cool beans

And the women gathered...

2010-09-02T10:29:00.003-06:00

I am officially in my 'due' month. What a great time of year to have a baby, September just oozes new beginnings, beautiful changes, and a sense of settling, snuggling into routine. Even though I am much past my school attending years, I love the smell of early September mornings. Crisp, bright, cool yet warm in the lingering sunshine of summer.. aahhhh the smell of new school supplies and new adventures. (Yes, I was one of those weird people that liked school).

This September will mark a very significant change in our lives, the welcoming of a new babe into our family. I couldn't think of a better way to start off the month than by preparing to be blessed to my core at my upcoming Mother Blessing. This weekend, the women who are the most significant to me will gather, surrounding me with their love and blessings, and I just can't wait!

Today, my Mom and Sister will begin the long (11 hr) drive to attend the Blessing and stay for the weekend. I am so grateful that they are making the trek to join in on the celebration as it would not be the same without them.

Its kind of fun to imagine they are journeying like the woman would have back in the ancient days. Packing their vehicles (horses, donkeys, caravans... dodge caravan to be exact) with all the supplies (40lbs of juicy, Okanagan peaches to can and jam!) that a mom-to-be would need.

Preparing to take over her home with their nurturing and love.

What a great way to welcome in this birth month then by feeding our belly's and souls, wrapping ourselves in love, laughter, and late nights.

Whoa, nesting!

2010-08-18T10:06:00.002-06:00

There is only approximately 5 weeks left for lil'sprout to grow and the tsunami of nesting has hit full force. I have been knocked to my knees by the its intensity and overwhelming sensation. I didn't experience this as deeply when I was pregnant with The Child, if anything.. I made myself nest, thinking it would help bring on labor.

This time? This time I feeeeeeeeel it.

The intensity is so great that it brings me to tears.

As I look around my house, tallying up the multiple things that need to be done, the cupboards that need to be cleaned, the piles of randomness that need organizing, the baby things that are needed, the laundry that must be washed, the windows that are dingy, the garden that requires tending... I am exhausted and I haven't even begun. It's the overwhelming need to be done everything, for everything to be in its place, spic and span, and it brings me to my knees.

In that place is where I realize the massive change that is creeping upon us. In a moment, it will never be us three again. It will be as if we have always been a family of four and its a bitter-sweet realization. Perhaps in those moments of having to let go of all the 'physical' tasks that I feel need to be done, I am also beginning to let go of what this family has been, slowly opening up to what it will be. That being said, I am still deeply holding on, frantically grasping for each delicious moment before we are changed forever.

The foundation that we have been living on is beginning to rumble, preparing for the massive shift of birth of this babe to take place. The rumblings are soft at the moment, but soon they will be hard to ignore. The call will come, the time will be just right, and I will have to lay everything down to complete the journey to greet my little one.

For this moment, I am going to just breathe... and fold some laundry.

It's going to be OK, Mom.

2010-07-28T12:05:00.003-06:00

Have you ever had a moment with your child where you stop, look at them, and think... "Who are you?! How did you become this little person? When did you get to be so wise?"

I was standing in my kitchen the other evening, slightly upset (ok, maybe a lot upset... I do have an abnormal amount of hormones coursing through my veins) at The Husband as he had last minute decided to hang out with a buddy. I was not coping well with the spontaneous change of plans. Normally... when I am functioning on a normal level of estrogen (damn pregnancy), something like this would not be an issue for me. Fundamentally, its so important for us as individuals to get out and be with other adults, in a normal social setting. It is good for the soul, and only benefits your relationship with your spouse and children.

But this night? This night it felt like the end of the world.

As I stood in my kitchen, trying to put myself back together, mopping myself up off the floor.. if you will.... my son... my 4yr old son, stood there and rationalized with me.

"Mom. Its going to be ok. Dad said he's just going over to his friend's house to have a quick beer and then he's coming right back." He said this so matter-of-factly.. hand gestures included.

I let out a big, child-like sigh and replied "But he won't be right back, he'll probably be there for awhile"

"But Daddy said.. he's just going to his friend's to have a quick beer and he'll be right back. Its going to be ok, Mom".

SERIOUSLY. Where did this kid come from?

We must have stood there for about 10 minutes, I acting like the 4yr old child, and him.. the adult. Calming me down and reasoning with me. Then he walked over and gave me a big leg hug and said, "You can't be mad at Dad, he's my best friend. The best person in the whole world."

There went MY pity party. How can you reason with that? I was completely unable to be upset any longer. Ok, maybe I was still a bit disappointed, but I realized that this moment was not about me anymore.

So with lots of loving words and some yummy dinner, The Child and I continued on with our evening. This next baby is going to absolutely spoiled with the best big brother anyone could ask for.

Out of the Mouths of Moms!

2010-06-03T20:05:00.003-06:00

Its true! The things that we say to our children are probably more comedic than what they say to us. Or at least it's a close tie! Mckmama (the creator of Not Me Monday!) has recognized the absolute hilarity of what us Mommies say on a daily basis, and decided its time to share.

"No, Spiderman doesn't live in Edmonton. He's not here, that's why you can't see him. He's just a pretend person in a comic book. I suppose he could live in Spiderman Land. No, I don't know where that is."

"You'll have to ask Grandma where Mommy came from. Where did you come from? You came from a lot of love. Sure, and poop and monsters."

"Well, when we die we're gone forever. I suppose we go up up up to the sky, really high. No one really knows for sure. I'm sure you'll still have your arms and legs if you're in the sky. Or, yes, you could just be a head, too. No, you can't come and visit me once you die. You might be able to see me. Ok, I suppose you can visit me if you're a ghost. I honestly don't know, sweetie."

(This was a very disturbing conversation, but one that I'm sure every child has. Just hard to talk about your child being 'died').

"You won't ever have boobies like Mommy. Only girls grow boobies. No, you won't turn into a girl. You're a boy and will always be a boy. Yes, because you have a penis. No, I don't have one."

"Mommy sent all the monsters back to Monster Island. No, they're not in your room. They're not allowed. No, I won't let them in my room. Ok, fine, just the nice monsters. Go to sleep. Yes, I'll see you in the morning for breakfast. Don't worry, I won't bump into people."

Fabulously Four!!!

2010-05-06T09:37:00.004-06:00

Somebody special turns a big 4 today!

Beginning our fabulous journey through the 4th year, I found it only fitting to start with chocolate chip pancakes.

Apparently, they are only a semi-hit, as The Child only had 1! Seriously, who only eats 1?! I even had 2... silly kid. Guess he's saving his sugar reserves for later.

I love birthdays, especially my own, but my child's birthday bring such a different feeling for me. My own birthday is one of excitement, anticipation and hope, while his brings all of those things as well as reflection. I treasure the time to reflect not only on his life so far, but how I have changed as a person, a wife, a mother.

Children are mirrors, they show us ourselves, the ugly and the beautiful.

Every one of his birthdays causes me to pause and remember the moment that I passed through the very sacred rite of passage of maiden to motherhood. My own death and transformation, daily being broken and humbled, yet healed at the same time. I know this next year is going to be one of much growth, and with grace, love, and hopefully some newly discovered patience, we will walk each step.

First step? Getting all the treat bags loaded into the car for a very special 4 year olds party.

Hello mayhem.

Growth

2010-05-04T19:00:00.005-06:00

I've been noticing a lot of growth happening around me. Its a beautiful (sometimes stretching) thing to be surrounded with. The most tangible growth that is before me are my little babies. My seedlings. This is the first time that I have attempted to start my vegetable seeds indoors. Usually I just plant them directly into the garden after the last frost (hello beginning of June...).

This year I wanted to be able to plant some veggies that I don't normally plant, veggies that require being started early as our summer season is so dang short. Its been a lot of fun watching the little sprouts grow, grow, grow... soon becoming too big for their little britches and requiring new homes (pots).

I am sure you are all so impressed with my gardening skills. "Wow, what a green thumb!" you must be thinking. Before you start to feel all guilty about the lack of anything growing in your garden, (or maybe your garden kicks my gardens ass) please know... I have no CLUE what I am doing. I'm sure you've heard the saying "Fly by the seat of your pants".

That's my gardening motto.

All that being said, even though I have very limited knowledge on gardening (it can be very overwhelming!), it is so VERY rewarding to see the fruits (and veggies!) of my labor.

I've noticed another little sprout becoming a bit big for his britches. That would be my wonderful son. Very soon, the not so little guy will be 4.

4 years old.

A dear friend and fellow blogger has told me that it is not the "Terrible Twos" rather its the "F#cking Fours".

Fabulous.

If the "F#cking Fours" comes with a whole pile of defiance, excuses, "But, Mom, I just...", an unnatural obsession with Hide 'n Seek, and flailing temper tantrums... I think we've hit it. Not that I want to speak such an awful phrase over my child, and I really hope he proves it wrong, but I guess, I'm just being honest. His next year of growth is going to be a stretching one, for me and him. Grace. I choose to focus on that word this coming year.

The last but definitely not least area of growth that I am witnessing in my life would be myself. My belly to be exact. No, I didn't over indulge in an extra large dinner. We are welcoming a new little sprout to the family! Well, we've been welcoming it for the last 19wks to be exact! This is my first official world wide web announcement of the little sprout. I've actually really enjoyed the anonymity of not announcing it to the entire world of the internet. Sometimes I feel like our lives are so easily on display, I really enjoyed keeping this special secret to myself. Don't get me wrong.. lots of people know! But its been much more fun telling them in person and letting the preverbal grapevine do its work then announcing it on Facebook. Part of me toyed with the idea of never making a world wide web announcement, but its getting harder and harder to not talk about the lil'sprout the more it grows. This pregnancy has been very easy for me, so easy that I would easily forget. Now that the belly is growing, its harder to forget, and there is a joy that comes while talking about it. I also realized that in my need to keep this journey close to my heart, I have no pictures or documentation of the journey. What a difference from the first time!!

So here, with out further ado, is the very first belly picture of Sprout:

Yes, I am definitely surrounded by growth. In and around me. I am constantly amazed at how life works, bends and shifts, curves and moves. Beautiful, really.

Double, Double Toil and Trouble; Fire Burn and Caldron Bubble

2010-04-16T09:10:00.005-06:00

Do you ever have one of 'those' mornings? You know, when Super Mommy is completely non-existent. Rather, her evil, grumpy, short-tempered, horned twin has taken her place?

Its not like we as women even really have a choice as to when the evil twin arises, she just does. One day we feel like Super Mommy, the next... we're pure evil.

My evil twin reared her ugly face this morning. As I sit here, with my cup of desperately needed coffee, trying to drown her away and figure out what happened before 9am to call the Evil One to the surface. Are there specific reasons as to why we can't be Super Mommy all the time? Why does it seem like we just don't have a choice? Looking deep into my morning thus far, there are a few common denominators as to what brings out the Evil One. Its like a secret potion recipe, mix all together and.... *poof*... she appears!

Combine going to bed ridiculously late with a toddler climbing into your bed a few hours later, this guarantees a crappy sleep. Add on to that, an early sunrise and an equally early rising child.... can you see the mixture in the caldron turning an ugly green yet?

Next throw in the whiney, whimpering, crying voice of the child who's very first words are "Mooommmmm.... I want to play computer gaaaaammmeees.... nowwwww..", along with a few swift kicks to my back as he decides that's the best way to gain my attention. Which of course, we all know what happens when you say NO to the whiney, whimpery voice of a 3yr old.

Meltdown.

All within the very first moments of being shocked out of dreamland and forced into reality.

The potion mixture is officially brown, smelly, and slowly starting to bubble.

The next thing to add are the strong threats and negotiations to stop said 3yr old from blowing up into his own evil twin. He decides to leave and I'm back asleep before I even allow myself to think realistically what it means to have a toddler loose in the house.

A few dashes of a pooping child are the next thing to throw into the mix. Thankfully, he is independent enough to do this on the toilet by himself. With some yelling of instructions from 'sleeping' me. Sure enough, I stumble out of bed to do the official bum wipe. Nothing says "Your day is going to be AWESOME!" when the first actually physical activity you complete is wiping someone else's poopy bum. Yes.

The mixture is staying at a low bubble, still smelly and brown, but has been held off by a content child in front of cartoons. This should buy me some time, and the ability to start over.

This moment doesn't last long enough before the hungry, ravenous child demands breakfast and for you to GET UP. Fine. This is not the only thing he demands. Every single morning, he asks if I am going to put my hair up. Yes, of course I am, I do every morning. Its in my face, all full of sleep static, its going up. Another meltdown begins.

The mixture is now black and at a full, rolling boil.

Pull it together kid, I put my hair up everyday! Do you not have any memory of this? Do we have to deal with this EVERY SINGLE DAY?!?! Do you NEED to be on the floor, flopping around, crying? Do you WANT to go back to bed? I sure as hell do! GAH! Its JUST HAIR and its MINE! So deal with it!

(Note: When Super Mommy is around, she explains in a sweet, understanding voice why she likes her hair up. And then using the skills of distraction, draws the child's attention to something else. The Evil One? Likes to argue.)

A few more whiney demands and ridiculous questions... 'hold my hand, carry me, give me a hug... why is that blue, why is it morning, where's daddy'... that's all the mixture needs...

*POOF*

The EVIL ONE is in full force.

I don't think I need to go into how breakfast went down... it wasn't pretty.

Now that I have a few moments to myself, coffee is consumed, the Evil One has slowly shrunken back down, replaced by Normal Mommy. We're not quite yet at Super status... and perhaps we won't even get there today, I'm happy with Normal.

Perhaps after reading this you're thinking, by golly, you should have been at MY house this morning, it was SO MUCH WORSE. Yup, it probably was. Looking back, things could be so much worse and I probably do have it easy. But each and everyone of us have a different tolerance level that fluctuates from day to day. Something that appears to you as 'easy' may just be the tipping point for me... and vise versa.

As Mothers I think this is one of the hardest things to recognize within ourselves... that we are only human. We can't have it all together, every single moment of the day, as much as we want or desire to (or expect ourselves to!). Being a Mother comes with needing a lot of grace and gentleness for ourselves. Each day we are growing as a person, stretching, learning, changing and this process reveals itself differently in each moment. Plus, it doesn't help that our children are little mirrors.. revealing to us our TRUE selves, the parts we don't always want to see. By just knowing that there will be moments when I will get it 'just right' and other moments that are 'epic fails', I can allow myself the grace and self-love to move through those moments. For that is all they are. Moments. Soon they are over and a new one arises, so what am I going to do with the new moment? Perhaps the Evil One is still there in the new moment, and for the next few moments, but I know she cannot last forever. Her life span is short, soon Normal Mommy will take over, breathing new life into the situation, allowing for more light and love to be present. Perhaps we might even see a glimpse of Super Mommy... in an extra hug, or a crafty craft, or the building of a fort in the basement. Those are good moments, but it is also impossible to live constantly as Super Mommy. Normal Mommy is much more...well... Normal. She has her good moments, she has her bad.. but she is the easiest to live with. She is the one that I am learning to love the most.

Wordless Wednesday- The *Duck Hunt

2010-04-14T09:04:00.005-06:00

The Child and his older cousin going on a "Duck Hunt"

with their Papa. I think this was the best day of their lives.

*In our world, "Duck" is another name for Geese.... apparently.

Not Me Monday- Returns!

2010-03-15T09:09:00.003-06:00

Its been a while since I've done a "Not Me Monday", heck, its been awhile since I've written much of anything. Really, there hasn't been much of a need to write a NMM. The Child has been fairly normal lately, besides the odd meltdown, and driving me crazy with 100 questions every minute (does that EVER end?!?!). But the other day included some moments that I just knew I would be writing about come Monday.

While rushing to get The Child strapped into his carseat (we of course are never late, never needing to rush), we were discussing the difference between Mommy's "angry" voice and "firm" voice, complete with examples. Mommy's "angry" voice sounds like this..... Mommy's "firm" voice sounds like this.... can you tell the difference? Just because I'm firm with you, doesn't mean I'm angry (It just means to get your little bottom over here!!). As we are in the middle of this slightly intense discussion, I did not go to tighten his carseat straps (the ones down his front) and my hand did not totally slip. This did not result in me completely punching The Child in the nose. This is what Mommy's angry voice sounds like.... complete with facial bruises. Nope, not me.

