my secret identity

picture this woman:  she's wearing keens, mid-thigh khaki shorts, a comfortable yet fashionable shirt (probably bought at one of those earth-conscious stores), there's a well-worn nalgene bottle in her hand, half full.  her legs look strong, her hair is relaxed - no fuss, she's wearing makeup?  minimally, with a corded bracelet.  she's carrying a baby in a backpack and has just come from hiking a mountain.

this is the woman i've always wanted to be.

i'm turning 37 in two weeks and have finally come to grips with the fact that i will never, ever, be this woman.

i've been on holidays for almost a month - we've been to a cabin in saskatoon, a camp on vancouver island, grandparents in the lower mainland of BC, and now i'm with the kids at my parents in Ontario.  somewhere, in this journey, i must have caught a glimpse of myself:  wearing a dress, manicured hair, sandals with rhinestones, chunky bracelet, makeup and purse.  i was holding a travel mug with tea, and was showered and changed after my jillian micheals workout dvd.  somehow, in that glimpse, a wakeup call sounded: it's time to embrace myself and let the dream of outdoorsy-casual-low-maintenance janet make way for the reality of indoorsy-dressy-medium-maintenance janet. 

i look better, and feel more comfortable, in a dress than in shorts. 
i don't like hiking mountains.   
i like a little flavouring in my water.  and caffeine. 
i look prettier with some mascara and lipstick. 
so what?

this, i must tell you, has been a freeing revelation.  i went shopping with a dear friend down in washington, and i didn't even try on a pair of pants - only leggings!  it was so relaxing to walk into a store and think about what i actually wanted to wear instead of what i wished i would wear.  does that make sense?  see ya later shorts and sweatshirts.  hello cardigans and sundresses!

i've gotten the line "why are you so dressed up?" a few times (especially at camp :)), but I'm getting less and less embarrassed when it comes.  i answer "this is the way i dress".  doesn't that sound mature?  for the first few weeks i felt the need to explain this revelation to everyone.  most of them looked at me like "it took you this long?".  i guess everyone else has been in on this secret except me.

wouldn't you know i'd be the last one in on my own secret identity.

so, i'm off in my maxi dress to get my birthday present from my parents:  leather boots.

leaks

i know that Tolstoy is famous.  i know that many people give him acclaim for his writing skills.  but still, this passage was surprising:

however painful the mother's fear....the children themselves repaid her griefs with small joys.  these joys were so small that they could not be seen, like gold in the sand, and in her bad moments she saw only griefs, only sand;  but there were also good moments, when she saw only joys, only gold.

yes, i'm reading Anna Karenina, and i confess that i'm reading it because i want to watch the upcoming movie with insight.  and it's great.  and it's long.  but worth it when you come across little gems like the sentences above. 

i've seen a lot of gold this week.  my husband is (finally!) on holidays and i definitely love being a mom more when there's a father around.  we spent the last 5 days at pike lake, staying at a friends cabin.  it was all a cabin should be - a little leaky, filled with windows and yellow walls, clean enough for comfort, relaxed enough that you're not reaching for the broom every day.  a large wrap around deck leading you down to the lake, Adirondack chair and canoe.  sounds dreamy right?  it was. 

and the golden moments were many - my husband cannon balling off the dock to the squeals of my kids, my daughter finding an injured dragon fly and carrying it around on her shoulder for the rest of the day, a local beaver that swam over to visit us, my little boy jumping in the lake with his favourite flowered floaty around his waist. 

but lest you think there were no sandy times, the toilet was broken and i couldn't sit on it.  thank God i've been working out regularly or i don't think my squats would have held out.  and thank God for coffee.  coffee keeps things moving quickly, and every second counts when squatting over a foot-high trailer toilet.

on a perfectly un-related note, i was visiting a church tonight that reminded me of parkside.  small, quirky, relational, raw, simplistic and relaxed.  it was lovely, and during worship God gave me a picture of myself.  i feel keenly aware of my flaws lately, the cracks and holes that exist in this molded creation that is janet.  i was praying, asking that God would fill me with His mercy and use me to extend it to others.  and i saw this hole-riddled shell, leaking out what God puts in.  without our imperfections we would be oblivious to the gift that grace is.  God uses our frailty to wake us up to His perfection, and to equip up with empathy for the frail beside us - our sisters and husbands and kids and friends... my holes are the means of God's mercy leaking out to others.

