Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
We have a Christmas Eve tradition that was started by my parents. On Christmas Eve the boys, and sometimes me too, get new pajamas. I love it. Like my mom, to me there's not much better than freshly bathed children in new jammies, all cuddly and sweet smelling...... Unless you count waking up Christmas morning to sweet little boys vibrating with excitement in their cute new jammies. That's pretty good too.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
I swear I didn't plan it this way, but "Two" is dumb stuff again this year. Last year it was this awesome ridiculously humongous wreath on the door of one of Glen's mom's condo neighbours. It still makes me laugh like crazy every time I see it. I used to wonder what the owners of that particular condo were thinking when they bought it. I have since discovered that it was purchased by a husband and brought home to his gob-smacked wife who mentioned that she thought maybe it might be a little large, but her concerns were brushed aside. LOL. That makes it even funnier than it was before. That poor woman. Ha ha ha! See? It still makes me laugh.
Something else that still makes me laugh is this:Oh man. Look at that dumb goose. He's so awesome. I've instructed my parents to leave him to me in their will. I'd cry if he ever got lost... Bitter tears of overwhelming grief and loss.
My mom has all these fake birds on her Christmas tree, and one year, because I have a fondness for Canadian geese, I took him and put him on our angel's arm to see how long it would take Mom to notice. It took long. Actually, I'm not sure if she ever noticed or we finally had to tell her. Anyways, for the past five or more years I've put him up there on the angel's arm. Mom fought it for a year or two and kept taking him down, but now it's tradition. When she decorates the tree she puts him on a branch and when I arrive from Yorkton I hunt him down and restore him to his place of glory. GLORY!
He reminds me of our old cat Jynx, all ratty and impudent. He's like, "Ya, I'm up here. What are you going to do about it?" Ha ha ha. I keep scrolling up and looking at that picture and cracking up. It makes me laugh. Hysterically.
I'm an easy sell though. (As I discussed with a friend tonight.) It doesn't take very much to interest/please/amuse me. It really doesn't.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
I promised myself I would only spend an hour working on this tonight. So far I'm only an hour past that. I think it's worth it though:
Thursday, December 20, 2007
I suppose if I was a little less careless about where I leave my sharpies I wouldn't be greeted by this sight when I come back to the computer after being gone for 2 minutes to help Ben go potty:
I also wouldn't be as fond of these things as I am:Seriously. Mr. Clean has saved me more times than Jesus.
(LOL. Sorry. Sorry! I am JUST JOKING. I only put that in there so Shirley would report me to the pastor. I'm hoping my blasphemy will require a home visit, possibly involving pizza and a Life rematch... Except... If you think about it, it only took once for Jesus to save me, and Mr. Clean has saved me at least five times that I can remember.)
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
I love Noah. I miss him. He is definitely one of my favorite things. How could he not be? Look at him! Don't you just want to squish him? (Don't though. He's got some pretty intense personal boundries.) Everyone in our family is a little down in the dumps right now. If you don't read my Dad's cancer blog then you probably don't know that my nephew is sick. The poor little guy has a bad cold with some chest congestion, which is bad enough, but with Dad's immune system the way it is, and with his transplant right around the corner, if Noah isn't better then we won't all get to be together this Christmas. My brother Jonathan, his wife Melissa, and my best nephew Noah won't get to come to our family Christmas.
This sucks. It sucks so bad, I can't even tell you. We need this. We really do. We need to be together. I'm crying just thinking about it, so I can't even imagine what Johnny and Melissa are feeling. It's not exaggerating to say this is heartbreaking.
So we're praying for a miracle. We're praying that Noah gets over his cold in time for Christmas and that Johnny and Melissa don't catch it from him. Will you pray with us?
UPDATE: Melissa has added Noah Watch to her site for status updates.
Check it out here.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Yup. There are days, lots of days, when life sucks. It's hard. Sometimes it feels like there's no rhyme or reason to it, like you're just spinning a wheel and things happen to you randomly. Who gets kids, who doesn't? Who gets sick, who doesn't? It seems like no matter how well you plan, something always happens to mess those plans up, and the minute you start getting ahead you're hit with college fees and suddenly you're $200 000.00 down.
But you know what? When you have people you love by your side it makes it so much better. I think God gives us people like that to let us know He's there too.
I'm glad I'm not driving down this road called life all by myself.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Christmas. That blessed time of year when we celebrate the birth of Christ, God's gift of salvation... By eating chocolate and lots of it. Is Jesus really the reason for the season? Or is it Lindtt? I have to tell you. It's a tough one. Lindtt gets me pretty ding danged close to heaven. Any closer and I might have to declare it a tie.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
I love sleeping Ben. Not because it gives me a break, or because it usually means it's the end of my day, although those are both good reasons. I love sleeping Ben because he is just so darn cute...Here he is almost hanging off of my bed. Slightly scary, but still cute. Don't worry. I moved him right after I took his picture...Here he is crashed after preschool. He doesn't usually nap anymore, but on preschool days he always needs a little sleep after he gets home. It usually happens fairly spontaneously...Whoops. I woke him up trying to take his picture...
Don't worry though.
He was out again fairly quickly...
And I moved him somewhere a little more comfy after I took his picture.
You know what else? He still laughs in his sleep. His very first laugh was while he was sleeping when he was around two months old. He still does it, usually in the morning about an hour before he wakes up. I always wonder what he is dreaming about because he doesn't just snigger a little. He laughs hysterically for about a minute at a time, and I'm telling you... It is the cutest thing EVER. I love sleeping Ben. I'm gonna go watch him for a while since he's sleeping right now.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Some of you may know this already because you are forced to play endless games with me, but I am addicted to Scrabulous. I can't get enough. As if my facebook addiction wasn't already out of control, I usually have somewhere around ten games going at all times. I always save them till last too. When I get on facebook I check my wall and messages, and then usually read my news feed, then I cruise through some pictures, and THEN it's time for Scrabulous. Here's a game in which I tooled all over my poor mom. Which was sad, because I think she used the cheat-o-matic the whole game and I quit using it halfway through.
