So you can probably tell from the headline that my morning has been... not that good. My alarm went off at 7, I hit the snooze button and layed there for a while, just drifting. You know, when you're awake but you let your mind drift into that dream-like state. Eventually, I rolled over and put on my glasses, dragged my sluggish legs over the side of the bed, and glanced at the clock. Holy crap! 7:38am! The boys are supposed to be at the bus-line at 8! ACK!
Ran downstairs, flipped on the boys' light and yelled, "WAKE UP! Mom slept in! You have 15 minutes to get ready!" Mass panic and hysteria ensued - the boys were SO not impressed with me. Ran back upstairs to start getting their lunches ready while the boys frantically dressed and brushed their teeth. As I was making sandwiches and they were shoveling down their breakfast, I looked at the clock, 7:50, and finally had to admit defeat. "Boys, how about I just drive you to school?" Everyone let out a sigh of relief.
So they made it to school exactly on time at 8:30, and I went to the Timmy's drive-thru for a large mocha and muffins for the two babies. (Lena hates it when I call her my baby but I told her all my kids will be my babies even when they are old and wrinkly.)
So I guess this morning wasn't a total write-off. At least I got some Timmy's out of it. Thanks for the gift card, Aunt Stevie!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
I tawt I taw a puddy-tat!
I did, I did! In my bathroom, watching me put on makeup! Isn't he so cute? He looks so tiny!
(Pabby, AKA Pablo, is now a LOL Cat! The kids helped come up with the caption.)
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Pish-Yer-Pants Sunday
If these don't get you giggling, nothing will...
Advertising gone wrong...
Now for some THAT GUYs...
(Can't see THAT GUY? Look harder...)
Advertising gone wrong...
Now for some THAT GUYs...
(Can't see THAT GUY? Look harder...)
Going to the park
(I finally figured out how to use the self-timer option!)Last week, when we were blessed enough to have beautiful warm weather, I took the two little ones to the nearby park. Pulled Ryder on his little purple sled (Lena made sure I knew that was "actually hers when she was a baby" and she was "being kind letting Ryder use it") with Lena beside me. Every so often she'd run up ahead to see how close to the park we were, then she'd run back to my side to give me the update. "Almost there!"
The park was covered with about two feet of crunchy hard snow, which made walking through it a challenge but we were up for it. As soon as we got there, Ryder jumped up and headed for the slide (he is obsessed with going down slides). Who knew this child was such a maniac? He was going nuts, running around in the snow (or trying to, at least), falling down constantly but getting right back up with a huge grin on his face. We had a great time!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Oooo, the injustice!
As many of you already know, Gunnar is on a AA Atom hockey team (his second year in Atom, first on a AA team), and so next year he moves up to PeeWee. At the Atom level, hard physical contact is not allowed and players are penalized if they do. At the PeeWee level, rough play is allowed, though obvs nothing too bad. There's a couple of guys on his team who are constantly in the penalty box because of rough play. Gunnar, not so much. I mean, I've seen him push players who are slashing at his goalie, things like that, but a real infraction... no.
Well, at his last game (which neither Tyler or I was at due to other commitments, Gunnar went with another family), Gunnar got his first real penalty for rough play. And let me say, it was a doozy. We're talking about a one-game suspension here. But there's a lesson to be learned -- the ref is not always in the right, and there's two sides to every story. Here's what happened, according to Gunnar (and his coach and team manager back him 100% in this).
A player on the opposing team got a break-away and Gunnar raced toward him to intercept the puck. Now, any hockey player who knows his stuff KNOWS that you always keep your head up and your eye on your surroundings, so you don't get blindsided by another player coming at you. But that little guy must have missed that lesson. That guy was coming up to the net by the sideboard and Gunnar came at him like a ton of bricks. Smash! into the sideboard. The kid went down hard, as did Gunnar, and he's screaming and crying that his leg was broken. Pandemonium ensued. Gunnar got sent to the penalty box and was issued an immediate suspension from that game and for the next one, as well.
The player was carried to his own bench, still howling. Everyone is thinking he'd be rushed to the hospital any moment for his "broken leg". Minutes pass, he's quieted down by that point. Next shift, he's back out on the ice, smiling and playing as if nothing had happened! The kid had lied!
At that point, upon seeing this, you'd think the ref would realize what had happened and rescind Gunnar's suspension from both games. NO. So Gunnar had to sit there and watch that little brat skate around, grinning, watching his team get hammered 11-1, knowing that this injustice had occurred but not being able to do anything about it.
His coach and team manager tried their hardest to get the suspension overturned, but unless the team was willing to pay $150, it wasn't going to happen. So Gunnar has to sit out the game tonight. He's still required to show up, but he can't play.
I'm choosing to look at this as fate in play. Who knows, maybe if Gunnar had played tonight he himself would have got an injury. I don't know. He DID deserve a penalty for smashing the kid into the sideboard, but a suspension? No. So there's a lesson there for Gunnar, as well.
Well, at his last game (which neither Tyler or I was at due to other commitments, Gunnar went with another family), Gunnar got his first real penalty for rough play. And let me say, it was a doozy. We're talking about a one-game suspension here. But there's a lesson to be learned -- the ref is not always in the right, and there's two sides to every story. Here's what happened, according to Gunnar (and his coach and team manager back him 100% in this).
A player on the opposing team got a break-away and Gunnar raced toward him to intercept the puck. Now, any hockey player who knows his stuff KNOWS that you always keep your head up and your eye on your surroundings, so you don't get blindsided by another player coming at you. But that little guy must have missed that lesson. That guy was coming up to the net by the sideboard and Gunnar came at him like a ton of bricks. Smash! into the sideboard. The kid went down hard, as did Gunnar, and he's screaming and crying that his leg was broken. Pandemonium ensued. Gunnar got sent to the penalty box and was issued an immediate suspension from that game and for the next one, as well.
The player was carried to his own bench, still howling. Everyone is thinking he'd be rushed to the hospital any moment for his "broken leg". Minutes pass, he's quieted down by that point. Next shift, he's back out on the ice, smiling and playing as if nothing had happened! The kid had lied!
At that point, upon seeing this, you'd think the ref would realize what had happened and rescind Gunnar's suspension from both games. NO. So Gunnar had to sit there and watch that little brat skate around, grinning, watching his team get hammered 11-1, knowing that this injustice had occurred but not being able to do anything about it.
His coach and team manager tried their hardest to get the suspension overturned, but unless the team was willing to pay $150, it wasn't going to happen. So Gunnar has to sit out the game tonight. He's still required to show up, but he can't play.
I'm choosing to look at this as fate in play. Who knows, maybe if Gunnar had played tonight he himself would have got an injury. I don't know. He DID deserve a penalty for smashing the kid into the sideboard, but a suspension? No. So there's a lesson there for Gunnar, as well.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Okay, that was awkward... (Warning: may be TMI for some of you)
There was a woman at Lena's gymnastics the other day that caught my attention. She was extremely fit, like 0.1% body fat (bitch! LOL, that's an inside joke), wearing workout tights and a sports bra. She was racing around after her little guy while trying to help her daughter do the gymnastics stuff and I could see she was getting really frustrated. She told one of the other moms that she'd just called her husband to come down and watch their son so she could concentrate on helping her daughter.
Time went by, I got busy watching Lena and trying to corral my own rambunctious toddler. Suddenly I noticed this guy sitting on the chair beside my own unoccupied one. He looked... familiar. Where the heck did I know this guy from? At the exact moment when it came to me, that woman came over and passed her son into his arms. OMG!! That was her husband! Her husband, who at one time many many years ago (before Tyler, don't worry) was someone I'd had, uh, biblical knowledge of! Shit!!
So there I was freaking out and he chooses that moment to look up, right into my eyes. ACK! I was praying that he wouldn't recognize me (IMO I look nothing like I did way back then), but he did a double take, eyes wide, then we both immediately looked away from each other. He jumped off his chair and went off with his son over to his wife. I hightailed it for the hallway and thank God, my mom arrived just then. So I was able to "keep busy" talking to her. And if my eyes slid in his direction once or twice, well, I was just looking for Lena.
It wouldn't even be so bad if he'd been just a one-night stand, but this guy was an obsession with me back then. All my friends were hot after him but I was the one who snagged him. He drove a white convertible Camaro. He was tanned, buff, rich and older. He had a tattoo on his arm. And to top it all off, his roommate and best friend was dating my best friend so we all always hung out together at their house. Good times, good times... heh.
It didn't last long. My friend and his split up and at that point, we both went our separate ways. Would've been just too awkward and felt disloyal to her to go over there. Plus, I realized over time he was kind of a dick and a player.
So now I'm dreading seeing him again at gymnastics, hopefully he'll feel the same and will stay at home. *knock on wood* Not very mature of me, I know. But how would YOU feel in that situation? Has this ever happened to any of you? How did you handle it?
P.S. THIS is my 100th post! I realized that after I published it and had to come back and add on this PS. I can't believe my 100th post was about this!
Time went by, I got busy watching Lena and trying to corral my own rambunctious toddler. Suddenly I noticed this guy sitting on the chair beside my own unoccupied one. He looked... familiar. Where the heck did I know this guy from? At the exact moment when it came to me, that woman came over and passed her son into his arms. OMG!! That was her husband! Her husband, who at one time many many years ago (before Tyler, don't worry) was someone I'd had, uh, biblical knowledge of! Shit!!
So there I was freaking out and he chooses that moment to look up, right into my eyes. ACK! I was praying that he wouldn't recognize me (IMO I look nothing like I did way back then), but he did a double take, eyes wide, then we both immediately looked away from each other. He jumped off his chair and went off with his son over to his wife. I hightailed it for the hallway and thank God, my mom arrived just then. So I was able to "keep busy" talking to her. And if my eyes slid in his direction once or twice, well, I was just looking for Lena.
It wouldn't even be so bad if he'd been just a one-night stand, but this guy was an obsession with me back then. All my friends were hot after him but I was the one who snagged him. He drove a white convertible Camaro. He was tanned, buff, rich and older. He had a tattoo on his arm. And to top it all off, his roommate and best friend was dating my best friend so we all always hung out together at their house. Good times, good times... heh.
