Happy 2008!! Et voila: My Year-End Review
January 1, 2008
On April 18th 2002, I had dinner with my good friend Mitchell. I didn't know it then but it was to be the last time we'd see eachother... About two weeks later he died of a heart attack.
2002 was the year I wrote my first year-end review in part because of Mitchell. If there is one thing you could always count on, it was his dedication and affinity for cultivating and maintaining friendships. It is hard to believe it has been 5 years since I last saw my friend.
And so it is with him in mind that I write the year-end review. It's my way of saying that I truly value your friendship and all that we have experienced together. I just wanted you to know that.
Hold on the yer hats folks! Here is my year-end review:
Wow-wee, what a year! My year-end review typically tells of the year’s exotic highlights, however 2007 was totally a domestic affair. No vacation, no concerts… But big big things happened – most people I know either moved to a new home, changed “job description”, or had a baby. And I fit into all of the above.
Continuing with an old tradition handed down from my mum, at the stroke of midnight of the New Year I actively did something to help make a wish come true. Most years I jump outside with a suitcase because I hope to travel, or run around with my pockets stuffed with money (somehow that one doesn’t seem to work as well). This time I carried around a little baby outfit hoping to have someone to put it on in 2007. And sure enough, on January 26th we took the test that told us we were pregnant!
It was absolute torture to hold on to the secret for 3 months. Charles of course told our mechanic, our mortgage broker, the bank lady – basically everyone we weren’t related to. I myself couldn’t help but leak the news to certain individuals but successfully waited to drop the big bomb to my parents on my birthday, April 3rd, which also was Passover this year. My folks had been invited to Charles’ mom’s place for dinner and we planned to surprise them before the dinner with little thank-you cards cleverly equipped with the very first picture of our little baby inside. I watched keenly as my mother pondered over the ultrasound image -- it took a few seconds for it to sink in and when it did she gasped in joyful shock. She was so elated she had trouble getting up from the sofa to hug us. Everyone was surprised and happy and we were hugged all around, but my mother’s reaction was the single most wonderful moment in time that will grip my heart forever.
With the exception of one wild weekend of vomit while on a weekend stint to Plattsburgh (which Charles was oh-so happy about because it was definitive “proof” I was preggo), the pregnancy was quite manageable. No crazy weight gain, no nausea, no torturous back pain. Not even major cravings, although I did demand more Happy Meals than I have eaten in the last couple years. The hardest parts were the emotional rolla coaster, realizing I couldn’t run any more, and finding a comfortable position to sit or sleep in especially as the tummy got bigger. Oh, and not doing stuff or picking anything up. Which was kind of frustrating since we moved to our new house in May.
At the end of last year’s review I promised to fill you in on our adventures in house hunting last summer, which ended happily with us finding and purchasing our first home! After seeing a bunch of houses that were either too small, too old, or too expensive, we came across this little gem in Ile Bizard. “Ile Bizard?” you say. Well, I said that too. But our agent Vic was convinced we were to find what we wanted on this tiny island just across the water north of Pierrefonds and west of Laval.
At the top of our price range and a tad far from everything, this place had a few strikes against it from the start. But as with most things you initially poo-poo that are destined to be the best thing for you (like the party you didn’t want to go to but had the best time at, or the crabby co-worker who eventually became your best friend), I felt this house was “the one” the moment we saw it from the curb. Everything about it – the size, the layout, the pool – was perfect.
So we made a bid, plunked down some hard cash and >poof< we were homeowners! The journey then moved on to the more non-exciting parts of home owning like mortgage insurance, home insurance, life insurance, health insurance, drug insurance, welcome tax, school tax, property tax – oy vay! And finally: the villainous contractor.
Seeing as how contractors don’t have stellar reputations to begin with, this story isn’t actually worth telling from beginning to end. Suffice it to say, Charles and I chose to go with an old friend --at least I considered him a friend rather than an acquaintance since I’ve known him since 1999 and called him just about every New Year. I had an idea of his quality of work and thought we could trust him to be alone in our house during the day while we were at work.
