Tiffany's Spot

100 things about me, part 2

2012-01-31T19:35:00.002-06:00

26. I wear size ten shoes. I'm sure you really wanted to know that. Sometimes my friends come over and I see their cute little tiny shoes in the doorway and I'm a little embarrassed by my giant ones sitting next to them. Then I remember just how short my friends are - like playing limbo without having to lean over. You know who you are.
27. I threaten to sell my kids to the gypsies sometimes. They ask who the gypsies are. I tell them that the gypsies are the people they're going to live with.
28. My favorite Disney movie as a kid was Sleeping Beauty. Now I watch it and wonder where the character development is. Don't even get me started on falling in love with a guy who stalks a woman through the bush and then steps in and dances with her before she realizes what's going on.
29. I'd love to swim laps, but I'm too cheap to pay $8 each time, especially since I wouldn't last that long for the first while. $8 for half hour of lap swimming?
30. As a teenager my favorite shows were Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek: The Next Generation, The X-Files, The Outer Limits, and General Hospital.
31. Now I watch: House, The Biggest Loser, Modern Family, Grey's Anatomy, Once Upon a Time, Desperate Housewives, The Walking Dead and Big Bang Theory. It does seem like a lot. Thankfully, there aren't new episodes of everything every week.
32. I always wanted four kids, and yes I know what causes it.
33. There are a million things I would change about my house if the budget allowed! Someday.
34. If I win the lottery I'm going to pick a beautiful piece of land in the country someday and build a new house.
35. I have a prosthetic eye. I'm less embarrassed by having it than I am of why I have it.
36. My mom used to yell "I'll give you something to cry about!" I thought it was silly. As if that would have the desired effect. Now I totally understand.
37. I was always envious of my brother's toys as a kid. Boy stuff just seemed cooler.
38. I don't really enjoy quadding or snowmobiling. Too fast. Too scary. I don't mind quadding if I'm driving and I'm on a road. That off-road, sideways up the hill stuff creeps me out.
39. I used to own a horse. I enjoyed that. Again, going up steep hills wasn't as fun as one might think.
40. My first job was at my Grandma's restaurant in Austin, MB. Even after all these years it was probably my favorite.
41. I love camping. The work involved and the disorganization of my stuff once we get camping kind of irritates me. The camping itself kind of makes up for it.
42. Eight more? Tonight? Really?
43. I'm totally counting that last one.
44. I don't even feel guilty about it.
45. I don't actually have favorite singers. In fact, I don't even know who most of the popular people are these days. When I hear a song on the radio I remember that I like the song. I don't know who sang it, whether it's old or new, what it's called, and once it's over I promptly forget about it until I hear it again.
46. I'm currently trying to out-wait my boys into eating their dinners. They have horrible eating habits lately, the most annoying of which is that they just push their food around at dinner time until I let them go. Not today. We're going on an hour and a half of sitting right now. Jordan's in her pjs and having a story. It's actually bedtime. They can sit here all night looking mad for all I care.
47. If someone offered me a cream cheese cinnamon bun for one of them right now I'd probably make the deal.
48. Dogs yes, cats definitely not.
49. I want to learn to make homemade perogies.
50. One of my fantasies is to check into a hotel room for a couple of nights all by myself with nothing but my pjs and some books. Emphasis on all by myself.

can i read to you?

2012-01-31T14:08:00.001-06:00

Jordan: Mitchell, do you want me to read you your library book? Lucky Duck?
Mitchell: Yeah!
Tennyson: No! She's making you smush your brain!
Jordan. No. Only TV does that, not books.

Jordan loves to read. She especially loves to read to people; me, Steven, the boys and her baby sister. Elliot has learned to sit nicely on Jordan's little lap and be read to. The first few times Jordan tried she had to forcibly clench her in her arms while Elliot struggled to escape, all while managing somehow to hold and read a book. It was pretty entertaining to watch.

It's no surprise that she's a reader. We've always read to our kids. I'm pretty sure I bought story books for her while I was still pregnant with her. I remember a few times laying on the queen sized bed beside my infant daughter and reading to her from the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe (not that I ever actually read the complete works). When she got a little older she'd sit on my lap and I'd read while trying to keep her from tearing pages out of the books. After she'd settle down I'd have her find a hat or a tree or a cloud. She loved searching for things on the pages. It helped learned colors and numbers and vocabulary. Once she learned what a J looked like she'd interrupt my story-telling to show me the Js she found in the text.

We've done the same things with the boys and they too love to be read to. Now Ellie can often be found sitting with a book, upside down or right side up, flipping pages, and talking to herself as if she's reading. I love it!

i want you mommy!

2012-01-27T11:59:00.001-06:00

I just got home from diaper gym and the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number and was going to let it go to the machine, but then I thought better of it and picked up.

Yes I'm one of "those" people.

It was Jordan calling from the student phone at school. She was sniffling and told me tearfully that she fell down and that she wanted me. Being that I just got home and unpacked everyone from their snowsuits I wasn't about to load everyone up to run to the school and hug her. Even though I wanted to. Instead I asked her about her day and we talked about the snow hill and who was on the top of the hill and how many slides were on it. She told me who she was going to play with and that she hadn't had lunch yet. I let her talk until she felt better and ended the call.

I know it was the right thing to do, and that if I had gone racing to the school she'd have been fine and running around with her friends before I even got everyone loaded into the van. Still, I feel bad that I'm not there when she needed me.

I'll admit, I was a little teary when I hung up the phone, and I feel a little guilty for saying no.

Does it ever end?

When I was a kid I had a few cavities in a few of my baby teeth. The dentist pulled them and put in spacers to keep everything nice and straight for my adult teeth to come in. Not exactly a major dental surgery. My mom told me some time ago that after we had the initial appointment and found out what was going to happen she cried the whole way home, trying not to let us kids see her tears. She felt so bad for me.

I kind of laughed when she told me that. Now here I am, all sad because my daughter tripped and fell at school and I wasn't there to hug her, dust her off and send her on her way.

backyard skating

2012-01-26T23:59:00.000-06:00

Steven made a skating rink in the back yard. Yesterday the kids finally put on their skates and headed out, or, to be more precise, they headed out into the yard and then changed into their skates once they got where they were going. First they shoveled off the ice and sneaked into the garage to find their skates. They are very industrious.

Once I realized that they had shoveled the snow off the ice and were putting on skates I figured I should probably assist them. I slipped on my own boots (my jacket wasn't really needed - beautiful winter weather lately!) and joined them. I tightened Tennyson's skates up and then turned to Jordan. She had tied her own skates but it was obvious when watching her that they weren't nearly tight enough. I glanced at her feet and then looked again.

"Jordan," I said. "Those are not your skates. They're huge!"
"Yes they are mine!" she said.
I looked again. "Nope," I laughed. "They're Daddy's."

Apparently hers hadn't been in the bag she had looked in so she chose the next closest pair. It was cute. Back into the garage we went. A few minutes later she was back on the bench and getting laced into her own skates. Happily, we also found some missing tuques and mitts in the bag we hadn't looked in since October.

At first the kids laughed as they slipped and fell and slipped and fell and laid on the ice. It wasn't long before Tennyson's frustration got the better of him and he cried and moaned and went back inside. Jordan stayed out on the ice by herself a while longer. I checked on her every once in a while, and though it was obvious she was getting more tired and clumsy, she was also becoming a little steadier.

Today after school Jordan dumped all her school stuff at the front door and then gathered up her ski pants and skates and left the house through the back door. I followed her out and laced her up. Ten minutes later I decided that the boys were going to go outside too, so I shut off the TV and dropped them into their ski pants and ushered them out the back door. I put Tennyson back into his skates and set him loose on the ice. Mitchell just ran around doing Mitchie things.

I went back in to supervise Elliot, and kept an eye on the goings-on in the backyard through the dining room window. It was obvious that Jordan was quickly catching on. Her shuffle-shuffle-runningshuffle-fall was turning into push-glide-push-glide-windmillingarms-fall. I opened the back door and called out my encouragement and praise for her obvious ice-skating growth. She was rosy cheeked and pink nosed and excited and wanted me to come out and watch closer. I agreed. Moments later Elliot was in her snowsuit and we joined the other two on the ice. Elliot and Mitchell ran and crawled around, narrowly missing the bladed feet of the older two. Jordan excitedly showed me how she can now turn and stop and skate all the way across without falling - at least some of the time. Tennyson was happy until he fell and then he lay there in sad, pathetic, put-upon four year old fashion until I'd grab him by the front of his coat and hoist him to his feet again. Steven showed up and played on the ice with the four kids, sliding them, squealing, across the ice on their backs. It's amazing how much fun six people can have on a weekday afternoon on a small patch of ice in the back yard.

My family is awesome.

It also amazes me how Tennyson not only manages to fall, but he manages to fall up into the air and then down onto his bottom. I'm sure it's black and blue tonight. Eventually he had enough and wanted to go back in. Jordan persevered and stayed outside. Mitchell hung out with her. Elliot and I went back in so I could start supper.

Finally at 6:00 I had to call Jordan in. She had spent an hour and a half on her little rink in the backyard, determined to teach herself to skate. She rocks.

the single best thing you can do for your health

2012-01-26T09:35:00.003-06:00

Check out this link. It's a really neat video about exercise and your health. I promise it's nothing like the last video!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUaInS6HIGo&sns=fb

should just stay on quarantine for a few more days I guess

2012-01-25T11:35:00.003-06:00

It's been a fun few days here at the Verwey house. I woke up late Saturday night (early Sunday morning) feeling pretty awful. It was about 3am. I knew what was coming - I always know it's coming. There is no way the stomach flu goes around without having it hit here before it's gone. By 4am both boys were throwing up. Around 5am it was my turn to start.

Freaking fantastic!

On Sunday evening Jordan threw up a couple of times. You'll be truly happy to know that she does not chew her kraft dinner. At all.

I kept everyone home on Monday. No school for Jordan, no diaper gym for the rest of us. We had a jammie and movie day. Happily, nobody dragged the throwing up part of their disgusting illnesses into Monday.

I'm still waiting for Elliot. Is it too much to hope that she has somehow avoided this bout? My fingers are crossed so hard they hurt.

If you're wondering about Steven, he won't get it. He has never had it since I've known him. He hops in and strips pukey beds and scrubs carpets and mops up little sad faces once the deed is done, but his body is somehow immune. Not sure who he paid off for that one.

This morning I took Jordan to school and the rest of us went to play group. At 11 the school secretary called me and told me that I needed to come and pick up Jordan because she was sick. I hurried Tennyson, Mitchell and Elliot back into their snowsuits and we rushed down to the school.

Her tummy hurts. And she's mad she's missing hot dog lunch at school, and can I please make hot dogs?

So frustrating.

little anime video

2012-01-21T16:12:00.003-06:00

Click HERE to watch. You have to scroll down.

2012-01-21T16:01:00.001-06:00

Tennyson: Can I have some coke?
Steven: Coke's not good for you. You can have a dunkaroo.

honey

2012-01-18T12:17:00.001-06:00

Where honey comes from, as explained by Tennyson:

Bees get nectar from every flower, they gargle it into honey and then they spit it into cones and then they put it into little boxes and they send it to people.

100 things about me, part 1

2012-01-16T17:04:00.003-06:00

I've decided to copy a few friends and start a 100 Things list. Will it have new material in it? Maybe. Will it more or less be a very close spin-off of the other lists I have made? Chances are good.

1. This list will NOT end with a pregnancy announcement, as did the 2010 list. That ship has sailed.
2. I picked up my coffee habit midway through my third pregnancy. It was repulsive before, now it's delicious.
3. Diaper gym is the beginning and end of my social life in Portage.
4. I have a son who wants to be a princess when he grows up.
5. I'm not really 29.
6. I love my computer - like really love it. Because it brings me the internet; more specifically reader and facebook. I may have to kick this addiction in the new year.
7. I'd love to consider myself a runner, but I'm starting to think it's more of a fair weather friend. My motivation has tanked in the last while.
8. I can still knock off a cool six miles, more if I'm in the mood.
9. I love my husband. Like really love him. More than coffee or facebook. I probably take him for granted too much.
10. My secret fantasy is to have meals on wheels show up every day at 5 o'clock.
11. Sometimes I let Elliot sit in a dirty diaper a little longer than she should if I know Steven is due home in the near future.
12. I have a towel system. They need to be folded, stacked and rotated a certain way. Steven is not allowed to touch them. Evilly, it's the only laundry he ever races to fold, and then he laughs when I pounce on him and shoo him away.
13. I love sweet things: cinnamon buns with cream cheese icing, oreo blizzards, chocolate bars, the leftover cake sitting in my fridge, cookies, cookies, cookies, granola bars.
14. I love salty things: popcorn, chips, tacos, pizza.
15. I love comfort foods: pasta, carbs carbs carbs.
16. Veggies? If I have to.
17. I need a half hour's notice before people drop in so I can pretend I'm a good housekeeper.
18. I hate mopping. When it gets to the point where I walk through the kitchen and my socks stick to the floor and slip off my feet I will begrudgingly get the mop out. Until then? I just sweep it and pretend it's clean.
19. Mopping is on my weekly chore schedule, so I can pretend that it's something I do every week.
20. In the last few years I've worn less blue, grey and black, and more pink, purple and red. My daughter thinks it's great I'm sure, but I believe I'm starting to lose my bad-ass reputation.
21. I love to read. Especially when it means that I can skip doing other things and be too distracted to notice.
22. I am seriously non-confrontational, but if you offend me too many times I'll just avoid you like the plague.
23. I really like MarioKart.
24. Some of my favorite childhood memories are of summer camp.
25. I'm already looking forward to camping this summer.

so far this weekend

2012-01-15T08:51:00.001-06:00

The weekend is now half over. Probably more than half, especially considering Steven is up playing Zelda. The kids love watching him play Zelda. I used to forbid it, but it seems my opinion on it has been vetoed. So far Link has been doing a lot of wandering around and flying his bird, but if it gets as dark and scary as the first Zelda game I may have to forbid it again.

Yesterday we had family pictures taken with Steven's dad, Step-Mom, siblings, spouses and kids. It was fun, especially the part where there were twenty people in a basement studio. My favorite part was when I heard something fall and assumed it was one of my kids it turned out to be one of the grownups.

The same thing happens at diaper gym. We'll be sitting at the table, attempting to ignore the goings on of the children when a scrap will break out. I turn, ready to yell at Tennyson (hypothetically of course) and it's someone else's kids. It's a little like Christmas.

Last night we came back here with everyone for supper. We had many contributions to our diner: ham, potatoes, broccoli salad, buns, corn bread, meatballs and finally chocolatey cheesecake.

We followed this with a game of Things in a Box but it seems as though all of us young parents are quick to run out of steam these days and by 9:30 we were yawning and the party drew to a close. It was a nice day!

Today we'll likely stick close to home. Jordan has a birthday party, but we have no other obligations so it should be a nice lazy day.

