hfdjakh fjdkahfn hgaido dahofdsof.

that's pretty much all i'm capable of typing after this holiday season. it's been great, but i'm freaking tired.

and why are my kids playing with a button on a string after i bought polly pocket world and dora's talking vanity set?

What every girl wants for Christmas......

Gaaaackkk! I've got presents to buy, cookies to bake, suitcases to pack, charitable work to be done, meaning of Christmas to explain and all the other non-Xmas related domestic duties to take care of.

No time to blog. however, please enjoy a daily dose of my favourite Xmas clips....much funnier than I could ever dream to be.

I wonder if Shakespeare has this kind of inspiration for his plays?

*Curtain*

The setting: Dinner on Sunday night, our dining room table.

Grace: MAMMAAA??? IS DADDY ALLOWED TO WATCH FOOTBALL DURING DINNER????

Edie: I wanna watch Max and Ruby!

Mother: No Edie. Hmmmm, ask Daddy what he thinks.

Grace: Daddy? Daaadddddyyyyy? DADDY!

Father: Hummm? What?

Grace: ARE YOU ALLOWED TO WATCH FOOTBALL DURING DINNER?

Mother: (hopeful look in my direction, my direction shoots daggers right back at him) errr, no. (turns off t.v.)

Mother: Edie, to the table please, it’s dinner time.

Edie; (playing with her dolls) I’m feeding my babies!

Mother: Well, it’s time for you to eat.

Edie: NO!

Mother: Edie, do I have to count to 3?

Edie: (scurries, hops, whatever that strange thing she does, to the table). I don’t like this! (pointing to a carrot)

Mother: It’s a carrot Edie, you eat them every day.

Edie: NO!

Grace: EDIE EAT YOUR DINNER OR ELSE NO DESERT RIGHT MOMMY!!???

Edie: (tears) I want desert!!!!

Mother: Then eat some dinner please.

Edie: (shoves hommos smeared carrot into her mouth, proceeds to put head on my lap, I get a good view of her snotty nose and chewed up carrot and hommus in her mouth).

Mother: Now let’s try some casserole Edie.

Edie: NO!

Grace: I LOVE IT MOMMY CAN I HAVE MORE?

Edie: No Gracie!

Grace: EDIE I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING EAT YOUR DINNER!

Edie: No! (shoots plate across dinner table at Gracie)

Grace: (some guttural noise I can’t type)

Edie manages to eat a little, and when desert came along (a yogurt tube), she (accidentally) squirted it all over the floor and then (quite purposefully) smeared it all over the floor with her foot. Mother reaches for the bottle of scotch

And scene.

What’s Sunday dinner like at your house???

'Twas three weeks before Christmas, and all through the house, a mother was thinking "My kids don't need a damn thing".

Seriously, we went to get rid of some toys to make room for the inevitable onslaught of new toys, and mistakenly did it in the presence of the two rugrats. All of a sudden, the dingiest, most worn, least played with toys suddenly became "My Most Specialist Toy in the World!" and any effort to get rid of some extra crap was kaiboshed (sp?)

I am going to go through this crap (I mean Most Specialist Stuff) and ditch the broken and donate the unused.

On that last note of charity, Grace has expressed interest in doing "something" charitable this year. Any suggestions? I get to take a volunteer day at work and would like to do something special with her. Has anyone done something like this with a 5 1/2 year old before? Work at the food band for a few hours? Put Christmas baskets together? I'm open to suggestions.

I'm an adult now.....

Okay, this week sucked balls big time. I think I have been cruising through life, living like a teenager, and God all of sudden realized he forgot to give me real, grown-up issues to deal with, so He threw them at me all at once. Here is what the Big Guy dished out to me this week:

- At work I usually do really well, get the job done, get along with everyone, and enjoy every minute of it. Well, this week I dropped the ball on task big time, disappointed colleagues and really felt the brunt of it. Uggh.

- Last night while driving the kids home from day care, I felt the overwhelming responsility of the two little lives in hands while I navigated home on the treachourous, scary roads (surrounded by scary drivers I might add). Ugh.

- When I dropped Edie off at day care this morning, I could hear her screams as I left the building and felt the most guilt a mother could ever possibly feel. (It didn't help matters at well when once in the car Grace said "Hey Mommy! I think I can still hear Edie screaming!") Ugh.

-When out grocery shopping today, I stopped in at a shoe store and tried on the most delicious pair of boots....then I realized that this is an extra big grocery shop week because we were out of a lot of stuff, so buh-bye pretty boots. Ugh.



And how am I dealing with being an adult? Even though I highlight the bejeezies out of my hair every 8 weeks, a gray hair sprung to life on top of my head. Double ugh.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=pSDF8VvU13M

Do you have a happy place? I do. It's my nice hot shower at the end of the day. A place to be alone, froth myself up into a lavendar stupor and forget earlier events. We have an ensuite off the master, no bath tub (yet - it is in the "plans") and the girls have their own bathroom, with a tubbie and a shower. You would think that they would be satisfied with that.
Well, imagine my chagrin when I noticed that my happy place had been invaded (by "noticed" I mean I screamed out in pain when I plunked the ball of my foot down on a dinasaur horn and my heel on a marble).......






