24 posts since someone last commented.
24!
What's going on here? Is it the new security feature on the commenting page, where you have to type down the word? I had to do that because I was getting all these crazy spam comments.
Although I'm starting to think that at least those spammers visit my blog! And take the time to comment!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
You must read this link...
I can't even explain or paraphrase the situation as well as Spicy can (from Celebrity Smack), so just click on the link and have a read.
(Story is about a Downs Syndrome football player)
(Story is about a Downs Syndrome football player)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Comedy & Tragedy
COMEDY: Getting up super-early to do the shower/hair/makeup thing so I looked good for Lena's awards ceremony this morning. The kindergarten newsletter said it was at 8:25am, which I thought sounded fishy as usually the awards are given out at the end of the day. But oh well, maybe because this was the first one they changed things around. Arrived bright and early at the school, walked down to her classroom, only to be told at the door by the teacher that the awards ceremony is actually October 5th. Doh!
COMEDY: Walking back to the vehicle with Ryder, we heard a funny loud scraping sound. I looked over and here, some woman in a minivan had ran over a pylon and it was stuck under her bumper. And she didn't realize it! I waved my arms to get her attention but I think it was the thirty kids pointing and laughing at her that really got through. Poor woman! She had to get out and really pull that thing out, it was stuck so hard. Of course, I'm giggling and all the kids are hysterical, "She ran over the pylon! Bahahaha!!" and the teachers are snickering. Soooo glad that wasn't me.
COMEDY: A teenager rode past on his bike and the loser had his shirt totally unbuttoned, exposing his oh-so-sexy thin hairless chest! And he just had that look in his eyes, like 'you want this'. It wasn't even warm enough to justify it, either. Oooo, thanks for the thrill Poindexter, I'll go home and change my panties now. What a nerd.
TRAGEDY: Driving home I spied a long-haired golden chihuahua walking by itself down the street. Poor thing must have been lost! When I pulled over to try to catch it, it just took off like a speeding bullet. This was over by the Ryder's Ridge area so I hope it goes right back to its family or they find it.
TRAGEDY: Approaching the four-way stop by the Community Center, I noticed something black on the road. As I got closer I could see it was a tiny black kitten! Dead, ran over obviously. I almost started to cry. Poor little thing!
COMEDY: Walking back to the vehicle with Ryder, we heard a funny loud scraping sound. I looked over and here, some woman in a minivan had ran over a pylon and it was stuck under her bumper. And she didn't realize it! I waved my arms to get her attention but I think it was the thirty kids pointing and laughing at her that really got through. Poor woman! She had to get out and really pull that thing out, it was stuck so hard. Of course, I'm giggling and all the kids are hysterical, "She ran over the pylon! Bahahaha!!" and the teachers are snickering. Soooo glad that wasn't me.
COMEDY: A teenager rode past on his bike and the loser had his shirt totally unbuttoned, exposing his oh-so-sexy thin hairless chest! And he just had that look in his eyes, like 'you want this'. It wasn't even warm enough to justify it, either. Oooo, thanks for the thrill Poindexter, I'll go home and change my panties now. What a nerd.
TRAGEDY: Driving home I spied a long-haired golden chihuahua walking by itself down the street. Poor thing must have been lost! When I pulled over to try to catch it, it just took off like a speeding bullet. This was over by the Ryder's Ridge area so I hope it goes right back to its family or they find it.
TRAGEDY: Approaching the four-way stop by the Community Center, I noticed something black on the road. As I got closer I could see it was a tiny black kitten! Dead, ran over obviously. I almost started to cry. Poor little thing!
Monday, September 27, 2010
The Rebels game
We were given four Rebels tickets the other night and as No.1&2 were spending the night at their cousin's, Hubs and I decided to take the little ones. They were so excited, especially Milena. Miss Diva Fashionista picked out an outfit, very funky and cool I must say. My outfit was just blah, whatever was clean. I wore my red coat, though. (This is all important info for later in the story.)
So away we went, just a little late for the start of the game. The only available parking we found was wayyy out in the boonies of the parking lot, took like ten minutes just to walk to the centrium. Found our seats, which, because of the season-ticket-holder nature of the tickets, were in a choice spot, right behind and to the left of the goalie. (Also important info.)
Being the very first home game of the season, it was kind of a big deal. Everyone was wearing red, with white pom-poms and little signs saying 'Go Rebels, Go!' that apparently the Advocate had supplied in that day's edition of the paper. The cards were important because at a certain moment, the announcer would ask everyone in a certain section to wave their cards and one lucky person would receive a Rebels jersey. We, of course, did not have a card but whatever.
The game was great, very exciting; the Rebels kicked butt 8-1 over the Oil Kings. Every time the home team scored, the siren would play, lights going on and off, everyone going crazy and cheering. Ryder really got into that. He would clap as hard and fast as he could, grinning hugely.
During the first period, Ty realized that a guy near him was an old work buddy, so they talked and caught up. Right before that, Ty had asked me to switch seats with him. Presumably to talk to this guy, right? (We were sitting with the kids in between us, I had been beside an aisle and he'd been beside a tweenaged girl.) So whatever, I switched, no problem.
Uh, PROBLEM!!
This girl, probably between 11-13, you know, that talkative stage, well she would just not SHUT UP. Seriously. At first it was cute. I was thinking, "Wow, its nice to see a girl that age who's not shy or hesitant to interact with strangers." Yeah, that thinking lasted about five minutes. Seriously, I'm talking non-stop talking. NON. EFFING. STOP. And if she thought I hadn't heard something, she'd repeat it again and again, especially if she thought it was hilarious and that I should be laughing. At one point, I just pinned my evil glare on her father, who was sitting near the aisle, until he must've felt it and looked at me. Now, if that was me and I noticed a complete stranger sitting by one of my kids and that the person was glaring daggers at me, I would rightly assume that my kid was bothering them and I should intervene. But did he? NO. He just blandly smiled at me and went back to texting on his cell. FUCKER! He was probably just happy that he'd pawned the daughter off on some poor sap and he wasn't the one with bleeding eardrums.
But you know what made it even more horrible? Ryder decided to start being a little ass. Got totally hyper, didn't want to stay in his seat, decided that crawling under/over the seats in front of us (which were blessedly empty, thank god) was much more fun. Oh, and he decided to really push my buttons and just take off, up the stairs and out of the stands. Naturally I had to race after him and carry him kicking and screaming back to our seats. (Because HELL NO was I letting the little wanker run around willy-nilly in that big open area that was jam-packed with people, he would've been lost in the crowd within seconds.)
So we finally get back to our seats and here its intermission and Ty decides to take Lena to the concession to get the kids some ice cream. Fine, whatever, thanks for all the help with Ryder, I really appreciate it. See ya later in a couple of minutes. Right? Because the concession was directly above where we were sitting. So it shouldn't have taken too long. Right?
Twenty frickin' minutes later and I'm about ready to pull down Ryder's pants in public and spank his bare ass. People around us were either totally pissed off at his bratty behaviour or humorously indulgent. Meanwhile I've got The Mouth sitting next to me, The Little Ass crawling all over everything, and no sign of Hubs and Lena. During the intermission, little cameras strategically placed throughout the arena would focus on particular people in the audience and they would find themselves up on the big screen. I thought to myself, 'What are the odds that I'll find myself up there? Hopefully NEVER because I look like crap -- well, my at least my hair looked good.'
Finally, FINALLY, they come back with ice cream. And thank god, because at that point that was the only thing that could've grabbed Ryder's attention from eating popcorn off the floor. They came bearing gifts, though (besides the ice cream). I guess there was a big wheel thing set up by the concession that kids could spin and win a prize. Lena spun and won Ryder a mini stick. Cool. But then, for whatever reason, she refused to spin for herself (maybe was uncomfortable with all the attention on her, she gets like that). Just flat-out refused. Whatever. Ryder was thrilled with his new mini stick, so that was all that really mattered.
So there we sat while the game started up again, the kids quietly eating their ice cream, Hubs back to chatting with his buddy, while I sat and wondered how long this calm-during-the-storm would last. At one point, Ty dragged his attention off his friend and informed me that he saw me up on the big screen, but my face was turned away because I was looking down at Ryder. Not wanting this to be true, I asked how he knew it was me if he hadn't seen my face. "Well, your red coat, duh." Oh. Great. But actually, I'm thankful that my face wasn't on the screen because I would have been grimacing-and-bearing-it. How attractive would THAT have been? Yikes. I said, "Well, hopefully the camera won't return to this section." He looked at me funny and replied, "Uh, we're right behind the goalie, this section gets the MOST attention from the cameras." DOH!
So anyway, that calm thing I mentioned? Ya, it didn't last long. Ryder lost interest halfway through his ice cream. He decided that banging his mini stick on the empty seats in front of us was wayyy more cool. And of course, I had The Mouth sitting beside me, egging him on. And that is when I lost it. Just spazzed out.
Reached over and grabbed Ty's arm, snagging his attention away from Bestfriend McWorkguy. "What, what do you want?" UM, WHAT DO I WANT? How about for you to pay a friggin' lick of attention to what is going on here and help me out a bit? Do you even REALIZE that Ryder has eaten a bucket's worth of popcorn from the floor? And that everyone around is about to murderlize him for being a complete brat? And that he's smeared ice cream all over himself and me and the chair? And that I am about one second away from getting up and leaving to go sit in the truck? Oh, and THANKS A BUNCH for asking to switch me seats, I totally see what you did there. DO YOU REALIZE ALL THAT???"
Poor Ty, I really do feel for the guy. He handled my outburst very well. Returned his attention to me and the kids, sat Ryder on his lap and talked to him about the game, actually diverting the little DICKens attention from being a brat to the game. So phew, I calmed down and chilled out and was able to enjoy the game as much as I could with The Mouth still carrying on beside me. But then, miracle of miracles, her family decided to get something to eat and they all left their seats. So I quickly moved to sit beside Ty, leaving Lena and an empty seat beside The Mouth's seat. Yesssss! My eardrums breathed a sigh of sweet blessed relief.