The very same day, after we came home from wherever we were (not Mcdonald's with a PlayPlace, I would never feed my child Mcdonald's), I was determined to have some quiet time. Yes, me. I needed quiet time. Which means, The Child would also be confined to his room. Quiet time is slowly dissipating from my house, which is so sad to me. On a good day, I can get about 20mins out of the kid. This specific day, I needed much longer. After not yelling a string of threats to get him to stay in his room, it was finally quiet. Slowly, I dozed off into dreamland, oh glorious nap time.

Only to be woken a few minutes later with, "Mom! I can't open the door! My hands are dirty!"

Awesome.

My first thought was that there is really nothing in his room that he could get into, so I had no idea what he was talking about. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of my deep slumber, my beautiful nap, my glorious bed, to see what the deal was. Upon opening his door, I was not hit with the overpowering scent of "Vick's Vapor Rub".

"What did you do?" I did not ask very very firmly.

"I was just trying to put the medicine in the cup" he replied

And try to put the "medicine" in the cup he did. Of course, I would never be so irresponsible to leave a jar of "Vick's Vapor Rub" in my child's room. He did not have it smeared all over his shirt, pants, a few books, bed, door and walls. Its hard enough trying to get that stuff off your hands, let alone every other known surface to man. You think I would have given up on my chance at a nap by this point. Of course I am the kind of Mother that would understand my child's need for some interaction at this point. A good Mother would paint, dance, sing, or go for a walk with her child, having a lively discussion about their day so far. Maybe even practicing the alphabet for good measure. A good Mother would never put her child in front of the TV so she could complete her chance at a nap. I of course, am a good Mother, never using TV as a babysitter. Nope, not me!

Harbor

2010-02-24T16:05:00.007-07:00

Oh boy. It has been almost a month since I blogged! First of all, I can't believe how fast this year is going so far, it's unreal. This may have to do with the craziness that our lives have been lately. I have had many a moment where a fabulous blog idea has entered my brain, and suddenly life picks up and any hopes that I had to sit down and type, are gone.

I know my readers are few and seeming that I am lacking in the blog scene, I'm sure my Faithful Few have dwindled down to one (Hi Mom!).

Today, really, I don't have much to say. Life is busy, but its normal, boring, mundane stuff, that I really don't have the energy to re-live by typing it all out. But I do want to share something with you. Something that is causing me to chew on, really digest and settle into my bones. I am currently in the process of reading "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. If you have not had the chance to read this, I highly recommend it. An inspirational and honest book, one that is easy to pick up, catch a few chapters and put down for a couple days to tend to life. The most recent thing I read has struck a cord so deep, it is so beautifully written, that I just HAD to share it with you.

Please read, and re-read, and read again, fully understanding this beautiful metaphor.

"So I've started being vigilant about watching my thoughts all day, and monitoring them. I repeat this vow about 700 times a day: 'I will not harbor unhealthy thoughts anymore.' Every time a diminishing thought arises, I repeat the vow. I will not harbor unhealthy thoughts anymore. The first time I heard myself say this, my inner ear perked up at the word 'harbor', which is a noun as well as a verb. A harbor, of course, is a place of refuge, a port of entry. I pictured the harbor of my mind--a little beat-up, perhaps, a little storm-worn, but well situated and with nice depth. The harbor of my mind is an open bay, the only access to the island of my Self (which is a young and volcanic island, yes, but fertile and promising). This island has been through some wars, it is true, but it is now committed to peace, under a new leader (me) who has instituted new policies to protect the place. And now--let the word go out across the seven seas--there are much, much stricter laws on the books about who may enter this harbor.

You may not come here anymore with your hard and abusive thoughts, with your plague ships of thoughts, with your slave ships of thoughts, with your warships of thoughts--all these will be turned away. Likewise, any thoughts that are filled with angry or starving exiles, with malcontents and pamphleteers, mutineers and violent assassins, desperate prostitutes, pimps and seditious stowaways--you may not come here anymore, either. Cannibalistic thoughts, for obvious reasons, will no longer be received. Even missionaries will be screened carefully, for sincerity. This is a peaceful harbor, the entryway to a fine and proud island that is only now beginning to cultivate tranquillity. If you can abide by these new laws, my dear thoughts, then you are welcome in my mind--otherwise, I shall turn you all back toward the sea from whence you came.

That is my mission, and it will never end."

pg.178/179 Eat Love Pray, Elizabeth Gilbert

Sauce

2010-01-25T10:02:00.003-07:00

Last night was a typical night of parenthood. The Child had some sort of stomach bug and decided to expel as much of it as possible. Then he couldn't decide which bed to sleep in and absolutely needed a sip of water every hour on the hour. Needless to say, sleep was minimal, but the snuggles and deep snores (when he was sleeping) of a sick babe are precious to me. So are the random conversations that happen in the middle of the night.

The Child was laying in my bed, awake, a bit chatty, but we were drifting to sleep. Suddenly he told me he pooped his pants.

GREAT. (those moments are not so special).

I leaned over for a sniff and sure enough, off to the bathroom we went.

It was not much more than a smear, a shart if you will. Sitting on the potty we began the discussion of what had just happened in the underworld of his pull-up.

Me: Sweetie, don't feel bad. Did it just feel like a toot, but poo came out too?

Child: Poo came out too. That's ok.

Me: Yah, that's ok. Sometimes it happens.

Child: I tooted and then sweeeeeeshhhhhhhh out came some sauce.

Me: Uh huh.... I guess it could feel like sauce.

Child: It was a saucy poo. I tooted and I had a saucy poo.

Me: Nice. Thank you for sharing.

Even at 2am when all I want to do is sleep, I still love moments like these. These moments erase everything else, the thoughts of how much laundry is covered in expelled stomach contents, the thoughts of how little sleep we are both getting, and the thoughts of canceling the following days events. In these moments of pure toddler genius, I am grateful that I can laugh and love deeply. Do not misunderstand, there were moments of yelling as well, when I just couldn't bare to crawl out of bed for one more sip of water. What kind of night would it be if it didn't include barf, poo, laughing, snuggling, crying and yelling?

I think those things could sum up parenthood, in no particular order.

Lady Business

2010-01-11T13:34:00.004-07:00

I have returned from the great, deep unknown of Holidays and Christmas. A few times I have tried to re-enter into the normal world, the world of routine and 50% off Christmas decorations, only to realize that its much more fun to stay snuggled under a blanket, obliviously watching way too much tv. Seeming that it is almost the middle of January, I figured I should start being responsible or something. Half of the Christmas decorations that my wonderful husband put up, have come down. The other half are outside, and its too cold to do much about that. Slowly but surely we are embracing the new year, hitting the gym, sorting out our schedule, our goals, our budget (barf), doing all those grand things you do in January. Our Holidays were joyful, slightly overwhelming but relaxing, and just long enough to appreciate our own house/beds upon return.

During the madness that is December, I was just busy enough to forget to do some feminine grooming. Taking care of my lady business, if you catch my drift. Generally, I am quite on top of such things, scheduling a routine wax appointment, (Yes, I am one of those women. Yes it hurts. Yes it's worth it) but since it is winter, top of my list it was not.

The Child, whom is wonderfully observant and extra chatty lately, was in the bathroom with me on that fateful day. We were taking a pee break from whatever we were doing. Visiting and eating Christmas baking at somebody's house I am sure. After he went to the bathroom, I took my turn. He is often quite distracted when I am in the bathroom with him. Washing his hands, or trying to unlock the door, or dancing and playing around. This time his eyes were on me.

The Child: "Mommy!"

Me: "Yes?!"

The Child: "Your vagina has a mustache!!!"

Me: "Uhhhh...I suppose it does.*slightly embarrassed and trying not to laugh* Thank you for pointing that out".

As we washed our hands and returned to whatever it was that we were doing, I made a mental note to schedule that routine appointment and take care of my lady business.

Ladies should not have mustaches.

Snow Angel

2009-12-14T17:15:00.001-07:00

2009-12-07T14:36:00.003-07:00

Not Me Monday is one of my favorite blog topics for a number of reasons. What a great chance to be absolutely real and to relax into this crazy dance of life, parenthood and relationships. The burden in the Mothering world to always be perfect is very suffocating.

Its like going out to a fancy dinner wearing your skinniest jeans, barely breathing or moving all night. Thinking only about how amazing it will feel to get home, peel off those ridiculous jeans and let all your mommy muffin-top hang out in some big ol' sweats.

Not Me Monday is a pair of big ol'comfy sweats to me. Even though a week may go by that I think, wow, I don't think much happened this week to write about. If I just sit with that thought for a moment or two, flashes of the past week and all the 'oops' and 'oh shits' come flooding back. It is absolutely freeing to not only laugh about them, but to also share them with you, my Faithful Few, knowing that you are identifying and laughing too.

This week seemed to be the epic battle of the wills between The Child and I. I feel tense now, just thinking about it. There seems to be only a certain amount of time that your child can "talk back" and yell "NO!" to everything you say, before you as a human being (with feelings) begin crumbling. All I want as a Mom is to have him respond "Ok, Mommy."

Really, is that so hard to ask for?

Even if he didn't do what I wanted, to at least have him obey with his words would be so validating.

During such epic battle this past week, it seemed I desperately required a time of retreat (can we say "Quiet Time"?!?!) Unfortunately, The Child decided that Quiet Time would be his opportunity to create the most damage. To secretly plan his next move of attack. At one point I walked into his room during Quiet Time to discover him on the floor (he's supposed to be in bed, with books) with his lamp, that was turned on, NOT stuffing it full of kleenexes.

Apparently he planned to burn the entire house down.

A small amount of time later I heard more interesting noises coming from his room, and decided it would be wise to sneak up on the enemy. I opened the door to not find him on the floor again with his lamp, this time it was smashed into a bazillion, razor sharp pieces.

Oh Goodness!!!

I tried so hard to NOT think about what could, would, should have happened if I hadn't walked in at that exact moment. I'm thinking he did not pull the lamp cord, causing it to fall and smash against the side of his bed. I did not then proceed to scold him for a very long time while cleaning up the glass. Part of me was not extra sad to say goodbye to the lamp that he's had since before he was born. I did not find myself just a bit extra mad or frustrated as this whole thing was going down in his room, I was trying to nap. What kind of mother would nap when she knew her child was awake? Not me!

I did not put him in time out and tell him to not move until I came back. During said time-out I would never take a shower, making his time in the chair not around the 25min mark. Nope, not me!

Since this week was one of epic battles, I was not looking so forward to a double-date night with our neighbors on Saturday. Minutes before the babysitter was scheduled to arrive I did not notice how disgusting my toilets were. It was like my eyes were opened to what the outside world would see.... a brown, disgusting film.

EW.

It was not me madly scrubbing all ~~three~~ toilets in the house, scolding myself for not noticing sooner and how could I possibly be out of toilet cleaner, too? Nope, not me!

All I Want for Christmas.....

2009-12-05T14:29:00.004-07:00

...Is to be able to pull out of my driveway, onto the street.

It only takes 3 or 4 neighborly men, 2 snow blowers, and a shovel to get the job done.

*Yes. I am the kind of woman who supports her man from inside the warm, cozy house.

The kind of woman who takes pictures through the front window to avoid the bitter wind and snow.

That's true love, I tell ya!

Bootylicious

2009-12-02T11:23:00.004-07:00

The few years that I spent in a public high-school, I was never allowed to attend the dances. At the time I felt much like the odd one out, but thankfully my friends never held it against me and I was never ousted. But there is a deep need in every person to dance. Even when you think you are unable to bust a move, and are incapable of keeping a beat, you still will try... especially when you think know one is looking. Those moments are so perfect as you are being completely, wholly, truly yourself.

Since I was deprived of this venue as a teenager, I have made up for it quite a bit as an adult. Ok, yes I was allowed, encouraged ~~guilted~~ to dance in church. But really... you just can't 'get down' and shake your groove thang when your trying so hard to abstain from any appearance of evil. It is a completely different type of dancing you do in church, a good kind, a random shuffling of the feet, waving of the hands, and maybe some jumping or leaping. But sometimes a girl's just gotta get down. Feel the beat and shake her booootay.

All this to say.... I love going dancing. Blast that Brittany and Beyonce and let me work it out. I am not looking for anything else but a good beat with some great girlfriends and a fun night of breaking it down.

Although, I have encountered some weird things in this world of dark, sticky, sweaty, groovin' clubs. Most of those weird, yet absolutely hilarious, things come in the form of people, boys to be exact. Do you love to people watch? Hit the club. Its the best thing since Walmart.

This past weekend I took a little road trip to celebrate a dear friends birthday. After dinner, drinks and some fooseball we decided to do a little dance dance dance. The club we were at had a great atmosphere with a wide variety of people. Those kind are my favorite as they will always hold a random experience or two... and some fairly bizarre people.

Like the dude behind us who thought he was on top of the world as he played the "Air Bass Guitar" the entire night long. He probably could be a great bass player, if he actually had a guitar. You know all the ladies come a runnin' when you break out the air instruments.

Or the random dude (sporting a creepy mustache in support of 'Movember') who ran his hand through the back of my hair, then walked by and told me I have beautiful hair. Uhhhhhmmmm.... ok.

My favorite are the girls who've had just enough drinks to let go of just enough inhibitions and lose all sense of personal space. Yes. I love how you dance with your elbow banging me in the back of the head.

But then who am I to judge as I may or may not have broke out into the "Running Man" and other various old school rap dance moves (circa Fresh Prince of Belair) at some point in the evening. Like I said, sometimes a girl's just gotta break it down.

Not Me Monday

2009-11-30T12:00:00.001-07:00

I missed this week, but check out one of my favorite Mommy bloggers who just tried her hand at it.

I'm pretty much in love with her story.

I Spy With My Little Eye....

2009-11-23T12:53:00.005-07:00

While we were away and The Husband cleaned, organized and Christmas decorated, he moved our small, ancient TV from the main living room to our bedroom. Yes, I know what they say about a TV in a couple's bedroom.

But do those people have toddlers that wake up at the crack of dawn, only to snuggle ~~kick, poke, bounce~~ in bed with them? Do they know the magic that early cartoons (in bed) have for SAHM's?

I didn't think so.

Having the TV in our bedroom is a new thing, one that The Child has quickly grown to love.

Maybe a bit too much.

The other night we put him to sleep in his bed. Listened at the door for a few minutes, and then made our way downstairs, positive that he was fast asleep, dreaming of sugar plums. Retreating to our "Cave" (the basement which holds the very very large TV... and maybe a futon on the floor), we were confident in settling in for a cozy night of quality television.

About an hour and a half later, The Husband decides that its his bedtime and begins to make his way upstairs.

Only to not come back down again and say:

"Did you put The Child in our bed? With the TV on?"

(Hellooooo? Who is he talking to???)

Me: "No. Of course not!"

TH: "Huh. Well, maybe you should come upstairs"

We did not make our way upstairs to find a very clever child, zoned out in front of cartoons, not relaxing in Mommy & Daddy's bed, at 9:30pm.

Somehow, the little smarty pants did not find the remote, or the cartoon station, or think that it was an ok thing to do. The Husband and I did not have a hard time keeping a straight face while disciplining him. Nope, not us!

I was not crazy, frazzled Mom on Thursday morning, rushing around, trying to get The Child out the door in time for pre-school. We were not almost 15mins late, only to find the doors locked. The Child did not proceed to have a melt down (he was seriously looking forward to some time away from crazy Mommy) and I did not begin to create a fabulous story in my head as to all the possibilities as why the school was closed.

Did they close down and not call me? Do they not like my child? Did they have a field trip planned and forget us? Do they not love me?

Oh yes, I had a fabulous time on my little concocted pity trip.

Once home, I called the administrator only to discover that the teachers had not called in sick the week before. And one of the kids Mommy's had not called to inform the school that her child was not being treated for H1N1.

