hellomelissa.net

New section: Noteworthy

melissa — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 21:43:04 +0000

I’ve just finished putting together a page showcasing some of my favourite posts.

Noteworthy: my favourite posts on hellomelissa.net

Part of me feels like this is a little arrogant and circular, but part of me is thinking “Awesome! It’s like having my own Greatest Hits album that has a commercial on late-night TV!”

The joys of curating your own content.

While many posts are more recent (nothing before 2005 made this version of the list), have a look and read anything you haven’t seen before.

New section: Noteworthy © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.

Cabbage Patch Kids: a history of a well-loved doll

melissa — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 04:11:41 +0000

I started writing a long comment on Karen’s post about her Cabbage Patch Kid when I realized we’d both be better off if I wrote a post and linked to that in her comments instead.

Like many kids growing up in the mid-eighties, both my sister and I had Cabbage Patch Kid dolls. We got them for Christmas the year they were so popular in Canada – 1985 I think? My mother doesn’t remember any stampedes but remembers that they were hard to find. Mine was named Sylvia Estelle and Kyla’s was named Susan Zora. I remember both of us signing the adoption papers and my mother telling my sister that she wasn’t allowed to throw hers on the floor (apparently, she was a doll thrower).

We played with them a *lot*. My mom made clothes for them. My sister cut their hair (something I only discovered recently when I couldn’t get the ponytails fixed properly). I remember going to a Cabbage Patch Kid party where all the girls brought their dolls and we all played. Someone took a picture of at least ten dolls on the couch and while their faces essentially looked the same, each one of them was unique enough that you knew exactly whose doll was whose.

Before we got the “real” Cabbage Patch Kids, we were given homemade dolls made by one of our favourite aunts. They weren’t the same as the Cabbage Patch Kids, but they were pretty close. We loved those dollies too. They were loved hard because I remember mine getting holes in her face and some of her hair was falling off. My sister also put lipstick on my doll (“to see what it would look like”) so they were definitely one of a kind. What made them extra special was that my aunt made them look like us – Betty Lou had short brown hair like me and Lily was blonde like Kyla.

Fast forward to now. These dolls are still at my mom’s house, and the Cabbage Patch Kids have both been brought out for Flora to play with when she’s at Grandma’s. (I think the homemade dolls are a little fragile for a toddler.) Fun fact: when I was pregnant, my mother had me practice my swaddling on my Cabbage Patch Kid. Later in the evening, I realized I was still cradling my swaddled “baby” and jiggling her as if she was a real baby. Big laughs all around.

Flora playing mummy to her dolly

Flora adores these dolls and plays with them every time she visits Grandma’s house. Interestingly, she seems to have taken a bigger shine to Kyla’s doll and not mine – I think Susan Zora got better placement in the house.

When my mom heard that the 25th anniversary dolls were released, she was excited to buy one for Flora and gave it to her for her first birthday. I think they’re running out of names in the Cabbage Patch because her dolly is named “Fairy Artie”. I had to get my sister to repeat it when she told me on the phone before we actually saw the doll. She told me “Fairy as in ‘fairy godmother’ and Artie as in ‘Artie Ziff’”. My reponse: “Oh, so little Fartie then”. Again, big laughs all around. Little Fartie sits on Flora’s toy shelf as she seemed a little large for Flora’s hands. Writing this post made me realize that I should take Little Fartie down and let Flora play with her. She was a big hit and will be entering regular rotation.

Yup, that doll really is named Fairy Artie. The other kids in the Patch must have had a field day with her.

L-R: Ericka Alessandra, Fairy Artie

I think my mom likes these dollies as much as we do. When she saw the little preemie dolls that came out recently, she went and bought one of those for Flora as well. Ericka Alessandra is a little smaller than a regular Cabbage Patch Kid and is made completely out of plastic. Flora adores her and plays with her regularly. One of her favourite things to do with it is take off all of dolly’s clothes. Then I have to put them back on because she hasn’t gotten the hang of that part yet. (Kind of like Flora herself.) Sometimes I hear her talking to her dolly like I talk to her: “change your diaper”, “all clean”, “time to play”, “feed baby”. It shocked me just how early that kind of play starts, although it makes sense when I think about it.