So now it was the third period, game almost over. The ref called for a brief time-out and the cameras started rolling on the audience again. Lena stood up in her seat, waving one of those cards she'd found on the ground. And wonder of wonders, the camera focused on her and Ryder, cheering and waving that card, and when they saw their faces up on the big screen... well, it was a moment I'll never forget. Just pure, utter elation and excitement. "Mom, we're on the big tv! Am I famous now? Am I on the REAL tv?" I just ran with it, "You sure are! Wow, you're on tv! Smile! Wave!" I think it was the biggest thrill of her life. The icing on the cake was that she looked awesome, a totally cool outfit on, pretty face and hair, huge grin. Ya.
Finally the game ended but the spectators were told to stay in their seats because for the very first time, there was going to be an indoors fireworks display! The lights went off, everyone got real quiet, and it began....
So away we went, just a little late for the start of the game. The only available parking we found was wayyy out in the boonies of the parking lot, took like ten minutes just to walk to the centrium. Found our seats, which, because of the season-ticket-holder nature of the tickets, were in a choice spot, right behind and to the left of the goalie. (Also important info.)
Being the very first home game of the season, it was kind of a big deal. Everyone was wearing red, with white pom-poms and little signs saying 'Go Rebels, Go!' that apparently the Advocate had supplied in that day's edition of the paper. The cards were important because at a certain moment, the announcer would ask everyone in a certain section to wave their cards and one lucky person would receive a Rebels jersey. We, of course, did not have a card but whatever.
The game was great, very exciting; the Rebels kicked butt 8-1 over the Oil Kings. Every time the home team scored, the siren would play, lights going on and off, everyone going crazy and cheering. Ryder really got into that. He would clap as hard and fast as he could, grinning hugely.
During the first period, Ty realized that a guy near him was an old work buddy, so they talked and caught up. Right before that, Ty had asked me to switch seats with him. Presumably to talk to this guy, right? (We were sitting with the kids in between us, I had been beside an aisle and he'd been beside a tweenaged girl.) So whatever, I switched, no problem.
Uh, PROBLEM!!
This girl, probably between 11-13, you know, that talkative stage, well she would just not SHUT UP. Seriously. At first it was cute. I was thinking, "Wow, its nice to see a girl that age who's not shy or hesitant to interact with strangers." Yeah, that thinking lasted about five minutes. Seriously, I'm talking non-stop talking. NON. EFFING. STOP. And if she thought I hadn't heard something, she'd repeat it again and again, especially if she thought it was hilarious and that I should be laughing. At one point, I just pinned my evil glare on her father, who was sitting near the aisle, until he must've felt it and looked at me. Now, if that was me and I noticed a complete stranger sitting by one of my kids and that the person was glaring daggers at me, I would rightly assume that my kid was bothering them and I should intervene. But did he? NO. He just blandly smiled at me and went back to texting on his cell. FUCKER! He was probably just happy that he'd pawned the daughter off on some poor sap and he wasn't the one with bleeding eardrums.
But you know what made it even more horrible? Ryder decided to start being a little ass. Got totally hyper, didn't want to stay in his seat, decided that crawling under/over the seats in front of us (which were blessedly empty, thank god) was much more fun. Oh, and he decided to really push my buttons and just take off, up the stairs and out of the stands. Naturally I had to race after him and carry him kicking and screaming back to our seats. (Because HELL NO was I letting the little wanker run around willy-nilly in that big open area that was jam-packed with people, he would've been lost in the crowd within seconds.)
So we finally get back to our seats and here its intermission and Ty decides to take Lena to the concession to get the kids some ice cream. Fine, whatever, thanks for all the help with Ryder, I really appreciate it. See ya later in a couple of minutes. Right? Because the concession was directly above where we were sitting. So it shouldn't have taken too long. Right?
Twenty frickin' minutes later and I'm about ready to pull down Ryder's pants in public and spank his bare ass. People around us were either totally pissed off at his bratty behaviour or humorously indulgent. Meanwhile I've got The Mouth sitting next to me, The Little Ass crawling all over everything, and no sign of Hubs and Lena. During the intermission, little cameras strategically placed throughout the arena would focus on particular people in the audience and they would find themselves up on the big screen. I thought to myself, 'What are the odds that I'll find myself up there? Hopefully NEVER because I look like crap -- well, my at least my hair looked good.'
Finally, FINALLY, they come back with ice cream. And thank god, because at that point that was the only thing that could've grabbed Ryder's attention from eating popcorn off the floor. They came bearing gifts, though (besides the ice cream). I guess there was a big wheel thing set up by the concession that kids could spin and win a prize. Lena spun and won Ryder a mini stick. Cool. But then, for whatever reason, she refused to spin for herself (maybe was uncomfortable with all the attention on her, she gets like that). Just flat-out refused. Whatever. Ryder was thrilled with his new mini stick, so that was all that really mattered.
So there we sat while the game started up again, the kids quietly eating their ice cream, Hubs back to chatting with his buddy, while I sat and wondered how long this calm-during-the-storm would last. At one point, Ty dragged his attention off his friend and informed me that he saw me up on the big screen, but my face was turned away because I was looking down at Ryder. Not wanting this to be true, I asked how he knew it was me if he hadn't seen my face. "Well, your red coat, duh." Oh. Great. But actually, I'm thankful that my face wasn't on the screen because I would have been grimacing-and-bearing-it. How attractive would THAT have been? Yikes. I said, "Well, hopefully the camera won't return to this section." He looked at me funny and replied, "Uh, we're right behind the goalie, this section gets the MOST attention from the cameras." DOH!
So anyway, that calm thing I mentioned? Ya, it didn't last long. Ryder lost interest halfway through his ice cream. He decided that banging his mini stick on the empty seats in front of us was wayyy more cool. And of course, I had The Mouth sitting beside me, egging him on. And that is when I lost it. Just spazzed out.
Reached over and grabbed Ty's arm, snagging his attention away from Bestfriend McWorkguy. "What, what do you want?" UM, WHAT DO I WANT? How about for you to pay a friggin' lick of attention to what is going on here and help me out a bit? Do you even REALIZE that Ryder has eaten a bucket's worth of popcorn from the floor? And that everyone around is about to murderlize him for being a complete brat? And that he's smeared ice cream all over himself and me and the chair? And that I am about one second away from getting up and leaving to go sit in the truck? Oh, and THANKS A BUNCH for asking to switch me seats, I totally see what you did there. DO YOU REALIZE ALL THAT???"
Poor Ty, I really do feel for the guy. He handled my outburst very well. Returned his attention to me and the kids, sat Ryder on his lap and talked to him about the game, actually diverting the little DICKens attention from being a brat to the game. So phew, I calmed down and chilled out and was able to enjoy the game as much as I could with The Mouth still carrying on beside me. But then, miracle of miracles, her family decided to get something to eat and they all left their seats. So I quickly moved to sit beside Ty, leaving Lena and an empty seat beside The Mouth's seat. Yesssss! My eardrums breathed a sigh of sweet blessed relief.
So now it was the third period, game almost over. The ref called for a brief time-out and the cameras started rolling on the audience again. Lena stood up in her seat, waving one of those cards she'd found on the ground. And wonder of wonders, the camera focused on her and Ryder, cheering and waving that card, and when they saw their faces up on the big screen... well, it was a moment I'll never forget. Just pure, utter elation and excitement. "Mom, we're on the big tv! Am I famous now? Am I on the REAL tv?" I just ran with it, "You sure are! Wow, you're on tv! Smile! Wave!" I think it was the biggest thrill of her life. The icing on the cake was that she looked awesome, a totally cool outfit on, pretty face and hair, huge grin. Ya.
Finally the game ended but the spectators were told to stay in their seats because for the very first time, there was going to be an indoors fireworks display! The lights went off, everyone got real quiet, and it began....
(So friggin' sorry for my high-pitched yelling, talk about EMBARRASSING!!! Why did I do that? What is WRONG with me?? So you might want to turn down your volume so your speakers don't blow. SORRY!!)
But yeah, we had a great time (at least that last little bit). Don't know if I'd do it again, though. LOL
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Another 'first' for Lena
With the start of the school year, there were many 'firsts' for Lenagurl. First time riding the bus, first time being 'on her own' (sans siblings and parents) at school, first time getting in trouble from the teacher! (For talking during quiet time, she was sent to sit on the "time-out rug" all by herself and was just devastated, BUT learned a valuable lesson about obeying.)
But the one "first" she just couldn't wait for was getting invited to a new friend's birthday party. She was so worried that it would never happen, "But what if no kids like me and want me at their party?" I assured her that with her fun personality and kind manners, not to mention her "cool" fashion, she would make friends in no time. And sure enough, within a week of school starting, she could name at least five new friends she had made! So exciting for her, and a little weepy for me. What can I say, I'm a big suck and love to see her happy.
Well, last week as I was going through her school journal, lo and behold, I came across a birthday invitation! She was so thrilled, jumping up and down, talking a mile a minute. "That's Kayden, he's one of my new friends!" The party was being held at the movie theater and oh boy, how wondrous and awesome was that!
The party was today and she agonized over what to wear. You know Lena, its all about the fashion. She originally was going to wear her black-and-white striped Jonas Brothers shirt with black yoga pants. Unfortunately, the pants never made it through her jam-toast breakfast. So the panic was on. After scrutinizing and dismissing at least four outfits, she decided on one of the most favorite outfits: the black Hello Kitty shirt, white lace tiered skirt, black leggings, hot pink socks and her pink Hello Kitty high-top sneakers. SO freakin' adorable. She was upset that her pink Hello Kitty purse was missing but oh well.
So we showed up at the theater and she immediately took off to run and play with all her school buddies while I chit-chatted with the other parents. The invite said the party ran for FOUR hours, but no way was I planning on staying with Ryder for that long. After the Rebels game we attended last night (I'll post about THAT later), nuh-uh, no way.
Ryder and I hung around long enough to get Lena her popcorn and drink and get her settled in her seat, surrounded by friends. Then we took off for Walmart for groceries, etc. I have to pick her up in about an hour but I'll make sure to add-on to this post all about it.
