Posts in My sister knows the most philosophiez
It's Looking Hella Christmas 'Round These Parts {Wordless Wednesday}

This is the first year that Mr. Chef and I have gotten our acts together and put up a Christmas tree. Well, except for that one random year in Shanghai when we made my sister, who was fresh of the airplane and visiting us for the holidays, run around town in search of a Christmas tree while I was at work. Christmas trees pretty much didn't exist in China back then. Christmas miracle of Christmas miracles, not only did she make it back to the apartment by herself, she also came back with a random cyprus tree hacked off halfway down it's trunk and we fashioned a tree stand out of a coke bottle. We didn't have decorations. Or lights. Well, we did, actually, for a moment  have lights, as my mother had sent some along with my sister. But we fried them to smithereens when we plugged them in, not thinking about the voltage difference because we're dumdums. It was all a bit low rent, but also awesome. Anyway, this year, we're being grown ups.








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That Time I Was on an Episode of Survivorman

Expatria Baby is a 100 per cent city property.

Despite being practically born on a boat, educated in a canoe and raised by two certified nature hippies, I think that nature is gross. There are bugs and dirt in it. And I don't like pointy, stabby razor rocks. Or fish that touch me. Or turtles that swim in the water. Or algae that sullies my delicate complexion. The furthest I'd venture into the wilderness is onto the dock. To suntan. But not too much because, wrinkles. So great is my disdain for nature that when I lived in the Rocky Mountains, I never once went on a hike. And that IS an accomplishment seeing as how you have to ramble up some rocky trails just to get to work every day.

Please keep this in mind as you view the following ridiculous images of Expatria Baby à la Survivorman.


We woke up to a beautiful clear day and calm waters and decided that a trip to Ragged Rock was in order. A dangerous, fraught voyage through the bay in which we had to brave such obstacles as GETTING BEER INTO THE BOAT and MAKING SURE WE ALL HAD SEATS TO SIT ON. 

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Our back bay. A dangerous and foreboding wilderness. 

A narrow channel cut though guessed it...RAGGED ROCK face, Ragged Rock is a favourite site of cliff jumping bravery and picnicking deliciousness. And blueberries. Lots and lots of wild blueberries. The picking of which is a severe OCD addiction for my mother. I am not kidding when I say that we have NOTHING in the freezer except for blueberries. Bags and bags and bags of blueberries.

Anyway, picnicking obviously equals hot dog roasting. So we had to build a fire. AND LIT IT WITHOUT AN EFFING MATCH JUST LIKE SURVIVORMAN OR BEAR GRYLLS IN ONLY TWO TRIES because we are so badass like that.*

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Is that Survivorman? Or Brother-in-(Common)-Law?

*When I say "we" I obviously mean my brother-in-(common)-law because seriously. Fire. Sticks. Rocks. Dirt. Sparks. Burning. Owwie.  

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Fire. We build it.

And about those hot dogs. We didn't exactly have any. And the sensible thing to do was, clearly, to make kefta and bannock. WHICH IS EXACTLY LIKE NATURE HOT DOGS AND JUST WHAT SURVIVOR MAN WOULD DO WERE HE TO HAVE THE ENTIRE CONTENTS OF A FULLY STOCKED BLUEBERRY FRIDGE AT HIS DISPOSAL.  Although, I will tell you that gluten-free bannock does not behave as you would expect and thus, instead of forming a dough that could be easily wrapped around a roasting stick, it made more of a batter that we had no choice but to pour into a ghetto nature muffin tin. 

Ghetto wilderness improvisational gluten-free bannock muffin. Which is exactly what Survivorman eats.

As it was a sunny day, and my daughter has the same delicate complexion that I do, I was worried about sunburn. And eventual wrinkles. (She'll thank me later.) So, we crafted A SUPER BADASS OUTDOOR NATURE SUN SHELTER OF STICKS AND LEAVES WHICH WE LASHED WITH SUPPLE GREEN BRANCHES JUST LIKE ON SURVIVORMAN. 

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Lashing up a shelter like it is my JOB. Cuz it kind of is, I mean, I am supposed to keep my baby safe. And harmful UV rays are dangerous. So. 

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 Keeping cool on the rocks.


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1. I totally know how to swim, life jackets are just the accepted method for swimming mit bebe. 2. We have normal life jackets, but forgot to put them in the boat, so were stuck with flotation devices circa 1973. Whatever. I proved that they still work. 

