From A to Zed?!?

Do me a favor y'all... sing the Alphabet Song. Go ahead. Sing it.

If it makes you feel any better, I'll sing it with you.

Ready. Set. Go!

A-B-C-D-E-F-G... H-I-J-K-LMNOP... Q-R-S... T-U-V... W-X... Y-Zed.

Ha! Gotcha! You heard me, I said "Zed". Betcha didn't see that coming, now did ya?!

Where is this coming from, you ask? Well... we went to Orientation last Thursday night for Junior Kindergarten. Yes, my little sweetpea will be starting full-day, lunchbox and backpack, flashcards and library cards, mommy-can't-walk-her-inside-the-classroom, big-kid-school JUNIOR KINDERGARTEN in September. September! Three months from now. Did I mention that it's in a big kid school where she'll be the littlest kid? And did you hear the part where they told me I was forbidden from dropping her off inside the classroom, that I just have to leave her at the curb with one of the aides?! September. Three months. My baby. Real school. Where did the time go?!

I digress.

As I was saying, we were at Orientation last week. One of the dads asked a teacher for clarification on the last letter of the alphabet.

Excuse me? Clarification? It's the freakin' alphabet... it's the same everywhere.

WRONG!

The answer I heard come out of that teacher's mouth was "well, Americans say Z but Canadians say Zed. It's Zed. Always Zed." And that's the point where I packed up Savannah's stuff, grabbed her by the wrist, and made a run for the nearest exit! Oh, I kid. We didn't really run away... instead I raised my hand and asked if it would be okay for Savannah to say "Z" because we ARE American.

Seriously. I did.

Orientation was setup in four different rotations. In the first rotation, we learned about the school's reading program. Impressive. Really impressive. I think I like the Canadian school system. The second rotation was play-doh fun. It also happens to be the rotation where the letter "Zed" first made its appearance. Strike One against the grand ole Canadian school system! The third rotation was a cut-and-paste center, where Savannah absolutely amazed me by writing her name. Y'all, she WROTE her name. We've been trying to draw the letter S for months, to no avail... but she learned. And she's proud. And let me tell ya, that child has one LONG name. The fourth and final rotation was an alphabet center. This station was particularly enjoyable because we got to meet Savannah's JK teacher... the hyperactive, child-loving, crazy but passionate Mrs H that will shape our little one's first year in "real" school. This is also the station where I decided I will never again sing the Alphabet Song...

Y'all, "Zed" does not rhyme with "Vee"... it just doesn't. And the Alphabet Song doesn't sound right when it doesn't rhyme... it just doesn't. And I can't bring myself to sing "X-Y-Zed"... I just can't. By those little pre-JK kids did it. Every single one of them sang "X-Y-Zed" instead of "X-Y-Z", even my sweet Savannah. And a cried a little tear.

Apparently this is just the beginning of the confusion for my sweet little S. First it's "Zed". Then it's that stinkin' extra "U" in words like "colour" and "favourite". Next it will be "Oh Canada" instead of the "Star Spangled Banner". Dare I mention that she's decided she wants a brown and white kitty named "Vlinter"... except we live in Canada, so it will have to be "Vlintre"?! Someone rescue my poor multi-national child!!

Snow!

Enough said...

Hello? Anyone home?!

I apologize for the rather long hiatus from this blog. Part of it is because I wonder if anyone reads my ramblings other than me… and, trust me, I do enough talking to myself without needing to write it down. Another part of it is because there were holidays involved. Holidays that were accompanied by travelling. Lots of travelling. But, quite possibly, the biggest reason for leaving y’all hanging for so long is that I haven’t known which end was up for a couple of months. True, Mrs Organized was completely discombobulated and feeling totally out of control. That being said, we’re back… new, improved, and officially relocated! For those of you for whom we actually have a mailing address, you’ll be getting a cute little card in the mail with this adorable picture and our new address in the very near future. Once I figure out how the Canadian mail system works. Hmm.

Speaking of Canada, here’s some interesting things we’ve learned in the few weeks since we officially relocated…
** Milk comes in bags. Yes, bags. Plastic ones. And, no, they’re not resealable. You buy a pitcher, one specifically for milk, you cut the corner off the little one liter milk bag, you put the little plastic bag in the pitcher, and you pour. And the wonder of these pitchers! The bag doesn’t fall out. Even when it’s empty. Amazing. Weird, but amazing.
** Alcohol. Canadians are a drinking people. Problem is, they haven’t fully grasped the concept of one-stop shopping. At the grocery store when you get a beer urge? Sorry Charlie. Beer is only sold at The Beer Store. (Yes, that’s really what it’s called!) And wine and liquor are only sold at liquor stores, typically the LCBO. For an alcohol-consuming bunch of folks like these crazy Canadians, you think they’d make it a little easier. Alas, a beer run actually takes effort.
** Our house. It’s new. Brand new. And apparently FedEx and DHL don’t think we exist. People have tried, to no avail. So, if you want to send us packages that don’t come via Canada Post, let us know in advance and I’ll give you an alternate address. That’s right, no surprise packages for the Valentines.
** Speaking of FedEx, I seriously almost had to show the FedEx man ID when he delivered a package to work on Thursday. I signed for the package, which wasn’t for me, so he had to confirm my first initial and last name. When I told him what my last name was, he let out a few choice words and honestly couldn’t believe it. Yes, it was Valentine’s Day. Yes, my last name is Valentine. Yes, you’re the 387th person to make a comment like that to me today.
** And speaking of choice words. Canadians use them. A lot. And quite flippantly. Not good for little ears. Or stressed-out mommas.
** Buggies. You have to PAY for them at the grocery store. You heard me… deposit a quarter and get a buggy. Return the buggy, plug it back in to the rest of the chain of buggies, and your quarter will be returned. Strange. Very strange.
** I still can’t convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit. I just know it’s cold. I also have no clue how many liters are in a gallon. I just know gas is expensive. And how many kilometers are in a mile? Don’t even go there.
** Language. We’re in trouble when Savannah starts Junior Kindergarten in September. I refuse to spell colour or neighbourhood or centre as the Canadians would. And I won’t say process with a long O. Nor will I end a sentence with the word “eh” (though Todd has bets that I’ll be fluent in “eh” within the next month!). And let’s not even talk about the fact that Savannah will know the words to Oh Canada long before she even knows The Star Spangled Banner exists.