But the one "first" she just couldn't wait for was getting invited to a new friend's birthday party. She was so worried that it would never happen, "But what if no kids like me and want me at their party?" I assured her that with her fun personality and kind manners, not to mention her "cool" fashion, she would make friends in no time. And sure enough, within a week of school starting, she could name at least five new friends she had made! So exciting for her, and a little weepy for me. What can I say, I'm a big suck and love to see her happy.
Well, last week as I was going through her school journal, lo and behold, I came across a birthday invitation! She was so thrilled, jumping up and down, talking a mile a minute. "That's Kayden, he's one of my new friends!" The party was being held at the movie theater and oh boy, how wondrous and awesome was that!
The party was today and she agonized over what to wear. You know Lena, its all about the fashion. She originally was going to wear her black-and-white striped Jonas Brothers shirt with black yoga pants. Unfortunately, the pants never made it through her jam-toast breakfast. So the panic was on. After scrutinizing and dismissing at least four outfits, she decided on one of the most favorite outfits: the black Hello Kitty shirt, white lace tiered skirt, black leggings, hot pink socks and her pink Hello Kitty high-top sneakers. SO freakin' adorable. She was upset that her pink Hello Kitty purse was missing but oh well.
So we showed up at the theater and she immediately took off to run and play with all her school buddies while I chit-chatted with the other parents. The invite said the party ran for FOUR hours, but no way was I planning on staying with Ryder for that long. After the Rebels game we attended last night (I'll post about THAT later), nuh-uh, no way.
Ryder and I hung around long enough to get Lena her popcorn and drink and get her settled in her seat, surrounded by friends. Then we took off for Walmart for groceries, etc. I have to pick her up in about an hour but I'll make sure to add-on to this post all about it.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Saturday SNAFUs
Don't you just love Saturdays? Sleeping in, watching cartoons, wakey-wakey-eggs-and-bakey (uh, bacon), puttering around, just taking it easy. Heaven, right?
Well, welcome to my HELL...
1) After finally getting The DICKens to sleep last night at 1:30am, I crawled into bed anticipating a wonderful Saturday morning sleep-in. You know, assuming that he'd be out until at least nine. There I go assuming again (ain't that a bitch, Levi? hah). Nope, there he was beside my bed at 7am, happy and hyper and wanting me to change his wet pull-up (ya, cause that night-time potty training is going SO well). Did that, begrudgingly, then ordered him back to bed. Or at least to his room to play "quietly". He takes instruction so well. (That's sarcasm, if you didn't recognize it.) After tossing and turning, trying in vain to fall back asleep for even twenty more measly minutes, listening to the crashes and bashes and singing and demands for Lena to wake up, I just gave up.
2) Thinking I would be a nice wife and mother, I started making the big breakfast. Got out the Bacon Wave, that wonderful handy invention that I picked up at Bianca's for $3. I loaded it up with bacon and popped it in the microwave. One minute per slice, so fourteen minutes total. Just like it said in the instructions, right? Time was up and I opened the mikey to take it out and load it up with batch two of bacon. Only to notice that the bacon was burnt to beyond a crisp and there was grease pooled everywhere on the glass microwave tray. What the...? Picked up the bacon wave and then oh-mother-of-god, all hell broke loose. The entire middle part of the bacon wave just collapsed into a big melted pile of white plastic and black bacon. Stupid piece of mother-effing crap junk plastic! I couldn't believe it. No wonder it was $3! So there went twenty minutes of my time, scraping melted plastic and burnt bacon off the glass tray, cleaning up all that grease. Good thing I had a second package of bacon, ended up frying it on the stove the old-fashioned way. Grrrrr!
3) So I'm chopping and dicing veggies for the omelets. Tomatoes, onions and just for shits-and-giggles, some jalapenos that we had lying around. Now with this particular batch of jalapenos, it was a toss-up if you'd get a nice mellow pepper or a burning-hot one. Erring on the side of caution, I treated that pepper like it was volcanic. Was very careful to wash my hands afterward, even under the nails. But you know what I learned? Jalapenos don't care about that. I made the fatal mistake of touching my mouth and within seconds, the burning started. A minute later, I had puffy, red, swollen, itching, burning lips. Agony. Stupidity! But here's the ultimate in dumb-assery... I decided to switch my glasses for contacts. That's right. Contact lenses. That you insert into your eyeballs using your fingers. Oh ya. I went there. After the first minute passed, me hunched over hissing, clenched teeth, tears pouring, when I could finally open my eyes, I decided that it would be better to just endure the sting than to try to remove the contacts and possibly make it worse. So that just completed the ogre-look I was going for, bloodshot eyes to match my duck lips.
4) Lastly, when it was all said and done, breakfast eaten, cleaned up, chaos calmed somewhat, I sat the kids in front of the tv for some good old cartoons. Flipped through the channels in shock because, wouldn't you know it, so much time had been spent (wasted) that all the good cartoons were over! And what there was on were junk 'toons the kids despise. So up they got, fully energized and rarin' to go, playing and fighting and screaming and laughing, toys everywhere, madness resumed. While I sat in dazed lethargy, watching the only thing remotely interesting on the tube: Hoarders. Which just served to remind me of my own personal Hoarders episode waiting for me downstairs, that never-ending call to 'clean me, organize me, put me away, dust me, pleeeeeassseee vacuum me...' Well screw you Downstairs, I am done. I don't care if you smell like rank hockey bags and dirty clothes. You can catch me tomorrow on Smiley Sunday, when I am in the mood.
Just another SNAFU Saturday at the Kashas.
Well, welcome to my HELL...
1) After finally getting The DICKens to sleep last night at 1:30am, I crawled into bed anticipating a wonderful Saturday morning sleep-in. You know, assuming that he'd be out until at least nine. There I go assuming again (ain't that a bitch, Levi? hah). Nope, there he was beside my bed at 7am, happy and hyper and wanting me to change his wet pull-up (ya, cause that night-time potty training is going SO well). Did that, begrudgingly, then ordered him back to bed. Or at least to his room to play "quietly". He takes instruction so well. (That's sarcasm, if you didn't recognize it.) After tossing and turning, trying in vain to fall back asleep for even twenty more measly minutes, listening to the crashes and bashes and singing and demands for Lena to wake up, I just gave up.
2) Thinking I would be a nice wife and mother, I started making the big breakfast. Got out the Bacon Wave, that wonderful handy invention that I picked up at Bianca's for $3. I loaded it up with bacon and popped it in the microwave. One minute per slice, so fourteen minutes total. Just like it said in the instructions, right? Time was up and I opened the mikey to take it out and load it up with batch two of bacon. Only to notice that the bacon was burnt to beyond a crisp and there was grease pooled everywhere on the glass microwave tray. What the...? Picked up the bacon wave and then oh-mother-of-god, all hell broke loose. The entire middle part of the bacon wave just collapsed into a big melted pile of white plastic and black bacon. Stupid piece of mother-effing crap junk plastic! I couldn't believe it. No wonder it was $3! So there went twenty minutes of my time, scraping melted plastic and burnt bacon off the glass tray, cleaning up all that grease. Good thing I had a second package of bacon, ended up frying it on the stove the old-fashioned way. Grrrrr!
3) So I'm chopping and dicing veggies for the omelets. Tomatoes, onions and just for shits-and-giggles, some jalapenos that we had lying around. Now with this particular batch of jalapenos, it was a toss-up if you'd get a nice mellow pepper or a burning-hot one. Erring on the side of caution, I treated that pepper like it was volcanic. Was very careful to wash my hands afterward, even under the nails. But you know what I learned? Jalapenos don't care about that. I made the fatal mistake of touching my mouth and within seconds, the burning started. A minute later, I had puffy, red, swollen, itching, burning lips. Agony. Stupidity! But here's the ultimate in dumb-assery... I decided to switch my glasses for contacts. That's right. Contact lenses. That you insert into your eyeballs using your fingers. Oh ya. I went there. After the first minute passed, me hunched over hissing, clenched teeth, tears pouring, when I could finally open my eyes, I decided that it would be better to just endure the sting than to try to remove the contacts and possibly make it worse. So that just completed the ogre-look I was going for, bloodshot eyes to match my duck lips.
4) Lastly, when it was all said and done, breakfast eaten, cleaned up, chaos calmed somewhat, I sat the kids in front of the tv for some good old cartoons. Flipped through the channels in shock because, wouldn't you know it, so much time had been spent (wasted) that all the good cartoons were over! And what there was on were junk 'toons the kids despise. So up they got, fully energized and rarin' to go, playing and fighting and screaming and laughing, toys everywhere, madness resumed. While I sat in dazed lethargy, watching the only thing remotely interesting on the tube: Hoarders. Which just served to remind me of my own personal Hoarders episode waiting for me downstairs, that never-ending call to 'clean me, organize me, put me away, dust me, pleeeeeassseee vacuum me...' Well screw you Downstairs, I am done. I don't care if you smell like rank hockey bags and dirty clothes. You can catch me tomorrow on Smiley Sunday, when I am in the mood.
Just another SNAFU Saturday at the Kashas.
Friday, September 24, 2010
I LOVE this song & video!!
Okay, this song and video just earned Miss Aguilera a new fan. So, so beautiful. And sad. Gave me goosebumps the first time I saw and heard it.
Five Question Friday
1. If you could speak with a different accent, what would it be (i.e Australian, Scottish)?
Oooo, I like this question! I think Aussie accents sound ridiculous (sorry, mates!); Scottish accents, while very sexy, can be way too thick and hard to interpret; Irish accents are lyrical and musical but you still sound like a leprechaun ("They're after me gold!"); there are so many different variations of an English accent, you either sound like an upper-cruster with a stick up your butt or a lowly commoner hawking fish on the street ("Fresh caught today, guv'na!"); Newfie accents are freakin' hilarious and awesome but its hard to be taken seriously when people are too busy holding their gut and rolling on the floor, laughing at you; I'm not even going to touch on Asian accents, too stereotypical; Russian accents are too scary; Polish/Swedish/whatever -- no way ("Smorgie-board!" -- the Swedish chef, get it?); I love French accents, very sexy when done right, but when I hear one I tend to picture the person with a thin black mustache wearing a beret, scarf and black-and-white striped shirt, doing mime.