50 rules for dads of daughters

2012-01-11T16:18:00.000-06:00

Here's a link, read it!:

http://www.fromdatestodiapers.com/50-rules-for-dads-of-daughters

Ten Things About Elliot

2012-01-10T10:02:00.000-06:00

Ten Things About Elliot

She loves coffee
She yells Way! when she's mad at someone or her siblings get in her personal space (It means go aWAY)
She's clingy but not necessarily cuddly.
She has one favorite blanket and if I try to put other blankets or stuffed animals in her crib she will toss them all out and just curl up and fall asleep on her blankie.
She loves snacks, especially if they're not hers.
She loves her baths and has a major tantrum if I decide bathtime is over before she does.
She's obsessive compulsive about open cupboards or drawers and will follow me around the kitchen shutting them.
She's now learned how to take her own pants off.
She's probably a little spoiled. She's definitely a princess.
She's the cutest little toddler EVER!

winter: then and now

2012-01-09T15:25:00.005-06:00

This is our yard last January:

Yes that is Mitchell in the fire pit. We like to slow roast and eat our children when times get tough. That's why we had so many...

This is our yard today:

It's crazy! It's plus seven out there right now. Kind of makes me want to have a bundled up bonfire out there!

things i don't miss from last january

2012-01-09T15:07:00.002-06:00

the good daughters

2012-01-08T13:50:00.001-06:00

I don't even know what to say. This week I may have to vow not to read anything in favor of housework, my kids, and perhaps getting out of my pjs before supper.

2012-01-07T23:58:00.003-06:00

Steven is sitting next to me at the table, at 11:57pm at night listening to some yodeling yokel on the laptop. I don't know who I want to strangle more, Steven or the yodeler.

Wait, Steven just started whistling along with him. I've got my answer.

hurtling

2012-01-07T23:44:00.001-06:00

Today flew by. Sometimes I stop and think about just how weird it is that the kids are suddenly as old as they are right now. I'm serious. I know that everyone says that, so it's not just that I've had an enlightening moment. I now understand those annoying old aunties who my mom and I used to bump into at a family gathering or reunion who would spend the first few awkward moments going on about how much I've grown since I was "this big" and doing "this bad thing" at her house when she used to babysit, and did I remember that? No, sorry I never do. Oddly enough my parents had a hard time keeping babysitters.

It confounds me too. I mean, who wouldn't want to babysit me?

Where was I? Right. Hurtling towards death. Literally. I went to a baby shower today for a really cool friend who is about to have her first baby and join the ranks of the haggard, I mean blessed. Blessed. Think Tiffany, think. Blessed. Carrying on . . .

It was just a few years ago that I was having my first baby and my baby shower, right? It couldn't have possibly been 6.5, could it? I guess so. In the blink of an eye, six and a half years of my life - gone.

I bet you're glad you tuned in today.

Steven and I have been together for over eleven years. When I think back to earlier years I can see how it was eleven years ago. We've done a lot of stuff. Still, eleven years? How? I am not that old! Oh, wait, you're right.

I kid you not. Hurtling. I not only have grey hairs, but also wrinkles. You know who has those things things? Hurtling people.

That being said, I understand the live each day like it's your last mentality, but I don't have time. If it was my last day I'd just leave the dishes in the sink, or better yet I'd eat out. Hopefully my last day falls on a Wednesday and I can just go for wings. If I lived each day like my last I'd be very heavy, very broke and living in a very messy house. Plus I'd probably do a lot of crying. I really don't want a last day. If I can find Louis or Lestat I'll rectify that. Hopefully Louis. My lanta he's hot. I mean, efficient. Let's go with that. He's seriously got to stop moping though. That's a bit of a turn off. Lestat is a bit too manic.

You know what, never mind. Skip that last paragraph in your second reading.

I'm not really being all mopey and deathy. It's kind of a thing Steven and I comment on once in a while that we're hurtling through life. Of course I take it one step too far and add in "toward death." He rolls his eyes, we laugh because I'm hilarious and we move on.

My life is pretty good. Our kids are (mostly) happy, (as) healthy (as one can be eating only bread, peanut butter and gold fish crackers) and quite entertaining. My husband is quite literally my best friend. We've got family we love, family who loves our kids, friends who are always jumping out of the bushes to help keep the social calendar buzzing, a job the hubby likes and a way to make this whole crazy ship keep dodging those ice burgs. I can't complain.

But boy, do they ever grow up fast.

Jordan told me the other night that she wanted to go to Zumba with me. I told her no. She pouted and said with as much seriousness and authority her little china doll face could muster that she was six years old!! and therefore should be allowed to attend Zumba. I didn't even respond for a moment. The look on her face was priceless. She really is six years old, and soon she'll be seven, and then eight, and then 25.

Remember that time she was born? I do. Vaguely. The boys too - what was I doing that took so long that when I turned back around they were standing there as big as they are?

It's crazy. If I could slow down time right now I'd do it in a heartbeat.

But I'd have said the same thing six years ago. How can I simultaneously have it all? Every perk of every stage, every new moment of each new year. It's all so wondrous really, to have these four little people in my home and to have made them and now be actually raising them (I'm convinced it's more facilitating than anything). They change and morph every day.

Six and a half years ago when I first embarked on this whole motherhood thing it seemed so simple. Okay, the exhaustion and lifestyle change and all that was definitely anything but simple, but overall it was. Jordan was a baby, I was her mother and for now my job was to keep her happy and fed and stay sane with little to no sleep. She was gorgeous and cuddly and all mine, and her favorite place in the world was curled up on my shoulder while she slept and drooled just a little. She didn't really want much else. It wasn't complicated.

Now it's not so much that she's not mine, but she and her siblings have their own minds, wants and desires. They ask questions about their futures. I don't know why I bother answering them, since they'll find their own answers in due time, since they're hurtling toward the end and all.

Not sure where I'm going with all of this.

The baby shower set it off I'm sure. Maybe it's the excitement and promise of new life, and an entirely new chapter in ones own life. Nobody can really understand what it's like to be a mother until someone drops that new baby into your waiting arms and sends you home.

It's amazing.

Sometimes along the way when things get bogged down in teaching manners and rules and responsibilities, as well as trying to organize a day around five other people and drive people here and there and keep everyone fed I think I forget to take a step back and remember that initial anxious excitement as I started this all. It's easy to focus on kids head butting each other and bickering and throwing up at three in the morning and forget that the big picture is amazing. Family is amazing, kids are amazing.

That very first baby I sat and pored over in the hospital with her ten little fingers and her ten little toes and her baby fuzz head and her daddy's nose and all the potential in the world is laying down the hall right now. She's wrapped up in her blanket with her tangly hair splayed out across the pillow, a little bit of perspiration making the wisps along her hairline curl. Her face is content, the emotions of the day taking a rest. Her long, strong arms and legs are at still after a day of running around and laughing, bickering, playing nintendo, helping with setting the table, and teasing her parents. Her three younger siblings are sleeping in their beds too, confident that we're watching over them and keeping them safe.

We are hurtling through time. But what a wild ride!

business as usual

2012-01-06T18:48:00.000-06:00

Tennyson: "Mitchell!!! You're the meanest brother ever!!!"

Secret Daughter

2012-01-06T14:22:00.001-06:00

I just read Secret Daughter by Shilpi Somaya Gowda. I read the entire thing yesterday. It was amazing. The story follows two women; one from a village in India and one from America. The women couldn't be more different. The American woman is a doctor and married to a doctor. Her husband is from India, but his family is well-to-do and spares no expense for their family. The other woman is from a hard-working village where money is scarce and little girls are a burden. When the Indian woman has her first child it is a girl and her husband takes the baby from her and he and his brother bury her. She is not spoken of again. The second child is also a girl, and the baby's mother makes an hours-long journey into Mumbai to leave the baby at an orphanage, where she is eventually adopted by the American woman and her Indian husband.

The story is beautifully written, and is told from the points of view of the wives, the husbands, and eventually the daughter. It brought me to tears a number of times.

Read it.

Next Up:

tomorrow is the last day of official school holidays

2012-01-05T23:52:00.000-06:00

Jordan goes back to school on Monday. It's kind of sad that the holidays just whirred by like this. It's been nice having her home.

On the other hand, the fighting is driving me nuts. It's not like summer holidays where we spend half the day at the park and the other half the day in the back yard running and digging and sweating and getting tired. The kids are kind of in each others faces all day, and they're starting to show serious signs of wanting to rip those faces off.

I feel guilty, because I never wanted to be one of those moms who wanted her kids to go back to school, and I don't, because those days are long and I worry about Jordan when she's not here, but I think the kids need more routine again and maybe a break from each other.

I feel guilty even writing this.

I liked kindergarten last year. My girl went to school in the morning and was home in time for lunch and the rest of the day she was here where she was supposed to be.

It saddens me that I have to register Tennyson for kindergarten at the end of the month. One by one society is sucking them out through my front door. Stupid society. Next year I'll be registering Mitchie. That seems ridiculously wrong. Have you seen Mitchell? He's tiny. And cute and little. He's kind of a baby and he likes being a baby. When we hug and I pick him up he wraps around me and cuddles in just like he did when he was six months old. Then I laugh and hug him and call him Baby Mitchie and he doesn't argue it.

Kindergarten? Ugh. It's still weird that the little punk is in nursery school.

Where was I? Oh right - part of me thinks that routine will be good. A bigger part of me wishes school would just go away.

So how do I get them to be happy with each other from 7am until 8pm? That's the quandary.

Mitchell and Elliot had it out in the van today. I was unloading groceries and making trips to the house. Tennyson and Jordan were sort of helping me and Mitchell was goofing around in the van. Elliot was buckled in because I consider her my last load into the house. It beats her stomping all over my bread and eggs in the entrance. One one of my trips I came back to the van and Elliot was bawling and Mitchell was whimpering about something. Tennyson told me that Mitchell had head-butted her two times. My kids have this thing where when they're mad at each other they either hit each other with their heads (this sounds so stupid as I type it out) or just grind their head hard against the other kid. I guess they figure it's not really hitting. Anyway, Mitchell had smacked Elliot with his head a few times while I was taking groceries in. I hauled him out of the van and into the house where I sent him to his room.

I finished up in the van and herded the other kids into the house and made lunch, all while Mitche screamed "I'm being nice now!" from his bedroom. Eventually he settled down and I went in to talk to him. Turns out he head-butted Elliot because she had given him the full-handed-face-pinch. What was he doing? Trying to hug or kiss her.

Mitchie loves Elliot. He thinks she's his baby. He wants to hug and kiss her and lay on her on the floor and be near her. Elliot loves Mitchell but wants him to bugger off when he gets all up in her personal space like this. She was buckled in the van, he got his big kissy/huggy face all over her and she retaliated by using all five fingers to grab and pinch his entire cheek. It's a beautiful move. My older two used to do that to each other all the time (my house is so fun some days). Of course when a toddler does that to someone the only rational next step is to use your head to cause some well-deserved damage.

I'm really at a loss sometimes. Okay, most of the time. Maybe I'll go bang my head against someone and see if that solves all my problems.

This sibling stuff can be so awful. Sometimes it strikes me unexpectedly as funny and I have to turn away so they don't see that I'm trying not to laugh.

Picture this one:

Tennyson has a dollarama dart gun. It's not "darts" as steel tipped, slightly poisoned tiny missiles, instead it's a floppy little rubber stick with a floppier little rubber suction cup on the end that doesn't actually suction by any stretch of the word.
Today I bought Mitchell one to end the fighting over the one dart gun.
Tennyson can't find his darts. He tries to snag Mitchell's. This is after sneaking Mitchell's new gun when he couldn't find his own.
Mitchell whines after him and they argue and cry over whose gun it is.
Finally a kid finds the second gun in a toy box in the basement. Tennyson sincerely states that Mitchell must have put his new gun in there. Whatever.
Tennyson wants Mitchell's darts. Mitchell says no.
Mitchell, decked out in safety goggles, his badge and his fancy new gun, struts about haughtily and happy that he's the one kid with bullets.
Tennyson follows Mitchell around crying and insisting that Mitchie gives him his darts.
Mitchie says no with a smirk on his face and an evil little glint in his eye. Mitchie was about eight days old when he learned how much he loved Tennyson's over-the-top emotional reactions to stuff.
Tennyson won't stop dogging after Mitchie and yelling/crying at him to give him some darts already.
Mitchie marches all around the house, repeatedly through the kitchen and past me.
I am slowly driven more crazy.
Eventually I snag Tennyson on his way through and make him sit on a stool near me while I do dishes. He does, but he's really not happy about it.
Mitchell (still in full battle regalia) stands three feet away from Tennyson with a smug look on his face and stares at him.
Tennyson yells at him eight hundred times to go away.
Mitchell doesn't. Instead he shoots Tennyson in the face with his loaded dart gun.
I bet you knew that he was going to shoot him right in the eye. I don't think he even blinked.
Now Tennyson is doing the high-pitched I'm hurt squeal.
I smack Mitchie's bum and send him out of the kitchen. Then I hug Tennyson before turning quickly away to hide my frustrated laugh.

What are the odds? The whole thing was so stupid. I think the thing that makes it kind of slightly amusing is that here's this wimpy little 35 pound twerp in orange safety glasses too big for his face nonchalantly shooting off a gun and not twitching any other muscle while it happens. His expression didn't even change until I smacked his bum. He's a stinker these days! He used to be the good one! It's not even that he does horribly bad stuff - it was his gun and his darts and all Tennyson had to do was look around a little for his own instead of crying and he'd have found them. Instead he wanders around and wails. Mitchie doesn't even really argue back except for the odd little word to keep Tennyson going. He loves the reaction and I'm sure it gives him a feeling of power that he can cause it. Of course, Tennyson is the exact wrong kid to be put up against this since he doesn't let anything go without a big giant cry or yell or scream or whatever.

I think Mitchell is going to be a cultural anthropologist or end up in some sort of cultural studies field. He's the kid that pushes the first domino and then sits back and watches what happens. It's almost like he's detached from feeling like he's caused things, he just likes to watch shit play out. He's naughty, but he's cute about it.

Remember all that Baby Mitchie stuff? I bet he made me feel that way about him on purpose so that when he triggers the all hell that breaks loose around here and then comes running for the safety of my arms I'll think he's all innocent and sweet and little.

Meh, it might work.
Then again, he has been in time out a lot lately.

All this crap happened today, and that's only the tip of the ice burg.

They did sit nicely and paint some plaster mold things today, even if the older two did harp on Mitchell for his sub-par painting skills.

Happy Birthday to Dad V.

2012-01-05T16:08:00.003-06:00

Happy Birthday to a fantastic dad and grandpa!

spelling hurdles

2012-01-04T22:57:00.002-06:00

I'll be honest. I'm a pretty damn good speller, but there are a few very common words that trip me up - all - the - time.

Dad V., don't read this please - I'd like you to keep thinking that my grammar and spelling is exemplary.

My words:

embarrassed
vacuum

It's stupid, but I really have to think about them. I actually got them right the first time here. Probably because it's the new year and I'm going to turn 29 this year. Time to be all grownuppy and stop making these mistakes.

(I'm not counting segue because it's not all that common. I give myself a spelling pass on that one. Before I get an actual teaching job someday I'll probably have to dust off some of these words and make sure that I'm not spelling them ridiculously wrong.)

I almost wrote "What about you? Any words you constantly misspell?"
I erased it. It is my absolute blogland pet peeve when people end their blogs with a question for the masses.

Zumba!

2012-01-04T22:47:00.002-06:00

I went to Zumba tonight. To be honest, if it wasn't for meeting a friend there I probably would have curled up on the couch with the remote and a buffet of snacks while I lamented the plague that has buried itself deep in my chest.

