So it's fortunate for our relationship, E-town, that yesterday was Saturday, the day in which the Farmer's Market takes over several downtown blocks and fills them with treats, trinkets and baubles. It was a happy morning. Primping with the voices of Max & Ruby squeaking away in the background (sometimes I miss the days of putting it down to Luda with my roommates while dolling ourselves up to face the world -- the sounds of Treehouse just don't have the same beat), I looked forward to girls' day with Maya.
I splashed us out with a hint of pink, strapped Maya into her chariot and pushed her up to the action downtown. We started our market experience at Credo, where we like to hang because, just like at Cheers, everyone knows our names -- and the mochas are pretty good too. Right away, we joined one of my charming friends, who regaled me with stories of the nightlife action I'd missed over the week (I don't get out much past 8 pm anymore); I salivated over every glamorous detail (being tall, dark and handsome, he makes them sound even better), appreciating the taste of grownup company.
Maya's attention span fading and a good part of her breakfast in her hair, we meandered into the bustling crowd. Unfortunately, at 3 degrees, there is only so much fun to be had in the great outdoors, so after grabbing our staples, we hoofed it home as quickly as my UGGs could carry us (that's right -- UGGs -- in June). And then the darkness fell.
My darling hubby had taken our ghetto superstar truck to work and it being our only set of wheels, we were stuck at home for the rest of the day. It being frigidly cold outside, another venture on foot was out of the question (I've never really felt transit worth the discomfort). Determined to prolong the positive tone of the day, I made a sort of peace with being stuck in the 700 square feet we call home for what I knew would seem like eternity. And then, the heavens opened, and the phone rang! Nimrod (never has there been a more fitting name for a spouse) had somehow cleared two whole hours for family time between surgeries and thought the best use of it would be to take his girls to lunch at Sugarbowl, another sparkle in the dim landscape of Edmonton.
I adore Sugarbowl. They make the fluffiest high-maintenance omelets (smoked salmon, basil and goat cheese was yesterday's feature) and pair them with expertly seasoned potatoes and whatever other finicky requests I tend to make. And take a look at their mochas...perfect.
For a good 90 minutes (a decent amount of time to engage in something worthwhile), I was able to escape an afternoon of desperately trying to entertain Maya in the cave. And then the bill came. Time to face the harsh reality that playtime was over for me. At least I got to have a fantastic coffee before my doom to rest on my laurels all evening was sealed. There is literally no where to go in our postage-stamp apartment; that also means there are very few places Maya cannot get into trouble because all of our belongings are on top of us. So, how do we pass the hours? After exhausting my toddler-appropriate singing and dancing skills, making smelly felt drawings (which inevitable result in rainbow-coloured fingers, faces and furniture), having a bath and eating, we plant our tushes on the big comfy couch and snuggle in with whatever salacious companionship E! provides for us.
As I am often told, I'm like an Energizer Bunny (the cuddly kind that also kicks your ass), so sitting for more than an hour at a time while Maya sleeps in my arms (because princesses insist on being held) is much greater torture than even the toughest class in the hottest room will ever be. So in an effort to alleviate my increasing insanity, I am open to suggestions on exciting ways to while away the evenings with little ones who refuse to go to bed before their parents. And Edmonton, if we are going to remain friends (not good ones, but friends nonetheless), I'd like my summer sun back please.
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