No, I think the only two accents I would like to have are either Italian or Spanish. Not Mexican-type Spanish ("Seee, seee-nyoor") but more like Sofia Vargara's accent on Modern Family. She has the natural accent but plays it up for the character. Very sexy, very fiery.
2. Can you fall asleep anywhere? (i.e floor, couch, deck)
I guess it depends on how tired I am. I can definitely fall asleep on the couch, have fallen asleep in chairs before, on the beach, on the grass, in tents and vehicles. So actually, I guess the answer is 'yes'. Hah.
3. Do you use public restrooms? If so, do you sit on the toilet?
When necessity demands it, yes. If the bathroom looks sketchy in any way, I do the 'hover' thing. And by 'sketchy', I mean dirty, toilet paper on the floor, stained toilet bowl, water all over the sink counter, dirty mirrors, etc. And if the toilet is 'full', fuhgeddaboutit.
4. If you were stuck in an elevator for 24 hours, what celebrity would you most want to be stuck with?
Um, derrrr, ADAM LAMBERT, of course. That poor guy wouldn't know what hit him. I'd probably try to be nice about it at first, but there would be no getting away. I would violate that boy in ways you've never even heard about, heh heh heh. If that disturbs you, just be glad you don't live in my brain. But would he still respect me in the morning? Who cares! I could die happy knowing I crossed my #1 off The List.
5. Where did you and your significant other go on your 1st date?
You mean I have to try and remember back that far? Okay... *digging through mental files*... I can definitely say that less than a week into our 'going out' we went to Edgefest together; don't know if you'd classify that as a date, per se. We also went out for dinner at Our Flames that first week, and to a couple of house parties. We don't really go on 'dates' because every night is date night for us.
Oooo, I like this question! I think Aussie accents sound ridiculous (sorry, mates!); Scottish accents, while very sexy, can be way too thick and hard to interpret; Irish accents are lyrical and musical but you still sound like a leprechaun ("They're after me gold!"); there are so many different variations of an English accent, you either sound like an upper-cruster with a stick up your butt or a lowly commoner hawking fish on the street ("Fresh caught today, guv'na!"); Newfie accents are freakin' hilarious and awesome but its hard to be taken seriously when people are too busy holding their gut and rolling on the floor, laughing at you; I'm not even going to touch on Asian accents, too stereotypical; Russian accents are too scary; Polish/Swedish/whatever -- no way ("Smorgie-board!" -- the Swedish chef, get it?); I love French accents, very sexy when done right, but when I hear one I tend to picture the person with a thin black mustache wearing a beret, scarf and black-and-white striped shirt, doing mime.
No, I think the only two accents I would like to have are either Italian or Spanish. Not Mexican-type Spanish ("Seee, seee-nyoor") but more like Sofia Vargara's accent on Modern Family. She has the natural accent but plays it up for the character. Very sexy, very fiery.
2. Can you fall asleep anywhere? (i.e floor, couch, deck)
I guess it depends on how tired I am. I can definitely fall asleep on the couch, have fallen asleep in chairs before, on the beach, on the grass, in tents and vehicles. So actually, I guess the answer is 'yes'. Hah.
3. Do you use public restrooms? If so, do you sit on the toilet?
When necessity demands it, yes. If the bathroom looks sketchy in any way, I do the 'hover' thing. And by 'sketchy', I mean dirty, toilet paper on the floor, stained toilet bowl, water all over the sink counter, dirty mirrors, etc. And if the toilet is 'full', fuhgeddaboutit.
4. If you were stuck in an elevator for 24 hours, what celebrity would you most want to be stuck with?
Um, derrrr, ADAM LAMBERT, of course. That poor guy wouldn't know what hit him. I'd probably try to be nice about it at first, but there would be no getting away. I would violate that boy in ways you've never even heard about, heh heh heh. If that disturbs you, just be glad you don't live in my brain. But would he still respect me in the morning? Who cares! I could die happy knowing I crossed my #1 off The List.
5. Where did you and your significant other go on your 1st date?
You mean I have to try and remember back that far? Okay... *digging through mental files*... I can definitely say that less than a week into our 'going out' we went to Edgefest together; don't know if you'd classify that as a date, per se. We also went out for dinner at Our Flames that first week, and to a couple of house parties. We don't really go on 'dates' because every night is date night for us.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Omg, I'm one of THEM
And by 'them', I'm talking about those disgusting slobs that wander into Walmart (for example) with crazy outfits and/or crazy hair and/or crazy personal hygiene.
Of course, I'm not quite that bad. I (usually) take pride in my appearance and make sure the hair, makeup and clothes are on-point (because its always been just my luck that the one time I dress down is when I run into an old highschool friend).
It wasn't until I got home that I realized that my INCREDIBLY HAIRY, UNSHAVED LEGS were on full display for the entire world to see.
*sigh*
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Dedicated to YOU
How does one define the word 'strength'?
Is it purely a physical characteristic, as in how much weight you can lift? Do you define it as 'backbone', meaning having the strength and fortitude to stand up to injustice or to remain true to your morals, values and beliefs? Is it emotional strength, to be able to remain stoic with that stiff upper lip?
Of course, we all know strength encompasses all those. But I want you to think about this for a second: that there is also strength, true strength, in NOT being 'strong'.
Think about the quadriplegic in the wheelchair, unable to use their limbs for lifting and carrying. That person lives with the knowledge that in the eyes of many, they are not 'strong'. They cannot lift their crying child onto their lap, cannot wrap their child in loving arms, cannot even carry their child to safety in a dangerous situation. And yet, to live with that knowledge of all they cannot do, for themselves and their loved ones, is there not immense strength in that?
Think about the old man in the nursing home, who relies on nurses to feed and bathe and clothe him. Alone, forgotten, left with nothing but memories of happier times. To many, this is the epitome of 'weak', the lurking dread in our subconscious, that that will be us one day. And yet, to be in that position day in and day out, dependent upon the goodwill of strangers, reliant on their care, to trust like that... is there not immense strength in that?
And what about the grieving people out there, who have lost the love of their life. The ones who know they have had their one shot at true love, and that they must now carry on without it. To wake every day, arms outstretched to that empty spot beside them. To carry the crushing burden of grief and regret and loss. There's a saying that time heals all wounds, yet don't you think it is just the opposite? For really, time salts the wound; it reminds you constantly that the one you would instinctively turn to for comfort, with whom you would share that funny joke you heard, who is on the same wavelength where just one shared word carries a deeper, inner meaning to you both... that person is gone. And when the world deems that your time to grieve is over, that enough time has passed and you should now be getting 'better', and they can't understand WHY you still cry over the simplest of things, or WHY you can't just 'get over it' and move on, they obviously don't understand that grief and depression are complex and life-lasting. How do you explain the ongoing battle, every damn day, just to get out of bed and put on a happy face and appear 'normal'. And its not that you are doing this out of a general want to 'get better' and 'get over it', it is being done FOR THEM. So that they won't be worried and concerned and feel the need to intervene and do something. But wouldn't it be nice for those people to RECOGNIZE and ACKNOWLEDGE that daily inner battle with the demons of grief, loss and depression? For them to realize, truly realize, that in your failing battle to be 'strong', that THAT is where true inner strength lies? To be told, "You fight a daily battle that would cripple most people, and I am just so, so PROUD of you; that you have found the courage and fortitude to deal with this situation in the best way you can, and I am PROUD of that."
Because I truly believe that it is in our weakest, most frail moments, when we finally allow ourselves to appear weak in front of others, when we abandon the pretense of strength and cry and scream and question "Why!?", when we say "I need you, I just need someone to talk to" and the walls built up to hold in all those volatile emotions come crashing down...
In those moments, there is STRENGTH.
Real, true, deep inner strength.
And so I say to you, YOU, that I am immensely proud of you. I admire you. I respect you. And I understand, I get it. Whatever you choose to do, wherever life's paths take you, I am there, behind you 100%, because I know. You hold more strength of character and will in your little finger than the rest of us combined. And if they don't understand it, if they don't recognize or acknowledge it, if they are embarrassed by your seeming lack of 'strength', then that is THEIR show of weakness, not yours. That is their loss, that they choose to hold close their outdated beliefs rather than open their eyes and SEE the tremendous person you are.
Hold strong to that, remain true to yourself. And above all, BELIEVE. That you are loved, that you inspire respect and pride in those that truly matter, and that you ARE strong.
ILUF2M and M2F.
Is it purely a physical characteristic, as in how much weight you can lift? Do you define it as 'backbone', meaning having the strength and fortitude to stand up to injustice or to remain true to your morals, values and beliefs? Is it emotional strength, to be able to remain stoic with that stiff upper lip?
Of course, we all know strength encompasses all those. But I want you to think about this for a second: that there is also strength, true strength, in NOT being 'strong'.
Think about the quadriplegic in the wheelchair, unable to use their limbs for lifting and carrying. That person lives with the knowledge that in the eyes of many, they are not 'strong'. They cannot lift their crying child onto their lap, cannot wrap their child in loving arms, cannot even carry their child to safety in a dangerous situation. And yet, to live with that knowledge of all they cannot do, for themselves and their loved ones, is there not immense strength in that?
Think about the old man in the nursing home, who relies on nurses to feed and bathe and clothe him. Alone, forgotten, left with nothing but memories of happier times. To many, this is the epitome of 'weak', the lurking dread in our subconscious, that that will be us one day. And yet, to be in that position day in and day out, dependent upon the goodwill of strangers, reliant on their care, to trust like that... is there not immense strength in that?