I thoughtfully left the scene of the crime intact for Jo's 6:30 a.m. shower, I'm good like that.

I had a pretty proud parenting moment tonight. Out of respect for Grace, I won't go into details, but basically she did something that wasn't so great and it was bugging her enough that she wanted to trust me and tell me about (heh heh, she inherited my guilty conscience). When she did tell me about, she immediately voiced her concern over how I was going to deal with it. We came up with a very reasonable solution together and I know that she feels good about how it was dealt with. I'm so glad that a) she trusted me enough in the first place and that b) I won't have to breach her trust. I know, I know, you seasoned parents out there are probably saying that this is only the beginning, but it really meant a lot to this relatively "fly by the seat of her pants" kind of parent.

Edie on the other hand, I'm a little worried about. Girlfriend has gotta lay off the acid. I caught our 2 1/2 year old staring down one of our vents saying "don't let me monkeys come and get me". Wow. Anybody ever watch that show Intervention? I think my family may be next.

On the subject of hair….

Like many other mothers out there, my mom swore by the bowl cut. Hey, why not, it was practical, low maintenance, and because your hair looked like a helmet anyways, hat head was never an issue in the winter. Of course, you could play with the bowl cut a little bit. For example, I clearly remember at Christmas time, my mom attacking me with a curling iron and burning my tender little ears in order to fancy up the salad bowl on my head for the Christmas pageant at church. I also remember attempting to adorn my bowl with barrettes and clips to distinguish myself from the boys for our class pictures.

Now I have my own daughters and I can see how I impose my own fashion views on them. Of course, I would never dream of giving them a bowl cut. Instead, with my eighties sensibilities and rock’n’roll spirit, I view the Joan Jett rocker cut to be the most versatile of all cuts for a young girl. As I was brushing out Grace’s hair last night, I realized, short of dying her hair black, I have been bringing her to the hairdresser and slowly having her hair styled into this 80’s rock-goddess. Grace has no time for barrettes, ponytails or ribbons. Her favourite pants are black velvet, and her winter coat is hot-pink and black leopard skin. I think this haircut is quite appropriate for our almost six year old.

I lightheartedly resent my Mom for making me look like Friar Tuck for a good chunk of my childhood. I wonder if Grace will resent me for making her look like a rock'n'roll legend?

So Alison posted a challenge of sorts – to share hairstyles of days gone by. While this particular photo doesn’t capture the essence of what was going in the my head in the early eighties, it definitely conjures up memories for me:

• An almost Sapphic obsession with Belinda Carlisle. Do you remember when Belinda quit the Go-Go’s and started her own career? Do you remember when she cut one side of her hair shorter than the other? Do you remember legions of young woman walking around with their head tilted to one side as if weighted down by the longer hair?
• Note the helmet like quality of the hair. It looks like I could pop that hair on and off on a whim. To achieve this lego hair, I probably popped a hole or two into the ozone layer with my heavy consumption of French Formula hairspray. The.best.hairspray.evah.
• Sore neck. See above entry for the longer hair on one side thing. All that holding my head to one side for hours on end left me with a huge kink in my neck.
• Pimples. See above entry for heavy use of hairspray. All that hairspray on my bangs in particular left me with tons of pimples on my forehead. This led to an inappropriate use of foundation clearly not matched to my skin tone, but that is an entry for another day.
• Party in the front, business in the back. Because I could only see the front of my head, I assumed the rest of world could only see me that way too. I spent countless hours on the front of my hair, but don’t remember caring a whole lot about the back of my head, and definitely did not waste a drop of French Formula on something people couldn’t see!

It is probably because of this “Belinda Syndrome” that I now use hairspray so sparingly and have a perfectly balanced haircut.

I do have “Heaven is a Place on Earth" on my MP3 though……

WHOO HOO I'M LEARNING STUFF!

I'm at a conference all week (local) and the hours of the conference differ from my normal work hours. I am seeing what a creature of habit/routine I am because I am royally messed up! Everything from what time to catch the loser cruiser in the morning to the crowds on the later afternoon buses are messing with my psyche. Therefore, I don't feel I can give you the kind of quality blogging you have come to expect of me so I am taking the week off.

(Why oh why is this conference taking place in Ottawa and not in say, Vegas or Hawaii? Lucky me, Ottawa in November, much like Paris in the Spring time, I'm sure).

Lessons learned?


-When will I learn not comment about my children's bowel movments? Apparently if I can express pride in a public bathroom over Edie's poopie, she feels she can too over mine(as she did tonight at a Hallowe'en function at my place of employment....maybe I'll get a raise now?)

-When will I learn not to get trashed at a PartyLite party? As of Friday night, I am the proud owner of $xx.xx of candles (too embarassed to put the real number in). So pretty! So shiny! So smelly!

-When will I learn to not promise to take my 2 girls plus 2 other girls out to a Hallowe'en party when I am completely hungover? THAT was a fun day.

Have you learned any hard lessons lately?

I've been tagged! This is pretty fun, if, y'know, you like to talk about yourself ad nauseum *nods head violently*. Join in on the fun!

Thanks Alison for tagging me on this!


