My girls...

and I'm not talking about Grace and Edie. I'm talking about the ladies who make my life a little fuller. The ladies I'm lucky enough to have as friends.

Work has been crazy busy lately, leaving little time or brain capacity to think of much else. I have wonderful women who have ushered cheques to soccer registration for me, signed up and taken care of BBQ fees for the Sparks graduation ceremony, and my sister has been amazing with her arranging and ushering the kids to swim lessons.
I have a new-ish group of gals who have been nice enough to invite me to an all girls' cottage weekend, one of them even kicking in her car so I can come and go on my own schedule. I have my bestie in Calgary, who while I was conferencing, would usher me back to her house each night to make me dinner, watch Rock of Love with me, and most importantly, laugh her ass off with me (her poor, poor husband). I have another dear old friend who recently breezed into town from the West who said she loved me and missed me and who always makes me smile and feel good about myself and leaves flowers on my doorstep. I have another wonderfully special friend from another country, who has found someone to care for her three kids so she can come and visit me for 3 days in June, simply because we haven't "talked" in way too long. I have my monthly Wine and Whine girls who, whether one shows up or all 14, always make me giggle and make me look forward to the next night we can all get together. I have my movie friend, though not a girl, but he always wants to see the same movie I want to see and laughs at my jokes and snaps pictures of dresses in store windows that he thinks I might like. I also have my blogging buddies who I feel strangely connected with, even though I have only met them one time (if at all).

Without these friends my life would not be as full as it is. I'm grateful for them all.

Meanie’s me-me


I don’t guarantee these to be very interesting facts, and I hesitate to get toooo personal on this blog, but here are the 7 facts I came up with once tagged by Jobthingy for this me-me:


1) I hate wind. Hate it with a passion. Don’t care if helps plants cross-polinate. It makes me cold, blows my hair into my lip gloss and just makes me miserable in general. I literally get anxiety when I walk outside and feel gusts of wind.

2) I am obsessed with skincare. I suspect I have a mild form of post-traumatic stress disorder, stemming from the agony of an acne-ridden adolescence. Thank the pharmaceutical Gods for Accutane.

3) I have been thinking about my next tattoo for about three years now. My one and only tattoo is of Skelli, the “mascot” of Social Distortion. I couldn’t very well get Mike Ness tattooed on me, could I?





4) I lied. I have another tattoo. A really bad, homemade tattoo of the letter B on top of my left arm. Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.

5) I have an amazing vinyl collection that I can’t wait to dedicate more time to once I have more, well, time. And by dedicate time I mean be a total and complete geek by alphabetizing, ranking, polishing, buying plastic sleeves for and adding to the collection.

6) Everytime I see something in the garden bloom that I planted I am filled with such satisfaction. I get more satisfaction out of seeing one of "my" tulips in it's prime than I do after completing a challenging task at work.

7) I love that Jo and I share a similar sense of humour, and I can see Grace developing a similar one too (though biting sarcasm isn’t any easier to take from a 7 year old). Edie has developed a wicked party laugh to make us all feel funny.



I’m supposed to tag, but 8) I can also be lazy. So, go for it if you want!

**thanks Jobthingy for caring!**

I am heading out of town soon for 5 days for work. This is the longest I’ve been away from home and its contents (Jo, Grace and Edie). If everyday of your life has been ritualized to the most mundane detail, this kind of trip is a pretty big deal. I joke about the getaway, 4 nights in a nice hotel, meals made for me, trips to the gym, a t.v. to myself but when it comes right down to it I’m freaking out a little because home is what I strive for from the moment I wake up everyday. I eagerly anticipate hopping off the loser cruiser (OC Transpo yo) and getting the car to pick up the kids.

First up is Grace. I hold back a little before I let her see me. She is always engaged in some intense activity with a friend or two. It usually involves tunneling to China or creating highly important, HIGHLY secretive codes for some vital work they are involved in. When she spots me though she usually comes running and spills her news of the day for a few minutes and then gazes out the car window, deep in thought all the way to Edie’s day care. When we collect Edie she is almost always surrounded by friends, with her shoes on the wrong feet, a smudge of dirt on her face and a ponytail gone bad. As soon as she spots Grace she lights up, abandons the game she’s been in and jumps in my arms. The car ride home is the one unpredictable part of the routine – they either fight the whole time or Grace reads to Edie all the way home. I never know how it’s going to go.