In a nut, the job went over budget, and over schedule (which would be acceptable on some level if at least the job was done correctly) but the real stinger was when we noticed something very disturbing in one of the upstairs rooms: scotch tape. The man went and painted over scotch tape everywhere! No less than eighty-seven pieces of scotch tape. This room had belonged to the tween-age girl before we moved in and she had posters taped to every usable surface so no one can say it wasn’t noticeable. After 3 weeks and roughly 50% of the job yet to go, we were fuming. Not only were we paying top dollar, we suddenly discovered he was charging us for all of his lunch hours. The room was a total wash and we were dreading to find out what else wasn’t done properly.
When I confronted my contractor “friend” and pointed out all the scotch tape, all he could do was throw his arms in the air, take a step back and say “Hey, I’m here all by myself.” I couldn’t believe it. So I told him I was leaving to buy more paint for him to begin repairs on that room right away. By the time I came back, he was gone. No good bye, no sorry; just a ripped wall where he attempted to remove some of the scotch tape with a scrapper. And, of course, a house nowhere near finished as planned and promised.
A hard lesson learned: don’t hire friends. Our story of the scotch tape debacle could not be kept to ourselves and basically we told anyone who would listen. Thankfully it led us to find Sylvain “Le Finisseur”, the most interesting character I met this year. He turned out to be our knight in shining armor who was able to repair the room, and finish the rest of the house including the hardwood flooring, the new staircase, electrical work, plumbing, and painting. Truly, there isn’t anything this guy can’t do!
The only thing our resident French Canadian McGuyver needed to be kept happy was a cup of coffee and an enthusiastic ear to listen to his gallant stories of saving people who were unfortunate enough to have rotten and incompetent contractors before him. My favorite Sylvain-ism is when he’d find something amiss in the house, he’d cock his head to one side and say: “Pourquoi y’ont fait ça?” as if to say what kind of idiot would do that? Even though he was technically booked well until next fall, he always managed to find time to come to our home, which we really appreciated and were only too happy to supply him with all the coffee and ears we had.
Another hard lesson learned: don’t work for friends. I actually knew this one already, but what can I say? I am a glutton… Anyway, after 3 years of working for my friend podiatrist, I think I can safely say the friendship (if it ever really was one) is officially over.
Not a big shock, mind you. Things weren’t peachy for some time but it all started to go super sour shortly after I told her I was preggo which naturally meant I had to miss work to go to doctor appointments, ultrasound appointments, and tests. Also, my new house, or rather its location, made it impossible for me to stay late if I wanted to get home by public transport in less than 2 hours. Suddenly my time wasn’t her time any more. Never mind the fact that I was pregnant and couldn’t be on my feet for long periods of time, or that I had to actually eat dinner at a decent time. One would imagine a “friend” would be sensitive to my condition, much less my boss. She failed on both counts.
Thankfully Charles heard from one of his co-workers that I might actually have a case with the CSST (the provincial workman’s union) to be able to leave work on mat leave early. So in June they came, evaluated my workstation and determined aspects of my job were indeed hazardous to my pregnancy. This meant my boss had to either change my work duties or let me go on leave immediately. She had her own brilliant ideas of how to facilitate my work responsibilities (which included changing my hours from 9-to-5 to 12-to-6) to which I flat out refused. I guess she forgot the part about the duties being hazardous. Still, I knew how busy the office was. I wanted to be fair and offered to stay on to help out with office work until she found someone I could train to replace me. Instead she gave me 10 minutes to gather all my things and go. No thank you. No good-bye. “That’s it my friend” was all she said, and walked out of the room.
I am a little sad that I didn’t get a chance to properly say good-bye to my wonderful co-workers or some of my favorite patients. (I also miss my morning coffee from the dep downstairs.) I am at least proud that I gave it my all, learned a lot, and was damn good at my job. I got to meet some fascinating people. And fascinating feet.