My insecurities did not instantly turn into a pat on the back for my impeccable timing of missing the 2 weeks of school that everyone was sharing extra special germs. Nope, not me!

The Return

2009-11-18T11:23:00.007-07:00

After almost two weeks, I have returned to the great white north. Also known as home. The journey that I was on has really just begun. A whole new part of my heart has been opened, enlightened, some pieces still yet to be understood. But I received exactly what I was longing for deep in my belly. A shift, a change, a new understanding. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to tell the whole story, some pieces are meant just for those moments, held deep within my heart. But I will post pictures of my journey soon, they are still in the editing process.

Upon my return home, I realized just how amazing The Husband is. Of course, I've known since the moment I met him that he is not one to sit idle. The times that I have left home before, I've always returned to a clean home and usually a project or two finished, sometimes even a story or two about how he 'almost' bought this, that or the other thing. (He likes to make large purchases when I'm gone, thankfully I have friends ~~spies~~ who talk him out of it).

As we drove up to our house the other night from the airport, it sparkled with an array of Christmas lights, looking oh so cozy with all the garlands wrapped around the deck. Needless to say, I was impressed.

Then I walked inside.

The house was spotless. Even the closets were cleaned and organized. Any sign of clutter before (that drove me crazy) was gone. The Husband had gone on a different kind of shopping spree this time, a Christmas decoration shopping spree. It was like walking into a show-home. It felt absolutely amazing to walk into a clean, cozy, Christmas-y house. So I just had to share a few pictures with you, because we all know how much our partners love when we talk to our girlfriends about how amazing they are. :)

The wreaths were hung

Two trees are definitely better than one

This bookcase was a disaster before I left...

The last thing to be painted was our stairwell, and its now finished!

Closets cleaned, the clutter is gone.

The snowmen and baby Jesus are welcoming the Holiday season.

Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeen

2009-10-31T17:09:00.005-06:00

It all began with the hairy, scary monster cookie invasion!

Then the creepy, crawly spiders... ever watched "Arachnophobia"?!?!

Caught in tangled web....

Note the Ghetto Ride scarily parked in the background...

The big Daddy spider guards his lair....

Bwahahahahahahahahahhaaaaaaa.........

Journey to Ghost Ranch

2009-10-29T09:36:00.009-06:00

In approximately one week, I will be sitting, feeling the earth beneath me and drinking in this view.

I will be joined with 20 or so other amazing, deep women from around the world, hungry for more. The Child and I begin our adventure on Tuesday, when I will be flying with him to Kelowna, settling him in with Grandma/Grandpa and then leaving for Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, New Mexico.

By myself.

For a week.

I never imagined that New Mexico would be one of my travel destinations. Part of me is a little sad that it is not like the regular Mexico, all hot and palm trees and ocean. But after looking at some photos of where I will be staying, I think I can settle for awe inspiring, red rock view.

A lot of my blog is dedicated to my Mommy stories. The crazy, fun, sometimes hair-pulling times. Something that I don't talk a lot about here is what I do outside of the Mommy/housewife stuff. The purpose of this upcoming trip is to actually take my advanced training with Birthing From Within. I am in the process of becoming a certified mentor (aka childbirth educator... I prefer mentor as educator sounds very stuffy). So if you are unsure of what I do, I hold classes for parents to prepare them for the journey of pregnancy, childbirth and parenting. I am also a Doula, supporting women (physically, emotionally, spiritually) through the actual birth of their child.

I suppose I don't talk much about this on my blog as it is very close to my heart and runs very deep within. My blog is a place of light-hearted stories and recounting of the days with my son. To write about the deep shifts, the learning, the breathing, the emptying that I do (sometimes on a daily basis), feels like it is too huge for words. I am not the type of person to constantly be in that 'deep' frame of mind when socializing with friends and family. But get me one on one, with a good cup of something (tea, coffee, wine.. you pick!) and I'll take you to those deep places. In some ways I am excited to be in a place where I can open up those deep spaces, sharing with other women who are on journey parallel to mine. When else in my life will I be given this kind of opportunity? That in and of itself blows me away.

Beyond the excitement of traveling, meeting new people, learning and soaking in new things, sits just a tiny little bit of hesitation. This will be the longest that I have ever left The Child. I completely trust Grandma/Grandpa and know he will be just fine. But there is always that nagging feeling, that loss of control when I am not there. I feel it is so wonderful for children to grow up with a variety of influences and authorities in their life. My control issues are not so much about sticking to a routine, discipline, eating, sleeping etc. Rather, what if something happens? Something good or bad. I'm not there with him, knowing exactly what he needs or does not need. This train of thinking requires a lot of breathing, praying and letting go on my part.

Altogether, we will be gone for about two weeks. Taking a few days in Kelowna before and after my big trip to New Mexico to visit and rest between flights. Not sure how easy it will be for me to blog, especially in NM (apparently where we are the internet/phone connection is through microwave transmission. Fun times). That said, I'm sure you won't miss me too much as my blogging as been pretty few and far between lately.

I am going to try and post a few pictures sometime this weekend. I did a little seasonal Halloween decorating yesterday.. there is still a bit more to do. If you would have driven past my house you would have seen me standing on a chair on my porch, hanging large, hairy spiders. You would have not seen me swatting at my head like a crazy person because the wind made them fly around, hitting me in the back of the head. Even though they are completely fake, I was still not creeped out. *Shudder*

Stay tuned for some creepy crawly pictures and once I return from the big journey, I will do my best to write about all that happened. Ok, maybe not all, but I will at least pick my hi's and low's.

I think I can at least do that!

A Blessing Hiding in a Ghetto Ride

2009-10-27T23:47:00.005-06:00

Our car decided this past week that it required more time at the day spa, having its catalytic converter massaged. This was one pricey massage, it even came with a new battery. Perhaps you remember this post? Doesn't seem all that long ago that the thing was spending our money at the day spa, and our bank account is proof. Ironically enough, this little spa treatment came just shortly after The Husband came home with a surround sound system for the TV. Funny how that works.

Last time the car was at the spa, we had to rent a vehicle. Then we were blessed as some friends leant us theirs while they were out of town. This time, we were blessed again as we didn't require a rental. The car was out for almost a week (could you imagine spending a week at the spa? Seriously) and that could have been one pricey rental bill. But this time the blessing of a loaned vehicle did not come in the form of some snazzy friend's car.

Nope.

It came in the shape and form of my Father-in-law's travel/work, ghetto van.

A large, blue (baby blue to be exact), Ford Aerostar, early 90's van. Complete with the bumper being held to the van with a bungee cord. Let me not forget to mention the two mountain bikes in the back as well as a foam mattress for those late nights when you just can't drive (or bike) home. This blessing in disguise was left to us by the FIL after he finished a job out here and actually purchased a new van to drive home. Don't get me wrong, having a second vehicle is fabulous, just not when I have to drive it.

Yes, it did its job while my little car was being fixed. Yes, I should be grateful. And humble. I was, trust me. But I have pride. Just enough pride to park behind (or very far away) stores so no one could see me getting out of the ghetto ride. Just enough pride to wear my big, celebrity style sunglasses and hold my Starbucks up high, proving that I still had one last shred of dignity.

But the van also made me do crazy things. Perhaps it was the fumes of oil and grease that permeated my brain, making me into a crazy woman. I did not realize the effect of the van until one late afternoon in the grocery store parking lot. It had been a stressful shopping trip. One that was supposed to be quick, yet wasn't, complete with a cranky, demanding, sassy toddler.

Once outside, loading my loot into the van, a man approached me. He began to tell me his story of how he was just released from the hospital (I'm assuming he was looking for monetary help) and lifted his shirt to give me proof. Proof was his oozing brown, gauzed-up wound.

Me: "I don't want to see that!!!"

Random Man: "Oh, sorry.... I, uh, was just wondering...."

Me (in full snapshow voice): "What do you want from me?! Can't you see I'm a Mom, here with my kid?"

Random Man: "Oh, yah, uhhhh... sorry. Nevermind. Have a nice day."

Me: Audible sigh. "You too".

Please note I do not ever act this way to strangers. That poor poor man. He felt the full-on wrath of a stressed out, ghetto van drivin', hungry (grocery shopping does that to me), Mom. I felt terrible driving home, then I realized it must have been the van. I was taken over by its ghetto powers. Ok, not really, but I was trying to think up some excuse.

Even though the van tested my dignity, pushed me to snapshow on complete strangers, and even made me park miles away from my destination, it did its job. That I am thankful for. Some people don't even have a vehicle to drive, yes, I thought plenty about that.

Anytime that I am feeling ungrateful about something, I try and think of one positive thing, something to help me count my blessings. So, ghetto van, not only am I thankful for you getting us safely from point A to point B. But I am also thankful for how you complimented our costumes this past weekend. Nothing says AWESOME like rolling up to a family Halloween dance party, dressed in full Disco attire, driving a bumpin', baby blue, ghetto ride.

And for that, I thank you.

Paging Doctor Dangerous

2009-10-15T00:20:00.002-06:00

Life has been stupidly busy. I am ready to get off this train and onto a plane to somewhere tropical where I can sip drinks in coconuts and blog all day. And read Twilight.

Sigh.

It is late and I should be in bed. But I am so unbelievably dedicated to you, my Faithful Few, that I had to share a quick tid-bit of my life today.

Somehow my son has learned to play doctor. Yah. I know what you're thinking. But all repressed memories aside, I really have no idea how he knows what a Doctor does as its been over a year since he's seen one. (Does that make me a bad parent that I forgot the yearly check-up this year?)

Around dinner time today, our neighbor and dear friend E showed up for a little visit. In between swapping Thanksgiving stories and entertaining a certain 3yr old, an interesting incident occurred. The Child and E were playing around, tickling, etc (she is one of his favorite babysitters) when he announced that she needed to lay down. He was going to do Doctor.

She played along, and I watched with some amusement to see what he actually thought that was.

(I find imaginary play very fascinating. Its like a window into the brain of my child, a small snippet where I can actually understand how he sees the world).

So after listening to her heart, tummy and leg. His diagnosis was that she was sick and not feeling very well. We thought it was cute and she removed herself from the 'table' ~~floor~~ and we continued on with our conversations.

Next thing we know, The Child is mumbling something about being a very bad Doctor. He walks over with his pretend pager (yah, he has a play doctors kit. Really, we're just thinking about our own retirement. Someone has to support us). She asks if its his pager and he says yes. She says "Paging Dr. Child" in her best nurse voice and he responds....

"No. Paging Doctor Dangerous"

When it Rains it Pours.

2009-09-29T15:14:00.003-06:00

Yesterday, like most days, was full of good intentions. Intentions to clean, lose 5lbs, play with The Child, catch up on emails, pay bills, cook, laundry, write a blog post, etc etc etc....

Amazing how weak my Good Intentions are when it comes to nap time. The Child goes down (yes, I still have a child that naps. If I have my way, he will nap until he's a teenager. Then he'll just sleep-in right until nap time. Works for me) and I have approximately 2hrs to complete all my Good Intentions for the day.

Then I walk past my bedroom.

Start thinking about how soft my bed is... how warm it is....how droopy my eyes feel...

I can do a lot of things during the day with The Child and when he's awake. But what is the one thing I can't do?

SLEEP

Dear friends, as good as my intention was to post a blog yesterday, it was not as good as my overwhelming desire to sleep.

So here is my Not Me Monday.

Really, it is the epitome of a Not Me Monday as I am writing it on a Tuesday.

Our Summer has been incredibly busy. Filled with traveling, company, yard work, events here and there, so last weekend... we finally had a Saturday to ourselves, as a family.

What's a person to do with an entire free day?

First we stopped by the park near our house as they were having a big community day celebration. The Child and I both did not pick the Fire Truck exhibition as our favorite. Although I'm sure my reason was much different from his. If you don't catch my drift.

It was not my husband that then suggested we go look at TV's as there was apparently a huge sale on. I suppose we could have left the park, returned home to clean and do our dutiful, Saturday chores. But looking at TV's did not sound so much more appealing.

The electronic store was not a personal heaven for The Child, who does not love TV. I thought for sure he would just plunk himself down in front of the largest one and stay put, while The Husband and I decided our TV fate.

Boy, I was wrong.

Why sit and stare at one TV, when there are hundreds of all different shapes and sizes?

It was not my child that was running like a crazed madman, through the entire store, not climbing up TV stands, and definitely not trying to push the 'buttons' on the screens. See, the only thing that is HD on our TV at home, is the layers of dust that it collects. This doesn't mean we don't use it on a regular basis, it just means its old and very small. So for The Child to see a network logo on the bottom of the humongous picture, in HD, of course it looks like a button.

I was not the crazed Momma, chasing said crazed child, all over the store while The Husband did not proceed to purchase a very large and in charge TV.

Every so often we would pass The Husband and he would ask me "Is this ok? What do you think? Should we do it?"

Do you know how hard it is to make a large purchase decision while your child is climbing up the screen of a 52"?

Of course, all of my answers to the above questions were not a flustered "Sure. Whatever you think. Ten-twenty-p... huh? CHILD.. NO!! Get down!"

Finally, The Child found the row of display cell phones (which thankfully are attached by a long, elastic-type cord), this did not keep him busy until The Husband finished wearing out the credit card.

And as a celebratory gesture, to honor our new (and very large) purchase, The Child most definitely did not communicate in a very physical way that he had not had way too much apple juice and water at the park earlier in the day. I did not try to catch it in my hands.

I'm pretty sure our salesman will not remember us forever. Not only did we increase his commission, we also tipped him with one large, golden puddle.

Fast forward a week. A week of not watching way to much TV on our shiny, new family addition that I have not nicknamed "The Really Really Big Cartoon Babysitter". The Husband was not driving our car, only to have it not overheat and break down on the side of a major highway.

I suppose we don't really need to go anywhere when we have such a large, shiny object to hibernate us from all of society. Or at least that is how I am now justifying our smoking credit card.

When it rains, it definitely does not pour.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-09-16T11:21:00.003-06:00

Who says Child labor is wrong?!

Vanilla

2009-09-01T18:29:00.004-06:00

Today, I was hit with a nice wave of "Good Mom Guilt".

If you're a Mom you know exactly what I'm talking about. The internal dialogue sounds something like this:

"If I was a good mom, I would have daily craft activities with my child, completely organized and beautiful.

If I was a good mom, I wouldn't feed my child grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch every day this week.

If I was a good mom, there would be no way that I would let my child watch two movies back to back, let alone have a TV. Because I would be doing daily crafts, letter recognition, music and dance activities.

If only I was a good mom....".

Today I felt that I should pass on my love for cooking and baking to my child. It is very important to me that he grows up with a love and respect for cooking and food. So he can whip up many delicious meals while he attends Harvard. Or Yale. I'm not picky.

It occurred to me that we had marshmallows in the pantry left-over from camping a few weeks back, and while at the store, noticed the Rice Krispies were on sale.

1+1= 2 aka Rice Krispie Squares!

Of all the things I could bake with my son, I figured that Rice Krispie squares were probably the easiest and most harmless. He was over the moon to help, especially as marshmallows are one of his most favorite things.

I am a bit (ok, a lot) of a kitchen control freak. You want to help? Set the table, do the dishes and clean up after dinner, but don't try and help me cook. It is a big stretch for me to have The Child in the kitchen with me and I am constantly learning patience, and that its ok if he tastes Baking Soda.

So there we were, melting marshmallows, measuring Rice Krispies, anticipating the yumminess to come. So far the whole experience was going along quite smoothly. I was also pretty excited to make a double batch and take some to a client meeting I was going to later that evening. Those little crisps of rice were all marshmallowy coated and ready to be smooshed into a pan, when I realized that I didn't have the pans out and ready to be filled. Dang. I turned my back for literally a matter of 2 seconds to grab the pans, to return and see The Child holding the bottle of Vanilla over the big pot of marshmallowy goodness.

"NO!" I scolded. "No, no, no... we don't need to add any of that, Mommy already added plenty!"

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, grabbed the bottle out of his hands, thanking my lucky baking stars that I had caught him before he poured.