Once home, Grace tackles homework, as does Edie (yes, in her world colouring constitutes academia), while I try to create a meal for dinner, all the while berating myself for not throwing something in the slow cooker the night before.

I love the chaos of our dinner table (just because I’m on the verge of yelling doesn’t mean I don’t love it). Jo and I try to eek out a sentence or two to each other while coaxing kids to eat and being an audience to their stories.

I love the walks after dinner. The walks aren’t exactly vigorous, as Edie gets equally excited for any bird/worm/bug sighting, and has a small soliloquy for each event; and Grace, never one to run a straight line, insists on making an obstacle course out of everything to add a challenge.

Bedtime shenanigans I don’t love so much, but when we get to book time, the feeling of their spirited little bodies slowly, slowly starting relax, also help to relax me. And finally, the best part, the love fest of goodnight, with a million I love you’s and passionate hugs.

So yeah, five days without this kind of routine in my life is going to be strange. But, to counter the separation anxiety I’m bound to feel is the fact that I’m staying in the city where my best friend in whole wide world who loves Pee Wee Herman as much I do lives. This makes me a little giddy.

What a drag it is getting older….

Pedicure season, open-toed shoes, girly-dresses and skirts, fun coloured nail polishes. I look forward to all these things every year when the weather turns to a more civilized temperature.

Looking forward to a warm-ish weekend, booked babysitter and a night-out, I picked my super-fun gold nail polish, sat on the couch, dipped the brush in the bottle, twice for good measure, and brought my foot up on the coffee table for the first foot makeover of the season.

Wha? Well hello there big toe, you look a little different. What’s this you have here? A little toupée? How quaint. Really big toe? Was winter so cold that you had to sprout a few hairs to keep warm? Were you attempting a teeny-tiny disguise to play a trick on me? C’mon, I can handle armpits, legs and bikini area, I’ve got a routine down now that’s pretty efficient. But nowhere have I factored in the Big Toe. That’s just wrong.

Blech. What else do I have to look forward to as I get older? No, don’t tell me. This was traumatic enough.

What's worse???

The other day I was in the bathroom, putting on my face and such. I had my tunes blasting away. At this particular moment, Sex and Violence by the Exploited was on. When Grace came round the corner, I scrambled to skip the song, not wanting her to hear it. I was kind of upset with myself for playing it when the kids were around. I've certainly censored what I listen to when with the girls - some themes are just way too mature for them and I don't feel ready to explain certain lyrics to them just yet. The minivan is primarly a Clash, Ramones and Blondie ride. Sometimes Social Distortion when I'm feeling a little saucy.

I got to thinking though, is this:


really any worse than this?:



I think the latter is so manipulative and sneaky...it drives me nuts that this music is marketed towards kids.


Give the Exploited a listen - lyrics aside, it's a catchy, catchy tune!

Get a babysitter – we’re gonna need one!

Bluesfest 2009 was announced yesterday, and I’m pretty excited about a few of the acts! And who cares if they don’t fit into the blues category – this is always such an exciting time in Ottawa for us to kick back and have some fun!

-Jeff Beck
-Ben Harper
*-Blue Rodeo
-k.d. Lang
**-KISS
-Estelle
-Los Lonely Boys
***-The Yardbirds
****-Steve Earle
-Stone Temple Pilots
*****-Brian Setzer Orchestra



These are the acts that stand out for me…..there are so many others on the list. Here’s the official line-up. Who are you excited about? Please fill me in on someone who is The Awesome who is not on my list, I hate to miss out! (Keep in mind that Our Lady Peace makes my ears bleed).