This time last year I was getting up early in the mornings to walk in the cold. I'd get up at 5:30 or 6 in the morning and walk laps around the block until I had to be home so that Steven could get to work. Last winter I was constantly going to multiple fitness classes a week: Lean & Fit, Zumba, Aquafit (only once because it sucks) and yoga. I snuck over to the running track a couple of times a week to run laps around the kids playing or practicing hockey, to the tune of the hilarious parents who wanted me to fetch their errant toddlers the next time I went around.

This year? If it wasn't for gaining back 17 of the 29 pounds I lost in the last 15 months I'd probably just lay on the couch covered with chip crumbs and slopped dip.

I love chips.

I also loved being 17 pounds less. It's time to get it back.

Zumba was fun tonight, and I'm glad I went. Someone had to make sure that Steph wore shoes, and I got a good workout out of it as well.

I'll definitely be doing the Manitoba Half Marathon again this year, and if I don't take the summer off to eat 'smores (read: 17 pounds) and actually keep up my running schedule I'd like to do the Treherne Run for the Hills Half too. Apparently that one is a little different being that it's on gravel roads and is quite hilly. I'm going to go for it. If I end up rolling down into a ditch in a cream-cheese-cinnamon-bun-induced-coma it'll just help to illustrate the fact that slacking on the running schedule in favor of eating is probably not the healthy-lifestyle way to go.

My goal for the Manitoba Half is to do it in under two hours. That means I have to knock off at least 8 minutes from my last year's time. So far I can set the treadmill at that pace for a mile or two, but it kind of kicks the shit out of the rest of my run. Something to work on.

I do like running. I'd prefer to run outside, but in the meantime I have this handy little hamster wheel in the basement that'll get me similar results, at least until the ice (?) disappears.

Speaking of winter (I have a certain affection for segues* that really suck), I really should take a picture of my backyard for those of you who perhaps don't live near here. Then I should dig up a picture of my back yard from last winter. It looks like October outside right now, with a smattering of snow desperately hanging on. We actually have 2/3 of a snowman still sitting out there. My darling daughter evilly decapitated him and blamed it on the December thaw. I don't know where she gets her evil streak (heh heh heh).

Where was I? Right. Exercise. Running. I have got to get back at it. For real. If anyone ever wants to kill an hour and run a few laps at the track let me know. I'm game.

*As an English major I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I misspelled segue so wrong that the spell check was at a loss for suggestions.
** Brownie points if you can figure out the paragraph that I added in after I finished the blog. Not that it's awkward or anything.

no it's not a "man cold," it's the real thing

2012-01-04T09:59:00.001-06:00

Just recently I recovered from Ebola. Now I've got something else. It's not exactly the same thing, and I'm sure I've built up some ebola antibodies anyway. This is the plague.

I hate the plague. Steven rolls his eyes at my plaguiness and says "What, is this like, 'a man cold'?"

No, no it isn't. This is the real thing. A man cold. Sheesh.

reading list

2012-01-04T09:02:00.000-06:00

The other day a friend of mine told me that she liked my reading list and had been reading some of the books that I had listed there.

I was confused for a minute. Then I remembered - I have a reading list! I started it last year but kind of forgot to update it a few months into the year. There are 15 books listed there, and I'm sure I only wrote it down for a few months. I did a lot of reading after Christmas last year. I don't know if you know this, but books are better than movies. It's true.

I also have this habit of watching the movies before I read the book. I find that if I read the book first I never like the movie, because I have sky-high expectations, and a love of the characters and a picture in my mind of what the characters look like, sound like, act like, etc. I envision their kitchens, their homes and the layout of the town. Then I watch the movie. It never fails to disappoint. The depth isn't the same, chunks are missing and characters seem sadly one dimensional.

So I watch the movie first and I love it. Then I read the book and it's even better! See where I'm going here?

I'm not saying I actually don't like the movie once I've read a book, but I know I'd like it more if I had gone into it fresh.

I'm going to restart my reading list this year. If you're interested there's a tab here somewhere (beside 'home') that will take you to it. If you have book suggestions, by all means add them here! Last year I read books by Steig Larson, Jodie Picoult, Janet Fitch, Margaret Atwood, and more, as well as a bunch of fluffy stuff. Some of my favorite fluffy writers are Janet Evanovich and Jennifer Crusie. The only problem is that I've pretty much read everything the library has by them, and I hate buying books. I read them too fast and then never again.

I also like Christopher Moore and Tim Dorsey. I think they're man-fluffy.

About Janet Evanovich - Come on Stephanie, pick a man already. Your series probably should have ended about ten books ago.

running/walking ticker

2012-01-02T15:18:00.001-06:00

I actually hit 1179 miles last year. I'm a little annoyed that I didn't get moving more at the end to hit the 1200. This is the year! I'm going to change my ticker to read 1200 and I'll start over.

Wish me luck!

2012-01-01T10:57:00.000-06:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

on a brighter note...

2011-12-30T19:32:00.001-06:00

I'm considering making my blog into a book. It would cost somewhere about $100. I know, it's expensive. I won't likely do it just yet, being in the post-Christmas red and all, but I'd definitely like to do it in the next few months. It's not even like my blog is profound, or that it would fly off the shelves in bookstores (unless there was a hurricane, tornado, or really bad kid there), but it would be kind of neat to have it in print. I have lots of stuff in here about the kids, and some day to day happenings and it might be fun years from now to look back and remember some of these silly things.

Some people journal. I lose my keys.

bye simon :(

2011-12-30T19:28:00.000-06:00

Remember Simon? He was our dog for two days. He went back home tonight. Although the kids loved him and I wanted to keep him Steven was not to be won over. I thought for sure he'd warm up to him, especially when he came home from work and the puppy met him at the door and hopped around and wagged his tail because he was super nice and lovey even though Steven was NOT.

Anyway, I think I've got us on the short list for babysitting Simon from time to time, and hopefully we can steal him every once in a while for the day while Auntie Debbie is at work. Steven agreed to that, probably because he was relieved that I didn't just lock him in the freezer and let the dog sleep on his half of the bed.

post-christmas rambling, simon, this and that

2011-12-28T17:01:00.000-06:00

I know someone who actually blogged every day this year. Crazy eh? And I read this other blog of this other crazy person who wants to blog every day for the first ninety days of 2012.

Part of me wants in on it. Part of me says "Ha! I'm way too lazy and unimaginative for such nonsense." We'll see. I should probably try to do more. I have this dream (dream? Really?) of one day printing out my blog. Someday I'll tell the kids that I didn't need baby books, baby pictures, to keep all the "art" they make me, because I have a blog and that's at least as good as a half-completed baby book.

What's new? Well, Christmas is over. I like Christmas. I also hate Christmas half the time. Funny how the biggest holiday of the year can inspire so many mixed emotions. It's not like when I was a kid and my mom would plan and prepare and organize our family's time and all I had to do was get up on Christmas morning, tear through my presents and eat turtles, and then follow my parents from gathering to gathering for the next few days. Those Christmases were awesome.

Christmas mornings are still awesome. I love the kids' excitement. This year I was actually up before the light turned orange so I hopped through the shower. I could hear Tennyson jump out of bed (literally - he sleeps on the top bunk and sees no use for the ladder) and race down the hall. Two seconds later he came bursting into the bathroom yelling "Mommy, Mommy! Santa eated his cookies!"

One of my favorite Christmas moments - the pure joy that the little bit of Christmas magic had actually left evidence in our home. Love it.

I didn't tell him that not only did Santa eat his cookies, Santa's multiple personalities actually fought over those cookies. They were delicious, or at least Santa said they were.

Something profound?

I have absolutely no ability to estimate the size of someone's pjs. I also realized that I will lose the receipt that I need for multiple gifts, and that Steven may not love me enough to put his own socks in the hamper, but he will go through the garbage bag by bag in the garage looking for a receipt so that I don't have to. Weird eh?

Isn't it nice how I managed to work a little guilt-trip into a post-Christmas blog post?

Simon is sitting on the top of the back of the couch. He must have skipped the part in the memo that poopoos that kind of behavior.

Who is Simon you ask?

This is he:

He's a puppy. A shih tzu to be exact (not shitzu as I have previously spelled it). We're babysitting him for a week to see if we want to keep him. Jordan and Tennyson are psyched to have a dog here for a few days, Mitchell is warming up to him and Elliot cries and runs away when he looks at her. If I were him I'd have so much fun with that.

I just caught him gnawing on the corner of the end table. Oops. Don't tell Steven. Apparently Steven only agreed to the dog because I pestered him and when I came right out and asked him if he was forbidding it he said "Well, no I can't forbid it," I greenlighted the adopt-a-dog plan. Steven's not much of a forbidder.

He just called me now and I mentioned the dog and he said "Aww, right. We have a dog," and I made him feel better by letting him know that Simon only had mild doggie breath and when he came in all wet from the yard I let him lay on Steven's pillow on the couch, so the couch is fine.

I am fantastic at putting his little mind at ease about stuff.

Seriously though, Simon is cute. We'll see how the week goes and if the kids don't seem all allergic and the puppy hasn't turned into a snarling bundle of child-induced anxiety (not unlike myself) we may become a dog family!

What else?

See? One blog post and I run out of stuff to complain/talk/rant about. I don't know how I'd make a month, three months or a year.

I may have to start not-me-Mondaying again, or just stick random daily pictures on here or giant pink versions of my name. That would be interesting. I could see my blog following skyrocket with that kind of blog fodder.

2011-12-27T09:36:00.004-06:00

My house looks like Christmas threw up in it.

The baby smells like sh*t.
The kids are fighting over one of Elliot's toys.
Tennyson doesn't want to pick up his gazillion army guys.
There is somehow laundry everywhere.
Don't even get me started on the box of stuff that was dumped out in the front entrance.

I just want to go back to bed and let them raise themselves for a day. Is that so horrible?

Merry Christmas Eve

2011-12-24T20:30:00.000-06:00

Steven and I took the kids to the Island of Lights tonight. They love watching the different displays and being the first ones to "notice" something else. From there we drove through KokoPlatz. There's a street there that should probably be charging at least what the Island of Lights charges for admission.

Our house has one string of lights. Just one. I keep thinking that we should jazz it up some, because the kids would love it, but there is so little time or extra money for that sort of thing these days. One day.

It's Christmas Eve. The boys sprinkled reindeer food on the lawn and hung a special key just for Santa on the front door. Jordan found a perfect spot in the living room to leave three cookies and a glass of milk. An apple was added to that, because it's healthy (go Jordan!), and after careful consideration a second apple was added for Santa to share with either a reindeer or an elf. I guess it's up to him.

Except for three presents we're done wrapping. I never really feel like I'm completely ready for stuff. I still have a handful of Christmas cards to drop in the mail and the kitchen counter to clean off (it's stuff, not dirty dishes), as well as under the dining room table to vacuum. I wanted everything to be perfect for Christmas. By the end of the evening I started to realize that there's no way that I feel like doing much else tonight. It could be a little depressing, this never being ready, except that the kids moved the presents from the Elliot-proof table to underneath the tree, and all talked a mile a minute and at the same time about Santa and the reindeer and how many sleeps until all the Christmases at the different family houses and where to put the cookies, and how many apples we needed, and I thought This is what it's about. Who cares of there are hardened noodles underneath the kitchen table. Whatever.

Because you should have seen their happy little faces. It must be hard to lay down and go to bed knowing that in the morning it's Christmas. Yet, they have to go to bed or Santa can't come. I think it must have been a mother that started Santa in the first place. How else does one get four little kids to stay in their beds and actually try to sleep on the eve of such excitement?

I hope everyone has a fantastically Merry Christmas!

2011-12-16T19:15:00.000-06:00

1. Your real name: Tiffany Verwey
2. Your detective name (favorite color and favorite animal): Purple Dog
3. Your soap opera name (middle name and street you live on): Lynnette Fourth
4. Your Star Wars name (first three letters of last name, first two of middle name, first two of first, last three of last): Verlyvewey
5. Superhero name (color of your shirt, first item to your immediate left): Grey Phone
6. Goth name (black and one of your pets): Black Chloe

7. Your Porn star/drag queen name (name of your first pet and the first street you lived on-that you can remember): Fluffy Division (yes really)

diaper gym woes

2011-12-16T12:11:00.002-06:00

I have got to de-grumpify. I'm feeling very grumpy right now. It's totally the kids' fault, or maybe my fault, or maybe by Friday morning I've clearly drained the bottle of patience. Usually by the time the week is over I'm definitely ready for Steven to be home for a couple of days.

Just ask him how happy I was the last weekend he was on call and was in and out every night for a week and then all weekend too. He think I was grumpy. I think my attitude was just reflective of his abhorrent desire to run out and unplug sewers instead of stay home and entertain me.

Where was I? Right. Not my fault.

Seriously though, the kids are pretty cute these days, when they're not fighting. Or awake. Or hanging on my legs at diaper gym and crying despite the fact that I go to diaper gym so that the little darlings can run off and play with their friends. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD - GO AND PLAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS CHILD!!!!

The Little Miss is driving me nuts at diaper gym these days. She is ridiculously clingy. She's also trying to look like I don't feed her. At home she eats a big bowl of cheerios, sometimes not finishing all of it. Then she whines to get out of her highchair, leaping from chair to table if I don't take her own quickly enough. Enter diaper gym. She whines and moans over the diaper bag, staring at me the entire time as if I'm withholding snack. Being that she's the fourth child, I sigh and haul out a snack. She eats it. She whines some more. I give her the next snack and then the next. She cries and freaks out if I try to feed her the yogurt so I hand the 17 month old the spoon and her own sloppy food. She eats it. She then makes her way down the table once the other kids start to wander off and polishes off their yogurts, puddings, granola bars, juice boxes, etc. She sits on the table and cookie-monsters it all into her face. When the food is gone she comes back to me and hangs on my legs and whines until another mommy finds her more snacks. Then she sits on my lap and wails and reaches for my coffee. I get up and go to the kitchen and get her a drink of water. She's good for eighty seconds and then resumes the whining and reaching.

She's driving me nuts. I really am going to set up a baby time out play pen. I wonder how well that would work? Of course when I took her out of it I'd have to comfort her for twenty minutes to make up for her being contained/confined/punished/heart broken.

Don't even get me started on the hitty, screamy, sock-losing, non cleaning-up, girl snubbing, baby pushing boys. At least they don't do it right at my feet. And if I have to stick one of them into time out and then forget about them for 15 minutes before someone says "Hey, is Tennyson still in time out?" At least I can pretend that I intended to leave them there that long.

But they're cute, and I love them, and I'll likely inflict them on everyone again on Monday.

dear lord let's blame it on the seasonal flu

2011-12-14T21:11:00.000-06:00

"It doesn't even make sense to donate glasses to Africa. It would make more sense to just donate a computer and then they could go online and order glasses for like six bucks, and if they ordered glasses for the whole village they would only have to pay shipping once."

"This kid built a windmill of garbage and they could plug into that. It produces energy. Pretty genius kid. Everybody laughed at him until he built a friggin windmill and made electricity. Pretty awesome. Give that guy a laptop."

"Your clacking is very annoying. You need to tone it down a bit. Now you're just doing it loud on purpose. Don't think I can't tell."