I used to be all about the cheat-o-matic. There's a warning at the top of the page that states, "Please don't use the Scrabble cheat-o-matic for normal gameplay, unless you are really stuck. You will find scrabble much more satisfying if you rely on your own wit." I laughed when I first read that. I would never consider relying on my own wit in real life. Why would I do it for scrabble. Eventually though, I realized that my time playing Scrabulous was drastically cut down by the cheat-o-matic. Which, obviously, was not a positive thing.
And, it turns out, it actually is more satisfying to rely on your own wit. Or at least your own perseverance. You see, the thing I love best about Scrabulous is that you can't screw up. You can't spell a word wrong, you can't put down a word that isn't a word. (Like "turdy". Turns out turdy is not a word. Who knew?) It's fab. The game won't let you play your tiles till you've put down a word that is actually a word. I'm really not thinking at all when I'm playing, just throwing things onto the board, and clicking "play word" till I've managed to come up with something that works. It's so sweet.
I hate real Scrabble. I don't know very many two-letter words, which anyone who plays scrabble knows is essential. That doesn't matter on Scrabulous though. Two letter words are the cinchiest of all. 'Cause they're only two letters! In addition to just being a good old scrabbling time, there's a little box for chatting (and/or mocking) that takes the game from fun to fab.
Lately, I've been thinking about trying out the Family Feud link in the advertisement above my board, but I'm betting that will take away from my time playing Scrabulous. And, obviously, that would not be a positive thing. Actually, this blog is taking away my time playing Scrabulous. Right at this moment Mary K., Christine B., and Rebekah B. are all waiting for me to take my turn. So... See ya!
(The call of Scrabulous. Never underestimate it's power.)
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Well people. It's that time of year again. Time for me to count my blessings... Backwards from twelve. So let's get started with a really Christmassy one:
Twelve: When things go exactly as I want them to.
(This one should really be saved for the number one position, but it's way too much work to make this list anything other than "in no particular order".)
Oh my word, I really do love it when things turn out just how I imagined they would.
The other night we decorated our tree. It was fabulous. Glen video taped, I took some cute pictures, and the boys were adorable x10. There was no fighting or crying or whining. Ben worked so hard to put up the beads and garland and they all ended up in one conglomerated (Don't you love that word?) mess at the bottom of the tree. We broke some ornaments I bought from a garage sale, but they weren't my favorites anyways, so I didn't care. Sammy tried to eat some ornaments, but managed to get a few up on the tree all on his own. (Yes, they were covered in drool, but drool dries.) Ben kept saying things like "Oooooo! This tree is bootiful! We're desherating the tree right? These are beautiful desherarations."
Afterwards we popped some popcorn. Sam was very excited, which, if you know Sam at all, is pretty much his constant state. He danced around the kitchen screaming "Puhcorn! Puhcorn!" Ben got to open his new container of nacho seasoning, or as he calls it, "The cheesy." He put the cheesy on the popcorn himself, and Sam helped me mix it up. Then the boys sat in the living room and ate their popcorn with spoons, because that's the way civilized people do it.
It was perfect... Perfect family bliss. It doesn't happen often, but when it does it's hard not to want to freeze the moment and live in it forever. And not just because it's fun, and it gives you warm fuzzies, but because it means you experienced the hoy of fulfilled expectations.
I hate when my expectations are too high and I end up feeling like I got jipped. This happens to me all the time since I have very high expectations. As a result I tend to feel let down on a regular basis. Like my grad. And Benjamin's birth. That was a bit of a let down. (Not because of Ben. Ben has exceeded my expectations a thousand times over from the moment I fist met him. The trouble was I first met him hours after he had been born since I was unconscious when he took his first breaths, and cried his first cries.)
I hate being let down. I wonder if this is why I
tend to be am a control freak. Somehow I've got it in my head that most everything requires my constant attention and direction in order to meet my expectations. The funny thing is... The more I let go, the more I find things going just the way I want them to. Weird.
Anyways. Here are some pictures of an evening that turned out just the way I hoped it would. Don't ask why Sam has a hammer. He just does. Look at the pictures and enjoy the pretty music.
Argh! There are supposed to be five more pictures and four more seconds on this thing! I have no idea what's up with animoto tonight, but I give up. (For now.) I've already remixed this thing five times. Grrr. Maybe I can fix it tomorrow.
Why don't things ever go the way I want them to? ;)
Monday, December 10, 2007
You have no idea how fabulous my basement smells! Mmm. Partylite goodness.
Everyone's candle orders are all ready to be delivered... There were only a couple mix-ups for me to straighten out. For instance, I'm not sure who ordered this:
It doesn't show up on my invoice anywhere. I'll have to check over everyone's orders, and hopefully I'll figure it out. Till then I'm putting it in my living room. I think it looks nice with my Christmas decorations.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Many years ago I stepped out of my comfort zone into a world of strangers and new experiences and spent my first summer working at Redberry Bible Camp. You have no idea how many times I've thanked God that I took that step into the unknown. Today is one of those times.
Today I'm thinking about Value Village and Sherbet. I'm thinking about nachos made with moldy cheese and buying bags of bread to feed (or huck at) geese. I'm thinking about fights in campsites and early morning swimming lessons. I'm thinking about long talks and walks on the beach. I'm thinking about waiting in the rain for an evil plot to come to fruition. I'm thinking about Little Buddies and Big Buddies and cruising Regina in a rickety truck with sports socks pulled up to our knees. I'm thinking about Angerama Comin' Atcha. All day the memories have been flitting through my mind.
We met at camp in 1993. I can't believe it was that long ago. I think I loved her from the moment she walked into the dining hall with her hoop earings and huge smile, and I've been smitten with her ever since. There was just something about being with Ang. She wasn't like anyone I had ever met before, and I'm still waiting to meet someone else who even comes close. I'm not sure that's even possible. She's one of a kind, in so many ways.