so, leaky toilets and leaky lives.  thankfully i don't have to do penance with squats.

thoughts on age

a couple weeks ago i had this dream that i was standing in line waiting to get into some function.  i didn't know what the function was, but it was in a building, and i was in line, and i was in the front!  so, i really didn't care what was inside because i was revelling in the fact that i was at the front and the scores of people behind me would just have to wait (hey - i can't help it if i'm sinful in my dreams).  i finally got through the doors.  i still couldn't see what was happening but the air was thick with anticipation and excitement.  the door attendant asked to see my ID, so i passed it over and she looked at it closely.  VERY closely.  she started scratching at my birth date to see if it would come off.  she said "promise me this isn't fake".
i was in utter shock.
i answered "i am 36 years old.  are you serious?  do you really think i need fake ID?  THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!".  i might have hugged her, my memory is a bit fuzzy at this part, and i don't think i ever made it inside much further than the doorway before i woke up.  but the meaning of the dream was clear - no need to call in the interpreters for this one.

a few days later i was talking to my friend Sonal about her leggings.
"where did you get those?  they look so good."
sheepishly she answers "lululemon"
"oh" i say
"i know they're expensive, but they literally last me 10 years so it's worth the money".
hmmm.
i go home and tell scott that i think i need to buy some lululemon leggings because mine keep shrinking (blame it on the leggings!) and look horrible and "Sonal says they'll last me ten years!"
suddenly i'm hit with the realization that in ten years i will be almost 47 years of age and will probably NOT be wearing leggings. 
"forget it," i say "i'll stick with the cheap ones".

scott is probably thinking, 'i didn't even have to say a word!'

my daughter, who is 8, recently asked me what it was like in the "old-fashioned times", when i was a kid.

my birthday is coming soon, can you tell?

but here's the truth - i wouldn't go back.  it's not worth the thin waist or the ability to eat copious amounts of food with no thought to the consequences or the lack of responsibility.  i like me better now.  i don't live afraid anymore.  i have fulfilling work and relationships and, yes, responsibilities. i adore my children.  i'm in love with my husband.  i'm living the dream at 36!

so bring on the birthday.  although i might make myself some fake ID.

reminiscing on humidity

lately it's been gloriously hot and humid.  i can say this for two reasons:  first (and foremost), i have air conditioning for the first time in my married life.  and second:  i grew up in Ontario.

Ontario in August can feel like your being slowly suffocated by a hot wet sock.  really, that lovely.  and yet, there's a part of me (and i didn't realize it until recently) that enjoys it.  i spent every summer of my childhood at a camp in the Ottawa Valley, living in a trailer, and hanging out with friends.  it was a Pentecostal camp - now, i know that's giving you visions of wild church services, complete with dancing and laughing and crying.  well, that was about it, but add to that vision the fact that these services happened every night (!!!) during family camp, and that they were held in a tin barn that conducted and stored heat like an incubator.  a barn lovingly known as the tabernacle.   as crazy as it sounds, these were magical summers for me which planted a deep desire for God in my life. 

and quite a few camp romances :).

there were many families who spent weeks on end at this camp every summer, and there's nothing like spending every day, all day, with a group of friends to solidify their place in your heart.  we played a LOT of cards, water-skied, swam, attended church, bought fundip and fries at the tuck shop, hiked through the adjacent farmlands, and pretended to smoke grass around the campfire. (and by that i don't mean marijuana, i mean grass).  sadly, i've lost touch with all of them.  but the other night i walked outside and was struck by this wall of humidity and heat and my first thought was "why don't i have cards in my hand?  i need a game!".  the air smelled sweet and sticky and my skin instantly felt prickly - it was delectable!  i was transported back to an age with few responsibilities, lots of questions and emotions, the sweet sadness of young love, languorous afternoon naps and the ecstasy of a cold lake on a hot day.

so, if you want to make my summer, the next time the humidity hits show up on my doorstep with chips in one hand and cards in the other.  i'll even let you win.

