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Showing posts from October, 2011

halloween 2011

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Today was Halloween. Ten random things: Mitchell was a pirate, not a kangaroo. More on that later. Kids can have a fantastic day, full of candy, Halloween parties, costumes of choice, school fun, trick or treating, grandparents, aunties, cousins and gorgeous outdoor evening weather, and still find something to cry themselves to sleep over. Tennyson was a pirate. Scarily, it really suited him. Jordan was a butterfly, if a little less than obviously so. Elliot was a little purple dragon. That same little purple dragon has now been sighted on Halloween nights for six years - the last four of them on this very block. I ate far less Halloween candy this year than any other Halloween I can think of - ever. I bought far more Halloween candy this year than any other Halloween with the intentions of actually not running out before the trick-or- treaters did. Unfortunately we had far fewer kids this year and now I have extra candy. I didn't count on that. The last few kids left the doorstep

second last day of blogtober

My Blogtober has been slightly less than successful. Not that I didn't get some posts up here, but it certainly wasn't every day! It's now a few minutes after midnight, but in the interest of getting something up today I'm going to pretend it's still Sunday. Tonight I met up with some blogger friends in Winnipeg. We ate, we visited, we played a game, and we did a lot of laughing. Did I mention it's now after midnight? It's all pumpkins and rags now. A fun evening was had by all. It was nice to do some catching up - and it was nice to see you again Candice! I know that you have lots of friends and family to visit before you head back over to Montreal and it's pretty awesome that you manage to fit us in. :) Kids? My kids are pretty great. A little extra "spunky" some days, but pretty awesome overall. I'd go into details, but it's after midnight and I'm just impressed at how few spelling mistakes I'm backspacing right now. Tomorro

hockey? oh no, not that again

I went to Grey's Night at a friend's house tonight. Everything was fine until I realized that nobody was going to push play on the PVR until the hockey game was over. I'm not even Catholic, but I have now endured and survived purgatory. I am so glad that Steven isn't into sports. I don't have to suffer through hours of football or hockey. I don't lose my husband during the playoffs, or the Stanley Bowl or football players rubbing each other's bums while they wait to get their hands all over the ball. We watch TV shows about zombies and grumpy doctors. I sit through the occasional super hero movie. All is well. I kid though - if you want to watch five minutes of hockey I'll humor you. If you want to invite me over for the Stanley Cup playoffs I may come for the snacks. I'll likely bring my laptop and possibly be (more than) somewhat disruptive. I might secretly video tape you hopping around and swearing, and dump it onto youtube before the game ends.

pet names

Over the years Steven and I have used various pet names with the kids. They've never stuck to the point where others have used them, but we do! Probably more me than Steven. I think Steven calls them all baby from time to time, but it's starting to be limited more to Elliot. Jordan : Beautiful Monster (Steven, as a baby), Joe, Josephine, Princess Patricia Tennyson : Monkey Man, Yeti, Sonny Boy, Tenn, Tenny (that would be Steven's. I don't like it.) Mitchell : Punkin Pie, Mitchie Bear (after he was born we said this so much that even the older two kids called him that), Mitchie Boo, Mitch, Punkin Pie Elliot : Petunia, Menace, Ellie, El, Babykins , Fatty Pants (she loves that one I'm sure), Pork Chop, Baby Pie Overall : Minions (a lot), Entourage, Stinker, Stinker Pants. Then there's stuff like Honey, Honey Bunny, Sweetie, etc. It's funny how we spend months thinking up the perfect names, only to distort and change them after the babies come.
How do I keep missing days? I honestly didn't think I had until I logged in here and saw that the last post was on Sunday.

free to good home

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I am the most forgetful Blogtoberer ever this year! I think this should count. For real (as Mitchie now says).
Soooo tired . . . It's not even midnight on a Friday night. I am so old.

keep it real, zombie makers, keep it real!

We've been watching the Walking Dead series. It's about Zombies. You know there are slim pickins on TV when we start watching series about Zombies. I dreamed about zombies last night. Actually, I dreamed that it was my friend Angela's birthday so we had to go out and party even though I knew it wasn't safe. Didn't want to hurt her feelings. I figure it's pretty nervy of her to expect us to get a sitter and be separated from our kids so that we could stay late at her house and then brave the zombies on the way home. Anyway, my question is this: do you really, really think that there would be cities overrun with zombies? Not to look for loopholes in an obviously sound premise, but apparently the only way to turn into a zombie is to be bitten by zombies. Um - do you see how those zombies bite? They don't walk by and playfully nip at your ear. They leap at you and while you're still alive they begin tearing chunks off you. Then all their zombie friends cat
I wonder if there's any way to post and back date it? Oops. Not that there isn't stuff to blog about, but I'm easily distracted. Ooh moth! Kidding, no moths here. Nor are there bedbugs. There seems to be an infestation of small blondish animals though. Not sure what to do about them, although I'm guessing I could bait the traps with peanut butter and chocolate milk.
Not sure if anybody noticed, but I finished my walking ticker! I had wanted to walk/run 1000 miles this year and I've now hit 1037, and that's not with today's 6 added in. Go me!
Yesterday as we were leaving the pet store, the kids asked if they could have some licorice. I said sure. I gave them each a piece. I was about to give Elliot the last one when Steven said: "Wait, is that the last one? None for me?" "You can have half of this one" I replied, tearing it in two. I handed it to him. He took a bite before I said: "I ripped it apart with the hands I used to play with the gecko." With a pukey face: "Ugh. Didn't you use that sanitizer on the wall?" "I meant to, but I forgot." "Ugh" gag, more pukey face. Continues eating. "I don't know if I can keep eating this." More bites, more yucky face. "And I sat on the floor. I must have touched it with my hands as I got up and down. And I petted a bird. I might have monkeyed around in the hamster cage. There was also that guinea pig, but he ran and hid right away so I didn't touch him much. The bunnies were cute and fuzzy." More

