tiffany's spot

I was driving down Saskatchewan Ave., all four kids in the back. We had decided to go for donuts and find Daddy and say hi to him before heading home. You can tell how excited we are about being in the house after the 19 months of winter we've just had. We were parked at a red light at Royal road and the light turned green. The light ahead turned green. Traffic was so backed up (I know, weird phenomenon for Portage) that it took a minute for everyone to get going, and we were just sitting in the middle of the intersection waiting. "Oh come on people," I exclaimed. "Mommy!" scolded Jordan. "What?" "Don't say that!" she said. "I didn't say anything bad!" I responded. Often the kids will hear me say something and assume I've said "Dumb, stupid, crap, ass, etc." - all of which are bad words. "Don't say 'come on people,'" she said. I laughed. "Why?" "Because then ...

Steven : You know, I don't know if I should be fodder for your blog posts. Me : What do you mean? Steven : Well, I don't know, sometimes I come off looking a little, well . . . Me : Alright. Which one? Steven : The last one. Me : Remind me. What was it about? Steven : Pie. Me : (laughs) Steven : You know, you could have put in there that you didn't say not to get the pie. Me : It's funny!

Steven : Ugh, I don't know if I really feel like going out to get pie. But I really want pie. Tiffany : Well, that depends. How badly do you want to get thinner? Steven : Well, not as badly as I want pie right now. We both laugh, and laugh. Because we're funny. Tiffany : This is why we're fat. Because we think it's funny. Steven : Yeah. More laughter. We really are hilarious. Tiffany : I pretty much knew earlier that when you brought up pie there would be pie. Steven : (less than sheepishly): Yeah. (Groans as he puts his shoes on around his 'school weight') I can still totally come back from this.

Steven finished school on Friday. Remember nine weeks ago when I vowed that on Steven's first day back at work I was going to get up at the crack of before-dawn and run outside? One should never vow anything. Whatever. I'll do it. My "training" has been really pathetic this year. I actually started running a few days a week for a couple of weeks, and then I got hit by this really awesome plague that ended up being diagnosed as strep throat six days after it started. I spent that entire week on the couch before some really awesome doctors gave me some really awesome meds (three different prescriptions, par-tay) and I finally kicked it, but in the process I kind of forgot I was supposed to be running four or five times a week. Oops. Whatever. Right. Monday. My friend Sherri, who is a little nuts (side note - I once got shit from a university prof for all my super fun coma splices. for a while i was coma allergic after that, good thing i got over it...), wants ...

Seriously, what's wrong with your pants? "Oh hey! You have my pants! I'll just strip, right here in the hallway outside the change rooms, where everybody walks."  "Problem solved. Why are you taking pictures anyway? You shouldn't be laughing. You should be embarrassed. I'm naked here. In the hallway." "Hey! Why does he get to take off his pants? Let's all get nekkid!" "Yay! Pants that fit! Don't look at our gitchies." Boys.

I've got these two very sweet, very special girls. I took them to Tim's for a super special girls' coffee date. Check them out. Aren't they awesome? I know, right? How long do you think it took before this:  became this...   and this... and finally, this? I do have hope, that someday, she'll be able to eat a chocolate donut, and still look like this:

I just commented on someone's blog, and my blog address didn't automatically pop up when I was entering the "required fields." Probably because I'm the worst blogger ever ! ( ever is said with somewhat an evil character voice) Then I got thinking that perhaps I'm not really a blogger, but that's okay, because I'm so many other things. Then I realized that not only do I start a lot of sentences with 'then,' thus eliminating much of my blog following, but I am also not a lot of other things. It's really true. Like, really. Things Tiffany Is Not (apparently) a cleaner (honestly, I used to try to tell my friends that my house was way cleaner before I had kids, but really, who I am kidding. I dust five times a year.) a baker (i'm not even going to explain this) a chef (oh, I can fry hamburger and onions and then add stuff with the best of them, but aside from the five meal rotation? not a lot of fun suppers here these days) a ...