. Let’s face it, who can resist antibacterial hand soap in the shape of the most famous rodent on earth? The soaps had ended up as stocking stuffers for the family (cute or not, what else are you going to do with 15 tiny soaps?) and she had one proudly displayed in her guest bathroom.

This led me to ponder the varying ethical arguments for or against the act. There is something completely irresistible about little bottles of mouthwash, lotion and lavender 3-in-one shampoo, conditioner and body wash all lined up on the hotel bathroom counter. Many of us use them up and there is no issue. SOME of us, those who prefer their own brand of personal toiletries, will never use them, but the urge is still there to take the little offerings in the hope that we will have a use for them someday, or at least for the cute little bottles.

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The “Rules of Moving” according to Adam:

1. Get some boxes. Two or three really big ones should do. You can just put everything in then. Don’t worry if it is unmanageably heavy; you likely won’t be the one lifting it anyways.
2. If you have lots of books, put them all in one big box. This way you won’t lose any.
3. keep the contents of each box varied, so you don’t get bored with things from one room. Barbeque sauce in a box with the bath pouf and some shoes is a good example.
4. Check the box before you tape the box up to make sure there are no cats sleeping inside. If the one of your boxes is meowing, you forgot to check.
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Adam has the funniest habit of holding conversations with people while he is unconscious. He SEEMS to be lucid, but the content of these conversations is usually completely hilarious and he never remembers them.

Last night I came into bed about an hour and a half later than Adam. He opened his eyes, looked at me and then stood up. I asked him what he was doing and he said, “I don’t know, getting ready for bed.” I said, “but you’ve been asleep for the last hour and a half.” He looked at me and then looked down at himself and said, “I was wearing less clothes.” I asked if he thought someone had come while he was sleeping and put more clothes on him and he just said, “yeah,” and then got into bed and went back to sleep.

I think my favorite sleeptalking episode was one night about a year ago when I was reading beside him as he slept. He had been asleep for about an hour when he suddenly sat up, stretched and looked at me with that “I’M AWAKE!” look which means he really isn’t. I closed my book and asked him what he was doing. He looked around, leaned back on his pillow and put his arms behind his head. “Just… taking a break.” he answered.

“From… sleeping?” I asked.

Adam isn’t the only one of my current or former housemates who has done unexplainable things in the night. I remember sleeping in our room one night at Sixth & Elm when, at about 3 in the morning, Colin got up from the room he shared with Emily and came into our room. He sat on the sofa chair near the bed and was just staring into space. I got up on one elbow and quietly asked, “Uh, Colin? What are you doing?” He looked at me, threw up his arms and stalked out exclaiming “God! Can’t a guy just sit DOWN anymore?!”

And my favorite memory on this subject is walking out of my room late one night to see all the lights on and Emily and Colin with all the sheets off the bed, halfway through flipping their mattress. I commented on the fact that that was a weird thing to be doing at 4 am and Emily just said “Yes it is,” and Colin didn’t even look up. I guess it was hot and the mattress was sweaty, but neither of them was really clear on whose idea it was to flip it at 4 am and Colin doesn’t even remember doing it.

I am not immune to unusual night-time habits. Apparently I hum in my sleep, so Adam says and he has woken me up several times to show me the weird positions I sleep in, including on my back with my arms behind my head and my knees bent with one leg crossed over the other, as if I was relaxing on a beach.

With all this night-time activity, it’s no wonder we are all so tired during the day.

I am addicted to tools. Big power saws, little tiny jewellery hammers, even an eyelet setter can get my heart racing. And the more universal attachments for a tool, the more I want it, even if I don’t know what all the attachments are for. Knowing this, Colin wisely skipped the traditional necklace and earrings gift and bought me a brilliant circular saw for being the “best woman” (Is that what you call a female best man?) at his wedding.