Songs of Summer

The first real song of summer that stands out for me is “Take a Walk on the Wild Side” by Lou Reed. I remember this song was playing the night I kissed my boyfriend – it was my first “real” kiss. I can even picture what I was wearing that night – an oversized James Dean t-shirt and black pedal pushers. My hair was fashioned in that weird lopsided cut that all girls had that summer. For years after that night, every time I heard that song I would get butterflies in my stomach, even though it had been long time since the bloom fell off the romance.

Another song that stands out for me is a silly one. It was the month of May and, having just been sent to rehab, all my punk music had been confiscated, and I was only allowed to listen to top 40 music. That was the summer of “Pop Goes the World” by Men Without Hats. To this day whenever I hear that song, a flood of emotions come over me.

Skip to university and Frosh Week. At Bishop’s that year, my summer song was 1979 by the Smashing Pumpkins – no reason why, but whenever I hear that song, I think about that first foray into living on my own, making the best friends I’d ever had, and general good times.

This summer, my summer song is by M.I.A. Gunshots aside, it makes me sooooo happy when I listen to it. Whenever it comes on, I roll down the windows, crank the volume, and, for a few minutes, forget that I’m in a mini-van .

Enjoy.

object width="425" height="344">

*Tell me your most memorable summer songs, I'm always looking for good songs!

Not for the faint of heart……

The tragedy this morning that fell upon Grace’s SK group is almost unspeakable. Perhaps you heard the collective cries of 40 five and six year olds, mourning a loss so horrible and so unfair. We parents who happened to be there when the news was announced were forced to take the role of grief counselors, hugging, consoling, and lamenting the loss along with the children. My Gracie had to compete with other children for a word of assurance and a stroke of the hair from me. I felt like there was not enough of me to go around to comfort these traumatized children, stoked by the inhumanity that had fallen upon them.
It may not be in the news tomorrow, even the media doesn’t like to report these kinds of events, events that bring no joy to anyone. And so, I turn from grief counselor to reporter here, to tell of the horrible fate that met these children this Wednesday morning. Sit down, prepare yourself – I cannot be there to physically console you once you read the news I am about to report. Ready?

The field trip to Saunders Farm was cancelled due to rain.

There, I said it, I put it out there. Are you feeling the pain these Kinders were/are feeling today? Lord have mercy you’d think that Hannah Montana herself had been shot the way these kids carried on.

I can sympathize with them though. The one field trip they have been looking forward to all year was cancelled due to rain. And the kicker? While the skies look threatening, I have not seen one drop fall from the sky yet.

*note to Gracie’s school – cancel the drama classes, these kids do not need any further training whatsoever.

Ironing: def. v. The act of taking iron pills.

Really, this is pretty much the definition of ironing in Meanie’s house. Yes, I’m the one who runs to the dryer to get clothes out ASAP to avoid wrinklage. Yes, those are my kids who look a little ruffled when they get to school. Yes, those clothes in my closet have been only worn once because I won’t take the time to iron them.
I. Don’t. Iron. Jo does iron….sometimes…..usually about two minutes before we have to be somewhere very important. And it involves a lot of cursing, burning and general ugliness.
I now wonder about my own mother, who used to crank EastEnders and iron each individual’s underwear while she worked away. My own girls are most likely in awe of the neat little folded packages their underwear turn into after spending the night there (is that a lavender scent we smell Momma?)
I just can’t get into it. What I can get into is this
Are you kidding me? Did you know about this? Tell me all about it! I am your grasshopper, eager to learn of the mystical properties of this magical serum. I will spray away, I will exchange 10 bad environmental habits I have to partake in this wrinkle-releasing orgy.
How did I not know about this?

What I did with diaper wipes this weekend:

-cleaned chocolate off my cashmere sweater

-cleaned bathroom counters quickly before onslaught of father’s day visitors arrived

-cleaned dust off of entertainment unit

-polished my back high heel shoes

-polished my new social distortion belt buckle (it’s so purty)

-wiped freezie stains off my children’s faces

-wiped evidence of chocolate binge off of my face

-wiped marker stains off of walls

-wiped aftermath of artistic frenzy off of the dining room table (water colours + three year old + six year and a brief introduction to the works of Jackson Pollock = one helluva mess)

-wiped pollen off of deck furniture

-squished bugs

-cleaned dust off dashboard of mini-van

-wiped down leather chairs (that never get used but always get dirty?)

I’m sure there is more, but I’m impressed with the list thus far. I’m also a little freaked that I wiped my children’s bums with something so…..effective.

Well, that’s an hour of my life I won’t get back….