Our friendship started with laughter. Our idea of a good time used to be to publicly embarrass ourselves as much as possible. I wonder if I would still have the nerve to do any of the things we came up with in our giddiest moments. We don't do crazy things any more. Not really. We're boring stay-at-home moms, but somehow when Ang does it she makes it just as joyful and thrilling.
We've changed a lot, but the way I feel about Ang hasn't changed even a little. Unless it's that I love her more. When we talk together I still know I could tell her anything. I can look into her eyes and see acceptance and understanding. It doesn't matter that we don't spend every day together like we did at camp. When I hear her voice I'm right back there whispering in chapel about my latest crush, or plans for a late night rendezvous with a container of ice cream. Our hearts know each other and they always will. That's why a part of my heart that will always belong only to Angerama.
She has taught me so many things about friendship and fun and God. Ang is so in love with Jesus that she almost seems to vibrate with the joy of her salvation. She makes me want to be closer to God than I am. She makes me want to embrace life and live it with joy and passion. She just fills me up with happiness.
I'm so thankful that God brought her into my life and that He has allowed us to stay friends all these years. So happy birthday ya dumb cluck. I'm so glad you were born and that you're here in this world. I love you.
Friday, December 07, 2007
I'm home. I wish I wasn't though. I don't think I can tell you how hard it is to leave Dad when he's in the hospital, so I'll tell you something else.
On the drive home today I thought about a great question my mom asked on her blog: "If you could go back to your childhood for one day, what would you do?"
I thought about Stabler Point and walking the path to the beach in the mornings with my brothers and sister all in a line with our towels over our heads pretending to be monks. I thought about playing Barbies with Sheila Friesen and fighting over which Barbie got to be Ken's girfriend. I thought about dressing up Sweetums our cat in my doll clothes, and then a few years later doing the same thing to Jynx. I thought about my favorite teachers and field trips to the Forestry Farm. I thought about afternoons at Gramma and Grampa's with all of my cousins and enough food to feed a small country. I thought about the summer I slept every night in the playhouse and swam every day in the pool in our backyard with my friends. I thought about winters spent digging tunnels in snowdrifts and sliding down hills in garbage bags. I thought about walking to school with my Ido Dido under my arm. I thought about throwing out my peas when Mom and Dad weren't looking and sneaking out of bed to watch Night Court from the hallway. I thought about exploring the gravel pits with Trevor Hopkins, Danielle Stradecke, Jeff Van De Voorde, and Meatbone. I thought about days at the beach learning to swim with my mom and taking turns being dragged around the lake by my dad on a tube behind our awesome brown boat. I thought about Christmas mornings and cartoons on Saturdays, sleepovers and air bands, long rides in the camper and popsicles made with a cup of tang and a spoon for a stick.
I wouldn't do any of that though.
If I could go back to my childhood for one day I'd go back to a day when I was still little enough to be at home with my mom all day. In the morning I would sit on her lap holding hair elastics in my hand while she brushed out my tangles. Then she'd scrape my hair into pigtails that stood almost straight up because it was still really too short for an updo. We wouldn't care though. I'd play with my toys for a while till I got bored and then I'd follow Mom around till she got sick of having me underfoot and put me back on her lap for a story, or maybe she'd play dolls with me. In the afternoon she'd put me in my bed for a nap and I'd give her a big wet kiss right on the mouth that she'd have to wipe off once she got out into the hall. After my nap I'd go outside and pick some flowers from her flower garden for her. When Dad got home from work he'd give me a hug and a whisker rub, then he'd put me into his overalls and walk around the house with me, or maybe I'd stand on his feet and we'd dance while he sang Did You Ever See a Lassie? While Mom worked on supper he'd wrestle with all of us in the living room till Johnny would get carried away and kick me in the head. I'd cry, and Dad would pick me up and kiss it better. I'd milk it for all it was worth so Mom would have to kiss it too, and maybe she'd put me up on the counter for a while with some juice and I could watch her putting supper on the table. After supper we'd have a bath and soak Dad with our splashing. We'd get dressed in our jammies and Dad would wrestle with us some more while Mom yelled at him to "Stop winding the kids up before bed!" They'd read me a story and tuck me into bed, but I'd get up four or five times stalling for water and missing dolls and whatever else I could think of. After I finally fell asleep to the sound of Mom and Dad talking, Mom would come into my room and fix the blankets I had kicked off. Then she'd stroke the hair that had fallen out of my pigtails from my face and give me one last goodnight kiss.
That's what I'd do.
I love remembering my childhood. I have lots of really great memories of growing up and they're mine to keep, but I wish I could remember all of it. So if I could live a day over again, I'd choose a day that would add to my collection.
I wish I could remember some of those ordinary moments when I was my Mom and Dad's little girl and nothing else. I wish I could remember what it was like to be so small and secure in the tiny little world I existed in. Way back when my mom made my decisions and my dad was a superhero. Before responsibilities, and mortgages, and long drives that take you away from people you love, and way before cancer.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
You know how I always say I have nothing to say and then I talk for a really long time? I'm going to do it again. Sort of. I'm completely at a loss tonight. Really. So you're getting a post made up of anything I can scrape together.
- I had a massage again today. Last time I went the girl could barely touch me because I was so sore. I think it was pretty much a waste of time. Today I wasn't as sore and things went better. I feel fab. I wish I could go for a massage every day of my life.
- I got to order free stuff from my PartyLite party. I'm VERY excited. Aunty Susan was wondering what I got. So just for her (and my mom) :
- Glen wrote a comment about my last post. I thought it was hysterically funny and I wouldn't want any of you to miss it so here it is:
"Here's a rough approximation from last night in the tub:
[We hear Sammy crying in the bathroom. Glen enters.]
Glen: Ben, did you pour water on Sammy's head?
Ben: No. I didn't. Little Doodey ... Little Doodey putted water on Sammy's head ... But I'm not Little Doodey, okay Daddy?
Glen: Ok. But I have to take away your bath cups now.
