Last October, i gave away a ton of clothes to my sister while she was up here visiting. The clothes had been hiding under the stairs in storage, giving me grief. Because those clothes were for the skinnier body i used to have. The ton of clothes i gave her probably weighed far less than the ton of weight i have been carrying around with me needlessly throughout these past six years.

GASP! i gained weight during my pregnancy with Sandrine.
DOUBLE GASP BATMAN! i gained even more weight during my pregnancy with Nathan.
And i have not been able to get rid of it.

Until last October.

Something snapped inside of me. Shoving those bags of clothes into my sister’s trunk was a catharsis, a realization that i had no where to go but up – or down, if you want to be funny. i have been embarrassed for the longest time. i’ve been especially angry with every skinny girl i meet, envious of calf boots & leggings, sad that riding a bike with the kids had me breaking out in hives.

So my secret, for these past 7 months, has been my weight loss. Which i thought i’d reveal until i was THERE, you know, that moment in time when you shrug, give yourself that satisfied smirk in the mirror, & go, Ok, this is good.

But i’m not there yet. i’ve lost 50 pounds so far, & while i let that sink in with you, let me just tell you that, embarrassingly enough, this is almost the halfway mark, but not quite.

Still, i am FIERCELY proud of my accomplishment so far. There is no way i am going back. But the reason i’m writing about it now is because i need your help. Up until April, it was relatively easy to shed the pounds. i’m not dieting; rather, i’m changing the way i eat food, the way i see it, the way i love it. But in times of stress, i find myself going back to the fat & sugar i used to love. The Spring months have not been good to my nerves (Hello, book launch! Hi, recipient of CEO award!). And so i haven’t been losing, & i have been grasping at what little motivation is left me.

This is where you guys come in. Give a girl some support. i don’t want to attend motivational groups, or read some blogs from people i don’t care about, or join in some discussion groups. i want those people i care about, those very same people who care about me & who care to come & read me, help me out. Because your ideas are what i need right now. i need to focus on me wearing tiny skirts again, sitting comfortably in a plastic patio chair, enjoying munching of carrot sticks, outrunning my kids, having supper in a restaurant booth, letting my man take pictures of me at any angle.

I’m glad we have this initiative, but i’m pissed that people, in this modern century, can still feel comfortable tossing a bag of chips into some bushes, or cigarette butts on the bike trail, or cups of beverages behind a few trees. And this, DESPITE the recycling bin and garbage can right at the curb. Those bad apples are really rotten, to say the least.

i’m overwhelmed with pride at how good my kids are at picking up garbage & refusing to loiter. We’re doing a damn good job of making them aware of the consequences of just chucking everything on the ground, & this activity only reinforces how great it is to take care of our planet.

First off, i need to point out that people are programmed to be groupies. i think we all have this wiring in our heads that make us a little giddy at having something no one else might quite possibly have, that encountering fame, even if it is a very, very short-lived fame, might brush off & multiply, like cockroaches in a wall, only more glamorous. Because when i arrived at the scene of the book launch, almost all of the thirteen authors were already there, mingling with folks from the publishing house & those from the organizing committee, in a very off-hand way. We were happy to be there, & it was very low-key.

That is, until the first groupies arrived. i use the term loosely: some were zealots, some were fans. But i certainly did not expect strangers to walk up to me with the book in their hands, & ask that i sign their copy. Which is what they did. i grew flustered, of course. And felt very foolish. What do you write to someone who has no idea who you are, who has most certainly not read your text, & is, quite possibly, only asking you to sign their anthology either to be polite, or to see how many signatures they can get before they go for their third round of free-wine-in-a-plastic-cup ? Have a great read! Thanks for coming! How do you spell Josette?

So yes, that embarrassed me. Carrying around my pen flustered me. Wearing a name tag so people would know i was one of the authors was disconcerting.