And what about the grieving people out there, who have lost the love of their life. The ones who know they have had their one shot at true love, and that they must now carry on without it. To wake every day, arms outstretched to that empty spot beside them. To carry the crushing burden of grief and regret and loss. There's a saying that time heals all wounds, yet don't you think it is just the opposite? For really, time salts the wound; it reminds you constantly that the one you would instinctively turn to for comfort, with whom you would share that funny joke you heard, who is on the same wavelength where just one shared word carries a deeper, inner meaning to you both... that person is gone. And when the world deems that your time to grieve is over, that enough time has passed and you should now be getting 'better', and they can't understand WHY you still cry over the simplest of things, or WHY you can't just 'get over it' and move on, they obviously don't understand that grief and depression are complex and life-lasting. How do you explain the ongoing battle, every damn day, just to get out of bed and put on a happy face and appear 'normal'. And its not that you are doing this out of a general want to 'get better' and 'get over it', it is being done FOR THEM. So that they won't be worried and concerned and feel the need to intervene and do something. But wouldn't it be nice for those people to RECOGNIZE and ACKNOWLEDGE that daily inner battle with the demons of grief, loss and depression? For them to realize, truly realize, that in your failing battle to be 'strong', that THAT is where true inner strength lies? To be told, "You fight a daily battle that would cripple most people, and I am just so, so PROUD of you; that you have found the courage and fortitude to deal with this situation in the best way you can, and I am PROUD of that."
Because I truly believe that it is in our weakest, most frail moments, when we finally allow ourselves to appear weak in front of others, when we abandon the pretense of strength and cry and scream and question "Why!?", when we say "I need you, I just need someone to talk to" and the walls built up to hold in all those volatile emotions come crashing down...
In those moments, there is STRENGTH.
Real, true, deep inner strength.
And so I say to you, YOU, that I am immensely proud of you. I admire you. I respect you. And I understand, I get it. Whatever you choose to do, wherever life's paths take you, I am there, behind you 100%, because I know. You hold more strength of character and will in your little finger than the rest of us combined. And if they don't understand it, if they don't recognize or acknowledge it, if they are embarrassed by your seeming lack of 'strength', then that is THEIR show of weakness, not yours. That is their loss, that they choose to hold close their outdated beliefs rather than open their eyes and SEE the tremendous person you are.
Hold strong to that, remain true to yourself. And above all, BELIEVE. That you are loved, that you inspire respect and pride in those that truly matter, and that you ARE strong.
ILUF2M and M2F.
Monday, September 20, 2010
There's dedication, and then there's just plain insanity
I was in Red Deer today and the weather was just miserable. Raining, cold, wet, windy... just UGH. But I kept noticing all these people, dressed in their black spandex running pants, jogging together in packs of three or more. JOGGING. In the rain.
And it wasn't just one group of runners, or two. No, I must have seen about six or seven of these groups of 'dedicated' runners, just slogging along in the cold and wet. And not just in one part of Red Deer; I saw them in Bower, over by Michener, downtown.
I'm thinking there must be a biathlon coming up and these crazies are participants, or maybe part of a running group? But I mean, c'mon: there's dedication and then there's obsession.
INSANITY is what I call it.
I'll take my home workouts over that any day.
And it wasn't just one group of runners, or two. No, I must have seen about six or seven of these groups of 'dedicated' runners, just slogging along in the cold and wet. And not just in one part of Red Deer; I saw them in Bower, over by Michener, downtown.
I'm thinking there must be a biathlon coming up and these crazies are participants, or maybe part of a running group? But I mean, c'mon: there's dedication and then there's obsession.
INSANITY is what I call it.
I'll take my home workouts over that any day.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Never ass-u-me
You know the old saying: Never assume, it makes an ass of u (you) and me.
I'd been feeling a bit low, thinking that my two besties were mad at me or something.
My one bff, Kelly, had come over from Australia with her family this summer and other than one night of partying at the Monkey Top together, we didn't see hide-nor-hair of them for the rest of their trip. At first I was concerned, then curious, then annoyed, and finally, just plain worried that maybe I did something to offend her. I couldn't get a hold of her, it was like they'd just dropped off the planet. I later discovered that none of her friends had seen her or been able to reach her. So that was worrying, and odd. I left a few message on her facebook wall but still nothing, no reply.
Then my other bff, Christine, became unreachable. We'd made loose plans to try to go camping together sometime this summer. She was only available for two weekends, and one of those was out as she had other plans. So it looked like that one weekend, the one after the long weekend in September, was our only option. Chris found an awesome campsite near Stettler, Old McDonald's Farm, that had everything from a convenience store, petting zoo, beach, playgrounds, bike paths, you name it. It sounded very exciting. Unfortunately, I soon realized that Gunnar's AA hockey tryouts would be that weekend, so I left her a message to that affect. And that was it, I didn't hear from her again for weeks afterward. I called again and again, leaving messages, probably sounding like a desperate stalker. Looked like I'd did it again, somehow offended one of my besties.
So at that point, I resigned myself to being a poor loner, friendless and socially inept.
Then, the other day I got a call from Kelly. And found out the real story. Turned out that one of her husband Curtis's best friends had passed away after a lengthy battle with a brain tumour. Being that the widow's in-laws were handling it very poorly (didn't want a funeral; had kept the news from her that the husband had slipped into a coma - a sign of impending death - until after he'd passed away, basically denying her those last few moments, even telling her not to come visit that night because he was fine), of course Curtis and Kelly drove straight there to Saskatchewan to help her and provide support, plan the funeral, etc. Then, after dealing with that heart-breaking situation and doing everything they could for the widow, Kelly's father got his nose out of joint over something and basically started a huge fight, with name-calling and harsh words. Poor Kelly, to already be overwhelmed with grief, stressed out over other matters, and then this. So that was it for her, they packed and returned to Australia. And who can blame her? I'd be done with the whole situation, too.
We had a great talk and though I really felt for her, I couldn't help but be relieved that I wasn't the reason for her 'disappearance'.
Then, a few days after that, I received an email from Christine. And was once again shown to be an 'ass' for assuming. Turned out that poor pregnant Christine has been working herself to the bone, picking up extra shifts whenever she could in order to have enough hours to qualify for maternity leave. On top of that, their house sold and they were given two weeks to vacate! My poor girl, I can't even imagine how stressful that all must be. Working like mad, trying to pack up, making all those arrangements that come with a move (new living quarters, cancelling the utilities and phone accounts, setting up new ones, etcetc), being pregnant and tired and nauseous, and having to look after two children age three and under. This is a person who truly deserves the Woman of the Year award!
So I have learned a very valuable lesson here. When you make an assumption about someone, you are basing that on your own personal experiences or thoughts; it is never that simple, or easy. There are myriad possibilities or reasons why someone might do something or act a certain way, and to assume that you know why is a huge injustice to that person. In most cases, it is the complete opposite of what you have assumed. So its best to just keep your thoughts to yourself until you know the whole story. Better to find out later that you are indeed an ass, rather than to have the other person know it for a fact!
I'd been feeling a bit low, thinking that my two besties were mad at me or something.
My one bff, Kelly, had come over from Australia with her family this summer and other than one night of partying at the Monkey Top together, we didn't see hide-nor-hair of them for the rest of their trip. At first I was concerned, then curious, then annoyed, and finally, just plain worried that maybe I did something to offend her. I couldn't get a hold of her, it was like they'd just dropped off the planet. I later discovered that none of her friends had seen her or been able to reach her. So that was worrying, and odd. I left a few message on her facebook wall but still nothing, no reply.
Then my other bff, Christine, became unreachable. We'd made loose plans to try to go camping together sometime this summer. She was only available for two weekends, and one of those was out as she had other plans. So it looked like that one weekend, the one after the long weekend in September, was our only option. Chris found an awesome campsite near Stettler, Old McDonald's Farm, that had everything from a convenience store, petting zoo, beach, playgrounds, bike paths, you name it. It sounded very exciting. Unfortunately, I soon realized that Gunnar's AA hockey tryouts would be that weekend, so I left her a message to that affect. And that was it, I didn't hear from her again for weeks afterward. I called again and again, leaving messages, probably sounding like a desperate stalker. Looked like I'd did it again, somehow offended one of my besties.
So at that point, I resigned myself to being a poor loner, friendless and socially inept.
Then, the other day I got a call from Kelly. And found out the real story. Turned out that one of her husband Curtis's best friends had passed away after a lengthy battle with a brain tumour. Being that the widow's in-laws were handling it very poorly (didn't want a funeral; had kept the news from her that the husband had slipped into a coma - a sign of impending death - until after he'd passed away, basically denying her those last few moments, even telling her not to come visit that night because he was fine), of course Curtis and Kelly drove straight there to Saskatchewan to help her and provide support, plan the funeral, etc. Then, after dealing with that heart-breaking situation and doing everything they could for the widow, Kelly's father got his nose out of joint over something and basically started a huge fight, with name-calling and harsh words. Poor Kelly, to already be overwhelmed with grief, stressed out over other matters, and then this. So that was it for her, they packed and returned to Australia. And who can blame her? I'd be done with the whole situation, too.
We had a great talk and though I really felt for her, I couldn't help but be relieved that I wasn't the reason for her 'disappearance'.
Then, a few days after that, I received an email from Christine. And was once again shown to be an 'ass' for assuming. Turned out that poor pregnant Christine has been working herself to the bone, picking up extra shifts whenever she could in order to have enough hours to qualify for maternity leave. On top of that, their house sold and they were given two weeks to vacate! My poor girl, I can't even imagine how stressful that all must be. Working like mad, trying to pack up, making all those arrangements that come with a move (new living quarters, cancelling the utilities and phone accounts, setting up new ones, etcetc), being pregnant and tired and nauseous, and having to look after two children age three and under. This is a person who truly deserves the Woman of the Year award!
So I have learned a very valuable lesson here. When you make an assumption about someone, you are basing that on your own personal experiences or thoughts; it is never that simple, or easy. There are myriad possibilities or reasons why someone might do something or act a certain way, and to assume that you know why is a huge injustice to that person. In most cases, it is the complete opposite of what you have assumed. So its best to just keep your thoughts to yourself until you know the whole story. Better to find out later that you are indeed an ass, rather than to have the other person know it for a fact!
Five Question Friday
1. What is the first nightmare you remember?
Didn't I just do a post about this subject? The first nightmare I remember is the one about the grinning skeletons in the forest, hanging from nooses, while I ran frantically down a dark, narrow path. I believe I was around three or four at the time.