It didn't last long. My friend and his split up and at that point, we both went our separate ways. Would've been just too awkward and felt disloyal to her to go over there. Plus, I realized over time he was kind of a dick and a player.
So now I'm dreading seeing him again at gymnastics, hopefully he'll feel the same and will stay at home. *knock on wood* Not very mature of me, I know. But how would YOU feel in that situation? Has this ever happened to any of you? How did you handle it?
P.S. THIS is my 100th post! I realized that after I published it and had to come back and add on this PS. I can't believe my 100th post was about this!
For shame, Hallmark
I was flipping through the channels today and something on MuchMusic caught my eye. The VJ's were discussing a birthday card that Hallmark has put out; on the front of the card it says "Why so serious?" and shows Heath Ledger as the Joker from The Dark Knight movie. On the inside of the card it reads "Its just your birthday".
Is that not totally in bad taste or what? The VJ's also made a good point -- where do you draw the line when it comes to using posthumous images in advertising and marketing? Should Hallmark have done this? Its been a year since Heath Ledger's death. Images of other dead artists' are still used in advertising, think of Elvis, Marilyn, John Lennon, Jimmy Hendrix. Not saying Heath was at the iconic level they were and are, but you get what I'm saying.
I wonder who has the authority to sign off on this -- Heath's family? Michelle? The movie studio?
I know that I personally was so affected by Heath's death, it honestly felt like a close friend had died when I found out. I know that sounds stupid. Most likely its because he looked so much like my brother. (Funny story about that... I made a comment one time about how hot and sexy I thought Heath was but that he reminded me of someone. When I realized who, I wanted to die of mortification! Ewwwww!!!!)
Anyway, what's your opinion on this?
Is that not totally in bad taste or what? The VJ's also made a good point -- where do you draw the line when it comes to using posthumous images in advertising and marketing? Should Hallmark have done this? Its been a year since Heath Ledger's death. Images of other dead artists' are still used in advertising, think of Elvis, Marilyn, John Lennon, Jimmy Hendrix. Not saying Heath was at the iconic level they were and are, but you get what I'm saying.
I wonder who has the authority to sign off on this -- Heath's family? Michelle? The movie studio?
I know that I personally was so affected by Heath's death, it honestly felt like a close friend had died when I found out. I know that sounds stupid. Most likely its because he looked so much like my brother. (Funny story about that... I made a comment one time about how hot and sexy I thought Heath was but that he reminded me of someone. When I realized who, I wanted to die of mortification! Ewwwww!!!!)
Anyway, what's your opinion on this?
I can has LOL Cats?
Its my new obsession, people -- LOL Cats. If you haven't heard of this online phenomenon before, check this and this out. Some dude started it all with a picture of his overweight cat staring into the camera and added the caption "I can has cheezburger?". Its now so popular, there's an LOL Cats book out (b-day idea there, just sayin'...). Here's a few of my favorites...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Its obvious that I'm oblivious
Now, I never claimed to be awesome at math. Just the opposite, actually. If it weren't for a kindly nerd in high school I wouldn't have passed Math 30, just sayin'...
After I did my "100th post" post, I looked to the sidebar where it shows the blog archive. Saw the number of posts done in 2008, then the number in 2009. Did a little math in my head... DOH!!
So I guess I jumped the gun a bit there. Counting this pathetic little post, my total number comes to 97. Arghhh!
Only 3 more posts to go, THEN I hit the magical 100. *groan*
My 100th Post!!
Yay, I did it! 100 posts, people. To celebrate I changed up the blog a bit, added a few more 'gadgets' and pictures on the sidebar there. Let me know what you think...
Monday, January 19, 2009
Foot-in-Mouth Disease: Its Terminal
I discovered yesterday that I have a terminal case of Foot-in-Mouth Disease (FiMD). Well, its either that or the fact that my mouth sometimes gets ahead of my brain and by the time my brain realizes what has been said, that stupid ole mouth is going at it again, digging itself a deeper hole.
Case in point: yesterday I was at the Lacombe arena for Gunnar's game, standing with some other parents outside the boys' change room after the game. At practice a few days prior, one of the coaches had said if Gunnar needed a ride to the game in Leduc on Monday night he would gladly take him. I gratefully said, "Yes, thank you, I'd really appreciate that!" It was only after we got home that I realized I had no idea what that coach's name was or even who his kid was. I described him to Tyler and he said he was pretty sure his name was Chris, but he wasn't 100% positive. So at the Lacombe game, while I was standing with a few of the parents, I decided to quickly verify that that was indeed his name. You know, so that when I went up to him to hash out the details of when he'd pick Gunnar up, I could say his name with confidence.
So I said to those parents, "Hey guys, you know that one coach on the bench? Is his name Chris?" I didn't realize it but while I was saying that my one hand, completely unbeknownst to me, was making a circle above my head, with pointer-finger extended. I guess this was my way of non-verbally giving a description of what he looked like. One of the dads, who is well-known to have quite the mouth of his own, said loudly, "Oh, you mean the BALD one?" That's when I realized what my hand was doing, and I was horrified! I blushed from head-to-toe and whispered, "Oh my God, I can't believe I did that!" They all burst out laughing. "No, well, like..." I was stammering, "you know what I mean! Troy, don't call him bald! He's follicly-challenged!" That just made their laughter worse. I felt like a complete and utter TOOL.
But yes, his name is Chris. And my name is obviously Mud, because you know what that is spelled backwards.
P.S. I realized later that Chris's wife was standing a few feet away from me but she'd been so involved in a conversation with someone else that she didn't hear what all was said. Thank God!!
Case in point: yesterday I was at the Lacombe arena for Gunnar's game, standing with some other parents outside the boys' change room after the game. At practice a few days prior, one of the coaches had said if Gunnar needed a ride to the game in Leduc on Monday night he would gladly take him. I gratefully said, "Yes, thank you, I'd really appreciate that!" It was only after we got home that I realized I had no idea what that coach's name was or even who his kid was. I described him to Tyler and he said he was pretty sure his name was Chris, but he wasn't 100% positive. So at the Lacombe game, while I was standing with a few of the parents, I decided to quickly verify that that was indeed his name. You know, so that when I went up to him to hash out the details of when he'd pick Gunnar up, I could say his name with confidence.
So I said to those parents, "Hey guys, you know that one coach on the bench? Is his name Chris?" I didn't realize it but while I was saying that my one hand, completely unbeknownst to me, was making a circle above my head, with pointer-finger extended. I guess this was my way of non-verbally giving a description of what he looked like. One of the dads, who is well-known to have quite the mouth of his own, said loudly, "Oh, you mean the BALD one?" That's when I realized what my hand was doing, and I was horrified! I blushed from head-to-toe and whispered, "Oh my God, I can't believe I did that!" They all burst out laughing. "No, well, like..." I was stammering, "you know what I mean! Troy, don't call him bald! He's follicly-challenged!" That just made their laughter worse. I felt like a complete and utter TOOL.
But yes, his name is Chris. And my name is obviously Mud, because you know what that is spelled backwards.
P.S. I realized later that Chris's wife was standing a few feet away from me but she'd been so involved in a conversation with someone else that she didn't hear what all was said. Thank God!!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Boycott Alesse!
I have to confess my secret shame: my skin. When I was in high school, I had perfect skin. Literally. P-E-R-F-E-C-T. I probably had three zits throughout my entire highschool years. I was envied. People asked what my secret was, I didn't know what to tell them because I had no clue. I was just blessed, I guess.
Once I started having kids, my skin started showing the effects of all the hormone fluctuations. Nothing too bad, just the odd blemish here and there. After I had Milena, though, that was it -- my skin went downhill, fast. I had no idea what was going on. Suddenly there was breakout after breakout, and since I'm a 'picker' I started getting little scars and blemish marks (you know, those little dark areas of skin).
There were some days, actually A LOT of days, that I didn't even want to leave the house, I was so embarrassed and ashamed. A little part of me died inside every time someone looked at my face and quickly looked away. I knew exactly what they were thinking. When I'd see an Acne Complex or Proactive commercial on tv, it was like they were telling my life story. I totally related and identified with the people on there.
I tried every acne cream out there. Some worked for a while. But they only treated the symptom, not the underlying problem. And I had no clue why this was happening to me. Finally I just had to accept the fact that this was never going to go away, having kids must have permanently altered my 'good skin' genetics.
Just recently, due to some serious side effects of the birth control I was on (Alesse) I went to my doctor to get a prescription for a new birth control pill. Before going in to see him, I went online to do some 'research', check out a few message boards, and see if other women were experiencing the same things I was. Imagine my complete shock to read that all these other women on Alesse had experienced extreme acne and skin problems. One message board even stated why Alesse does this, because it contains the male hormone Androgen which is known to majorly increase oil production.
Suddenly, it all made sense! After having Milena, my doctor suggested I try Alesse (which was new on the market at that time) because it had a low-dose of estrogen. (After I had Gunnar I'd been on a birth control with high estrogen and it really messed me up, so since then I always requested a low-estrogen pill.) So I'd been on Alesse, on and off, for close to three years before having Ryder (obvs, I was on an "off" time when I got preggers with him, lol). Once Ryder was born I went back on Alesse. And my skin got even worse than before!
I grew to hate having to look in the mirror and be confronted with my pizza face. My self-confidence was at an all-time low; I couldn't see how my hubby or my family could stand having me around and having to look at my skin.
So now I am on a new kind of birth control called Diane. Technically, its not even prescribed as birth control. Its actually something doctors prescribe for people experiencing severe acne and/or unwanted body hair (didn't know THAT until I read the product info the pharmacist gave me, what a bonus!!). One of the 'side effects' of the drug is that it is a form of birth control. How weird (but beneficial!) is that?
I've been on it for about three weeks now and am definitely seeing results. The product info said it might take up to a couple of months before you see optimum results, because your body still has to rid itself of all the other hormones from the previous birth control pill (Androgen you bastard! Get out of me!!!). I've had two little zits pop up in those three weeks, but compared to the twenty I would have gotten before on Alesse, that is a freaking miracle.
