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.

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*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!

But I don't wanna!

This morning I woke with one of those feelings that I just could not shake. A feeling of dread, but I could not put my finger on why I was feeling this way. A weird feelig in my stomach that prevented me from enjoying anything that passed my lips. So I worked. Dealing with government-y stuff. Meetings, paper work, paper work and more paper work. Then my admin assistant passed by my office with my pay stub in my hand. I study this form every two weeks, try to come to terms with the amount that is deducted (and no, $30 bilingual bonus money does not make up for my losses!). I then tucked the little stub away and continued with my piles of work. Then, the good fairy of administration came by again, with a bigger envelope for me to open. My pension and benefits plan. When I opened it I knew immediately where my feeling of dread came from this morning. My brain must have had some psychic connection to the information help in this package, and my brain knew to shelter me from this information for as long as possible. This little package, so tidy and correct, informed me that I can retire in 2029. I think in my own little world, I thought maybe I had a few more years at this gig before Jo and I could run off into the sunset together, a little more wrinkl-y, a little rounder, but at least still able to run. But now I am a little worried that we will instead we will be as wrinkled as sharpei puppies, slowly, cautiously, walking at a snail's pace to our beds, just as the sun is setting.

Sigh.

IF EDIE CRIES IN THE FOREST, DOES ANYONE HEAR HER?

I love my Edie something fierce but the little one is on a crying jag right now that is about to send me around the bend. Edie has two speeds – very very happy (we are talking bouncing instead of walking) and very very upset. The way her face crumbles when she is about to cry is like a watching a face melt during a bad acid trip….not that I….well, whatevs. Even early this morning I heard my name being blubbered from her room, and there she was, fast asleep, but her adorable little mouth looking like an upside down U. And nothing can turn her mood. No amount of tickling, joking, making lamb-ey talk (usually a shoe-in for some giggles). Nope, this little cherub decides when she is done. And when she is done, she announces it. Literally. “All done crying!” she’ll state triumphantly and she starts hopping around the house again as happy as can be, oblivious to my raw nerves.

SKIPPING
I bought a skipping rope for Grace at the dollar store. Best investment ever. She shames me with her level of physical fitness. I can almost hear her chanting “float like a butterfly sting like a bee” as she skips out the door down the driveway, around the neighbors driveways and back again. When her shirt lifts a little I see her tiny six pack flexing away, and she is developing shoulders like a football player. And she just started last week.

AWESOME-NESS
I got a phone yesterday morning at 5:30 from a co-worker telling me not to come into work as there had been a flood and the building was closed. Are you kidding me? An extra day tacked on to the long weekend? I should have bought a lottery ticket.

MORE AWSOME-NESS
Two sets of grandparents. Two kids. Two sets of grandparents willing to take said kids for the weekend. Free condo at Tremblant. Two couples who are great friends who can also get away for the weekend. Is karma finally rewarding me for all the good I bring into this world?

**If anyone has been Tremblant, pls send suggestions for restaurants, activities, etc.

Looks aren't everything....

Have you noticed how pretty my blog is lately? Inspiring, isn’t it. When I blog, I literally compose my witticisms in Word, and ctrl-C and ctrl-V into Blogger. Occasionally I’ll get all fancy and download a picture, scribble on it, probably more for my shits and giggles than for anyone else (though if you do laugh, that makes me really happy). And SOMETIMES I get really excited and share/impose my musical taste on people and post a YouTube video. Anyhooo, I thought I’d try and do something fancy with The Blog. Actually, all I really wanted to do was install one of them there fancy blogrolls, y’know, give props to the folks I read. Well, I don’t know what I have done, I guess I panicked a bit and started cutting and pasting things I had no business cutting and pasting and now my poor little blog looks like a victim of the IceTruck Killer (shout out to Dexter fans).
So, I’m not sure what to do. Do I abandon the project altogether and go back to typing, photocopying and mailing an annual Xmas letter to fill people in on my activities? Start a whole new blog? Continue with this ugly-ass one?

Please don’t suggest I use the Blogger Help feature, instruction manuals and I broke up a looonnnngggg time ago.

Today is my first coffee-free day since I came out the womb some 35 years ago. Okay, well, maybe I’m exaggerating just a little bit, but I have been faithful to Juan Valdez for at least two decades now, with brief, caffeine-free dalliances when I was pregnant with both children. But, Juan always lured me back with his seductive aroma and mood-enhancing abilities. But, as of late, the affair has grown stale. I have to give Juan credit though - he has tried to spice things up in our relationship by adding whipped cream, syrups of a variety of flavours….the cheeky little monkey was even bold enough to add ice to our encounters. He even has a little coffee-porn feature at the Tim Horton’s drive-thru, where you can watch a steamy scene between a coffee and a donut. But all this has been leaving me empty inside lately. In fact, our long affair is leaving me feeling ill and shaky.
I’m sorry Juan, but I’m switching teams. Green Tea has made me promises that you can’t – Green Tea quenches my thirst, unlike you, who leaves me dehydrated and with a fuzzy tongue. Green Tea is promising me a sped up metabolism, while you, Juan, you just leave my guts rotten and churning. And I’m not embarrassed to talk to someone after indulging in a steamy cup of Green Tea, whereas after consuming you, Juan, I try to cover up what I have done with mints and gum.

I am breaking free of you Juan, free after all these years.

Come Green Tea, let us be free, just you and me.

(ooooooh, I see Green Tea can be naughty too!)

Advice to Mom's the second time around....

Don't silence the first born when the second is sleeping. I hated being such a shush-er of my spirited/loud/rambunctious little three year old. I felt like the minute Edie was asleep I followed Grace around the house shush-ing her every move. Not cool. Since then I've witnessed other families pretty much conduct marching bands down the hallway when a baby is sleeping - and the baby continues to sleep even with all that racket!

Our house is much noisier now....

Some mom's in the blogging world are about to have their second...click on the button below and dish out your own words of wisdom.

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!