Now he's dozing on the couch. He just about choked on some phlegm in his sleep. Serves him right. This is what happens - we want our husbands to turn off the tv/wii/computer/ipod and talk to us. Then this is what we get. I think he's being all intentionally weird so that next time I'll just let him have his tv/wii/computer/ipod.

I'm going to turn the TV on. That's how we find out if he's really sleeping. He can't handle not watching the tv. You wouldn't believe how many times I've had to compete with In the Night Garden for his attention. - Oh, reaching for his glasses. It's not even a show he'd like. I haven't even begun to channel surf yet.

busy weekend

2011-12-11T19:55:00.001-06:00

I keep meaning to take pictures of stuff, but I forget. A lot. Just ask Elliot.

Last night I went for dinner with my dad's side of the family. It was nice to have a chance to catch up with people in the midst of all the business of the season!

Today I went Christmas shopping with Ange and Steph. It was fun. Food, spending, a couple of wrong turns and voila! - home 8.5 hours later, and a big mac heavier.

christmas carnival

2011-12-10T16:46:00.001-06:00

2011-12-10T11:56:00.001-06:00

A couple of weekends ago the ballet came to town. I had never been to a ballet and have always wanted to go. I knew Jordan would love it too, being that she's into all things princess right now.

Jordan loved it. She gasped each time a new ballerina came out, especially if she was wearing a different dress.

At one point I noticed that she looked a little sad as she gazed in awe at the performance. I asked her what was wrong and she said "I just have tears because they're so pretty."

Then I got a little teary thinking about the depth in this small child.

She's such a mix of dresses, dirt, frogs and pretty things. I love it.

I'd recommend the ballet to anyone, especially when it's a shorter performance showcasing dances from multiple ballets. The stands were full of women with their little girls, all excited to be there.

Can't wait for it to come back next year!

awana concert

2011-12-10T10:51:00.001-06:00

Tonight was the Awana concert at Jordan's friday night Awana church.

That was a horrible sentence. It's okay. It's Christmas!

Here's Jordan in her cute little dress.

Jordan's hair.

People asked me if I had taken her to a hair dresser. I'm proud to say that no, I didn't. I did it myself!

The boys, misbehaving in church.

Tennyson told me ahead of time that he was going to go and change into something "fancy." I didn't realize until we got to church and I helped him out of his jacket that "fancy" meant X-Men.

Mitchie ended up in the nursery. Then it was Mommy's turn to giggle in church when we could still hear him ROARing in the sanctuary.

Boys.

Elliot.

Probably should have left her at home. I'm pretty sure she's recovering from the seasonal flu - the same seasonal flu that spiked her fever and sent her into convulsions on Monday.

Look how happy and sickly she looks. Poor baby.

The Awana kids singing some pretty cool songs.

The cute one is Jordan.

I just had to get a picture of Jamin. Not sure if it comes across here, but his complete concentration during the songs looked a LOT like a scowl. It was awesome!

He's the little short one. Scowling.

The youth group.

About halfway through the play they started forgetting their lines, giggling and hauling out their scripts from their pockets while eating cookies. At one point someone threw a line out there and I'm pretty sure it was the same line he had used about eight minutes earlier.

It was hilarious, and also cool how they carried on, saw the humor in it and managed to pull it back together and finish. Go kids!

All in all, a nice evening, followed by platters upon platters of cookies, along with tea and coffee.

More Super Fun Verwey Christmas posts to come!

naughty daddy

2011-12-04T12:59:00.001-06:00

Half naked baby out in the snow?

I'm filing this picture away for the day "someone" decides to trade me in for a younger model and then take all my kids to live on their romantic island with them.

That's right. You're all mine now baby...

my princess and her hair

2011-12-04T12:49:00.001-06:00

The thing about little girls? They negate the need for me to play with barbies. Remember reluctantly putting away the barbies when you were ~~twelve~~ nine? Me too. It was time to grow up. Time to stop dressing up dollies. Time to think about boys ~~even if all the boys in your class seriously sucked. No offense~~.

Enter - the six year old daughter with hair down the middle of her back. Living barbie? Of course not. I'm way past that.

But seriously, check out the picture! I wish I'd have taken pictures of some of the other styles I've stolen off The Story of a Princess and her Hair** website. The author of the site is a hairdresser, and the mother of a little girl with long thick hair, and she's very nice about sharing ways to fancy them up. Not only that, she breaks down the styles so even a mom with ten thumbs can muck her way through them and end up with something cute looking.

Would you believe that I've got a giant length of ribbon, five elastic bands and four bobby pins just to make this loopy, ribbony bun?

I was going to take a picture of the other little girl - you know, the hairless one, to show you why it's important to have multiple little girls, but she took off with my sandwich.

Lunch is never the same once there are kids milling around like little scavengers. Of course she turned up her nose at her own sandwich - the one that is exactly the same as mine, but Mommy's sandwich is so worth stealing.

**The cool thing about this site is that you can look up the facebook page, flip through the pictures in her albums, and then click the link right underneath the picture and it'll take you back to the blog for the full tutorial.

NaNoWriMo - Done, 1 day early!

2011-11-29T22:45:00.000-06:00

(I tried to post this on the 29th, but I was having trouble

with blogger. Anybody else notice anything weird,

or do i have a big mean psycho blogger virus?)

I did it I did it I did it!!

Guess who wrote a novel in a month? A novel that has a beginning, middle and an ending that more or less wraps up the loose ends? Me!

I finished my novel tonight, a day early, and with a whopping 51,849 words. As the NaNoWriMo website says, I most definitely DO have eternal bragging rights!

Things I may do now that I’m done:

Pay a little more attention to my kids
Mop a floor
Clean the bathrooms
Catch up on my favorite shows
Exercise
Make homemade pizza crust instead of buying that pre-made stuff
Flaunt it
Drink from the NaNoWriMo coffee mug I just ordered
Sleep
Wear clean clothes
Blog blog blog!!

It’s actually been a really cool experience. I’ve always said I wanted to try and write a novel, but in my head I imagined writing something well thought out, really good, sensible, smart novel. Of course a person then gets hung up on plot and how to start it, and conflict and relationships, etc., and never actually starts.

NaNoWriMo is about writing like crazy and just being done at the end of the 30 (or 29 - booyah!) days. Sure there were entire days I skipped because I had no idea what was going to happen next, but then I’d see that I was falling behind and shove through those barriers and voila! I’m done! It may not be pretty, it may have somehow transformed into something entirely different a few times, I may have discovered more than a few horribly annoying writing habits that I have (I‘d probably be a better editor or critic than writer - ask anyone who‘s ever brought up a book I don‘t like), but it’s done and it was fun, and I kind of like it, many many faults and all.

Sigh.

I’m pretty dorky happy right now.

Did I mention that I printed off the winner’s certificate? Yes, yes I did.

That’s the way we NaNoWriMoers roll baby.

I'm Christian - Unless You're Gay

2011-11-29T13:23:00.001-06:00

Please please please check out this link:

http://www.danoah.com/2011/11/im-christian-unless-youre-gay.html

I don't care what side of the homosexual "issue" you stand on, everyone should read this. It's beautifully written and covers so many bases without (I believe) being offensive to anyone.

This guy has managed to put into words much of what I think about gay people and popular judgement.

half done my first (albeit really crappy) novel

2011-11-15T14:12:00.001-06:00

I say first as though there will be tons more.

Two things. I have 25,099 words written in my novel. It's pretty exciting for me. Two: Why on earth do I need to receive an invitation to join pinterest? I've heard so many people go on about liking it, so I figured I'd check it out. Apparently it's invite only. I'm assuming that my invitation will show up in my email soon. Do I need to send references? Write a two-page autobiography? Bribe somebody?

Is pinterest really worth the trouble?

But I digress.

Good grief I need a mouse for this computer. I'll be typing away, and then I bump the little pad on the computer (ridiculously situated right under my hands) and the cursor moves and the next sentence is injected randomly into a paragraph I've already written. Maybe I'll put a little mouse into my own stocking.

I know what you're thinking: If you hold your hands up properly you wouldn't touch that uber-sensitive little pad. You could be right, but I don't want to. I have the worst posture of anyone I know, my hands follow suit. I'm a lazy-postured typer. If my hands were a sixteen year old school skipper they'd be splayed out on the couch eating doritos and watching multiple pvr'd episodes of The Walking Dead and doing it all while wearing the comfiest, ass-crack-showing pair of old sweatpants ever.

Right, the novel.

(also: not sure I like the new blogger interface. I should never ever click on "Try Now" on these sites. I never like it)

I'm halfway through the required 50,000 words that supposedly deem something a novel. My novel idea started out as one thing, and then when I started writing the novel it turned into something else entirely. The further I get into the novel, the more I want to go back in rewrite it.

Problems:

My main character is kind of a wimp. Not even a wimp, more of a nothing character. She had no hobbies, nothing she is apparently good at, besides being sarcastic. I need to sit down and just write a couple of pages about her so that I know her better. As I work my way through, I feel like I know who I want her to be, but I think she should have been a little deeper from the beginning.
I'm coming up with more and more plot (in my convoluted thoughts) as I go. Of course this plot wasn't quite so crazy when I started. The beginning of the book suggests that the plot is pretty simple. Now that more stuff is happening, and I need to come up with ways to make things make sense, I need to inject more stuff into my book.
The beginning of my book is very slow, and a little boring, and if I had known what was all going on with the other characters when I started it would be much better.

There's more, but it's 2:24 in the afternoon, and my mind is addled around this time of day. Not only that, but my friend Catherine now has me wanting fries, gravy, ketchup, vinegar and loads of salt.

My solution: I'm going to finish the book in the next 15 days. Then I'm going to rip it to shreds, better develop my characters, keep my favorite parts and re-write the rest. So those of you who were hoping to read it once it was finished will be waiting longer. I think it'll be a fun winter project. Because you know, I don't work, therefore I have all this free time. Just ask my bathroom.

beam me up!

2011-11-11T20:35:00.002-06:00

Sometimes, when I check into the internet to read a ton of different blogs, check facebook, and update my word count on my NaNoWriMo page, I wonder if there's a little bit of a dork in me.

The other day Jordan brought home a beginner reader book about a bookworm. In her little book the worm is literal, and it eats words, and pages, and entire books. I excitedly told her what a bookworm actually referred to, and was a little disappointed when her joy didn't match mine at the prospect.

Sure I'm past the stage where I have X-Files posters on my wall and Star Trek binders stuffed full of laminated episode guides, and maybe coasters with all the different Federation as well as enemy ships on them, but still - I love a good science fiction movie.

I was watching Big Bang Theory tonight, and the show poked fun of someone's Blog, and I thought Hey! I have a blog! Why are they making fun of blogs? Oh, okay.

I'm totally cool. Like, totally.

excerpt

2011-11-10T15:20:00.002-06:00

Our plan was simple. We would park the truck down the street and then Ryan and I would walk to the edge of Wilson’s property and then disappear into the bushes along the outside, where we’d make our way to the back of the house before using the code to open the back door. Once inside we’d locate the clock. If we figured we could move it on our own we’d get it to the front door and then call Amanda on her cell to bring the truck around. We’d load up the clock and be gone, locking the door behind us like the courteous burglars we were. No problem. No property damage, no looting anything else, no snooping through personal belongings. We were simply taking back something that should have been ours to begin with.

sick days

2011-11-10T13:25:00.002-06:00

There are serious discrepancies between men's and women's sick days. I have Ebola today. I haven't had that confirmed by an actual physician, but I figure that as a mother I have a certain right to make diagnoses of weirdo illnesses that plague this household.

I decided this morning to take a day off from my chores. Firstly? I didn't hop on my treadmill this morning, despite deciding at the beginning of the week that the slacking was over. In my defense, this particular strain of Ebola hits hardest in the morning. I could barely whisper, much less make any actual human sounds. My nose was plugged solid with that stuff that mutated the ninja turtles, and when I finally had to get up and have a coughing fit I did it in the bathroom because the stuff I was coughing up was making me wretch. I won't even mention the eye goop and headache.

Aren't you glad you tuned into this blog this morning?

Right, sick day. I didn't get on the treadmill. Then I got up and had a shower, without wetting or washing my hair (anybody want to hang out?). My day was off to a nice comfy start right? Especially since Steven was kind enough to put on a kettle for me before leaving so I could make some tea.

This has been my day off since then:

Chase all the kids back to the bedrooms to get dressed. Help certain kids get dressed.
Serve breakfast. Hear them argue about who got what spoon (you wouldn't think this would be an issue).
Clean up breakfast.
Make lunches for Jordan and Steven (he sleeps in and goes to work without one. I feel sorry for him).
Try to round up kids and send them to the front door to put on jackets and shoes. This is made more challenging with not being able to yell.
Help half of the little heathens into their shoes when they refuse/cannot do it themselves.
(sort of) Yell at kids to stop playing in the yard and get int he van already.
Take boys to nursery school and Jordan to her school.
Come home.
Drink more tea.
Try and relax on couch while Elliot climbs all over me, being sure to batter me with her knees, elbows and other assorted bony bits.
Field phone calls with a forced voice.
Change shitty diaper.
Stuff wriggling screeching child back into her clothes.
Get lonely child ready again and leave the house to pick up boys.
Hang out in the nursery school parking lot forever because one of the boys is still in time out inside. The other boy's time out had been earlier and wasn't an issue at pick up time.
Come home.
Make grilled cheese sandwiches and zoodles.
Feed children.
Wipe children
Clean off table.
Do first load of dishes (how there are so many dishes by noon when there were none when we got up is beyond me).
Make meatballs and sweet and sour sauce for supper.
Clean counter and assemble dinner in slow cooker.
Finish the dishes - this is another two rounds, since I have to stop halfway through to dry them so I can fit more into the dish drying rack.
Put baby to bed.
Send boys back downstairs with all the noisy toys they found to be sure to wake up the baby.
Let Mitchell stay up from nap, hopeful that he'll keep Tennyson entertained so I can relax on the couch and maybe work on my novel.

If Steven had a sick day, it would look like this:

Moan and groan about being so so sick.
Lay in bed until the kids finally caught on that Daddy was home and went and crawled in with him. This would likely be around 9 or 9:30.
Get up, stretch, sit on the side of the bed for a minute.
Pick up magazine and head into the en suite.
Sit there for 30 minutes reading.
Wander out into the kitchen in lounging pants and/or housecoat.
Make giant bowl of cornflakes topped with exorbitant amounts of brown sugar. Maybe make tea.
Sit at the table with corn flakes and laptop and read dorky news websites for the next hour.
Lay on couch and watch cartoons with the boys (if they're not in school or diaper gym), or alone if nobody is home.
Doze off.
Wait for Tiffany to make and serve lunch.
Eat lunch at the table.
Back to the couch.

Doesn't it sound heavenly? Yep. Sure does.

nanowrimo, day 9 - all caught up

2011-11-09T20:19:00.002-06:00

By the end of today I should have had 15,003 words. I am now up to 15,593. I'm a little excited about it all. Is it good? Probably not. Is it actually getting written with a hope of being finished? Yes!

NaNoWriMo, day 9

2011-11-09T13:11:00.003-06:00

My house is actually pretty nice and tidy today. This is due only to the fact that I had company yesterday, and not because I'm the best house keeper these days. People keep telling me I have four kids, and this is what houses are supposed to look like when there are six people living here, four of them ages six and under.

I just feel bad that my four kids have to live in squalor.

