What I could do with that many arms....

A typical day in my household. Here’s a rundown of the routine – I’m sure many will relate:

-Wake at 6:00 (hit snooze once, usually only once, okay, maybe twice)
-Catch bus at 6:30 (you can imagine how good I look with 10 minutes to get dressed)
-6:30 – 7:00 read my book, drink coffee on bus,
-7:00-7:45 Jo wakes, feeds and brings the girls to day care (two different stops)
-7:00-3:00 work
-Catch bus at 3:00 (sometimes catch some zzzz’s at this point)
-3:30 grab Edie and the running stroller that Jo has left for me at her day care PRAY that I remembered to pack sports bra (the girls aren’t big, but they do get in the way)
-3:40-Run home (about a 3 K run) PRAY that Edie remains content for the run
-Unload stroller, backpacks etc. PRAY that I remembered to bring house key (if forgotten, PRAY that Jo answers his phone to come and save me)
-4:00 Grab van keys that Jo has left behind (I don’t imagine that I need to keep saying PRAY at this point. Grab snacks.
-4:15 Scoot Edie into her car seat, ignoring her cries that she can do up the buckle herself
-4:30 Pick up Grace at her day care, lamenting the amount of art work she is capable of producing in one day (I mean, c’mon, are we expected to keep every last piece?)
-4:35 Scoot the girls (not my boobs, my actual children) back into the van and if it’s Monday or Tuesday or Friday, drive madly to karate, one hand on steering wheel, one hand doling out snacks, and one hand massaging my temples (whoops, sorry. That’s what I would do if I had a third hand). Once at karate, try and restrain Edie from entering the Dojo.
-5:45 Rush home, create a homemade meal that includes the 4 food groups that will inevitably be complained about but eaten due to threats of no dessert unless ½ consumed
-6:45 If hot outside, go for a swim. If cold outside, ignore cries of wanting to go for a swim and go for a walk instead, where girls pretend to step on my head by stomping on my shadow (ahhh, the love)
-7:30 get everyone in their pyjamas, select book/puzzle/show (sometimes all three) Prepare good night snack
-8:00 night night Edie (she’s pretty good – just about 2 minutes of hugs, blanket placement and soother inventory)
-8:30-9:00 night night Grace (this is usually a good ½ hour procedure – much more complex and changes weekly – another post entirely)
-9:30 tidy up and make lunches for next day
-10:00 make love to the couch and television
-10:30 hit the sack.
* ooops, acknowledge husband at some point.

AND REPEAT

How about you?

See that? That's my last nerve ending. Grace and Edie are treating it like a freakin' jungle gym right now. Thank God for cheap cabernet.

Evil, evil little weed
For the past three years I have run three very unsuccessful experiments. About ten years ago, I was diagnosed with severe ragweed allergies. Allergies so intense that it even excited my ancient allergist who has seen it all. He ordered me to take these needles, weekly, for the months of July and August. And combat it, it did. I suffered no more.
Now, I am a person who thinks of allergies as a weakness, something people make up. I mean really, how bad can it be? Three years ago I scoffed at the needle treatments, asking myself, was the suffering really all that bad? And yes, it was. Yet, like childbirth, I put myself through it again last year, forgetting the sheer agony of allergies. Again, this year, I never called my allergist back when he sent me my reminder, basically calling me an idiot for suffering through another year. Early August of this year, I was high and mighty with nary a sneeze or sniffle, and then Sunday, they hit. With a vengeance only Mother Nature could summon, I swear, every little ragweed pollen has found its way to my house, and follows me to work everyday, and home again. My sneezes scare away the racoons, by bleary red eyes scare small children, and my post nasal drip disgusts all those around me. I apologize. Next year, I will have track marks up and down my arms, I will inject as much medication as I possibly can, just so I don't have to suffer through this hell again.
(Ten bucks says I don't get around to doing it again next year!)

The good and the bad.....
When I was on holidays for three glorious weeks, the girls and I had lots of little adventures. One particular adventure made me feel like a glowing, wonderful teacher of a mommy, and the other left me feeling angry at the world and beat up. Let’s start things off with the happy story…..