Ben: But I didn't pour water on Sammy, Little Doodey did.
Glen: Yes, but even if Little Doodey pours water on Sammy, I still have to take all the bath cups--
Ben [interrupting]: But, I'm not Little Doodey, Daddy! See? [Ben extends his index finger] Here's Little Doodey! [Ben makes his index finger wiggle like a little worm]
Glen: I see... [not quite sure what to make of the sudden incarnation of Ben's imaginary character]
Ben: Here's Little Doodey right here! [Ben wiggles his finger some more]
Glen: It wasn't nice of Little Doodey to put water on Sammy's head. Sammy doesn't like that. That makes Sammy cry.
Ben [thinking for a moment]: He should say sorry. That would make it better. [putting his face close to his finger] You say sorry to Sammy, ok?
[Ben puts his finger on Sam's check and begins to wiggle his finger a little.]
Ben [high-pitch, raspy, whisper]: Sorry!
Ben [normal voice, speaking to finger]: There! That's better! It's ok now. [to Glen] Now can I have my bath cups back?"
- No one has sent me any Christmas ornaments for my tree yet. What gives?
- Anyone that has TWO immunity idols and STILL manages to get voted off of Survivor deserves exactly what he gets.
- My ebay Christmas shopping has started arriving. I love this part of ebay. Not only do I get to shop victoriously, but now I get presents in the mail! Hurrah!
- Dad wrote a pretty funny/awesome comment on my post about hurdles. I wouldn't want everyone to miss it, so here it is:
"Try this Becky. Walk right into it and knock the dam thing over. Then it is gone and you can truly forget about it."
My dad rocks.
- I'm going to Saskatoon tomorrow. We can't stay with my parents because Dad will be nuetropenic and the boys are still getting over colds. I don't know if I'm even going to get to see them. I'm not happy. But what can you do? Sometimes life is really sucky.
- Since I won't be staying with them, and the place I'm staying has no computer access, it's a good thing tomorrow is my last day of NaBloPoMo. Phew.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Someone named Little Dudey has been sneaking into the bath with Ben and Sam. Glen and I have never seen him, but over the last week we've been advised of his presence, and his behavior. Ben assures us that Little Dudey is the one who has been pouring water on Sam and stealing his bath toys. We suspect that Little Dudey has been doing this for a very long time and unfortunately, since Glen and I have never actually seen him, we blamed Ben for tormenting poor Sam. It's an important discovery that answers many questions.
The only question left unanswered is, how do we convince Little Doodey to behave himself in the bath if we never actually get to speak with him? It's a conundrum.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
It's that time of year again! Christmas has come to alittlestone! Yay!
I've got the tree up over here again. I put up your ornaments from last year, but there's still LOTS of room for more! So send me a photo of your favorite ornament, or anything you'd like really, and I'll put it on the tree.
Trav suggested last year that I put up a running list of whose ornaments are whose, so I'll put that list in the comments on the tree page just for him. Someone else suggested that I make it so that when you click on each photo you could get a zoom in view. I think that's a fab idea, but since I only have a hazy idea of how I would go about that, it'll have to wait till next year. Hey! Don't complain! You're getting your list aren't you? (Fine. Because it's for Christmas, I'll ask Glen if he can help me, but don't hold your breath. We're not that smart. For now, I'll just make the tree a lot bigger than it was last year.)
Monday, November 26, 2007
I'll tell you something that I've recently discovered about myself. I'm tired of drama over dumb things. I say, if you don't like it, change it, ditch it, or shut up. Simple.
Lately I find myself going with the ditch it option a lot more than I used to. I just find myself thinking, "It's not worth it, so forget it" more than I ever have before. I'm not sure if this is growth or decline. In some ways, I think it's great. For practical purposes, I've found myself feeling less stressed, less angry, and with a lot more time on my hands. In theory though, it means that I am prepared to give up on my ideals and desires if a hurdle is placed in my path.
The starting gun is fired, I start to run, I see the hurdle. Maybe I jump one, or even two hurdles, and then when the third one springs up in front of me I shrug my shoulders and walk off the track to get myself a nice iced tea and maybe some Spitz... And leave the jumping and sweating to the people who either care more than me, or just can't stand to see anyone finish before them.
Possibly good. Possibly not. But I find myself unconcerned. This could change, but right now I'm good with sitting on the sidelines watching all the crazies run by all hopped up on the importance of... Whatever it happens to be that day.
Don't worry though, I don't think this extends to all areas of my life. Just the dumb ones.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
One of my all time favorite movie moments:
I literally LOL every time I see this. When I first noticed it, it was even better. Things are always funnier when you think you're the only one who saw it. It makes you feel so special. Enjoy.
Friday, November 23, 2007
- Memories of eating all of my candy the first week and being left with only the gross stuff like raisins and licorice.
- Eating all of the gross stuff the next week and being left with only Halloween kisses. (Heh heh. Cause those things are grosser than gross.)
- Eating all of the Halloween kisses the next week and being left with only one other option: To raid your hording sister's bowl which has barely been touched since she spent her first evening sorting and counting it.
(Yes, I have considered the possibility that this candy is from the 1980's. Why do you think it's still here? I'm still the same treat-scrounging scavenger, just circling the carnage... Looking for a straggler.)
Thursday, November 22, 2007
I've come this far. I can't stop now.
I would today though. I'm really not in the mood to post. My original plans for a post today are being postponed because I'm sick. If I wasn't doing NaBloPoMo I wouldn't post at all, but I am. So I will. Unfortunately for you that means you are about to hear about my day, since I am not in the mood to be fun, funny, or creative. I'm also not in the mood to be thoughtful, interesting, or insightful. In fact, if I were you I'd find something else to do and tune in tomorrow when, hopefully, I'll be back to my old, amazingly entertaining, self.
I'm sick. I feel like poopy-ca-ca. Literally. Plus I can't stop sneezing, which I actually usually enjoy. (Does anyone else think there's not much better than a good sneeze?) I'm not enjoying it today, because my back hurts. A frickin' lot. And sneezing hurts a frickin' froinkin' lot. And I can't find the ColdFX I bought last month anywhere.