*Jo and I met Jim Cuddy at their last performance I Ottawa. It’s so strange meeting a “star” – I had sweet f-all to say. Kind of awkward actually. “umm, hi, nice to meet you….yeah, great show. Okay then…”*crickets*

**I presumed Jo dead after a KISS concert many years ago. We were living in sin, and he didn’t come home the night of the concert. When I woke up the next morning, he still wasn’t home. When I was leaving for work I looked out the window and there was a cop car parked there. I literally took a deep breath, marched outside, braced myself for the news that he was dead/in jail/in the hospital. Turns out the cop just liked the looks of our driveway to park and get his day organized. As for Jo, in his drunken state, he figured it would be better if he didn’t come at all.
We’ll be going to KISS together this year. Hmph.

***Wasn’t Eric Clapton a member of the Yardbirds?

****I’ve really liked this guy for a lonnnnggg time. I remember at the tender age of 17 heading to bar one night by myself to see him. That was an intimidating experience. There I was with my kilt and mary jane’s on while surrounded by what seemed like all the Hells Angels chapters in Ontario. Great show though, added to the ambience, and there were no problems. Wow though. Those guys were tough looking (so were their girls).

*****Love Stray Cats. Love Brian Setzer. This music makes me happy. Have never seen them live. When I was about 14 I painted the Stray Cat logo on the back of a jean jacket – it was super cool. Well, some asshat also really liked it because it went missing after a party one night. I still scan the horizon for that vest – it was that special to me.

Really?

So Edie (4 years old) had some homework last week. Her daycare gave her a big poster board, with her picture in the middle, with the instructions to put things on the poster that she likes, doesn’t like, whatever makes Edie Edie.
Awesome. Puffed up with pride because she was like her big sister now, getting homework, Edie got to work immediately. I did help a bit. I pulled magazines for her to look at pictures and pick some she would like to cut out to glue to her poster. I wrote the words she wanted on the poster (“I like tomatoes!” and did the cutting of the pictures. Edie glued (apparently 4 year olds do not have much faith in the power of glue sticks, which explains why Edie used a quarter of a stick for each image). Edie used her keen eye to place the images on the poster in an aesthetically pleasing way (I did have to fix the pictures of Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse – Edie would have left them in a 69 position). The result was an endearing poster, with pictures of tomatoes, balloons, the number 4 and lots of letter E’s (4 and E? Nothing is better than 4 and E. NOTHING). As mentioned, also on there, a slightly debased Mickey and Minnie, Edie’s name written in her own hand, and a big ole picture of her Auntie Lesley’s dog, Bogart. All in all, a wonderful effort, reflecting the spirit of an awesome little 4 year old. We handed in the poster last week, anxiously waiting for it to be hung with those of her peers.

Well, the “installation” took place yesterday.

My God people.

I’m pretty sure some parents stayed up way past their bedtime working on some of these. Trips to Michael’s had been made, 3-D images were glued, poster board had been replaced by better quality, different coloured poster board. Layouts were meticulous, small essays had been written, stenciling took place and I’m pretty sure one was wired for sound (well, I’m exaggerating on that one).

This makes me kind of sad. In no way do these efforts reflect a 4 year old’s talents. I know the parents mean well, and kudos to them for caring so much to turn in such wonderful works of art, but this was a project for your child to embrace! To have fun with a glue stick, to pick pictures that spoke to them, pictures that made them happy. It was meant to give them an opportunity to shine on their own – not for you to show off your made craft skills.

Of course I like Edie’s the best, she’s my kid. But I also think we are going have the better keepsake, a good memory of what was inspiring our child at the tender age of 4.

Sigh. Let your kids be kids.

Good boy!

Dinner party last night. Dinner party quickly turned into a drunky drunky booze fest. My parents were babysitting so I made the early exit to relieve them of their grandparent-ly duties. Jo? Jo did not escape so easily. Jo stayed on. Drank on. From what I understand from the host, wrapped things up around 3:00 a.m. The good boy part? He never made it to bed. He didn't even bother. He quietly, drunkenly snuck downstairs to the spare bedroom (which I'm sure was no easy feat because the girls have boobytrapped the basement so every adult foot makes contact with a barbie stiletto or the sharpest piece of lego one can imagine).