Anyway, moderately sparkly house (if you don't look in the corners), and one kid in school, two kids sleeping, and the fourth playing Nintendo means I can write!

I'm currently at 11,583 words. By the end of today I should be at 15,003. I'm a little behind, probably because I actually cleaned and organized yesterday instead of sitting for half the afternoon at the computer. On day two I wrote enough to take me past of day three, and I took day three off, so being a day or two behind is no biggie.

I sort of know where the story is going, it's even fun to write it, and I type somewhere around 90wpm so I'm seriously on track. This is the furthest I have ever made it with NaNoWriMo. Last year I ended up at 6,971 before petering out, falling way behind and giving up. Not this year. This is my year.

Who knows, maybe I'll even let you read some of it someday.

I'm telling!

2011-11-05T10:18:00.002-05:00

Tiffany: Jordan!
Jordan: What?
Steven: (from the other room) You need a spank!
Tiffany: Yeah! Let's spank her!
Jordan: No, or I'm telling your mommy.

Our family is so cool.

Actually, I stole a website from Pamela's blog and I want to try a cute little updo on my little tomboy/princess.

Note: We don't really spank that much.
There's much more tickling.

farewell blogtober - until next year!

2011-11-02T14:26:00.001-05:00

I missed ten days of Blogtober. That’s really awful considering that I aced it last year. That’s okay. Apparently there are a few little tricks that I didn’t know about - including dating posts to pop up on different days. Had I known that I may have done slightly better! I’m sure there were days when I posted more than one post, I could have post-dated them. Whatever. Next year is going to rock.

I’m cruising along with my novel. Granted, it’s only day two, but I’m sitting just under 3000 words right now, and I only need 3334 by the end of today. If I can hit that in the next half hour or so and then write for another hour tonight I’ll be ahead of the game.

I worry that my character doesn’t have enough character traits yet. Kind of too bad considering I’m 3000 words in. I’ll have to quickly try and make her a little more interesting.

1800 words

2011-11-01T15:20:00.001-05:00

I'm sitting at 1800 words and cruising along! This is so fun. Who knows, I may even share parts of it at some time. Maybe. Except that then you'll read it and I'll be all shy.

I have to average 1667 words a day to hit 50,000 by the end of the month. Kickin ass!

347 words

2011-11-01T13:50:00.004-05:00

Alright. I've actually started. This year I remembered on the first day - I figure that should count for something. And obviously I'm not procrastinating by hanging out on my blog. I figure that NaNoWriMo and Blogtober should coincide more. I'd blog daily for sure if it meant avoiding something a little more assignment-like.

november 1st

2011-11-01T13:19:00.002-05:00

I'm supposed to be starting a novel right now. Unfortunately I'm not really sure how to start my novel, nor did I ever think about it again and I still have to figure out some details before I can get into it. Sheesh.

On the bright side, I've managed to catch up on my google reader and facebook and email.

On the dark side I am currently a catchy sentence and 1667 words behind schedule. Luckily it's the first day.

i wanna be a pirate!

2011-11-01T10:29:00.004-05:00

After Halloween last year I bought two costumes for $5 each at Walmart. I was pretty proud of my bargain hunting. Jordan and Tennyson have been waiting all year to wear their butterfly and pirate costumes.

Last week one day we finally brought out the costumes to make sure everything would fit before school parties, diaper gym, and Halloween night arrived. I dressed up all four kids in their costumes. Tennyson was a pirate, Jordan a butterfly, Mitchell a kangaroo and Elliot was a little purple dragon. They were pumped. They got into character right away; Jordan flapped, Tennyson “aarrgged”, Mitchie hopped, and Elliot, well Elliot wandered around looking cute.

A few minutes in, Mitchie asked in his cute little Mitchie-voice, “Where’s my pirate costume?”

This keeps happening. A few weeks ago we went into the city to buy the older two kids new winter coats and snow pants. They all played in the racks and the younger two were pretty much oblivious to what was going on until it was time to pay. As I put the jackets on the counter I hear Mitchie’s little voice ask, “Where’s mine?” Serious Mommy Guilt. Yet, the smart, economical thing to do is hand down jackets to the younger kids. So why do I feel so bad about it lately? Probably because he looks so dang disappointed. From there the older two each got new skates. He didn’t really notice that part.

Fast forward back to the beginning of my story. “Where’s my pirate costume?”

“Mitchie, you’re a kangaroo! Kangaroos are awesome! Look, there’s a baby kangaroo in your pouch!” I’m not sure which is worse, seeing your brother in a pretty cool pirate costume, knowing that yours was dragged up from the basement, or realizing that your kangaroo is actually a new mother.

“But I don’t want to be a kangaroo. I want to be a pirate!”

“Mitchie, I don’t have a pirate costume for you. But your kangaroo costume is awesome, it’s the best costume!”

“No. I don’t want to be a kangaroo. I want to be a pirate.”

“Let’s make a deal. Next year when you’re four I’ll buy you a brand new costume, and Jordan and Tennyson will have to wear theirs again, but you’ll get a new one, okay?”

“Okay!”

Apparently, next year meant three days later when it was time to get dressed for a community Halloween party.

“Okay guys, time to get your costumes on!” The older two scurried into their costumes and Elliot woefully allowed herself to be stuffed into the stuffed dragon again. Mitchie sat on the top step of the front entrance, as slumpy as could be with his little chin resting on his chest and the most hang-dog expression on his face you ever saw.

“I’m not going. I’m staying home. I wanna be a pirate.”

“But I don’t have a pirate costume for you.”

“Then I’m staying home.” Apparently at three you can stay home alone.

“You’re not staying home. You are the best kangaroo ever! You have to be a kangaroo, this is the only costume we have for you right now.”

He put on his shoes and jacket and stomped out to the van, with as much stompiness as his 33 pounds would allow.

When we got to the hall Steven held out the kangaroo for Mitchie to step into.

“I’m not wearing it. I wanna be a pirate like Tennyson.”

“We don’t have a pirate. Put this on,” said Steven.

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to wear the costume or they won’t give you the goodie bag.”

The thought of missing out on candy was enough to get his little self into the kangaroo.

Fast forward again to Monday morning, and our dress-up day at diaper gym. Apparently this was a year later, because as we’re getting ready to go, Mitchie excitedly exclaims “Yay I’m going to be a pirate!”

“Mitchie, I don’t have a pirate costume, are you sure you don’t want to be a kangaroo?”

“No. Pirate.”

Sad face.

This is where my mommy guilt amped up. It was Halloween morning. Either I was going to force the kangaroo costume one more day or I was going to cave.

I caved. Off to Walmart we went before diaper gym started. I didn’t promise him one way or the other, and I had the kangaroo costume in my van, but I figured I’d at least go and see what they had. I flipped through the costumes on the rack. Everything was anywhere from $25 to $40, except one slightly cheaper $15 costume. Guess what it was.

There was one left, and it was in his size. Mitchie ended up being a pirate after all.

halloween 2011

2011-10-31T22:03:00.006-05:00

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 with handfuls of candy.
The eyeball gumballs really do taste as I imagine eyeballs do. Thanks to my super duper Evil Stepmother-in-Law for giving me that very pleasant and accurate comparison.
There were toddlers with their teenaged mothers still cruising up and down my street long after my kids were tucked into their beds.
If I grossly underestimate the amount of chili I need to make, my wonderful guests will pretend they're only a little hungry and I'll still end up with leftovers. Note to self: need to re-invite the same guests back for dinner again soon and make a spectacular dinner to save face.
Of all the kids on the street begging candy from strangers tonight, mine were definitely the cutest.
I know that was 11. Now 12. I'm okay with that.

Happy Halloween!

ps: the little guy in the Mickey Mouse costume on
the right is Riley, my little nephew. Ain't he cute?

second last day of blogtober

2011-10-30T00:02:00.000-05:00

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.

Tomorrow Jordan has a Halloween party (more on Halloween tomorrow). She will be a monarch butterfly. Tomorrow night brings Halloween. It's the first one Elliot will be able to partake in. I won't let her eat much of her loot, in fact I won't likely let her collect at most of the houses, but she can come along and see all the excitement on our little street.

Jordan and Tennyson are pretty psyched about Halloween. They've opted out of swimming lessons tomorrow night in favor of trick or treating. Mitchell's excited, but a little annoyed that Tennyson's costume is cooler than his. Unfortunately, he might be right. The poor kid has begun to notice that big brother gets all the new stuff and he gets hand-me-downs. I didn't think he'd feel this as much as he seems to be lately.

More on all of that tomorrow.

Good night!

hockey? oh no, not that again

2011-10-27T22:41:00.003-05:00

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.

Hey, what are friends for?

pet names

2011-10-25T14:05:00.005-05:00

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.

2011-10-25T14:04:00.001-05:00

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

2011-10-23T16:43:00.003-05:00

2011-10-22T23:24:00.002-05:00

I am the most forgetful Blogtoberer ever this year!

I think this should count. For real (as Mitchie now says).

2011-10-21T23:30:00.000-05:00

Soooo tired . . .

It's not even midnight on a Friday night. I am so old.

keep it real, zombie makers, keep it real!

2011-10-20T07:59:00.003-05:00

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 catch wind of what's going on and it turns into a feeding frenzy. Apparently they are really partial to innards - that seems to be the money shot on the show anyway.

So how, pray tell, are there really these massive hordes of zombies? Sure there are a few with some interesting injuries, but for the most part they aren't walking around dragging entrails and missing entire limbs.

Vampires are so much more realistic. Either the vampire bites and drains you, in which case you generally die and stay dead (thanks for that, by the way), or they leave you with a bit of your own blood and you make the change. Vampires seem to be able to decide upon an option when they bite.

Zombies? They gorge on you. All that's left is a puddle of some pretty sloppy ground chuck on the pavement when they're done.

So where did all the mostly whole zombies come from?

2011-10-19T12:55:00.002-05:00

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.

2011-10-16T16:30:00.002-05:00

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!

2011-10-16T14:29:00.004-05:00

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 gaggy faces. More bites. "I think I can't eat more."

"Just kidding, I totally used the stuff." I lied. I really didn't use the sanitizer. Whatever.

gecko

2011-10-16T14:05:00.005-05:00

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 tuned.

more on NaNoWriMo

2011-10-14T16:33:00.003-05:00

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 entire reason for writing a novel is shaky.

dinnertime/breakfast time woes

2011-10-12T07:53:00.003-05:00

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. That makes it even more fun.

Mitchell and Elliot are the worst. Elliot just won't eat. She'll sit at the table and either holler and squeal, or she'll sit quietly and cram her entire meal into her milk cup. That's fantastic.

Mitchell sits and just won't eat. He'll pick a little at the edges of the potatoes, maybe, and every once in a while he'll eat a meatball or some chicken. Most nights I think he just slides his food around his plate for twenty minutes to make it look like something happened in his plate and then he'll go when Jordan and Tennyson go and then just hold out for breakfast. Because if there's something the two youngest minions love it's the milky carby goodness of most breakfast meals. Sigh.

Last night I made chicken parm with salad and whole wheat rotini. Of course, Jordan liked it and Tennyson whined about having to eat his noodles.

Elliot, surprisingly, ate some chicken and noodles. I tried not to look at her, because I don't want to remind her that by eating her dinner she was making Mommy happy. I think part of it is trying to have me sent to the mental so that when Daddy goes to work every day they can go to daycare. Jordan begs every once in a while to go to daycare. I don't think it's because she doesn't like me, it's more because some of the kids at school get to stay and go to the after school program. Who wouldn't be jealous of more school?

Mitchell ate a few bites of chicken, for which I was happy. He then dug in his heels and went on and on and on (etc.) about how yucky the noodles were. He refused to eat them. I told him that if he didn't eat them he was getting them for breakfast. I think I followed that by "If you don't eat that you won't eat anything else forever and ever until you eat it."

I'm seriously nice.

He moaned and groaned and eventually ditched us. The noodles went into a container in the fridge. This morning he gets up and gets dressed, excited for his carby, milky breakfast only to get to the table (where the other kids are eating rice krispies) and be served his chicken parm from last night.

He gave them a shove and sat with his chin down, his arms crossed and the most beautifully perfect look of loathing on his face. I told him he wasn't getting rice krispies until he ate his supper.

Whining.

I told him that he could go then, and wouldn't be getting any breakfast. Little bugger gets up to leave.

I sigh and tell him to sit back down because he's calling my bluff. I hate when they do that! I'm most certainly not taking him to the library program hungry. Then he'll tell all the stepford mommies that his mommy didn't feed him today.

Tennyson got out his best "I'm talking to my baby brother" voice and managed to feed Mitchell a few bites of his noodles. Then he shoved them away again and resumed the chin down, arms crossed, look of loathing position.

The other kids left. I ate my breakfast. I checked facebook. Still loathing me from across the table. I tell him to take a bite. He puts one noodle in his mouth. He cries and makes yucky faces as though he's eating something from a Survivor challenge.

Shove.

I scoop up a spoonful of noodles. I hold it out. More whimpering. A little tear. The kid's a pro.

I count to three. He reluctantly opens his mouth at " . . . two . . . and . . . thrrrr" (I really don't want to spank him). I stick the bite in his mouth. He holds his mouth open like there are bugs in there and cries. I tell him to knock it off. He eventually eats it. He eats a bite or two more, and then is down to two bites. He eats the second last bite. Eats? I mean suffers through.

What kind of horrible mommy makes her child eat cheesy, saucy noodles? I know. Dial up CFS people.

Finally he has only one bite left. I fork it it. Two seconds later I look over and he's making the pukey face and genuinely retching. "Mitchell! Stop it! Don't you dare puke that up!" I snap. He's beyond the point of return. I hold out the bowl his noodles had been in. He leans forward and spits out the food, tears escaping from his eyes.

(For the record, the kid was born with tears - I swear. He is not really that tortured)

At this point he ate all but the one bite, and I wasn't about to force him to re-chew that last bite so I gave him his dang rice krispies.

The drama is so frustrating sometimes.

2011-10-11T20:06:00.002-05:00

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

2011-10-10T21:17:00.002-05:00

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 send something somewhere for other kids?

"Jordan, are you talking about Unicef?"

"Yeah!"

Whew. Look at me go.

At school the kids had an assembly to talk about Unicef. Remember when we used to get the little orange boxes to take with us on Halloween to try and raise money? They don't do the boxes anymore, but Unicef is still going strong.

Believe it or not, there is actually a school in a box. There are different levels of fundraising goals, and different things that people can donate toward.

$10 buys pencils and books (I think for one kid)
$32 buys a soccer ball and pump for a classroom
$86 buys a bicycle for a child to him him/her get to school every day
$240 buys enough school supplies to completely supply two classrooms with all the books, etc. that they need
$1940 buys a school tent - a place to house school when there are no buildings to do it in.

Jordan came home on Friday really eager to help kids by sending a school in a box. We talked about it some more and I told her that she could fund raise and try to earn the money to reach that level. So far she's up to about $75.

People ask her if she can earn prizes. I don't think there are prizes for dollar amounts (as in other fund raising events, like Jump Rope for Heart), although by starting up a fundraising page I think she gets entered in a draw for a prize at the end.

The awesome thing? That she came home excited about the school in a box, and not about any prizes. She really likes the idea of helping kids in a poor country go to school. Makes my Mommy Pride levels soar!