However, the great thing about it all was just the overall sense of feeling like someone worth knowing, like somebody special. Empowered by the rewards of hard work & a touch of luck, i signed those books to those strangers. i let others take my picture & didn’t cringe, knowing someone out there now has a picture of my bad side or red face or awful expression. But best of all, i had a group of people who came specifically to make this night even more special – family, friends, co-workers. My best friend drove five hours to surprise me at the book launch! My mother-in-law & Nam’s grandmother came down round-trip just for the event! And Nam stayed by my side the entire night, proud as punch, eyes smiling all the time.

So, thanks, everyone. Those who were able to come. Those who said they’d be there in thought. And for those who requested signed copies, you will be getting yours.

You can purchase the book at our local bookstore or from the publishing house for $19.95 or email me & i can most certainly try to get you a copy.

Last week you turned thirty-two months old, & this may just be the latest i have ever been in getting around to writing your newsletter. But! i have great excuses! None of which involve you, sadly enough. Suddenly you will come to realize that i have slowly stepped out of the bounds of your microcosm, & am someone more than just that crazy chick forcing you to eat tons of fruits before having anything sugary & chocolatey for dessert.

This is the month where, whenever i will look back on it, i will fondly refer to as the month you turned into The Flash, the fastest man alive. You have been so busy living life to the brim that i have been unable to take a single, decent picture of you these past thirty-one days. SERIOUSLY, STOP MOVING ALREADY. i wouldn’t say you’re abundantly super active, but you do love physical challenges, anything that will allow you to hang from your feet, to get you screaming with laughter, to have you flipped upside down.

You decided you’d drop your red tricycle like a hot potato, & put your moves on to your big sister’s old bike – the one with the training wheels, the pedal brakes but specifically, the 14-inch wheels. Let me point out to you that we got this bike for Sandrine when she was six months older than you, & a head taller. You’ve fallen off of it only once. You flinched, shrugged like it was no big deal. & then you reminded us about that one time you crashed your helicopter in Germany.

We signed you up for your first swimming lessons this month, which means every Sunday, you are at your happiest. i knew you’d like swimming, but i underestimated by about 300 % just how much. You’ve taken to swimming like, well, a duck to water, & your absolute favourite part is wearing your bathing cap (!) & going down the slide. In the space of just four short lessons, you’ve learned to jump into the water with pure abandonment, swim an entire lap without grabbing on to my suit & no longer sputter when you swallow water – now it’s a full head-on chlorinated burp.

You also got a steel red wagon from your grandparents, & if you could, you’d bring it in your bed along with your stuffed toys, you love it THAT much. We will have the cleanest street on the block if you continue to pick up stray rocks & throw them in your wagon. You’ve always loved pulling things, & this is no different. This evening when you took your bath, i suddenly realized that you’ve bulked up on your biceps. i’m thinking i may have to dress you in tight tees & little black fingerless gloves.

Coco, you may be all over the place during the day, but on those week-ends when we let you jump into our bed, you are all cuddles & coos & soft, baby breath. Your dad thinks you keep kicking the blankets to piss him off, but what he doesn’t know is that you & me ? We’re secretly tickling our noses under the sheets, holding hands in the quiet dawn, aligning our heartbeats. i know it won’t last, so i’m literally keeping it under wraps, & storing it for those times you’ll be out with your buddies at a basket ball game ogling the cheerleaders, or sneaking fags behind some alley – stuff that’s sweet for pubescent boys, not their mums. i’ll know you when, Nathan.

Love,
Mum

You guys, i am going to Halifax, to a fancy gala, to receive a prize for my work!

I know! It’s crazy! You’d better believe that i will be taking a week off in Halifax, during which i plan to loll in my hotel suite for a few days, making no decision more important than “Baileys in my morning coffee? Or Kahlua?”

You see, at my annual performance rating, i received an exceeds for my contributions to the business in 2011. i was welcomed aboard the exclusive exceeds Honour Roll because my performance demonstrated outstanding efforts in advancing our company’s strategic objectives. The executive team sent me a thank you card in a silk & leather portfolio, & they put a star on the Walk Of Fame.