I'm so proud of him. He knew not to even bother entering our bedroom in such a sorry, stinky, loud (snoring state). He FINALLY gets it.

*photo not of Jo. Could be though. This is an image from Google Street View.

Ugh, coughing, sniffles. Not feeling well at all.

Thoughts on Easter: So, when I was growing up, Easter was all about hot cross buns, an easter egg hunt and a big meal to round things off. I have a vague recollection of picture book with a big rock beign rolled away to expose an empty cave with some gauze/bandaids in it.

This year, the girls did all that AND received gifts. Wrapped gifts! There were ribbons, gift bags and tissue paper! Very kind of the gifters, but I'm not sure about this turning Easter into Xmas. Is this a trend in my family only or do you see it happening as well? Being a non-religious family, it is always tricky at Christmas to explain the meaning of Christmas, receiving gifts, etc. but we do our best to explain the whole thing. Now, Easter is a whole new thing to explain. Even if we were religious, how do you explain Easter to the 7 and under crowd? Death is not a topic I choose to explore much, the girls' imaginations don't need the baggage right now.

That brings me to Grace. Walking around my parents back yard yesterday, we showed her the little gravestone where we buried our family dog, McDuff. He died in 2001. She immediately wanted to dig the body up. The more we talked about letting the departed rest, the more frantic she became. We explained that he would only be bones now - this piqued her curiosity even more. I told her I would find photos of, um, decomposed dog remains on the internet. Nope, she wants the real thing. Dying of curiosity (excuse the pun) to see the real thing. What an odd little girl she can be.

Cue to bedtime. Grace and I have a cuddle before I say goodnight. I usually allow her one last question before I go. The questions ranges from can she have a glass of water to what we are doing the next day. Last night's question? If McDuff's body was still underground, does that mean he didn't go to heaven? (Even though non-religious we rely heavily on happy ideas like Heaven). Have you ever tried to explain the notion of spirits/souls crossing over and leaving our bodies behind to a kid? I don't think I did a very good job because she woke up at 2:00 a.m., unable to turn off her brain.

I wish kids would pose questions like a professor poses essay questions. I would have two weeks to think about it and turn in a decent answer instead of the garbage I spew out sometimes.

Cutest thing I heard this weekend: Edie calling a bird's beak a "Tweak" (makes me think of a robin on crystal meth)

Best discovery: We had a dinner party on Saturday and one of our guests was drinking white wine. I only drink red, but because there was one glass left in the bottle I thought I shouldn't waste it so I drank it. It was soooo good! Why didn't anyone tell me white wine was good? Honestly, I depend on you people for these things!
I hereby designate Fridays for red, Saturdays for white, and ummmm, another day for beer.

File under WTF?: I weigh 12 pounds less on the doctor's office scale than I do on our home scale. I try not to dwell tooooo much on these numbers, but c'mon, how could I not smile under those circumstances?

Looking forward to: My first opera, next Saturday. One of those one's that are projected at a movie theatre. Going with my mom and dad. I bet 25 years ago when my folks were driving me to punk gigs that they NEVER dreamed we would be going to the opera together. I know it would have never even entered my mind.

Currently eating: baby potatoes drowning in a balsamic, dijon mustard dressing. So f-ing good.

Made me sad: Holding Grace as she cried herself to sleep last night because she misses a good friend. Big heart in that kid. Really big heart prone to breaking.

What bugs me: Parents at the Children's Museum who lecture their kids about culture, persian rugs and sushi instead of just letting them run amok and discover things in their own time with a little gentle guidance (especially to the woman shrieking for everyone to hear "Do you remember eating sushi when you were 1 1/2 Blessedberry? That's S-U-S-H-I, can you spell that? hahahahahah normally she can spell that, why aren't you spelling it sweetie?" (no, Blessedberry wasn't the kids name, but it might well have been). Seriously, the kid must have been 2 years old, tops.
(I actually love the flashcard I posted above - but that doesn't make me annoying as that woman, does it?
To give credit where credit is due, they can be purchased here)

C'est tout, or is that tous? I always forget.

Happy-Sad.....