I was t-i-r-e-d last night (note to Edie: you’re three now, you should be sleeping through the night by now). Jo was out for the evening. After soccer practice, I had the girls scrubbed, snacked, hugged and coerced into bed and the house was silent at 8:30. I made lunches, folded laundry, fixed a broken toy and by 9:30 I rewarded myself with a Lindt dark chocolate bar and a little couch time with a promise to myself that I would be in bed by 10:00. I then I surfed the kajillion channels that we have. Biiiiiggg mistake. Did you know that there is a show called Living Lohan that chronicles the lives of famewhore Dina Lohan and her daughter Ali “Save Me” Lohan? Well, you do now. And I spent ½ an hour trying to decipher what it was that I was watching – hell, conversations in my head about what to make for dinner are more interesting than this crap! But, of course, in a chocolate coma, I submitted to the power of Lohan. And, before I could flip the TV off at 9:30, It’s Complicated rolled on right after the Lohans and I was spun into Denise Richard’s orange-y spray tanned web. Honeslty, I watched Denise go shopping for a new shirt, get a spray tan, pick up dog shit and make her father get a sea salt scrub.

See, there are two kinds of people in this world, people who do stuff like Doctor’s Without Borders, and people like me, who get drunk off chocolate, become immobilized and fall victim to less than mediocrity.

I'm keeping him....

Nine years ago, I married a guy named Jo. Years before that wedding day, Jo attempted to court me, and I turned him down. I turned him down out of fear, because I knew in my heart of hearts that I was going to marry this Jo guy, and I was still too young be tied down to that kind of commitment. So I half-heartedly dated a few guys, but my heart belonged somewhere else. Still, I couldn’t make that commitment, scared of my own feelings, scared of committing to something that might actually be, gasp, good for me. Understandably, Jo became impatient, and, a dramatic argument left me standing alone. He’d had enough and couldn’t play my games. Never have I felt so alone. A loneliness beyond anything I’d known before – it was as if I knew that was the loneliness I’d feel for eternity if I didn’t have Jo in my life. And so, I fought to get him back. Swatting back the girls who got wind of his singledom, and I earned back his trust in me.
We are so different Jo and I – I cling to the punk rock glory days, and, Jo clings to his NFL on Sundays. But, we click, and we respect each others differences. We have mutual friends, and we have our “mine only” friends. I cook, he cleans. We can correct each other without getting defensive. We have fun, even when the chips are down. We know the value of a good babysitter.
Sometimes I’m reminded by how good I have it, especially on our ninth anniversary. We booked a sitter for Wednesday night, went our local haunt, toasted each other with champagne. He then presented me with my gift. A gift like no other gift I received.

My blog is my little thing. Or so I thought. What it is actually, is a diary, a diary of the girls, a diary of my personality, a diary of motherhood, a diary of our family. I always wondered how it would be saved, should I print it off, archive it, download it, or just get rid of it.

Jo had a better idea:

front cover


back cover


middle pages



He had the whole thing, from beginning to end formatted and bound. 100 hours of work. Work that took place on the couch, into the wee hours of the morning. My Jo doesn’t see by blog as a silly little thing, he sees it as our life, and something that is worth saving.

Am I lucky or what.

Well, MommaT relayed a little story about some colourful language in her house. Just thought I'd share my own slice of innocence lost with y'all today......

"Mommy, do you know what the s word is?"

errr, you tell me grace

"(giggling) it's stupid!"

"Mommy, do you know what the h word is?"

ummm, do you?

"(more giggles) it's hate!"

"Mommy, do you know what the d word is?"

you tell me sweetie

"It's dummy!"

"Mommy, do you know what the f word is?"

(loving the innocence of it all) Bring it on gracie, what is it?

"FUCK!"

indeed.

My name is Meanie

You know that show, My Name is Earl? Well, Jo called me Earl this morning. Why? Because of my compulsive list making. How compulsive? At 2:30 this morning I was crouched in my closet writing like a maniac, with a light-up Ariel pen with pink feathers attached to it. Was I writing “the next best thing?” Nope. Penning my last will and testament? Nosiree Bob. Here is a sample of what work of genius I was creating at 2:30 in the morning:

-Call back Ian re. tomorrow’s meeting
-buy new mop for Anna (cleaning lady)
-get money for Anna
-responsible for sharing snack day June 9th
-Grace’s French reader to be returned
-call researcher x regarding y
-inform boss lady of dr.’s appt
-soccer tourney Sunday…what time????
-school bbq Friday – have to bring dessert!
-renew Edie’s OHIP
-daycare cheques due
-hot lunch form – did I fill it out?
-call researcher y regarding x
-book Edie’s eye appt.
-call Mom back
-need yogurt, bread

No wonder the sleep aid industry makes a mint. I just know I’m not the only one with this affliction!