Today was one of those fall days when the sky is dark and heavy; there was such a strong wind that I was overcome with that feeling that the whole world was wild, and no amount of will or wishing on my part would impose any other order on it. I love days like this. I haven’t been out of the house much in the past two days, looking after my flu stricken family – a four year old with a fever has a stronger grip on you than you could ever imagine.

We’re not entirely out of the woods – her flu started sometime in the middle of Tuesday night, but 2 and half days later she suddenly got up from the couch and started bossing me around again, demanding I read her books and putting her feet in my face as I was doing so. Her return to herself seemed almost overly dramatic. Of course I’m going to keep an eye on her, or rather, an ear out for any rattling breaths or difficulty breathing, but part of me can’t help feeling a little pissed off at all the hoopla that had me awake at 4 a.m. terrified that my daughter was going to die. She was inseparable from a friend at Halloween who was just diagnosed with H1N1, and if that was it, well, it certainly wasn’t pleasant for her, but it wasn’t the worst flu she’s had.

I did manage to get out of the house long enough to play another game where our forwards were heavily under attack, this time from the first place team who had not lost a game yet – I guess they didn’t take too kindly to the idea of losing. Our “A line” in particular (a trio hot both on and off the ice – there, Jacinthe, you can’t complain that I never mention you in my blog) was subjected to all kinds of hits and slashes and crosschecks, and I can’t help but wonder why we’re leading in penalty minutes (40 minutes’ worth in 9 games, 12 of them mine) when it feels like we’re getting bullied every game, seriously. Pretty much all of my penalties have been in retaliation for dirty plays like punches or crosschecks from behind the second the puck goes in and the whistle has gone. But probably the real reason is this (because I’ve noticed it too) – we are averaging about four goals a game, we’re outshooting them nearly three to one, they can’t get past our forwards in the neutral zone, (knock on wood!), and yes, it sounds like I’m bragging a bit, but the truth is I am in awe of how good our team has suddenly become, and its more fun than you can imagine to be a part of it.

At last, the new record from the laziest band in show business. More rock songs for small people and their minders! Topics covered: noble gases, sandwich making, photosynthesis, same-sex divorce, dogs in sweaters.

Its taken us 4 years but we’ve finally managed to get it together to put out our second album, Worser. I’m pretty darn happy with it, and not only because I got to do the silkscreened art. Great song contributions by everyone in the band, too. Here’s a song – Orange Popsicle, by Duplex!:

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(I’m going to post my little demo version of it later, so keep an eye out for it!)

One really, really great thing about playing music for kids is you get to do early shows, at say, noon. This works perfectly with my schedule. Oh, and if you’re trawling around on myspace or reverbnation, add us as your friend!

buy the album

I’m still trying to get used to the fact that I have a girly girl for a daughter – she’s obsessed with princesses, barbie, pink and makeup, the result of her one day in daycare with 3 or 4 other little girls. I can tolerate the first 3 (okay, I kind of like pink myself) but I’m not sure what to think about the makeup. I caved in this morning and bought her some nail polish (the formaldehyde and toluene free kind but still full of a long list of chemicals) because I was getting tired of her coloring the ends of her fingers with my gel pens (which does not wash off, let me tell you). I did find a special, chemical free kid formula called piggy paint that I’m going to get her next week when I’m in the area.

Still, I have some misgivings about the whole thing because I don’t approve of it, and yet, I really don’t want to turn every small thing into something too serious, and end up being a drag. I always want to encourage my kids’ interests (whether I agree with them or not) so that they will grow up thinking the world is full off interesting and fun things. God knows I’ve indulged my son’s mania for lego so much that I’m constantly stepping on it and sucking it up in the vaccuum cleaner (he very quickly learned what the phrase “bane of my existence” means) . On the other hand, I worry she will end up like my friend’s niece, embarassed to be seen with her hairy, non-makeup wearing mom. I’m kind of betting on indulging her now so that she won’t be interested in it when she’s a little older.

At any rate, my caving in this morning meant that I had to apply the nail polish, which I found to be a pretty bizarre thing, not having done it much in my own life. At least it was like painting a very tiny area with pink sparkly paint.

Speaking of painting, I absolutely love Susan Bennerstrom’s work, especially her stairways. There’s something so haunting about them, like they’re hinting at all the mysteries and complexities and multiple paths a life could take. And they’re done in oil pastel!

Black Stairs by Susan Bennerstrom

My kids have been pretty obsessed with this t.v. show lately, and I have to limit the amount of time they spend watching it, because they pretty much want to watch it all the time. The hardest thing about that is that I love it too. But when your 3 year old (ok, almost 4) twirls around in the middle of a crowded restaurant, singing at the top of her lungs “Too Many Dicks on the Dance Floor”, you do have to pause for a second and wonder whether its really all that appropriate. But how can I stop her when I can’t stop myself?

To be honest though, I have to say that I prefer her liking Flight of the Conchords to the Little Mermaid – I had a discussion with her Swedish Grandma about how disturbing I found that movie, how much she changes herself to find her prince (although my husband counters that what the prince really loves about her is what is essentially unchangeable, her voice), and every time I read the book to her I can barely contain my disgust. What really appeals to my daughter about FOTC is the songs (her current favorite: If You’re Into It), and probably the fact that the rest of her family almost passes out laughing watching it. It’s pretty damn funny that she likes to pretend we’re the great romantic figures in her world – she’s Sleeping Beauty, I’m Prince Derek, she’s Ariel, I’m Prince Eric, she’s Coco, I’m Bret. Sally doesn’t figure in because she broke their hearts but Brahbrah, well, there’s no such name as Brahbrah.

She doesn’t get that there’s only what may be the very last 3 episodes in the world or that the only tickets left to their Vancouver show are 4 times the price because Ticketmaster is scalping their own tickets and therefore we can’t afford to go, and for this, at least, I’m happy.

And I just had to share with you my favorite song thus far (I don’t think I will ever find it not funny how they twirl around at the end!):