So, I have discussed Gracie's desire to be wrapped in nothing but velvety goodness for the past few years. How I have depleted Value Village's size 6x velvet stock on more than one occasion. The velvet obsession never bothered me, in fact, I may have even been a little jealous - particulary of the velvet jumpsuit she occasionally dons on weekends (seriously, a one piece, zip-up slice of velvet heaven in steel-blue).

Well, last week, out of nowhere, Grace took a pair of jeans from her drawer. The jeans had been banished to the back of the bottom drawer. I assumed they would be eventually chucked in the "Edie Bucket" (the tupperware bin I put potential hand-me-downs for Edie in). Grace scurried off to the bathroom to get changed (this is where she gets changed because it is the only door in the house with a lock, and we are a family prone to barging in on people). She came out of the bathroom, wearing her stiff little jeans, with a shy smile on her face "how do they look Mommy?"

*Oh my, oh Gracie, when you put on those jeans you also lost a little baby fat in your face, your gait became even more graceful, and for some reason it brought a tear to my eye and made me want to freeze time.*

You look beautiful.

Are they just dreams?

Grace and Edie are hardcore dreamers. I usually just chalk it up to two kids who have vivid imaginations, and who maybe shouldn't watch so much Scooby Doo. The girls have woken me up with a litany of stories, many of which include people in their rooms; little girls, grown ups, and some who are just too scary to describe. I'd be lying if I said this didn't freak me out, because it does. And I know dismissing it as a bad dream doesn't help them that much - I remember losing a lot of sleep as a kid just from being scared of stuff.

I recently read a book by Sylvia Browne, many of whom will dismiss as a quack. She says children are more succeptible to seeing ghosts because they aren't as jaded as we are yet and not quite so prone to dismissing things because they are "impossible". And sometimes it isn't scary for them because they aren't programmed to think that kind of stuff is scary. Edie has talked quite fondly about a little girl in her room, and has asked where she has gone in the morning, like she misses her.

What do you think, do you believe in ghosts? Do you think sometimes young kids are actually seeing something we can't?

Now, last night Edie woke me with a blood curdling scream because aligators were biting her feet. I do draw the line at reptilian ghosts. I do think that was just a really bad dream.

A few things.....

Toronto was great. Is it a bad thing that I didn't really miss my kids? I think if I had stayed one more day, there may have been some pining on my part, but it was the perfect amount of time to get away. I don't think they missed me much either. I guess sometimes everyone needs a break from each other.

Thursday night I went to a fab party, put on my $3 Value Village find (a belted pinstripe tunic dress that is just wonderful) and my awesome booties with zippers all over them. I met Ashley McIsaak (is that how you spell his name) and some really great artists; dined a great restaurant called Lee (yum) and had a great evening with co-workers but with no shop-talk. So fun to the social side of people you usually just talk about work with.

The next day, my wonderful Jo mapped out all my prime destinations for me on Google maps (seriously, how many husbands to that?) and I be-bopped my way downtown, down Queen St. stopping in lots of places, buying little but inspired by much. I met my sister-in- law for a beer in the late afternoon. With the sun shining, it was bliss. I then met up with a girl friend who I don't think I have seen for 20 years. It was a facebook reunion. So crazy. Last time we saw each other we were in kilts, docs and donning mohawks or shaved heads or whatever and likely drunk or high. And there we were, both sane, responsible adults. It was nice to see her again.

The next day I got to stroll with my 17 month old nephew, whom I have never really been able to enjoy without the distraction of my own kids. It was heaven, listening to him babble, pointing with his chubby little fingers at everything that amazed him on a beautiful spring morning. So nice. It was also nice hanging with Jo's brothers and their wives, without the distraction of my brood, and getting to talk, really talk, about life and such.

It was a fantastic weekend, but I have to balance my report with a few shitty happenings:

1) Thanks for the book recommendations. I ordered them all but they hadn't been delivered by the time I left on Wednesday, so no great literature was to be read. I did pick up the latest Vanity Fair and Nylon magazines though, but left them in my Dad's van when he dropped me off at the train station. I only had an Ottawa Sun (ewww!) to read on a 41/2 hour train ride to Toronto. This left me with wayyyy to much time trapped in my own head and I am now rethinking my whole career path and thinking that change is imminent. Stay tuned.