Ah, I love funemployment! You know, the great thing about being off work was knowing that my CSST cheque was in the mail all while my most difficult daily task was deciding how many times to go swimming. As we got closer to my due-date, Charles started to spend more time with me and the tummy. Now that we have our own little abode, Charles is concentrating on his private practice which is run out of the house. With no shortage of excitement, the summer was dominated by renovations, unpacking, learning all about lawn and pool maintenance, waddling, exploring the West Island, having family over, and preparing for the baby.
In August I finally completed my conversion to Judaism. I had started the class back in September 2006 (with Charles by my side), passed the test in early 2007, did the mikvah in our very own pool, and finally made my affirmation in front of the congregation. It was actually quite an emotional moment for me. Having volunteered at the Temple several times, I already made some friends who were there when I was called to the arc to hold the Torah as I made my affirmation. It was a little funny when among the vows is the one where I promise to raise my children Jewish if we are so blessed. A warm chuckle rolled around the room as I stood there with my big tummy. But the truly moving part was as I walked around the sanctuary with the Rabbis, members of the congregation came forth to congratulate and welcome me. It really felt like the beginning of a new life and joining a new family.
By the end of the summer the tummy was massive. I have to admit, it’s quite amazing to have a living thing moving around inside you. I could lie there for hours waiting for her to make an appearance. When Charles would catch one of her summersaults he’d look at me in disbelief and ask if it freaked me out, which in some way it did. But honestly, it wasn’t so bad to have everyone want to touch the tummy. We found out early on that we were having a girl and so we had plenty of time to envision what our daughter would be like. Charles came to all the appointments and prenatal classes. He even played guitar for the tummy all the time. A more eager dad-to-be there never was. Of course, he was hoping for a lesbian…
Finally the big day, September 26th, was upon us and although I was slightly disappointed to not be able to deliver the baby the natural way, a scheduled c-section has a way of taking the bulk of worry out of the equation. With 10 minutes of slicing and 30-40 minutes of putting me back together, I basically knew how, where and when everything was going to happen in advance. You simply show up for your appointment, get pumped full of drugs, wait, and they hand you a baby. A beautiful baby we have been waiting for our whole lives.
The c-section procedure did have its discomforts. At one point I was so focused on the feeling of someone digging their elbow into my ribs that I was suddenly distracted by the tiny sound of crying. From where I was lying, I saw them whisk a tiny figure from behind the curtain and caught a glimpse of an elbow and a head full of dark hair. At 10:58 a.m. she finally arrived and I was dying to meet her. As soon as she was wrapped up, Charles brought her over and >poof< we were a family. Together at last.
It’s been almost 3 months since Selina Michelle Ugarte Dahan was born. In that time we’ve met the breast-feeding challenge, took about a thousand pictures, pretty much mastered changing poopy diapers except for the occasional attack à la Pearl Harbour, and have become addicted to her smile. Oh, and we also have come to loath hospitals. Unfortunately, Selina had a tiny skin infection we had to deal with and although it wasn’t too serious, because she was only 12 days old when we took her to the Children’s Hospital, she had to be admitted for a 5-day intravenous antibiotic treatment. Luckily, she recovered quickly from the unexpected bout. Unluckily, I caught it from her a week later and needed antibiotic treatment myself. Three hospitals in 3 weeks = ugh!
Recovery from the cesarean was a little difficult. I still can’t run but I am already back to my pre-preggo weight and I have my very own mummy-tummy with a most precious scar to boot. Home made food from Charles’ and my folks was a godsend and to be honest, I think Selina grew about 10 pounds overnight once the food started coming. She literally did not fit in her newborn sized diapers from one day to the next. That’ll teach us to buy diapers in bulk.
One thing I have to say is that I don’t know what I would do without Charles. How single mothers survive is truly a miracle. Aside from being great with the baby and taking care of me, he’s been so great with my family and keeps this ship afloat like a champ. He has been with me the whole time, except for the night he went to see one of our favorite bands from Finland: Nightwish. Normally we would have gone together but this time he went on his own and he bumped into the singer Marco! So what does he do? He calls me up and has Marco speak to me on the phone! (Sweet!!) Even when we are apart, he is with me.