4 jobs I’ve had

Club Monaco (where size 2 girls go to feel fat and where I fell in love with “the gays”)
Museum of Science and Technology (choo-choo train technical drawing archivist – eeeyah, as exciting as it sounds)
Stats Can archivist (a litte more exciting….)
Portrait Gallery of Canada – Yes! I have arrived! This is a pretty fun job….

4 movies I could watch over and over

Goodfellas, Pretty in Pink, Breakfast Club and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, every holiday season.

4 TV shows I watch

The Office, 30 Rock, Gray’s Anatomy and, don’t judge me, America’s Next Top Model (Tyra is so fierce!)

*I did not know that The Tudor’s had started already, shit! I’ve got some lips I mean t.v. to catch up on!

4 places I’ve lived

Manotick, Lennoxville Quebec, Ottawa (ummmm, now I’m depressed)

4 favourite foods

Pecan pie, lasagne, sweet potato fries, does wine count as a food?

4 favourite colours

Tofino sunset, Frozen canal, Frontenac brick and Muskoka dust……

JUST KIDDING!

Light yellow, moss green, black, charcoal grey

4 places I’d love to be right now

In-law’s cottage on couch in front of the fireplace with my book; Las Vegas Rockabilly convention; Richard Branson’s island for super-rich people; and, well, I’m feelin’ a little sentimental today, I would actually like to be at home with my family.

4 names I love but could/would not use for my children

Ava, Eva, (friends grabbed them before we could); Henry, Gordon (didn’t have boys).


My turn to tag……I’m gonna task my new friend Allisa and my old friend Chantal

Friday to Sunday, à la Meanie
A family celebration on Friday night, honouring my brother’s 40th (!) birthday ended in near tragedy when my sister’s own little baby, a Boston Terrier puppy named Bogart was hit by an SUV. This little dog, filled with piss and vinegar, was bounced down the road after being hit by a truck going about 60. It happened at about 10:00 p.m. After two nights in emergency, he’s doing just fine. They are calling him a miracle dog. You know what the best part about this story is? A group of kids across the street saw what happened and heard my sister’s screams. The next day, one of the kids, a 12 year old boy, knocked on my parents door with flowers for my sister, because he was so sad for her. Wow. Somebody’s parents are doing a good job with their kid. That’s awesome.

While Grace hasn’t been super popular at home lately, she sure is with the rest of the world. She was invited over for a pancake breakfast on Saturday, picked up from there to go to karate, never made it home because her karate partner wanted her to come over to his house for the afternoon. When I picked her up, there was Grace, holding court to 4 young boys in her friend’s bedroom. Gulp. Girlfriend sure is comfortable with herself. Actually, it was a pretty nice day as it gave me time to hang out with little Edie, who now has her own little extracurricular activity – gymnastics! It is freaking adorable watching a 2.5 year old jump with glee on a trampoline. I also had two drop-ins, one from my boy Christopher and another from a Mommy from my stay-at-home days. Made me feel as popular as Grace!

For bonus points, Jo’s Mom babysat for us Saturday night. Friends of ours also secured sitters and a group of us headed out to the bar for some beer and hockey. Go Sens Go!

Sunday welcomed us with open arms and it was declared pumpkin patch day. The girls were reluctantly bundled (the first cold day is always such a shock) and we headed out. Grace put as many pumpkins on the wagon that she could (and was fairly rational when I insisted we couldn’t liberate the patch of 2 dozen pumpkins). Edie seemed wary of the patch – sitting in the wagon with her “dolly”, patting Dolly’s back, saying “is okay dolly” over and over again.

When we came home, waiting for the girls were two friends. I like to call them football orphans – last fall their dad came over pretty much each Sunday to watch football with Jo with his girls played with ours.

I love this time of year, it’s an awesome, cozy feeling kind-of season.

Okay. I’m putting it out there. I don’t like my 5.5 year old. I love her, but I just don’t like her right now. She is the opposite of everything I like about people. I feel like I am constantly fighting with her. I want to raise our girls well, with an emphasis on kindness, consideration and empathy. Grace is managing to make me feel like a complete failure by being unkind, inconsiderate and completely lacking in empathy. I am shocked and embarrassed when a doting grandparent requests a hug and she denies them. I want to crawl under a rock when someone pays her a compliment and rudely responds. I won’t even say what I want to do when she sasses back at me or laughs at me when trying to discipline her . I know I shouldn’t let it get to me as much as it does, and the more I react the worse it gets, but it’s just so hard to not sink to her 5 year old level .
So what are we going to do about this? The poor girl doesn’t know that I used to watch Dr. Phil faithfully when on my last maternity leave. Grace doesn’t know that I am fully ammo’d with Phil’s parenting solutions. Girlfriends’ goin’ down…..

Please, faithful readers (all two of you), is this normal behaviour for a 5.5 year old? Does it pass? Does the milk of human kindness ever infuse their little souls?