The other day she asked me why everyone in the world couldn't just each give a dollar - then wouldn't there be lots of money? I love her thinking, and I love that she cares.

If anyone is interested in sponsoring Jordan's fundraising efforts (and she actually has been asking people!), her fundraising page is HERE!

The money this year is going to support kids in Madagascar, Africa (not Australia).

van conversations

2011-10-08T10:23:00.004-05:00

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 dad if they don't have one.

When Tennyson says "When I'm a dad" he means "When I'm a grownup." Unless he says he'll be someone's dad - in that case he really means he'll look after them.

Me: That's really nice Tennyson, but when you're all grown up you'll probably have your own kids too.
Tennyson: You mean they'll come out of my tummy?
Jordan: (I'm sure she rolled her eyes first) No, you'll get married and the girl will have the baby. Not you. You're a boy.
Me: Yes Tennyson, when you're all grown up you might find a girl that you really really like and then you'll realize you love her and you two might decide to get married and then someday she'll have a baby in her tummy and that will be your baby too and you'll be the baby's dad.
Tennyson: What if we have another baby?
Me: Well then you'll have two babies.
Tennyson: No, what if we have another baby?
Me: You mean our family? Me?
Tennyson: Yeah!
Me: We won't Tennyson, my tummy is all done making babies.
Tennyson: Well what if we do?
Me: We won't.
Tennyson: But what if we do?
Me: We won't.
Tennyson: But what if we do?
Me: We won't. (getting mildly annoyed)
Tennyson: (thinking his mother is being mildly belligerent) But what if we do and it's a girl baby and we don't know what to name it? What are you going to name it?
Me: Tennyson. If we have another baby, you can name it.
Tennyson: Yay! Okay Mommy. I'll make sure to pick something you like.

He's so funny sometimes.

2011-10-08T10:23:00.001-05:00

Oh no! I forgot to blog yesterday! Shame on me.

the baby just sucked on my toe. ew.

2011-10-06T16:09:00.003-05:00

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 toast with jam spread on it. You feel thirsty, a cup of milk is poured for you.
After breakfast you accompany your care giver into your room where she helps you choose an outfit for the day. You toss your pjs into the laundry basket where it'll magically take care of itself and later find itself clean, folded and placed back into your drawer.
You spend two hours at nursery school playing and being served snack.
Back at home you are served lunch. Someone lovingly makes you a sandwich, cuts you a few pieces of cheese, cores and slices your apple and pours you some more milk. When you're finished your hands and face are carefully cleaned.
That same person accompanies you to the washroom for a pee and then hugs, kisses and tucks you in to bed so that you can have a couple of hours to nap and rest until it's time for more playing and food.

I know. It sounds horrible. I don't know how they stand it.

Elliot

2011-10-05T08:20:00.002-05:00

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 tables now, you can't leave a cup sitting there)
raisins
cheese
bananas (she's starting to turn her nose up at these)
bread
bread
bread
crackers
cookies
granola bars
pudding
yogurt
strawberries
apples
watermelon

Notice a trend? A lot of the list of "eats" is snack stuff. Of course she'll eat yogurt, granola bars and pudding. Who wouldn't? She also acts pretty spoiled about it. I'll give her a cracker and instantly the second hand comes up for a second cracker. If I walk away without filling both chubby little fists she howls.

At supper she wants milk. Probably because she's hungry because nothing at the supper table will ever pass her lips. She may take a bite or two of something, but then makes this concentrated look of disgust as she chokes it down before very conspicuously removing the offensive foods from the high chair to the floor one morsel at a time. Then she holds out her cup and bellows. I snap at her to be quiet, at which point she waves her cup and gives me a look of ridicule for not meeting her demands, since I have obviously noticed her and her cup. She bellows again. I take her cup and put it on the table. She kicks her feet and hollers at me, reaching for the cup. She thinks I'm a little daft for not figuring out what she wants, since she's being so very clear about it.

In the morning I feed her cheerios and milk. I don't even bother eating my own cereal until she's done and gone from the table because the minute I put her spoon down for a second to take a bite of my breakfast she screams as though she's being cut off. This is probably due to the fact that she's starving from not eating since lunch the day before. It doesn't matter how full her mouth is, she still panics at the thought of me dropping the shovel.

She's quite a princess. She acts so much more spoiled than she is.

She's also pretty awesome. She may be clingy but not cuddly, but she's also pretty into her mommy. It's to the point where she's a little possessive. She's quite jealous of the attention I give to the other kids. She's annoyed if I try to do dishes or stand at the counter. If I sit on the floor she grins and comes running for a quick hug, before climbing and flopping around on me. She kisses, she wants up, she shows me things, she follows me around in the kitchen and plays at my feet. She shuts drawers and cupboards almost obsessively if I leave them open.

Elliot's got the biggest, most mischievous smile ever.

She's also got the cutest little thick legs and the roundest softest pot belly.

Her personality and diva-ness are larger than life.

my boys

2011-10-04T16:45:00.003-05:00

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 not to put Mitchie down for a nap because he wants to play with him.

Love these guys.

Even if they're a little naughty. :)

laundry

2011-10-03T13:42:00.004-05:00

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 to wake Mitchie and Ellie up at 3 o'clock if they're not already awake so we can all go and pick up Jordan from school.

What have I done today? Well, I have not cleared and wiped the table, or put away the sandwich supplies or wiped the counter. I also have not vacuumed. I did clear the floor in my bedroom with the intent to vacuum. Clear the floor means put dirty clothes in the laundry (let's blame Steven for this) and pile all the baskets of clean laundry on the bed. Surprise, surprise, I found two half full baskets of the girls' laundry, and not one pair of clean pants for little Mitchell. Luckily the boy doesn't dribble in his pants, so his dirty pants aren't really that dirty. Unfortunately he looked a little mental today in his plaid pants (that somehow look like pj pants, even though they aren't) and his striped long-sleeved shirt and his unbrushed hair. Happily, his radiant little toothy smile helps to draw attention to his little face and away from his clown costume.

Where was I? Right, not doing my chores. I actually did scoop the dirty laundry pile in my closet into a basket after dumping the basket full of clean clothes onto the bed. I went downstairs and threw the laundry into the wash. On a hunch I checked the dryer. More clothes. Fantastic. I can't wait for the laundry fairy to come and fix some of this for me. Oh wait, I might just be the laundry fairy.

Aren't fairies supposed to be thinner? More petite? Guess not. I'm a new age laundry fairy.

Of course now I can't vacuum because the kids are sleeping. And I can't mop the floors because . . . hey! What's that over there?

Dishes? Um, I'm blaming Blogtober. I have certain internet obligations that must be fulfilled. I also have paper plates and plastic forks and knives for supper. I kid. We haven't actually dirtied any plates today.

***

Thankfully a friend just called and we chatted for a few minutes. Since I can't type blog posts while talking on the phone without becoming suspiciously quiet, I did the dishes and cleaned the counter, table and high chair instead. Not too shabby. That's how we women multitask. We, not wee.

Would you like to know what Steven considers multitasking? Brushing his teeth with one hand and grabbing my bum with the other. Imagine my joy.

biking

2011-10-02T20:40:00.002-05:00

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 took us a while to get here - all the nagging has apparently paid off.

Steven thinks he needs his own computer. Apparently he doesn't think we should have to share. It actually would be kind of nice.

Great, now he's coming over here to read over my shoulder. I think he just does that because he knows I hate it. Nothing makes a bad blog post worse than writing it while someone is reading it.

Now he's staring at me all weirdly. I'm outta here.

Blogtober, Day 1

2011-10-01T14:36:00.002-05:00

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.

I never promised that Blogtober would be profound - it'll just be what it is, and today it's cookies.

I've had a busy week. On Monday I went to a Home & School meeting. I think I've rethought this whole Home & School thing. I know it would be good to be involved, but I don't know that I have the energy to help with this right now.

On Tuesday I went over to Angela's for her 30th birthday - Happy Birthday Angela! I

On Wednesday we entertained here. Dad & Doris and Deanne & Travis came over for spaghetti. It's nice to catch up. It seems like people are so busy so often (trust me, it sure feels like I am) and I like to slow things down and share a meal.

On Thursday we had Grey's night at Steph's. I think it was probably more Food Night with a little side of Grey's.

Last night I went to Boston Pizza with another group of women for dinner. I highly recommend the crispy chicken wrap.

Tonight? Well, tonight I have plans again - this time with Steven. Don't tell him this, but I kind of miss him when I'm so busy.

Did I mention that my husband is being honored with an award for his grades during his first stretch of schooling? In a couple of weeks we'll be in Winnipeg at an awards dinner and evening, and Steven will receive his award then. I'm pretty proud of him. I keep telling him that actually, and in a bit of a sappy voice - he blushes every time. I think he's a little shy with direct compliments.

2011-09-29T18:54:00.002-05:00

Two more sleeps until Blogtober.

I think capitalizing it lends credibility to the event. I'm sure you want to join.

Shoot, I had a blog post in mind when I logged in here and now it's completely gone. My head is an anomaly.

I guess this means staying on top of cutting my fingernails in the month of October. Does anybody else find that typing is more efficient with short fingernails? I do. I have no idea how women with their wickedly long gel nails can effectively work their way around a keyboard. I type between 90 and 95 wpm and having long nails cuts that way down.

I'm sorry. I'm sure my original blog post idea was way more interesting than the length of my fingernails. I'll amp up my subject matter in time for Blogtober - at least for the first week.

just a heads up

2011-09-28T21:01:00.002-05:00

Blogtober is nearly upon us. Anybody with me? Are we going to blog every day in October? You have three sleeps to prepare. That link is just to my blog last October. This blog has some serious vanity issues.

From there - NaNoWriMo!! The past three years I've attempted to write a story. I have not gotten very far. This is the year.

Anybody out there have a novel idea (ooh punny)? Seriously - just a sentence or two will do.

Just say "Write a story about . . . " I need to steal your hooks, unless you're going to use them to write a story.

Steven? You in? NaNoWriMo?

home and school

2011-09-26T20:54:00.002-05:00

I went to the Home and School meeting tonight. It wasn't anything like I thought it would be. Including the principal, a teacher, the chair, and two people who were leaving, there were eight people. Apparently it was a good turnout compared to other meetings. There was no hiding in the back row and texting my friends.

Being the first meeting of the year one of the orders of business was to fill the positions in student council.

Being that there were only five people there who could take positions, and there were four positions to fill, there was a certain amount of pressure for us to take a position. I felt a little bit like picking up my stuff and running for the door, leaping over tables and chairs on my way out, except that I'll likely bump into the majority of those people tomorrow morning, and each school day from now until June 2020. I'm actually debating volunteering for the treasurer job.

Reasons why not? Well, not actually finishing anything on my to-do lists at home ever comes to mind. Busy? Maybe. Lazy? Meh, probably. Procrastinator extraordinaire? Uh, yeah.

Reasons why maybe? Well, I've got four kids who are going to to through that school. Being part of the committee would give me a good insight into some of the workings of the school, fundraisers, events, etc.

Why not? I think there would be a lot of work with a lot of events. I do have my hands kind of full already. Not that I'd have to volunteer to take huge roles in everything all the time.

Why maybe? Someday I want to look for a teaching job. Being out of the field for years may hinder my job search efforts. Being a part of school committee in some capacity might help to show an active role and interest in school and school functions in my future resume and portfolio.

Who knows. I have a few weeks to think about it before the next meeting. They were hoping to fill the positions tonight, but nobody jumped on them so it's being left until the next meeting.

And no, accepting a position would not require that I start hot rollering my hair and putting on full makeup before dropping my kids off for school in the morning.

Thoughts? And be honest.

blogging, biking, squished fingers, bare bums, friends, swimming lessons, parent meetings, reigning and yellow t-shirts

2011-09-26T18:15:00.005-05:00

I keep telling myself I'm going to get more hard-core with this blog, and then I don't blog for days, weeks, forever. Sometimes I think that there isn't enough interesting stuff going on, or that the things that are keeping me busy aren't going to be all that exciting for the general public.

I had a good idea the other day, then I forgot what it was.

This morning I went biking. I had this little 9.4 mile route mapped out. I had originally wanted to run, but I woke up with a sore, thick throat and figured that biking would be easier. Maybe if I was a biker. I run over the overpass all the time - twice each run. Today? I biked over it on my way out and almost died, and then took a different route home. I also turned back early at only 6 miles. I felt a little wimpy, but I'm going to blame being a little sick. Nothing like waking up with your eyelashes glued shut with eye-snot to make a person excited to get up and exercise at 5:30am.

Whatever. The world needs fat people too. Who else is going to keep the granola bar companies in business? Do you have any idea how many people work at those companies? Me neither, but I bet it's a lot.

My youngest two are squealing with delight and opening and slamming the bathroom door. Once upon a time I'd have freaked out at the thought of little fingers being squished in there, and stopped the game at once. Now? I put bets on which kid is going to be the first. I'm going to say Elliot. Then she'll slap him on his head and run away. Sibling joy.

I'm really full of granola bars right now. It's kind of my secret sin. I love them. I had eggs and kraft dinner for supper, and there's something about Kraft Dinner - no matter how much I eat don't feel full. Hence the granola bars.

Apparently Mitchell can't pull up his pants and underwear. He wants to know if I'll do it. Will I? Perhaps.

Feeling kind of slumpy.

I'm going to the Home and School parent meeting tonight. I have this fear of walking into a room of Stepford Mommies. I've talked about SM's before. I have no desire to be one. I don't have the energy for it. My kids laugh and play a lot, love each other and love me - regardless of whether they're wearing underwear.

Part of me feels like putting on Steven's old sweatpants and hoodie and mix matched sandals with socks in them, donning a messy side pony tail, chewing eight pieces of gum and sitting in the front row right in the middle.

But I won't. Because I'm a wussy.

I'm sure it'll be fine.

I won't even tell you why I had to pick Jordan up early from school today. Someday she might read this blog and be mad. I don't want to embarrass my kids. She's kind of getting to an age where I don't want to just splash all the bits of her life and self onto the internet. She's a fun, spunky, bull-headed kid, and I love her for so many reasons. She's so far removed from the 1, 2, and 3 year old moving through stages the same as other kids. Not that they're all the same, but her personality, fears, characteristics, etc. are so much more pronounced all the time and some of it should be up to her to share. I'm sure that when she's old enough to write, type and be merry that she'll start up her own blog. That would be cute. I might let her. It might have to be a private blog to hide her from online scary people. Not that everyone online is scary. I know a few people online that I've never met in real life. I'd probably be scared to. Does anyone else have a fear of inviting over a new friend, and then not having anything interesting to say and completely boring and disillusioning said new friend? No? Okay, me neither.

I'm going to pick up my kids from swimming lessons soon.

As per facebook:

I want to go to the Home and School meeting tonight. It starts at 7. The kids' swimming lessons go from 6-6:30 and from 6:30-7. My plan was to send him swimming with them and show up there at 6:45 to collect the first kid and then wait in the van with three of them while he hurries out with the 4th at 7:00. I figured I'd be a few minutes late, but no big deal. His plan? For me to just drop off Mitchie and Elliot with him at the pool at 6:45. His funeral. lol

Right, I'm not picking anyone up - I'm actually leaving Steven with more kids. Preschool aged. At the local swimming pool, where the older two kids are in lessons with their friends and will behave like angels at departure time, I'm sure.