2. Even if you're not a sports fan, what's your favorite sport to play/watch?
I like to play soccer and badminton; I also like playing catch, and sometimes even volleyball (though I always make the ball go soaring in the opposite direction I want it to). I like to watch hockey, but only if its live; I can't stand hockey on tv because the non-stop commentary irks me (mostly because I don't understand all the jargon). I love watching the summer Olympics, especially the water sports like diving, synchronized swimming (not lane swimming though, borrrring); and the gymnastic events like the uneven bars, floor routines, balance beam, etc. I also really like figure skating. I was privileged enough last year to see Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's emotional and breath-taking Gold-winning Olympic performance. On tv, not live, didn't mean to make it sound that way. But the tv commentary person even agreed that it was second only to Torville and Dean's Olympic performance back in the 80s (which I have seen on youtube and agree that it was the most elegant, flowing, emotional, stunning ice performance EVER).
3. If you could pull off one piece of trendy fashion, what would you want it to be (jeggings, hats, thigh high boots, etc.)?
Omg, I would never wear jeggings (jean leggings), ack! But that look, of the skinny jeans/pants, is one I wish I could pull off gracefully and stylishly; instead, I'd look like an apple on toothpicks, lol! Also, I've always wished I could pull off a cool scarf, wrapped funk-ily. I now know that my own friggin' Diva Fashionista daughter, at age five, can pull off that look (thanks Granny Hag, its her new favorite outfit, she wore it to school today!) like she's been doing it all her life. She even knows three different ways to tie/wrap the scarf. And she looks amazing! So funky and cool and just plain awesome. I'd probably look like a nerd who was trying too hard to be cool. *sigh*
4. Did you make good grades in school?
Of course! I was lucky, though, to be blessed with a photographic memory and a genuine love of learning. School came easy to me, I never had to study for tests or exams (at least until grade 12, when suddenly I found myself having to make an effort to get those good grades, it SUCKED!). The subject that was easiest for me was always English; I aced all the essays, words and thoughts just seemed to flow onto the page. It helped that in the eyes of Mrs. Berry, the English teacher, I could do no wrong, I was her Golden Child. She even asked to keep a copy of my "The Art of Being Cheap" short satirical essay, and years later my brothers excitedly told me that they were studying the "composition" of that very essay in their English class! Kind of thrilling: my one educational claim-to-fame, haha. Also, I do recall that grade nine math was a cinch, 100% or close to on every test. (What can I say, I loved algebra.)
5. What magazines do you subscribe to?
None at the moment. I used to subscribe to Star magazine (celeb gossip) because the school was having a magazine fundraiser and I got the subscription for like 80% off what the average person would have to pay. $20 or something for a year's subscription, can't beat that. Of course, now I just get all my celeb gossip from my favorite websites, like A Socialite's Life, Bitten and Bound, D-Listed, Celebitchy, In Case You Didn't Know, Crazy Days and Nights (great blind items), and Celebrity Smack.
Didn't I just do a post about this subject? The first nightmare I remember is the one about the grinning skeletons in the forest, hanging from nooses, while I ran frantically down a dark, narrow path. I believe I was around three or four at the time.
2. Even if you're not a sports fan, what's your favorite sport to play/watch?
I like to play soccer and badminton; I also like playing catch, and sometimes even volleyball (though I always make the ball go soaring in the opposite direction I want it to). I like to watch hockey, but only if its live; I can't stand hockey on tv because the non-stop commentary irks me (mostly because I don't understand all the jargon). I love watching the summer Olympics, especially the water sports like diving, synchronized swimming (not lane swimming though, borrrring); and the gymnastic events like the uneven bars, floor routines, balance beam, etc. I also really like figure skating. I was privileged enough last year to see Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's emotional and breath-taking Gold-winning Olympic performance. On tv, not live, didn't mean to make it sound that way. But the tv commentary person even agreed that it was second only to Torville and Dean's Olympic performance back in the 80s (which I have seen on youtube and agree that it was the most elegant, flowing, emotional, stunning ice performance EVER).
3. If you could pull off one piece of trendy fashion, what would you want it to be (jeggings, hats, thigh high boots, etc.)?
Omg, I would never wear jeggings (jean leggings), ack! But that look, of the skinny jeans/pants, is one I wish I could pull off gracefully and stylishly; instead, I'd look like an apple on toothpicks, lol! Also, I've always wished I could pull off a cool scarf, wrapped funk-ily. I now know that my own friggin' Diva Fashionista daughter, at age five, can pull off that look (thanks Granny Hag, its her new favorite outfit, she wore it to school today!) like she's been doing it all her life. She even knows three different ways to tie/wrap the scarf. And she looks amazing! So funky and cool and just plain awesome. I'd probably look like a nerd who was trying too hard to be cool. *sigh*
4. Did you make good grades in school?
Of course! I was lucky, though, to be blessed with a photographic memory and a genuine love of learning. School came easy to me, I never had to study for tests or exams (at least until grade 12, when suddenly I found myself having to make an effort to get those good grades, it SUCKED!). The subject that was easiest for me was always English; I aced all the essays, words and thoughts just seemed to flow onto the page. It helped that in the eyes of Mrs. Berry, the English teacher, I could do no wrong, I was her Golden Child. She even asked to keep a copy of my "The Art of Being Cheap" short satirical essay, and years later my brothers excitedly told me that they were studying the "composition" of that very essay in their English class! Kind of thrilling: my one educational claim-to-fame, haha. Also, I do recall that grade nine math was a cinch, 100% or close to on every test. (What can I say, I loved algebra.)
5. What magazines do you subscribe to?
None at the moment. I used to subscribe to Star magazine (celeb gossip) because the school was having a magazine fundraiser and I got the subscription for like 80% off what the average person would have to pay. $20 or something for a year's subscription, can't beat that. Of course, now I just get all my celeb gossip from my favorite websites, like A Socialite's Life, Bitten and Bound, D-Listed, Celebitchy, In Case You Didn't Know, Crazy Days and Nights (great blind items), and Celebrity Smack.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
"This Little Piggy" - the kind-hearted Ryder version
I was tickling Ryder's little feet the other night and we did the Little Piggy thing. Something I've done many times before, but he must've forgot or something because he was just thrilled, like it was the first time. You know how it goes:
"This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went wee-wee-wee, all the way home."
Well, Ryder didn't like that version. He was quite concerned about it, in fact. On the third run-through (because they're never satisfied with just one), he said, "No, mommy, this one NOT stay home. He's sad. He wants to go to market, too!" Okay, then. Got to the fourth little piggy and once again, Ryder's tender heart bled for the little piggy, "How comes he gots none? That little piggy is hungry, too!" This part is hilarious --- he grabbed the 'roast beef' piggy, turned it toward the next one, and made them 'talk' to each other: "Its okay, friend, you can have some of my roast beef.", "Okay friend pig, thank you!"
So here is our new, kind-hearted version:
"This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy came along.
This little piggy had roast beef,
And gave this little piggy some.
And this little piggy went wee-wee-wee all the way home."
What a sweet boy!
"This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went wee-wee-wee, all the way home."
Well, Ryder didn't like that version. He was quite concerned about it, in fact. On the third run-through (because they're never satisfied with just one), he said, "No, mommy, this one NOT stay home. He's sad. He wants to go to market, too!" Okay, then. Got to the fourth little piggy and once again, Ryder's tender heart bled for the little piggy, "How comes he gots none? That little piggy is hungry, too!" This part is hilarious --- he grabbed the 'roast beef' piggy, turned it toward the next one, and made them 'talk' to each other: "Its okay, friend, you can have some of my roast beef.", "Okay friend pig, thank you!"
So here is our new, kind-hearted version:
"This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy came along.
This little piggy had roast beef,
And gave this little piggy some.
And this little piggy went wee-wee-wee all the way home."
What a sweet boy!
Monday, September 13, 2010
FML
Dear Internet,
Do you know what I hate? Besides spiders, hangovers, know-it-alls, persistent stains, telemarketers... Okay, I see I need to narrow it down.
I hate that moment of realization you have when you suddenly remember that you've forgotten to do something, especially if its something long over-due. I suppose there's parents out there who've had that moment at suppertime, wondering where the kids are, then remembering they were supposed to pick them up after school! Hah.
But my moment didn't involve forgotten or misplaced children, unpaid bills, forgotten dental appointments, or the like. Nope.
My moment happened this morning, about an hour ago actually, when Lena mentioned that she needed to get something out of the motorhome. And then it hit me -- the dirty dishes! I'd completely forgotten about the mountains of dirty dishes left in the motorhome sink from last weekend's camping excursion. That last morning, Ty had treated us to a wonderful breakfast of eggs, bacon and french fries (don't mock, fries are potatoes just like hash browns, it worked, okay?). And I, in my wisdom and procrastination, decided to leave all the dirty dishes until we got home and I'd just throw them in the dishwasher. (Also influencing my decision was the fact that we couldn't use the water in the tanks due to a SMELL, and our fresh-water jug was almost out.)
So needless to say, in all the bustle and confusion of our return, unloading the dirty clothes and toiletries and suitcases and toys, the dirty dishes got left on the back-burner.
Until about an hour ago. When I had that "Ohhhhh shit!" moment.
Lena and I made the dash outside, in the rain, to the motorhome. And sure enough, the sinks were filled high with nasty, slimy, moldy plates and cups and cutlery and pots. Oh my!
So that was niiiiice. Hauling it all back inside, trying not to gag as I loaded everything in the dishwasher.
Oh, and did I mention the hundred pounds of 'camping' shoes that had been left out there as well? Dirty, stinky, crud-encrusted shoes and boots and flip-flops and rubber boots. All in need of a good washing, not to mention trying to find somewhere to store them all. So my front entry is just a big, massive pile of nasty footwear. Just another same-old SNAFU day, as usual.
Do you know what I hate? Besides spiders, hangovers, know-it-alls, persistent stains, telemarketers... Okay, I see I need to narrow it down.
I hate that moment of realization you have when you suddenly remember that you've forgotten to do something, especially if its something long over-due. I suppose there's parents out there who've had that moment at suppertime, wondering where the kids are, then remembering they were supposed to pick them up after school! Hah.
But my moment didn't involve forgotten or misplaced children, unpaid bills, forgotten dental appointments, or the like. Nope.