Little Blue Car
On Sunday morning, from the moment they woke up to the moment they went to bed, Grace and Edie were at it. Competing for a gold medal in pain-in-the-assness, they fought over everything – what show to watch, what book to look at, what colour of maker to use, what air to breathe, etc. The most ridiculous of all the things to fight about was a little blue hotwheels car. My girls are not car girls. Edie is all about the dolls right now and Grace is all about the puzzles. No one is all about the cars. However, someone dug up this little blue car and it became the piece de resistance of the day, each girl tracking how long the other had it for. “My car! Mine!” became background noise for me, and the noise got to be too much, and the car became MINE!, confiscated to the shelf where toys go to die.
After much protest, the girls moved on, finding something else to fight about, and the blue car was forgotten. Forgotten that is, until 2:30 in the morning , when screams from Edie’s room woke me up. Upon rushing to her bedside, ready to dole out Love, Tylenol, whatever, I could make out her crying “My blue car, MINE!”
Just let it go Edie, just let it go.


A huge thanks to Chantal, MamaTulip, Trollbaby, Alison and anyone else who linked to this entry. The comments from everyone have been so kind and supportive, and I’m so pleased that the message is getting out there. I’m also saddened by how many “Me too” stories there are out there.
Special thanks to my Friend who was willing to let me share her story – I hope your kind comments bring her comfort and strength to keep fighting this.

I often get emails about “true stories” about how we should be careful because someone knows someone who knows someone else who had something bad happen to them. Sometimes the occurrences heighten our awareness of things, but , more often than not, these messages get a quick read, and are then forgotten, deleted from my inbox.

Something bad happened last year. Something too close to home. Something happened to my best friend. She’s given me the okay to write about it here as she wants to raise awareness. I want you to read it and take away from it what will.

I have a best friend (can you relate to that?)
My best friend is in her thirties (can you relate to that?)
She has been married for close to a decade (can you relate to that?)
She likes to go out with girlfriends and have a drink or two and laugh and be social (can you relate to that?)
She went with some friends to a bar (can you relate to that?)
She ordered a martini or two (can you relate to that?)
She danced (can you relate to that?)
She got up to go use the bathroom (can you relate to that?)

Here is the part where you may stop relating, but please read on.

Someone put something in her drink.

She doesn’t remember anything that happened after that. She remembers waking up, in a strange apartment, to a fat, ugly man beside her. She remembers all the blood from her broken nose. She remembers the physical pain from other abuses he imposed on her. She remembers seeing her broken necklace. She remembers him trying to convince her that what had happened was consensual. She remembers him having the balls to drive her home, all the while trying to convince her that what had happened was mutual.

She went straight to the hospital where the police were called in. She remembers, most vividly, most painfully, the cops (the good guys) trying to blame what had happened on her, telling her she was a married woman who was embarrassed about an indiscretion. Even after evidence of large amounts of drugs being found in her system, a broken nose, bruises all over her body, the cops were still unsympathetic, telling her that they had been called in on the weekend to deal with this. She remembers being resented.

She remembers wondering how she could possibly tell her husband about this. She had to be tested routinely for every STD possible, as the rapist did not use a condom.

This happened mid-October last year. She needs counseling once a week, sometimes more. She takes a pharmacy worth of pills to deal with what happened to her. Even a year later, I held her in my arms the other night while she sobbed, and could not help but think I was holding something broken, and wondered if she could ever be fixed.

Please, whether you are a mom, sister, aunt, friend, WHATEVER. Please pass this story on so it doesn’t happen close to your home. Thank god my friend is strong enough and willing to share her story and fight for what is right. Please, go out, have fun, but always be aware.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, ...

On Saturday, we had to say good bye to a wonderful friend. A friend, who mercifully gave us a break from life every weekend for an hour or two. A friend, who served as an elixir for cranky pants and meltdowns. A friend, who initially would visit sometimes three times a day, then two, and then weaned us down to one visit per day. A friend, who was hard to find and who is now equally hard to bid an adieu to.
We are saying good bye to Edie’s nap. I realized it was finally time to do this, when, after an hour long power nap on Saturday, Edie insisted on partying like it was 1999 until eleven o’clock on Saturday night. You have to understand. If I’m not out drinking at this hour on a Saturday night, I’m hopefully blissfully lounging on the couch watching a movie with Jo, WITHOUT a rugrat at my feet. Evenings are kid-free and I feel pretty strongly about this. And so, we will have to endure that rough transition from happy, well-rested child (who is difficult to put to bed at night) to a child who is prone to magnificent, dramatic five alarm meltdowns over something as simple as a blemish on an apple (no, really).
I feel a little cheated with the whole nap phenomena. Grace was never a great napper, and gave up the nap pretty much the same day I realized I was pregnant with Edie (oh God, I was so tired!)
Edie would always nap like a champ at day care, but not so much at home. She would tease us with 45 minutes here and there, but never anything solid. It’s only recently that it seems she would sleep as long as we would let her, but, of course, that causes the aforementioned issue of wanting to partake in the excitement of our household in the evening (I guess a 2 1/2 year sees the potential of excitement in laundry, dishes and lunch making).

And so, good bye Nap, thanks for the memories.

Do you think we could sell it on the Home Shopping Channel?

Oh my God, I think this is hilarious. When I was taking Edie out of the bath tonight and wrapping her in her towel, Jo was bringing Grace a glass of milk. Jo spilled a little milk on the floor. He looked around, said to me "Pass me that?" pointing at Edie. I passed her over, and he proceeded to mop up the milk on the floor with the swaddled Edie. Heh, at least two year olds are good for something!