I think we need to get back to our urban, civilised life in Japan before things get too crazy up in here. 

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Small Style, Park Style

We are up in Northern Ontario at my parents' summer cottage where the Internet is slower than molasses in January that has been frozen solid and therefore does not move at all. (But really, I'll keep my cavils to a minimum because until about five years ago we didn't even have flush toilets, or telephones up here so any Internet at all is pretty rad.) Anyway, in a rare example of awesomeness on my part, I thought ahead! And took small style pictures! And uploaded them in advance! 

Younger Sister and I took Stella and the Geriatric Fat White Rocket dog to the park for some early-morning swings. Since, you know, we were up anyway. But it turns out that 7:30 AM is THE PERFECT time to go to the park, because it is beautiful, and not hot, and empty. 

IMG_6336 Paaaarrrk! Woop! Woop!

Early morning sun.

IMG_6342To say that Stella enjoys the swings is somewhat of an understatment.

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Stroller NO! Walking NO! Carrying NO! If you don't mind, I'll just scoot the rest of the way home. Mmmkay?


Stella Wore:

Shirt & Bloomers: Baby Gap

Shoes: See Kai Run

Headband (of Love): AdornMeGirl


As always, linking up with Mama Loves Papa for some Small Style action. 


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What Was I Thinking

This is what we are doing today:

  • Leaving the house at 6 AM.
  • Getting in the car and driving 500 miles with a screamy baby
  • Attempting to cross the border with the following complications:
    • One baby sans father which can sometimes be complicated (see international kidnapping)
    • One car that does not belong to me and sports US plates while I hold a Canadian passport and Japanese drivers licence 
    • One sister who forgot her passport in Canada
    • A car full o' beer (because my parental units believe that buying Canadian beer in the states and then bringing it across the border is totally the way to go, but they maxed out their quota, so we are now their official alcohol sherpas.)


I predict a date with a customs officer in my future.

Wish us luck! Or punch me in the teeth! It might be less terrible!

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Small Style, Suburbs Style

Stella and I are back in North America, reveling the suburban pleasures of front lawns, barbecues, corn on the cob and we couldn't be happier. (Well, technically we could be happier, were it not for Awakegate 2011 which makes me pretty unhappy around the four AM mark and leads me to seriously contemplate the insightfulness and veracity of a certain not-for-children-chindren's-book.)

Anyway, due to the aforementioned Awakegate scandal, energy levels are pretty low and we have not invested significant thought or time into our outfits, and in fact this episode is a bit of a repeat, but we did sit on the front lawn shucking corn and watching the neighbourhood go by, and so I thought, "Great! Small Style." So, here we are, linking up with Morgan at Mama Loves Papa and sharing our moment of suburban bliss. 


Sleep? HA! Lady, you've got another thing coming. And that thing is being awake. 

IMG_6270Despite my serious lack of zzzzz time, I still think you're pretty cute!



Pointing! It's a new thing! 



Stella Wore:

Tee - Bobo Choses

Leggings - Old Navy

Sandals - See Kai Run

Bow - Adorn Me Girl (which I got with a sweet Mama Loves Papa discount. Thanks guys!)


Now, I'm going to look at other cutie pies at Small Style and you should too!


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Master of Disaster

INTERNET! I have some amazing  news which I am sososososososo excited to share with you. My little sister, who has suffered through many years of hectoring, older-sister-assvice, and relentless teasing has just passed her thesis defence. Yeah! Trumpets! WOOT WOOT WOOT! Hooray! 

I had this amazingly brilliant idea to start this post with a series of little vignettes illustrating just how quirky and hilarious and independent she is, but somehow it turned into a series of accounts of her buffoonery. And I got to thinking that poking fun of my sister in front of the whole entire internet is, perhaps, not the best way to pay tribute to her amazing accomplishment. (But trust me, the stories I have are HILARIOUS, so, you know, email me.)

So, instead, I'll just say again SHE PASSED HER THESIS DEFENCE and is now a philosophy master! She knows way more philosophy than you do! She knows all the philosophies! Ha! (Except for you, Mishka. Hi! You know the most!) And I am so incredibly proud of her and how hard she has worked, and for succeeding where many fail, and doing it with style and on the world's smallest budget, I might add. So, well done sister.  

I like to think that Stellabella played a small part in getting that thesis done. Because, as my sister proved, babysitting and thesis writing are not mutually exclusive activities.  

Anyway, she did it. And I'm proud of her. And yea! 

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