2) The first night I sleep away from home, I rarely sleep unless I bring my mommy's little helper pills (mlhp's). I forgot my mlhp's so what should have been a respite from Edie walking me 2x a night with reports on her hangnail/status of her art project at daycare/the fact that her friend likes ladybugs ALOT, was a night with hardly any sleep.

3) The second night, the great dinner I had with my long lost friend must have been just riddled with MSG because I was up until about 3:30 in the morning with a racing heart and the shakes. That how I roll with MSG, it sucks.

However, to end on a positive note, I had a window seat to myself on the train ride home, with the sun shining in, a book that my brother lent me, and the rocking of the train lulled me to sleep on more than one occasion.



And I was happy to see my little brood when I arrived home.

the Bad: putting on my parka this morning after bannishing it to the basement
the Good: hearing Edie say "I love Spring, all the little people come out of their holes"

the Bad: Christian Dior waterproof mascara. I'm pretty sure if I grabbed some hot tar off the street and globbed it on my eyelashes, it would be exactly the same thing (only not $32!!!)

the Good: I look kinda pretty in a sleepy way without mascara on.

the Good: a closet full of awesome clothes

the Bad: being so fucking sick of winter clothes


the Bad: R.I.P my cute little cellphone with all my songs on it - got soaked in my yoga bag when by water leaked.

the Good: a sweet hip friend who gave me iPod mini because she has since upgraded (ummmm, anyone know how to work a mini???)


the Bad: a zero social life this week

the Good: 8 hours sleep, every night. Bliss


the Bad: hearing Edie moan and cry at night

the Good: we are breaking the soother habit at long last. Wish us luck.


the Good: Grace is reading and spelling!

the Bad: Grace can now decode everything Jo and I spell to each other that we don't want the kids to hear. Oh, did I mention she is fluent in both official languages? I think Jo and I will have to take a course in Mandarin or something to stay one step ahead of that girl.


the Good: Hopping on a train on Thursday, heading to Toronto for an "industry" party, hanging with friends and family, leaving the kids at home.

the Bad: ummmm, I'm sure by Saturday I'll be missing the homefront? Maybe?


On that note, I will be on a train for close to five hours on Thursday and again on Saturday. I will have that amount of time UNINTERRUPTED to read. Suggestions please! I don't really like the Harry Potter or Twilight genres.....but if you had read something fab, preferably Canadian (I can borrow Can-lit from work) please let me know.

My Fridays off thus far....

Here is where I whine and moan and likely get no sympathy from anybody. That's okay. It's my blog, I'll do what I want.

I took a new job in January. The job pays more money, I have an office, with a door, and I'm able to work a four day week. *bliss*. The job is challenging, but not in a "look at your fucking blackberry!" kind of challenging. More like a train going steadily up a really, really big hill kind of challenging. Anyhoooo, the Friday off. This was to be my day to do whatever I want. Get groceries done, do some slowcooking to keep the freezer stocked with meals, attack the clutter belching basement and get things in order again, and, dammit, maybe even go to a matinee. Well, having this day off made me feel a little guilty, so I offered to volunteer for a few hours each Friday morning at Gracie's school. That's fine. I'd still have a whole afternoon to myself. Well, there were eye appointments, doctor appointments, dental appointments to catch up on. Done. As of last Friday, the last oil change was done on the second child and we are all caught up. So, this Friday, THIS Friday was to be my first day with no committments, no appointments. I don't even have a volunteer shift at school.
Well, my boss, who is so kind and flexible just knocked on my door, and there is a meeting she wants me attend on Friday. I know she wouldn't ask if it wasn't important (she doesn't cry wolf) so once again my Friday is hijacked.

Feel sorry for me?

Organic cake, Whoop Ass and Lord of the Flies....or, A Seven Year Old's Birthday Party.