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, Guess I'll go eat worms, Long, thin, slimy ones; Short, fat, juicy ones, Itsy, bitsy, fuzzy wuzzy worms. ...

i usually like to keep this blog pretty light - joke around about the "crazy" things my kids do, make light of how they drive me crazy. not tonight. nope, i don't have a funny bone left in my body. in fact, this past weekend my children sucked the marrow out of my funny bone. i actually shed a tear tonight with the way they completely overwhelmed me. it wasn't even over anything major - it was just things like a soon as one mess was cleaned up, i had to clean another. as soon as one meal was prepared and cleaned up after, another one had to be made, cleaned up after. as soon as one fight was resolved, another fire had to be put out, etc, etc. i know this is nothing new to anybody with kids, but today it really got to me. it doesn't help either when recently, in conversation, friends of mine have said how lucky they are that their kids rarely fight and are the best of friends, and how another mentioned how lucky she is because her children play so independently. wow. my kids are always fighting; i thought it was the older who was the prime instigator, but the two year old has developped some amazing antagonizing tactics. my kids RARELY play independently - they constantly need me to guide them through crafts, playtime, even colouring. of course, the guilt of the working mom kicks in here, i feel like it's my fault that they can be so needy and need my constant attention.
all i really wanted to do tonight was watch the pre-emmy show, y'know, the one where you see what everyone is wearing? and tonight i couldn't. and i forgot i that i have that recording ability on my t.v.

*one kind of funny thing - i was looking at my stats for my blog and found out that one of the ways that people find my blog is by googling "old mommies" - PERVERTS!

LAZY DAY

I've got nothing to say today.

Aside from the great bloggers I check in on regularly, I also need a weekly, sometimes daily fix of gossip. Read these instead:


Perez
Page Six
Socialitelife
Go Fug Yourself
ooohhhh, confessions!

And, to prove I have some depth to me, I just stumbled upon this site - it is amazing for Mom's interested in/concerned about body image after giving birth.


If you have any others you'd like to share with me, please feel free!

(oh, and I think mentioning Facebook is just. too. obvious.)

A Little Bit of Ying with your Yang?

-Just when I get my calves lookin' skirt-sexy, I break out in psoriasis on my lower legs....

-Just when Edie starts to nap regularly at her day care, I'm wondering if we should take away the nap to make bedtime a little easier....

-Just when I start to lose some weight with some good old-fashioned excercise, my pants don't fit me because I've developped what is known as a bubble butt....

-Just when I manage to juggle my schedule so I can be with Grace for her first day of SK, she tells me she would rather I didn't come....(I didn't know they could embarass so easily at 5 years old!)

-Right after we decide to shut the pool down for the season, we get hit with a heat wave....

-Social Distortion releases a greatest hits album, but they are only touring it in the West.

-Gracie's karate school is right beside Dairy Queen, she goes 4 days a week. I have been recently diagnosed with severe dairy intolerance. In the words of Grace herself, NOT FAIR!

-The two nights that neither Grace or Edie wake me up, I wake myself up with wicked nose bleeds....

Could be worse, it's not like we have kick ass plasma t.v. and football season has started...oh wait, NOT FAIR!

What the hell??? I finally get the kids to bed, fire up the 'puter, and Facebook is down! Oh my god, what did i used to do with my life between 9 and 10 at night before there was Facebook? I totally forget! Maybe I'll go dig up that husband I had kicking around somewhere....

On a sidenote, I'm soooooo disapointed that no one did my music questionnaire. C'mon, Christopher? Jannet? Jo? I kno fo shizzle that you guys read my shit....c'mon! Make momma proud!

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!)

oh, hi there God, I'm really sorry for that not so humble post the other day about how great my life is with my hunky husband, two cute girls and a kick ass pool. i totally understand why you had to take me down a notch or two by doing the following:

-given me a fever of 100 degrees with a brutal case of nausea (please, i hope you didn't plant any sperm in my eggies!)
-given my two girls stomach issues, which makes them almost as cranky as i
-made my two year old pull down my shirt at karate today to expose everyone to what i like to call my beige, "not lookin' for any" bra
-when treating the girls to some dairy queen tonight, on a busy patio, made my toilet-trianed oops no she isn't! two year pee in front of everyone. seriously, what is the appropriate way to deal with that? i'm hoping that throwing the remains of my lemon infused perrier water on it and running away was.

yup, lesson learned. i am humbled. please, just let up on me!

I'm never going back to work....EVER!

Why is my Blogger layout so f***ed up?

Poo-fingers

Edie is toilet training right now. She's actually doing fairly well, with a few accidents here and there (usually all over her and Grace's Polly Pockets for some reason). Anyhooo, early this morning (1 a.m.) there was a cry, it was Grace with a nightmare. Before going in to console her, I decided to empty my bladder in the girl's washroom. It was dark. I felt something squishy between my toes. I reached down with my fingers to further investigate (I was half asleep!) I brought my fingers up to my face to try and make out the squishy substance. Yup, you guessed it. Edie left a little Hershey kiss for me to find in the middle of the night. I had poo toe, poo fingers, a crying five year old, and husband who didn't wake up for any of it. Thank God there were clorox wipes nearby - I think I took exfoliation to a whole new level!
Even more worrisome is that when I related this take to a group of friends today, everyone had similar stories.