Plus my house is still not clean. We've been on a cleaning schedule for over a week now to get ready for a party thingy I'm having at my house this Saturday. Since I am now sick we are a day behind schedule and I'm starting to think the house may not make it to the Martha Stewart level I was shooting for. Tomorrow I have to bake and put up the Christmas tree, as originally scheduled, but now I also have to finish folding and putting away all the laundry, clean and dust the living room and kitchen, plus vacuum and wash all the floors, and wipe down all our cupboards and walls from the waist down to get rid of the toddler food and booger residue.
In addition to all this I am a little stressed. Today I took part in a semi-stressful work-related meeting. And I'm doing my best to deal with some weekend plan changes that caught me off-guard and have required some pretty fancy footwork and a little bit of begging on my part. And I'm unusually busy this weekend. I'm never busy. But this weekend I am. A practice, a party, a parade, a performance, and a potluck. And then there's the purely-for-fun stuff I had intended to do... A lunch out with some girlfriends, the Grey Cup, and a Birthday dinner. (Oh crap. I just realized I didn't get the Birthday girl a present. She's getting a gift certificate and I don't want to hear a word about it. Well, scratch that. I want to hear six words: "Thanks so much! I love it!")
I lost my train of thought. Amy just called. She's staying over tomorrow night. LOL. I told her I could promise her clean sheets and not much else. I'm planning on making Beefaroni or maybe Zoodles for supper. She seems okay with that. Poor Amy.
That's honestly the best I can do for a post for today. A whole lot of whining along with just a little complaining. If you've made it to the end of this post you must be a true friend which means you won't let me down and you'll pretend you feel sorry for me.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Oh man. I don't think mail has thrilled me this much since... Well, ever! Glen had them mixed up in the junk mail. Can you believe that?
Anyways. I'm excited. We have rockin' seats. In fact, we're so close that I'm planning on wearing flame retardant clothing just to be on the safe side. (Pyrotechnics are a pretty integral component of this show.) EEEEEEEEE! Just thinking about it makes me want to run around the basement in circles squealing like a little girl at her first slumber party. (Hey Jen, do you remember one time when came to a slumber party at your house? I think it was in grade six. You rented Gremlins and I was so scared I made you leave the lights on. I wonder why you never invited me again... ?)
I am having a problem that the arrival of the tickets has only exacerbated. I can't stop thinking about going. I can't stop singing the songs or trying to remember which scene was my favorite the last time I saw it. This wouldn't be a problem at all if the show wasn't in May. MAY!!! How am I going to wait? This is KILLING me. I want to go tomorrow. I have the tickets... I could.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
I have something to show you, but before you see it you need to know two things:
- I have a really sore back right now. Bending over is quite painful.
- We have a lot of toys in our basement.
- My boys are incredibly skilled when it comes to scattering toys from, literally, one corner of our basement to the other.
- I'm brilliant!
Genius! I'm telling you, this is going to change my life!
Monday, November 19, 2007
High expectations. We all have them. Sometimes they spur us on to do great things and be great people. And sometimes... They are crippling.
I saw a show on Oprah a long time ago about new moms and their expectations for motherhood. So many of them expected being a perfect mom to come easily. They expected to hold their baby for the first time and love it more than their own lives. They expected to take that baby home and feel fulfilled more than they ever had before. They expected days filled with tickling and playing, coloring and storybooks. The truth was, they didn't. The truth is, while I've heard that this happens to some people, I don't know any.
And yet, I still find myself surprised when I hear moms confess to feeling overwhelmed, stifled, frustrated, and like failures. I'm surprised when I find out people who I think are amazing moms yell at their kids sometimes and would rather spend an hour reading a book with a bag of chips than playing blocks with their two-year-old. It's not supposed to be like that right? There must be something wrong with us right?
Dixie wrote a great post the other day about needing a break, even from things we really like. It freed something up in me. To me it said, among other things, maybe there isn't something wrong with you. Maybe even good moms don't constantly long for more time with their most precious treasures. Because, I assure you, Ben and Sam are my post precious treasures. They are taking up so much of my heart that it's getting crowded and they're renting storage space in my brain. (This explains my lack of focus, my shrinking vocabulary, and my tendency to misplace my hairbrush at least twice a day.) I am constantly telling myself, "When the boys are teenagers you'll wish with everything in you that you could spend a day with them as toddlers, and it wouldn't be a day where you sit on the couch watching Survivor while they play." But the fact is, right now I see them every day, I play with them every day, and you really can have too much of a good thing. I don't know why I never thought of that before.
It also got me thinking about openness. There are so many of us moms who lie or just don't say anything about what our daily lives are really like. We're afraid we're the only ones who blow it. We think all the other moms are doing better than we are. And so we propagate the myths of motherhood that make us feel like we don't have what it takes to be a good mom. For that reason I'm going to tell you a story...
I had a bad day a few weeks ago. Ben was refusing to eat anything for breakfast but "tricker treats". Sam was grouchy because he had a cold and he was teething. They were both irritating each other and me constantly with their pushing and whining and... It was a bad day.
Now, one of my failings as a mother has got to be that I let my boys run their lives a little more than they should. Ben goes to bed when he's tired, dictates what he should eat for lunch, and still drinks a bottle because I am too lazy to make him do otherwise. That day I decided he would eat what I gave him for breakfast, or he would eat nothing. He sat in front of his container of yogurt whining and crying for half an hour while I got more and more frustrated. Finally, I told him he didn't have to eat it, but he wouldn't get anything else till he did. (Not even a mustard sandwich.)
Off he went on his whiny little way. Sigh.
Then he had to poop. Ben does not poop on the potty yet. He has had some constipation issues, that have led to some incredibly painful poops, and a deep mistrust of pooping on the potty. That day though, I was in a funk and decided if he wouldn't eat his yogurt, he would poop on the potty. In hindsight I have no idea what I was thinking. All I can say is, I was mad, and determined that he would do one thing that day just because I said so.
