My Other Mother

Much has been said and written about mothers in law and most of the stories turn out to be NOT the nicest ones. The Spanish word for Mother in Law, “Suegra”, doesn’t even sound that good and most of my friends talk about their SOs’ mothers in a way where you just can see there is no closeness whatsoever. Me? I’ve been truly blessed, for my mother in law couldn’t be nicer. Sure sometimes she drives me nuts, the same way my husband drives me nuts, the same way the members of my immediate family drive me nuts, but I would be the biggest bitch in the world if I dared to say something bad about her. She is, indeed, a wonderful woman. I’m really lucky to have her in my life.

When I first came to Canada things weren’t that easy because there was a huge cultural gap and despite of her speaking English (a language we had in common because I didn’t speak French), our communication was very concise; I sometimes felt kind of threatened by her self-confidence and I even thought maybe she thought I wasn’t good at anything. But things changed once I learned how to speaking French and I started getting involved in Canada’s society. She’s always been proud of my progress, the new language I acquired, my successful losing weight (she pays for my diet supplements!), my going back to school, my little exploits in whatever there is that I want to do.

Not long ago, when I finally got my Quebec drivers license, I went to “visit” her alone. She was genuinely happy to see me there and since that day we’ve become better friends than we used to be. Gardening, BBQ, sun-tanning (sun-burning for me) on her patio deck, all without Patrice. We don’t need the buffer-boy anymore, we get along and have fun by ourselves and I’m thrilled. She’s my other mother and I love her to pieces. Not to mention her endless generosity. She’s not a “Suegra”, she is my belle-mère, a beautiful mother.

And nope… I’m not looking for her indulgence. She doesn’t even know I wrote this. I’ll just make sure I’ll let her know she’s appreciated.

Terminate Orkut

I haven’t been to Orkut in ages, but today I decided to go and take a look. A few changes here and there (the cookie, for example, good). There’s an option to terminate your account, clever. I’m not going to close it, but it’s good to know that if one day I don’t want to Orkut anymore, I can go and remove myself from it. Gmail has the same thing. Who said there aren’t enough reasons to love Google?

A New Week

Just FYI, nothing exploded here yesterday. I just told Patrice I was upset and we didn’t get too deep about it. Fab told me the party was good, but that the heat was unbearable, so I guess that’s a reason to believe that NOT going there wasn’t a tragedy. The rest of the day was spent finishing reading “Sushi for Beginners” (I really liked that book!) and starting “Jemima J” that looks promising, although I don’t understand why they compare it to “She’s Come Undone“, since they are two totally different kinds of writing. I think they’re just generalizing on the fat issue, oh well… I’m liking it so far, I SO can relate.

When I woke up this morning I saw that Patrice was at home, then I asked “Are you sick?” and he said “No, I’m on vacation”… Yikes! Nice way to surprise me :-) I have no idea if he has plans in that little head of his, but since our Wedding Anniversary is coming, maybe he does. I’m not going to ask, I’m just happy he’s here with me, for two long weeks!

No Colombian Party

Someone decided to ruin my Independence Day Party. I’m still trying to decide whom should I be angry with: 1) My mother in law who calls Patrice to help her organize one of her messy bedrooms today, 2) Patrice who couldn’t say NO and explain we were doing something I was going to enjoy because it’s about my country, or 3) Myself who couldn’t stand up and say “Call your mom and tell her you can help her later.” Fab called, looking for me, thinking I was already there. The “I’ll drive you and you can be there with your friends” option is not enough for me right now. I have the feeling I’ll be about to explode in anger when Patrice comes back home. Should I run away before the tragic arrival?