Gracie's birthday party was on Saturday. We decided to do a home party this year because last year we hosted at Cosmic Germventures, we ended up shelling out a kajillion dollars for a) a place for kids to play b) unmotivated teens who drew stick figures on the kids cheeks and called it "face painting" and c) watered down orange "drink" and tartrazine laden cake (leave me alone, tartrazine is my latest nemesis in life).
And so, the home party. Grace is on a spy kick, so I made a cake that looks like a spy glass. Did you hear what I just said (wrote?) I made a cake. In a shape. That was not a square. And I iced it. And decorated it. And wrote names and stuff on it. I'm usually the gal at Loblaws barking out orders as to what decorations should be on the cake and where, but this time I did it myself.....and it was organic (bragging rights!) I guess I thought the organic-ness of the cake might have a calming, kumbaya effect on Gracie's peeps. No such luck.
The one extravagance we allowed ourselves was to hire a magician. A nice man, who came to do a nice show. I'm sure when he saw the girls and one boy, squeaky clean and dressed to the nines, he thought it was going to be an easy gig. Heh.
I literally had to physically remove a creature from his pant leg. I had to time out a child THAT WAS NOT MY OWN on the stairs for harassing him ("I know your secrets!" "You're boring!"). One child was contorted in such a position for the entire show that I thought she was waiting for a diaper change. Seriously. I had to press pause on the video recorder, plug Edie's and my own mother's ears when one child went off on a "friggin" tangent. I'm sure the magician wanted to take his wand and whisk these little cretins to Guantanamo Bay. The show ended to cheers and to boos. The room was divided. The lines had been drawn. The mood had been set. There were kids who wanted to please me (I like these kids) and the kids who wanted to create complete anarchy (respect - I am an ex-punk rocker after all).
For the final hour I had to entertain with games and prizes. I pretty much relieved Jonas of his duties as he a little bit more old school than me and was itching to open a can of whoop ass on the anarchists.
As for the games and prizes? When one child opened her prize, she loudly exclaimed "I hate this!" which led some other children to also voice their dislike of their prizes. I felt like Piggy in Lord of the Flies. You know what darlings? Here's a dollar. Go to the dollar store and pick your own freaking gift. Luckily my lovely Grace had more grace than I and suggested the kids trade gifts so everyone could get something they like.
There more moments of loveliness, including seeing Gracie's face when she was the magicians assistant, hearing one of her friends jump to Edie's defence when another girl was picking on her, watching the kids gobble up my cake and enjoying my efforts, hearing them say it was an awesome party when their parents came to pick them up, and that brings me to the best part of all, the parents coming to pick them up.
Grace had a blast. That was also the best part of all.

Random:

My amazing husband re-did our basement bathroom (think wood panelling, a shower from the movie Seven and a floor you'd want to wear bio-hazard boots to walk on) for about $25. He's amazing. He did it all with 2 cans of spray paint, a container of paint sealer and some left over white paint we had. I will post pictures. We were going to gut this bathroom and do a full reno, then got to thinking that is used so little, why not just clean it and do a little aesthetic makeover? It worked! Yippee!

Edie's birthday went off without a hitch. I had plenty of activities planned, but in the end realized that 4 year olds, without their parents, just want to roam, explore and play with someone else's toys. I was a little disappointed that I couldn't put on the puppet show I had been practicing. It was going to be my first gig since getting the puppet theatre.

Played Rock Band on Saturday night, and i think I have a repetitive strain injury from playing bass with a little too much enthusiasm. Oh, and for the most boring rock star experience, pick up the bass for Beastie Boys Watcha Want.....yawn....

Took Edie swimming on Sunday, caught glimpse of self in mirror, thought I was on acid because it looked like my leg, specifically thighs, were melting. What's that contraption that Chrissy from Three's Company was always swearing by? I think I need one of those.

Jo quit his job a few weeks back. The day he handed in his notice he started coming home at 5:00 p.m. I cannot begin to tell you what a positive impact this has had on our family. Relaxed mealtimes all together, homework harmony, time to play, talk, etc etc. If anyone ever questioned work/life balance, it's so worth fighting for. Also, when I switched jobs my Blackberry went with it. Jo will also be ditching his Blackberry as of Friday. No more flashing lights distracting us after work hours.