The only bad thing is that because this new pill is so strong and potent, it has been known to cause serious side effects if taken for a long time (such as blood clots, etc). So my doctor only gave me a four-month prescription. But I'm pretty sure that my skin will have completely cleared up by then and hopefully (cross your fingers, knock on wood, rub the rabbits foot, whatever) will STAY clear.
I'm planning on getting 'fixed' soon anyway, so I can say goodbye to birth control permanently. Yeah!
(Anyone else experiencing the bad-skin side effect from their BC? Do some research on it, you might find out what I did and you can finally do something about it! Good luck)
Once I started having kids, my skin started showing the effects of all the hormone fluctuations. Nothing too bad, just the odd blemish here and there. After I had Milena, though, that was it -- my skin went downhill, fast. I had no idea what was going on. Suddenly there was breakout after breakout, and since I'm a 'picker' I started getting little scars and blemish marks (you know, those little dark areas of skin).
There were some days, actually A LOT of days, that I didn't even want to leave the house, I was so embarrassed and ashamed. A little part of me died inside every time someone looked at my face and quickly looked away. I knew exactly what they were thinking. When I'd see an Acne Complex or Proactive commercial on tv, it was like they were telling my life story. I totally related and identified with the people on there.
I tried every acne cream out there. Some worked for a while. But they only treated the symptom, not the underlying problem. And I had no clue why this was happening to me. Finally I just had to accept the fact that this was never going to go away, having kids must have permanently altered my 'good skin' genetics.
Just recently, due to some serious side effects of the birth control I was on (Alesse) I went to my doctor to get a prescription for a new birth control pill. Before going in to see him, I went online to do some 'research', check out a few message boards, and see if other women were experiencing the same things I was. Imagine my complete shock to read that all these other women on Alesse had experienced extreme acne and skin problems. One message board even stated why Alesse does this, because it contains the male hormone Androgen which is known to majorly increase oil production.
Suddenly, it all made sense! After having Milena, my doctor suggested I try Alesse (which was new on the market at that time) because it had a low-dose of estrogen. (After I had Gunnar I'd been on a birth control with high estrogen and it really messed me up, so since then I always requested a low-estrogen pill.) So I'd been on Alesse, on and off, for close to three years before having Ryder (obvs, I was on an "off" time when I got preggers with him, lol). Once Ryder was born I went back on Alesse. And my skin got even worse than before!
I grew to hate having to look in the mirror and be confronted with my pizza face. My self-confidence was at an all-time low; I couldn't see how my hubby or my family could stand having me around and having to look at my skin.
So now I am on a new kind of birth control called Diane. Technically, its not even prescribed as birth control. Its actually something doctors prescribe for people experiencing severe acne and/or unwanted body hair (didn't know THAT until I read the product info the pharmacist gave me, what a bonus!!). One of the 'side effects' of the drug is that it is a form of birth control. How weird (but beneficial!) is that?
I've been on it for about three weeks now and am definitely seeing results. The product info said it might take up to a couple of months before you see optimum results, because your body still has to rid itself of all the other hormones from the previous birth control pill (Androgen you bastard! Get out of me!!!). I've had two little zits pop up in those three weeks, but compared to the twenty I would have gotten before on Alesse, that is a freaking miracle.
The only bad thing is that because this new pill is so strong and potent, it has been known to cause serious side effects if taken for a long time (such as blood clots, etc). So my doctor only gave me a four-month prescription. But I'm pretty sure that my skin will have completely cleared up by then and hopefully (cross your fingers, knock on wood, rub the rabbits foot, whatever) will STAY clear.
I'm planning on getting 'fixed' soon anyway, so I can say goodbye to birth control permanently. Yeah!
(Anyone else experiencing the bad-skin side effect from their BC? Do some research on it, you might find out what I did and you can finally do something about it! Good luck)
Okay, you non-commenters...
I'm starting to think no one likes me any more! Where's have all my commenters gone?
Does it have something to do with Blogger's new commenting process? You don't have to have a Google account, you know. Just click on OpenID and type in your name.
And for a few of you in particular (you know who you are), if I don't see some comments soon, expect to be ragged on next time I see you.
Does it have something to do with Blogger's new commenting process? You don't have to have a Google account, you know. Just click on OpenID and type in your name.
And for a few of you in particular (you know who you are), if I don't see some comments soon, expect to be ragged on next time I see you.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Things that make me go, hmmm....
I have a weird and twisted mind, tangled with ideas, thoughts and impulses. Odd things pop up at times and make me think, hmmm...
Sometimes in the shower the curtain seems almost attracted to me, clinging to certain spots, no matter how many times I bat it away. Its annoying. Then a thought came to me, "Maybe its a ghost using the curtain to try to cop a feel?"
What if those odd moments of deja vu we get sometimes are actually a glimpse into our own fate; like we are given this feeling as a way of showing us that that particular moment was one that was always fated to be in our path of life.
I'm a believer in past lives and I've always wondered if those super-intense and realistic dreams you get once in a while -- you know, those dreams where you are not yourself, you're in someone else's body but you feel as if it is you -- are actually a flashback of a past life, or at least a past soul.
Sometimes in the shower the curtain seems almost attracted to me, clinging to certain spots, no matter how many times I bat it away. Its annoying. Then a thought came to me, "Maybe its a ghost using the curtain to try to cop a feel?"
What if those odd moments of deja vu we get sometimes are actually a glimpse into our own fate; like we are given this feeling as a way of showing us that that particular moment was one that was always fated to be in our path of life.
I'm a believer in past lives and I've always wondered if those super-intense and realistic dreams you get once in a while -- you know, those dreams where you are not yourself, you're in someone else's body but you feel as if it is you -- are actually a flashback of a past life, or at least a past soul.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Project Laundry-Room: Update
So my wonderful mom has taken her disorganized daughter under her maternal wing and kick-started some house projects. Ones that I myself have been meaning to get to in the last FOUR YEARS of living here (told you I was Miss Procrastinator), but either didn't have the inclination or energy or even a clue of where to begin.
You all know that mom helped me with Lena's room - that project is taking a brief hiatus until February. For now, we have been working in my laundry room. And when I say "we" I mean her, my mom. Haha. She's the brain and brawn behind all this, although I will say I have contributed a few ideas. So don't think all I do is sit around and look pretty, lol.
I am so frickin' excited with how my laundry room is turning out. It already looks completely different. When its finally done, it will be unrecognizable (especially to Hubs, who only sees that room when he grabs bait from the freezer).
With the help of mom's guy friend we got the fridge and upright freezer moved to a better location; the storage closet was cleaned out of all the spare coats (now we have all the holiday stuff in there); we cleared out ALL the storage items and stuff for Value Village (Mom's storing it in her garage if anyone is still interested); and we moved my big desk in beside the washer and dryer -- it fits perfectly! I was then able to relocate the litter box and cat food/water dishes to under the desk in there, rather than in the toy area. I realized yesterday how bad of a spot that area was for the litter box when I caught Ryder happily playing in it (thankfully clean and empty-of-poop!), not just once but three times! Even though it was clean and had fresh litter, that's just... UGH!
Thanks to my on-the-spot thinking, we had the idea to move the wire shelves from the 'hockey' closet into the laundry room, against the wall by the door. It fit so perfectly, it was like it should have been there all along. I have been wanting and needing some shelves in there for so long, somewhere to put extra blankets or bedding (in bins, of course), somewhere to hang-dry clothes, stuff like that. It was literally a dream come true to get that shelving installed.
Now all we have left to do is finish the holiday-storage closet (get bins for each holiday, like one for Halloween stuff, one for Valentines, LOTS for Christmas, you know), get mom's little sewing desk in there for all my sewing stuff, have Levi do the sink-stuff he wants to do (he's making an enclosure for the big sink so you can't see the legs AND he's giving me a brand new faucet!! You rock Levi!), bring in a nice big area rug, and maybe put up some curtains and picture frames.
It is going to be absolutely BEAUTIFUL in there. I am so excited. I'll definitely post a picture once its all done. You guys are going to be soooo jealous! Haha.
You all know that mom helped me with Lena's room - that project is taking a brief hiatus until February. For now, we have been working in my laundry room. And when I say "we" I mean her, my mom. Haha. She's the brain and brawn behind all this, although I will say I have contributed a few ideas. So don't think all I do is sit around and look pretty, lol.
I am so frickin' excited with how my laundry room is turning out. It already looks completely different. When its finally done, it will be unrecognizable (especially to Hubs, who only sees that room when he grabs bait from the freezer).
With the help of mom's guy friend we got the fridge and upright freezer moved to a better location; the storage closet was cleaned out of all the spare coats (now we have all the holiday stuff in there); we cleared out ALL the storage items and stuff for Value Village (Mom's storing it in her garage if anyone is still interested); and we moved my big desk in beside the washer and dryer -- it fits perfectly! I was then able to relocate the litter box and cat food/water dishes to under the desk in there, rather than in the toy area. I realized yesterday how bad of a spot that area was for the litter box when I caught Ryder happily playing in it (thankfully clean and empty-of-poop!), not just once but three times! Even though it was clean and had fresh litter, that's just... UGH!
Thanks to my on-the-spot thinking, we had the idea to move the wire shelves from the 'hockey' closet into the laundry room, against the wall by the door. It fit so perfectly, it was like it should have been there all along. I have been wanting and needing some shelves in there for so long, somewhere to put extra blankets or bedding (in bins, of course), somewhere to hang-dry clothes, stuff like that. It was literally a dream come true to get that shelving installed.
Now all we have left to do is finish the holiday-storage closet (get bins for each holiday, like one for Halloween stuff, one for Valentines, LOTS for Christmas, you know), get mom's little sewing desk in there for all my sewing stuff, have Levi do the sink-stuff he wants to do (he's making an enclosure for the big sink so you can't see the legs AND he's giving me a brand new faucet!! You rock Levi!), bring in a nice big area rug, and maybe put up some curtains and picture frames.