It was a beautiful sunny day, and we were all out of fruit. “Girls”, I sang, “let’s go to the Market today and buy some fresh fruit!” Grace enthusiastically agreed and Edie chirped something that sounded like she was in agreement. In matching starched sundresses (well, maybe I’m exaggerating here) we were out the door. We decided to take the bus, after all, what a great opportunity to teach the girls about the environment! And we just happened to have a Suzy Sunshine of a bus-driver who welcomed the girls on her bus. Yippee! And so we took our seats and bounced along, with both girls hair smelling like sunshine (I’m having so much fun with this). The bus stopped and picked up a very scruffy middle-aged gentleman. He smiled and said hello and proceeded to talk to me about how he was going to go for coffee with some of his friends from the shelter. He was a little bit off, but, what a wonderful opportunity to teach the girls about the disadvantaged. We talked and talked and when he got off the bus the girls had lots of questions (Why was he dirty? Why did he talk so loudly? What’s a shelter?) I patiently answered all questions asked and was feeling purely Polyanna at this point. When we got off the bus, we were greeted by, well, a crazy guy, who kept yelling that any mother who gives her children liquid would end up in jail. Perfect! An opportunity to teach the children about the mentally ill. After assuring Grace I wouldn’t go to jail for giving her and her sister their sippy cups, we were off to the Market. I pulled out my canvas enviro-totes (say no to plastic!) and let the girls pick out what they wanted. Again, super-Mom strikes again by providing her charges with fresh fruit instead of gummy fruits (tsk tsk, who does that?) It was time to go and catch our bus home, and on the way we bumped into a woman in a wheel chair. She engaged us in conversation and remarked how cute the girls were, and asked if they would like to play with the buttons on her wheel chair. Ummm, hello, what kid wouldn’t want to do that? Hell, I wanted to play to! Well, after putting this woman in reverse and spinning her around umpteen times, it was time for us to board the bus, and you guessed it, talk about people in wheel chairs and different kinds of disabilities. Then, I swear to you, a blind man came on the bus, with his seeing-eye dog. And where do you suppose they were going? To the track field, near our house. Turns out he trains there, he’s a runner. He let the girls pet his dog, talked about how he runs, and how he “sees”. He told us it was time for his dog to “work” as he had to get off the bus. The girls very respectively stopped petting his dog and bid him an adieu.
When we finally arrived home, I made the girls some lunch with the fresh, whole grain bread (still warm!) and the new fruits and veggies.
I then settled Edie down for her nap while Grace mastered a puzzle geared towards 8 year olds (such a clever girl, she’s only five!) and I busied myself with hanging laundry on the clothesline (using the drier would have been a terrible waste of electricity!)

Ready for the next adventure?

It was just Edie and I on this one, and it didn’t go so well. It was a stinking hot day and I decided to take Edie on the bus to go downtown to do a little shopping. Because it was such a hot day, I brought the stroller, in case she got tired. Now, it wasn’t the little umbrella stroller, it was one of those standard fold-up strollers, I see people on the bus with them all the time. Getting downtown was fine, but once we were down there things quickly turned for the worse. At Old Navy, Edie wouldn’t let me shop (the nerve!) and pitched a shit-fit when I tried to put her back in the stroller. Deciding I should just cut my losses and leave, we hopped (well, she rolled) on the bus to go home. It was hot. The bus was getting busy. A man of considerable girth snarled at me “how the hell am I supposed to get past your stroller” as he squeezed by. Edie grabbed my one shopping bag filled with underwear and proceeded to show the whole front of the bus what I bought. The bus was now standing room only. Sitting to my left was a mentally challenged individual. A blind man, with a cane, came on the bus. To my utter amazement, no one offered him a seat. Because I was talking up room with my stroller, I offered to fold it up so he could squeeze in beside me. He said it was okay, not to bother, but I really felt he should have a seat. I struggled with folding the stroller while trying to contain Edie, who I was bribing with fruit gummies (yup, I do give my kids candy!) to stay quiet. Again, no one offered to help. No one except the gentleman to the left, who obviously had some mental deficiencies, but still had enough social graces to offer me some help. We figured things out and the blind man was able to sit. How about that, the two disabled people and lady with a baby worked it out! The bus was getting more and more crowded, so I decided to make an early exit and just walk the rest of the way home. So, up I got, with my little two year old by the hand, a shopping bag and an awkwardly folded stroller in the other. Now, I was struggling. Edie was crying. The bus was not filled with one armed, one eyed, one legged peopled. It was filled with able bodied individuals who just didn’t give a rats ass to help out. I finally asked a woman my age to take the stroller and help me off the bus. She obliged, but not overly enthusiastically. It was a bit of a hike home, I had stupid shoes on that hurt, I forgot to put sunscreen on Edie so she fried a little bit. When we finally got home, I fed her some Kraft Dinner and put her down for her nap and I sobbed quietly to myself for the lack of humanity in the world. Okay, just kidding about that last part. I actually watched a re-run of Canada’s Next Top Model.