Even though my Chinese horoscope year forecast warned me not to buy a house or start a family this year, I’d say things have turned out relatively well. 2007 was the year almost everything happened without trying too hard. In January, I managed to put together a mini-reunion of Villa girls (me, Beverly, Jae, Katia, Astrid and Diane) with no more than a thought and two e-mails. With the exception of Jae who I see regularly, I haven’t been with these girls all together in almost 20 years! In April, Charles scored front row center tickets to Lord of the Dance and we sent my parents on a much-deserved treat. On the list of similar accomplishments are the Mother’s Day dinner skillfully arranged on the fly, catching my mum totally off guard with a surprise birthday lunch with her friends, and throwing my dad a nice dinner in our new home to celebrate his 40th anniversary of coming to Canada.
I may not have gone to any concerts or exotic destinations, but truly this year was filled with unforgettable moments and people. I discovered that the most humbling thing that can happen to you is having your own child. Every day I came closer to becoming a parent, the more I appreciated what my parents did for me growing up. As I sit here writing this review – in this beautiful home with my little one asleep in her bed – I look around at the pictures covering the fridge and feel I finally know what love and commitment really is. I wake up everyday in awe of how my love continues to grow for this wonderful man. Every time I see Charles snuggle with his daughter, an incredible feeling comes over me... We made a little human! Who cares if she isn’t a lesbian!
Seems like everyone has had a momentous year - there has also been a baby boom of sorts; several high school friends also recently had or are having babies: Soo-Youn, Katia, Lilianna, Kristin, and Diane.
Looking back at 2007, one word comes to mind: Whew!! Who knows what 2008 will bring. I could do with less excitement for the next little while. But with the little one already making the moves to start crawling, you can bet there can only be more fun fun fun on the horizon.
In my heart of hearts, I wish you all the best in love and happiness, health and prosperity for the New Year and always.
Lots of love, Mama Cecilia
On April 18th 2002, I had dinner with my good friend Mitchell. I didn't know it then but it was to be the last time we'd see eachother... About two weeks later he died of a heart attack.
2002 was the year I wrote my first year-end review in part because of Mitchell. If there is one thing you could always count on, it was his dedication and affinity for cultivating and maintaining friendships. It is hard to believe it has been 5 years since I last saw my friend.
And so it is with him in mind that I write the year-end review. It's my way of saying that I truly value your friendship and all that we have experienced together. I just wanted you to know that.
Hold on the yer hats folks! Here is my year-end review:
Wow-wee, what a year! My year-end review typically tells of the year’s exotic highlights, however 2007 was totally a domestic affair. No vacation, no concerts… But big big things happened – most people I know either moved to a new home, changed “job description”, or had a baby. And I fit into all of the above.
Continuing with an old tradition handed down from my mum, at the stroke of midnight of the New Year I actively did something to help make a wish come true. Most years I jump outside with a suitcase because I hope to travel, or run around with my pockets stuffed with money (somehow that one doesn’t seem to work as well). This time I carried around a little baby outfit hoping to have someone to put it on in 2007. And sure enough, on January 26th we took the test that told us we were pregnant!
It was absolute torture to hold on to the secret for 3 months. Charles of course told our mechanic, our mortgage broker, the bank lady – basically everyone we weren’t related to. I myself couldn’t help but leak the news to certain individuals but successfully waited to drop the big bomb to my parents on my birthday, April 3rd, which also was Passover this year. My folks had been invited to Charles’ mom’s place for dinner and we planned to surprise them before the dinner with little thank-you cards cleverly equipped with the very first picture of our little baby inside. I watched keenly as my mother pondered over the ultrasound image -- it took a few seconds for it to sink in and when it did she gasped in joyful shock. She was so elated she had trouble getting up from the sofa to hug us. Everyone was surprised and happy and we were hugged all around, but my mother’s reaction was the single most wonderful moment in time that will grip my heart forever.