It is going to be absolutely BEAUTIFUL in there. I am so excited. I'll definitely post a picture once its all done. You guys are going to be soooo jealous! Haha.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
She's a Natural
Milena's first gymnastics class was last night. She was so excited! We got there early, so she had some time to get over her initial shyness and make some friends. 
Here they all are learning the "stance" - knees bent, arms out. The stance is important because it helps them with balance; whenever they jump or land, they are to do it. Of course, being a class of 3 and 4 year olds, do you think any of them remembered? Haha. Those poor instructors, they have the patience of saints. (See how she's the only one paying attention to the instructor? The rest of the kids are looking for their mommy, not my girl! I can easily say she was the best-behaved kid in the class.)Here's Lena on the trampoline. I think she was eager to show off her tramp-ing skills. We have one at home and the kids are out there every day (in the warmer months, obvs).
The little girl in the pink, Harley, was one of the first friends Lena made in class. She's a very outgoing little girl, came right up to Lena and said "Come play with me!" and they were off, running around. But as you can tell in this vid and the trampoline one, she's quite... um, what's the word... not hyper or pushy, but kinda both. By the end of the class, Lena had had enough of her. She kept trying to hug Lena and Lena would just shrug her off. The kid's mom was standing right there so I felt bad but hey, I totally understood where Lena was coming from. I'd do the same.
Here they are on the uneven bars. I was quite proud to note that Lena was the only one in her group that could hold onto the bars the longest without letting go, and she didn't need any help lifting her legs up to the bar. Well, I guess in this video she did but all the other times she didn't.
This was at the beginning of class, learning to do the back bridge. I tell ya, Lena's a natural! The boys and I were beaming with pride at how awesome she was.
Time for the balance beam, one of the things Lena was most looking forward to. Her sense of balance is incredible and so natural. I'd be falling down all over that thing. The instructors, probably thinking that they needed to teach the kids in 'baby steps', literally had them doing just that -- baby-stepping on the beam. I know that Lena could run across that thing and not fall, but she did exactly what they taught, took mincing little steps. Being her mother and knowing what she is capable of, I was getting a little frustrated. But that's okay. When class was over and all the kids and parents were leaving, Lena got up on the beam to show Gramma Hag what she could do, and she was strutting back and forth on that thing like a pro. I saw several of the instructors eyeing her. They were probably thinking, "WOW, I want her in my group next time!" She's honestly that good, and I'm not being (that) boastful or biased.
I KNEW this would be her thing!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Wow, that's... irrational
Have you ever had a dream where someone close to you did something that made you feel so angry or betrayed or jealous or hurt, that when you woke up you were utterly enraged at that person? You KNOW you are being irrational, it was a dream! Yet, you can't help feeling like that. If that person's dream-transgression was really hurtful, you might even find yourself being mean to them or trying to pick a fight so you can accuse that person of doing something that they didn't even do!
That's what I'm going through this morning. I went to bed last night a little ticked off at Hubs, so maybe that's what brought the dream on. I had a very lonnngggg day yesterday, spent two hours with Ardan and the two little ones in the walk-in clinic (Ardan has strep throat) and you know how hellish that is. When we finally got out of there, we had just enough time to whip home and get ready to make the long trip to Wetaskiwin for Gunnar's afternoon hockey game. When we got home later that night around 7pm, all of us were starving and dead tired. I mean, I was so tired at the beginning of the day I fell asleep two times in the clinic's waiting room. I have no idea how I drove to Wetaskiwin and back without falling asleep at the wheel. It was a nightmare.
Early yesterday morning Tyler had taken Ardan to his hockey game, so that was nice of him, but when we left for Wet. (I'm tired of typing it out) he said he was going out quadding with all his buddies. Okay, fine, didn't really care, have fun babe. But when we got home and I saw that Tyler was there, I was like "Phew, he's here. He probably has supper ready for us so my dog-tired ass doesn't have to deal with that." Um, no. Why would I think that? He'd been home for 45 minutes but had laid on the couch the whole time. What the heck is wrong with men? Why can't they ever take the initiative and do something nice or thoughtful for us women? I just wanted to cry. I was so tired, the house was a mess, and I had to scrounge up something for supper.
So that is why I went to bed a little ticked off with the guy. Slipped into a peaceful slumber where I had the most amazing dream that my entire family was at this ten-star hotel and we were treated like royalty, it was awesome. Halfway through the dream, things started to change. Tyler's buddies showed up at the hotel, wanting to party with him. They all went to this huge hotel room and partied like animals, while I stayed downstairs with my mom and brothers and we had dinner. A while later I decided to slip up to the room and surprise Tyler by partying with him and his friends. Well. BIG SURPRISE! There's my hubby on the bed with his buddies all around him, hooting and hollering and cheering him on, while some perfect-ten blond bimbo was going down on him! OMFG! I'm sure you can all guess my reaction. I didn't realize how bloodthirsty I am, at least in dreams. People were screaming and running out of the room, the blond was begging for her life, and my dumbass hubby had the incredible nerve to tell me, "Honey, we agreed that that's not considered cheating!"
WHAT?!?! NEVER in my life, real or dreamland, have I EVER said or agreed to that. I kinda went medieval on his ass. Dream-Tyler was minus a precious asset.
So needless to say, when I woke up I was out for blood. Even more enraged when I realized he'd already left for work. So I couldn't even take out my totally-irrational-and-insane anger on him. Argh! I even contemplated sending him a text like "Met any blond bimbos lately?" Then I calmed down, a pot of coffee and a few chain-smokes later. Which is why I'm writing this blog post, its acting as therapy for me right now.
In my heart I KNOW he would never do that and I have trust in him, completely. But dreams like that, they do something to your psyche, find those little chinks in your emotional armor. So I'm choosing to look on the bright side -- how lucky am I that I am not in that position, like so many wives out there are.
I think I need to stop reading all those celebrity blind items. (To see what I mean, click here.)
That's what I'm going through this morning. I went to bed last night a little ticked off at Hubs, so maybe that's what brought the dream on. I had a very lonnngggg day yesterday, spent two hours with Ardan and the two little ones in the walk-in clinic (Ardan has strep throat) and you know how hellish that is. When we finally got out of there, we had just enough time to whip home and get ready to make the long trip to Wetaskiwin for Gunnar's afternoon hockey game. When we got home later that night around 7pm, all of us were starving and dead tired. I mean, I was so tired at the beginning of the day I fell asleep two times in the clinic's waiting room. I have no idea how I drove to Wetaskiwin and back without falling asleep at the wheel. It was a nightmare.
Early yesterday morning Tyler had taken Ardan to his hockey game, so that was nice of him, but when we left for Wet. (I'm tired of typing it out) he said he was going out quadding with all his buddies. Okay, fine, didn't really care, have fun babe. But when we got home and I saw that Tyler was there, I was like "Phew, he's here. He probably has supper ready for us so my dog-tired ass doesn't have to deal with that." Um, no. Why would I think that? He'd been home for 45 minutes but had laid on the couch the whole time. What the heck is wrong with men? Why can't they ever take the initiative and do something nice or thoughtful for us women? I just wanted to cry. I was so tired, the house was a mess, and I had to scrounge up something for supper.
So that is why I went to bed a little ticked off with the guy. Slipped into a peaceful slumber where I had the most amazing dream that my entire family was at this ten-star hotel and we were treated like royalty, it was awesome. Halfway through the dream, things started to change. Tyler's buddies showed up at the hotel, wanting to party with him. They all went to this huge hotel room and partied like animals, while I stayed downstairs with my mom and brothers and we had dinner. A while later I decided to slip up to the room and surprise Tyler by partying with him and his friends. Well. BIG SURPRISE! There's my hubby on the bed with his buddies all around him, hooting and hollering and cheering him on, while some perfect-ten blond bimbo was going down on him! OMFG! I'm sure you can all guess my reaction. I didn't realize how bloodthirsty I am, at least in dreams. People were screaming and running out of the room, the blond was begging for her life, and my dumbass hubby had the incredible nerve to tell me, "Honey, we agreed that that's not considered cheating!"
WHAT?!?! NEVER in my life, real or dreamland, have I EVER said or agreed to that. I kinda went medieval on his ass. Dream-Tyler was minus a precious asset.
So needless to say, when I woke up I was out for blood. Even more enraged when I realized he'd already left for work. So I couldn't even take out my totally-irrational-and-insane anger on him. Argh! I even contemplated sending him a text like "Met any blond bimbos lately?" Then I calmed down, a pot of coffee and a few chain-smokes later. Which is why I'm writing this blog post, its acting as therapy for me right now.
In my heart I KNOW he would never do that and I have trust in him, completely. But dreams like that, they do something to your psyche, find those little chinks in your emotional armor. So I'm choosing to look on the bright side -- how lucky am I that I am not in that position, like so many wives out there are.
I think I need to stop reading all those celebrity blind items. (To see what I mean, click here.)
Friday, January 9, 2009
If bad things happen in 3s, I am DOOMED
You know, its bad enough when you get hurt, but when its caused by your own stupidity, its sooo much worse.
A couple days ago I was carrying a ginormous hamper of dirty laundry downstairs and on the second-last stair, I fell. Fell because I thought it was the last stair and so I just stepped into air, basically, thinking "this is going to end badly". But I didn't know just how badly. I somehow managed to land on my feet, only one of those feet stepped right into a tall metal tub. One of those kind that you buy around Christmastime that has popcorn in it, you know? My foot went in at an angle so the metal lip scraped its way down my calf before wedging deep in the muscle. I'm hopping around on one leg frantically, still holding that damned hamper, and crash into a tall stepping stool. Banged my hip right good, keeled over sideways (still holding that DAMN hamper, wtf is wrong with me?) and managed to throw out one arm to break my fall. Fell palm-down, right on my wrist. And I mean FELL. I think I felt the house shake.
My wrist immediately went numb so I didn't pay much attention to it. I was more concerned with my calf. You could actually see the skin layers peeled away. Ugh! Once the adrenaline rush went away I realized my wrist really frickin' hurt. Didn't seem broken but it was swollen and my whole right hand was basically useless, no strength whatsoever. Not to mention aching like a SOB.
