To change the subject from the serious lack of REM sleep happening in this house, let's talk about something else. Something not related to the cranky-making bits of parenting.
Stéphane just joined Vimeo and started a really cool filmmaking/editing project. Check it out.
He also posted this nifty little 60 second slice of happiness:
Now that's what I'm talkin' about.
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Sucky Sugar Baby
It's Sunday night, 9:20 PM. Normally we'd be fretting about hearing Liliane chatter away to herself still awake at this hour. Normally we'd have already heard every kind of request from socks on/off to scratching itchy feet/legs/fingers to soothing sore teeth. By now we would have surely already threatened to close her bedroom door, then actually closed her bedroom door and timed the minutes of yowling protest.
You see bedtime is much more complicated than it used to be. We're going on five months of this anti-sleep routine (although worse currently due to teething I HOPE) but there is a little voice in my head suggesting that this is perhaps just a phase. That my shoulders will one day stop aching in anticipation of the dreaded toddler bedtime. That I will stop hearing YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG in every post-8PM wail.
But tonight, I don't know what happened. She didn't nap today (weird) but we had her bathed and cuddled and storied by 8 and she was asleep by 8:30. We got lots of fresh air yesterday and she slept through the entire night. Of course that was the night that I stayed out until 1AM but hello! Of COURSE that's how it works! She got out a little this morning for church but due to the major inconvenience of having mucky wet snow falling this afternoon, we didn't go out again. Fresh air theory, dashed.
I don't know why I try and figure these things out. Kids are a mystery. End of story.
ANYWAY, I think I took these sometime in January but it could have been today because this is the outfit Liliane wears constantly. She loves it. It's the blue flowered shirt and stripey leggings phase. (My new favourite word!)
She has come full circle from being terrified of the vacuum to embracing its mysterious (and loud) power.
Stéphane showed her the ropes and she was a natural.
I am so not afraid that this vacuum is going to eat my foot! Really!
I save all my best dance moves for you, vacuum!
So speaking of being out late, I was at a Cabane à sucre (Sugar Shack) last night where I almost died from gastronomical amazingness. For my west coast readers, the Sugar Shack is a big-time tradition out here in maple syrup land. It's basically a drive out to the country when the sap is running to sit at a big wooden table and indulge in a feast wherein everything has to do with maple syrup. And I mean everything. Now the cabane I went to is run by Martin Picard, celebrated chef of Au Pied du cochon. Last year he opened a sugar shack and it went so well that all the spots for this year were reserved in advance. All of them. I just so happen to be friendly with someone who had the foresight (and room on his credit card) to book a 10-person table.
I forgot to bring my camera, but I think that's just as well. Seriously don't think I could handle looking at the scene of the crime... I poached these pictures from FB:
That's Brigitte, my partner in navigation and without whom I would surely be STILL trying to find the place. Beside her is my pal Puelo (a.k.a Gregory), the smarty pants who booked the whole thing last year, then me, then Jean and Albert who are on a plane to Paris as I type this. After Paris? Barcelona. But I was nice to them anyway.
There were five more people of whom I don't have any photos but trust me, they too were adorable.
My cleavage and I cut the maple mille feuille.
In the foreground, maple tire (pronounced teer, nothing to do with cars I promise) which is like super sticky maple syrup poured on snow (cracked ice in our case) then you take your popsicle stick, roll it on there, put it in your mouth and die from delight. In the background? That would be a banana split with maple cotton candy and homemade marshmallows.
Just for fun, this was the menu:
Arugula with ham and walnuts and oreilles de crisse (Christ's ears, huh?) which is deep fried pork jowls. That was the SALAD.
Chicken feet in BBQ sauce (I had to abstain. They really look like feet.)
Tourtière with homemade ketchup
Omelet with smoked mackerel and brisket
Gravlax with homemade creton and buckwheat pancakes (the most amazing combination EVER - who knew? Besides Martin Picard?)
Pea soup with foie gras
AND THEN IT WAS THE MAIN COURSE. No, seriously.
Cabbage leaves stuffed with lobster, foie gras and pork on lentils.
Duck and veal tongue on I don't remember. I was a little woozy at this point.