With the exception of one wild weekend of vomit while on a weekend stint to Plattsburgh (which Charles was oh-so happy about because it was definitive “proof” I was preggo), the pregnancy was quite manageable. No crazy weight gain, no nausea, no torturous back pain. Not even major cravings, although I did demand more Happy Meals than I have eaten in the last couple years. The hardest parts were the emotional rolla coaster, realizing I couldn’t run any more, and finding a comfortable position to sit or sleep in especially as the tummy got bigger. Oh, and not doing stuff or picking anything up. Which was kind of frustrating since we moved to our new house in May.
At the end of last year’s review I promised to fill you in on our adventures in house hunting last summer, which ended happily with us finding and purchasing our first home! After seeing a bunch of houses that were either too small, too old, or too expensive, we came across this little gem in Ile Bizard. “Ile Bizard?” you say. Well, I said that too. But our agent Vic was convinced we were to find what we wanted on this tiny island just across the water north of Pierrefonds and west of Laval.
At the top of our price range and a tad far from everything, this place had a few strikes against it from the start. But as with most things you initially poo-poo that are destined to be the best thing for you (like the party you didn’t want to go to but had the best time at, or the crabby co-worker who eventually became your best friend), I felt this house was “the one” the moment we saw it from the curb. Everything about it – the size, the layout, the pool – was perfect.
So we made a bid, plunked down some hard cash and >poof< we were homeowners! The journey then moved on to the more non-exciting parts of home owning like mortgage insurance, home insurance, life insurance, health insurance, drug insurance, welcome tax, school tax, property tax – oy vay! And finally: the villainous contractor.
Seeing as how contractors don’t have stellar reputations to begin with, this story isn’t actually worth telling from beginning to end. Suffice it to say, Charles and I chose to go with an old friend --at least I considered him a friend rather than an acquaintance since I’ve known him since 1999 and called him just about every New Year. I had an idea of his quality of work and thought we could trust him to be alone in our house during the day while we were at work.
In a nut, the job went over budget, and over schedule (which would be acceptable on some level if at least the job was done correctly) but the real stinger was when we noticed something very disturbing in one of the upstairs rooms: scotch tape. The man went and painted over scotch tape everywhere! No less than eighty-seven pieces of scotch tape. This room had belonged to the tween-age girl before we moved in and she had posters taped to every usable surface so no one can say it wasn’t noticeable. After 3 weeks and roughly 50% of the job yet to go, we were fuming. Not only were we paying top dollar, we suddenly discovered he was charging us for all of his lunch hours. The room was a total wash and we were dreading to find out what else wasn’t done properly.
When I confronted my contractor “friend” and pointed out all the scotch tape, all he could do was throw his arms in the air, take a step back and say “Hey, I’m here all by myself.” I couldn’t believe it. So I told him I was leaving to buy more paint for him to begin repairs on that room right away. By the time I came back, he was gone. No good bye, no sorry; just a ripped wall where he attempted to remove some of the scotch tape with a scrapper. And, of course, a house nowhere near finished as planned and promised.
A hard lesson learned: don’t hire friends. Our story of the scotch tape debacle could not be kept to ourselves and basically we told anyone who would listen. Thankfully it led us to find Sylvain “Le Finisseur”, the most interesting character I met this year. He turned out to be our knight in shining armor who was able to repair the room, and finish the rest of the house including the hardwood flooring, the new staircase, electrical work, plumbing, and painting. Truly, there isn’t anything this guy can’t do!
The only thing our resident French Canadian McGuyver needed to be kept happy was a cup of coffee and an enthusiastic ear to listen to his gallant stories of saving people who were unfortunate enough to have rotten and incompetent contractors before him. My favorite Sylvain-ism is when he’d find something amiss in the house, he’d cock his head to one side and say: “Pourquoi y’ont fait ça?” as if to say what kind of idiot would do that? Even though he was technically booked well until next fall, he always managed to find time to come to our home, which we really appreciated and were only too happy to supply him with all the coffee and ears we had.