I’ve always said I can’t wait for Flora to be old enough for Barbies so we could play together (I *loved* Barbies as a kid). I’ve enjoyed her Cabbage Patch Kid phase immensely though. I’m so thankful my mom had the foresight to save the Cabbage Patch Kids (and the clothes she made) so the next generation of our family could enjoy them.

Cabbage Patch Kids: a history of a well-loved doll © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.

Wordless Wednesday: Swimming

melissa — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 21:00:53 +0000

We spent this past Sunday at a cottage in Quebec with close friends. Flora got to check out the lake.

(Click pictures for larger images, see more on my Flickr stream)

Wordless Wednesday: Swimming © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.

Date Day with Sean

melissa — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 02:16:33 +0000

I shot a gun for the first time today. A real, non-videogame gun.

Let me back up and put some context into those last two sentences.

Sean and I are on vacation this week. My sister offered to take her vacation at the same time so she could take Flora for a couple of days. We gratefully accepted her offer and Flora has been whooping it up with her auntie and grandma since yesterday afternoon.

This left Sean and I with some alone time on our hands. So we decided to take advantage of it by going out to do stuff we can’t do when Flora is here. Sean has recently taken up target shooting as a hobby and joined a gun club to practice his craft. Sean has asked me several times to come shooting with him, but I kept reminding him that we would need a babysitter (something we don’t have outside of working hours when Flora goes to daycare), so I wouldn’t be going with him any time soon. With Flora away, and the range being quiet during the day, we decided to give it a go.

Those first sentences could make me sound tough and adventurous in certain circles, but I was a nervous wreck once we entered the shooting area. Sean was very patient as he explained the preparations he needed to make for each round of shooting.

Then he fired his first shot. And I nearly shit myself.

Gunfire is *loud*. Even with ear protection. Movies don’t get that point across, no matter how good your home theatre set up is.

I don’t do well with loud noises at the best of times – I scare easily – so I don’t know why I thought target shooting would be a good idea. Trying to bond with the husband I suppose.

Then Sean wanted me to shoot. I was starting to get really anxious and initially refused. Then after some convincing, he had me holding the gun and taking aim at the target.

Despite all the safeties the gun had (it had three: a trigger safety, and two internal safeties), it amazed me at just how easy it was to pull the trigger. I didn’t expect it to yield to my finger so easily.

When I finally pulled the trigger, the recoil scared me nearly as much as the noise did. It made me afraid that I was no longer in control of the gun and that made me fear for my safety. Once I had complete control again (it was only a few seconds that I didn’t feel complete control), I put the gun down and told Sean I would wait for him outside. He talked me out of that, and I spent the rest of our session with my hands over my ear protection every time he lifted the gun to shoot (that didn’t help).

Sean talked me into trying one more time, and I felt a little more confident the second time now that I knew what it was going to feel like. After my shot, I put the gun down and returned to my spot several feet behind Sean, well out of the shooting bay and waiting for him to finish shooting at his targets. His marksmanship is getting better. (Mine was terrible in case you were wondering – I didn’t even hit the target.)

I don’t think I’ll be going shooting with him again anytime soon. I think with practice I could get over my anxiety with the gun itself. But honestly, the noise kept me on edge the entire time and I’m not so sure I could get past that. I’m grateful that we were the only people in there shooting, although I’m sure the staff got a big laugh out of me on the security video covering my earmuffs and even squealing once.

But I took two shots. That’s more than I ever thought I would. At least I tried it.

I’m thrilled that Sean has a hobby he enjoys and can do on his own or with friends. We just won’t be the couple that shoots together.

I’m also thrilled that we spent the rest of our date doing things we both enjoyed: eating lunch and visiting the Harry Potter exhibition at the Ontario Science Centre. Seeing the props and costumes from the Harry Potter movies up close made me realize that set, prop and costume design truly makes a good movie into a great one.