By the buck does not stop there. My exceeds performance excited my boss, who then submitted my candidacy for a CEO excellence award (the pinnacle of success at my company, by the way). Candidates were reviewed based on their overall contributions to the success of the company & individual advancement. It’s a mouthful, i know.

And today, i learned that i am a recipient of a CEO excellence Award, representing the top 1 % of management and unionized performers across my company’s entire region! My accomplishment will be celebrated at a gala event this June, hosted by the CEO! i feel as if i have a wire in my mouth from all the smiling! And all these exclamation points make it seem like i can’t stop yelling! STOP YELLING! GOING CRAZY! HAPPY EXCITED!

i also get to bring Nam. And have all of our expenses paid. Professional photo shoot, martini bar, trophey, four-star hotel. A cup of wine while waiting to board? Yes, please. Put it on my tab. Some lobster tails just to play with in the tub? Sure! Ca-CHING.

i feel a bit breathless.

So this summer, i’m off to conquer Halifax. i’ve been there twice before, but for business trips, not for leisure. Have you been to Halifax? Do you have any knowledge to impart? Hotel recommendations? (Because we will be staying longer, though at a decidedly cheaper hotel.) Food recommendations? Any other kind of recommendations?

Because that book comes out May 3rd:

It’s called Val-d’Or littéraire & it’s a collection of stories & songs & poems about my hometown, from people who have lived here all their lives to those that have dropped by & decided to stay. Someone like me, actually. In there, there is a poem that i wrote about how i felt a few months after Chris passed away.

A time & location for a meet & greet has been nailed down. It is happening on Thursday, May 3rd :

Location:
Bibliothèque de Val-d’Or
600, 7e rue
Val-d’Or, QC

Time:
Starts at 5 PM & will go until almost 8 PM

Maybe we should have done this in Manhattan.

i encourage everyone to come & say hello even if you don’t want to bother with the book. i haven’t ever done a meet & greet, & am frankly quite nervous, because what if NO ONE COMES? What if i’m wearing the WRONG THING? i’m not even sure what i’m supposed to be doing there, anyway. Eat cheese? It’s a collection of authors, milling around the library, maybe, talking about their literary prowesses. i want someone to hold my hand, because this is definitely not my cup of tea. By if you do come, you’ll see i have put on a brave face. And please sneak in a beer or two for me.

The book should be sold at around $20, which i think is a great bargain. If you want a copy but can’t make it, i can enquire for you where you can purchase it (you think Amazon might carry it?). And if you want a signed copy, i’d be more than happy to do so. We can set something up, so just drop me a line.

i wonder if this is a door opening up, or one (finally) softly closing.

i love photographing my eldest. Especially when she is at her happiest. Those are endless possibilities. i get to know her personality even more than i could ever know it, & how she connects with everything. Looking at her face as she is growing up, remembering how she was as a baby … behind the camera, i’m wishing for a little more time. She is full of laughter, full of quirks. It was my pleasure as much as hers.

Since Sandrine started school, i had been batting around possible keepsake albums i could purchase, something lovely & well-made that would hold all (well, some, because to hold them all, i would need a bigger house. Or a second garage, if she’s anything like the school hoarder i used to be) of her eleven years of school memories.

This search for the perfect keepsake album (you do know what i’m talking about, right? One of those books with pockets to hold class photos, mementos, & a place to write your dreams & aspirations year after year) actually started way back in July last year. i so wanted to be the eager beaver, the first (first what? first mum of this immediate family to buy her something school-related? first person in our household to get a grip on our eldest going to school?) to find one of these albums.

i was not successful, then. In fact, i was very discouraged. Most of albums/books i found were, to be somewhat unkind but tactfully so, unpleasant to look at. It seemed as if the School Album had not evolved since the 80s. There was a lot of gingham, a lot of pastels, a lot of farm animals (really? farm animals? at school?). Some of them did not have enough pockets for the number of grades, some where woefully expensive, &, let’s admit it, most of them were boring.