So I put him on the potty and he sat there and cried for another half hour. Bear in mind, I am getting madder and madder and I am not doing any of this in a nice, encouraging, manner. Really, I'm just being mean to show him who's boss. Finally, he manages to squeeze out the tiniest little poop in history and I let him off the potty. But I'm still not happy. And Sam is screaming because he got locked out of the bathroom where Ben had been sitting.
Ben is starting to get really upset by my behavior at this point and says to me, "Mummy, don't be mad okay? I'll be good!" Now, any reasonable human being's heart would melt at this point and find a place of calmness and kindness, but not mine. I tell him, "You're not being good, you're being bad! You have to listen to Mommy!" After a little bit more of this conversation, in which Ben says more than once, "I'll listen! I'll listen to you Mommy!" poor little Ben goes in the kitchen and eats his yogurt, crying brokenheartedly the whole time. He tells me, "You're scary Mommy! You're scaring me!"
Finally, that gets to me. I go into my room and manage to calm myself down. I pick him up and apologize. I tell him I love him and that he's not bad and that Mommy is very sorry and that she shouldn't have got so mad at him. And my precious little Ben cries on my shoulder and tells me it's okay.
That is not the kind of mom I want to be. I don't want to be the kind of mom who takes out her frustration on her children. I don't want to be the kind of mom who engages in a power struggle over pooping because she's mad about yogurt. I don't want to be the kind of mom who scares her children. But sometimes I am. Not very often, but often enough to feel like a failure.
So what do I do? Give up? Beat myself over the head over the times I have let myself and my boys down? I could I guess, but I don't think it would do much good. I think the best I can do is tell my child I'm sorry, tell God I'm sorry, try to forgive myself, and do better next time. Obviously not in a blithe, offhand, "Sorry buddy" kind of way. I need to remember how I felt after I was mean to Ben when I feel my temperature rising. It's selfish to allow myself to vent my anger on him (or Sam), and my boys deserve much better.
I can't allow that thought to overwhelm me though. I can't let it hold me back, I need to let it be a goal instead of a reprimand. It doesn't mean I shouldn't be their mom. It doesn't negate all the good things about me. It just means I'm a mom like many others, and while my expectations are high, the reality is sometimes I screw up. The reality is, my boys do deserve better and I can give it to them. Not all by myself though. I'm learning that just like in any endeavor, being a mom requires that I lean on strength outside of my own, because I'm not that strong. Thankfully, I have friends and family and God to encourage me, to give me breaks, to be there when I need them. 'Cause this Mommy gig is not always what it's cracked up to be. But nothing ever is, is it?
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
I used to eat soap. When I was a little girl Mom had to hide it or I'd find it and come out of the bathroom frothing at the mouth.
Yesterday I found a bar of soap on lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. Someone must have taken it from one of the bathroom drawers.
It had bite marks in it.
It's good to know that someday I will have someone to share my love of Thrills gum with. (Yum. Soapy goodness.)
Friday, November 16, 2007
She just called from Springside.
"How much farther is it from Springside?"
LOL. Fifteen minutes Ang.
This weekend will probably be the greatest test to my nablopomo commitment. We have a lot of faithfully taped ANTM and Beauty and the Geek to get through. Not to mention a pretty hot date lined up with our favorite hussy. I don't know how I'm going to fit posting into our jam packed schedule of television and sitting around.
And.... Wait for it....
She's here! Hurrah!
Hi. I'm Becky and I'm an ebay-oholic.
A few days ago Glen and I were talking about the new ebay ads on TV. He thinks it takes pretty nervy and/or impressive marketing to persuade people that shopping on ebay is like winning something, as opposed to just... Shopping. And paying.
I told him he just didn't get it. It is like winning.
Case in point: I have been looking ALL OVER for this Shake 'n' Go racetrack that my Gramma got Noah last Christmas. I have only been able to find the new version, in which the cars crash up and pieces go flying everywhere. Not really suitable for little Sammy. I'm pretty much convinced it is not for sale in any store in Saskatchewan. I had even begun to despair of ever getting my hands on the perfect gift for my boys, when it occurred to me... Ebay! Of course!
So I ran a quick search, and found some! Hurrah! The feeling of winning rushed over me as I looked through all of the auctions till I found a nice low price from the perfect seller who had four, count them, FOUR racetracks up for sale AND she lives in Manitoba so shipping fees were reasonable. Plus no duty. Yesssssssssss.
Here comes the tricky part: Two of the racetracks were auctions, one of them was buy it now, the other was buy it now or best offer. Which to pick? Auctions take time and a little bit of skill and concentration if you want to ensure a win at the lowest possible price. It's important to be there to get your best bid in at the very last second so no one has a chance to reconsider their highest bid and bid again. Plus, that way you can't be tempted by the frenzied rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins to raise your own highest bid. On the other hand, the buy it now price was over $10.00 higher than the current highest bid. What. To. Do.
I bought it now. I reasoned that probably I would have only saved around $5.00 by bidding in the auction once it was all over but the crying. Add this to my intense need to just get it done with no painful second by second countdown, or frenzied rush and the decision was made. So I bought it, paid for it, and enjoyed the sensation of winning again. Mission accomplished! Hurrah!See that? That's me, fizzbit47. I'm listed as the buyer, but it should really say winner. Because I am.
Today I went back on ebay to shop for some winter boots for Ben and noticed the other three racetracks I had put on my watch list in myebay. They were all sold. Here's one of them:See that? mbrook1978 is listed as the winning bidder, but he's not really. Poor fool. Poor, poor, not-so-victorious fool. He thought he'd save a few bucks with the auction option and instead paid over $10.00 more than I did. So did birdmaureen. And klweipert01.
Oh man. I don't think I can express to you the sense of victory that comes with looking back and knowing you made the right choice. The best choice. The victorious choice. Heh heh.