And now I'm about to give away the best beauty secret here. Because I was looking as so dry and shrivelled up, and was worried that XUP might start hating on me because I was ageing, I decided to change up my beauty routine. Ponds Cold Cream. Honestly. Glowing. Dewy. Moisturized. All that for 11 bucks.

This particulary chipper post is brought to you from a Venti Bold from Starbucks.

Sigh. The bloom is off the rose, as they say.

The birthday celebrations were fun for all (though how 7 adults ended up slightly hungover after a 4 and 7 year birthday party is beyond me) and now I find myself dealing with WHY.

The 4 year old, though wide eyed and cute, seems to be incorporating the word "why" into her breathing pattern. Breathe in, why out. Seriously. I know I should encourage her charming curiosity, but I don't fucking know why she likes straws, that's for her to answer, not me. I don't know why she painted the picture blue, again, that was her decision to make, not mine. Why is she asking me these questions and not turning inward for the answers? I do remember this phase with Grace, though Grace tended to ask why about things she could not control, like the colour of the sky, the wierd gelatin in diapers after they've reached maximum absorption, that kind of stuff. Genuine curio.

Speaking of Grace, she is not beyond asking why, however, her why questions have a new spin to them. They include a hand on one hip, the other hip jutted out, and I think I detect a slight sneer when she asks the question and they usually come after I've asked her to do something terribly taxing like putting her socks in the dirty laundry hamper.

Why am I out of pinot noir??????

It's not the first time....

Someone asked me about what my girls names are. I told this person Grace and Edie. This person asked if Edie was named after Idi Amin. Yes, Jonas and I greatly admire the brutal Ugandan dictator, and wanted to forever commemorate him by naming our daughter after him. Gawd. People have also asked if she is named after Edie on Desperate Housewives. Now, I have never watched this show, but from what I understand, the character Edie is a slutty little thing, so no, we did not name our daughter after a pop culture figure who will fizzle out shortly, forever forgotten. Actually, I first heard the name Edie from Andy Warhol's Factory days. While I wouldn't say we named Edie after her, (she was a socialite, drug addicted, and likely died of suicide) I can safely say she inspired the name. And tragic life aside, she was kind of a cool cat.

So, not:




and not:





sort of:



But one day, I bet kids will be named after our fab little Edie.




Happy 4th birthday Edie Bikini!

7 years old!?

If Grace is having a particularly rancourous day (is that a word? It should be if it isn't), I try to take her outside in the early evening and run her a little bit, in an effort to burst some of those little of atoms of energy bouncing around her body. When I took her out last Saturday for "the Walk", she didn't go charging out of the starter gate. Instead, at the base of our driveway, she reached for my hand. And so we walked. And we talked. She told me about the 4th grader who sometimes breaks the fort that her and her friend Katrina work so hard make. She asked me about the degree of severity of swear words, from worse to not so bad (I hid my smile when she informed me that the D word is "Dumb"). She told me that she wants to grow her bangs out. She told me that she doesn't really like TreeHouse anymore, the shows are too babyish and she now likes Zach and Cody, Suite Life and Hannah Montana. She also expressed concern that this will cause problems, because her sister is still very much into "baby"' shows like Max and Ruby. She told me that when she grows up she would like to be a spy, or a swimmer. She's not too sure yet.

I can't really remember what all else we talked about, but I do remember my eyes welling up on that walk, thinking about this precious, wonderful kid I have been given. Amazed that she is turning seven, and getting so mature. Remembering feeling like just a kid myself when we brought her home from the hospital, wondering what I was supposed to do with her. And then remembering when my instinct kicked in and walking the hallway with her, singing "This Little Light of Mine" to her over and over again until she would settle and fall asleep. Now, when we sing that song together, and part of me thinks that she too remembers those early bonding days. I hope we will always have that bond.

Happy Birthday my little light, shine on.

(sorry kiddo, Zac Efron hasn’t done a version of this song yet, but here are some pretty good alternatives)