He's one of those dads that will take the reins (I almost wrote "reigns" - but that's not right, pretty sure they reign in this house more than we do) anytime he needs to. I'm not saying he won't be beating his head against the wall by the time he's got them in bed, but he'll be happy to send me on my way again the next night if needed. I love that.

Because kids have that "head beating against the wall" effect on people. Luckily, Daddy has a nice hard head. The wall doesn't stand a chance.

Not much else. I feel a little ill from kraft dinner and granola bars. Who on earth feeds that to their kids for supper? Good grief. I'm going to call CFS on myself. It might get me a few days off. But then the boys would miss yellow (or "wellow" if you ask Mitchie) week at nursery school, and Tennyson is really into the colour weeks. Right - I have to run to Walmart tonight for two yellow t-shirts.

It never ends.

But it will, and will it ever be quiet in here without them. :(
I'll hear all this new noise, and realize it's the sound of my own thinking - if it's not rusted right out by then.

i should probably just home school them

2011-09-18T14:47:00.003-05:00

But I won't.

I have bought a few "teach your kids . . . " books lately.

One is Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.

The method seems different than what I'd expect, but once you get into it there's so much sense to it! I started with Jordan yesterday, and she went through the first three lessons before her attention was irretrievable. Then just for kicks I did the first little exercise or two in lesson one with Tennyson. Jordan will have absolutely no trouble with it, and I'm convinced that it's something Tennyson can do too, although a little slower. I expect that Jordan (since she knows the alphabet and sounds already) will fly through it. She can actually sound out easier words already with a bit of prompting, and is so close that I know she'll have no trouble. Tennyson actually knows his alphabet (writing, the names of letters, etc. - yay Brain Quest!) and I know he can do this too. I'd probably go slower with him so we don't get halfway through the book and have to remind him of everything. One a day will be his limit. He's all eager about it, so it'll be twenty minutes a day that we can spend together doing something productive while the younger two are napping and Jordan is at school. I'm pretty excited about it for them.

The other book I bought the other day is Learn to Play - Guitar for Young Beginners. Jordan and Steven had their first lesson today, and it was awesome to see them in the living room together, each with their own guitars, focused on the book and the two notes they were learning.

Piano lessons are probably out of the budget this year (for now anyway), and I figured that since I had someone who was a bit of a musician in the house, why not take full advantage? Plus, what awesome Daddy/Daughter time! I sat with them for a few minutes and then wandered off to do laundry (it's hard not to hover, after all) and give them some space to work through part of the first lesson.

I love when kids learn instruments!

Actually, I may go through lesson one myself tonight after bedtime so that I can encourage her to practice this week so Steven can show her something new next weekend.

That's about it for what's new here. I also bought the Grade 1 Brain Quest book, and Jordan's a little miffed at me for making her finish parts of the Kindergarten book before she moves on. There are actually a few things in the kindergarten book that she didn't do at school last year - the French Immersion curriculum is a little different, being that there is so much focus on the language. I figure that if I go through this book with her and teach her a little extra it can't hurt. It's kind of a fun age for teaching them things. They're so excited to do their homework. They beg to do it, and then they resist putting it away, which means that I end up losing entire afternoons to it when we get the books out. I'm thinking an egg timer, and a daily homework time slot might be the way to go. Little keeners.

cool or cheesy?

2011-09-15T18:50:00.003-05:00

Jordan is in Grade 1 this year without any of her friends from last year. Privacy rules being what they are, we as parents get no class lists or last names of the kids or phone numbers of other parents. It's kind of annoying. Jordan has played with a couple of the kids from her class, but half the time she doesn't remember what the kids names are, never mind the last names or who their mothers are.

A friend of mine suggested looking up mommy business cards online. I looked. They're cute. It's something you could give to a mom on a playground instead of looking for a pen and paper to exchange information, or tuck inside a birthday invitation or give to Jordan to send home with a new friend at school to give to the other parents. This is what I found. Not sure if I'm going to do it or not. What do you think, cute or cheesy?

'twas the night before school

2011-09-07T18:54:00.003-05:00

On Jordan's first day of kindergarten I forgot to send her a snack. She didn't forget it all year that on the first day of school she was the one kid with no snack. Although her teacher assures me that there were lots of kids with no snack, that's not how Jordan remembers it.

Tomorrow is the first day of Grade 1. I feel like such a newbie. I think I have more Grade 1 jitters than Jordan does. She's over the moon about starting grade 1 tomorrow. I worry. Will she be sad when she walks into the classroom only to remember that her closest friends aren't with her this year? Will she make new friends? Will the kids be nice to her? Will her teacher like her? Will she secretly hate school and not tell me?

More importantly, right now, in this moment - how do I pack her lunch?

I know it seems silly, but I'm not sure how much food to send. At home I just let them eat until they stop. So far, my plan for Jordan's lunch is this:

a ham and cucumber sandwich (alas, out of lettuce, or that would be on there too)
a carrot
a yogurt
a boiled egg

There's no treat. When I was a kid we had a wagon wheel or a huge chunk of rice krispie cake or something dessert-like. I'm kind of out of dessert-like stuff. I wonder if she'll notice? I wonder if I should give her part of an aero chocolate bar that's waiting for me in the freezer. It's not something I'd always send, but it's the first day of school after all. Normally I'd consider a granola bar or a pudding to be dessert. Guess I'm off my game. I'm still kind of in denial that summer has come to an end so quickly. She may end up with some chocolate bar.

I have to make up for the epic first day of kindergarten.

Any thoughts? I don't want her to have too little food, and yet I don't want her to have to load her lunch box into a wagon and heave it to school either.

I am kind of impressed with myself for including all four food groups.

I wonder if they'll have a snack in the morning. Maybe I'll add an apple in there. I just asked her if they were going to have snack time in the morning. She asked for either a granola bar or a pudding. Crap, I have neither.

Worst. Mother. Ever.

Sigh. I'll be putting in that chocolate bar for sure.

2011-09-07T15:24:00.001-05:00

I'm seriously giving up on printing off this paper.

2011-09-07T15:21:00.003-05:00

I'm sitting in the "office" in the basement, trying to get my stupid printer to print off one stupid thing, and it won't. Whatever. As I sit here I find myself thinking: I should clean this dumpy dump dump room up again and use it as an office. Funny how these things change. I used to sit down in this (probably equally messy) room on the desktop and think would it ever be cool to have a laptop and be able to drag it upstairs, and it is, but it would be kind of neat to have this room more functional too. I envision a nice tidy work area, papers that are actually filed, a clean desk with only my printer and scanner on so it would be easy to plunk down and plug in when I needed to use these things.

You never know, it just may happen. Maybe a shelf, a cactus or a picture or two may find their way down here yet too.

I'll be sure to post some before and after pictures if I decide to spring clean this dumpy room.

we bought a tent trailer this summer

2011-09-04T20:46:00.002-05:00

We love it. I actually had a number of camping trips planned this year when we thought we were going to be tenting it, and then on a whim we bought a tent trailer at the end of July. Since then we have camped six different times at four different campgrounds.

It's actually a lot of work with four young kids, but they really love it and I've always liked camping so it's interesting trying to rework our camping expectations to fit around the needs and craziness of our family.

We actually just came home today from Shady Oaks. Each September long weekend the Manitoba Old Time Bluegrass Society has a giant camp out at Shady Oaks campground just West of Austin. Steven's Dad and not-so-wicked Stepmom both play and sing in bluegrass groups and are heavily involved in this weekend so we like to camp and enjoy the bluegrass atmosphere, performances and of course the campground and pool.

We were supposed to camp from Friday to Monday but we kind of pooped out today and came home a day early. I don't think we did too badly since it was our third camping weekend in a row. I kind of felt bad though, as it seemed that by the end of the weekend we were doing more and more yelling and scolding at our increasingly belligerent children.

All in all, it was a great summer. In just two sleeps Tennyson and Mitchell start nursery school and two days later Jordan goes into grade 1. It's amazing how time flies. The summer just flew by, as have the last few. It still amazes me that Jordan is going to be in school full-time. Even more so that Mitchell (my baby for so long) is actually old enough, big enough, independent enough, to go to nursery school. A little sad, and a little exciting too. He's going to love it. He's got his new spiderman shoes and backpack all ready to go.

Now I'm sitting in the camper with the three oldest kids. I told them that since we were going to leave a day early we'd sleep in the camper tonight, so as not to rob them of their third night of camping. They always ask at the beginning of a camping trip how many nights we are going to stay. There's no way we can sneak home early.

I had visions today of them falling asleep right away (you know, being so tired and all) and me reading my book and computing in my bunk. Maybe texting. As it turns out, the few hours at home have refreshed them. Mitchell is now in my bed because he wouldn't stop pestering his brother. Tennyson is playing some sort of swarthy game in his bunk and refuses to stop making noises and sound effects. Jordan won't stop yapping until she's sure that everyone else is done. Mitchie brought a book with him, and despite me repeatedly tucking him in, he's now sitting beside me and reading me the book. I suppose I should shut this thing down and give him a moment of my time. In a few years he may be less than interesting in cuddling up with Mommy and a book.

Sometimes I see other peoples' kids walk quietly beside them, and not climb everything in site and touch everything that's not nailed down. Some kids have inside voices. I know, crazy.

I used to wish my kids would be just a little more subdued sometimes, but you know, then they just wouldn't be my kids. They kind of rock. And drive me a little nuts - but they're all mine. And one little tousled blond one really wants me to look at his little pirate story.

Back in a few.

to cut or not to cut?

2011-08-26T13:58:00.003-05:00

The little blond cherub in the middle, staring at the camera is Mitchie. He turned three on the 17th and may I say he's adorable. I say that in the most unbiased way imaginable. It's true. He's frickin' cute. The way he hugs is cute, the way he putters about his day is cute, the way he tries to get out of getting in trouble for being naughty is cute. It actually is. He grins and peers at me from the corners of his eyes and his little fluffy hair frames his cute, grinning, naughty face.

About his hair. It's longish, and curly and bleached blond. He's the bleachedest, blondest of all my kids. He's kind of pretty. When he runs his curls bounce.

Today at Walmart the cashier asked me to move her (Mitchie) out of the way so she could scan a larger item in my cart. Poor Mitchie. He totally could be a girl if you didn't know he wasn't. I should maybe cut that mop, but it's so sweet! It's bad enough that he's three already, if I cut his hair he'll really look like a big boy. The fluffy moppy hair keeps him looking like a little boy.

I got thinking today that I should leave it until Halloween and dress him up like a rag doll. I'm guessing that in years to come that kind of thing won't fly, but for now...

Then I may cut it. Maybe.

spaghetti sauce

2011-08-20T20:05:00.003-05:00

I've been getting sacks of veggies each Wednesday. It's kind of crazy. This week the bag had green beans, corn on the cob, potatoes, beets, carrots, cucumbers, zucchini, cabbage, broccoli, cabbage, onions and green onions. It's a lot. I still have stuff from the past couple of weeks that I haven't gotten around to.

Tonight I decided that I needed to take care of some of this. I really don't want to compost my mountains of veggies. Actually, we've been doing pretty well. Not much has been wasted. I had a tray and a half of ground beef in my fridges that I needed to do something with, so instead of bagging and freezing it I made spaghetti sauce.

My spaghetti sauce:

4 onions
4.7 pounds of lean ground beef
1 red pepper
1 yellow pepper
4 celery stalks
a big handful of carrots
2.5 zucchini
numerous garlic cloves
giant handful of green beans
can of diced tomatoes
4 cans of Hunt's pasta sauce
fresh basil
oregano
3 bay leaves
salt and pepper. You don't want to know how much salt. I figure that my body will be preserved for years after I die.

I was going to toss in a couple of kohlrabi's that I'm not entirely sure what to do with. I think I'll just cut them up and roast them when I do my zucchini. I've never actually roasted zucchini before, but I know I'll like it. Is it normal that I love zucchini raw? I'll cut it all up with the intentions of sauteing it with something, and before the pan is ready for it I've eaten half of it off the counter.

I'll probably get worms.

Did your mother ever tell you not to eat certain things because you'd get worms? Mine did. Thanks Mom. I now resign myself to the impending worms every time I eat something a little different. Raw pasta was what was apparently going to give me worms as a kid. My mom always told me that I was going to get worms when I'd sneak a raw stick of spaghetti out of the box. I'm sure it didn't stop me. I figured that nature would figure it all out. I now tell my kids the same thing and it doesn't stop them either. It does make Steven roll his eyes and look at me like I descended from Mars.

It's really cool on Mars. Cooler than Venus anyway.

Where was I?

Right, raw zucchini. It's too bad I don't crave it enough to eat that when I feel munchie, instead of copious amounts of granola bars.

I could eat one right now. A granola bar. Or seven. May as well just make it eight for the box.

Right, spaghetti sauce. It's delicious!! I pureed one and a half of the zucchinis to make the sauce a little thicker before I added in the can of diced tomatoes. It was all neat and green with chunks of tomato floating in it. Yum. I also used my beloved new food processor to slice the beans, the rest of the zucchini, the carrots, peppers, etc.

When I make spaghetti sauce the kids now ask me if it's homemade. Apparently they don't like it when I add loads of extra stuff to it. I've always made it with ground beef, onion, a pepper, garlic, and a can of spaghetti sauce. Sometimes I throw in some mushrooms. They're good with this stuff. It's the green beans, carrots, hunks of zucchini that they complain about.

Suckers. Not that it doesn't taste good. I love my spaghetti sauce! They'll learn.

It made four meals (probably each with leftovers), which I divided into ice cream pails for my freezer. Yay pre-made dinner! Did you know that you can drop a frozen ice-cream pail sized block of food into a slow cooker in the morning and at five o'clock you've got a delicious, bubbling, savory meal for your family?

Now you do.

Bon Apetit!

when times are tight

2011-08-16T17:16:00.002-05:00

lazy tuesday morning

2011-08-16T11:42:00.002-05:00

My goal today was to stay home this morning and not schedule any play dates. My bathroom needs scrubbing, my floors need vacuuming (and mopping, but let's not get carried away) and there are loads of laundry to do. Not to mention the camper that's still set up in the driveway to be cleaned up a bit, repacked, folded up and moved out of the way. Nor does that count the garage sale I am determined to have this weekend, which should prompt me to actually find, sort and price stuff and declutter this crazy house. I also wonder how long the plants I bought will last on the front step without being planted. I watered them a few days ago so they should be fine, right?

So much to do, and even a little time to do it.

Now it's noon. There is one load in the washing machine that's probably ready to go in the dryer and that's all I've accomplished this morning. It's been a nice morning. I talked on the phone with a friend, the kids slept in until seven, ate breakfast at 8, and only got out of their jammies shortly thereafter. I'm kind of reveling in laziness, and yet still feeling guilty that I've done nothing but complain about the state of this place and yet I'm not taking advantage of prime cleaning and decluttering time.

Whatever. The baby hasn't complained yet about still being in only a pj top and a diaper. I guess I could wash the crusty boogies off her face. She's now hurling megablocks down the basement stairs. Mitchie is going to be a little annoyed when he figures out what's going on, especially since it's the remnants of the tower he smashed when he had a mini tantrum.

He's decided that since he never terrible two'd, he had better not waste the threes. It's still pretty minor compared to his brother's bout with the threes - so far.