Or at least I thought.

Just as I was about to put the marshmallow goodness into the pan, I was hit with a huge waft of Vanilla and alcohol. See, I don't just use the plain ol'vanilla extract. No, I purchase the real stuff. The Madagascar Bourbon Vanilla... the stuff that could make a happy hour, extra happy.

As I stirred the pot, I noticed at the bottom the huge puddle of Vanilla settling into the bottom. That's when I realized the bottle on the counter was not so full anymore. Amazing what children can do in the matter of milliseconds. Sigh.

Guess these were going to be "Adult Only" treats now and it didn't look like I would be taking them to the client meeting either. Nothing says "Hi, I'm your Doula" than handing a pregnant Mom alcohol-laden marshmallowy treats.

If I was a "Good Mom", I probably wouldn't have yelled at my Child for dumping in 10 times the amount of needed Vanilla.

And if I was a "Really Good Mom", I probably wouldn't have let him eat the extra Vanilla'd treats either.

So much for alleviating "Mom Guilt".

A Journey of Epic Proportions!

2009-08-26T15:06:00.000-06:00

4 Hotels

3 States, 1 Province

1 Angry GPS device

Way too many delicious meals

6.2 Miles, 4 Obstacles, 1 Mountain Bike

1 Extra Muddy Mud Pit

1 Celebratory Beer Garden (much deserved)

1 Outlet Mall

1 Very lucrative shopping spree at Victoria Secret

1 Very flat tire

1 Twilight audiobook- to make it through one very long state (MT)

2 Very tired, yet satisfied (and sad to be going home), partners in grime, Muddy Buddies forever!

*Some photos are courtesy of my partner in grime. Thanks luv! :)

When Mommy's Away.....

2009-08-24T16:57:00.004-06:00

Daddy apparently cuts hair.

I came home from my great adventure (which I am planning to write about soon! I know you are waiting with baited breath!), snuck into The Child's room for a much needed kiss, to find him fast asleep missing much of his beautiful hair.

It looked something like this:

Ok, maybe not so bad. But all his beautiful, long curls in the front (and side) were gone. If anything he looked MORE like a girl as he had short, short bangs and long curls in the back.

Sigh.

During my time away I had a sinking feeling that something was going to happen to my child's hair. Mommy's always know.

You may be wondering if I was mad.

No.

Hair grows, he had good reasons (his hair was always in his eyes), and I guess it was time for a cut.

So before we could go anywhere in public (because you know that if a kid has bad hair, everyone judges that kid's Mommy, and I didn't have time to get a t-shirt made that said: "My Daddy cuts my hair"), I had to fix it.

The long, curls have been replaced by a cute, messy cut.

He looks even more like a big boy now and I can finally take him out in public.

What Have I Gotten Myself Into?!?!

2009-08-13T07:55:00.003-06:00

Today I leave the cold north of Alberta and begin the long drive to Colorado.

View Larger Map

I should be packing, showering, checking my lists twice, but instead I'm sitting here, typing, because you, My Faithful Few, are just that important!

Do you ever make plans with a friend to do something totally outrageous, "Oh ya! We totally have to do this/that!" and then life gets in the way, reality sets in, and you realize for whatever reason (money, time, kids, work, etc), that said plan is just too outrageous?!

Today, I actually begin a journey to LIVE out such an outrageous plan.

When we first signed up, many many months ago, there was a small voice inside that said to me "This would be so much fun, but you know its probably not going to work. Another crazy plan laid to rest."

Somehow the stars and angels came together. Babysitters fell into place, money was available, time and sheer determination all came into play.

Today my journey begins on a bus to Calgary, from there my dear friend and I will embark on a trip of a lifetime. Tonight we should hopefully be in Montana, stop for a quick sleep, and then continuing onto Colorado, pulling in sometime Friday night. Approximately 20hrs of driving (including my bus ride). It sounds like a long time, doesn't it? Does it sound so much more appealing to you when I tell you that there are no kids in said car? Just me and my dear friend and a bike?

A bike?

Yup. The whole purpose of our trip is to challenge ourselves to some good ol'adventure racing. We'll be running and biking on a course, complete with obstacles and a very large mud pit at the end, for a total of 10km, 6.2 miles. Seriously. What have I gotten myself into?

Of course I've done extensive training for such a race, right?! Right?!

Ha. NO.

Again, what have I gotten myself into?

Don't get me wrong, I've been at the gym, at least 2-3 times a week, participating in intense bootcamp classes and spin/cycle. I am very confidant on the stationary bike, rocking out the spin class like its nobodies beeeswax. I've even asked to instruct said class. But a real bike? Not so confidant. I'm having a hard time remember the last time I was even ON a real bike.

Don't they say that you never forget to ride a bike? Oh goodness, I hope so! I think I will be doing laps in the hotel parking lot, getting my groove back.

As for the running portion, I've built up some pretty good endurance, but I'm still feeling pretty apprehensive about a whole 10k!

Oh, did I mention that there are obstacles sprinkled throughout the course? Yah. Obstacles.

And at the very end, to top it ALL off.... a gigantic mud pit that me and my dear friend must CRAWL through. Clothes, shoes, helmets, and all.

Welcome to Muddy Buddy!

I think I might have failed to mention the beer garden at the end of the race? :)

Classy like that

2009-08-05T23:02:00.004-06:00

Today was a bizarre day. A very busy, bizarre day.

I say bizarre because I did a few things that were completely out of the norm for me.

The Child and I were up at at reasonable time to get fed, watered, dressed and out the door for him to be at Summer Camp by 9am.

(Summer Camp you ask? For a 3yr old? Why yes! When it means three whole, child-free hours, sign me up! Its at our local Y and he LOVES it. You should see the adorable 'dinonoculars' he made today. Anyways...)

As I was rushing out the door, The Child and his stuff in tow, along with my own work-out gear, I was internally patting myself on the back for my impeccable timing.

If you know me, you know (and hopefully love) my chronic tardiness. It has gotten better over the years, but it is a daily struggle.

So when I make it out to the car, with The Child, on time, I'm thinking its going to be a great, stress-free day. My own personal ego boost.

The Child is strapped in, ready to go, I get in the drivers seat, and wham it hits me.

I'm not wearing any make-up.

Ok. So its not life or death or anything. And I am definitely not one of those girls who wears an entire MAC store to hit the gym, but I do at least give myself some eyelashes. I'm fair and blonde, no mascara means I have no eyelashes. None. Have you ever seen someone without eyelashes? It's disturbing.

As I freeze in my seat, key almost inserted in the ignition, my internal decision making process goes on over-drive.

I could just run in quickly, brush brush, swipe swipe, and be done. 7 minutes top.

Ugh, but then I'll be late and I would have to leave The Child in the car... I was doing so well!

I can't believe I forgot to at least put on mascara? Bah! Ok, so I'm just going to the gym, not a big deal. Women go to the gym all the time without eyelashes, right?

Dang, I have 3 hours to kill and I was going to hit Starbucks after the gym to read.

Can one hang in a suburban Starbucks, eyelash free?

How much more time am I going to waste trying to decide what to do?

Quickly, I check my reflection in the mirror, thank my lucky hormonal stars that last weeks craters have cleared and decide to embrace the hippie, granola way.... bare faced to the world!

I may be eyelash free, but at least I smell good.

Wait.

Uh oh.

I do the double sniff check and realize I totally forgot deodorant, too! UGH!

There's no turning back now, as I've left the drive way, determined to maintain my rare punctuality.

So now I'm going to be the stinky, smelly, pimply, no-eyelash girl at the gym.

Awesome.

No-eyelashes I can deal with. Smelly, not so much.

As I sweat it out during the Bootcamp class, I keep a fair distance from the other gym rats. Hoping and praying that they don't clue in that I'm the one with the bad B.O.

Stay down-wind, stay down-wind!

This day does not smell like roses at all.

After my class is over, I head into the locker room to change my shoes, trying to think of a creative solution to resolve the stench that has become me. I am completely unwilling to give up my extra hour of child-free time to drive home and then back to Starbucks.

Every free minute counts.

I find myself at the nearest sink, waiting for the moment that the locker room clears.

I know I will only have a split second.

The charade of washing my hands begins.

Working up a good, bubbly, clean scrub...

No ones looking? Go!

I quickly wash the origin of my stench, those nasty pits of arms, rinse, grab a paper towel and dry before the next gym rat walks by.

Yes, I, no-eyelash girl, is now squeaky clean and daisy fresh thanks to washing my armpits in an open, public, locker room.

Because, well, I'm classy like that.

Slacker

2009-07-30T10:50:00.009-06:00

That's exactly the word to describe me in regards to my blogging (or lack there of) lately. Summer is short here in Northern Alberta. We've been trying to soak up each moment of sunshine, bottle it and save for those long winter days of -40. Although those hot hot days are few and numbered, we've spent each one (so far) to the fullest.

Relaxing with friends in our little turtle pool. Yes, even I, a grown woman, an adult if you will, has laid out in this small, yet substantial pool. You would be surprised at what maximum capacity looks like for this poor, unassuming, turtle pool. The Husband and I have definitely not both cooled off while The Child napped by laying in the pool. I'm sure our neighbors wished they had their camera's handy that day!

Keeping cool in the pool with the ladies

So far this summer has been filled with visitors a plenty. Majority of which have been Grandparents, which really are the best kind. The Child enjoyed many adventures with Grandpa and early mornings with Grandma (helloooo sleeeep!). Something new and exciting rode (literally) into town last week. Granny (The M.I.L) & Pete on their Motorbikes! The Child was so excited beyond words when he discovered they were coming into town. He stared quietly out the window, waiting to hear the roar and rumble of the bikes as they pulled in. Motorbikes. Motorcycles. Its all we heard about for days.

What would be more exciting to a little boy than seeing a Motorbike?

Washing it!

Of course, The Child then had to get his bike in on the cleaning action.

And what's better than washing the bikes?

Sitting on them!

Tomorrow marks our maiden voyage of camping as a family. Ok. That's not entirely true. We have camped before as a family. When The Child was only a few months old we trekked cross-country (or at least it felt that way with a nursing babe... ever breastfeed in a moving vehicle while your child continues to obey the law and stay in their seat? You on the other hand need official acrobatic training to complete such a task. Or at least really large breasts. I have neither. Amazing what we do to 'save' time.) to Vancouver to camp with all my extended family. Even then we shared a tent trailer with my parents. Since then, we have been fortunate enough to have amazing neighbors, who have become even better friends, that conveniently own a trailer. That sleeps six. So when I say "Maiden Voyage", I mean, this is the first time as a family that we are officially "tenting" it. And when I say "tent", I mean "tent". I would like you to meet "The Mansion". Who needs a trailer that sleeps six, when you can have a tent that sleeps thirteen, can divide into four separate areas, and has 222sq ft of living space? Why would our small family of three require such a monstrosity? Because it was on sale for a ridiculous price and I'm a sucker for a good deal. Now our next challenge will be to see if our compact Jetta can fit the piles upon piles of camping gear that is waiting in my kitchen to be loaded. Pictures of the ridiculousness to come. As well as our Maiden Voyage in The Mansion.

I just may have popped into the neighbors yard to take a picture.. that's how big this thing is!

There is a whole other side to this beast that was unable to be captured by my small camera.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-07-22T12:38:00.002-06:00

* The Child protesting the many hours spent at North America's largest Mall.

Not My Child Monday

2009-07-20T14:22:00.007-06:00

The super genius and fabulous MckMama over at My Charming Kids has come up with a little twist on our classic NMM...

Not MY CHILD Monday

Its brazzilliant! One of my very first NMM's was a similar idea. You can read more about that here.

Somehow, somewhere, The Child has learned that a big belly means that there is a baby inside. (I know right now you are thinking... "Oh no... I remember when my little Jonny pointed to the 'extra healthy' woman at the grocery store, yelling loudly for all to hear... ". Thankfully, this isn't one of those moments. Although, I have a sickening feeling in my stomach that it will happen soon. I love that toddlers have absolutely no social filter.)

The other day we were lounging around the living room and The Child was drinking heaps and heaps of water, thanks to Grandmas super cool water bottle. Shortly after, I pointed to his belly (which was completely extended) and said:

"Child, look at how big your belly is! All that water is sloshing around!"

He of course, did not reply, "No, Mommy. There's a baby in there!"

"No, honey. Only Mommy's have babies in their tummies."

He did not walk up to me (I was laying on the couch), poke my boob and say,

"Look, Mommy has a baby in her nipple!!"

Nope, not my child!

Last week while the Grandparents were visiting we happened to trek downtown to take in the annual Capital Ex Parade (which is literally the most boring and underwhelming parade you will ever see. Not sure why kids enjoy it, as it was really just a bunch of politicians in cars. Whooo hooo. Maybe if they threw candy I would vote for them.)

The Child really did enjoy the whole spectacle, from the bag pipes, to the marching bands, to the cars and fire trucks. We did not see the effect of his enjoyment of said parade until the next day while driving in the van. He did not randomly start wailing at the top of his lungs, mimicking the sound of the old-fashioned fire truck horn. "Weeeeeehhoooooooooooohoohhhh."

He did not continue to repeat this wonderful noise over and over and over, until I vowed that that was the last parade he will ever see.

The Child is a very easy going kid. I am scared to have another as it most likely will not be as easy has he has been. His two's weren't so terrible, and so far his three's have been a blast. But one thing they don't warn you about is the attitude that comes with a three-year old. It is a really good look into the future when he is 13. I am beginning to prepare myself now.

Recently, The Child has gained a huge sense of independence along with the attitude. I find the combination quite hilarious on a daily basis. He did not inform me the other day that he had different plans than what we were presently doing. The conversation went a little like this:

Child: "I am NOT going home. (we were driving home from the store)

Mommy, YOU go home, I AM going to the SHOW! HUMPH!"

(complete with dramatic crossing of the arms)

Me: "Child, you can't go to the show yourself, how would you get there?"

The Child: "YES! I am GOING to the SHOW!

NEVER, no not EVER going home! HUMPH!"

(again, dramatically crossing the arms)

Me: "Okay then, I guess you are going to the show. But you're going to have to walk there, 'cus Mommy is going home."

Child: "That's RIGHT! I am GOING to the SHOW!

NOT going HOME! HUMPH!"

(again, crossing the arms for dramatic emphasis)

Seriously? Where does he learn such things? And how much do you want to bet that I will be having the exact SAME conversation ten years from now, only I'm sure I will be driving him there and having to shell out the cash. SIGH. Nope, Not MY CHILD!

Wordless Wednesday- Adventures with Grandpa!

2009-07-15T13:40:00.004-06:00

3 Women Walked Into a Karaoke Bar....

2009-07-13T10:07:00.008-06:00

Every woman needs Girls Night. It doesn't matter what age you are, there is some deep, innate need to spend a complete evening with your girls. Of course the activities that ensue when you are with your girls change throughout your lifetime. Perhaps when you were a little girl, you had all your girls over for a slumber party, complete with junk food, gossip, fights, silent treatments, movies, and giggle fits. Maybe you were really daring and snuck out of the house to play "Nikki Nikki Nine Door". As you grew up, girls night might have changed a little bit, instead of staying at home maybe you went to see a movie, or out for dinner, or to a bush party somewhere. Guaranteed wherever you were, your night was still complete with junk food, gossip, and giggle fits.

If you are a Mom, I'm sure you've come to the realization that Girls Nights are not just for fun anymore, they are essential. We become desperate to leave the house, all dolled-up (or not) and interact with other adult human beings of the female variety. I myself soon learned that Girls Night actually made me a better Mom. The ability to have an evening where I was able to just be me, was crucial to my week (or month). I would wake up the next morning with my sense of self, renewed. As Moms, you would think that Girls Night would have toned down quite a bit since we are adults, responsible and mature (we have children, for goodness sake!). It is fairly unlikely that we would play ridiculous, childish games in the middle of the night, waking our neighbors (hmmm, there was that one time in a hotel at 2am... running in underwear....ahem... nevermind...). But it is likely that we would enjoy some fabulous drinks and dessert, chatting away about all the good ~~and bad~~ in our lives. Of course, because we are responsible, mature, classy women, the next part of Girls Night would be a cute, romantic comedy at the cheap theatre (because we are always budget conscious, right?!).