[and if anyone knows Angela Giles, Colin Wiley, Jonathan Shepherd, or Karen Kwapis tell them Janet Laing says Hello!]

i made it!

on saturday night i welcomed my third child into the world:  my art show.  9 months in the making, the delivery was surprisingly less painful than that of my first two children.  and though not quite as magical as holding a newborn in my arms, it was a delicious experience.

i was surrounded by friends, applauded by strangers, and held by my husband.  i couldn't have imagined a better night.  so, i've been described as "an artist" publicly now, and have a show to prove it.  you might not be amazed by that but i sure am.

last week i had this terrible vision while falling asleep - that scott and i died in a car crash on the way to the show.  it was quite terrifying and reminded me of when i was engaged and confident my husband would not make it to the wedding.  i could just see the headlines "woman and husband die on route to first art show".  so i was quite thrilled when my friends Lesley and Vern offered to drive us.  when we arrived i told her about my pessimism-issues and she said "i had the same thought while we were coming here..." .  good grief - it's catching!!  we made it there and back with only one moment of terror - how does a deer look so graceful and endearing in a field and like a sadistic monster in the middle of the highway?  the van was packed with friends - 7 in all - and we laughed like teenagers and i even belted out some whitney housten (until scott encouraged me to simmer down).  i wasn't the only one singing scott!


cori kay flew all the way from BC to attend the opening and i'm looking forward to one more blissful day with her here before she jets back tomorrow night.  she's one of those house guests that fits in like the furniture and plays with your children and is just as happy to sit and read a book with you as she is to make the waterpark rounds.  what a treat. 

i feel exhausted from gratitude and wonder - my cheeks hurt from smiling.  it's marvelous to feel like such a wreck.  however, i also feel my age due to the consecutive late nights and the two workouts i've done from my new "bootcamp" dvd.  i think that, despite the ridiculously hot weather, a bath is in order.  praise the Lord above for air conditioning!

thanks again to all of you who made it out, and to all who still plan on seeing the show.  good news - it's been extended until the 25th of August.  so you have lots of time to saunter out to Rosthern, enjoy an afternoon tea with saskatoon berry pie and soak in some beauty.   the play - Jake and the Kid - is truly remarkable and i would highly recommend taking it in as well.

and, of course, i would be remiss if i didn't write and enormous THANK YOU to lindsey, for making the dream a reality, and gifting me with the privilege of hanging my art next to hers.

cloudy with a chance of funnels

so it seems to be tornado season in Saskatchewan. 
"really?"  you ask, "i didn't know there were tornados in saskatchewan"

me neither.

two weeks ago my daughter had a playdate with her best friend, and just as we were putting some finishing touches on the fathers day gluten free sticky buns (oh, yeah, you read that right) the phone rang.  it was the best friends mom.  here is how the conversation went down:

"hey janet, did you know that there's a tornado warning in effect"
"oh, no.  what does that mean exactly?"
"well....you should be in the basement"
at this moment i'm looking into the eyes of her beautiful little girl, and then into the eyes of my beautiful little girl and boy - they're all crowded around me, like they can sense the calamity about to befall them.
i say
"okay kids!  there's a tornado warning!"
"what mom!!! what does that mean?!!!"
"well...we should go down to the basement.  so let's just leasurely walk down..."
                 suddenly a horrendous B-O-O-M sounds as it thunders directly over our house (or, at least it felt that way).

pandamonium.  all three are screaming.  they're also laughing and looking around them with the widest eyes possible.  picture the look of hysteria.  one of them makes a bolt for the stairs, and then they're all running.  my daughter makes it halfway down and turns around.   she's now running upstairs to her room, then she's back down holding two dolls:
"NOT WITHOUT MY BABIES" she screams. 

"i should probably get off the phone now" i say.

i get the kids (and the babies) settled with mah-jong on my computor in the basement, then phone scott, thinking he was in a window-less room in the church and probably had no idea his life was in peril.  but, no.  he informed me that he had known all afternoon about the warning.

thanks. 
thanks for calling.

