make it six

i once wrote about the five pillars of adulthood. marriage. kids. job. car. mortgage. or something like that.

but now i'm ready to add a sixth item to that list: worry.

i worry all the time these days. i worry about a lot of things these days. hell, i worry about so many things these days that i can't even remember what it is i'm worried about half the time. but of all the things that i worry about, i worry about my kids the most. and money. and whether i'll even have enough money as my kids grow up. i worry about the vacations and the college tuition and the summer camps and the karate lessons and all the other things i want them to experience.

gulliver must travel

on sunday afternoon i was sprawled out in my youngest's brand new cot, alone, browsing the trials and tribulations splashed across the pages of hogtown's finest daily. now maybe it was the antihistamine i had just ingested, or maybe it was the laziness of the hour, but before long i was set adrift in la-la land, my mind resting peacefully as the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to even more minutes. bap. bang. boom. suddenly i was jolted to by the sound of patio chairs crashing against the cement wall of our walkout balcony. the wind must have picked up while i was down for the count. my upper half now upright, i peered out the sliding doors for signs of upturned furniture. confident that all was accounted for, i groggily laid my noggin atop my daughter's unlicensed snow white mini-pillow with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. ouch. once again i was startled to the point of rousing, but this time by the sting of uniqua's purple antenna poking me square in the eye. unimpressed by my little one's ubiquitous roster of backyardigan action figures, i rotated my frame 180 degrees... only to be met by the unfortunate sight of pablo's propeller-capped beanie. was there no respite from this nightmare of nickelodeon proportions? to the left lay tasha's flowery sundress. to the right austin's impish grin. and where, pray tell, was tyrone in this messy menagerie of beanie baby excess? perhaps the playful moose was not unlike myself, cowering in fear beneath the covers, for fear of stirring the lifelike dora and diego facsimiles resting peacefully at the foot of the bed.

it's all relative

lady one: are those your new hunter's? because they are absolutely to die for!

lady two: aren't they? and do you know what? they weren't even my first choice. but i just had to have a pair before i walked out of the store. so when the saleslady told me they were out of my size in my colour, i figured that i would just have to settle.

lady one: well, "settle" is certainly not the word i would use to describe those amazing boots. they are absolutely delicious.

lady two: they do look good on me, don't they?

lady one: absolutely delicious. speaking of which, have you broken the fast yet?

lady two: as a matter of fact, we have. last night alan and i and the kids dropped by richtree on the way home from my parents.

lady one: at the promenade?

lady two: no, silly. at bayview and york mills, of course. just around the corner from our new place.

lady one: oh, that's right. you moved a few months back, didn't you? so how's that working out for you?

lady two: well, not bad for the most part. i mean, we really did need the extra space. and crescent isn't too far away now.

lady one: oh, so the boys are still at crescent then? do they like it there? i mean, now that they're getting older and all?

lady two: you mean, because of the boys-only environment?

lady one: they aren't longing for the girls just yet?

lady two: well, i suppose they might as they get a little bit older. but they do have white pine in the summer. july and august, anyway. two months up north with the opposite sex is probably enough for them at this age.

lady one: yeah, you're probably right. so, do you have a chance to get up to mayfair anymore.

lady two: you mean, to swim?

lady one: or just to play a few rounds.

lady two: well, i did drop by the spa a few weeks back. after all, i do need something to help me relax.

if you listen really carefully, you can hear mr. sumner in the distance

overexposed

i saw a picture of myself the other day. a picture from a long time ago. i must have been about seven or eight years old. i was on the beach. in florida. with my family.

but the thing is... i have no memory of ever being on the beach. in florida. with my family.

my mom was in the picture. and my brother. and even my dad. but only briefly.

and it reminded me of my own family today. in a way. and how pictures never really tell the entire story. but only glimpses. into the past.

and just then, i was reminded of something my best friend passed on to me recently. about my own family. and about how important it is to build memories today. so that my kids can have something to look back on. tomorrow.

and i must admit that i looked kinda happy in that picture. like i was enjoying myself. like i was enjoying my time with my family. on the beach. in florida.

tv or not tv... that is the question

alright, so my television has been on the fritz going on almost 72 hours now. and i must admit that at first i was kinda enamoured by the unexpected turn of events. i mean hey, i figured that at the very least, i would have a little more time to read now. a little more time to think. more time to breathe. more time to... oh, who the hell am i kidding, man? look, i gotta have my fix, man. i gotta have my storage wars, man. and my weather channel updates. and my tmz weekend recaps. and my dancing with the stars results episodes.

yes, i know. i know. i am weak. i am mortal. i am human.

with an h

the production of sleeping beauty had come to town, or more accurately, to yonge and sheppard. we arrived a little early at the theatre, if you can call it a theatre. once there she took up her usual seat at the front of the room, on a huge white pillow, immediately adjacent to the aisle. i, on the other hand, retreated to my humble viewing post at the rear of the modest hall. and when the houselights were finally dimmed, i once again began to worry that this time she might finally be called up onto the stage, as is the custom at events such as these. only this time my worst fears were actually realized. about midway through the show the young ingenue playing the title character called for a volunteer to join her at the front of the auditorium. "keep your hand down, keep your hand down," i murmured under my breath. but my whispers must have fallen on deaf ears. for the first hand that shot up was the one sticking out from the purple pullover i had placed on the back of my youngest not two hours prior. "what about you, honey?" came the request from the voice under the unconvincing blonde wig. she jumped to her feet and sprinted onto the podium. the princess proceeded to ask for my daughter's name. silence. followed by even more silence. followed by an uncomfortable groan from one of the more tactless members of the assembled masses. within seconds the spotlight began to take its toll. her hands rolled up in front of her eyes. she began to squint. she winced and she shrugged. she didn't want to be on that stage any longer. "just say your name and get off the stage," i murmured under my breath. but this time, thankfully, the g-ds must have been listening. she must have been listening. because just as she was about to be hustled off the stage by the impatient aurora, she picked up her chin and uttered the response to the query she had responded to hundreds of times before. "hannah."

if you don't eat your meat you can't have any pudding

it happened the other day. i was standing at the head of the room. and i was doing what i normally do. i was jotting something down on the board. and then it happened. suddenly i was no longer inside my body. suddenly i found myself outside my body. suddenly i was on the outside looking in. and how bizarre i must have looked. just standing there. just standing there with a piece of chalk in my right hand. attempting to explain some esoteric principle or another. attempting to shed light on that which defies lightness. attempting to justify my presence at the head of the room. yet this was not the first time i had escaped my own body. not the first time i had found myself grappling with my own presence. not the first time i had experienced a momentary bout of other-worldliness. but this was the first time i had ever caught myself with a piece of chalk in my right hand. and so for a brief interlude in time, i was able to glimpse myself in the act. in the act of actually doing something. not something particularly noble necessarily. nor particularly profound for that matter. but something.

so this is what i do.