We would definitely not change our predictable plans last minute, ditch the movie, drive completely out of the way to the best Karaoke bar in the city, just because we're crazy like that. We did not rock the house with our renditions of "Before He Cheats", " Just A Girl", and "With a Little Help From My Friends", while enjoying others make just a big of fools of themselves as we did. The most important part of Girls Night is not what you do, but who you do it with and a very large side of spontaneity.

Workin' it...

Talk about stage presence...

No Girls Night is complete without my Mom! She showed us how its done!

Not Me Monday

2009-07-06T13:25:00.010-06:00

I was totally going to post this week's NMM last Monday, but unfortunately I decided to take a very long pity trip that day, and nothing got done. Usually, blogging is great for pity trips, but I didn't even have the creative ability to write, that's how amazing my trip was. The only thing I did have the ability to do was to not stuff delicious, large, double chocolate chip cookies into my mouth, one after another.

So here is my NMM... a week late, but amazing nonetheless!

Regularly, my son is mistaken for a girl. Very regularly. Even though I dress him in the most masculine of clothes (plaid shorts, blue shoes, brown/green shirts), people still say "Oh, she's so sweet!". Sometimes The Child notices, and retorts, and other days... he could careless. I've just come to the conclusion that majority of people are either just ignorant, or blinded by the stunning cuteness of my son, therefore they don't think before they speak. I'm hoping its the latter.

The main ingredient to his mistaken gender would be his beautiful, long, curly hair. I have cut it many times, but I don't have the heart to chop it. It has become his 'signature look'... and I love it. All this to say, that I would never, no not ever, take advantage of the fact that he has long hair to fulfill my hairdressing ~~girly~~ dreams. I would not spend a half-hour with The Child in the bathroom after his bath, convincing him of all the fun things we could do to his hair. Of course, I would never actually do said things, nor would I ever take pictures.

Nope, not me!

Nope, those are definitely not pig-tails in my sons hair.

At this point, he did not exclaim "I'm a dirrrrl!!!"

(aka 'girl' when all all your 'g's sound like 'd's)

He seems pretty pleased with himself, doesn't he?!

Ps. Did you notice the new "Not Me Monday" Logo?

Pretty cool beans if I do say so myself.

I am not the maker of such brilliance, but rather a copy & paster (imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!).

It is courtesy of another wonderful blogger and Mom of 4 over at

My Charming Kids, take a moment and have a read!

Happy Birthday TO ME!!!!!

2009-06-25T09:33:00.007-06:00

Today has been WAY better than I expected. Because, well, I expected nothing, and received much.

The Husband woke me up with breakfast (he went into work late so he could make me breakfast), a wonderful omelet, bagel with nutella, fruit, and bacon. Oh and of course coffee and a large Mimosa. Yes please.

(I would never drink a Mimosa at 7:45am, not me!)

He had arranged to take The Child over to a friends for the day and said that my birthday surprise would be arriving around 9am. Off they went, and I enjoyed a quiet breakfast and then my Mimosa ~~or two~~ in the garden.

The birthday surprise just showed up... two wonderful ladies that are going to clean ~~scrub scour spic & span~~ my entire house. Sigh. Do you know how wonderful of a gift that is? Some women are 'cleaning inspired'. I am not one of those women, it is a serious chore for me. I remember when I was young, my mom would often lament how all she wanted for her birthday, or Mother's Day, or any special day, was a clean house. I didn't really understand it then, but now, as a Mother myself, I completely get it. Right now, I am so incredible grateful to The Husband for being so wonderful to me. I was not pouting all day yesterday because I thought he forgot.

I also received a very special email from my Mom, a recollection of my birth story. I was waiting for her permission to post it on my blog, but I can't wait any longer. Enjoy!

Skyla Jo Rebecca Poulette/Hall- Helfrick-Bradley

Written by: Gloria

"...I thought for your birthday I would take you back to the day of your birth and recap what it was like for me.

I can’t remember exactly the day your due date was predicted, but I do remember being excited that it was going to be somewhere around my birthday, and naturally hoping it would be on the same day. Yet my birthday came and went, with a surprise that was not expected at all. It was from that day on that I realized I was on my own with you as your birth dad decided it was a good day to disappear. That week was pretty much a blur, and as I should have been enjoying the “nesting’ time before you came, instead I found myself smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day and frantically trying to figure out what went wrong with my so called marriage. My mom and dad though were incredible. My mom put up with my constant questioning and worry every day, and was the best listener and most patient person in the world. And as much as she wanted to really give a piece of her mind as to what she really thought about Brad taking off, she kept her peace and kept her focus on the fact that I was about to give birth. She knew what was ahead; me on the other hand, I didn’t have a clue.

June 25^th 1981 – Thursday

6am - I awoke to go to the bathroom and got up from my waterbed. Yes, a waterbed…I pretty much had to rock myself out of bed every morning…and felt like a beached whale. As soon as I walked to the bathroom, my water broke. I called to my mom who had been staying with me, and she called the hospital right away. I didn’t understand why she was calling the hospital, as I didn’t think that I would be having you yet just because my water broke. It didn’t follow along with all the prenatal classes I went too as I was told labor was supposed to happen first. But my mom reassured me that we would be going to the hospital that day and to get myself ready. In the meantime she got my dad going as well, he was the driver. He was incredibly calm, almost too much so. He took a long time getting ready, and then slowly made his way to the car. Even though he was driving, he was also driving my mom crazy as she kept on telling him to hurry up. I think he was trying to overcompensate because my mom was pretty intense and he wanted to be calm on my account. I also was very calm and still didn’t see the need to go to the hospital, but wasn’t about to go against my mom.

So off we went. We arrived around 9am. They checked me in and took me to the labor room. I still hadn’t started labor and was getting restless, so I decided to join my Dad out in the waiting room. By this time Sharon had arrived as well. I was still kinda stunned at everything that was going on and still not sure if I was going to have you that day. I asked Dad for a smoke, he was nervous by that point, and gave me two. So there we were all sitting in the waiting room smoking, when all of a sudden the contractions started. They came on really fast, so much so that I had a hard time walking back to the labor room. Sharon, wasn’t sure she was going to be allowed to come into the labor room with me, I thought they were only going to allow my mom to come in. But she was thrilled when the nurse came out and told her to scrub up and come in as well.

I had a lot of back labor, and my energy was a bit zapped due to my walk to the waiting room, and having a smoke didn’t help either. They decided to give me a shot of Demerol.

The next couple hours were so peaceful. Sharon and Grandma kept taking turns rubbing my back. Lorraine, my cousin also came in for a short time to give them a break. After about 4 hours of labor the Demerol wore off and I wasn’t quite prepared for the pain. I wanted more drugs, but was too close to delivery, so they just humored me by giving me “laughing” gas to take the edge off.

At around 5pm they said I was fully dilated and took me into the delivery room. Only Sharon and my mom were allowed to come with me. As soon as I got there, my urge to “push” and my contractions subsided. It was so funny as I remember the doctor sitting in the corner with his arms crossed waiting. I started to get antsy and worried that they would send me home if I didn’t start pushing. So I asked him “are you going to send me home?” I think he laughed, and replied, “no, you’re going to have the baby tonight”, which was a relief to hear….

6pm - Sure enough you came out, 7lbs 11oz. Your little hand reached up and grabbed onto the forceps (yes, they used those back then). They placed you on my tummy for a few minutes then whisked you away to get you all cleaned up. When they brought you to me I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. Partly because you were a dry birth. Your skin was so soft and smooth and glowy. So precious. And the hair…so cute, it stood straight up.

From that point on everything seemed to work like clockwork. You were an easy baby and seemed to have an ability to ease my worry. At times it almost seemed like you knew how to help me care for you. God knew in creating you that you would be strong, and sensitive. You had a way about you that made me feel like you understood some of the tragedy that had happened and I felt that you and I could weather any storm as long as we weathered it together.

So there you have it…a full recount to the best of my ablity and memory…Even though most of it you know and we’ve shared I thought it would be good to have it in writing."

Oh, and I just discovered a wonderful new bloggity-blog friend, and surprise surprise, its her birthday today TOO! How fun! Happy Birthday Kimber!!!

Not Me Monday

2009-06-22T11:47:00.002-06:00

This will probably be my last post for the week, as I have not been procrastinating on preparing to teach my Birthing From Within Childbirth Prep class this coming weekend. I do not find blogging as a great distraction escape from the things that need to be done. Please stick with me, my Faithful Few, while I study ~~sunbathe~~ and prepare for the upcoming class.

As things will be a little quiet on my end this week, I will leave you with a few "Not Me's" that did not happen to me over the past few days.

Perhaps you read my wonderful, long, Not Me Monday story last week about my infatuation with Ziploc baggies, and my life-time supply? If not, you can catch up here.

Well, my dear friend and Doula partner, (and brand new Mama of two!) Trish, did not let me know of her desperate need of Freezer bags. I, of course, was more than willing to part with a few boxes, and promptly let her know that I would drop some off. I did not then go to the pantry to pull out a box or two to put by the front door, only to realize.... that it was Sandwich baggies that I had a life-time supply of, not Freezer! I did not completely confuse the two while writing my NMM last week. Nope, I do not have naturally blonde hair. Not Me!

After meeting with a potential, new Doula client, I did not find my tummy grumbling on the drive home. There was not a Taco Del Mar conveniently located at the next street, and I did not decide to pull in and eliminate my grumbling tummy. I did not order two, soft, chicken taco's to-go, with a side of chips and guacamole (which was the worst guac I've ever had. My fault I suppose for expecting fresh guac at 9pm). I would never drive and eat, definitely not. If you were to have passed me on the highway, and looked into my car, you would not have seen my feeble attempts to eat soft taco's while driving a standard (stick-shift). There was not hot salsa and chicken juice dripping down my arm and landing in fun little pools on my shirt, pants, and seat. My face and lap were not covered in Pico de Gallo and tortilla chip crumbs. After attempting miserably to not eat one taco and drive, I definitely did not unwrap the second taco and continue to down my mexican path of destruction. Nope, not me!

I was not wearing white, plaid shorts, while out at a family carnival at The Husband's job site. "Someone"...very...ahem... "special" ~~cursed~~ did not come a knockin' on my outhouse door while stopping in for a quick potty break. Of course I am ALWAYS prepared and I did not need to become extremely creative with toilet paper. Nope, not me!

See you in a week, My Faithful Few!

Happy Father's Day.

2009-06-21T22:56:00.007-06:00

I know it's late. Technically Father's Day ended at 6pm. Well, it did in our house, because that is the time that Mommy (me) is DONE. So here I am, Father's Day is over, but I wanted to take a moment to put up a few precious pictures to honor The Husband as a father. A really great one at that!

New snuggles

Naps on the couch...

Watching TV....

Playing soccer and Tball....

Fishing....

Learning why it is so great to be a boy....

Skipping stones....

And always.... tons of kisses!

And of course, a few pictures to honor my own father, as the perfect Grandpa. The Child is counting the days that Grandpa and Grandma make their journey back from Hawaii. A year is too long.

Grandpa was the best at soothing him to sleep....

Connected from the beginning...

Wordless Wednesday- Summa Time!!!

2009-06-17T12:37:00.004-06:00

Not Me Monday

2009-06-15T11:27:00.003-06:00

Last Monday, I did not skip writing my usual "Not Me Monday" post, in favor of a nap. Nope, not me!

So this week, because I am very dedicated to my blogging, I will shower upon you the fateful, funny things that have occurred.

I am not in love ~~obsessed~~ with ziploc baggies. You would never find a drawer in my kitchen with three different sizes of baggies to suite my storage needs. While shopping at Costco this past week, I did not do a ziploc happy dance in the middle of the isle when I saw their jumbo packs of baggies were on sale. Once the happy dance was complete, I stopped for a moment to try and remember what size I actually needed. Ok, I didn't stop for very long, because we all know how Mommy Brain works... or doesn't. I was pretty convinced that I was almost out of my freezer ziplocs, and still had plenty of sandwich ones at home. I did not continue to do a little happy shuffle the rest of my shopping trip, over the $3 reduction of price on my freezer ziploc's. Once we arrived home, and while dutifully putting away my groceries, I did not, to my dismay, realize that my pantry was fully stocked with freezer ziploc's. I do not only have one box of sandwich ziploc's in my pantry, and 12 boxes of freezer size. I am currently not set for life in the freezer ziploc department. Nope, not me.

I did not feel so inspired after watching last weeks "So You Think You Can Dance" episode, feel the need to reenact the beautiful dances. I did not find The Husband singing Bryan Adams "I Will Be Right Here Waiting For You" (as one of the couples just finished dancing to this song) in the kitchen after the show was over. The need to dance did not arise in me so strong, of course there was no help from the glass ~~or two~~ of wine that I had just consumed. It was not me who proceeded to twirl around and around, empty wine glass in hand, into The Husband's strong, singing arms. We did not hear the crushing sound of glass as my twirl ~~stumble~~ ended right into his chest. We froze for a moment, registering what had just happened. Upon looking down, we did not find an empty wine glass, still in my hand, shattered to a million pieces. It did not cut my hand/fingers in three separate places

Of course, it was not me who recounted the above story to the bank teller when she asked me why I had so many band-aids on my hand. Nope, not me!

We are not the kind of parents who would ever let our son run around outside, naked as the day he was born, in the front yard for all the neighbors and passing traffic to see. Of course, our son did not repeatedly announce to the world, "Look! I'm naked!!!". Nope, not us!!

What are YOU making for dinner?

2009-06-13T13:57:00.012-06:00

Since my last recipe post was such a hit (or so I am told), I was inspired to post another one of my all time favorite summer recipes. This one was a collaboration between me and my fabulous sis-in-law. She is one of the few people I will allow in the kitchen with me whilst I create my masterpieces. Generally, I am very territorial, but she is like the perfect kitchen/cooking partner. She completes me. You know when people are so close they complete each others sentences? She completes my cooking sentences. How is that possible you ask? While ~~working~~ creating side by side, before I can even say what I need done next, or what spice or complimentary flavor needs to be added, she is already there, doing it. She is my cooking soul mate.

Leia, my love, this recipe is for you!

Indian Inspired Chicken Donairs

The Marinade

~3 or 4 Medium sized chicken boobs- This will feed 4 hungry people, plus left overs!

~4 heaping spoon fulls of "Pataks Mild Curry Paste" (or your favorite Curry Paste). Eyeball it. If you like your food spicy like you like your lovers (ahahaha) then add some hot sauce to the marinade. It is easier to add more heat then to try and take it away.

~Good hand full of freshly chopped mint.

~2-4 Finely minced garlic cloves. Subjective to how much you love garlic.

~A good drizzle of EVOO*, you want enough oil to make the curry, mint, garlic concoction a good paste-like consistency. Not too runny. *Extra Virgin Olive Oil

~A large zip-loc bag.

~Salt & Pepper

Combine Curry Paste, Mint, Garlic, EVOO, and Salt & Pepper in ziploc bag. Mush it around until mixed. Add Chicken Boobs to baggie. Mush paste all around chicken until coated and marinating happily with its East Indian friends. Let sit in fridge for a few hours. The longer the better. A few hours at least.

The Fixin's

~4-6 Naan Breads. Depends on how hungry everyone is. Superstore sells the best Naan's that I have found, that are the closest to the real thing. I suppose you could even go to your favorite Indian restaurant and purchase a few Naan's for take-out.

~Raita. If you have all the time in the world, make your own! I love the ease of this meal, so I purchase it pre-made. What is Raita you ask? Its this delicious cool, yogurt based dip/spread filled with mint, cilantro, and cucumber. Mmmmmm. You could also use Tzatiki, but then they would be more "Greek" inspired, not "Indian".

~Thinly sliced cucumbers and red onions.

~Fresh cilantro. Heaps of it! I keep the leaves on the stems, and use it like a lettuce.