gecko

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Yesterday Steven, the kids and I went to Winnipeg for winter coats and skates for various kids. While we were there we stopped at Staples on Pembina . I can’t stop there without wandering through Petland after. I asked one of the workers a few questions about the geckos. I’ ve always thought it would be really really cool to have one someday, but have never looked into it seriously. I’m hooked. I want one. I held it, the older two kids held it, it climbed around on our hands and jumped from my forearm to my shoulder. It was all cute with it’s sticky little feet and it’s round little toes. I went on Kijiji last night, and people apparently breed them in their homes. They sell for anywhere between $25 and $50. The one at the store had been on sale for $177. Even more hooked. Now I just have to get Steven on board so that when I bring one home he’s not entirely annoyed. Besides, how could he say no to this little face? Actually, I really like the Dalmatian Crested Geckos: Stay tune

more on NaNoWriMo

November - National Novel Writing Month. I've tried the past few years to write a novel. Each time I've failed and died a little inside. It's hard! I've been planning my novel. I have scenes in my head. SCENES! This is the year baby. If I actually do it and . . . wait, WHEN I actually do it and get it done I'm going to treat myself to some overpriced NaNoWriMo goods. Did you know that they make a coffee mug? That's how I roll. Write a novel in a month so that I can justify the purchase of a coffee mug, because it's not like I can just save myself the grief and go to Dollarama for one. Besides, Dollarama's mugs don't have the nifty NaNoWriMo logos on them. *** You'll be saddened to hear that I just checked the site. They no longer have the NaNoWriMo mugs. Instead, they have either a Script Frenzy mug (it's an entirely different writing project) or the NaNoWriMo ceramic coffee mug . I may have to settle for that. Now I'm thrown. My

dinnertime/breakfast time woes

Suppertime is such a performance sometimes. Why is it so hard to get kids to eat their supper? Last winter I started cooking all these fun meals out of these healthy living cookbooks. There was pasta, cheese, cooked spinach (I love spinach in foods), stir fries, fun burgers, etc. The kids would see a hint of green and spend the next twenty minutes moaning and choking it down. That's the older two. The younger two wouldn't even pretend to try. Eventually I kind of gave up and went back to the regular five dinners that I remake over and over and over and just made sure to serve them with salads and veggies. Jordan eats. Tennyson whines about not liking noodles, potatoes or vegetables but usually we can bully him into eating his dinner. Who doesn't like any side that goes with beef or chicken? Seriously? Not liking pasta? Or potatoes? Or rice unless it's floating in sweet and sour sauce? Good grief. I'm so glad that their pickiness is so individual to each child. Tha
Can I just list some stuff I want to blog about and call it my blog for today? Tennyson's dog. Today's picture session. One might come yet tonight, but then again maybe not.

unicef

On Friday I picked Jordan up from school and she announced that she had an assembly that day. I asked her what the assembly was about. "School in a box," she replied. "What's a school in a box?" I asked. "We get money and stuff and put the school in a box." "What on earth are you talking about?" "For kids! And we send the school in a box to Australia." "Um, do you mean Operate Christmas Child, where we get a shoe box and fill it full of school supplies for a needy child somewhere?" "Nope. Mommy ," she said, a little exasperated because I wasn't catching on, being that this was all so obvious. "We get a school in a box and we send it to Australia ." "Do you have a paper for me to read about this?" I asked, hoping that this was going to become more obvious once I got home. "Yep." I thought about it for a minute - what else besides Operation Christmas Child would require kids to se

van conversations

Tennyson : When I'm six how old will Jordan be? Me : Eight. Tennyson : When I'm seven how old will Jordan be? Me : Nine. Tennyson : When I'm ten how old will Jordan be? Me : Tennyson, Jordan is two years older than you. You can take any age and add two and that's how old Jordan will be. So when you're ten how old do you think Jordan will be? Tennyson : (thinks for a second) Twelve! Me : Right. You can always just add two. Even when you're a grownup you can add two. Jordan : So Tennyson will never pass me? I've told them before that when they're grownups Tennyson will be taller than her. This has her a little confused I think. Me : Nope. He may be taller, but you'll always be older. When Tennyson is 30 you'll be 32 and Mitchie will be 29. You'll always be the oldest. Tennyson : What happens when kids don't have a dad? Me : I don't know any kids who don't have a dad, do you? Tennyson : No, but when I'm a dad I can be their da
Oh no! I forgot to blog yesterday! Shame on me.

the baby just sucked on my toe. ew.