My moment happened this morning, about an hour ago actually, when Lena mentioned that she needed to get something out of the motorhome. And then it hit me -- the dirty dishes! I'd completely forgotten about the mountains of dirty dishes left in the motorhome sink from last weekend's camping excursion. That last morning, Ty had treated us to a wonderful breakfast of eggs, bacon and french fries (don't mock, fries are potatoes just like hash browns, it worked, okay?). And I, in my wisdom and procrastination, decided to leave all the dirty dishes until we got home and I'd just throw them in the dishwasher. (Also influencing my decision was the fact that we couldn't use the water in the tanks due to a SMELL, and our fresh-water jug was almost out.)
So needless to say, in all the bustle and confusion of our return, unloading the dirty clothes and toiletries and suitcases and toys, the dirty dishes got left on the back-burner.
Until about an hour ago. When I had that "Ohhhhh shit!" moment.
Lena and I made the dash outside, in the rain, to the motorhome. And sure enough, the sinks were filled high with nasty, slimy, moldy plates and cups and cutlery and pots. Oh my!
So that was niiiiice. Hauling it all back inside, trying not to gag as I loaded everything in the dishwasher.
Oh, and did I mention the hundred pounds of 'camping' shoes that had been left out there as well? Dirty, stinky, crud-encrusted shoes and boots and flip-flops and rubber boots. All in need of a good washing, not to mention trying to find somewhere to store them all. So my front entry is just a big, massive pile of nasty footwear. Just another same-old SNAFU day, as usual.
Where were YOU that day?
This weekend marked the nine-year anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks. Its hard to believe that so many years have passed, as that tragic event remains firm in our collective conscious and has shaped the future of both our country and our US neighbors.
I spent some time Saturday morning reading the various tributes and comments on my favorite blog sites, and the common thread throughout was that everyone remembers where they were, what they were doing, and how they heard about it. Some stories were outright hair-raising ("I worked in the south tower but had to stay home that day to care for my sick child") or just utterly tragic ("I stood on the street a few blocks away and watched the entire thing unfold, helpless to do anything other than pray").
And so all those recollections prompted me to recall my own 9/11 story.
I was about 20 weeks pregnant with Ardan at the time, and had an ultrasound booked that morning. I had taken the day off work for the appointment but had woken up early to shower and get dressed, all that. I had the tv on for Gunnar as I puttered around the house. I remember that the show he was watching was suddenly interrupted by a newscaster, relaying that a plane had just crashed into one of the Twin Towers. At that point, everyone assumed something horribly wrong had happened to the plane's flight plan, something must have happened to cause the plan to be so off-track. I sat on the couch and watched in stunned horror, Gunnar playing toys at my feet, as the second plane hit the other tower.
By this time, it was obvious that something more sinister had happened. But the idea that it could be a terrorist attack didn't enter anyone's minds until it was revealed that another plane had hit the Pentagon, and yet another one, headed toward the White House, had crashed in a field. I just sat there, sobbing (I could blame the pregnancy hormones but I think everyone's heart was breaking). When the towers fell, I remember standing up and screaming, watching those billowing gray clouds engulf everything as people frantically ran for their lives. I was almost hysterical and the need to talk to someone was overwhelming, so I called the Advocate. Incredibly, the girl on the phone had no idea what was happening and I remember screaming to her, "Turn on the tv! Get everyone upstairs! NOW!" (The cafeteria had a tv.)
It was hard to tear myself away from the tv so I could get myself ready for my appointment. I don't even remember the childcare arrangements I had for Gunnar, probably Deanna watched him for me or a sitter, but its kind of a blur. All I remember is getting picked up by the taxi and the driver and I crying together, sitting outside the medical building and listening to the radio. It was the driver who eventually reminded me that I was going to be late.
The day before, I had been excited and anxious and thrilled about the ultrasound; I couldn't wait to find out if I was having a boy or a girl, to finally see my baby on the screen, to make sure s/he was healthy. But the events of that morning changed everything. As I lay on the bed and the technician did her thing, my mind spun in horror, shock and sadness. I tried so hard to concentrate on what the tech was saying, to appear happy with her assessment. I imagine I seemed like a zombie because that's how I felt. Disconnected with what was happening as my mind replayed the image of the towers falling, over and over.
The appointment ended and I cabbed it back home, desperate to get back to the tv and to see what was happening now. The rest of the day was spent in front of the tv crying. When real life interrupted and I had to make meals, change Gunn's diapers, find activities to keep him occupied, it was all on autopilot.
The only comfort I had during that bleak day was the printed out ultrasound pictures of my baby. I kept them in my pocket and took them out repeatedly whenever I felt too overwhelmed with sadness. Seeing my baby's tiny arms and legs, seeing the dark spot of his beating heart, were what reminded me that life carries on. For every tragic moment in life, there are miracles, too.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Five Question Friday
1. Do you feel guilty spending money on yourself?
Sometimes, depending on what it is and how much. If its a new book (providing its not a freakin-expensive hardcover), then I never hesitate to get it. Especially if its a new Kresley Cole Immortals After Dark or Gena Showalter Lords of the Underworld book. But when it comes to new clothes or shoes, that's where I start hemming and hawing. I try not to spend more than $20 on a new pair of shoes, same goes for pants and shirts. To be honest with you, even though its a bit embarrassing to admit, I usually buy my 'new' clothes at the Value Village half-price sale. Its just, you know, with four kids and one income there is no way I can justify spending so much money on myself. I'd rather the kids have nice wardrobes than myself, seeing as they're the ones in the public eye more often. The last thing I bought for myself that made me feel guilty was the Turbo Jam dvds. They were $60, not including shipping and handling, and I agonized for days about whether I'd just done something incredibly stupid. But when I think about it, those dvds were what started the whole WLJ, so in the end it was a good decision.
2. How well do you know your neighbors?
I know the names of the people beside me on the left and across the street; the ones to the right of us, I can only remember the names of the woman and the little boy, can't remember the hubby or baby's names. I know that the neighbor woman across and over used to be Ardan's preschool teacher, however I can never recall her name. I know certain details of some neighbor's lives, things like so-and-so had a couple of miscarriages in the last few years (thankfully, though, the last pregnancy was carried to term and we went to their baby shower, so yay!) and the ones beside us have a baby with Down's Syndrome (and he is just the sweetest, most adorable little tyke). That one, I'm waiting for the right moment to tell her about the fairy-theory of Down's Syndrome (mom knows what I'm talking about). I'm not the type of neighbor that my bff Kelly is, though; they would have get-togethers with their neighbors all the time, girls night outs, board game nights, karaoke, Guitar Hero competitions, wine-tastings, etc. I'm just not really that type of person. Which makes me sad, in a way, because I always envisioned myself being great friends with my neighbors and having block parties and such. But really, that's not me. I prefer to keep my life private -- who knows what gossip mills are going on in the neighborhood, I wouldn't want to give them any more grist for the mill.
3. What age are you looking forward to being?
I'm enjoying being 30, to be honest I don't feel much different than I did at, say, 25. Though I DO feel more confident in myself as a woman, wife and mother. I think I'm looking forward to 35, to seeing what changes the next five years will bring about in myself and the ones I love, what our life will be like at that time.
4. Do you get excited when the mail comes? Why?
No, because I know the bulk of it will be bills and flyers. The only time I get excited for the mail is if I've ordered something online and I know its coming in, but I haven't done that for quite a while.
5. What is your earliest childhood memory?
I've seen pictures of myself from around the same time as this memory, so I figure I must have been around one-and-a-half. But I can remember being in the livingroom of our trailer, back when mom was still with Fred, cuddling on the couch with my mom and hearing Fred yelling that there was a mouse in the bedroom, and mom freaking out, "Well then kill it! KILL IT!". Mom, does that ring any bells? Maybe I just imagined it, or it was a dream, haha.
Sometimes, depending on what it is and how much. If its a new book (providing its not a freakin-expensive hardcover), then I never hesitate to get it. Especially if its a new Kresley Cole Immortals After Dark or Gena Showalter Lords of the Underworld book. But when it comes to new clothes or shoes, that's where I start hemming and hawing. I try not to spend more than $20 on a new pair of shoes, same goes for pants and shirts. To be honest with you, even though its a bit embarrassing to admit, I usually buy my 'new' clothes at the Value Village half-price sale. Its just, you know, with four kids and one income there is no way I can justify spending so much money on myself. I'd rather the kids have nice wardrobes than myself, seeing as they're the ones in the public eye more often. The last thing I bought for myself that made me feel guilty was the Turbo Jam dvds. They were $60, not including shipping and handling, and I agonized for days about whether I'd just done something incredibly stupid. But when I think about it, those dvds were what started the whole WLJ, so in the end it was a good decision.
2. How well do you know your neighbors?
I know the names of the people beside me on the left and across the street; the ones to the right of us, I can only remember the names of the woman and the little boy, can't remember the hubby or baby's names. I know that the neighbor woman across and over used to be Ardan's preschool teacher, however I can never recall her name. I know certain details of some neighbor's lives, things like so-and-so had a couple of miscarriages in the last few years (thankfully, though, the last pregnancy was carried to term and we went to their baby shower, so yay!) and the ones beside us have a baby with Down's Syndrome (and he is just the sweetest, most adorable little tyke). That one, I'm waiting for the right moment to tell her about the fairy-theory of Down's Syndrome (mom knows what I'm talking about). I'm not the type of neighbor that my bff Kelly is, though; they would have get-togethers with their neighbors all the time, girls night outs, board game nights, karaoke, Guitar Hero competitions, wine-tastings, etc. I'm just not really that type of person. Which makes me sad, in a way, because I always envisioned myself being great friends with my neighbors and having block parties and such. But really, that's not me. I prefer to keep my life private -- who knows what gossip mills are going on in the neighborhood, I wouldn't want to give them any more grist for the mill.
3. What age are you looking forward to being?
I'm enjoying being 30, to be honest I don't feel much different than I did at, say, 25. Though I DO feel more confident in myself as a woman, wife and mother. I think I'm looking forward to 35, to seeing what changes the next five years will bring about in myself and the ones I love, what our life will be like at that time.