The Finished Product

Get your BBQ nice and hot. Remove happy chicken boobs from there marinade home, and grill them up. The key to this meal is not over cooking your chicken! Well, the key to any good BBQ is not over cooking. If you don't have a meat thermometer, I highly recommend purchasing one, they are fairly inexpensive. That way you don't have to cut your meat while its grilling, therefore losing all those yummy juices. Depending on the size of your boobs, chicken boobs, I mean. They will probably only need about 6-8 minutes per side. Once they are cooked, place on a plate, cover with tinfoil and let them rest. Yes, those precious boobs need their rest. This is what makes BBQ meat moist and juicy. (who knew that a recipe could become so provocative ...eep!). Let them sit in their tinfoil tent for about 10 minutes. Perfect time for you to chop up all your veggies, throw the Naan's in the oven, set the table, and apply a fresh coat of lip stick.

Slice up your chicken right before serving, and place on warm Naan bread, topping it all off with the cucumbers, red onions, cilantro and Raita.

Have lots of napkins on hand as this does get a little messy. Enjoy!

*We were out of red onions when I photographed the above masterpiece, so I improvised with yellow bell peppers instead

You're it....

2009-06-12T14:23:00.003-06:00

I've been tagged. Thanks to the fabulous Mama4Real. So enjoy reading a blog about the randomness that makes me happy. Which I'm sure you, My Faithful Few could actually even write for me, as I'm always writing about my happy things.

Here are the rules, you better run, 'cus I'm tagging YOU next!!!!

The Rules:

* List Six Unimportant Things That Make You Happy

* Mention and link to the person who tagged you

* Tag six of your favorite bloggers to play along
{and comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been tagged}

*I don't think I even know 6 fellow bloggers... so I will do my best....

1. Food. Any kind, any time, any where. Hmmm I'm not sure if food really counts,

as it technically would not be labelled as "unimportant". Its pretty important if I do say so myself. It still makes me happy, especially if it comes in the form of ice cream, chocolate, bread, coffee or ambrosia salad.

2. Summer Nights. So much about a beautiful summer night makes me happy. It conjures up memories of night swimming in the warm, Okanagan Lake, when I was young and fancy-free. It makes me very happy that the sun does not go down until close to 11pm here. One of my few, favorite things about Edmonton.

3. Waking up to a clean kitchen. Simple, yet very effective on my mood for the day.

4. Painted, pedicured, toenails. The night before I went into labor with The Child, I begged The Husband to take me for a pedicure. All I wanted as I birthed my child were cute toenails to focus on. We went to a movie instead. Perhaps that is why it took so long to birth him, I was angry at my ugly toes.

5. When The Child calls Daddy by his first name. There is nothing funnier than hearing a little 3yr old yell down the stairs, summoning his father by his first name. Makes me laugh every time.

6. When something I expect to not be done, is actually done. For instance, the bathtub emptied and toys put away after The Child's bath. Or the toothpaste cap replaced. Or coming down the stairs after The Child is in bed and finding out that The Husband has picked up the hurricane of toys in the living room. It is those little things, that seem so unimportant that are the most impacting. *Hint, hint:)

Ok. YOUR turn!!!

Mom @ http://www.glori-ah.blogspot.com/

Tracy @ http://palmeroni.blogspot.com/

Kim @ http://www.beanmakes3.blogspot.com/

Trish @ http://trish-walker.blogspot.com/

Becky @ http://www.beckywspot.blogspot.com/

Oh boy. It looks like I only have 5. How pathetic is that?

Leave a comment on this post if you want to be tagged :)

Cheers!

2009-06-10T12:57:00.004-06:00

Bah. Some weeks I feel like super blogger, extra creative, bursting with words, awesome Mom. Then other weeks I feel like there is nothing that I can write that is witty, creative, or cool.

Oh look. It's Wednesday...can I just post a bunch of random pictures of The Child and call it a "Wordless Wednesday" post?

Sigh.

Probably not, I do not wish to anger you, my readers, my Faithful Few. I know you hang on to every single word that I type, like it was the last breath you could take, or the last drop of vodka for your cosmo.... what? Cosmos?! Who drinks those girly drinks anyways...

Ahem.

This past week has been one that I feel like could have written something amazing everyday, as it was a very full week. I discovered things about people that I never knew, learned that there really is something called Hypnobirthing (talk to me in person if you really want to know what I think), and I had two grown women who I've looked up to my whole life, weep on the phone to me, leaning on me for encouragement and love. Talk about a heavy reversal of roles!

My favorite part of the week, I have to say, was participating in a Mother's Blessing. Forget Baby Showers and their ridiculous games (Clothespin game.. the worst!!!). That event has impacted me for the rest of my life. What a treasure and honor to initiate a mother into her journey of labor and birth. To feed her words of wisdom, encouragement, love, joy and tears. (Tears as in the drops the come from you eyes when you are an emotional mess. Not tears as in ripping. That might come later in her journey. I am currently sending her stretchy vibes!) Don't even get me started on the most delicious chocolate cake that we devoured (among other delicacies) after the Blessing was complete. Actually, I would say that the food was a very important part of the Blessing. We fed our spirits, souls... and then our belly's. We were full in every aspect.

Being around such amazing and powerful women caused me to remember and love the important women in my own life. It's amazing how memories can be invoked with food.

Yes.

Food. Or beverage.

For as long as I could remember, one of my Grandma's most favored beverages (at least the one she would drink in the open) was club soda with lemon. I always thought it was gross. Hello. Where is the sugar?!? I'm not sure when my own Mother started partaking in the beverage, whether it was before or after Grandma passed away. But slowly it started to grow on me too. Almost like we were honoring one of our small memories of her every time we opened a can of ice cold, Club Soda. Enjoying it thoroughly with lemon and ice, on a very hot, summers day.

So here's to Grandma... I miss her more than I allow myself to think about.

And also to my Mother, whom I also miss more than I allow myself to think about.

Good thing she's only in Hawaii, and shortly we will be together again, enjoying on of these on a very hot, summers day.

How Could You....?

2009-06-03T00:10:00.002-06:00

...ever say "NO" to this face?!?!

Oh, wait. I just did.*

*I definitely did not just say "NO" to a second piece of ice-cream cake just to get an awesome pouty picture.

Seriously? What kind of Mother would do that?!?!

Not Me Messy Monday

2009-06-01T10:27:00.005-06:00

Since I was a child, Sunday morning was always hectic. There has been very few Sunday mornings in my lifetime that were relaxed and lazy, unless we skipped church, which we would NEVER do. Sunday morning has always been full of yelling, running around, getting everyone organized and into the car... off to church we go... one big ~~happy~~ family, right?!

This past Sunday morning, I had decided to definitely not skip church. The Husband had to play drums and had to be there early in the morning for practice, and stay until the last note was sung. He did not call me just before the first service to say that he could come pick us up in between services. I did not agree to that plan, knowing full well that I only had an hour to get myself and The Child ready.

If you know me at all, you know that I am definitely the most on time and punctual person. Ahem.

So our Sunday morning turned from a relaxing, pajama morning, into the Sunday mornings of my childhood. I did not proceed to hop in the shower, leaving The Child completely unattended... downstairs... to not do whatever he pleased. I definitely do not do this on a regular basis.

Just as I was finishing up in the shower, The Child entered the bathroom, without pajama bottoms.

Me: "Hi sweetie, what happened to your pants? Did you go potty?"

The Child: "Yip!"

Me: "Did you go pee in the potty?"

The Child: "Yip!"

He did not proceed to turn around to leave the bathroom, and I did not notice the large smear of poo running up the back of his leg.

Me: "Did you go poop in the potty, too? Or in your pants?"

The Child: "Yip!"

Me: "Well, which one?"

The Child: "Yip!"

Ok, obviously The Child was a plethora of answers and it was at that moment I knew I had to do some Sunday morning poop investigating of my own. I quickly grabbed a towel and headed downstairs. As I ran ~~jiggled~~ my way down the stairs, I was definitely not hit with the wonderful smell of feces half way down the stairs. Awesome. Now to figure out where the culprit poo is hiding. As I rounded the last set of stairs, I did not see the Sunday morning poop disaster. There on the stairs, which are not carpeted, was a large brown spot. Laying on the floor beside the stairs was not The Child's pajama bottoms, full of poop. He had definitely not smeared poop all over the floor in an attempt to take off his bottoms. As I let out a huge sigh of awesomeness, The Child did not clap and laugh at his accomplishment of going poop. I did not carry him at arms length up the stairs to put him in the bath. I previously had not used up all the hot water during my shower and The Child definitely did not sit in a cool ~~cold~~ bath for the next 20 minutes as I attacked the Sunday morning poop disaster.

If you were to walk into my house at that exact moment, you would not have found a naked, crazy haired, frazzled looking Mama, madly scrubbing poop out of the carpet on the stair, and a very happy toddler sitting ~~playing~~ in a cold bath. Nope, not me!

In case you were wondering, we did make it to church on time. Thankfully, The Husband was home a few minutes before schedule and was able to dress and feed the child, while I changed from crazy, naked Mama... into calm, cool, and hawt looking Mama.

I have learned a lesson this week. There are some periods of time that you should just not leave your child alone. Of course, like I mentioned before, I never leave him unattended. One afternoon, I was not upstairs doing my wifely duties of folding laundry, cleaning, organizing, ~~beautifying~~... when I came downstairs to find the child and my kitchen not looking like this:

That is definitely not the Costco sized box of Baking Soda all over my pantry cupboard and kitchen floor. The Child was definitely not being creative and drawing designs with his fingers all in the piles of Baking Soda. *Sigh* It was not me that found the situation so ridiculous that I did not laugh uncontrollably. Or take pictures. Nope, Not me!

PS. Apparently he felt like he had to live up to what is written on his tshirt....as it does not say

"100% good 10% of the time"!

You Say Tomato....

2009-05-23T00:13:00.006-06:00

Today was a glorious day. The sun shone bright and warm, all traces of the blizzard that brought in the week had disappeared. A perfect day to be one with nature...or at least my yard and garden. Today was also the first 'garden sunburn' of the season. I wear my 'red-back' badge of honor proudly, for as of today, in this ridiculous Albertan town, SUMMER HAS ARRIVED!!!!!!!!!

To celebrate, I decided to make one of my favorite summer salads. Every bite engages all the senses and puts them into summer overdrive! Because I love this salad (which really can be eaten as a meal. Tonight we ate it a plenty, with a side of garlic toast.) and I love you, my faithful few, I bestow upon you.... the recipe *takes a grandiose bow*.

The Infamous Tomato Salad, Summer Style.

3 or 4 vine ripened, gorgeous and juicy tomatoes!

Fresh Mozzarella (soft, unripened cheese. You can buy a nice chunk at Costco, you can also find it in tubs- also called Bocconcini)

1/3 cup freshly chopped Basil (no dried spices here!)

1/3 cup thinly (paper thin) sliced Red Onion

2-3 tbl of good quality Balsamic Vinegar (eye ball it)

2-3 tbl of good quality Extra Virgin Olive Oil (eye ball it)

Freshly ground coarse pepper and salt to taste

Slice tomatoes and mozzarella about 1/4" thick. Arrange in layers tomato, mozzarella, and thinly sliced onions on plate. Sprinkle freshly chopped basil over everything. Drizzle entire salad with vinegar and olive oil. Generously top with ground pepper and coarse salt.

EAT & ENJOY!

Note: Don't salt until the moment you are about to eat, as the salt will draw out all the water from the tomatoes and make everything a runny mess. The key ingredient to this salad is the freshest, ripest tomatoes that you can find. If they are not quite ripe enough, let them sit on a window sill until they look too good to eat.

Adventures in City Transit

2009-05-13T15:04:00.006-06:00

Not Me Monday

2009-05-11T18:58:00.003-06:00

You all know how great of a Mother I truly am. Therefore you would also know that I do not leave the house (on regular basis) without toddler ammunition (Sippy, snacks, pull-ups, toys). I definitely would not expect the child to behave normally on a completely empty stomach, and there is absolutely no WAY that I would take him to a grocery store at 12:30pm, lunchless. Of course the last time he ate was not at 7:30am. I did not proceed to 'try and shop anyways', even though it was not my child flailing, grabbing, screaming, whining down each and every isle. We did not stop and load up on hand sanitizer after not believing every scare tactic the media could pull out regarding the Swine Flu. The child did not continue to be on his very worst behavior almost knocking down each bottle. The old, cranky man next to him did not proceed to give me the stink eye... you know the one...."back in our day children were seen and not heard".. yah he didn't dare give me that look. And he definitely did not have the nerve to "TSK TSK SIGH EYE ROLL" me either. Of course being the most respectful of women, I did not give him the "TSK TSK SIGH DOUBLE EYE ROLL- SO THERE!" right back! After not storming away, muttering unmentionables under my breath, I did not make the executive decision to leave the store before I turned around and punched said old man. I did not learn a very important lesson that day... "Always pack snacks". Nope, Not ME!

It was not my well-behaved, reserved child who proceeded to pull down his pants outside while helping me garden this afternoon. I did not plead with him to leave his pants on, and he definitely did not announce "TA-DA TA-DAAAA!!!! WHOOHOOO!!!!" after not removing his pants. Nope, Not my child!

While on our city transit adventure for The Child's 3rd birthday, I did not try to explain to him about germs and how they can sometimes make your tummy sick. He did not proceed to touch every railing, handle, chair, bench insight.... licking his hands and saying "MMMMm Germs!". Of course, I was not THAT mom running after him, not spraying hand sanitizer on everything, including him. Nope, Not ME!

My wonderful child loves music. He loves music so very much that he is almost obsessed. Ok. He is obsessed. He will have one song that he obsesses over for about a month or two, and then (thankfully!) moves on to a new song, a new obsession. His most recent song obsession has been "The Circle of Life" from the Lion King Soundtrack. (Once we thought it would be fun to watch the movie, until I did not have to fast-forward 95% of the show. How do you explain to a 3yr old that the baby lion's daddy just died?!?!? Ummmm... you don't... fast-forward!). Needless to say, he is in absolute love with that song. He does not ask to listen to it on repeat while driving in the car or at home... he does not constantly sing the opening 3 lines over and over and over. Since I have sooooooo much patience, it does not drive me absolutely mad. Especially since the song does not get stuck in my head, constantly, never ending. So of course, when the husband and I were having...ahem..."special-time" one evening, I did not still have that ridiculous song running through my mind. I did not have to try my hardest to not sing it out loud. Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on "special-time" when it is being choreographed in your mind to "The Circle of Life"?! Try it sometime! Turn off the Marvin Gaye and blast Elton John wailing "...It's the Ciiiiiircle of Liiiiiiiiifeeeeee.... and it moooooooves us alllllllllll....."!

Let me know how it goes... minus a few gory details.

Smell that?

2009-05-06T14:56:00.003-06:00

Its change a-brewing!

NO I'm not pregnant.

But there is something different. Something significantly different. Look closely.. it's right in front of your nose. You might have to scroll up a bit.

My blog subtitle has officially changed. No longer am I giving insights from a world with a two and a half year old.

Today, he is officially THREE!

(You thought I had something witty or surprising to blog today, didn't you? Gotcha!)

I am now changing my subtitle and looking forward to this upcoming year of THREE. Birthdays are so wonderful on various levels, but deep down its the reflection that they bring that I love the most. This time THREE years ago, I was still in labor... drawing upon every physical, emotional, mental, spiritual strength to bring my baby into the world. When he finally came the whirlwind of change that swept through that room was huge. Crossing over from maidenhood to motherhood, married to a family, from two to THREE.

Today the child and I honored that journey by embarking on a journey of our own. It was a lot less intense compared to labor, but a journey nonetheless. Watch for the adventure of our journey to be told through some upcoming pictures!

You know you're excited.

