Social Event of the Season

This makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside … to come across, in dear old Blogland, a post about a story I wrote. The blogger is Rebecca Rosenblum, who read at the New Quarterly launch several weeks ago, and whom I’d heard last year, too. She’s a young writer with a unique voice and vision. You won’t feel like you’re reading something ordinary or done-before when you read her. Her first collection of stories is called Once, and I’ve got a link to her blog Rose-coloured among the CanLit blogs listed on the right. (The book itself is still on my to-read list …).
In other news, have you been to the social event of the season yet? You know, the swarms of people lining up outside in the cold for hours on end to get … tickets to a U2 concert? … into the newest hot hot hot dance club? … the best ice cream ever invented? Would that it were so. Because at the end of this line-up is a brightly lit room packed with screaming babies and toddlers who had no idea that the climax of all this patient waiting would be a smiling nurse jabbing them with a needle. Whoo-hoo! Let me tell you, the fun never ends at the H1N1 clinics. I was reflecting on how waiting in a long line has a couple of effects, not necessarily good ones. Firstly, it makes you really want whatever you’re lined up for. It feels like there’s a shortage, and dammit, you’re going to get this THING that everyone else wants too–or else! Which, secondly, makes you really resent those queue jumpers slipping semi-apologetically (or not) into the lineup ahead of you. Thankfully, I was able to pull myself back and analyze these negative impulses, and go, hey, I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to coddle my mean-spirit, instead I’m going to be grateful, because the sun is shining, it’s quite mild, the kids are behaving, no one’s pushing or yelling, and the women working the clinic are super-friendly. Life’s too short to wallow. And as we were walking back to our car (hours later, car parked miles away, CJ screaming apoplectically because he wanted to stand on the stroller WHEEL and Could Not Understand Why mean mommy wouldn’t let him), along romped the cutest wee puppy, off her leash and squirmy and delightful, and we all got down and petted her and let her lick us and leap all over us, and everything felt much much better. Maybe Apple-Apple will get her wish after all. Maybe a dog is in our family’s future. Okay, distant future. But maybe.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the above photo is a random shot of our kitchen floor. CJ’s fave new play area. He drags out every pot and pan in the house, grunting “heaby, heaby” (heavy). I just opened a drawer to discover a flattened purple stuffed duck in a frying pan, underneath a glass lid. Must get a photo of that.

Exhibit Number One
Moms Are Feminists Too

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