Another hard lesson learned: don’t work for friends. I actually knew this one already, but what can I say? I am a glutton… Anyway, after 3 years of working for my friend podiatrist, I think I can safely say the friendship (if it ever really was one) is officially over.
Not a big shock, mind you. Things weren’t peachy for some time but it all started to go super sour shortly after I told her I was preggo which naturally meant I had to miss work to go to doctor appointments, ultrasound appointments, and tests. Also, my new house, or rather its location, made it impossible for me to stay late if I wanted to get home by public transport in less than 2 hours. Suddenly my time wasn’t her time any more. Never mind the fact that I was pregnant and couldn’t be on my feet for long periods of time, or that I had to actually eat dinner at a decent time. One would imagine a “friend” would be sensitive to my condition, much less my boss. She failed on both counts.
Thankfully Charles heard from one of his co-workers that I might actually have a case with the CSST (the provincial workman’s union) to be able to leave work on mat leave early. So in June they came, evaluated my workstation and determined aspects of my job were indeed hazardous to my pregnancy. This meant my boss had to either change my work duties or let me go on leave immediately. She had her own brilliant ideas of how to facilitate my work responsibilities (which included changing my hours from 9-to-5 to 12-to-6) to which I flat out refused. I guess she forgot the part about the duties being hazardous. Still, I knew how busy the office was. I wanted to be fair and offered to stay on to help out with office work until she found someone I could train to replace me. Instead she gave me 10 minutes to gather all my things and go. No thank you. No good-bye. “That’s it my friend” was all she said, and walked out of the room.
I am a little sad that I didn’t get a chance to properly say good-bye to my wonderful co-workers or some of my favorite patients. (I also miss my morning coffee from the dep downstairs.) I am at least proud that I gave it my all, learned a lot, and was damn good at my job. I got to meet some fascinating people. And fascinating feet.
Ah, I love funemployment! You know, the great thing about being off work was knowing that my CSST cheque was in the mail all while my most difficult daily task was deciding how many times to go swimming. As we got closer to my due-date, Charles started to spend more time with me and the tummy. Now that we have our own little abode, Charles is concentrating on his private practice which is run out of the house. With no shortage of excitement, the summer was dominated by renovations, unpacking, learning all about lawn and pool maintenance, waddling, exploring the West Island, having family over, and preparing for the baby.
In August I finally completed my conversion to Judaism. I had started the class back in September 2006 (with Charles by my side), passed the test in early 2007, did the mikvah in our very own pool, and finally made my affirmation in front of the congregation. It was actually quite an emotional moment for me. Having volunteered at the Temple several times, I already made some friends who were there when I was called to the arc to hold the Torah as I made my affirmation. It was a little funny when among the vows is the one where I promise to raise my children Jewish if we are so blessed. A warm chuckle rolled around the room as I stood there with my big tummy. But the truly moving part was as I walked around the sanctuary with the Rabbis, members of the congregation came forth to congratulate and welcome me. It really felt like the beginning of a new life and joining a new family.
By the end of the summer the tummy was massive. I have to admit, it’s quite amazing to have a living thing moving around inside you. I could lie there for hours waiting for her to make an appearance. When Charles would catch one of her summersaults he’d look at me in disbelief and ask if it freaked me out, which in some way it did. But honestly, it wasn’t so bad to have everyone want to touch the tummy. We found out early on that we were having a girl and so we had plenty of time to envision what our daughter would be like. Charles came to all the appointments and prenatal classes. He even played guitar for the tummy all the time. A more eager dad-to-be there never was. Of course, he was hoping for a lesbian…
Finally the big day, September 26th, was upon us and although I was slightly disappointed to not be able to deliver the baby the natural way, a scheduled c-section has a way of taking the bulk of worry out of the equation. With 10 minutes of slicing and 30-40 minutes of putting me back together, I basically knew how, where and when everything was going to happen in advance. You simply show up for your appointment, get pumped full of drugs, wait, and they hand you a baby. A beautiful baby we have been waiting for our whole lives.
