The Tour of France

Apparently there's this big bike race every year through France. Some sort of tour. Whatever, all I know is it's several kilometres long. Dozens even. This year it dipped down through Barcelona for the second time ever, and part of that dip took it about a block away from our flat:

Since I work fairly close to home I was able to step out of the office for a couple of minutes to participate in the excitement. Marie and Oliver saved me a spot. Oliver certainly caught the race fever, as you can see:

The rain was nice enough to let up as they entered the town so we didn't get a drop on us. I was busy operating both the video camera and the still camera at the same time, but I still managed to catch a shot of Lance in the peloton (I think):

Kinda cool to have it happen so close to us. Generally speaking, the best way to have the Tour pass through the town where you're living is to be living in France, so we dodged that bullet.

Worst. Father. Ever.

Last week we were making a curry. Well, Marie was doing most of the making while I tended to Oliver and put him down for his nap. While I was helping cut up some ginger he woke up a little early, so I picked him up, rocked him back down to sleep, and felt pretty good about the whole fatherhood thing.

When he woke up again from his nap he was exceptionally fussy. Normally after a long Sunday afternoon nap he wakes up feeling pretty good about things and life in general--sorta takes after his old man that way. I saw a large red rash on his arm, and right in the very centre of that rash...a single chili seed. Under the seed itself was a welt the exact size and shape of the seed. When I was cutting the ginger I somehow picked up a seed from the adjacent chilis and transferred it to his arm. His little baby skin was so sensitive that it sat there and burned him for nearly an hour. Almost nearly as bad as the fact that I inadvertantly tortured my son for an hour? The fact that he may never like chilis. Yessir, that there is some gooooood parenting. Worst. Father. Ever.

Epilogue: I washed the rash and wiped it down with some milk to neutralise the acid and the rash was gone within the hour. To prove he was none the worse for wear, check out the below video. Still no word on his feelings about chilis.

Birthday Celebrations

Is it too late to post this? Surely not in my world-- I just finished writing Dad's Father's Day card.

This year for some reason we celebrated my birthday more than I ever have, including when my birthdays were in single digits. Except maybe the time we had strawberry cake, with strawberry frosting, strawberry ice cream, and strawberry soda. I remember being very sick.

This year we started off the celebrations with a little flavour tripping party. We had a couple friends over for dinner and after some yummy fajitas we served up slices of lemon, lime and grapefruit, vinegar, sour cherries, goat cheese, and tabasco sauce. Everyone popped a little tablet of miracle fruit in their mouths, let it dissolve, and then tucked in. The miracle fruit (pictured above) has the fantastic property of changing your tastebud receptors so that anything sour tastes sweet after you've rubbed it all over your tongue. Lemon and lime tasted like they were dipped in sugar. The grapefruit was the sweetest one I've ever tasted, as were the cherries. The goat cheese was like rich cheesecake and the tobasco was like really sweet honey bbq sauce.

A few days later on my actual birthday O had an early appt with a dermatologist, starting the day nice and early. As I was showering, Andrew laid out a few presents and cards from friends and family on the bed (thank you again everyone). We rushed out the door to the autistic pediatric dermatologist who, as far as we could tell, either didn't like babies or had never been around them. Unfortunate profession for him to be in. (Oliver got a little of his own back a few weeks later when he peed all over the office during his return appointment).

After the appt I headed over to a few stores to get a diaper changing pad kit I had been wanting. The first store only had it in pink and I kept thinking to myself, "Well, I'm a girl. Pink should work." Didn't occur to me that I have a boy and pink might not be the most appropriate choice. Thankfully I decided to head to another store and found it in red and black.

O and I got home in time for a diaper change before heading out to meet friends

for lunch. My friend Michelle caught me on the way out and gave me a beautiful little bouquet that went perfectly with some greenery that was still hanging on from a bouquet Andrew had put together a week before. Donna and Marta (pictured at right) met me and O at a mall for some lunch and retail therapy. I rarely get lunch and so it was fun to actually eat something more than cheese and crackers during the day and chitchat with friends while doing it. Best part-- there's a Ben & Jerry's stand at that mall. Gelato's great and all but sometimes I just need some B&J.

We shopped for a bit before I got my ice cream and headed home. I thought perhaps the day was done but then we met up with Michelle and Pere for a delicious dinner. I still keep trying to find a time Andrew and I can go back to that restaurant. I don't know why I felt the need to blog about all this. I think it's because I felt so loved and surrounded by good friends and family and a baby who was willing to put up with being out of the house from about 8.30am to midnight. I had been kind of feeling a bit small in the world a few days before this and it made me realize that I have a very special little corner of this world filled with amazing people and I am so happy to have it. If my friendship does half as much for my friends and family as theirs does for me, then it's a little corner that I'm helping to be a happy place.