Oh Canada! You are different. You are crazy. You are freakin’ cold. But we’re enjoying you.

Now that we’re somewhat settled, the boxes are mostly unpacked, and the nearest LCBO has been located, I promise I’ll try to do a better job of keeping everyone updated on our journey in Canada. More Canadian idiosyncrasies to follow, of that you can be sure. I’ll do my best to capture the first time Savannah says “eh” or “aboot”. I could also start a ticker to track the amount of time Todd stands in amazement at the offerings of The Beer Store. Or you could all take bets on when my American accent will completely disappear and nobody will have a clue that I wasn’t born and bred Canadian (the horror!). And, hey, dig out those passports and come for a visit… we’d love to have you!

These are the days...

... I realize that I really do live in a different country. It's so funny to me. Canada is right across the border from the US, right... I mean, Canadians are just our "neighbors to the North". Better yet, our house in Michigan is within 30 or 45 minutes of the border. How different could it really be?! The answer: very different. Sometimes I think they think I'm an alien. Case in point:

I had a business dinner last night at a very nice Italian restaurant, which somehow turned into a conversation about All-You-Can-Eat Buffets. One of my coworkers mentioned that he was on a business trip to the Atlanta area several years ago, and his customer was so excited to take him to an All-You-Can-Eat Buffet because... well, because apparently they don't have them in Canada. And if you do happen to find one, it's a special treat. Like a put-on-your-Sunday-best, say-yes-ma'am-and-please-and-thank-you, you-only-get-it-once-in-your-life kind of treat.

Enter the Southern accent! "Y'all don't have buffets?!" "Bless your heart!" "Where does everyone go after church on Sunday?" "Imagine the dessert selection at those places!" "You're missin' out, really missin' out."

I grew up in Georgia, people... I think it's the homeland of All-You-Can-Eat Buffets. I started explaining the bagillions of buffets we had at home, and the frequency at which we dined at such establishments, and I'm fairly certain I dropped a few notches on the "Americans aren't so bad" scale. I think we ate at Shoney's once a week. And I'm fairly certain I've never seen a Shoney's menu. Or what about Ryan's. That was a buffet, too, right, especially for the church crowd on Sundays. And we can't neglect CiCi's pizza or the Pizza Hut buffet, because we all need to eat that much pizza. But I think my favorite, and the one my Canadian counterparts found most appalling, was the Hartz buffet... a buffet of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and biscuits and corn and peach cobbler... yum yum yum!

Then the conversation turned. I honestly think they were just trying to get a reaction out of me, make me feel completely alien. Next subject: the church potluck. This coworker of mine was talking about a family vacation to a park in South Carolina and the fact that the after-church crowd showed up with mounds of food and a barbeque in their pickup. A "barbeque"? Oh, he means a grill. And is it really that strange? Really? I mean, how else are you gonna feed all those people. I'm Baptist y'all. The one thing we know how to do is eat. We had lots of church picnics... and potlucks... and "progressive suppers" in the back of a dumptruck filled with hay. Totally normal. Especially the dumptruck part.

At work today, I was asked by three different girls to bring back jars of peanut butter when I go home this weekend. Yes, peanut butter. You see, they sell peanut butter in Canada (though it's completely banned in schools - the horror!), but they don't sell Reese's peanut butter. Did these girls try my peanut butter? No. They want it simply because it's Reese's and they can't get it here. And I'm supposed to bring back a few Whatchamacallit bars, too, because apparently they don't have those in Canada either. And some Warm Vanilla Sugar soap from Bath & Body Works. Again, another thing lacking from the Canadian lifestyle. And Target. I need to find a way to get Target to open a store or two in Canada because I'm having withdrawals. Major withdrawals.

Someone rescue me please. I've been abducted by aliens... or just some crazy Canadians!

Hockey...

Savannah has decided that she wants to play hockey. No questions asked. We can't sway her. We tried soccer. We tried tennis. We tried any other sport we could think of. No. She wants to play hockey. Good thing we're moving to Canada....



Since Georgia is severely lacking in ice skating opportunities, meaning I've set foot on a skating rink about three times in my entire life, I decided to start Savannah off on a little more solid ground. We went to Target last night and bought Savannah a pair of the old-school roller skates that strap to your shoes. When choosing between Disney princesses and Dora, she picked Dora hands-down. Savannah is now the proud owner of Dora skates, Dora kneepads, and Dora elbowpads... and she's adorable. We spent nearly an hour skating in the basement last night. Wait, maybe "skating" isn't the right word to use. There was a lot of falling down. There was a lot of picking up her feet and walking. There was a lot of being dragged around by me. There was a lot of foot-shuffling. I don't think she actually managed to skate. But she tried. She focused hard. And she had a blast.



Watch out, here's our future Kanuck!!