Window Wednesday

2009-04-29T23:23:00.007-06:00

Since the snow has melted and Alberta spring has slowly begun to arise (a lot of emphasis on the 'slowly'), we have also slowly began to venture outside. I'm not sure why we don't spend more time outside during the winter, frolicking in the snow, chatting with neighbors... oh wait... -40°C not including windchill... which on the really bad days makes it closer to -60°C. So our time outside, if we go out at all, includes a mad dash from the car (praying it will start) to the house and vice versa. As our wonderful spring slowly arises, everyone on the block comes out of hibernation. Our friendships with our neighbors are definitely 'seasonal' relationships, and I mean that in the most literal of terms!Last week on one of our new, spring adventures... the child and I came to discover a New York sized city of ladybugs in my front flower patch. I have never seen so many ladybugs converging in one area! (I just found out today that ladybugs are a sign of fertility... so I'm sure the Grandparents will be happy to know that I am still fertile). We spent quite a bit of time 'hunting' for ladybugs and enjoying every minute of the beautiful, warm sunshine.

Then THIS happened.

Not just once. For 2 days (maybe 3) in a row it snowed, rained, hailed, snowed, rained, hailed... and the ladybugs went into hiding. The child had a hard time understanding why there were no more ladybugs and even though the weather was not permitting, he still searched for them every time we went outside.

Finally, the steel-cold grip of winter finally released and the ladybugs returned to be hunted by a curious, but gentle, toddler.

The child going in for the 'pick'.

Uh oh, where'd the little ladybug go? Those quick, tricky ladybugs!

There it is!

Oh! There's another one!

Such intensity, such concentration...

This is hard work, Mommy!

But worth EVERY minute of it!

Not Me Monday

2009-04-27T14:12:00.004-06:00

The good mother that I am organized a wonderful walk to the park near our house, with another wonderful mother and her two girls. We did not convince our children that before they could play at the park, the Mommies needed a Starbucks. Of course, there is definitely not a brand new, drive-thru Starbucks blocks away from my house. Once at Starbucks, we did not divert our children from also needing (and whining for) expensive drinks by pulling out the "Super-Duper, Special, Surprise Snack!" that every Mommy has in her bag, somewhere. Perfect for occasions such as this. This diversion was of course made of the most wholesome, healthy, organic ingredients. It definitely did not come in the form of a store-bought, Rice Krispie square, with little M&M's sprinkled on top, full of corn syrup, fructose, glucose, and other refined sugars. While unwrapping said "Super-duper, Special, Surprise Snack!" for the child, I was not tempted to and definitely did not take a bite. This did not send the child into complete hysterics which of course did not include the following:

1. Screaming

2. Thrashing around

3. Hyperventilating

4. Reaching into (aka forcing his hand into) MY MOUTH and grabbing that fateful bite of Rice Krispie square.

5. Putting my half chewed, slimy bite of Rice Krispie square into his own mouth.

6. Did I mention screaming?

Ahhhh Church. That wonderful place we go for an hour and a half (sometimes two!) of free baby-sitting. OOps. I mean.. to learn about God and his love and to pray or something.

Ahem.

While sitting in church and not enjoying my child free time, I did not gently nudge the husband to have him put his arm around me. I definitely do not treat Church like a date. He turned and smiled, quickly lifting his arm to place it around my shoulders. He did not miscalculate the space between us, and while lifting his arm he most definitely did not drive his elbow SMACK into my forehead. He did not start apologizing profusely while we tried to stifle our laughter (and my shock from the pain). I was not completely embarrassed when I glanced at the row behind me to find them not laughing, too. Of course, the preacher was definitely not preaching about love and marriage this fateful Sunday. Nope, not at all.

My son generally does not get mistaken to be a girl. Apparently 'long-ish' hair on any kid means they are a girl. Right. Forgot about those rules. During a regular trip to the grocery store, we did not have some sweet (yet ignorant) little ol'lady pat my SON on the head while not saying "Oh, what a sweet little girl!".

As she turned to walk away, my son definitely did not say loud and proud: "No. I'm a BOY!"

Flashback Friday's RETURN!

2009-04-18T00:31:00.002-06:00

It's not quite Friday anymore here, but it still is in so many other parts of the world that I am defying Mountain Time. Flashback Friday's have RETURNED!

Every so often when my soon to be 3yr old is driving me crazy... I find myself picking up my pregnancy/baby journal that I kept for him and reading past entries. They bring me back to that place.. deep inside the labyrinth of pregnancy, the place of unknowing, excitement and anticipation (and even a little fear!) to remind me that I still love my child. Ok. That sounds bad. But if you're child is anywhere near the age of 3, you know what I mean. Yes. I will always love my child. But there are moments when I don't feel like liking him. Really, even in those moments, if I really think about it, I'm still brimming over the top with love and adoration for him. Its my own issues that cloud those moments, my impatience, my expectations, my short temper, my inability to draw upon that deep well of love and be present in each moment as good or bad as they are. I find by reading entries that I wrote over 3 years ago, changes how I look at him and myself in these present, crazy moments. These entries ground me.

April 21, 2006

My lil'beano,

Well the 10 day countdown has begun. 9 more days until you are due. When do you think you will come out? Everyday I get more and more excited. Last night I was laying in bed and all I wanted was to hold you. I am looking so forward to cuddling and nuzzling you. To have you sleep next to me and I can watch your face change and grow. And I am definitely ready to be done with pregnancy. I want to be small again and to sleep on my tummy. Although, once my milk comes in that might not be very comfortable.

Your Auntie Kim has been here for almost a week now. She has been such a tremendous help. Every morning I wake up and the dishes are done and the living room clean, lots of little things like that, that I completely need and appreciate. She has also been wonderful company for me. Your Dad doesn't understand how we can just sit and talk for hours upon hours and then do it again the next day. I guess it is kinda funny when you think about it. But we don't seem to run out of things to say. Yesterday, it was really warm outside, so we decided to take a walk to 7-eleven to get Slurpee's. I don't think we or I anticipated just how long and tiring that it would be. We walked a few blocks, and I was ready to lie down. But I kept pressing on. The Slurpee was sure good and worth the walk. Although, once we got home I started feeling pretty sick and nauseous. I didn't really eat or drink much before we left and so I think the combination of that, hot hot sun, and pure liquid sugar (Slurpee) did me in. I hate feeling nauseous, too. Yuck. Plus that night we were having our whole small group over for a BBQ. Your Dad bought a BBQ the other week and has been inviting people over left, right, and centre. Guess the combination of the fire, steel and meat makes him feel more manly. heehee :)

So it definitely was not a lot of fun for me to have company and feel so awful. But I just laid in bed and Kim rubbed my belly, and once I had some dinner, I did start to feel better. But there was a part of me that was a little concerned that I was going to start labor. But everything seems fine now.

Your Auntie Kim has helped me get motivated to pack my bag for the hospital, so yesterday I made a nice list of all the things we will all need. The people that lived in our house before we moved in left some luggage, so I have to clean it out soon and start packing. I bought a couple of tank-tops and comfy pj's for after the birth to wear in the hospital.

I also started my (well "your") diaper service yesterday. Your Dad and I have decided to try cloth diapers with you. So we will see how it goes. The company is called "Happy Nappy" and they deliver clean diapers and liners to you, and pick up your dirty ones, so you don't have to wash them. The little diapers are so cute, and soft. If I were a little baby, I think I would enjoy them. So hopefully you do.

Everything is coming together so nicely, and I am so excited for the day you decide to join us out here. I really have no intuition if you are a boy or girl, so its going to be quite the surprise. Either way you will have so much love, attention, and affection... it doesn't really matter:)

I love you so much already:)

Come soon lil'bean!

xoxo

Mommy

It's Britney, B*tch!

2009-04-09T10:26:00.003-06:00

Compromise

2009-04-01T11:06:00.007-06:00

Approximately 9 years ago, my hubby and I were in pre-marital counseling. Of course at the ripe age of 19 & 21, we really didn't think we 'needed' it, but to make everyone else happy we faithfully attended our sessions. After a few compatibility tests, our councillor/pastor informed us that throughout our marriage we would have two major issues that would constantly be a source of tension for us. Only two? Wow, I can deal with that, I thought. I figured that we were doing pretty good at this counseling thing and looking for my gold star. So bracing ourselves, we asked what those two issues would be.

1. Our Families

2. Food

What?!! Food?!!! Ok, I get Family. Who doesn't have an issue integrating into another persons family and then adapting to how they were raised. Family is an obvious. But FOOD?!?!?!! How in the world would that be a problem? We both love to eat... end of story. At that point we both put that one behind us, chuckling as we walked out of the office.

Now, after being married for almost 8 years, I am constantly haunted by that day in our councilors office. Surprisingly enough, 'food' has been quite the issue for us. In one of my earlier blogs, I talked about how my genes blessed me with the ability to store fat... and quite well in fact. If anyone has ever met my husband, they know it is impossible for him to gain weight. My hubby is a male version of the girls we love to hate. You know the ones... they eat whatever they want: chocolate, fast food, ice cream, creamy pasta and HEAPS of it... and complain that they can never gain weight. Oh boo hoo.

Our first year of marriage was a total example of our "Food" issue. I was so happy to not need to fit into a wedding dress anymore that I ate right along with my hubby, as much and whatever I wanted. I also gained like 15lbs.... which soon turned into 30lbs and eventually into over 40lbs. And the hubby? He lost weight. YUP! LOST WEIGHT!!! And guess who was to blame for NOT feeding him enough? (That would be a good example of our "Family" issues... ).

Since that time I have learned how to eat to maintain a healthy, BMI friendly figure... but its tough and I have to really work at it. Of course I have my binge days as I am a true believer in balance and enjoyment. In the process of learning what to and what not to eat... I have changed what and how I cook. I am the main cook in the family, so by default that gives me the authority to pick and choose what we will or will not be eating. This has not sat well with the hubby. He loves his red meat, white bread, cheez whiz, cream sauces, deep fried & battered food along with ice cream and various sweets. Don't get me wrong, he eats veggies and loves salads too. But after so long of eating chicken, turkey, fish, veggies and more veggies... he finally had enough. We had a nice, long, loud 'discussion' about our "Food" issues and finally came to a compromise.

I would give him a small portion of the budget and he could pick whatever he wanted to cook, on the weekends.

At first, it was really hard for me to relinquish control of the kitchen. If you know me, you know I control the kitchen (among other things). But the payoff of not having to cook 3 days a week... well, it was kind of worth it. And so far, it hasn't been that tough to lay on the couch or play with the child while he slaves away... it has given me a perspective of what it must be like for him...the other 5 days of the week :)

He has done really well so far, making some fairly tasty (not all calorie conscious) meals. It has given him some sense of control while creating an opportunity to cook what he's really been craving. So for my "Not So Wordless Wednesday" post, I present you with a few snapshots of the last meal he created.... with a little help from Costco ;) It tasted wonderful as I was starving after teaching a class all day... Creamy pasta & garlic toast is the ultimate comfort food!

(And of course, a large salad to make me feel good about eating creamy pasta and bread.)

If you are lucky, maybe you can come have a weekend meal with us sometime!

We love visitors!!

Wordless Wednesday

2009-03-17T23:14:00.005-06:00

Not Me Monday- Returns!

2009-03-16T22:56:00.003-06:00

Being such an amazing mother, who keeps the house in tip-top shape all the time, I was definitely not too lazy to wipe the kitchen table (which had seen a long day of crumbs, rice, almond butter and the like). I definitely did not just have the bright idea of vacuuming the top of the table while vacuuming the rest of the floor. Of course I didn't do it and it definitely did not work as well as wiping it with a clean, damp cloth.

It was not me, the perfect calorie counting mother, who dipped into her child's potty treats on multiple occasions in the last few weeks. It wasn't me who ate them all... more than once, and I haven't had to return to the store a few times to replenish the stash. It was not my perfect, well behaved son who told me to "buy some more!" when I told him they were all gone.

There is a mysterious Rice Krispy square thief in our house, because it was not me who helped the husband polish off half a pan.

Hello Again.

2009-03-11T13:51:00.004-06:00

So apparently it's been a month since I blogged. How awful is that? It feels like time is going way too fast sometimes. Yet, when I look outside... it still feels like Christmas (it doesn't help that the child is obsessed with listening to "Little Drummer Boy" on repeat. Everyday.)

My only real excuse for not blogging in a month would be the fact that my life is THAT boring.... there has definitely been a lack of creative material. Not saying that the child hasn't been amusing or done and said some pretty ridiculous things. Or that the husband has made me shake my head on countless occasions. It's just that none of those things were really all that 'blog-worthy'....

Although, I suppose the child who is not even 3 yet and talks to me like a 13 year old could possibly be 'blog-worthy'.

"Leave! Go away, Mom!"

"Not all done. No, I don't think so!"

"I love TV!"

Or perhaps the husband who is desperately craving an entire slab of cow for dinner and comes home to vegetarian chili...and just picks at it because I couldn't telepathically read his cravings. That could perhaps be 'blog-worthy'.

I suppose I could have even blogged about how I escaped by myself for a weekend to visit my bestest friend. How I enjoyed a 2 1/2 hr lay-over in Vancouver filled with Bellini's (note the plural), lunch, and Edward.... alone. Did I mention I was alone? Yes, that was definitely 'blog-worthy'.

I could even blog about how in exactly TWO WEEKS I will be in Vegas, with my fabulous hubby (I've forgiven him for not eating Vegetarian) and fabulous friends being foot-loose and fancy-free! If anything is 'blog-worthy'- that would be it. I could mention how we have been married for almost 8 years and this is the first time we are going away, together, on a plane, to vacation and not visit family, since our honeymoon? How pathetic is that? Did I mention that I am not going to act my age? I suppose I will have much much much more to blog about once I return. Oh just you wait for the multitude of stories.... I think I will ignore the old statement of

"What happens in Vegas...."

Yes, my life is not filled with much to blog about. I know my mother's answer to that would be to have more babies. I can even hear her saying it.

"Your life is boring. You need more challenges. Have more babies".

Why is it that grandparents want you to have your own soccer team's worth of babies? Perhaps that is another blog.

Until then, click on the link below and enjoy this hilarious article all about Moms. If I could really blog, I would have thought of this article first.

50 Moms We Love to Hate

Wordless Wednesday

2009-02-11T13:12:00.009-07:00

Ok. So I know it's not Wednesday. Obviously this is not wordless either. Not sure why I left the title as "Wordless Wednesday"... but I did. If you have an idea for a better one, then leave a comment. If it is any consolation... I have been working on this post since Wednesday. My initial idea was to dedicate a post to all the things I love, a picture montage in honor of Valentines Day. After about an hour of uploading pictures, I realized that I love... a lot. My love inspired post was becoming a really long, and slightly ridiculous. So instead I've decided to post pictures of the things I DON'T love (in no particular order)... much more efficient.

Melt

2009-02-06T23:26:00.002-07:00

Today, I experienced one of the most pivotal moments in a Mother's life. The most precious, sweet, beautiful, melting kind of moment.

While getting my son ready for his afternoon nap, he gave me a big hug and said for the very first time... with no coaching... all on his own:

"I love you, Mom".

*Melt*

He has been forgiven...

2009-02-05T08:13:00.003-07:00

The husband left me and the child for 12 days for a work trip to Chicago. A work trip that included staying at a really nice hotel, eating out all the time, limo service, shopping, exploring downtown Chicago, going to movies, oh.... and I think he did some sort of work or something.

Needless to say, forgiveness was extended when he came home with THIS:

Just to make sure that he was guaranteed a spot in heaven, the bag was filled with lovely little things from Victoria Secret.

*I am making a vow as of this moment, for all of the wonderful, world wide web to know and hold me accountable.

This bag will NEVER hold any of the following:
1. Diapers or Pull-ups
2. Sippy Cups
3. Fishy Crackers, cookies, raisins, cheerios, etc.
4. Toy cars or dinosaurs

Dribble

2009-02-02T22:57:00.016-07:00

If you have a Facebook account, I'm sure you've been tagged in the latest Note craze of listing 25 random things about yourself. I decided to go against the grain, boycott the Facebook trend, and post these fabulous tidbits of information on my blog.

(Mostly because my creative Blog juice is running dry... I am ashamed to post such Dribble... please forgive me, oh faithful readers).

