Friday, November 30, 2007

I Made It!

Well people, I did it. Thirty days of posts! Sing with me:

Feels good.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

A Whole Lotta Nothin'

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.

  1. 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.
  2. 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) :
  3. 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?"

  4. No one has sent me any Christmas ornaments for my tree yet. What gives?
  5. Anyone that has TWO immunity idols and STILL manages to get voted off of Survivor deserves exactly what he gets.
  6. 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!
  7. 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.
  8. 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.
  9. 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.
There. A post. I did it. One more to go.

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

Deck the Halls!

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

Serenity Now

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

Green is the Colour!


Saturday, November 24, 2007

This is all I've got for you tonight...

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

Blast from the Past

Our Halloween candy is finally gone. All that's left is this:
I didn't think they even made these things anymore. Doesn't just looking at it bring back memories?

  • 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.
Which leaves us with the burning question: What's creepier? The fact that somewhere on our Halloween route was someone who not only found, but purchased and handed out, every child's nightmare candy... Or the fact that Ang used to still have plenty of good Halloween candy left weeks, even months, after normal children had gorged themselves on their trick-or-treating loot?

(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

Because I Have To

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

He's here. The Phantom of the opera.

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

Parenting 380: Advanced Housekeeping

I have something to show you, but before you see it you need to know two things:

  1. I have a really sore back right now. Bending over is quite painful.
  2. We have a lot of toys in our basement.
  3. My boys are incredibly skilled when it comes to scattering toys from, literally, one corner of our basement to the other.
  4. I'm brilliant!
All right, so that was four things, but close enough. Here's the picture:
Genius! I'm telling you, this is going to change my life!

Monday, November 19, 2007

Overwhelmed by Expectation

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

If I hadn't seen it myself...

... I may not have believed it. Or at least I would have taken some convincing. Yay Riders! I'm sure there are tears of joy being wept all across the Rider Nation tonight.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

My Not-So-Dirty Little Secret

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 t
he 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

Ang is Coming

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!

I Shop Victoriously!

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 have to say...

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 Don't Get It

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

I watched some TV last night...

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

Hong Kong House

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

Don't read this Dad, it's about boobs.

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

Has this ever happened to you?

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."

WHAT? Uhhhhh?

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

The Time Has Come

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

Snow Day

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...

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Two Things:

One: My new favorite meal is a container of Ben and Sam's fancy Danino brain boosting yogurt (I prefer the raspberry) and some Eggo waffles. But not just any waffles. The new Eggo Plus - Wheat and Blueberry waffles have been rocking my world. I love those things. I want some right now, and I had them for lunch along with a taped episode of Survivor. Mmm... Jeff Probst and waffles dipped in yogurt. (I just dipped the waffles, not Jeff.) What could be better? Not much, I'll tell you that for free.
Two: Since the posts have been flying by at the speed of sound lately, I thought some of you might have missed Glen's comment on my post about Glen's Mom's condo/prison. I thought I'd share it here to make sure everyone grasps the full extent of the lunacy going on in that place. Here it is:

By the way, Margaret, the old pinch-faced, lemon sucking think tank you refer to in your imaginings actually exists at my mom's condo. They're called the "condo cops". They like to hang around /lurk /patrol the second floor of the commons area, pretending to play pool. From this vantage point they can see everyone who comes in the building from on high, waiting to pounce on unwitting rule-breakers. Not only do they take it upon themselves to chastise other tenant's family members, but they use these incidents of rule infractions to build their case for even stiffer rules and penalties.

For example: My mom's spare key has been revoked. ("You live by yourself. What do you need a spare key for?") Furthermore, she is not allowed to make a spare. (A rule forbidding locksmiths to do so is imprinted directly on the key.) Breaking the rule or having a replacement key made (should you lose your only key) carries a $100 penalty.

As far as the "guest" rooms go, I'm really at a loss to explain them. As Becky has outlined, you can't use anything in them, there's a long list of cleaning procedures you must perform before leaving the room (if you don't do them, the tenant is fined the cost of bringing in a maid), and there's a $25 / day fee for "using" the room. I've yet to figure out what this cost was invented to recoup (since patrons must do all the cleaning) ... my best guess to date is to pay for the refreshments at the condo cops next think tank meeting.

