GUM!

When I became pregnant, I gave up vices. Ciggie smoking, excessive boozing and a steady diet of gummy bears and Ms. Vicky’s potato chips. Hell, I even started to work out, eat from the four food groups and feel pretty good about things (uhhh, don’t get me wrong here, now that I’m not incubating anymore, when the weekend a hits, so does a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to my lips (or Merlot, or Shiraz, I actually still, at 35, don’t really know the difference).

But I digress. I still have one disgusting habit. I chew gum. Wait, no, I don’t just chew gum. In fact, I feel a little sorry for the gum I put in my mouth for the gnashing it is about to get. I beat the crap out of my gum. And don’t think that I daintily pop one piece into my mouth, no no no no no no. I need two to three of those bad boys in my mouth at once. This sometimes gets me in embarrassing situations. Now, when you cram three sticks of gum in your yap, when you have to get rid of it, you can’t just swallow it. You need to dispose of it. And when I need to get rid of gum, I need to get rid of it NOW! It’s like a moment of revulsion comes over me and I realize how disgusting it is to be smacking on three sticks of gum at once. So today, I’m dying to get off the bus because the gum in my mouth is driving me insane. So, picture me walking down my street (which, I should add, is filled with doctors, diplomats and retired judges, don’t ask me how they let us move into this neighbourhood). I’ve got my nice heels on, a skirt, I’m even carrying a briefcase today. And I let my wad of gum fly, I mean I launch it, I want that hunk of gum as far away from me as possible. I didn’t even look around to see who might be watching. If I had looked, I might have seen all the mom’s waiting to collect their kids from the bus watching me.

Ugh. I’m gross. I’ve reached my bottom. I’m going 12 –step my gum addiction.

*I feel the need to say I normally dispose of my gum in a tissue to toss in the trash at a later date – yesterday I was tissue-less and desperate. I’m not normally a spitter. Like I said, I think I’ve hit my bottom.

I hate to wait.....
I have knots the size of a golf ball in my shoulder and I’m waiting for a referral from a doctor for a good physiotherapist/masseuse. My original doctor (who I’m dumping) is mean and wants to charge me $20 for a referral…so I am now waiting to see if a nice new doctor will accept me as a patient…I will then have to wait for an appointment with her…. I will then have to wait for an appointment with whoever she refers me to….I may look like a hunchback by the time I get treated!

My groovy haircut has turned into bad 90’s Whitesnake haircut and my hair dresser is off getting married/honeymooning….anybody have a car I can spread my body out on???

Grace’s reward for conquering her night demons is a Baby Alive doll (she poops! She pees! Yaaaayyyyy) and I’m buying one off of Kijijij, if the person ever replies to me…..

Jonas is making me a surprise present for either Mother’s Day or our wedding anniversary and I am tearing out my Whitesnake hair trying to figure out what it is…..

Edie has decided that she likes to get into her car seat herself thankyouverymuch….do you know how long it takes a just turned three year old to adjust herself just-so in her car seat? Arrrrghhhhh!

I’m no so sure that the stress management workshop my boss made me attend was all that effective after-all.

.......but can I keep them????

Good things:

Both girls have slept through the night two nights in a row now. This calls for a trip to the dollar store to buy some made in China treats to celebrate and congratulate.

I’m going to Montreal tonight. With my husband. With no kids. Whoot! On the way home, Jo said we MAY be able to stop at H&M. I only need an hour there to do all the pent up shopping I have in me right now.

It’s going up to 24 degrees Celsius today.

Grace asked if we could listen to the Clash in the car yesterday.

At dinner the other night, we were playing “I’m going to the store and I’m going to buy….” and when it was Edie’s turn, she said she was going to by me Social Distortion. Where am I going to put them all?

I was called Miss yesterday instead of the usual Ma’am.

Have a great weekend everyone.