**Since guns and gun safety can be a hot-button topic, I feel I need to say the following. I’m not a big fan of guns. The guns Sean owns (legally, with proper paperwork) are stored very safely in my house in locked safes with locked cases and trigger locks. Proper safety measures are always taken around them. They would not be in my house if they weren’t stored that way. Canada’s gun laws are strict and we follow them to the letter. No thugs around here.

Date Day with Sean © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.

All dressed up and everywhere to go

melissa — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 02:07:11 +0000

A few weeks ago, I bought a new dress to wear to a friend’s wedding that is happening this Friday. Flora saw the dress last night before it went to the washing machine and decided she had to try it on. I didn’t have a camera handy then, but I did have one tonight when I brought the dress up from the dryer.

(Click images for larger versions)

Once she spotted it tonight, she started saying “Pretty dress!” so I helped her put it on and she traipsed around the kitchen. While the skirt of the dress looked like a beautiful mermaid train, I’m pretty sure it did double duty as a floor mop. Hopefully I don’t have to wash it again before the wedding.

Then Flora decided she needed to finish beautifying herself:

She decided to do that by getting into my purse and stealing my lip balm. I don’t think she opened it.

Then, she decided enough was enough and wanted it off.

And finished her fashion show with a bag on her head.

I just hope I look as good in my dress as she does, or I’ll end up needed to borrow that bag to wear on my head.

All dressed up and everywhere to go © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.

Public Service Announcement: Floss your teeth!

melissa — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 01:51:17 +0000

Flora may not be showing her teeth in this picture, but let her smile be a reminder to you.

Floss your teeth. Regularly.

I went to the dentist tonight for a cleaning and my hygienist said that my teeth and gums did much better during her scaling work due to flossing my teeth. I knew this without her telling me because I went through the cleaning without stabbing pains in my gums and gripping the armrests to keep from ripping the implements out of my mouth. During my last cleaning I was nearly in tears by the time my hygienist was done with me. It hurt that much. Today it felt, well not like tickling, but certainly not horribly painful.

So seriously. Floss your teeth. And use an electric toothbrush. Doing both of those things have really helped my cleanings go faster and with less pain.

Also, if you live in the east end of Toronto, and you need a dentist, go to http://www.dentalcaretoronto.com/. They’re nice people, and I’ve been going to them since 2002. (Disclosure: this is not advertorial, it’s just me saying something nice about people who provide me a valuable service for my health.)

Public Service Announcement: Floss your teeth! © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.

Back Seat Driver

melissa — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 11:20:51 +0000

Flora and I were out and about yesterday. I needed to pick up my Maple Leaf prize pack from Emma (thanks again!), and since I met up with Emma in front of a grocery store, I decided to pick up a few things. (Full disclosure: I put the prize pack in the car, then went into the grocery store to do my shopping. I forgot that there were coupons in it – whatta bonehead!)

On the way there, I discovered that Flora is definitely listening to her father during their car rides together. On the way to the store, I was stopped at a light. The light must have taken its time to change, because I suddenly hear Flora say “MOOOVE!” in a surprisingly firm voice for a non-driving toddler. She sounded just like her father, who can get a little….impatient when he drives.

Fortunately, the light changed, and were able to continue on our trip without further incident or commentary from the peanut gallery in my back seat.

When the time comes for Flora to drive, I’m not sure which one of us should take her out. Sean and I have very different driving styles. It took me years of living here to get the courage up to drive in Toronto, and I still don’t do the 401 past the exit to our house when we’re traveling back from seeing the family in Prince Edward County. Sean on the other hand, was driving into the city (a two-and-a-half hour trip at the time) almost as soon as he could drive on his own and his mother would let him. (Buddy had concerts to see!) So needless to say, he’s a little braver than me, and does most of our driving when we are traveling as a family.