So today, two days later, my wrist is pretty much back to normal and my leg is fine. I'm leaving the house with the kids, taking Pabs to the vet (paid $50 just to find out that the weird and horribly disgusting thing I saw in his eye was actually his third eyelid, did YOU know cats have third eyelids? An expensive lesson in cats anatomy), and as I put the hamper with Pabs in it on Gunnar's lap, I go to slam the door.
Can you guess what happened? Yeah, you got it. Slammed the door on the very tip of my right pointer finger. Holy shit! I howled like a frickin' banshee! I slammed the door right on the cuticle, gouged out a huge chunk of skin. Blood is dripping everywhere, I'm grunting and moaning and swearing and panting. And yet I knew I only had ten minutes to get to the vet's to make the appointment. So I manned up, got in the vehicle, fished out a bandaid from the glove compartment and we were on our way.
I have no idea how I managed to stay calm and sane during the vet visit. I just pushed the pain to the back corner of my mind. Having birthed 4 kids, I'm kinda an expert at that. Haha.
So yeah, its now almost two hours later, I'm spectacularly high on a painkiller (which is why I'm able to type this, I'm not feeling a thing, baby!), and I'm sitting here wondering what the 3rd thing will be in my triad of self-induced pain. Oh, and I just realized something! Both things that happened to me, were to my right hand. Weird.
A couple days ago I was carrying a ginormous hamper of dirty laundry downstairs and on the second-last stair, I fell. Fell because I thought it was the last stair and so I just stepped into air, basically, thinking "this is going to end badly". But I didn't know just how badly. I somehow managed to land on my feet, only one of those feet stepped right into a tall metal tub. One of those kind that you buy around Christmastime that has popcorn in it, you know? My foot went in at an angle so the metal lip scraped its way down my calf before wedging deep in the muscle. I'm hopping around on one leg frantically, still holding that damned hamper, and crash into a tall stepping stool. Banged my hip right good, keeled over sideways (still holding that DAMN hamper, wtf is wrong with me?) and managed to throw out one arm to break my fall. Fell palm-down, right on my wrist. And I mean FELL. I think I felt the house shake.
My wrist immediately went numb so I didn't pay much attention to it. I was more concerned with my calf. You could actually see the skin layers peeled away. Ugh! Once the adrenaline rush went away I realized my wrist really frickin' hurt. Didn't seem broken but it was swollen and my whole right hand was basically useless, no strength whatsoever. Not to mention aching like a SOB.
So today, two days later, my wrist is pretty much back to normal and my leg is fine. I'm leaving the house with the kids, taking Pabs to the vet (paid $50 just to find out that the weird and horribly disgusting thing I saw in his eye was actually his third eyelid, did YOU know cats have third eyelids? An expensive lesson in cats anatomy), and as I put the hamper with Pabs in it on Gunnar's lap, I go to slam the door.
Can you guess what happened? Yeah, you got it. Slammed the door on the very tip of my right pointer finger. Holy shit! I howled like a frickin' banshee! I slammed the door right on the cuticle, gouged out a huge chunk of skin. Blood is dripping everywhere, I'm grunting and moaning and swearing and panting. And yet I knew I only had ten minutes to get to the vet's to make the appointment. So I manned up, got in the vehicle, fished out a bandaid from the glove compartment and we were on our way.
I have no idea how I managed to stay calm and sane during the vet visit. I just pushed the pain to the back corner of my mind. Having birthed 4 kids, I'm kinda an expert at that. Haha.
So yeah, its now almost two hours later, I'm spectacularly high on a painkiller (which is why I'm able to type this, I'm not feeling a thing, baby!), and I'm sitting here wondering what the 3rd thing will be in my triad of self-induced pain. Oh, and I just realized something! Both things that happened to me, were to my right hand. Weird.
22 Reasons Why My 1-yr Old is a Genius
- When I say "up!" he knows that means to go up the stairs, and he does it.
- If you say "What's that sound?" he cocks his head and listens.
- Without any prompting or encouragement, he picks up his toys and puts them in the toy box.
- He's got some sweeeet dance moves -- the squat, shoulder-shaking, the butt wriggle, arm swinging, and most recently, head-banging (a Rockband Metallica song brought THAT one on, oh yeah, this kid is a Kasha for sure! There we were playing the game, singing and playing the instruments, and he comes a'running and starts head-banging. CLASSIC!).
- Just the other day he learned something new - spinning in a circle, or as we call it, "twirling". In fact, whenever he'd start doing it I'd sing a little song, so now as soon as I start singing the song he starts twirling. Here's the song (sung to the tune of "Fishheads", Christine will know exactly what song I'm talking about): "Twir-ling, twir-ling, twirling in a cir-cle" and I just sing that over and over.
- When I say to him, "Go get on your couch" he immediately runs into the livingroom and lays down on his little foam couch.
- He's figured out how to open pop-off lids with his teeth; for example, shampoo bottles, mini M&Ms tubes, etc. This is not necessarily always a good thing -- he got into the bathroom and before I came along and caught him, he'd emptied my brand new bottle of Olay face wash (and it wasn't cheap) all over the floor and was finger-painting with it. *sigh*
- He knows when we are trying to trick him by luring him into his room so we can close the door and "trap" him in there. And he wants nothing to do with us, just ignores all our pathetic attempts ("Look Ryder, toys! TOYS!") and does his own thing.
- When I tell him "give that to me", he hands it right over.
- Ask him a question and he'll say "yesshhh" ("Do you want a cheese-string? Are you hungry?" Yesshh!)
- Give him a brush or comb and he starts brushing his hair.
- When I say "Bathtime!" he runs straight for the bathroom, goes to the toy box under the sink and starts throwing bath toys into the tub. Then tries to crawl in before he's even been undressed or there's even water in it.
- The kid is a mini-stick champion. (You know, those tiny adorable mini hockey sticks?)
- I only had to show him two times how to go down the stairs on his belly and he caught on. Now he just straightens his body and slides down in like five seconds. Its hilarious!
- He knows what you mean when you say, "give hugs", "give kisses", "gimme five!", "dance", "where's the kitties?", "clap hands", "wave!", "come here", "Daddy's home!" (that one is so sweet, he runs full-out for the baby gate and starts waving and yelling "Da! Da!"), "sit down", and of course, "No!". Now, just because he knows all this, doesn't mean he chooses to listen. He's got selective hearing. Typical male.
- At six months old he somehow knew, without anyone teaching him, to take a toy car and move it back and forth while making "vroom vroom" sounds. Blame it on ingrained male behaviour or genetics. They just KNOW.
- If someone says "Whoever wants [or likes] *insert object here, like say, ice cream*, put up the hand!" he puts up his hand.
- He got a little toy tiger for Christmas and I saw him the other day playing with it, saying "Rowr!"
- Give him a phone (toy or real) and he puts it to his ear and says "I!" (babytalk for Hi).
- If you say "snack time!" he runs for his highchair.
- When I say, "Let's go to Gramma's house!" he starts looking for his coat.
- He's a Simcoe-Kasha. 'Nuff said.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Little Lena-girl "just can't wait!!"
The school sent home a flyer on Monday letting everyone know that gymnastics registration was coming up soon. I looked at it, thought "Hmmmmm" and put it up on the fridge for future consideration.
So its Wednesday night (last night), Mom was over doing her thing in the laundry room (her new project, thanks Mom! I'm so excited, but anyway...), and I happened to look at the flyer again. Noticed that the registration night was Jan. 7. Holy crap! It was that night! I tried about ten times to call the number on the flyer to get some info before I went down there, you know, what the cost was, how long it runs for, what days of the week its on. Wouldn't want to build Lena's hopes up then find out it interferes with hockey.
(Not saying that the boys' extracurricular activities are more important than Lena's, but there's only so much of me to go around, you know? Its hard enough as it is coordinating their two hockey schedules, add in gymnastics classes that may also take place on the same nights and I'd be running around like a chicken with my head cut off.)
No one answered when I called that number, and how frustrating is that? Why put your name and number on a flyer and then ignore people when they call? So I ended up going down to the community centre, me being me I left it to the last minute, showing up 15 minutes before registration ended. In a way it was good though; there was only four cars in the parking lot and I was able to get in, sign her up, and get out in like five minutes. No waiting in line with all the other parents. (Also, I had ZERO makeup on and my choice of hair style that day was "Major Bed-head with Mousse so-at-least-it-looks-somewhat-done". Usually, it never fails that the few times I go out without my 'womanly armor' on, I always run into someone I know and the whole time I'm talking to them I'm thinking, "Omg, I look like crap! They're going to think I look like this all the time [which I usually do but they don't need to know that].")
So classes are every Monday night, from 4-5 pm at the community center (if anyone wants to come watch) and they run for 10 classes.
You guys, little Lena was sooooo excited about being signed up for gymnastics! As soon as I came home from registration, she pulled me into her room and showed me all the "outfits" she was going to wear there. I had to explain that they want children to wear loose, comfortable clothes with no buttons or zippers, no jeans, and bare feet. Hmmm, she had to think about that for a moment. Then she decided on green cotton capris and a sleeveless sporty t-shirt. She was running around, doing somersaults for us, showing us how they would "probably teach her" to do stretches and jumps. She just couldn't contain herself.
She was a little heartbroken to find out she didn't start gymnastics "tomorrow" like she'd thought, she had to wait until Monday. "But mom, five sleeps is FOREVER!" The boys are even excited to watch her at her classes, its so cute. I'll make sure to videotape it and post it on the blog for you guys to see.
So its Wednesday night (last night), Mom was over doing her thing in the laundry room (her new project, thanks Mom! I'm so excited, but anyway...), and I happened to look at the flyer again. Noticed that the registration night was Jan. 7. Holy crap! It was that night! I tried about ten times to call the number on the flyer to get some info before I went down there, you know, what the cost was, how long it runs for, what days of the week its on. Wouldn't want to build Lena's hopes up then find out it interferes with hockey.
(Not saying that the boys' extracurricular activities are more important than Lena's, but there's only so much of me to go around, you know? Its hard enough as it is coordinating their two hockey schedules, add in gymnastics classes that may also take place on the same nights and I'd be running around like a chicken with my head cut off.)