I can't believe summer is careening so fast into the impending fall/winter/school start. I'm not ready for any of that. Jordan will be in grade 1, and she'll actually be gone most of the day. I kind of liked dropping them off at nursery school and kindergarten for a couple of hours in the morning and having them home by noon. Having her gone from 8:45 until 3:30 is a little sad. The boys will both be in nursery school two days a week, leaving me with two mornings each week with only one child. I'll admit I'm (more than) a little excited about a little breathing room! I can't even imagine going grocery shopping with only one kid. It's been years since that's happened! However. Having them all home in time for lunch is nice. *Sniff*

What else?

Blogging is great for procrastinating.

I also promised myself that I'd clean up the toy room with the kids today.

My to-do list:

vacuum
wash bedding (in progress)
pack up camper
clean toy room
declutter something
plant plants
wash girls' laundry
procrastinate (done!)

That's right. I'm just using you. I'm sure you'll forgive me.

if mitchie only had glasses

2011-08-16T09:45:00.001-05:00

2011-08-15T21:27:00.003-05:00

Just like that the day is more or less done. It's 9:30. I always have this plan to go to bed at 10, get a good night's sleep, get up early (5:30) and run, shower, and feel energized and well slept and ready to start the day, without coffee.

Usually I watch Big Bang reruns until after 11, go to bed, maybe fall asleep right away, turn off my alarm clock in my sleep, wake up closer to seven to the joyful noise of kids fighting, eat a Tylenol or two (sometimes), and hang out in my pjs until I absolutely have to dress myself. The well-slept part? Not so much. Usually after lunch I fall asleep on the couch, around the time that I had planned on doing some strength training.

Contrary to popular belief, "chasing kids around all day" is not really exercise, and carrying a heavyish toddler is not really strength training. If these things were true I'd be seriously cut. My kids are runners and jumpers and jokers and biters. I spent a little time chasing, more time carrying and the most time hollering from my comfy spot on the couch.

Ooh phone! It's Steph, do I answer?

I think that's called live blogging folks. I am so 21st century.

Chatted. Now I'm back. As if I'm not distracted enough when I blog/cook/fold laundry.

You know what else? This could be TMI. If anybody doesn't want to read about anything bathroom feel free to skip ahead some. It doesn't seem to matter which bathroom I use, and we have three - they find me. I could retreat to the en suite bathroom, and no sooner do I sit down but I hear little feet thumping (there is no sweet pitter pattering in this house) up and down the hall and looking for Mommy.

My point? (this is more for refocusing me than filling you in. I'm sure by now you just think I'm a little mad)(isn't it also annoying when people put parenthesis after the period/question mark/exclamation mark? thought so. I'm taking creative license here, just carry on. I really have nothing specific to blog about, I just thought I should try and stay more current)

My point is that I never actually start something and finish that something in a time frame reasonable to that task. What a confusing sentence. I'm sure it's somewhat proper though, so deal.

My baby boy turns three this week. We actually had his birthday party on Sunday, so he thinks he's three already. I'm not going to bother confusing him by explaining that his party was not on his actual birthday. When Jordan turned three she had three different parties. When all was said and done she told me that she was five now, because of all the parties. It was cute. I can see how she'd be confused.

Mitchie never terrible two'd. He has by far been my most laid back, mellow kid. Lately he's had a couple of tantrums and he's become especially possessive of his things. Watch him be the craziest one now. Today he had a tantrum and I calmed him down just by pulling him into my lap and giving him a hug. Then he just had a little cry and settled down. I'm hoping he won't get too ragey in the months to come.

Steven just fired up an episode of the Big Bang Theory. It's all downhill from here.

no, it's not a dog

2011-08-11T17:32:00.002-05:00

I just called Steven to tell him to pick something up at the store on his way home. I told him that he needed to come home and see what I bought, that it was necessary, and kind of a bigger item. He doesn't wait well. Soon he was guessing and wanting to know what it was. I told him he'd have to wait and see, and that it was sort of for everybody.

S: It's not a dog is it?
T: (pause, he's so fun sometimes) . . . Maybe.
S: You didn't.
T: (frantically looking for a dog barking on youtube) Just come see.
S: (exasperated, as if I'd actually buy a dog on a whim and not ok it first) You had better not have bought a dog. You didn't.

- Dog starts yapping on youtube.

T: Shit, this is the first time it's barked. I promise it's not going to bark.
S: You didn't. Is that a dog? Really? (big sigh) I'm going to have to kill it. (lol he wouldn't really)
T: Just come see.
S: (breathing noises) You didn't. Not really. Is it a robot dog?
T: Just come see!

It's his own fault, he put the idea out there. Thanks YouTube!

mama's new toy

2011-08-11T16:15:00.005-05:00

We've been getting vegetables from a local farming family. At the beginning of the summer we bought a share of the gardens, and each week they deliver a couple of bags of veggies. It's turning into a lot of veggies. There are multiple types of lettuce, swiss chard, kale, kohlrabi, zucchini, cucumbers, carrots, potatoes, green beans, yellow beans, peas, broccoli, radishes, beets, spinach and onions as well as different fresh herbs.

It's crazy.

I hate the thought of composting my organic, farm fresh veggies. Yesterday Steven threw a bunch of kale into the compost bucket. It was very sad. Yesterday we received our weekly veggies, and we weren't even through the bags from the week before. I decided to pure some of the veggies. Today I dug everything out of the fridge and put it all out on the island. I figured I could make a green puree out of some of the green stuff. I steamed some of the green and yellow beans and broccoli and blanched the kale. I piled it into the blender. Of course, it wouldn't blend. I hate my blender. Hate it. Stuff never blends. I don't know what you're actually supposed to use a blender for, because anything I've ever tried to prepare in the blender just results in me having blender rage and stabbing the stuff down with a spoon - for hours.

Again, I got out the wooden spoon and stabbed the daylights out of the kale at the bottom of the blender. I packed it around the blades. Surely it would work. I hit the button, only to see all my kale spring out and stick it's bastardly self all over the inside of the blender, silently mocking me.

If only I had a food processor. Shouldn't every mom have one? I'm a mom too you know.

I crammed the stupid kale all back down around the blades again. I squashed some swiss chard in around it (bet you want to come over and eat some puree) and hit the button again. Deep breaths.

It was ridiculous. I threw my spoon on the counter and yelled "Kids! Get your shoes on. We're going to the store!" I heard the "yays" and stomping of little feet flying up the basement stairs.

I stood there a moment longer. Did people really impulse buy these things? I hate spending money. The blender supposedly blends.

"Never mind. Go play, we're not going to the store."
"Aawww. You teased us!"
"I know. Sorry. I think I teased myself!"

I sent a bunch of dejected children back down the basement and again packed the food into the blender. I had added water earlier. It was nice to see that the water around the blades had a slight greenish tinge to it. Surely it would all blend up sooner or later right?

I put the lid on. Before I had a chance to hit the button, the blender sprung to life on its own. Nothing like haunted kitchen appliances to brighten ones day. I pushed the OFF button. It wouldn't turn off. I pushed it a bunch more times - when the machine thinks there are a BUNCH of angry women trying to turn it off it should comply for sure. Nope. I unplugged it.

Huh. Dare I hope? Is it broken?

I plugged it back in. It fired back up, and again wouldn't turn off until I unplugged it. I think I'd have messed myself a little had it started up without being plugged in. It actually occurred to me at one point. I think I read too much.

I unplugged it. I plugged it back in. Nothing. I pushed the ON button. Nothing.

Yes!!

"Kids! Get your shoes on, we're going to Walmart!"
"Yay! Are we getting a cookie?"
"Nope. That's Sobey's."
"Aw."
"Don't 'Aw' me. Get your shoes on."

Fourteen seconds later and I was in the van, cruising to the store and trying to simultaneously talk myself into and out of buying a food processor. It's not really in the budget, but then neither are groceries so really, what's one more thing right?

At Walmart: I pile my two youngest into the cart, and futilely threaten the oldest into behaving themselves. I don't know about everyone else's kids, but mine do the best at the store when I move fast enough that they have to run to keep up. When I want to stop and compare products and prices is when the whole behavior thing crumbles.

I found an end display of food processors for $130. Crap. I was hoping they'd be cheaper. $9.97 would have been nice. I stopped a worker and asked if they had any more. She told me that it wasn't her department so she didn't know, but that's probably all they had, and did she want me to find someone who would know for sure?

Uh, no. Thanks for your help. I should really get a job at one of these places. Seriously? I'm sure Walmart has only five food processors. I carried on. An isle over they had their usual stock and selection. There was a $30 processor, and an $80 right beside it. Not to be hoity toity, but I sometimes question the value of the really cheap version of something, especially when it's an appliance. I stood there, thinking, while the kids tried out all the spring loaded loose tea holders. I knelt down to read the features. A flip flop spiralled past me on the floor. Why my kids can't just keep their shoes on in the store is beyond me. I decided I was taking the expensive one. They had other ones too, some around the same price, some much more expensive. This one held 10 cups and had another attachment for grating stuff, and a dough hook thing. Cuz I make bread. Ha. Pizza dough maybe.

I rounded up the heathens and paid for my merchandise.

I loaded them into the van, scolding them for being naughty in the store. Of course when one is out with her four naughty children the best next step is heading over to another store just to make sure she hasn't just been ripped off.

At Canadian Tire I found the processors. They had a similar selection, and the exact same one I had just bought for $80 was on sale for $40, down from $100. Do these places not compare their prices with those of the competition? Guess not.

I'm standing there trying to make sure it's the same one, while my kids run up and down the isle opening and closing the doors on microwaves. I could stop them from doing these things but then what would I blog about? I did yell a couple of times. A worker noticed me checking out the special and came over to scan it and see if they had any left in the back. They didn't. She offered to sell me the display model until we noticed it had a crack in it. I went up to the front of the store for a rain check on the model. The clerk informed me that they had some left at the Canadian Tire store on the West side of Winnipeg.

Ever spontaneously spent over an hour in the van with four kids? I bet you'd think the thought would be annoying. It's not. I love driving places with them. They're buckled, they're not fighting, climbing the bathroom sink for water that they spill all over, they sleep, I don't have to chase or get snacks. It's just a little slice of heaven, but it also includes cappuccino and radio. Except for Miss Screechy Baby who doesn't like to be buckled, but I'm sure she'll grow out of it soon. I was kind of looking forward to the drive. I couldn't, after all, just not finish what I was doing with my veggies. They were cooked and ready to go. In fact, it was all still sitting on the counter and in the blender since I was just running out to quickly grab a new food processor.

What? It's not like it was chicken!

I figured that first I should probably return the one I already bought.

Back to Walmart. This is when I got the obvious idea to just have them price match it. I got into line. Jordan helped herself to the payphone, hoping to call her daddy, Mitchell gave his toy car to Ellie who threw it and had it banished to my pocket, with Mitchie whining and begging to have it back, Tennyson bothered Jordan who was then in time out, so he got to sit in time out with her, they needed to be separated so they ended up on different walls, and slid their shoes back and forth to each other while the manager stood there and looked back and forth between Canadian Tire's ad and the processor I had purchased 30 minutes before.

Was it a good morning?

Heck ya! I got a new food processor, had Walmart give me back $44 for my trouble, and fed zucchinis, broccoli, green beans, yellow beans, chard and kale into a green pulp, resisting the urge to yell "Die evil Zucchini - Die!" because the kids were watching in awe at the machine gobbling up more and more food. I didn't realize how happy (and a little crazy) I must have looked until I noticed that the kids were staring at me in wide eyed grinning wonder.

"Mommy got a new toy! This is the best day ever!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah, this is the best day!" they shouted, eagerly helping to toss more produce in the veggie death hole on top of the machine.

I had to do it. My blender died.

little orphan stevie

2011-08-10T08:43:00.004-05:00

I'd be impressed with the over 10,000 page views if I didn't know that probably 8,000 of them are my own. I wonder if there's a way to get my own views uncounted? I bet somebody knows.

I had one of those sleeps last night where . . .

Scratch that. I didn't sleep. The last time I glanced at the clock it was about 4:30, and the kids were crawling into my bed by 7:30. Today will be one of those days where I'm thankful that within the last year or so I suddenly developed a taste for coffee. Not only "developed", but "enjoy!" My first job at 15 was at a restaurant. The smell of coffee was the worst. I even tried to drink it once or twice, with lots of sugar and milk, but I just couldn't force it. It was gross. Drinks that had even a hint of coffee in them - cappuccinos, molkas, etc. disgusted me.

When I was pregnant with Mitchell I took a sip of Steven's cappuccino. It was yummy. It's progressed from there.

I really was going somewhere with all of this.

I'm going to drink half a pot of coffee, and when the kids are loud and screechy and laughey with all their childhood joy this morning, I'm going to remember that it's me. Then I'm going to shoo their screechie selves out the back door. It's supposed to be a nice day today.

We're headed to the park this morning, apparently in about an hour. I haven't showered or fed the kids yet. It might be a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast, and a hat day.

I really did have something interesting to post on here, I'm sure of it. My brain is addled.

Oh, here it is:

I grew up in church. Not in church literally, they frown on squatters in churches, but I grew up going to church. I went to Sunday school, gospel hall on Friday nights and bible camp in the summer. Actually, some of my best childhood memories are of some of the things I partook in because of church.

To be honest, I'm not exactly sure what I believe now. I certainly take issues with some of the things the church teaches, but - I'm going to stop here. If I was actually going to blog about this I'd probably want to write it separately and take a little time. I take practically no time to write posts.

Anyway, let's just say that there are things the church believes that I'll definitely be having discussions with my kids about in the future. At the same time, I do want my kids to have an upbringing like mine, and I want them to have the religious instruction I had.

This week I've signed Jordan and Tennyson up for VBS (vacation bible school). They LOVE it, and any passersby could see why. The leaders are fun, energetic and excited about the stuff they're teaching. The songs are loud, catchy and happy. The messages are geared toward kids, the crafts are cute and fun, and Tennyson will be happy to tell you - he had a snack there. If you know my kid you'll know how important that is.

Then we have Steven. Steven is a self-proclaimed atheist. He doesn't tell me not to take the kids to Sunday School, church fun fairs, or Awana, but he doesn't personally believe. I think he's mildly irked that the kids are being "brainwashed" in church.

You know what doesn't help? When Jordan comes home from VBS and announces that Daddy isn't her daddy anymore.

Huh?

God is her father, not Daddy.

I tried to explain the heavenly father / earthly father thing. She wasn't sold. At church they told her that God is her father, so of course she takes it one step further and renounces Steven as her father.

I'm actually laughing as I write this. It was kind of funny.

Me: Jordan, Daddy is your father. It's kind of like you have two.
J: Nope. God is my father, not Daddy.
Me: Well, then what's Daddy?
J: An orphan.

At this point, I'm trying not to laugh, and Steven's again reiterating that he wishes the kids better understood sarcasm (it's truly lost on them), as it's one of his favorite methods of mocking someone.

As much as we all sometimes wish we were orphans, I'm pretty sure that at this point Steven has 3 parents. Orphan he is not.

I started to get mildly annoyed, because I want the kids to be able to do these fun church things and Steven's not that excited about them, and I don't want him to "forbid it", and Jordan coming home and announcing that he's no longer her father is definitely not helping.