4. Do you get excited when the mail comes? Why?
No, because I know the bulk of it will be bills and flyers. The only time I get excited for the mail is if I've ordered something online and I know its coming in, but I haven't done that for quite a while.
5. What is your earliest childhood memory?
I've seen pictures of myself from around the same time as this memory, so I figure I must have been around one-and-a-half. But I can remember being in the livingroom of our trailer, back when mom was still with Fred, cuddling on the couch with my mom and hearing Fred yelling that there was a mouse in the bedroom, and mom freaking out, "Well then kill it! KILL IT!". Mom, does that ring any bells? Maybe I just imagined it, or it was a dream, haha.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
WTG Lena!
So today was Lena's first full day of kindergarten. She was so excited that when I tapped on her bedroom door this morning, bright and early at 6:45am, by the time I whispered "Lena, time to wake up" -- she had already sprung up out of bed with a huge smile on her face. (Quite the difference from her usual way of waking, "Uhhh, go away, I'm still sleeping!")
With much care and consideration, she picked out an outfit; had breakfast with her brothers while I packed lunches. Got her backpack all ready with lunchkit inside, found her shoes and coat, then watched a cartoon. All the while she kept one eye on the clock, "Mom, is it time to go yet?" Just so anxious and excited to ride the bus and head to school.
Finally, it was time to go. The usual school-morning rush ensued, then they were gone, out the door, with two very forlorn individuals left in the house, watching them out the window. We just didn't know what to do with ourselves!
Here's a quick run-down of me and Ryder's day: cartoons, breakfast, coloring, Thomas episode, Megablocks, magnets, snack, bowling (not real bowling, just these little toys he has), stencils, another cartoon, lunch, trucks, another Thomas episode, nap (THANK GOD), and then finally, finally, the kids were home from school. (I had no idea how exhausting it is trying to keep a 2 year old happy and entertained all day, Lena made it look easy. Can't believe I have two more years of this!!!!)
So when Lena and the boys returned home, I was so excited to see her and hear all about her day. She was just going a mile a minute, telling me about recess and the playground, her new friend, music time (Gunnar's grade four teacher, Mr Renfrew, is now the music teacher and I guess he taught the class a "really hilarious" song that is now her "favorite song"), lunch ("All the kids were like 'woooooo' when they saw I had cookies! Thanks, Mom!"), story time, etc etc.
But the best she saved for last: "Mom, I'm the Razzle Dazzle Kid!" She pulled a booklet out of her backpack, attached to it was a large ziploc with a "special" book inside. I opened the booklet and there was an explanatory note inside:
"Your child was selected as the RAZZLE DAZZLE KID for the day. Your child would have been the line leader for the class train, held the door for others to safely pass through, assisted the teacher in class errands, and helped students in the class in kind and thoughtful ways.
As part of the Razzle Dazzle Kid's activities we are sending home a coil binder and a special book called The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn. Please read this book with your child and then complete the activity either as a family or just the two of you.
You and your child need to trace your hands either onto the next blank page of the coil binder or get creative and trace your hands onto colored paper or wrapping paper and then paste your prints into the coil binder."
Isn't that just fabulous?? I am SO proud of her! On her very first full day of school, she earned this award for her wonderful behaviour.
What a special little girl!
With much care and consideration, she picked out an outfit; had breakfast with her brothers while I packed lunches. Got her backpack all ready with lunchkit inside, found her shoes and coat, then watched a cartoon. All the while she kept one eye on the clock, "Mom, is it time to go yet?" Just so anxious and excited to ride the bus and head to school.
Finally, it was time to go. The usual school-morning rush ensued, then they were gone, out the door, with two very forlorn individuals left in the house, watching them out the window. We just didn't know what to do with ourselves!
Here's a quick run-down of me and Ryder's day: cartoons, breakfast, coloring, Thomas episode, Megablocks, magnets, snack, bowling (not real bowling, just these little toys he has), stencils, another cartoon, lunch, trucks, another Thomas episode, nap (THANK GOD), and then finally, finally, the kids were home from school. (I had no idea how exhausting it is trying to keep a 2 year old happy and entertained all day, Lena made it look easy. Can't believe I have two more years of this!!!!)
So when Lena and the boys returned home, I was so excited to see her and hear all about her day. She was just going a mile a minute, telling me about recess and the playground, her new friend, music time (Gunnar's grade four teacher, Mr Renfrew, is now the music teacher and I guess he taught the class a "really hilarious" song that is now her "favorite song"), lunch ("All the kids were like 'woooooo' when they saw I had cookies! Thanks, Mom!"), story time, etc etc.
But the best she saved for last: "Mom, I'm the Razzle Dazzle Kid!" She pulled a booklet out of her backpack, attached to it was a large ziploc with a "special" book inside. I opened the booklet and there was an explanatory note inside:
"Your child was selected as the RAZZLE DAZZLE KID for the day. Your child would have been the line leader for the class train, held the door for others to safely pass through, assisted the teacher in class errands, and helped students in the class in kind and thoughtful ways.
As part of the Razzle Dazzle Kid's activities we are sending home a coil binder and a special book called The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn. Please read this book with your child and then complete the activity either as a family or just the two of you.
You and your child need to trace your hands either onto the next blank page of the coil binder or get creative and trace your hands onto colored paper or wrapping paper and then paste your prints into the coil binder."
Isn't that just fabulous?? I am SO proud of her! On her very first full day of school, she earned this award for her wonderful behaviour.
What a special little girl!
Friday, September 3, 2010
Five Question Friday
1. What do you do when you have time to yourself?
Take a leisurely bubble bath with a good book or two; re-read one of my favorite Immortals After Dark books; browse the good internet celeb gossip sites; check out facebook updates and add comments to friend's pages; call a friend for a nice long chit-chat; go through the latest Ikea catalogue and make a lengthy wishlist, one for each room in the house; lastly, take a nap.
2. When you look out your kitchen window, what do you see?
First thing I see is a dusty, dirty screen that needs washing (HA, like that will ever get done), then I see part of the back alley, but mostly just the backyards of the houses across the way.
3. Who/What would you want to be reincarnated as?
Ooooh, good question. I definitely believe in reincarnation, but aside from comments like "I'd like to come back as a cat so I could sleep the day away" (as I watch lazy Pabby doze for hours at a time), I haven't put much thought into it. I think I'd like to be reincarnated as an animal, one that lives free and far from humans, where I could prowl and hunt and soar above the earth. So maybe... an eagle?
4. What is your biggest pet peeve about other people's kids?
Too many to list. Haha, I'm nice. Let's see: bad manners, disrespect to elders, rudeness, dirty snotty faces, greed, ungratefulness, hyperactivity, meanness towards other children (or people) who are different, mean-spirited teasing, back-talk, and ignorance. Not saying my own children haven't displayed some of these characteristics at one time or other, but NEVER any of the really bad ones. If I see behaviour being displayed that goes against my own morals or beliefs, I nip it in the bud right quick and will explain to my child why we do not behave like that. At the fair this year, Ardan wasn't paying attention to where he was going and knocked into an older lady. He blithely carried on so I grabbed his arm right then and there, stopping him in his tracks, and firmly demanded he find the lady and apologize. She was shocked to see this kid run up to her, but boy was she impressed when he profusely and sincerely apologized. I knew he was in that "fair-days daze", only noticing the flashing lights and movement and sounds, but it didn't excuse his inattention and lack of instant apology. And he knew it, and was honestly regretful and sorry.
5. Regular or Diet soda?
Okay, I am NOT going to say 'DP'. Instead, I will just say 'diet'.
Take a leisurely bubble bath with a good book or two; re-read one of my favorite Immortals After Dark books; browse the good internet celeb gossip sites; check out facebook updates and add comments to friend's pages; call a friend for a nice long chit-chat; go through the latest Ikea catalogue and make a lengthy wishlist, one for each room in the house; lastly, take a nap.
2. When you look out your kitchen window, what do you see?
First thing I see is a dusty, dirty screen that needs washing (HA, like that will ever get done), then I see part of the back alley, but mostly just the backyards of the houses across the way.
3. Who/What would you want to be reincarnated as?
Ooooh, good question. I definitely believe in reincarnation, but aside from comments like "I'd like to come back as a cat so I could sleep the day away" (as I watch lazy Pabby doze for hours at a time), I haven't put much thought into it. I think I'd like to be reincarnated as an animal, one that lives free and far from humans, where I could prowl and hunt and soar above the earth. So maybe... an eagle?
4. What is your biggest pet peeve about other people's kids?
Too many to list. Haha, I'm nice. Let's see: bad manners, disrespect to elders, rudeness, dirty snotty faces, greed, ungratefulness, hyperactivity, meanness towards other children (or people) who are different, mean-spirited teasing, back-talk, and ignorance. Not saying my own children haven't displayed some of these characteristics at one time or other, but NEVER any of the really bad ones. If I see behaviour being displayed that goes against my own morals or beliefs, I nip it in the bud right quick and will explain to my child why we do not behave like that. At the fair this year, Ardan wasn't paying attention to where he was going and knocked into an older lady. He blithely carried on so I grabbed his arm right then and there, stopping him in his tracks, and firmly demanded he find the lady and apologize. She was shocked to see this kid run up to her, but boy was she impressed when he profusely and sincerely apologized. I knew he was in that "fair-days daze", only noticing the flashing lights and movement and sounds, but it didn't excuse his inattention and lack of instant apology. And he knew it, and was honestly regretful and sorry.
5. Regular or Diet soda?
Okay, I am NOT going to say 'DP'. Instead, I will just say 'diet'.
Get out the tissues
Australian cancer patient Kristian Anderson created this video as a birthday tribute to his wife for supporting him through chemotherapy. He managed to wrangle Hugh Jackman and New Zealand Prime Minister John Key to make cameos.
This is incredibly touching and moving... make sure you have your tissues!
Rachel's Birthday Video from Kristian Anderson on Vimeo.
This is incredibly touching and moving... make sure you have your tissues!
Rachel's Birthday Video from Kristian Anderson on Vimeo.
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