Sitting around eating bonbons

Ummmm, why do I go to work everyday?

Okay, this is the first day of the 3 weeks of holidays. Guess what I'm doing...pulling my hair out because the kids are driving me crazy? Nope. Racking my brain for a fun craft to do? Nope. Baking cookies? Nope. Give up? I'm surfing facebook and blogging, because Grace is at friends house and Edie is napping.

This. is. the. bomb. Ser.

Staying loco, I mean local

Jo just started a new job (private sector – he just isn’t a government kind of guy) so we won’t be taking any holidays this year. This is quite fine by me, I sort of like chilling around the house. However, I am faced with 3 weeks off, just me and the girls. For some reason, Grace and Edie don’t see the beauty in drinking coolers, reading trashy magazines and lounging by the pool all day. These kids are going to want some action. So, if anyone has any suggestions as to how I can entertain these guys, send me your suggestions. We love a good adventure, keeping in mind that one little adventurer still needs a nap in the afternoon.

the Exploited - dead cities

after my wussy elmo post, here's somethine to redeem myself....

You've won this round, Bratz
Grace is not a girly-girl. She rarely wears skirts, more rarely wears a dress, can’t stand pony tails or any other form of hair decoration. She has only a few times requested to have her nails painted and doesn’t show any interest in getting into my make-up. We have Barbies and dolls, but they are pushed aside for puzzles and building blocks. She was bored in ballet and is ecstatic that she can now do a round-house kick thanks to her dedication to karate. This all sits well with me. I want to raise girls who are confident, not image conscious and who don’t feel the need to fit into any one mold. For my part, I’ve stopped buying my beloved fashion magazines (and I hide my Star weekly) so they aren’t exposed to those unrealistic beauty expectations.

Imagine my chagrin this week when Grace started coming home with these weird drawings of girls. I asked her about them and she said she was tracing pictures of Bratz, and that she actually kind of likes Bratz now. I feel so let down! At the toy store, Grace and I would laugh and mock the row of Bratz, asking each other who would ever want to buy one! Well, now she’s mixing with the older girls in Grade 1 and I guess they are introducing her to all kinds of nonsense now. I will continue to boycott these dolls and refuse to buy her any licensed apparel with their name/logo on it. I’d like to roundhouse kick the makers of these icky, creepy slutty little dolls. They look like eight year old plastic surgery victims with their plumped up lips, bad hair extensions and clothes from Fredericks of Hollywood. What’s equally annoying about them is that every product from Bratz has a “z” at the end of it: they don’t have pets, they have petz. They don’t have babies, they have babiez.

I hope she gets over this fade quickly. I have to play my cards right, if I show her how much it bugs me, she’ll only want Bratz more.

Elmo and Andrea Bocelli

is it wierd that this brought tears to my eyes? i mean, c'mon, it's elmo for chrissakes, but it is one of the sweetest things i have ever heard/seen.

The Go-Go's

And I am outta here! Won't have time to post for awhile as I'll be chasing the rugrats around for the next week or so (god help us all). If you see a deranged woman running wild in the streets, it's probably me running from the kids! Have a great summer!

meh. i don't have much to say. i wish grace and edie could read and write...they have something to say from sun up to sun down, and then some. i used to think "mommy" was a beautiful word.....

grace was put under general aneasthetic (sp?) this weekend for some dental work - girlfriend had some MAJOR cleaning/filling in to do. i was a little worried that she'd come out with a grill like this - but they actually did a wonderful job and she has just two stainless steel caps on her teeth. $2800 - who knew? she did great - i could feel her little heart pounding, she was scared as they put the mask on her, (so was I for that matter) and she just drifted off to sleep. the crazy thing was that she was staring at me when she was sleeping. the nurse assured me that she was asleep, so i reluctantly left the room. it's so unnatural to see your child in an induced sleep. it must be weird for them to work on a patient with their eyes open - i wonder if they gently close them? the doctor said she'd be on the couch all day, early to bed, lacking energy. heh heh heh. right. he had no clue who he was talking about. she insisted that we run her that night to expend some of her energy. if you could see atoms, you would see a kajillion bouncing around miss. g

SHE'S VERRRRRRRRY OLD

OR

I'm tall-ish therefore I'm old-ish

Grace and I got into an argument tonight....a little more heated on my end than hers (I don't think she realized it was an argument). We were talking about my family, and talking about the order of ages of everyone in my family. It's obvious Nanny and Grandad are OLD because they have the "crinkles". My brother and I are apparently about the same age because we are about the same height (actually, he's got five years on me). The kicker was that I'm WAAAYYYY older than my sister (who is 10 years my senior, thank you very much) because I'm taller than her. Do you remember thinking this when you were little? That height = seniority? It totally brings me back to that time when short = young, tall = old, long hair = princess qualities, short hair = boy, pool - rich. Sadly, I also thought that friends with divorced parents = the luckiest kids on earth because they pretty much got to do whatever they wanted.
I'm going to pick Grace's brain a little bit more for these philosophies - I'm really curious to see the world again through a 5 year old's eyes.