Two very, very, different days.

I stroked Tommy Lee…………….

Well, I stroked his fore-arm, that counts for something, right?

So, Tuesday night my sister came to babysit the girls, forewarned that it might be a late one. I put on my tightest black jeans, by highest heeled black shoes, put on one of my old rock shirts and prepared myself to be dazzled by the original Motley Crue drummer who was making an appearance at Tila Tequila, a club in the Market.

I went with two girlfriends, their significant others, and Jo. When Tommy finally came on stage, I am normally well into my second hour of sleep. The men-folk lasted all of fifteen minutes before they took off for more manly activities at the pub across the street. I guess the drool dripping off our chins made them realize they wouldn’t be getting much attention from us. So, we were left to our own to our own devices. We pushed our way up to the very front and started to dance. He’s a really little guy – I think I could actually look down on him and wrap my arms around him twice. But, he rocks those tats and a bad-boy image like nobody’s business.

Tommy spotted us. He grabbed his Jagermeister and offered it up to the crowd – my friends chugged from his bottle, but I declined. While I do consider myself to be a little bit rock’n’roll, I’m also a little bit paranoid of other people’s germs (c’mon, do you think that bottle was the only thing Tommy ‘s mouth touched that night?) Instead, I stroked his arm. Weird, I know. My bubble popped though when Tommy’s manager started picking girls out of the crowd to be brought back to his “holding tank of hot chicks”.

I actually really liked the music – it was some hard house, techno stuff that I wouldn’t normally listen to, but I am thinking it would great to run to. I don’t know it Tommy did any actual d.j.’ing, we were sort of wondering if he was just pressing buttons and moving shit around to look important. Whatevs. We danced up a storm, had a great time. We picked up our husbands at the pub and headed home. At 2:30 in the morning. Do you know how much it hurt me to set my alarm for 6:00 a.m.?

*As an aside, one thing that shocked me about that night was the amount of plastic surgery happening in our town. Good Lord, there were fake boobies and trout lips everywhere! Who knew?

This newsbreak brought to you by Corona...


The past 48 hours have included:

-a pretty miserable weekend which had me beside myself with an earache that got so bad it made my jaw cease up (turns out i had a brutal case of swimmers ear....sexy!) why did it make me a little proud when the good doctor at the walk-in clinic told me it was one of the worst cases she has ever seen? at least your good at something karen!

-deciding to give my pregnant girlfriend a few minutes peace, i took my two girls and her two girls for a walk in the forest. turns out i stepped on a wasp nest. with flip flops on. got bit. turns out a couple of them made themselves at home in edie's shorts. she got bit several times. after i stripped edie of her clothes and ran to the friends house, the little girl i was watching kindly picked up the clothes i had stripped edie of. turns out a couple of the wasps were still in the shorts and they bit her, in the armpit and up her nose. yowza. can you say mother of the year?

-consumed some dairy queen, even though my nutritionist told me on a scale of 0 to 100 i am at 100 for a dairy sensitivity. makes sense that i would go to a restaurant where dairy is the first word, right? my stomach sounds like beethoven's fifth right now.

all that aside, i'm pretty stoked that L.A. Ink is premiering tonight. it is tonight, right? oh, i'll be so freaking sad if it's not tonight.

I feel like I should be baking cookies or something....

Okay, end of week two with the kids. I'm not sure how I am doing. Humour me:
-Grace does not want to go to her day care because she would rather be at home with me - 1 point

-Grace tries to drown friend in pool because friend is not playing the game right - lose 2 points

-Jonas remarks at bedtime last night that Edie kinda smells musty, I then realize that she hasn't been bathed in a awhile - lose 1 point

-Bathe Edie while having morning coffee this morning - 2 points

-Get girls excited about my vinyl collection - 1 point

-Grace most interested in an album titled "Music to Strip to" - lose 5 points

-0 batches of cookies made - lose 1 point

-Made popsicles with real fruit juice - 2 points

-Not able to get Edie to keep clothes on - lose 1 point

-Ability to not give a shit about the above - 3 points

-Haven't filled Atavan prescription...yet - 10 points


I think I'm ahead!!!! We'll see what the final week brings.....

I know thousands read this blog (yeah, right!), but this one really is just for family and friends....(Grace is the littlest girl, we're so darn proud!)