"no big deal" he says, "just keep looking out the windows and if you see some funny looking clouds go downstairs".

i look out the back window.  i look out the front window.  and i realize i don't have any windows on one side of the house!  and anyways, i'm supposed to be staying away from the windows!!!

half an hour later the storm had past.  but it's left me with this question - how is it that i left the threat of a possible earthquake in my lifetime and moved to the threat of a probable tornado in my lifetime?
i used to watch the news about florida and think, why would you live in a place where there are continual hurricanes?  are you friends in bc watching the news over the last few weeks and thinking the same about me? 


although i'm not a fan of tornados, i AM a fan of thunderstorms, and we're having a doozy tonight.  we turned off all the lights after supper,  watched the lightning,  got out the three new flashlights scott won at the men's golf tournament a few weeks ago, and read the storybook "blackout".  then the kids played hide and seek in the dark with scott until bedtime.  there's nothing like a self-inforced blackout.  you can still make yourself a cup of tea. :)

my show gets hung this weekend, and my opening night is next.  i have thirteen paintings crammed into my home - which will soon feel dismally empty once their gone.  it's like a dream that i'm actually having a show, in a gallery, where bonified artists have hung their work before me.  i'm excited and terrified and shy and exuberant all at the same time.  maybe that's why i've been so lazy lately - i'm too emotionally taxed for vacuuming.

and weary of peeking out my windows for funnel clouds.

leah came to visit me last weekend.  there's nothing for the spirits like an old friend, some good food (chocolate fondue, thai restaurant, and my camembert hashbrowns), conversation, prayer and the surprising joy of watching my new friends collide with my past.  each moment dripped with deliciousness.  and cori's coming out for my opening night so i'll have the chance to do it all again!  i'm feeling pretty spoiled.

may your skies be clear and your friends dear....and your blackouts self-induced.

prairie girl

i have passed a sacred prairie initiation, and am now one step closer to the title "prairie girl".  i'm not sure what other initiations i must go through, i'm sure they will be self-evident such as this one was...  but let's back up a bit shall we?
on friday i was in the shower, soaping up my back, when i noticed a new mole.  hmmm....i thought.  i was told to keep track of such anomalies.  so, i checked it out.  and it moved.
oh, yay.  you read right.  it MOVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

suddenly i had a flashback:  it was a cool summer evening last year.  i was with my family and some new saskatoonian friends up at Blackstrap lake.   our friends were staying for the weekend, and had invited us up for dinner.  we were just about to leave, feeling filled up with the beauty of nature, friendship and food.  i looked out over the lake, our kids were running along it's edge with  a beautiful frolicking dog.  one of the boys had a remote controlled boat zooming through the water beside them.  despite the descending mosquitos, the evening felt pretty perfect.   we started expressing our thank-yous and goodbyes, then someone says "make sure you check for ticks". 

"yah,  right."  i say.  funny prairie people thinking i'm going to swallow that one.

"no, we're serious.  you need to check.  everywhere.  and we mean, everywhere."

nervous giggle.
i scan the faces... they seem like they're trying to look serious and a little bit sympathetic, but i can also detect some smiles hiding in the corners of their mouths.  "sure," i say.

let me describe a tick to you.  it looks like a child's drawing of a bug.  it's round with legs shooting straight out in multiple directions - kind of like a sun.  my daughter (who ran into the bathroom to rescue me when she heard me yelling) calmly explained that she learned in her grade two health class that ticks can not be crushed - you have to flush them down the toilet.  "their shells are too hard mommy".  nice. 

they don't hurt, they don't leave a bite mark or even an itch.  but i had to pull the little sucker off me like a leech.  i just had to close my eyes and regroup for a second after writing that last sentence. 

so, with my brave girl encouraging me forward i caught the tick off the shower floor (where i had thrown it and immediately stepped out of the shower.  who needs to rinse?) and flushed it down the toilet.  then, i got into a pretty dress and some sparkly jewelery to try and mask the fact that i have no idea how long that thing was living on me and i feel disgusting and where the heck did i get it?  and i need to feel a little bit like a princess for just a moment so back off!! 

my daughter kindly assured me that the tick they found on someone in their class was MUCH bigger.
fantastic! 

miraculously enough, i still want to be a prairie girl.  in fact, i cried today at the thought of ever leaving.  i love you Saskatoon, ticks and all.