THEN

NOW

HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED WHAT A MEANOLDMOMMY LOOKS LIKE?
Well, I'm pretty sure only 4 people read this blog (Thanks Chantal, Alison, Jo and Christopher); and two of you already know what I look like (God help you). Well, today at the doctor's office, I held the elevator door open for a man who was moving slowly, walking with with a cane. We exchanged pleasantries, and he then shyly remarked that I look a lot like Debbie Reynolds and "exude her warmth". Hmmm, that's a first, but I like it. I'm going to take this celebrity comparison over the last one I had - when "Leaving Las Vegas" first came out years ago, I would walk down the street and strangers would walk up to me and tell me how much I look like Elizabeth Shue
- yes, apparently I bore a striking resemblance to a down and out prostitute, and people seemed to think it was okay to excitedly point this out to me. Debbie Reynolds? I've come a long way baby!

This is Grace’s favourite band……

Well actually, she got it a little mixed up. I was eavesdropping on her having a heated discussion with her friend about their favourite songs and music. Keep in mind she is 5 and her friend is 6. Some tunes that were being thrown around were Itsy Bitsy Spider (“that‘s for babies”) and London Bridge (“it’s okay”). What was Grace’s offering? “SOCIAL DISTORTION IS THE BEST SONG IN THE WORLD!!!!” Well, their a band , kiddo not a song, but they are the best freaking band in the world and I just love the fact that something I like is rubbing off on her! I can’t wait to bring her to her first punk gig…..

Since I churned out two kids, I have been pretty lucky with my weight – I lost the weight quickly both times without too much effort and without much attention to my diet. I do run, and I do try to eat healthy, but I also sit on the couch and watch “America’s Next Top Model” and eat potato chips.
I’ve noticed lately that my jeans have felt a little tighter and a few little bumps here and there that I never had before. I hopped on the scale and sure enough, I have gained about ten pounds. I’m a little surprised because nothing has changed that drastically in my life style.
I was recently talking to a good friend of mine (who has three kids, the youngest being almost 4) about my weight gain and she gave me a knowing smile and said : “It’s getting easier, isn’t it?” She explained to me that she too started gaining weight after her littlest turned two and didn’t “need” her as much. This is so true. I used to carry Edie everywhere, all the time. It seems like I always had her in my arms, which was equal to lugging around a 30 pound weight all day long. And now, she doesn’t need me as much. She is an independent little girl who comes in for the occasional hug, but she certainly doesn’t want to be carried. I almost teared up yesterday on our walk when she was figuring out how to pedal her bike on her own. Soon she won’t even need me to push her on her trike.
Mother Nature’s a bitch - it seems like when she was needy, I yearned for her to be more independent.; now that she is cutting the cord a bit, I just want to shove her back in her BabyBjorn to keep her nice and safe (and burn a few calories to boot!)

Do you remember Dr. Laura Schlessinger? I used to listen to her just so I could feel my stomach burn with outrage (weird, eh).

The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by an East Coast resident which I stumbled upon. It's great stuff.

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15 :19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your devoted fan,
Moishe

DAMN YOU FACEBOOK!!!!
I'm sure I'll get over the novelty of it soon, but all my free computer time seems to be devoted to the crackbook. I have so many friends (not really); I'm making so many dates for things that will never happen ("we have to get together to catch up, really!"; and I know what lots of people are doing at all hours of the day. Very important information people!
So, for the LEGIONS of people who read this blog, I apologize. Hopefully, I'll return to my witty, insightful postings soon.

Oh, this is cool, my brother's store in Toronto was mentioned in this very popular design blog - check it out

just a quickie...

I rushed Grace through her bath tonight due to my inevitable case of Sens Fever. She was quite indignant about being hurried, and said: "Now my hair is going to have knots, you forgot to put the air conditioning in" - how hard was it to keep a straight face with that one!

Who knew we were raising a 'lil French Canadian!

Soapbox....

I work outside of the home. I really like to work, I find it incredibly rewarding, most of the time. I work a four day week, and save Fridays to hang out with the girls. This seems to work for everyone. At then end of the year for both of my maternity leaves I was antsy, bored, a little cranky and I knew that even though our little family could survive on Jo's income, I could not survive being a stay-at-home Mom. I know people have strong opinions on this issue. My opinion is that you do what works for you and your loved ones.

Last week my colleague and I organized art work shops at Grace's school for Education Week. We did Grace's class (JK) and a grade 2 class. It was great, the kids loved, I loved it, and we will be displaying their hard work next week at an art exhibit. Yay us!

Here comes the rant.

One of the volunteer parents asked me if I worked outside of the home. I told her I did. She then said "It must be so hard for you to relate to chidren". Huh? I told her not really, I have two of my own. She then said "Oh, but still, it's different". O-kay. I went on my merry way to work with the kids. I then noticed this same woman with a little girl who was crying. She was crying because she didn't like how her art work was turning out. Turns out this little girl is the snarley woman's daughter. The picture was fine; I pointed out all the lovely things about and tried to cheer her up. The woman then seethed/snarled at me (in front of her daugher) that this was bound to happen - a child in tears because it wasn't an appropriate work shop to run for the children of this age. I'm pretty sure she then went to the bathroom, pooped, and it came out smelling like roses.