No one answered when I called that number, and how frustrating is that? Why put your name and number on a flyer and then ignore people when they call? So I ended up going down to the community centre, me being me I left it to the last minute, showing up 15 minutes before registration ended. In a way it was good though; there was only four cars in the parking lot and I was able to get in, sign her up, and get out in like five minutes. No waiting in line with all the other parents. (Also, I had ZERO makeup on and my choice of hair style that day was "Major Bed-head with Mousse so-at-least-it-looks-somewhat-done". Usually, it never fails that the few times I go out without my 'womanly armor' on, I always run into someone I know and the whole time I'm talking to them I'm thinking, "Omg, I look like crap! They're going to think I look like this all the time [which I usually do but they don't need to know that].")
So classes are every Monday night, from 4-5 pm at the community center (if anyone wants to come watch) and they run for 10 classes.
You guys, little Lena was sooooo excited about being signed up for gymnastics! As soon as I came home from registration, she pulled me into her room and showed me all the "outfits" she was going to wear there. I had to explain that they want children to wear loose, comfortable clothes with no buttons or zippers, no jeans, and bare feet. Hmmm, she had to think about that for a moment. Then she decided on green cotton capris and a sleeveless sporty t-shirt. She was running around, doing somersaults for us, showing us how they would "probably teach her" to do stretches and jumps. She just couldn't contain herself.
She was a little heartbroken to find out she didn't start gymnastics "tomorrow" like she'd thought, she had to wait until Monday. "But mom, five sleeps is FOREVER!" The boys are even excited to watch her at her classes, its so cute. I'll make sure to videotape it and post it on the blog for you guys to see.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Wow, this is a flashback...
Hey guys, I'm going to do a little something here I'm calling "Beau's Classified Ads". I have a few things I don't want anymore and I thought that first I'd offer them to anyone interested (or if you know anyone who might be), before I take them in to Value Village or put them in the paper. It takes me back to the 'good old days' of working in Classifieds at the Advocate. Let's see if I've still got it, here we go...
ARTIFICIAL Christmas tree, 6.5' Canadian pine. Used for 4 years. Good condition, some bottom branches droop. GIVEN AWAY
BABY SWING, Fisher Price Smart Stages 3-in-1, 3 speeds, music. Excellent condition, used less than a year. Paid $150, asking $50 o.b.o.
BOYS winter coat from Please Mum, size 6 (I think), gray and yellow. Good condition. FREE!
RETRO record player (60s-70s style), pink, maybe 3' tall, with bubble-dome top, comes with adorable round speakers, missing needle but works, also plays radio I believe. Would probably fetch me a pretty price on Ebay but who wants the hassle of setting that up. FREE!
IKEA dresser unit, about 2.5' tall and 3' wide, structure is wood covered with plastic "cardboard" (does that make sense? lol), has four large 'plastic-cardboard' deep drawers that come right out. A little wobbly and banged up, but gets the job done. FREE!
STORAGE tower with 5 drawers (3 small, 2 large), clear plastic, I have way too many of these things and nothing to put in them, FREE!
BABY exer-saucer, with activities and farm animal toys, chicken makes sounds when batteries are installed (which I never got around to doing), 2 of the 3 legs are detached so I have to round up the springs and fix it. Great condition, lots of fun for baby. FREE!
DIAPER pail, Safety First, the kind where you put the dirty diaper in, push down on the lid and it seals the diaper in, no stench! Still has lots of bags left in it. The bottom tends to come off easily but nothing that strong tape won't fix. FREE!
I think that's it for now. Please please please say you'll come and take some of these things off my hands. My laundry room has become the storage area for all this unwanted stuff and its driving me crazy! If you're interested, leave a comment (not putting my phone number or email addy on the blog but if you're in my 'circle of trust' and know them, call or email me). Thanks guys! Spread the word. I'm too lazy (and cheap) to get rid of this stuff in the paper and driving all the way to Red Deer, with the kids, just to go to Value Village pisses me off. Haha.
ARTIFICIAL Christmas tree, 6.5' Canadian pine. Used for 4 years. Good condition, some bottom branches droop. GIVEN AWAY
BABY SWING, Fisher Price Smart Stages 3-in-1, 3 speeds, music. Excellent condition, used less than a year. Paid $150, asking $50 o.b.o.
BOYS winter coat from Please Mum, size 6 (I think), gray and yellow. Good condition. FREE!
RETRO record player (60s-70s style), pink, maybe 3' tall, with bubble-dome top, comes with adorable round speakers, missing needle but works, also plays radio I believe. Would probably fetch me a pretty price on Ebay but who wants the hassle of setting that up. FREE!
IKEA dresser unit, about 2.5' tall and 3' wide, structure is wood covered with plastic "cardboard" (does that make sense? lol), has four large 'plastic-cardboard' deep drawers that come right out. A little wobbly and banged up, but gets the job done. FREE!
STORAGE tower with 5 drawers (3 small, 2 large), clear plastic, I have way too many of these things and nothing to put in them, FREE!
BABY exer-saucer, with activities and farm animal toys, chicken makes sounds when batteries are installed (which I never got around to doing), 2 of the 3 legs are detached so I have to round up the springs and fix it. Great condition, lots of fun for baby. FREE!
DIAPER pail, Safety First, the kind where you put the dirty diaper in, push down on the lid and it seals the diaper in, no stench! Still has lots of bags left in it. The bottom tends to come off easily but nothing that strong tape won't fix. FREE!
I think that's it for now. Please please please say you'll come and take some of these things off my hands. My laundry room has become the storage area for all this unwanted stuff and its driving me crazy! If you're interested, leave a comment (not putting my phone number or email addy on the blog but if you're in my 'circle of trust' and know them, call or email me). Thanks guys! Spread the word. I'm too lazy (and cheap) to get rid of this stuff in the paper and driving all the way to Red Deer, with the kids, just to go to Value Village pisses me off. Haha.
!!@#!%*#!!
I have a whole new appreciation, respect and admiration for plumbers and electricians now. In my opinion, its a wonder they don't need anger management classes and Valium on a daily basis. I say this because last night was the night Tyler decided to "git 'er done" and install the dishwasher. OH. MY. GOD. A miracle, and yet a curse, at the same time.
He decided this last night around 6pm. When it was pitch dark outside. And because we couldn't figure out which breaker was the right one to turn off (you know, so we wouldn't fry ourselves to crisps), he just switched off the main one for upstairs. And may I say that THAT process, of trying to figure out which breaker connected to the dishwasher, was certainly fun. "It's still on!!" How about now? No? What about this one? "Still on!!" Now? "STILL ON!!" ARGH!
So the house was in complete darkness. Scrounged up some flashlights for the kids and ourselves (the kids delighted in tormenting poor Punkin with the light, she was chasing the beam around at warp speed, bumping into walls because it was so dark), Tyler found a nifty headlight like the ones the miners wear. He looked goofy, it was hilarious. Well, until he'd look right at you and you'd be blinded by the light, "Damn it Tyler, quit doing that!" Oh, sorry, *smirk*. ARGH.
What a frickin' fiasco. A process that we thought would take an hour at the most, turned into two, which later turned into three (more on THAT later). You've never heard such filth come out of a man's mouth. I think I learned a whole new swear-word vocabulary. And the kids would not stop coming into the kitchen area, which was cramped to begin with as we had both the old and new dishwashers in there, as well as us two. I felt bad for yelling at them to scram, but you could literally feel the frustration level rising as they all stood there, totally in the way, blocking the pitiful amount of light coming from the flashlights, asking us "Is it done yet? We're bored. We want to watch tv. We're hungry. Is it done yet?" ARGH!
And what a long, drawn-out, complicated process it is, installing a dishwasher. It doesn't help that the instructions are insane, almost over-complicated. Tyler was like, "I don't need those instructions, this is just common sense" so he'd get way ahead of me. I'd be flipping through the manual frantically, making sure he hadn't missed a step and he'd be yelling at me, "Hurry up and figure it out!" ARGH.
At one point, Ty's lying on his side on the floor, struggling mightily to tighten something with a wrench, swearing and panting and growling, and I noticed that like four inches away from his face is a nasty old wrinkled piece of lettuce (where the hell that came from, I have no idea). I got the giggles. He was so frustrated and angry with the whole process, so impatient to just get it over and done with, that I knew if he were to notice the lettuce it would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. I fully expected at any second that he would be like, "WHAT THE FUCK?!" and he'd whip that nasty thing at me. Minutes ticked by. Still no notice of the lettuce. Me still trying to contain the giggles. It was only after he finished whatever he was doing and got back up and took a little breather, that I pointed it out to him ('cause I'm mean like that, lol). There, finally got the fireworks I was waiting for, which allowed me to let loose the giggle fit that I'd been working on. Poor Tyler.
So we get everything connected, the front plate put back on, flipped the thing upright, and went to slide it in. Uh, yeah. Okayyyy. It didn't fit. It would slide easily in about half-way, then wouldn't budge. I kept telling Ty it was because the large sheet of insulation covering the top and sides (to reduce noise, apparently) would start bunching up, we needed to tape it down. He disagreed. He said we needed to adjust the legs, make them shorter. I was adamant about the tape. This went on for a while. FINALLY, the man decided to listen to his much-smarter wife (heh) and find me some tape. Well, that was another piss-off -- we couldn't find any tape besides scotch tape. No duct tape. No black stretchy electrical tape. Not even masking tape. We made do with Gunnar's hockey tape. (Finally it comes in handy!) And sure enough, once the sheet was held in place, the machine slid in quite nicely. At least until it came to that last half inch.
There's two little metal clips attached to the top of the dishwasher, that you screw into the underside of the countertop, and that keeps the machine from moving about when you open the door. Because of that last half inch, a tiny portion of the metal clip stuck out from under the counter. Tyler was in such a state of frustrated rage that he was just like, "Fuck it! So it sticks out? Who cares? We can figure it out some other day, lets just get this done!" Me being me, the perfectionist, just could not allow that. No, it had to be just right. Why go to all this trouble to install it ourselves, if we're not going to do it right, right?