If you haven't noticed, ebay really appeals to my competitive nature. Oh ebay. How I love you.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I'm kind of loving this posting every day thing. There's something about it that makes me feel free. Which is not what I expected. I expected to feel kind of oppressed by the knowledge that I had to think of something to say every single day for a month.
When I was younger I played the flute. I loved it. I practiced for endless hours every day without fail, without being pushed, and with enthusiasm. And then I stopped. It started to be required instead of something inspired.(That rhyme was for Carrie.) I was taking private lessons and I had to practice for at least an hour every day. So I stopped wanting to, which was weird since I had no problem practicing for 3 hours a day before that. Once it became compulsory, it lost it's fun.
I was a little worried that would happen if I was forced (even if it's just me doing the forcing) to write something. But it hasn't. I know it's still early on, but I really like knowing I will post something every day. It probably has something to do with the fact that I like to talk and this just gives me an excuse to talk as much as I like.
Something else occurs to me though. It occurs to me that with my flute there was a goal: Improvement, and lots of it. Here? No goal. Just a whole lot of me saying stuff. You poor, poor, readers. You're the ones who deserve any prize I win. But you won't get it, I will. Suckas.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
I saw this news item online tonight. It's about an art auction at Christie's. Now, in general, I love art. All of it. Even the weird stuff that makes no sense is beautiful on some level. And I can sit and stare at it and find meaning in it. Even if the only meaning is the beauty of simplicity. That's okay. I get it.
What I don't get is how anyone could pay 34.4 million dollars for "simplicity".
I. Don't. Get. It. You like it? Go get someone to make you one just like it and save yourself enough money to buy a kick a** house and an island to put it on. Then hang it over your fireplace, pour a nice glass of wine, and toast yourself for being smarter than the dummy that paid 34.3 million.
But that's just me.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Alka seltzer has these new commercials with this woman swimming around in bubbly water. I think she's in clothes, but it may have been a swimsuit. I can't remember. Either way, this ad makes no sense to me. Cold medicine commercials are supposed to have things like warm fires and soothing vapors. If I have a cold the last thing I would consider doing is swimming around in bubbly water in my clothes. Brrrrrr. Completely unappealing. Too bad I hadn't been a member of that focus group.
What's with starting shows at 7:02, and 7:32? And I don't mean just starting them late, I mean actually scheduling them to start at 2 minutes past. It's stupid, it's irritating, and all it does it make me miss the beginning of things I want to watch because, like an idiot, I assume they'll start at a time that isn't retarded.
Dancing with the Stars... Just makes me happy. I literally LOL through that whole show. Sometimes I bounce on the couch and clap too. Oh, I love it. For so many reasons.
I saw this commercial for these vacuum sealing freezer bags. Not the infomercial ones that cost three low payments of $19.95, but something you can just buy in the grocery store for cheap. I want them. Sadly, I totally can't remember the brand name or anything. I expect I will see them in Superstore sometime and buy them, but now I can't post a snazzy picture of them on here, which is disappointing. Sigh.
Tonight: Beauty and the Geek. Hurrah! (Maybe I'll see that freezer bag commercial again! I can only dream...) Ahhh TV. I love it so.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Some people in my life have indicated that it is getting difficult to keep up with all these posts. For that reason, today's post will be super short. Just one quick Ben story:
We decided to go out for Chinese food last night. As we were driving to the restaurant, Ben was pretty excited to go to the "restaurant store" and asked us questions like, "What are you guys going to get?" along the way. We passed by McDonald's on the way and still managed to convince Ben that noodles would be okay for supper. Or at least we thought we'd convinced Ben. As we were being seated by our waitress Ben yells out, "BUT I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO MCDONALD'S!" Poor little guy. The whole restaurant was laughing and he was crying, until the waitress told us they served fries. Then everything was good. (He ended up eating more noodles than fries. Ha ha ha.)
Since I have all this spare time leftover now that I'm not writing a big post on here, I'll try to update Ben and Sam's blogs, which have been sadly neglected over the last while.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Since I have now completely ran out of things to post about, and since my emergency list is empty, I've resorted to looking through my list of old posts for any ideas that got left as unpublished drafts. The only problem with this idea is that I left most of these posts because I never quite managed to bring them together into some kind of cohesive whole, so actually it might be less work to think of something new.
It might be. But then again, it might not. So here's something I heard about a while ago and have been irritated by ever since...
Have you ever heard of that TLC show, Shalom in the Home? I've watched five minute segments on occasion, but never a whole episode. I wouldn't have even watched that much if I'd had any idea that the Rabbi on that show is about the last person I'd want to take marriage advice from.
Get this: The guy claims women are basically cheating on their husbands when they nurse their babies. Sounds crazy right? Sounds like a joke? Here's some of what he says:
"Obviously, breast-feeding is not the same as carrying on an extramarital affair. But when a mother gives her breasts to her son and takes them away from her husband, the effect on the marriage can feel the same...
Furthermore, a breastfeeding mother should cover up, even in front of their own husbands, lest she turn her most attractive body parts into a feeding station, an attractive cafeteria rather than a scintillating piece of flesh... If breastfeeding causes the husband to lose his erotic feelings for his scintillating piece of flesh, the wife should switch to the bottle."
Rabbi Shmuley claims that even though studies have shown the benefits of breastfeeding, a nursing mother will be so exhausted by the demands of her newborn that "... the child will probably end up worse off, however many colds or bouts with diarrhea he now avoids."
(This is the part of my post where I show extreme self-restraint by withholding all of the derogatory names I want to shout at this man.)
What kind of husband looks at his wife as either a cafeteria or a scintillating piece of flesh? There's no other choice? How about a human being with feelings and desires of her own? How about a miraculous creation of God?
Boobs keep a marriage together? I've got news for you buddy, if you can't make love to your wife because you don't get the same access to her breasts that you used to, you've got bigger problems than breastfeeding and exhaustion on your hands. In many countries a woman's breasts are not sexualized at all. They are for feeding babies. That's it. And yet, the men in these countries seem to manage just fine.