Which brings me to this little jewel i finally found online a few weeks ago: “School Years: A Family Keepsake of School Memories,” illustrated by the very talented Stephan Britt.

You should know this about me: i really love retro-inspired illustrations, & this artist’s work is worth perusing. i loved almost everything about this book, except for one major flaw : its size. Review after review, while positive, mentionned how unnecessarily small this book was: not long enough to hold standard artwork from a school classroom, not wide enough for the pictures, not big enough to enclose every secret note shared by two best friends.

Still, it was almost perfect. i loved the design, i loved the simplicity of the questions, i loved the clean lines to it, & i especially loved the illustrations. So i bought it. Twice, of course.

And then i came to the conclusion that not one book could hold everything my kids will want to cherish. This was a goose chase. They already each have a huge memory box where i keep their birthday cards, their special knickknacks, some clothing, some jewelry, first drawings, etc. With that in mind, i decided i wanted to find another kind of box to hold their other memories, something that would complement the keepsake album.

You realize that i overthought this, don’t you? That i put a lot of energy into saving my children’s memories? Yes, sigh. Me, too.

So i stumbled across this keepsake box, also found online. And what do you know, it’s also from the same publisher! “School Years: A Keepsake Box for School Memories.”

Again, it was lovely. Again, it was big enough to hold everything the little book couldn’t. And it also had another journal, but with a whole lot of different questions, or thoughts. To be filled out at will, when my child wanted to. And those folders! A lover-of-retro-illustrations’ dream! On its own, it is lacking. But with the album, it was as if Romeo had teamed up with Juliet, or the salt had found its pepper. So i bought it. Also twice.

The little book fits inside the box. The box fits inside their respective closets, nestled between their baby books & baby toys. And this was the story of how i met the school keepsake albums & the keepsake boxes.

Now, if i were a mum with some sort of foresight, i should make copies of everything & keep them in a fireproof box at least a hundred yards from the originals.

Psst, here’s a confession: she’s better at this than i or Francis ever were. Yes, i am talking about rollerblading, the carefree activity of strapping on some ski boots with wheels & letting yourself roll on down the river, realizing that nothing will ever stop your free-fall except a tree, a rock or a stationary car.

For her birthday, our girl wanted blades. The rolling kind, since she already owned the ice this winter. So we obliged, & got her her first pair of in-line skates, in pink hue no less, as requested. i cannot stress enough how excited she was. She informed us that once we got back home she was going to strap on these babies & hit the road, regardless of our acquiescence or not. All right, maybe not that authoritatively, but it felt like she was going to go ahead with the whole thing, having downed a shot or two of independence the day she turned six.

Here’s how it went. Me: “You’re doing fine, you’re doing great.” And then i felt my heart skip a beat, maybe i said a Hail Mary or two. Her: Zooming by, sometimes almost falling, laughing at herself, looking behind her to see if i was catching up.

And sweet cracker sandwich if it wasn’t just like ice skating. She rocked it, if, as a mum, i can say this without any way sounding unbiased.

When i was younger, i didn’t have many birthday parties with friends. i had three, & all three were memorable. There’s something to be said about scarcity, maybe. So i was dreading the day Sandrine would want one of her own. It wasn’t something i spontaneously offered her, but i didn’t sweep it under the rug, either. It made me nervous.

Still, we made it happen, with wooden spoons, coloured bowls, sugar cookies, giggles, peanut butter, balloons, chef hats …

The invitations

Jumping for joy

Cupcake liner banner

Star players

Given to friends

Ambiance

The ingredients for decorating

Making peanut butter bears sporting home-made chef hats

Opening gifts

Decorating chocolate sugar cookies after rolling the dough & cookie-cuttering

Cakes in cones with piped icing

Bliss

We threw her that birthday party today, & she glowed.
& so did i.