Today I planned on reading far fewer blogs than I did. I forgive myself. Because not forgiving people only hurts you in the end. I did manage to clean all three bathrooms, make stew, vacuum, do dishes and sweep ridiculous amounts of toast and cheerios off the dining room floor. My stew is beginning to smell fantastic, by the way. I wish I had something more profound to write about. There is just not a whole lot of profoundness sometimes. What's new here? Well last night I was sleeping by 10. That's about it. I'm still tired today. I have no idea how to shake this tiredness. I think I may have to hire someone to come every day between 1 and 3 so I can nap. I never understand why kids are so crabby about their afternoon nap. Imagine your day going like this: Get up in the morning. Run around and play until someone lets you know that it's breakfast time. That same someone places your meal in front of you, your bananas carefully cut into pieces in your cereal, or you have

Elliot

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My baby. I affectionately refer to her as a menace. I smile and say it to her with my happy mommy/baby voice and she giggles evilly and with much joy that Mommy is obviously saying something funny to her. I was going to relish my last baby - the baby fuzz head, the sweet baby smell, the tiny baby cuddles. Elliot had her own ideas from the start. She's never been cuddly. She's lovey and likes to be around me, and she wants to be up in my arms, but she won't cuddle. She just wants a perch to look around. She gets angry if I sit down. I am her mommy chariot. If I want to sit with her at the table I had better have some good incentive. Elliot doesn't eat. At least not anything I try to feed her. Things she won't eat: meat vegetables boiled eggs noodles potatoes soup pasta sauce rice cantaloupe oranges pineapple honeydew squash did I mention meat and vegetables? Those food groups are pretty much off her list. Things she will eat: bread cereal milk coffee (she climbs on t

my boys

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These are my boys. Aren't they cute? You'll notice they both had haircuts today. I wasn't going to do it - I do love Mitchie's crazy mop and curls, but his hair is so fine and mad-scientist, and on Tuesday we're getting family pictures done so I thought maybe a little tidying wouldn't hurt. My boys are awesome. They are funny, affectionate and different as night and day. Their personalities are very different, they look different, their energy levels are different. Tennyson is big for his age while Mitchell is average. Mitchie is white/blond while Tennyson's hair is threatening to darken up more than it already is. Tennyson's eyes are green, Mitchie's are blue. Mitchie has Daddy's nose, Tennyson has mine. You'd never guess that they're only 15.5 months apart. They are also fantastic friends. That's not to say that they don't scrap like crazy too, but they play wonderfully together a lot of the time. Most days Tennyson begs me

laundry

The thing about Blogtober is that being forced to write everyday ends up meaning that the topics aren't maybe as interesting as they are in posts tossed up here when something more interesting happens. I'm slacking today. On my to-do list for today (the "musts" - the list isn't really this short) are the following tasks: sweep and mop linoleums vacuum put away laundry, maybe wash a load or two more I haven't done any of this. Jordan keeps complaining (she's such a princess) that she has no pants, or is it Mitchell? It could be both. Confession: I had to get Mitchie's pants from the dirty laundry basket this morning. I came home from diaper gym with the intention of quickly vacuuming before getting lunch ready. Then I think I ended up on the computer and then it was suddenly lunch time, and every mom knows that pushing back lunch twenty minutes also means pushing back nap by twenty minutes. That's not about to happen - especially now that I have t

biking

Hey, Steven left the remote control over here on my couch! Excellent. He's watching American Dad right now, and I hate that show. I'm almost embarrassed when I watch it. It's one of those shows Steven likes and I hate. Tomorrow House starts - that one I like. I wonder how annoyed he'd be if I changed the channel on him. I took the kids biking today. I think they scared the daylights out of a woman along the way. She was standing on the sidewalk and talking to a friend. My kids went buzzing past her toward a busy intersection. In her defense, it scares me too. I find myself hollering at them a lot to stop when they near the intersections. Today though, I didn't. They stopped on their own at each and every intersection and waited for me and Mitchell to catch up and to get the all-clear from me before carrying on. It's awesome. The poor lady was yelling "No, no no!" at them and started after them before she realized that they had stopped on their own. It

Blogtober, Day 1

I'm baking cookies. I'm actually not a fan of baking cookies - I think that in my "motherhood fantasy " I see myself happily baking cookies in a funky retro apron with my kids beside me, smiling away and helping, evidenced by their lightly floured noses. In reality I'd rather just go and buy Golden Oreos from Walmart . When I do bake I wait until the kids are occupied and then quickly throw everything together and get it baking so that I can just do it myself and get it over with. I suppose every once in a while I let them dump in a few ingredients. When I was a kid my mom would sometimes bake. Not very often though, unless you count rice krispie cake. When she did, she'd make monster cookies, cowboy cookies, banana muffins or bran muffins. Sometimes she'd throw together a puffed wheat cake, but I never liked that. My favorite cookies today are still the ones my mom made, and I use the recipes she uses. Monster cookies are baking in the oven as we speak.