Big break until dessert (thankfully) which was the banana split and the tire and the mille feuille pictured above but it was also crepes in maple syrup AND maple donuts, both fried in duck fat.
You see why I have issues today?
Also, note to the members of my family who are dying to know how I handled my maple syrup phobia:
1. Yes, the utensils got sticky almost immediately. I had issues.
2. I did not spill maple syrup on the table and have to wipe it up with napkins, nor did anyone in my immediate vicinity.
3. This visit confirmed that I will NEVER EVER bring Liliane to a sugar shack. Maybe when she's 18. She went on Friday with daycare and that's A-OK by me.
In movie news: Prep week two starts tomorrow. Best way to start the weekend? Confirming Gil Bellows!
Oh yes. I did squealing jumpy claps in the office. I admit it. He's dreamy. C'mon people, he's BILLY for crying out loud. Billy from Ally McBeal! Plus he happens to be not only talented, but Canadian! An all-around cool guy who likes the project and wants to come and be a part of it. Plus he has an 11-year old daughter. Stop it, I'm dying.
Anyway, that's about it. Fingers crossed for an actual full night of sleep. Will keep you posted.
You see bedtime is much more complicated than it used to be. We're going on five months of this anti-sleep routine (although worse currently due to teething I HOPE) but there is a little voice in my head suggesting that this is perhaps just a phase. That my shoulders will one day stop aching in anticipation of the dreaded toddler bedtime. That I will stop hearing YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG in every post-8PM wail.
But tonight, I don't know what happened. She didn't nap today (weird) but we had her bathed and cuddled and storied by 8 and she was asleep by 8:30. We got lots of fresh air yesterday and she slept through the entire night. Of course that was the night that I stayed out until 1AM but hello! Of COURSE that's how it works! She got out a little this morning for church but due to the major inconvenience of having mucky wet snow falling this afternoon, we didn't go out again. Fresh air theory, dashed.
I don't know why I try and figure these things out. Kids are a mystery. End of story.
ANYWAY, I think I took these sometime in January but it could have been today because this is the outfit Liliane wears constantly. She loves it. It's the blue flowered shirt and stripey leggings phase. (My new favourite word!)
She has come full circle from being terrified of the vacuum to embracing its mysterious (and loud) power.
Stéphane showed her the ropes and she was a natural.
I am so not afraid that this vacuum is going to eat my foot! Really!
I save all my best dance moves for you, vacuum!
So speaking of being out late, I was at a Cabane à sucre (Sugar Shack) last night where I almost died from gastronomical amazingness. For my west coast readers, the Sugar Shack is a big-time tradition out here in maple syrup land. It's basically a drive out to the country when the sap is running to sit at a big wooden table and indulge in a feast wherein everything has to do with maple syrup. And I mean everything. Now the cabane I went to is run by Martin Picard, celebrated chef of Au Pied du cochon. Last year he opened a sugar shack and it went so well that all the spots for this year were reserved in advance. All of them. I just so happen to be friendly with someone who had the foresight (and room on his credit card) to book a 10-person table.
I forgot to bring my camera, but I think that's just as well. Seriously don't think I could handle looking at the scene of the crime... I poached these pictures from FB:
That's Brigitte, my partner in navigation and without whom I would surely be STILL trying to find the place. Beside her is my pal Puelo (a.k.a Gregory), the smarty pants who booked the whole thing last year, then me, then Jean and Albert who are on a plane to Paris as I type this. After Paris? Barcelona. But I was nice to them anyway.
There were five more people of whom I don't have any photos but trust me, they too were adorable.
My cleavage and I cut the maple mille feuille.
In the foreground, maple tire (pronounced teer, nothing to do with cars I promise) which is like super sticky maple syrup poured on snow (cracked ice in our case) then you take your popsicle stick, roll it on there, put it in your mouth and die from delight. In the background? That would be a banana split with maple cotton candy and homemade marshmallows.
Just for fun, this was the menu:
Arugula with ham and walnuts and oreilles de crisse (Christ's ears, huh?) which is deep fried pork jowls. That was the SALAD.
Chicken feet in BBQ sauce (I had to abstain. They really look like feet.)