Unreal hey? I didn't know about the key. I'd go postal if I lived in that place. Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't shoot actual people. But those signs... Those signs would be bossing people around on borrowed time, and the loan shark would be... Um... He would be cashing in... Well, they'd be in trouble, that's for sure. (That one was for free too.)

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Creepy Crawlies

Since my camera was holding some kind of grudge and refused to upload my pictures last week, I never got to post an adorable picture of the boys in their Halloween costumes. And since I'll go with pretty much any idea for a post, here are my two favorite guys in all their cute costumed glory:(Click on the image for a larger size.)

Keeping with the theme of the spooky and chilling, Sam's cold has progressed to the stage where he sneezes out boogers that hang down past his chin and he walks around moaning like some unearthly apparition caught between two worlds. (What worlds? I don't know. Snot and phlegm?) It's fab.

Monday, November 05, 2007

The Lights Are Out But Someone's Home

The boys are sick. And...

Sam is teething. He also has diarrhea. He is NOT a happy camper. It would probably help if he would sleep, but he doesn't seem to be interested in that particular activity right now.

Ben's constipated. He's been working on a poop all day despite the stool softeners and prune juice I've been pouring down him. It stinks down here. He keeps giving out false alarms. He also keeps making me wipe his nose. He doesn't like boogers.

We had a power outage tonight for around three hours. (I almost thought I wasn't going to get to blog!) I had to BBQ our supper. It was the best part of my day.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

No Rest for the Wicked

Well. We're back in Yorkton. It was such a short trip you might not have even noticed we were gone, but we were. I have the bags laying upstairs ready to be unpacked to prove it... And some under my eyes, just in case you still weren't convinced. (I'm so tired right now I've got that gross ready-to-vomit feeling and I can hardly keep my eyes open.)

We stayed with Glen's mom this time. Her condo has guest rooms that can be rented like hotel rooms which sounds lovely, but really isn't. For one thing, it means we are all crammed into the same room. Glen sleeps on the floor, Sam sleeps in his playpen, and Ben and I sleep in the double bed. Before you go thinking I had the best end of the deal, you should know that for a scrawny little guy, Ben takes up a LOT of space. (Ask my mom.) He tosses around and creeps and rolls and flails... So really, Glen and I were even. Actually, I made him such a nice bed out of a contraband (more about that later) comforter, and a foam and some blankets that he said he slept great. Except for last night. Last night none of us slept great. I don't know what Sam's problem was, but I was getting close to sending Glen to the pharmacy for some Gravol to spike his bottle with. Ugh.

I'm also still suffering from some residue grumpiness brought on by the endless list of stupid rules we have to follow at Glen's mom's condo. They aren't her rules. They're the condo rules and I hate every last one of them. One day I am going to take one of those rule books and put it in our cat litter box just for some pointless, but still satisfying, vengeance. I'll probably be fined the cost of replacing it, but it'll be worth it.

We can't have any food or drink in our room. (I did.) We must not move any of the furniture. (I always do.) We can't have a key to the outside doors, even though Glen's mom has a spare. (I can't seem to find a way to break that one.) So when we come back to our room at 11pm we have to phone his mom and wake her up so she can buzz us in. Either that, or be back to our room by around nine.

Another of my favorite rules is that you can't, absolutely MUST NEVER, use the pillows or comforter on the bed in the room. I did though. (Of course.) This may shock and appall you, but I actually used the comforter folded up under a sheet to make Glen's "bed" more comfortable AND I even used the pillows underneath mine Saturday afternoon when I felt like reading in bed. I know. I'm a baaaaaaad, bad girl. Some day, when they make a rule about not sitting on the chairs, I'm gonna do it anyways... N

There's more, but if I talk about it too much I clench up all over again and get this feeling like I want to steal things and spray paint my name on bridges.

Anyways, I have more to say about the weekend, but I'll save it for another post. I can see a time in the near future where ideas will be hard to come by, so I'm trying to stock up on them. Why you ask?

Now, would that be fun? If I told? Probably not.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

This One Counts

To most people, this picture will look like a dinner out with the girls. Most people will look at this and think, "Wow! Becky does do stuff without the kids sometimes!"

People who know me, really really well will know this wasn't just a dinner out with the girls. This was no ordinary girl's night.