So I came up with the brilliant idea to heighten the front legs just a bit, which pushed the machine up enough that the exposed metal lip slid perfectly into place. Put the screws in, and voila! Done! Tyler got the power back on (the kids were like Hallelujah!) and we followed the instructions for running the first wash cycle, to make it was working correctly, which it was. Whew! What a relief!
About thirty minutes later, Ty and I were playing a computer Scrabble game (I was kicking ass as usual) and he goes into the kitchen to get a pepsi. "FUCKKKK!!!!" There's water on the floor, everywhere! I turned off the machine, we're frantically mopping up water with towels and a mop, Tyler unscrews the metal clips and we pull the dishwasher out. Here the damned drain pipe had disconnected. ARGH!!!
Did a little sleuthing and figured out it was because the seal wasn't tight enough. Ty cut off the bottom inch of the seal thingy on the hose, reattached and tightened it, tested it by trying to pull it back off with all his might -- that thing didn't budge. Yesss! We didn't slide the machine back in because the floor underneath was completely soaked, so we had to set up a fan to try to dry it out. Started a new wash cycle and made sure to check every ten minutes, but miracle of miracles, no leaks! (Of course, having to leave our Scrabble game every ten minutes was intensely frustrating, "Hurry up and get back here or I'm going for you and I'll make a word like "the" for 3 points!")
So the state of my kitchen this morning is a complete disaster. The fan is still going, the dishwasher is still sitting out smack-dab in the middle of my kitchen workspace area, and the sink is completely full of dirty dishes waiting their turn. But at least I can say that my kitchen floor, courtesy of the frantic mop-job last night, is sparkling clean. AND I have one load of clean dishes done and waiting to be put away! Yippee! I am a slave to hand-washing no longer.
He decided this last night around 6pm. When it was pitch dark outside. And because we couldn't figure out which breaker was the right one to turn off (you know, so we wouldn't fry ourselves to crisps), he just switched off the main one for upstairs. And may I say that THAT process, of trying to figure out which breaker connected to the dishwasher, was certainly fun. "It's still on!!" How about now? No? What about this one? "Still on!!" Now? "STILL ON!!" ARGH!
So the house was in complete darkness. Scrounged up some flashlights for the kids and ourselves (the kids delighted in tormenting poor Punkin with the light, she was chasing the beam around at warp speed, bumping into walls because it was so dark), Tyler found a nifty headlight like the ones the miners wear. He looked goofy, it was hilarious. Well, until he'd look right at you and you'd be blinded by the light, "Damn it Tyler, quit doing that!" Oh, sorry, *smirk*. ARGH.
What a frickin' fiasco. A process that we thought would take an hour at the most, turned into two, which later turned into three (more on THAT later). You've never heard such filth come out of a man's mouth. I think I learned a whole new swear-word vocabulary. And the kids would not stop coming into the kitchen area, which was cramped to begin with as we had both the old and new dishwashers in there, as well as us two. I felt bad for yelling at them to scram, but you could literally feel the frustration level rising as they all stood there, totally in the way, blocking the pitiful amount of light coming from the flashlights, asking us "Is it done yet? We're bored. We want to watch tv. We're hungry. Is it done yet?" ARGH!
And what a long, drawn-out, complicated process it is, installing a dishwasher. It doesn't help that the instructions are insane, almost over-complicated. Tyler was like, "I don't need those instructions, this is just common sense" so he'd get way ahead of me. I'd be flipping through the manual frantically, making sure he hadn't missed a step and he'd be yelling at me, "Hurry up and figure it out!" ARGH.
At one point, Ty's lying on his side on the floor, struggling mightily to tighten something with a wrench, swearing and panting and growling, and I noticed that like four inches away from his face is a nasty old wrinkled piece of lettuce (where the hell that came from, I have no idea). I got the giggles. He was so frustrated and angry with the whole process, so impatient to just get it over and done with, that I knew if he were to notice the lettuce it would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. I fully expected at any second that he would be like, "WHAT THE FUCK?!" and he'd whip that nasty thing at me. Minutes ticked by. Still no notice of the lettuce. Me still trying to contain the giggles. It was only after he finished whatever he was doing and got back up and took a little breather, that I pointed it out to him ('cause I'm mean like that, lol). There, finally got the fireworks I was waiting for, which allowed me to let loose the giggle fit that I'd been working on. Poor Tyler.
So we get everything connected, the front plate put back on, flipped the thing upright, and went to slide it in. Uh, yeah. Okayyyy. It didn't fit. It would slide easily in about half-way, then wouldn't budge. I kept telling Ty it was because the large sheet of insulation covering the top and sides (to reduce noise, apparently) would start bunching up, we needed to tape it down. He disagreed. He said we needed to adjust the legs, make them shorter. I was adamant about the tape. This went on for a while. FINALLY, the man decided to listen to his much-smarter wife (heh) and find me some tape. Well, that was another piss-off -- we couldn't find any tape besides scotch tape. No duct tape. No black stretchy electrical tape. Not even masking tape. We made do with Gunnar's hockey tape. (Finally it comes in handy!) And sure enough, once the sheet was held in place, the machine slid in quite nicely. At least until it came to that last half inch.
There's two little metal clips attached to the top of the dishwasher, that you screw into the underside of the countertop, and that keeps the machine from moving about when you open the door. Because of that last half inch, a tiny portion of the metal clip stuck out from under the counter. Tyler was in such a state of frustrated rage that he was just like, "Fuck it! So it sticks out? Who cares? We can figure it out some other day, lets just get this done!" Me being me, the perfectionist, just could not allow that. No, it had to be just right. Why go to all this trouble to install it ourselves, if we're not going to do it right, right?
So I came up with the brilliant idea to heighten the front legs just a bit, which pushed the machine up enough that the exposed metal lip slid perfectly into place. Put the screws in, and voila! Done! Tyler got the power back on (the kids were like Hallelujah!) and we followed the instructions for running the first wash cycle, to make it was working correctly, which it was. Whew! What a relief!
About thirty minutes later, Ty and I were playing a computer Scrabble game (I was kicking ass as usual) and he goes into the kitchen to get a pepsi. "FUCKKKK!!!!" There's water on the floor, everywhere! I turned off the machine, we're frantically mopping up water with towels and a mop, Tyler unscrews the metal clips and we pull the dishwasher out. Here the damned drain pipe had disconnected. ARGH!!!
Did a little sleuthing and figured out it was because the seal wasn't tight enough. Ty cut off the bottom inch of the seal thingy on the hose, reattached and tightened it, tested it by trying to pull it back off with all his might -- that thing didn't budge. Yesss! We didn't slide the machine back in because the floor underneath was completely soaked, so we had to set up a fan to try to dry it out. Started a new wash cycle and made sure to check every ten minutes, but miracle of miracles, no leaks! (Of course, having to leave our Scrabble game every ten minutes was intensely frustrating, "Hurry up and get back here or I'm going for you and I'll make a word like "the" for 3 points!")
So the state of my kitchen this morning is a complete disaster. The fan is still going, the dishwasher is still sitting out smack-dab in the middle of my kitchen workspace area, and the sink is completely full of dirty dishes waiting their turn. But at least I can say that my kitchen floor, courtesy of the frantic mop-job last night, is sparkling clean. AND I have one load of clean dishes done and waiting to be put away! Yippee! I am a slave to hand-washing no longer.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Big Boxes = Big Fun!!
So yesterday we finally got around to getting a new stove and dishwasher. My poor, abused, over-worked countertop roaster probably breathed a sigh of relief. As did my poor, chapped, reddened hands. I used to have kind of a fond affection for doing dishes the "old fashioned way", but I now know that was because I had a dishwasher that did the majority for me. So doing dishes was kinda... fun! But this last month, oh man... I don't think I really comprehended just how many dishes and pots and pans a family of six goes through on a daily basis. I mean, I knew that the dishwasher did about three loads a day, but you never really get just how many dishes that actually is until you have to hand-wash every last one.
The new appliances we have are absolutely BEAUTIFUL. I had to really push to get Tyler to agree to a stove with coils instead of the flat-top. In my mind, it seems like it would be much easier to burn yourself on the flat-top because its a flat surface, seems like you would forget they're actually heating elements. Any flat surface in my kitchen tends to be a mass piling area for stuff. The curse of the Procrastinator. Plus, I don't really get what the big deal about flat-tops are, you're paying like $500 more for flatness?! So we now have a beautiful, gleaming white stove with coils and I'm so excited to cook something in it! Now if I make cookies I can actually use a real cookie sheet (the roaster didn't fit one) AND I can do more than one batch at a time! The joy that brings me is laughable. (Until you've had to experience for yourself, taking three hours to bake cookies.)
My new dishwasher is also a thing of beauty. Also gleaming white, with four different cycles and five different options. I'm in love. I feel desire. For an appliance (one that doesn't require batteries, heh). But if only a dishwasher were as easy to install as an oven. With the oven, we just slid it into place and plugged it in, done. Not so with the dishwasher. We're still trying to figure out how to install it. I told Ty I was leaving it in his (capable?) hands, so hopefully it'll get done sometime this century. My poor water-logged hands are desperate.
So, ANYWAY... the point of this blog post is the boxes that the appliances came in. To be more specific, the insane joy and manic hyper-ness that these two huge boxes brought the kids. The oven box is HUGE, like as tall as me; the dishwasher box is maybe a foot shorter. You'd think those kids died and went to heaven, how they were carrying on. They immediately had those things flipped over on their sides and were pretending they were forts, castles, pirate ships, army tanks....
Then I, yes me the brilliant one, came up with the idea to slide Ryder's little foam couch in there. Well. You've never seen a one-year old as crazed as he was. Running full-tilt in the box, throwing himself on the couch, scrambling up and racing out of the box, then doing it all over again. And again, and again. For like half an hour straight. I swear No.3 and No.4 were so thrilled and excited about those big dumb boxes, Christmas paled in comparison.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Lena's Crime Scene Sketch
Tyler had the day off today ('honey-do' list time, muahahaha) and was playing basketball with Lena in the hallway. We have two little nets put up on the linen closet door and a little tiny basketball. Ty and Lena were really getting into it, I could hear her hysterical laughter and squealing and loud bangs as Ty purposely lumbered around like an oaf, making clumsy plays for the ball. Ryder was out in the livingroom with me, and decided to check out what the fuss was about.