Y'know what, only one kid ended up in tears, all the other kids seemed to genuinely enjoy themselves.

Women like her once had the power to make me feel guilty for my decision to work outside of the home, but no more - I just wish women could chill on each other a little bit instead of being such bitches to each other. It doesn't get us anywhere.

Bad day at work.....this is what I feel like doing tonight (the dancing part!)

NOBODY can say M*ther F*cker like Samuel L Jackson!

Would you touch this man’s art?

Me neither. But Edie had no problem touching, picking at and pretty much trying to alter a massive Jean-Paul Riopelle hanging at the National Gallery of Canada. Jo and I brought the girls to the Ron Mueck exhibit on Sunday and Edie apparently thought the items at the gallery were meant to be interactive. Luckily, security didn’t spot her fondling the piece of art and we made our escape, and Edie has a chunk of a famous piece of art work under her finger nails.

I’m going to be a little bit embarrassed picking up the kids today – they are so freaking filthy it’s not even funny. With the high winds yesterday and hours spend at the park, they looked like little sand people. Yesterday afternoon, I was sort of chill with them and let them roll around the sand as much as they wanted, figuring that I’d just throw them in the bath before bed. Well, adventure of all adventures, the power went out! Yippee! Candles were lit, walks outside in the wind were taken, but no bath was to be had. Oh well, you know what they say, a speck of dirt…..

Edie made her first complete sentence last night, it went something like this: “CC (Gracie) hit me.” Look out Grace, the witness can talk now….

I Heart Stay at Home Mom’s

Thursday night I got sick. Sore throat, fever, chills – the whole she-bang. I don’t work on Fridays, Friday is my stay at home day to hang out with the girls (well, actually, usually just Edie – most Fridays Grace chooses to go to her day care). Friday morning I felt like crap. I could have send Edie to day care and nursed my cold, but I hate to sacrifice that special time.
That got me thinking. Stay at home mom’s don’t have the option to a) send their kids to day-care if they want or b) go to the office because often it is less intense there than it is to stay at home. Friday was hard, I really just wanted to curl up and die, but Edie just didn’t get that and wasn’t terribly sympathetic to my complaints.
I got through the day, but it really makes me admire my stay at home sisters who have to keep it together for their little ones on those not so great days. And to be honest, next time I feel that lousy, I will most likely take the day care option and curl up on the couch with a movie and feel sorry for myself solo.

Memo to Edie’s tooth

It’s time we had a talk. Everyone says my obsession with you is a little crazy, but I just don’t understand why you won’t come out and meet us. Edie could use your help when trying to chew her food. I know you are there. I see you when I make Edie open her mouth so I can monitor your progression; I feel you when I stick my finger in Edie’s mouth and probe for your whereabouts; I have been hearing you when Edie has been crying out at 2:00 in the morning due to the discomfort you cause. I taste you – actually, no I don’t, that’s just gross.

Anyways Tooth, you have been threatening to come out since December, you keep teasing us with your trips to the surface of Edie’s gum line, only to retreat just when we think are finally going to come out. Edie should have a full grill by now and focusing on being the best damn two year old around instead of waiting around for you. C’mon Tooth, you’re going to fall out in a couple years anyhow, why not make the most of your time in Edie’s mouth? A lot of your other friends have already come out, and I think they are having a good time! The central incisors are firmly planted, the molars have already beat you out, your twin on the left joined us a long time ago, so why oh why do you insist on dragging this out? Are you scared? Don’t be! Just because sand and my very expensive face cream are just two of the unusual things that Edie puts in her mouth, we always brush your friends at the end of the day to get rid of anything that might compromise their whiteness.

Edie’s Grandfather (a retired dentist) tells me to chillax (my word, not his). I guess I should, but in my world everything has a place, and Tooth, you’re just not following the rules!

Mundane…..


Something very sad is happening on my calendar – it is filling up quickly, but look at what it is filling up with:

-Party lite party
-Cooking party
-fund raiser for a friends kids’ nursery school
-volunteer day at Grace’s school
-sign grace up for soccer

Christ, I sound like a 34 year old mini-van driving suburban house wife! Oh, wait, that’s exactly what I am.

Not much going on over at meanoldmommy’s house…I guess we are all suffering from the lack of sunshine, it’s getting kind of creepy (anyone seen Children of Men?)
I don’t have much to say. Kids haven’t done anything extra-cute or extra-naughty in a while; Jo hasn’t done anything extra-cute or anything extra-naughty in a few days (heh heh) . I guess it’s nice to have a few quiet days after my drunk as a skunk night out last week.


Here, read these, they are much more interesting and/or funny than I am right now:

www.socialitelife.com GOSSIP!

http://truemomconfessions.blogspot.com/ ahhh, other mom’s who think it’s okay to not share their candy with their kids

http://truehusbandconfessions.blogspot.com/ could make you a little paranoid

http://truewifeconfessions.blogspot.com/ could make you a little sad