The c-section procedure did have its discomforts. At one point I was so focused on the feeling of someone digging their elbow into my ribs that I was suddenly distracted by the tiny sound of crying. From where I was lying, I saw them whisk a tiny figure from behind the curtain and caught a glimpse of an elbow and a head full of dark hair. At 10:58 a.m. she finally arrived and I was dying to meet her. As soon as she was wrapped up, Charles brought her over and >poof< we were a family. Together at last.
It’s been almost 3 months since Selina Michelle Ugarte Dahan was born. In that time we’ve met the breast-feeding challenge, took about a thousand pictures, pretty much mastered changing poopy diapers except for the occasional attack à la Pearl Harbour, and have become addicted to her smile. Oh, and we also have come to loath hospitals. Unfortunately, Selina had a tiny skin infection we had to deal with and although it wasn’t too serious, because she was only 12 days old when we took her to the Children’s Hospital, she had to be admitted for a 5-day intravenous antibiotic treatment. Luckily, she recovered quickly from the unexpected bout. Unluckily, I caught it from her a week later and needed antibiotic treatment myself. Three hospitals in 3 weeks = ugh!
Recovery from the cesarean was a little difficult. I still can’t run but I am already back to my pre-preggo weight and I have my very own mummy-tummy with a most precious scar to boot. Home made food from Charles’ and my folks was a godsend and to be honest, I think Selina grew about 10 pounds overnight once the food started coming. She literally did not fit in her newborn sized diapers from one day to the next. That’ll teach us to buy diapers in bulk.
One thing I have to say is that I don’t know what I would do without Charles. How single mothers survive is truly a miracle. Aside from being great with the baby and taking care of me, he’s been so great with my family and keeps this ship afloat like a champ. He has been with me the whole time, except for the night he went to see one of our favorite bands from Finland: Nightwish. Normally we would have gone together but this time he went on his own and he bumped into the singer Marco! So what does he do? He calls me up and has Marco speak to me on the phone! (Sweet!!) Even when we are apart, he is with me.
Even though my Chinese horoscope year forecast warned me not to buy a house or start a family this year, I’d say things have turned out relatively well. 2007 was the year almost everything happened without trying too hard. In January, I managed to put together a mini-reunion of Villa girls (me, Beverly, Jae, Katia, Astrid and Diane) with no more than a thought and two e-mails. With the exception of Jae who I see regularly, I haven’t been with these girls all together in almost 20 years! In April, Charles scored front row center tickets to Lord of the Dance and we sent my parents on a much-deserved treat. On the list of similar accomplishments are the Mother’s Day dinner skillfully arranged on the fly, catching my mum totally off guard with a surprise birthday lunch with her friends, and throwing my dad a nice dinner in our new home to celebrate his 40th anniversary of coming to Canada.
I may not have gone to any concerts or exotic destinations, but truly this year was filled with unforgettable moments and people. I discovered that the most humbling thing that can happen to you is having your own child. Every day I came closer to becoming a parent, the more I appreciated what my parents did for me growing up. As I sit here writing this review – in this beautiful home with my little one asleep in her bed – I look around at the pictures covering the fridge and feel I finally know what love and commitment really is. I wake up everyday in awe of how my love continues to grow for this wonderful man. Every time I see Charles snuggle with his daughter, an incredible feeling comes over me... We made a little human! Who cares if she isn’t a lesbian!
Seems like everyone has had a momentous year - there has also been a baby boom of sorts; several high school friends also recently had or are having babies: Soo-Youn, Katia, Lilianna, Kristin, and Diane.
Looking back at 2007, one word comes to mind: Whew!! Who knows what 2008 will bring. I could do with less excitement for the next little while. But with the little one already making the moves to start crawling, you can bet there can only be more fun fun fun on the horizon.
In my heart of hearts, I wish you all the best in love and happiness, health and prosperity for the New Year and always.
Lots of love, Mama Cecilia
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