All of a sudden, there's crying and wailing and carrying on, from both kids. What happened was, Ryder must've gotten so hyped up and excited to "play" with them, that he charged at Lena, full-out, and rammed her so hard she careened into the wall and smacked her head on the corner of the wall. Her wails started up his (sympathy cryer? genuine remorse? can a baby feel remorse? anyway....) and both kids come running to mommy, needing hugs and kisses and mama-love.
After I got them both settled down, Lena stormed into the kitchen, muttering under her breath about how bad Ryder was. A few minutes later she brings me THIS, which she said she needed to "show her brothers who are at school right now what that mean brat Ryder did":
All of a sudden, there's crying and wailing and carrying on, from both kids. What happened was, Ryder must've gotten so hyped up and excited to "play" with them, that he charged at Lena, full-out, and rammed her so hard she careened into the wall and smacked her head on the corner of the wall. Her wails started up his (sympathy cryer? genuine remorse? can a baby feel remorse? anyway....) and both kids come running to mommy, needing hugs and kisses and mama-love.
After I got them both settled down, Lena stormed into the kitchen, muttering under her breath about how bad Ryder was. A few minutes later she brings me THIS, which she said she needed to "show her brothers who are at school right now what that mean brat Ryder did":
Its pretty self-explanatory, but the little scribbles up top are supposed to represent "all the crying".
(Oh, and also, the little "Hitler stache" under Lena's nose is NOT intentional, its a finger smudge from Ryder, who managed to get his little paws on Lena's paper, which almost started another war between them.)
The Diva Princess's new room
Mom came over yesterday and we spent like, what, four hours cleaning, organizing and rearranging Milena's bedroom. I reealllly should have taken a 'before' picture, because the 'after' is amazing! And its not even totally finished yet. Mom and I have plans next month to paint all her bedroom furniture (bed, desk, bedside table, shelving unit) cotton candy pink!! (Also needing to be painted: the wall beside her bed, which she has been using as her personal canvas.) Its going to look sweeeeet!!!
But seriously, you would not believe the rough shape her room was in before we did all this. I'd made sure her room was totally cleaned and organized before the Christmas madness, cleared out a few old toys to make room for new ones, yadda yadda. But in a matter of days, it was like a cyclone had hit -- clothes strewn about, all her 'old' toys taken out of their boxes and bins, crusty dried playdough bits on the carpet, her 'new' toys in massive piles everywhere. You literally had to wade through all that just to reach her bed. *shudder*
And of course, me being me, Miss Procrastination, I'd see the mass destruction in there every night when I tucked her in, think to myself I REALLY need to get this room cleaned, I'll do it tomorrow, this time I really will! A week went by like this. The mess continued to grow. Finally, I made a plan, did up a big list (that's a sign I really am going to do something - if I make a list, lol), and then the phone rang and it was Mom, saying she wanted to come over the next day and help me. Us two are really on the same wavelength, I swear.
So Lena was ECSTATIC about her "new" room. I'd put her down for a nap while Mom and I were halfway done her room, so when she woke up hours later, she made a mad dash for her room, threw open the door... and squealed! It was pretty cute. She was so happy and thrilled.
Just wait until all her furniture is cotton candy pink and we have all her stuff organized in pretty bins, with her new wall shelves installed, and her pink tulle bed canopy up. *sigh* I can't wait!
(I debated posting a picture of what it looks like now, but I think I'll wait until next month, when we do the painting and all that. THEN I'll post a pic. You'll be stunned and shocked and amazed... at how awesome my mom and I are. HAHA!)
But seriously, you would not believe the rough shape her room was in before we did all this. I'd made sure her room was totally cleaned and organized before the Christmas madness, cleared out a few old toys to make room for new ones, yadda yadda. But in a matter of days, it was like a cyclone had hit -- clothes strewn about, all her 'old' toys taken out of their boxes and bins, crusty dried playdough bits on the carpet, her 'new' toys in massive piles everywhere. You literally had to wade through all that just to reach her bed. *shudder*
And of course, me being me, Miss Procrastination, I'd see the mass destruction in there every night when I tucked her in, think to myself I REALLY need to get this room cleaned, I'll do it tomorrow, this time I really will! A week went by like this. The mess continued to grow. Finally, I made a plan, did up a big list (that's a sign I really am going to do something - if I make a list, lol), and then the phone rang and it was Mom, saying she wanted to come over the next day and help me. Us two are really on the same wavelength, I swear.
So Lena was ECSTATIC about her "new" room. I'd put her down for a nap while Mom and I were halfway done her room, so when she woke up hours later, she made a mad dash for her room, threw open the door... and squealed! It was pretty cute. She was so happy and thrilled.
Just wait until all her furniture is cotton candy pink and we have all her stuff organized in pretty bins, with her new wall shelves installed, and her pink tulle bed canopy up. *sigh* I can't wait!
(I debated posting a picture of what it looks like now, but I think I'll wait until next month, when we do the painting and all that. THEN I'll post a pic. You'll be stunned and shocked and amazed... at how awesome my mom and I are. HAHA!)
Thursday, January 1, 2009
My middle name is Procrastination
Okay, help me out here people. Please tell me I'm not the only one out there who puts off going to the grocery store until the cupboards and fridge are literally bare and you're reduced to scrounging through the freezer for something to make for supper.
I mean, I knew it was getting to be that time again, for the ole 2-hour food shopping trip, because I noticed the vegetable crispers in the fridge were empty except for a wrinkled head of lettuce, the kids ate the last of the cheese yesterday, and we only had 5 EGGS to make scrambled eggs for breakfast. There was half a loaf of bread for their morning toast (I had to use the crusts too, they were disgusted with me). There is nothing "good" for them to drink (oh, what, you're too good for tap water?).
I managed to find a pork roast in the freezer and thanks to the many boxes of instant mashed potatoes in the pantry (which I didn't have to use for Christmas dinner since I made REAL ones, I know, its a miracle), and of course, that old wrinkled head of lettuce for a realllly basic salad, we were able to have a semi-decent supper. The guys all raised their eyebrows at the instant mashed ("What, no REAL ones?" Come on, just because I made them for Christmas doesn't mean its going to be a regular occurrence! This IS me we're talking about here!).
So I guess this means I have to drag my sorry, lazy old butt over to No Frills tomorrow. *sigh*....
I mean, I knew it was getting to be that time again, for the ole 2-hour food shopping trip, because I noticed the vegetable crispers in the fridge were empty except for a wrinkled head of lettuce, the kids ate the last of the cheese yesterday, and we only had 5 EGGS to make scrambled eggs for breakfast. There was half a loaf of bread for their morning toast (I had to use the crusts too, they were disgusted with me). There is nothing "good" for them to drink (oh, what, you're too good for tap water?).
I managed to find a pork roast in the freezer and thanks to the many boxes of instant mashed potatoes in the pantry (which I didn't have to use for Christmas dinner since I made REAL ones, I know, its a miracle), and of course, that old wrinkled head of lettuce for a realllly basic salad, we were able to have a semi-decent supper. The guys all raised their eyebrows at the instant mashed ("What, no REAL ones?" Come on, just because I made them for Christmas doesn't mean its going to be a regular occurrence! This IS me we're talking about here!).
So I guess this means I have to drag my sorry, lazy old butt over to No Frills tomorrow. *sigh*....
Ohhh, my darling girl...
So the boys and I were out in the livingroom tonight, playing Rockband 2 (and kicking ASS! as usual) and out came Lena from her room, decked out head-to-toe in her dress-up stuff. Tiara, necklaces, white gloves with a big ring worn on the outside of them, high heels, and her pretty white "fluffy" dress. We finished up our song (5 stars, oh yeah!), then gave her the oohing and aahing she was waiting for.
She says to us, "I'm not getting married today." Uhhh, o-kayyy. "I have to find my husband first." Bwahhahahahaha!!! We all burst out laughing. Who are you marrying? Do we know the guy? "Of course you do! He's ERIK! You know Prince Erik?" Oh, you mean, from the mermaid movie? "Yeah, him. He loves me." Oh, so are you Ariel then? "What?! NO! I'm L-E-N-A..." [she gives me a look like, DUH!] Oh, okay, sorry then!
So with that, she tossed her hair and flounced off back to her room, muttering under her breath, "Darn it, where are you Erik?" Meanwhile, us three are trying to hold back our hysterical giggles. What a little darling...
She says to us, "I'm not getting married today." Uhhh, o-kayyy. "I have to find my husband first." Bwahhahahahaha!!! We all burst out laughing. Who are you marrying? Do we know the guy? "Of course you do! He's ERIK! You know Prince Erik?" Oh, you mean, from the mermaid movie? "Yeah, him. He loves me." Oh, so are you Ariel then? "What?! NO! I'm L-E-N-A..." [she gives me a look like, DUH!] Oh, okay, sorry then!
So with that, she tossed her hair and flounced off back to her room, muttering under her breath, "Darn it, where are you Erik?" Meanwhile, us three are trying to hold back our hysterical giggles. What a little darling...
Congrats to the Schultz Family!
(Hope I'm getting all the details right here...)
Bright and early Tuesday morning at 12:59am, December 30th, little Ava Rose Schultz was brought into our world, via emergency c-section, weighing 7lbs 13 oz!!! Congratulations go out to Rob and Carol and their three boys, Joshua, Adam and Justus. Finally, a little Schultz girl (after 28 years!!) for her family to adore and cherish. She was not planned but then again, most of life's precious miracles never are!
Bright and early Tuesday morning at 12:59am, December 30th, little Ava Rose Schultz was brought into our world, via emergency c-section, weighing 7lbs 13 oz!!! Congratulations go out to Rob and Carol and their three boys, Joshua, Adam and Justus. Finally, a little Schultz girl (after 28 years!!) for her family to adore and cherish. She was not planned but then again, most of life's precious miracles never are!
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