First of all:
i came up with this idea 13 years ago. i still think it’s funny.
Happy Canada Day
I like change. I know it isn’t always obvious, especially not when I’m next to my free-wheeling brother, for whom change is the only constant (as it was for at least 2 of my mother’s 5 brothers). I suppose I should qualify it by saying that I like change on my own terms. I grow long fingernails with little effort, but I refuse to keep them at a steady length: when they get in the way of typing I ruthlessly cut them to the quick. When I’m ready to cut my hair, it all comes off. My dresses are ridiculously old-fashioned feminine, when I’m not wearing frayed cut-offs and band t-shirts with uncombed hair. I love summer, right up until the first whiff of fall.
And although the first weeks of summer can be a non-stop stress-fest as I adjust to life as a full-time mum, I like the fact that my working year stops cold, with no trailing off. Classes give way to intense exams, hours of marking lead to frantic cleaning of rooms and desks, finished off by an emotional end of the year that makes me glad for a few days off from my beloved Bat Masterson family. (This year we will be reuniting at Centre Island tomorrow, proving that we can’t even spend a week apart. Lame.)
When I’m not grading essays, calculating marks, counselling last-minute Larrys who want to give me a bunch of missing work on the last day (or possibly dropping it off at my house during the summer), I’m trying not to cry at the prospect of the inevitable departures. Some of my co-workers are squeezed out by the brutal economics of employment and seniority; others move up to new schools, increased responsibilities, board-wide positions, headships, vice-principal-ships; still others retire or go back to school. The partings are always heavy, and I’m often busting my ass to finish a farewell project at the same time.
This may be why I ran only once in the month of June. After my race on the first, it seemed like I blinked and it was July. I was sick for a few weeks, yes. School finished, yes. We have a new farmer’s market job, yes. Still, I can’t believe that it took me this long to break the 1k barrier. My body, however, was ready to remind me in every laboured breath and the heavy feeling of Doom that settled in my spirit and legs. Holy Christ, did it suck. The only thing that sucks more is the prospect of giving up the easy affirmation of my running friends, so it looks like I’ve got another date with Doom in a few days.
Maggie is not reacting well to the changes brought on by two parents suddenly at home all the time. She’s a girl who loves her routines, and loves her Grandparents even more; this is less a vacation than a grounding for her. In a spectacularly foolish move, I made things worse by getting my dad to convert her crib to a little bed yesterday. She celebrated by refusing to nap. Awesome.
She might not be napping in any case; we spent Saturday hanging around the market and Sunday at the Pride Parade, then Monday my dad took her out for a late lunch. She may think that naps have been called off for summer.
Speaking of the Pride Parade…
Not a lot to say. I wish I had gone when I was younger; it seems ridiculous that I’m nearly 40 for my first. Maggie is considerably farther ahead of the game.
We cheered, sweated and danced for a few hours before retreating back to Yorkdale for dinner. Maggie showed more enthusiasm for the subway train than the parade, but maybe she needs a year to get used to the idea of a big, hot, sparkly parade where people squirt her with water pistols and her love of rainbows is reflected in almost every other person in the immediate vicinity.