*mommy's little monster #2 Edie

punk rock parenting!

i've been reading some pretty heavy stuff lately, so i ordered a book via amazon. it was lighter fare, it arrived on a tuesday and i finished it on a thursday. i loved it. i liked it so much i'm going to pass it on. the name of the book is called "punk rock dad" by the lead singer of Pennywise. to be perfectly honest, i had never heard a pennywise song before, and , since listening to them, don't care for them all that much. but, the writer is a punk rocker, raising three girls with his wife, and hearing his punk-rock take on parenting left me smiling.

i'm giving the book away to the person with the best punk-rock parenting moment, even if it's just by creating a little anarchy at playgroup by not bringing organic snacks :)

LAMB-EY!

So last night I was flying solo with the girls as Jonas was out for the evening. After baths and showers and logging in some couch time watching WonderPets (I freaking love this show!) it was bedtime. Off we marched. I run pretty tight ship at bedtime and in general, it works quite well. While one is on the toilet, the other has her teeth brushed and then SWITCH! After bathroom duties are done, the girls hope on the “train” (a blanket that gets dragged on the floor) and they are deposited into their bedrooms. Last night had one little glitch. My stomach dropped a little when Edie said “Where’s my Lambey?” Lambey is always in her bed, waiting to welcome her to a good night’s sleep. Only, Lambey wasn’t there. Lambey has been with Edie since the day she was born, and no sleep action has ever occurred without Lambey. A quick comb of the house turned up nothing. I called Jo on his cell phone and his sheepish “he’s in my car” made me feel a little sick. Edie was going to have to try and go cold-turkey without her little friend. I tried substitutions (no Ruby!) I tried trickery (this is Lambey’s brother!). I actually made Grace cry by taking one of her stuffies and lending it to Edie (“but that is my most specialist stuffie ever!) I tried lying down with Edie, and my hair was literally soaked by her tears. I invited Grace in to the bed, to see if big sister might be a calming force. But Edie just kept popping up, and because she was wearing a sleeveless nightie, she looked like a little-girl version of Marlon Brando wearing a wife-beater, only instead of crying Stella! into the night, she was crying Lambey! instead.
Finally, after an hour had passed, and Grace wasn’t able to fall asleep with all the drama, and Edie showing no signs of calming down, I did the unthinkable. I called Jo home. Now, I have dealt with a lot on my own, colicy babies, high temperatures, projectile vomiting…you name it. Never did this somewhat seasoned mom think I would ever call my husband home for a stuffed animal. Funny thing is, Jo realized the importance of Lambey and came home without any questions asked. The house was quiet again within five minutes of him being home.

I am in awe of the power of Lambey.


.....ummm, any similar stories would be welcome to alleviate any fears I have that Edie isn't, y'know, a little obsessive compulsive or somethin'

My First Time

I've been asked to do my first meme! Well, I've done plenty of them, but noone has ever actually asked me to do one! Alison has tasked me with a simple, but hard one.

The rules:

1) Write your own six word memoir

2) Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like

3) Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere

4) Tag at least five more blogs with links

5) Don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

Hmmmm, here we go:

"Heaven for climate, hell for company"

errr, something like that (with apologizes the Mark Twain, the actual quote is: Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.

Okay, my turn to tag. Go for it Carrie, Doc, Gleemonex, A&J and Sam

Things NOT to do:

When you go away on a business trip, to FLORIDA, do not email wife and:

1) tell her it is 85 degrees outside, and windy, but a nice windy when she is stuck back home where it is -16 with the wind chill (and it is NOT a nice windy)

2) tell her you you overslept because the hot tub knocked you out the night before at the hotel when she has not slept through the night in exactly 32 nights and only has a shower stall in her ensuite and the kids bathtub is filled with Little People toys

3) do not call her and tell that the dinner the vendor was supposed to take you to was cancelled (boo fucking hoo) so you and your buddies hopped on over the Hard Rock Cafe at Disney. Nice of you to call, but the sounds of libations being passed around and parades in the background almost only almost drowned out the kids fighting here at home.

Next time, just call, say you are having a shitty time and you miss me and the kids.

*Believe it or not, I am writing this with a smile on my face :)

Come home soon!