I suppose we women must make sure to look hot at all times if we expect our husbands to want to make love to us. No fatties or mastectomies allowed either. Because we've got nothing better to worry about than whether our men think our boobs are nice. Forget about relaxing around the man you've chosen to share your life with. Forget about sharing one of the most magical experiences of motherhood with the person you love. Either don't nurse, or keep 'em covered. Grrrrrrrr. What a superficial, selfish, sexist, pig. (Sorry. That slipped out. Self restraint Becky.)
And never mind the benefits to your child ladies. Never mind that this is the way GOD DESIGNED YOU! Just be sure to focus all your attention on whether or not your man thinks you have a hot body... The body that sheltered and nurtured his baby for nine months, the body that was wracked by excruciating pain to bring that child into the world, the body that feeds, cleans, holds, rocks, and comforts a baby like no other can. Never mind all that. What's really important is, does it turn on your husband?
Maybe, if his wife is so exhausted he could get off his duff and do some laundry or diapering to lighten her load a little. I never found the actual feeding to be exhausting, it was all the stuff I did in between. The sitting around feeding a baby bit was actually the most relaxing part of my day, or it would have been if I didn't have a hundred other things to do. (And if we didn't have thrush. Ouch.)
Maybe, if he doesn't like watching his wife nurse while she watches TV right there in front of him in the living room, he could go in the kitchen and load up the dishwasher.
Maybe, if he feels like there isn't enough romance in his marriage because his wife spends so much time with his children he could get a babysitter, run a bath, light some candles, order some take-out and see what happens.
Maybe, instead of handing out advice that lets men off the hook for the lack of romance in their marriages once children come along, he could help men see what they can do to make their wives feel sexy and cherished. Because if you've got a woman who feels sexy and cherished, even saggy used up breasts won't slow her down.
That's what I think. Glad I got that off my chest.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
I was at this store tonight, which is never a good start to the evening for me, when something strange happened. I was printing off some pictures and went to the till to pay for them. My total was $3.22. I gave the cashier a five dollar bill, then started fishing around in my change. When I came up with my two pennies and handed them over the cashier tells me, "Oh sorry, I can't do that."
So I say, "Are you joking?"
So he says, "I've already printed up the receipt, see? You gave me $5.00..."
I interrupt this stunningly ridiculous explanation to say, "Are you joking? This is ridiculous." (I am laughing in disbelief at this point.)
So he says, "Well if I do that then my till won't be right at the end of the night."
WHAT? I mean... Seriously... WHAT?!? Where am I?
So I say, "You will still have just as much money, you will just have a different amount of pennies!" Then, shaking my head and laughing, I interrupt myself and say, "Never mind. I'll just take what you have."
What I want to know is: Has this ever happened to you? Is this the way things go now? To me, there can be only two explanations for this wacky occurrence. One is that Stupidstore believes their cashiers are so dumb that the till tells the human beings the exact amount of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters to give a customer for change and also tells them at the end of the night the exact amount of each that they should have. The other explanation is not very flattering to the kid working behind the till tonight, and I'll leave it to you to fill in the blanks. (Unless you're that kid, in which case feel free to email me for a simplified version of this post.)
So what's your theory? I'm a little befuddled myself.
Friday, November 09, 2007
That's it. I've run out of post ideas. I was hoping I'd make it a little longer, but apparently a week of posts is as far as I get before I have to start scraping the bottom of the barrel.
So now, it's time to start making use of my emergency post ideas list.
The first idea is to tell you why I'm even concerned about writing a post today since I just wrote one yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and... You get the picture.
So here it is, the big secret, the grand announcement that I've been saving for the day that I can't think of anything to say:
I signed up for NaBloPoMo which is very much like NaNoWriMo, only lamer. I would have done it last year, only I stumbled across the website ten days into November, which was already too late. I guess the question is, why would I bother? What's the point? I don't know. Because it's there?
There are the prizes of course, but since I'm fairly certain I won't win any, I don't really consider them to be a motivating factor. It could have something to do with the challenge, but my lazy side generally has no problem backing down from a challenge, so it can't be that. I suppose I do like signing up for things. That's a pretty good reason. And Jen's doing it. I like to jump on the band wagon whenever possible. I imagine it has to do with my inner band geek.
So there you have it. I'm blogging. Every day this month. For no good reason. Let's just all hope I can think of something to write about tomorrow, because this was the only thing on my emergency post ideas list.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
You know, winter in Saskatchewan would be fab if it wouldn't get so cold. I love snow. I know some of you will hate me forever for saying that, but I do. Especially when it comes down in those big fat flakes that get caught in your eyelashes, and you can catch on your tongue.
Today was our first real snow in Yorkton. I say "real" to distinguish between the snow that lasts at least a whole day and the fake snow that only lasts an hour or two. The boys and I went outside for a while. Ben had to where his rubber boots because I haven't found any winter boots for him that match his jacket and don't have Lightening McQueen or Spiderman on them. So tacky. (Yes Mom and Dad, I can hear you from here, get him the boots he likes and stop being so prissy, blah blah blah...) Happily it wasn't too cold, so his little tootsies were fine.
Sammy was very excited, which is his usual state. I tell you, that kid gets excited about everything. "SOW! SOOOOOOOOW! SOW! SOW! SOOOOOOOOOOW!" It's so cute, even with the greeny-yellow boogers running from his nose. We did some shoveling, Sam stood under the apple tree in our front yard looking for a snack for a while, we went for a little walk, and then we came inside for some popcorn. "PCKUH! PCKUUUUUH! PCKUH! PCKUH!" It was sensational really.
Now I'm waiting for Glen to get home from school so we can get this long weekend started. I'm envisioning movies and board games and maybe pie, and maybe even some Ang time, so let's all hope it doesn't turn into a regular weekend of cleaning, and diapering, and laundry, and sitting around trying to think of something to do.
In the meantime here's a little look at the boys in the snow...