Tourtière with homemade ketchup
Omelet with smoked mackerel and brisket
Gravlax with homemade creton and buckwheat pancakes (the most amazing combination EVER - who knew? Besides Martin Picard?)
Pea soup with foie gras
AND THEN IT WAS THE MAIN COURSE. No, seriously.
Cabbage leaves stuffed with lobster, foie gras and pork on lentils.
Duck and veal tongue on I don't remember. I was a little woozy at this point.
Big break until dessert (thankfully) which was the banana split and the tire and the mille feuille pictured above but it was also crepes in maple syrup AND maple donuts, both fried in duck fat.
You see why I have issues today?
Also, note to the members of my family who are dying to know how I handled my maple syrup phobia:
1. Yes, the utensils got sticky almost immediately. I had issues.
2. I did not spill maple syrup on the table and have to wipe it up with napkins, nor did anyone in my immediate vicinity.
3. This visit confirmed that I will NEVER EVER bring Liliane to a sugar shack. Maybe when she's 18. She went on Friday with daycare and that's A-OK by me.
In movie news: Prep week two starts tomorrow. Best way to start the weekend? Confirming Gil Bellows!
Oh yes. I did squealing jumpy claps in the office. I admit it. He's dreamy. C'mon people, he's BILLY for crying out loud. Billy from Ally McBeal! Plus he happens to be not only talented, but Canadian! An all-around cool guy who likes the project and wants to come and be a part of it. Plus he has an 11-year old daughter. Stop it, I'm dying.
Anyway, that's about it. Fingers crossed for an actual full night of sleep. Will keep you posted.
Thursday, 11 March 2010
Chicks Rule!
Hello from Princess Land!
We've been pretty busy around here.
Working on our twirly skirt dance moves.
Learning how to use our new magic wand.
Organizing our royal accessories.
And generally being ADORABLE. Is that part of the princess deal? Apparently.
This ultra girly moment has been brought to you by our dear friends Eric and Tina. They brought the princess gear over when they visited back in January. Now instead of being a plain and simple li'l dictator, she's a mostly benevolent, satin-clad dictator. With a crown.
Truth be told, Liliane's true love these days is this character:
Not your Mama's Tinkerbell! Modern Tinkerbell is articulate and HANDY. She's a TINKER! She DOES THINGS! I only remember the original Tinkerbell sort of stomping her feet angrily whenever Peter Pan was ignoring her. Not anymore. We have been watching the Tinkerbell movie pretty much everyday for the last few weeks and I have to say that it's pretty cute. Plus there are fat fairies in Neverland. Curvy fairies who are beautiful! And smart! And successful! Bravo Disney, bravo.
Speaking of bravo, what about that Kathryn Bigelow!? The first ever Best Director Oscar was awarded to a woman in 2010. Hard to belive. And what a well-deserved win. The Hurt Locker is an excellent, excellent movie. Can't wait to see what she'll do next.
Speaking of movies (ooh, what clever segues, NOT) I've been just a little busy at work lately. You see, the preparation for shooting a film is as stressful as the shoot itself in many ways. And the only thing bigger than the prep and the shoot is the FINANCING. Which is what we're locking up right now.
But you might say: "hey! you're fully financed! what's the problem?" It's the crushing, neverending load of PAPERWORK that comes with all those blithe and cheery committment letters. Hey, we love your project, we'd love to give you some money! But before you see a nickel, please provide us with all the items on this 18 page list. No, it's not a scavenger hunt, it's a SERIOUS DOCUMENT to be taken SERIOUSLY. If we ask you the size of your underwear, we expect you to hand over that information. On an 8.5 x 11 piece of paper in 12 point font. Times New Roman. DO NOT USE ARIAL. WE ARE SERIOUS.
I kid.
Sort of. But think about it for a minute. Big chunks of Canadian film financing come from the government. So imagine doing your taxes... times about a bazillion.
No, really. It just SEEMS random and ridiculous because there's just so much of it, but it's all coming together. Official prep starts on Monday and the tidal wave of documents should start to recede in the next few weeks. It's actually really exciting once you get to this point. And it's the first film I've done since having a baby so it's been fun to flex those muscles again.
OK, time to end random babbling and rest up for another day of glitz and glamour at the photocopier. As Liliane would say "Et... voilà! Terminé!"
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