1. My name has not always been "Skyla". My mother whom is very indecisive (even until this day) named me "Sarah" at birth. After living with this name for a year she decided that she didn't really like it, and came up with "Skyla". Perhaps this was around the time that she stole carpet from a dumpster and almost got arrested.
Oh... oops... this is supposed to be facts about me... right.

2. I love to eat dough. Cookie, bread, pastry, biscuit, dumplings... it doesn't matter.
I'm not sure if various types of batter would be included in the dough category, but I love to eat that too. Pancake batter is my favorite, next muffin, brownie, cake, cheesecake... I think you get the point and are probably gagging right now.
My favorite job when I worked at McD's as a youngin' was to fill the muffin trays with the delicious batter, and then lick the scoop.
You know you want a muffin now, don't you?

3. All I learned about cooking, I learned from Martha Stewart.
Ok, scratch that. 85% of what I know about cooking I learned from Martha and the Food Network Family... 15% I learned from my mother. 10% being of what NOT to do and the other 5% how to guilt-trip unwilling, picky eaters into eating what you put in front of them. Because I was such a goodie-goodie growing up I always ate what was put in front of me... (except Sunday morning mandatory oatmeal. *GAG*. I love oatmeal now, but there was something about that big pot of bubbling, lava-goo that I refused to touch as a child. I later learned that my mother never measured the dry oatmeal and water, rather just guesstimated.
We really understood the meaning of "Sticks to your ribs").

4. Even though my family CONTINUOUS groaned every time they would walk into the living room while I was watching the Food Network...
they NEVER complained about the food I was able to put on the table.
Ok... maybe the one time when I tricked them into eating Portabello Mushroom Meatballs, convincing them they were just a softer form of beef.
Didn't fly.

5. I will try anything once, or maybe twice.
For example.. I recently ate (or tried to) chicken feet. Probably won't do it again.
I have tried to like smoked oysters on many occasions... and have repeatedly tried to eat them.
Every time I feel like I have licked the bottom of the moldy, ocean floor.

6. I can taste/smell mold on food a MILE away.... and will usually just throw it out. Too many times I watched my mother shave the mold off the cheese. I cut chunks away, and sniff the orange out of it until I know that all spores have been eliminated.

7. I am a confessed slave to the expiration dates on food.

8. I've talked a lot about food.... perhaps this is why I go to the gym 3 times a week.

9. Pregnancy tests are the one thing I fear. It is so hard for me to handle the fact that this little strip that I pee on controls my future, my destiny.
It has the power to change my life forever in only 2 minutes, and for under $10.
There is nothing else in this life that can do that.

10. I really really really love having one child.
Yet I know for his sake that it would be good to have a brother or sister. I feel a lot of people's expectations would be let down if I chose to be done.
Ultimately, I am waiting for the "I am ready" moment, or at least an unexpected surprise...or the ability to accept and want change.

11. Ironically, for someone who doesn't want heaps of babies and was never one of those amazing "babysitter" type girls...My life has brought me to the place of teaching Childbirth classes and attending people's births as a Doula. Never in a million years would I have known this would be what I would "do".
But I LOVE it.

12. Recently I have thought a lot about over-procreation and its negative affects on our planet.

13. I love celebrity gossip and confess to be very shallow in that area.

14. At this point in my life I am very content with the amount of close friendships that I have.
If I was never to make another friend from this point on, I would be completely OK with that.
It has been a long time since I felt "un-loved".

15. Sometimes I wonder if I am a good kisser.
I've only ever kissed one man.... he says I'm good... but what if he has to say that because I am his wife? It's like the parents who tell their kids that they are amazing at singing, because they have to. Then those poor poor souls try out for American Idol and their whole world comes crashing in on them.
I wonder if I would get a golden ticket if there was a Kissing Idol?

16. I always wash, tone, and moisturize my face before bed.
I really can't handle sleeping with make-up on... at all. In desperate circumstances when my normal products are not available,
I have used hand soap and lotion, just to avoid the crusty morning face.

17. I think I have really nice teeth and am so grateful that I never wore braces.
My mother tells me this is because she ate egg shells while she was pregnant with me.
Why waste what the chicken gives you?

18. In a perfect world, life would begin for me at 11am and end at 1am.
I am a night owl and find the early bird to be extremely annoying.
Just go find the worm and let me sleep!

19. I have a high-maintenance Starbucks order. Rarely do I send anyone to get me something without having to write it down.
If I am going to pay over $5 for a drink, I want it to be complicated. Triple grande, non-fat, sugar-free vanilla, extra hot, Caramel Machiatto.
It's really not that difficult.

20. I am slightly obsessed about finding the best deal for my money, for anything.
I have been known to walk around the entire mall, checking out my options, before making a purchase. Somehow I am convinced that there will be something better, cheaper somewhere else. I will also shop at 3 or 4 different grocery stores because each one carries something that the other doesn't, usually for a better price.

21. In the past 5 years, I have lost over 40lbs... twice.
That's like losing both Paris & Nicole!

22. My favorite, all time movie is Empire Records.

23. The only person that can really make me mad/upset/disappointed is my husband.
Friends and family members don't cause such reactions in me as much as they used to. I feel like I have learned to always put myself in other person's shoes, looking at various situations from their perspective. Even if the husband does something ridiculous, I don't feel like I get mad as quickly as I used to.
Much more effective to just talk about it.
I know, I'm so mature.

24. One of the best sayings that I heard this past year was:
"If you think the grass is greener on the other side, it's about time you fertilized your own lawn!"

25. Sometimes I wish I was one of those uber cool people who don't like TV, Internet, playing on social networking sites, texting, or top 40 radio, and of course know all the hip underground music, knit their own beatnik hats, and have something smooth to say all the time.
Instead I love TV (mostly reality shows), spend too much time on the computer, love Brittney Spears and Rhianna, regularly lust after designer shoes and Lululemon hoodies while having an uncanny knack to be sarcastic a bit more than desired.

*Disclaimer: Even though my Mother may not have been the most naturally, domestically inclined, she was always the Mother on the block that was the most fun, crazy, warm and welcoming.

Wordfull Wednesday

2009-01-21T14:20:00.003-07:00

Have you ever seen that movie, "The Story of Us?", with Michelle Pfieffer and Bruce Willis? If not, it is a must see! Especially if you are in any sort of long-term relationship... particularly marriage. The basic synopsis is about a couple who have been married for 15yrs and are going through the cracks and groans that it takes to make a marriage work. There is one part of the movie that I was reminded about the other day. Katie (Michelle Pfieffer) is swamped with normal "Mom" things (work, school, kids, house, etc) and is finding all these little things that her husband Ben (Bruce Willis) does, or doesn't do... are driving her to her breaking point. One of these things is that he continuously forgets to fill the windshield washer fluid in their car. The light constantly beeps and flashes, reminding her of one more thing that is driving her crazy. Really, its not that big of a deal, low windshield washer fluid. But when you are already full of grievances it can be the proverbial "cherry on top of your s#%t sundae".

Not only does our windshield wiper fluid get low on a regular basis (melting snow and lots of sunshine makes for dirty windows), but our emergency brake light has been flashing on and off for quite some time now. I do not do cars. I just don't. I know this sounds so non-feminist of me, and its not that I CAN'T deal with the car, or that I don't have some knowledge, I just don't "get" the world of cars. Put a full fridge in front of me and a stove, and I will make you a most delicious meal. I can get that stubborn stain out of your shirt, and I know which clothes to put in the dryer and which to hang. I pay all the bills on time, make the dentist and doctor appointments, and even can tell you the difference between a low-grade and high-grade fever.

But I have no CLUE what a mechanic means when he tells me anything about my car. Even though my Dad used to make me stand outside with him whenever he did anything to fix my car. I know a few things, but mechanics speak this odd language that goes over my head, every time. Plus, I feel like they talk like this on purpose because they assume I'm a girl, who doesn't know anything. Maybe I should wear grease covered overalls next time I take the car in, instead of lululemons. Bottom line, the whole encounter makes me feel dumb. Which in turn, makes me nervous and then I make quick, rash decisions like "Sure, take out the whole motor and replace it, if that's what needs to be done! I guess so!". Then I come home and the husband is like "So? How did the car appointment go? Did they do this, that, and the other thing?" and I have to mumble some jumble about something some mechanic said that I really don't remember because I was chasing my child all around the waiting room, and feeling bad because I totally didn't realize I was supposed to do "This, that and the other thing".
Because I DON'T DO CARS.

Our car needed an oil change so I called to book an appointment and mentioned to the lady about our flashing light. She in turn tells me that if it is flashing, I shouldn't be driving my car. WHAT?!?!? Great. Just Great. So now my car is screwed, and on top of it my husband is out of town for two weeks. So not only am I stuck at home with a crap car, I have to deal with it by myself.. with the child in tow. Plus, the next appointment that I could get to get it fixed was a WEEK away!!! Then I go to the almighty Google and type in "Flashing Emergency Brake Light + Volkswagen". All the forums I found told me that it was my Brakes, and they were probably shot, and I should NOT be driving. Extra great!

After eating a lot of chocolate, I realize that it can't be THAT bad because I have been driving it for some time now, and nothing has gone wrong. It hasn't stalled, made weird noises, or quit. So now I'm just worrying because the random receptionist lady and Google told me to. Guess I have to get it together and deal with it. Which I did. Thankfully it was only low brake fluid, nothing as dramatic as I had first thought. That night, I called the husband (who is sitting in his super fancy hotel room, watching full cable, and enjoying a full belly of restaurant food) to tell him of my drama day, how I despise dealing with the car and that I would really appreciate it if he would just take care of it from now on. He proceeded to tell me that he knew the brakes were fine and I shouldn't have been so freaked out... and that he would take care of the car. I'm glad HE knew the brakes were fine...

So just as the husband thoroughly enjoys and appreciates a hot, delicious meal at the end of a long, hard work day. I appreciate a car with no flashing lights, a full tank of gas, and an occasional upgrade to a newer model. ;)

I don't want to spoil "The Story of Us" for you if you haven't watched it, but in the end the windshield wiper fluid does get filled and love prevails.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-01-14T16:22:00.002-07:00

Belated NMM

2009-01-13T14:33:00.005-07:00

(did not...read: might have, probably...most certainly did. "Not me"...read: ok, so it was.)

My son is at such a wonderful age. How can I say two and a half is wonderful? Easy! This is the age where he is smart enough to communicate what he wants/doesn't, likes/dislikes, etc. But he's not quite at the age to understand how everything in life 'works'. Therefore I am capitalizing on this small window of time, where I can get away with A LOT of things. This belated NMM post is dedicated to the amazing trickery that a Mother can pull off. You would think I trained to be a magician or something.

*When Daddy is dutifully reading the child his bedtime story, and the child whines for more Apple juice in his "Nummies" (aka Sippy cup), I do not say "Ok!", grab the Nummies and walk out of the room and around the corner. I do not silently count to ten and then walk back in the room and say "Here you go, more Apple juice". Of course, the child does not think that I went all the way downstairs, poured in more Apple juice and brought it back to him. Magical I tell you! Nope, NOT ME!

*When the child is eating his wonderful home grown oatmeal for breakfast, and asks for more Maple Syrup... (even tho I already added plenty)... I do not go to the fridge, grab the Maple Syrup, and pretend to pour (with sound effects of course) more into his oatmeal. The child definitely thinks that I just added tons more syrup, even tho the cap never came off. Of course, it tastes WAY better now with all that magical Maple Syrup! Nope, NOT ME!

*When I tell the child to have one more bite, I do not keep saying, "Ok good! Now just one more bite!" repeatedly until all of his food is gone. How does he really know what "One more" is? Nope, NOT ME!

*I definitely do not feed my child McDonald's and he most definitely does not love the kids Chicken Nugget meal. Lately they have been giving out these ridiculous, evil looking Bionicle toys for boys. I did not tell the child that they were Master Chefs and that the large, scary knife looking thing was for chopping up all the great, yummy vegetables that were going into a soup. Now, when he plays with this evil Bionicle toy, he does not say "Chop the peppers, chop chop! Chop the carrots, chop chop!". Nope, NOT ME!

Wordless Wednesday

2009-01-07T20:17:00.002-07:00

What I learned on my Christmas Vacation:

2009-01-06T18:04:00.006-07:00

First of all, my sincerest apologies for being such a slacker in the blog department. I know I've really let all my readers down (all three of you) and it doesn't matter that Christmas is a crazy time, there is no excuse for not blogging. Riiiiggggghhhht. So a very Merry belated Christmas, Happy New Year, and if you're really upset, email me your phone number... and you'll receive a very special consolation prize:

My version of Auld Lang Syne.. done in the style of Boney M*!

Road trips to visit with family & friends are always a great time to learn about not only yourself, but also about the people you are with. They can be great times of fun and laughter, and also of trial and tribulation. Yes, tribulation. 9hrs in a car with a 2.5yr old = tribulation.

Here are some very important life lessons that I learned while on Christmas Vacation:

1. Rental cars do not come equipped with Winter tires.

2. Clenching your butt cheeks because you are trying not to visibly freak out (always maintaining a calm, cool, collected demeanor) over the icy, wintery road conditions does not give you buns of steel. Just sore buns.

3. Tim Horton's coffee is not coffee. It is a disgusting beverage that tastes like ashtray and cardboard. I don't care how much French Vanilla you put in it... its gross. There's a reason why it's so cheap, people!!

4. There is such a thing as too much "Raffi".

5. Snowed in with 19 people, 11 being children under the age of 14, in a small-ish house... is really not as bad as it sounds. Especially since the 11 children rarely left the one play room...except when we unlocked the door.... waaaaait a minute....

6. Last minute, guilt-induced, Christmas shopping done by my hubby, produces the best (and most expensive!) presents.

7. Rental cars and border crossings are not a good combination.

8. When your child is ready to be potty-trained, they will just 'get it'. It doesn't matter where you are, what you are doing, or how un-stable their environment is. All of the sudden they're in big boy underwear all the time...

9. Chicken feet are something I will never likely eat again.

10. My life is blessed with some really amazing and beautiful people. You know who you are. And if you don't, email me your phone number and you will receive the consolation prize noted above*.

Not Me Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-17T12:02:00.005-07:00

(did not...read: might have, probably...most certainly did. "Not me"...read: ok, so it was.)

*I did not have one too many (okay, maybe two, or three... ) glasses of wine while watching my favorite TV shows Thursday night. I did not then completely crash into bed that night, fast and deep asleep within seconds. I most definitely did not sleep through the crying and wailing coming through the baby monitor at 3am... and it did not wake up my poor husband who does not have to be up at 5am. He did not try and rouse me from my wine induced sleep, and I definitely did not mumble something incoherently about "turning off the alarm". He did not then have to get out of bed and tend to the child... bringing him back to our bed to calm him down, and then putting him back into his own bed. I did not sleep through all of this. Of course, I remembered ALL of this the next day.... ummm no, not really. NOT ME!

*I did not leave my son unattended to climb up 14 cement stairs by himself, while I stood at the top pretending to leave in order to get him to hurry up. I was not texting my husband at the same time. I did not turn around and I did not watch my son lose his balance and tumble/roll/fall down at least 10 of the stairs. I did not run, swearing, trying to stop the awfulness. He is a resilient boy, but I am not still shaking. NOT ME!

*I did not mistake my husbands coffee cup for my own and take a big gulp. I did not instinctively spit the gulp back into the cup after realizing my mistake. His coffee is full of sugar, and tastes disgusting. I did not forget to dump said cup of coffee, and I most certainly did not forget to warn him of my addition to his coffee. It did not take me till later in the day to realize my mistake when I was clearing the table and saw the empty cup. Ooops. NOT ME!

GIRLS NIGHT!!!!

BAH!!!

2008-12-16T00:09:00.003-07:00

I have been totally slacking in the blog department. Life has been too busy lately...it feels like my moments on the computer are few and far between. I wish there was some crazy technology that connected my computer to my thoughts... then I could just 'think' my amazing blog entries.

I have a Not Me Monday in the works.... It might just be a Tuesday or Wednesday edition.

Someone can please make it stop snowing now.

No, seriously.

Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-10T15:21:00.004-07:00