I thought I'd write a big post about the impact this event had on me, but I'm finding myself at a loss for words. When I look at the picture all I get is this giddy excited feeling welling up inside of me. No wonder I couldn't keep myself quiet and calm in high school. No wonder I our parents had so much trouble separating us from our phones. I had completely forgotten the effect they have on me.

Confused? That's because you don't know these are my bestest friends from high school. One of them is my bestest friend from Kindergarten. We spent so much time together that people used to ask if we were sisters. Inseparable doesn't even quite cover it. I loved her. I love her. I love all of them. I want to see them every day so that giddy, excited, alive feeling never goes away.

Which explains why I used to phone them before and after school, sit with them in class, want to be their gym partner, and hang out with them every spare (and not so spare, which explains all the class skipping) moment of every day of my teenage existence.

And which also explains why since I've seen them again (two of them I haven't seen for almost 15 years) I feel like I've found a missing part of myself that I didn't know was missing. (I'm crying. Sheesh. What a sap.)

Hmm... It looks like I did have some words after all. That always happens once I start writing. Let that be a lesson to you people who haven't posted for weeks. Just start writing. I promise I'll read it and even leave a comment.

Friday, November 02, 2007

This Doesn't Count

There are days, like today, when I miss the other me. I miss fun Becky. I miss cute Becky. I miss bubbly Becky. She's swell. I like being around her.

These days I spend a lot more of my time with grumpy Becky. Frustrated Becky hangs around a lot. Mean Becky shows up every now and then. And tired Becky never leaves me alone. She's not just sleepy tired though. She's "Knock-knock jokes are so tired" tired. Worn out. Lame. Passé. She bugs me the most. She's the one that brings along the Beckies I don't like whenever she visits. I feel bad for the people that have to hang around with all of us.

It seems that letting myself go has become a bit of a habit with me. On so many levels. And if you think about the phrase, it's more about what's happening inside than it is outside. The part that people can see is only a symptom of what's really going on. Inside, I find I'm letting myself slack off on most of the things that are important to me, including my faith. It's not about making a conscious choice to settle for less, but instead, just letting whatever is going to happen... happen. And that's less. I don't like that about my life right now.

I know I've said this before, but when I take a minute and compare what I dreamed my life would be to what it is, I'm shocked. It's not everything, just some things. I always expected to have a family. That part doesn't surprise me. I like being able to be at home with my boys. What does surprise me is how much of the other stuff gets pushed aside for that one dream. And I allow it. I don't discipline myself to choose a better way.

I need to stop letting myself go. To borrow a tired saying, I need to find myself again. The self I liked and respected. The self I enjoy spending time with. Because I am sick of hanging around with someone who lets me, my family, and my God down over and over again.

That's all. I just needed to get that off my chest (I've got enough on there without adding anything to it) before I post again with the long awaited picture(s). (By the way, we still can't figure out exactly what's going on. Glen has said some things about drivers and ports that I don't really understand. The good news is that I will be at mom and dad's on Saturday where I can load my photos onto their computer and then onto our zip drive and then I'll be able to bring them home and load them up here... Or I could just post from there. Whichever.)

So... Anyways... Umm... Starting now.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Starting Now

My camera is broken. Or my computer. Or the cord that goes from my camera to my computer.

Either way, I can't get my photos off of my camera and onto my computer. And so... No new posts. Why you ask? Why can't I just write something without a picture?

Because I said so.

(Heh heh. Man I used to hate it when Dad would say that. Actually, he still says that, and I still hate it. But now that I have Ben asking me for candy and green cars every waking hour of every day, I'm starting to see where he was coming from...)

Where was I? Oh yeah, because I said so. Actually, I don't mind telling you. The real reason is that I have this picture of a magical event I attended with some fab people, and I'm not posting anything else till I get to write about it.

I guess I'm posting this though. But it doesn't count. It's like when you say, "I'm not talking to you anymore." But then someone asks you to clarify why you aren't speaking to them, or for how long the silent treatment is going to last, or you need to ask them to pass the mustard or something. So you just say "Starting now!" after you get everything all straightened out.

Sometimes you can even say more stuff after that. You just have to say starting now again and the new stuff doesn't count either.

That's what this post is. It's the stuff before I say starting now. Or possibly after I say starting now, but before I say starting now again.