I think back to when I learned to drive. After a few bad outings with my mum where we both ended up crying thanks to nerves on both ends, we decided that she would not be my main experienced driver. So I went out with her friends and my soon-to-be-stepda and everyone’s nerves calmed down. I still drove with my mum, but not as much. It was a big moment for us when I was driving to the mall and she started cleaning out her purse.

Now my mum is just relieved that she doesn’t have to do all the city driving when she comes up to visit.

Being home on mat leave was what really got me driving in this city. It was either get brave and drive or be stuck at home. Yes, there’s public transit in Toronto and we used it too, but strollers in subways don’t always mix and doing errands is much easier with a car, especially with a young baby.

I can’t predict what kind of driver Flora will be at this age, but I do hope she takes the best habits from both of us, and we’ll do our best to teach her the rest (with the help of a capable driving instructor).

…where I realize I may need a kick in the pants

melissa — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 01:55:12 +0000

Lately, I’ve been full of ideas. Lots of ideas. Big ones, small ones, work-related, life-related, web-related – they run the gamut.

I haven’t really tried to act on any of them.

Sure, I’ve done a lot of “research” – manic Googling about the various things I’m thinking of but don’t know much about. I’m starting to realize that all this research, reading, whatever you want to call it, is just a form of procrastination and I just to need to figure out what I want to actually do and *do it*.

These last few sentences were hard to write, and I must have interrupted myself at least ten different times while writing them. Analyze that, will you?

I like ticking items off of lists. Maybe I need to write some new ones and start with those things. A little focus would probably go a long way.

…where I realize I may need a kick in the pants © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.

That’s my bush!

melissa — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 12:00:26 +0000

For those of you reading this at work: this post isn’t as dirty as it sounds. But now that I’ve made you look…

I snapped this picture of the rosebush growing in my front yard on Wednesday morning (click picture to see a larger version). I’m shocked at how healthy this plant is this year. Normally, it grows a few leaves and stems, pops a bloom or two and that’s it. This year it’s beautiful and I’m glad that my previous efforts to dig it up were unsuccessful.

You see, I haven’t had a very good relationship with this bush. It was here when we moved into our house, and my less-than-green thumb and its scraggly appearance made me think I should just dig it up. I’ve tried several times over the last few gardening seasons. I cut it back, start digging and discover the root is as this as my wrist so I say forget it and curse at it for pricking me whenever I get too close.

I have done nothing special to make this bush bloom. I haven’t even watered the flower garden – I’ve just let nature take its course. The warm weather and humidity must have made it happy. Although, now that it’s been raining for the last couple days it’s looking a little droopy and rough for wear.

But still, I’m thrilled that I finally got to see the bush bloom. I’ll probably be back to trying to yank it out of my garden next year.

Anonymity, Authenticity and Being Brave

melissa — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 04:00:24 +0000

Last week, I posted this to my Twitter account:

As you can see, I’ve been fantasizing about creating anonymous alter-egos to vent online about stuff I’m too chicken to associate my real name with on Google. The idea of doing that bothers me because I’ve always prided myself on being transparent and “authentic” by curating nearly my entire online presence under my real name.

But really, are my thoughts any more authentic because I’m willing associate my name with them? Should the people out there writing really painful, emotional stuff (or any kind of stuff, really) under pseudonyms get less respect and have their experiences considered as less real just because I can’t find the writer in the phone book? That’s not fair, and it’s an insult to anyone who writes about anything online. It’s an insult to anyone that writes, period.

Even though I write under my real name, I still question if I am being authentic enough. Sometimes I think I sanitize things a little too much. If you know me in real life, you know that I speak with a lot more “dude”, swears and slang than I do here. I believe in the “write like you talk” method, at least some of the time (and a personal website is probably one of the best places to write like you talk). Why am I not using that method more? It’s not like I’m writing incredibly highbrow stuff here.

I want to be brave. I need to be braver. I don’t want to write about every detail of my life. No one would want to read it, and I don’t have the time to write it. I just want to be braver about the stuff I do share with the world.

Do you write with the same voice you speak to your closest friends with? Do you want to?

Anonymity, Authenticity and Being Brave © melissa price-mitchell, Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada.