Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
It's Getting Scary In Here!
Poor Keegs, fell asleep on his coat zippers and woke up looking like Frankenstein!!
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You know, I am getting quite sick (pardon the pun) of cleaning up barf from not only my children's beds, but my own. Why, why! Why do they first hurl in their own bed, then repeat the performance in mine? Gross, I tell you! First Phoenix in the wee hours of Friday morning, and today Keegan. I hope that Tyger isn't next (or God forbid, me!)
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A very happy birthday today to our friend Dave, who turns 33 years young!
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Hiya Santa!
Judging from the look on Ty's face, Santa is promising him some good loot! All three boys had a great time at the Santa party today. More pictures soon...
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Well Ain't That Just Typical
Murphy's Law? Yeah...change that to Shannon's Law.
On Thursday I was hosting a birthday dinner for myself and my aunt. I had done most of the prep work and housecleaning prior to the event, and only had a few things left to do. In the morning, I had an appointment at the school, to observe Phoenix in the classroom. That was kind of fun...I'll get to that later. When I got home, I got the cleaning of the bathrooms over with and started the dough brewing for the bread in the machine. Then I fed Ty, hoping he would sleep long enough for me to get the appetizers done. No such luck. So, I gave the boys lunch, put Keegs down for his nap, topped up Ty, and whew! He fell asleep. So I ran to do the appetizers. These were basically a cream cheese mixture rolled in phyllo pastry.
Anyone who has worked with phyllo before knows that you need to work with some speed so that the pastry doesn't dry out. So with all ingredients to hand, including a bowl of melted butter, I began. I got three rolls into it before Ty woke up screaming his lungs out. So I had to pack up everything and put it away before I could go get him or everything would be ruined. In my haste, I knocked over the bloody bowl of melted butter all over the effing kitchen table and floor (which I had just washed the day before!) Kripes! So, as Ty was now hysterical and into the type of sobbing cry that makes you want to burst into tears yourself, I said to myself "Screw it!" and left it all to deal with him. 45 minutes later, he was again asleep, and I dragged myself back to the kitchen, to clean up the freaking mess, and finish the rolls. Long story short, I did manage to get it all done, clean the table and floor, and rise the bread and put it in the oven. Before I knew it, the bread was baked and cooling, Keegan was up, and it was time to go back to school to get Phoenix. Where did the freaking day go?
La, la, la. Anyway, aside from the fact that my Aunt Helen couldn't make it to the party due to driving conditions in her neck of the woods (we missed you Helen!) the dinner went off without a hitch and all was well. Got some great presents too...two sets of bedding for my eight-mile high mattress, a gift certificate for my hairdresser, a basket of assorted coffees, Billy Joel's Greatest Hits, Vol. 1-3 and three great books, including the Narnia Chronicles...but I digress. So I got Ty off to bed, and settled in for my long winter's nap. And to be honest, it wasn't bad. Kids didn't wake up until 7:00, which is quite the sleep-in around here, seriously.
But when I awoke, my first thought was, "What the hell is that smell?" So I checked various children for diaper emergencies, and nothing. Then Phoenix says to me, "I threw up in my bed." Yeah, that's what you want to hear first thing. Turns out, that around 1:30 am, he not only threw up in his bed, but then crawled into bed with Mark (I had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs) and puked in there too. And then decided maybe the toilet would be a better option. So, with eye granola still clouding my vision, I am stripping the bedding from two rooms and hosing down a child.
No sooner was that all taken care of then he informs me that he things he's going to be sick again. And oh yeah, was he ever! Needless to say, the rest of my day today was spent washing linens and making beds and administering toast and gingerale to Couch-Boy. Man, I need a vacation!
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To get back to the school observation, I should first give a bit of medical background on Phoenix. The day after he was born, Phoenix had a stroke. I won't go into the harrowing emotional details or medical ones or I would be typing all night, but in the end, he was pronounced fine after a year of occupational therapy. We were told that if we would notice any affects from the stroke, it would be when he began to speak (no problems there, the kid has a larger vocabulary than me, and he's 5!), or when he began school, where there would either be problems with math or written language comprehension. Knowing this, I had asked Phoenix's teacher to keep an eye on him in these areas to see if there were any emerging problems. Turns out, there is. She told me that upon classroom testing, he can only name 4 out of the seven letters in his name, and not too many others in the alphabet, and only a few of the numbers from 1-20. If he does not get a handle on this by the end of the year, then grade one will be a certain hell for him, academically speaking. Grade one moves at a much quicker pace, with a lot more writing and seat work. It isn't that he CAN'T do the work, he just takes much longer to do it, and it frustrates him to be last, when everyone else is moving on to play activities. Sigh. So Mark and I are trying to work out a learning programme at home to incorporate these areas of learning in a fun way. I played GO FISH with him today to work on his number recognition and he had fun doing that, so I hope things will work out. We have a follow-up interview in January to see how he is progressing and if he will need outside assistance.
So, a bit of a stressful few days, on top of which, I had heard that in the space of a few days, my godfather/uncle has had two heart attacks! Okay God, a little help in that corner would be awesome right about now. And if you could spare a few seconds to get Phoenix on track, that would be great too...
On a more fun note, to end this post, tomorrow we are going to a Santa party. It is hosted by the company I used to work for. My kids still get to go, because my father also worked there, and grandkids of retirees are eligible. So, hopefully, Phoenix is better tomorrow and we can go. Will update with Santa pictures tomorrow if we make it. Time to crash.
On Thursday I was hosting a birthday dinner for myself and my aunt. I had done most of the prep work and housecleaning prior to the event, and only had a few things left to do. In the morning, I had an appointment at the school, to observe Phoenix in the classroom. That was kind of fun...I'll get to that later. When I got home, I got the cleaning of the bathrooms over with and started the dough brewing for the bread in the machine. Then I fed Ty, hoping he would sleep long enough for me to get the appetizers done. No such luck. So, I gave the boys lunch, put Keegs down for his nap, topped up Ty, and whew! He fell asleep. So I ran to do the appetizers. These were basically a cream cheese mixture rolled in phyllo pastry.
Anyone who has worked with phyllo before knows that you need to work with some speed so that the pastry doesn't dry out. So with all ingredients to hand, including a bowl of melted butter, I began. I got three rolls into it before Ty woke up screaming his lungs out. So I had to pack up everything and put it away before I could go get him or everything would be ruined. In my haste, I knocked over the bloody bowl of melted butter all over the effing kitchen table and floor (which I had just washed the day before!) Kripes! So, as Ty was now hysterical and into the type of sobbing cry that makes you want to burst into tears yourself, I said to myself "Screw it!" and left it all to deal with him. 45 minutes later, he was again asleep, and I dragged myself back to the kitchen, to clean up the freaking mess, and finish the rolls. Long story short, I did manage to get it all done, clean the table and floor, and rise the bread and put it in the oven. Before I knew it, the bread was baked and cooling, Keegan was up, and it was time to go back to school to get Phoenix. Where did the freaking day go?
La, la, la. Anyway, aside from the fact that my Aunt Helen couldn't make it to the party due to driving conditions in her neck of the woods (we missed you Helen!) the dinner went off without a hitch and all was well. Got some great presents too...two sets of bedding for my eight-mile high mattress, a gift certificate for my hairdresser, a basket of assorted coffees, Billy Joel's Greatest Hits, Vol. 1-3 and three great books, including the Narnia Chronicles...but I digress. So I got Ty off to bed, and settled in for my long winter's nap. And to be honest, it wasn't bad. Kids didn't wake up until 7:00, which is quite the sleep-in around here, seriously.
But when I awoke, my first thought was, "What the hell is that smell?" So I checked various children for diaper emergencies, and nothing. Then Phoenix says to me, "I threw up in my bed." Yeah, that's what you want to hear first thing. Turns out, that around 1:30 am, he not only threw up in his bed, but then crawled into bed with Mark (I had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs) and puked in there too. And then decided maybe the toilet would be a better option. So, with eye granola still clouding my vision, I am stripping the bedding from two rooms and hosing down a child.
No sooner was that all taken care of then he informs me that he things he's going to be sick again. And oh yeah, was he ever! Needless to say, the rest of my day today was spent washing linens and making beds and administering toast and gingerale to Couch-Boy. Man, I need a vacation!
**************************************************************************
To get back to the school observation, I should first give a bit of medical background on Phoenix. The day after he was born, Phoenix had a stroke. I won't go into the harrowing emotional details or medical ones or I would be typing all night, but in the end, he was pronounced fine after a year of occupational therapy. We were told that if we would notice any affects from the stroke, it would be when he began to speak (no problems there, the kid has a larger vocabulary than me, and he's 5!), or when he began school, where there would either be problems with math or written language comprehension. Knowing this, I had asked Phoenix's teacher to keep an eye on him in these areas to see if there were any emerging problems. Turns out, there is. She told me that upon classroom testing, he can only name 4 out of the seven letters in his name, and not too many others in the alphabet, and only a few of the numbers from 1-20. If he does not get a handle on this by the end of the year, then grade one will be a certain hell for him, academically speaking. Grade one moves at a much quicker pace, with a lot more writing and seat work. It isn't that he CAN'T do the work, he just takes much longer to do it, and it frustrates him to be last, when everyone else is moving on to play activities. Sigh. So Mark and I are trying to work out a learning programme at home to incorporate these areas of learning in a fun way. I played GO FISH with him today to work on his number recognition and he had fun doing that, so I hope things will work out. We have a follow-up interview in January to see how he is progressing and if he will need outside assistance.
So, a bit of a stressful few days, on top of which, I had heard that in the space of a few days, my godfather/uncle has had two heart attacks! Okay God, a little help in that corner would be awesome right about now. And if you could spare a few seconds to get Phoenix on track, that would be great too...
On a more fun note, to end this post, tomorrow we are going to a Santa party. It is hosted by the company I used to work for. My kids still get to go, because my father also worked there, and grandkids of retirees are eligible. So, hopefully, Phoenix is better tomorrow and we can go. Will update with Santa pictures tomorrow if we make it. Time to crash.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Out of the Mouths of Babes?
My son said something to me this morning that literally left me speechless. I simply stared at him open-mouthed...
We were about to leave to take Phoenix to school, and I asked him to please get Keegan's juice for him out of the fridge. He did, and as he handed it to me, he said, "I'm not your slave, you know!" My look of shock and disbelief didn't phase him. I asked him to repeat what he said in case I had misheard him. But no, he repeated it verbatim. Then the look on my face must have hit home, because he started backing up against the wall, saying, "Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I don't even recall what I said to him, something menacing, I'm sure.
I repeated the story to my husband over dinner, and he almost choked. "Where does he get this stuff?" he asked incredulously. I simply shrugged, but as I was finishing my meal, a recent memory floated past my brain...
Phoenix: Mom! Get me a snack!
Me: Jeez, Phoenix, I'm not your slave, you know!
Yeah, well, I guess it's just another one of those daily occurances where what you say in passing comes back to bite you in the ass...BAD MOMMY!
We were about to leave to take Phoenix to school, and I asked him to please get Keegan's juice for him out of the fridge. He did, and as he handed it to me, he said, "I'm not your slave, you know!" My look of shock and disbelief didn't phase him. I asked him to repeat what he said in case I had misheard him. But no, he repeated it verbatim. Then the look on my face must have hit home, because he started backing up against the wall, saying, "Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I don't even recall what I said to him, something menacing, I'm sure.
I repeated the story to my husband over dinner, and he almost choked. "Where does he get this stuff?" he asked incredulously. I simply shrugged, but as I was finishing my meal, a recent memory floated past my brain...
Phoenix: Mom! Get me a snack!
Me: Jeez, Phoenix, I'm not your slave, you know!
Yeah, well, I guess it's just another one of those daily occurances where what you say in passing comes back to bite you in the ass...BAD MOMMY!
Monday, November 21, 2005
I'm Alive!
There seems to be some concern out there that I have perished in my sleep. Be not afraid; I am recovered. Drugs are wonderful things, as far as antibiotics go. So now I am mostly cough-free and beginning to catch up on a bit of sleep.
Took Tyger to the Dr's today for his 6 month check-up (where did THAT half-year go?) and he is doing extremely well. He is now a robust 17 pounds, 12 oz. And he actually slept for 8 1/2 hours last night, which is the first time since getting pneumonia on Hallowe'en, which means I got a few hours in myself.
Mark took me to Niagara Falls last night for dinner and a show at a great little place called "O Canada, Eh?" Nice family-style 5 course dinner and a cute Christmas show. We had fun, and Ty even took a bottle (of breast-milk, mind) while I was gone. All good.
Phoenix told me yesterday what he wants to be when he grows up. "I want to do what Opa does," he said. "A carpenter?" I asked. "No, Mommy, I just want to stay at home and go on trips a couple of times a year!" So we determined that Phoenix just wants to be retired. Smart kid.
Well, laundry calls yet again (damn that fairy!)...
Bye for now.
Took Tyger to the Dr's today for his 6 month check-up (where did THAT half-year go?) and he is doing extremely well. He is now a robust 17 pounds, 12 oz. And he actually slept for 8 1/2 hours last night, which is the first time since getting pneumonia on Hallowe'en, which means I got a few hours in myself.
Mark took me to Niagara Falls last night for dinner and a show at a great little place called "O Canada, Eh?" Nice family-style 5 course dinner and a cute Christmas show. We had fun, and Ty even took a bottle (of breast-milk, mind) while I was gone. All good.
Phoenix told me yesterday what he wants to be when he grows up. "I want to do what Opa does," he said. "A carpenter?" I asked. "No, Mommy, I just want to stay at home and go on trips a couple of times a year!" So we determined that Phoenix just wants to be retired. Smart kid.
Well, laundry calls yet again (damn that fairy!)...
Bye for now.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Birthday Post Scriptum
Just like to add that today sucked. I mean, birthdays are generally always good, because you hear from most of your friends and family and presents don't hurt either. But being sick on your birthday really blows.
Instead of going out for dinner as planned, I spent the evening with Phoenix and Keegs in the walk-in clinic. The two of them drove me absolutely BONKERS today. I think that someone slipped them uppers at breakfast. They were bouncing off the walls, talking back and generally being excruciatingly irritating. Also, Ty has a head cold, and is teething, so he is pretty cranky as well.
As I was saying, went to the clinic. Phoenix has a nail-bed infection due to his propensity for hang-nails that he pulls off. I tried treating it at home with various antibacterial creams to no avail. Now he is going to lose the nail and is freaking at the prospect. He is also now on anitbiotics. Keegan has bronchitis and is also on antibiotics and an inhaler. And since I haven't slept in the past five nights due to excessive coughing, I was checked out as well only to discover that I have bronchial pneumonia, and was also prescribed antibiotics and an inhaler. Kripes! Then the doctor suggested that I try to rest as much as possible with little to no physical exertion. (Did I spell that right? It looks wrong...) Anyway, after a 10 minute choking coughing fit brought on by laughter at the impossibility of the suggestion with 3 little cranky monsters to look after all day, I resignedly took the prescriptions to the pharmacy to get filled while Mark loaded the kiddies in the car.
I swear, I spent 45 in the pharmacy because my dumb-ass insurance company (yeah, it's BLUE CROSS, and it FREAKING BLOWS!) refused to pay for Phoenix's prescriptions saying that they had filled a duplicate claim for him. I don't even remember the last time I took Phoenix to the doctor, let alone got him antibiotics. So, I ended up having to pay out of pocket which pissed me off further. This post is going from bad to worse, so I'm quitting now. Hope tomorrow is better.
Instead of going out for dinner as planned, I spent the evening with Phoenix and Keegs in the walk-in clinic. The two of them drove me absolutely BONKERS today. I think that someone slipped them uppers at breakfast. They were bouncing off the walls, talking back and generally being excruciatingly irritating. Also, Ty has a head cold, and is teething, so he is pretty cranky as well.
As I was saying, went to the clinic. Phoenix has a nail-bed infection due to his propensity for hang-nails that he pulls off. I tried treating it at home with various antibacterial creams to no avail. Now he is going to lose the nail and is freaking at the prospect. He is also now on anitbiotics. Keegan has bronchitis and is also on antibiotics and an inhaler. And since I haven't slept in the past five nights due to excessive coughing, I was checked out as well only to discover that I have bronchial pneumonia, and was also prescribed antibiotics and an inhaler. Kripes! Then the doctor suggested that I try to rest as much as possible with little to no physical exertion. (Did I spell that right? It looks wrong...) Anyway, after a 10 minute choking coughing fit brought on by laughter at the impossibility of the suggestion with 3 little cranky monsters to look after all day, I resignedly took the prescriptions to the pharmacy to get filled while Mark loaded the kiddies in the car.
I swear, I spent 45 in the pharmacy because my dumb-ass insurance company (yeah, it's BLUE CROSS, and it FREAKING BLOWS!) refused to pay for Phoenix's prescriptions saying that they had filled a duplicate claim for him. I don't even remember the last time I took Phoenix to the doctor, let alone got him antibiotics. So, I ended up having to pay out of pocket which pissed me off further. This post is going from bad to worse, so I'm quitting now. Hope tomorrow is better.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Me and the Beatles
You say it's your birthday/ It's my birthday too, yeah/ They say it's your birthday/ We're gonna have a good time/ I'm glad it's your birthday/ Happy birthday to you/ Yes we're going to a party, party /Yes we're going to a party, party /Yes we're going to a party, party /I would like you to dance (birthday)/ Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (birthday) /I would like you to dance (birthday) /Ooo, dance, yeah I would like you to dance (birthday) /Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (birthday) /I would like you to dance (birthday)/ Ooo, dance/ You say it's your birthday /It's my birthday too, yeah /They say it's your birthday /We're gonna have a good time/ I'm glad it's your birthday /Happy birthday to you /Happy birthday to you (Lennon/McCartney)
That being said, today is my birthday! I am 33 today. My Mom always told me that spectacular things happen in your double digit years (11, 22, 33 etc). Let's think...well, when I was 11, I got my first period...I guess that was exciting back then...little did I know... Hmm, 22? Graduated from university...got engaged...hey, maybe she was right.
At any rate, I am hoping that this is a lucky year as well. Follow along with me in the BLOG this year and we'll see what happens, eh?
Whenever it is someone's birthday, the first thing I want to know is what presents they received. So, in case you are also this sort of person, let me enlighten you. From my Dad, I got a gift certificate for American Eagle. From my in-laws, cash (always fits perfectly!). From my brother Mike, 4 bottles of Pop Shoppe Black Cherry Cola (AWESOME) and the first volume of Davey and Goliath on DVD. My sister-in-law made me a lovely dinner and gave me a beautiful bouquet of flowers. My brother Tommy sent a card(by previous agreement, we only get presents for each others' kids) and my brother Paul (God bless him) will probably remember my birthday in January and get me a sweater that would look great on a Grandmother.
From my hubby and kiddies: the new Outburst game and dinner and a show for Sunday night! I don't know what the show is yet, but I'll let you know!
Next Thursday is my b-day dinner with the aunts and cousins, so I'll update after that as well. Yeah, I'm spoiled!
That being said, today is my birthday! I am 33 today. My Mom always told me that spectacular things happen in your double digit years (11, 22, 33 etc). Let's think...well, when I was 11, I got my first period...I guess that was exciting back then...little did I know... Hmm, 22? Graduated from university...got engaged...hey, maybe she was right.
At any rate, I am hoping that this is a lucky year as well. Follow along with me in the BLOG this year and we'll see what happens, eh?
Whenever it is someone's birthday, the first thing I want to know is what presents they received. So, in case you are also this sort of person, let me enlighten you. From my Dad, I got a gift certificate for American Eagle. From my in-laws, cash (always fits perfectly!). From my brother Mike, 4 bottles of Pop Shoppe Black Cherry Cola (AWESOME) and the first volume of Davey and Goliath on DVD. My sister-in-law made me a lovely dinner and gave me a beautiful bouquet of flowers. My brother Tommy sent a card(by previous agreement, we only get presents for each others' kids) and my brother Paul (God bless him) will probably remember my birthday in January and get me a sweater that would look great on a Grandmother.
From my hubby and kiddies: the new Outburst game and dinner and a show for Sunday night! I don't know what the show is yet, but I'll let you know!
Next Thursday is my b-day dinner with the aunts and cousins, so I'll update after that as well. Yeah, I'm spoiled!
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Bronchitis hell
Oh God! I'm in bronchitis hell! You know sometimes when you eat popcorn, and you get one of those little teeny tiny kernal husks stuck in your throat and you have to drink a can of Coke or cough for an hour to dislodge it? Well, that's what I feel like 24-7. Of course, this intensifies the minute I try to recline to any angle more than 90 degrees...so when I try to sleep, and end up coughing until I barf, or until I wake up one or more children. My stomach feels like I've done a million crunches! Hey, I'd put up with the coughing if it would show visible improvement to my abs...
Well, enough bitching I guess.
Hah, right? You believed me? Read on, friend.
I seem to have an evil laundry fairy living in my house. I'm sure you've heard of them before. They sneak into your house the minute after you've finished putting away the last clean sock. The next morning: BAM! 13 loads of dirty laundry...what the hell! Today I did 8 loads. EIGHT! No wonder my back hurts. (From carrying the basket upstairs 4 floors, not that I was doing wringer-washing by hand or anything, but still...it's heavy!)
My husband's band is playing in a show for charity on Friday night. He sings and plays bass. He also brandishes a cross of garlic at me when I come within less than 10 feet of him. He says it's because he doesn't want to get sick before the show and lose his voice, but honestly, I'm beginning to get a complex.
Well, I guess I'd better go fold the whites and put the towels in the dryer, and leave some milk and cookies out for the evil fairy (the bastard!)...
Oh, and a very Happy Birthday to my brother Mike, who today turns 36!
Well, enough bitching I guess.
Hah, right? You believed me? Read on, friend.
I seem to have an evil laundry fairy living in my house. I'm sure you've heard of them before. They sneak into your house the minute after you've finished putting away the last clean sock. The next morning: BAM! 13 loads of dirty laundry...what the hell! Today I did 8 loads. EIGHT! No wonder my back hurts. (From carrying the basket upstairs 4 floors, not that I was doing wringer-washing by hand or anything, but still...it's heavy!)
My husband's band is playing in a show for charity on Friday night. He sings and plays bass. He also brandishes a cross of garlic at me when I come within less than 10 feet of him. He says it's because he doesn't want to get sick before the show and lose his voice, but honestly, I'm beginning to get a complex.
Well, I guess I'd better go fold the whites and put the towels in the dryer, and leave some milk and cookies out for the evil fairy (the bastard!)...
Oh, and a very Happy Birthday to my brother Mike, who today turns 36!
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Happy Birthday Hubby!
Too tired and too sick to do much of a post. I think I've got pneumonia or something. Kripes. Can't breathe. Can't stop coughing...
Sorry babe, I know it's your birthday and all, but I think we'll have to postpone birthday sex until I grow some new lungs. I love you though! And that's what really matters, right? Right? Umm...honey?
Sorry babe, I know it's your birthday and all, but I think we'll have to postpone birthday sex until I grow some new lungs. I love you though! And that's what really matters, right? Right? Umm...honey?
Thursday, November 10, 2005
My Version of Chaos Theory
Chaos, with reference to chaos theory, refers to an apparent lack of order in a system that nevertheless obeys particular laws or rules; this understanding of chaos is synonymous with dynamical instability, a condition discovered by the physicist Henri Poincare in the early 20th century that refers to an inherent lack of predictability in some physical systems. The two main components of chaos theory are the ideas that systems - no matter how complex they may be - rely upon an underlying order, and that very simple or small systems and events can cause very complex behaviors or events.
Then there is MY version of chaos theory: that within a maximum of 1/2 hour before a scheduled appointment, all hell will break loose within the household, with all 3 kids bursting into tears and requiring my individual and immediate attention. Case in point, yesterday.
I had a hair appointment scheduled for 5:15 pm, which meant that by 5:00, I had to have the baby fed, and all three boys dressed and ready to go into the car when Mark came home from work. So, at 4:30, I settled down to feed the baby and told the boys to put their socks on, as we were leaving soon for a car ride. So, of course, Keegs takes that to mean that we are leaving immediately, and runs to the front door to get his shoes and coat. Bun runs after him to try to block him from leaving the house, and accidently slams poor Keegs' fingers in the front door. As soon as the screaming starts, I have to put down Tyger, who has only just started to feed. So he starts bellowing with righteous rage, Bun is sobbing with sympathy and guilt, and Keegs is shrieking, "My bingers! My bingers!" at the top of his lungs. Okay, first things first. I check the "bingers" in question to determine the extent of damage. They are flattened with black bruising lines across them, but he is able to bend them, so I don't think that they are broken. I go to get the ice pack. Meanwhile, Bun says that he can't stop his tears and has to go to bed until they stop, because he is the "worst brother EVER!" I get the ice pack on Keegs, and assure Bun that it was an accident, and that he is a GREAT brother, and that he was only trying to save Keegs from running out into the street. Whew! Nose blowing all around, as well as major tear blotting. Tyger, in the meantime, is hysterical to the point of choking, so I run to get him, which starts the other two crying yet again.
So, at this point, it is 4:55, and I have yet to even feed the baby, let alone get everyone dressed. Then my husband arrives, calling cheerfully, "Is everyone ready to go?" Oh yes, I have forgotten to mention that over the previous 24 hours, I have developed laryngitis, so attempting to tell him what is going on is futile. Instead, I settle to feed Ty, and just resign myself to being late as usual.
Yeah, so that's the REAL version of chaos theory, according to a stressed-out mom of three.
Then there is MY version of chaos theory: that within a maximum of 1/2 hour before a scheduled appointment, all hell will break loose within the household, with all 3 kids bursting into tears and requiring my individual and immediate attention. Case in point, yesterday.
I had a hair appointment scheduled for 5:15 pm, which meant that by 5:00, I had to have the baby fed, and all three boys dressed and ready to go into the car when Mark came home from work. So, at 4:30, I settled down to feed the baby and told the boys to put their socks on, as we were leaving soon for a car ride. So, of course, Keegs takes that to mean that we are leaving immediately, and runs to the front door to get his shoes and coat. Bun runs after him to try to block him from leaving the house, and accidently slams poor Keegs' fingers in the front door. As soon as the screaming starts, I have to put down Tyger, who has only just started to feed. So he starts bellowing with righteous rage, Bun is sobbing with sympathy and guilt, and Keegs is shrieking, "My bingers! My bingers!" at the top of his lungs. Okay, first things first. I check the "bingers" in question to determine the extent of damage. They are flattened with black bruising lines across them, but he is able to bend them, so I don't think that they are broken. I go to get the ice pack. Meanwhile, Bun says that he can't stop his tears and has to go to bed until they stop, because he is the "worst brother EVER!" I get the ice pack on Keegs, and assure Bun that it was an accident, and that he is a GREAT brother, and that he was only trying to save Keegs from running out into the street. Whew! Nose blowing all around, as well as major tear blotting. Tyger, in the meantime, is hysterical to the point of choking, so I run to get him, which starts the other two crying yet again.
So, at this point, it is 4:55, and I have yet to even feed the baby, let alone get everyone dressed. Then my husband arrives, calling cheerfully, "Is everyone ready to go?" Oh yes, I have forgotten to mention that over the previous 24 hours, I have developed laryngitis, so attempting to tell him what is going on is futile. Instead, I settle to feed Ty, and just resign myself to being late as usual.
Yeah, so that's the REAL version of chaos theory, according to a stressed-out mom of three.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Rabbits, aunt-shrinking and the joy of peas
I thought of a million and one things to post about tonight during my nightly outing to Tim Horton's...so bear with me here...
I think the first time I ever saw a wild rabbit was about 12 years ago. It was in my then-boyfriend's (now husband's) backyard. We saw it every winter for about 5 years, then I didn't see any until last summer. The occasional bunny scooting across a neighbour's lawn. Now, either the fox population is WAY down, or those rabbits have been really doing what they do best, because I don't go a day now without seeing at least a pair. They're everywhere! Little brown bunnies with white tails. Cute. But damned prolific. I always thought that rabbits must be Catholic, and now I'm positive about it...their way of welcoming in the new Pope?
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My 10-year-old nephew came over for a visit with my sister-in-law yesterday. I saw him about 3 weeks ago, at which time the top of his head came to my nose. Now he is the exact same height as me. Mind you, I'm only 5'2", but jeez, if he's this tall at 10, he's going to be 6'10" at 18! Glad I'm not the one buying him new pants every month!
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I was at the grocery store this evening (with 3 kids! Yeah, we're brave, alright!) and as I meandered up and down the aisles, I thought about how there are foods that I never buy simply because I don't like them. Or in the case of carrots and about a thousand other food items, allergic to them. This is very unfair of me. I should not deprive my kids of the joy (or so I'm told-eww!) of peas. *At this point, I should point out that I DO have a bag of peas in the freezer. The fact that they are used as an ice-pack is irrelevant, right?-But I digress...) So, in the interest of spreading pea-joy, I bought a couple of jars of pureed peas to test-drive on my 6-month old son. I found the fact that he hoovered them up in about 2.3 seconds amazing. Especially since they stayed in his mouth, and not all over his bib! I wonder though, how much of his green pea enthusiasm is due to the taste, as opposed to the fact that by the time we got home from shopping and I fed them to him, it was 2 hours past the normal time he would normally eat solids. We'll see how they go over tomorrow.
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I'm quite excited about this week. Why you ask? Well, on Wednesday, I get to escape for a few hours to get my hair done (yes, I did say HOURS, it takes time to achieve this level of spectacular beauty...I'll wait till you finish choking on your coffee...) and on Saturday I'm going out for dinner with a bunch of my girlfriends. We are celebrating our birthdays, which all fall within the next 4 weeks or so. Yahoo! Two nights out! In the same month! Man...it's sad when you get excited about a trip to the hairdresser, right? Skip the post when I start to enthuse about the dentist...
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Well, it's about 11:30 pm, and I still have to get Bun's stuff ready for school tomorrow (clothes, lunch, school-bag etc.) so I'd better be off. Hope you haven't gone cross-eyed from reading all of these disjointed thoughts. So, as I say to my boys, "Later, tater!"
I think the first time I ever saw a wild rabbit was about 12 years ago. It was in my then-boyfriend's (now husband's) backyard. We saw it every winter for about 5 years, then I didn't see any until last summer. The occasional bunny scooting across a neighbour's lawn. Now, either the fox population is WAY down, or those rabbits have been really doing what they do best, because I don't go a day now without seeing at least a pair. They're everywhere! Little brown bunnies with white tails. Cute. But damned prolific. I always thought that rabbits must be Catholic, and now I'm positive about it...their way of welcoming in the new Pope?
******************************************************************************
My 10-year-old nephew came over for a visit with my sister-in-law yesterday. I saw him about 3 weeks ago, at which time the top of his head came to my nose. Now he is the exact same height as me. Mind you, I'm only 5'2", but jeez, if he's this tall at 10, he's going to be 6'10" at 18! Glad I'm not the one buying him new pants every month!
*********************************************************************************
I was at the grocery store this evening (with 3 kids! Yeah, we're brave, alright!) and as I meandered up and down the aisles, I thought about how there are foods that I never buy simply because I don't like them. Or in the case of carrots and about a thousand other food items, allergic to them. This is very unfair of me. I should not deprive my kids of the joy (or so I'm told-eww!) of peas. *At this point, I should point out that I DO have a bag of peas in the freezer. The fact that they are used as an ice-pack is irrelevant, right?-But I digress...) So, in the interest of spreading pea-joy, I bought a couple of jars of pureed peas to test-drive on my 6-month old son. I found the fact that he hoovered them up in about 2.3 seconds amazing. Especially since they stayed in his mouth, and not all over his bib! I wonder though, how much of his green pea enthusiasm is due to the taste, as opposed to the fact that by the time we got home from shopping and I fed them to him, it was 2 hours past the normal time he would normally eat solids. We'll see how they go over tomorrow.
*********************************************************************
I'm quite excited about this week. Why you ask? Well, on Wednesday, I get to escape for a few hours to get my hair done (yes, I did say HOURS, it takes time to achieve this level of spectacular beauty...I'll wait till you finish choking on your coffee...) and on Saturday I'm going out for dinner with a bunch of my girlfriends. We are celebrating our birthdays, which all fall within the next 4 weeks or so. Yahoo! Two nights out! In the same month! Man...it's sad when you get excited about a trip to the hairdresser, right? Skip the post when I start to enthuse about the dentist...
*********************************************************************************
Well, it's about 11:30 pm, and I still have to get Bun's stuff ready for school tomorrow (clothes, lunch, school-bag etc.) so I'd better be off. Hope you haven't gone cross-eyed from reading all of these disjointed thoughts. So, as I say to my boys, "Later, tater!"
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Oh yeah, I could be a criminal...if I wanted to...
Before you start reading, hum the theme to Mission Impossible for a minute, you know "Da, da , DA DA, da da DADA....doo doo doo, doo doo doo" etc.
Now, picture a 3-year old boy, curled up on the couch, watching Mickey Mouse with his deparately-needs-a-wash blankie firmly in his grasp. Enter Mom in stealth mode..."Hey, look sweetie, is that Spiderman on the ceiling? No? My mistake...". See the little boy go back to watching Mickey while his mother, casually whistling above theme song, walks sideways out of the room, looking 5 months pregnant. A mad dash for the basement stairs, a whip of the wrist, and voila! One skanky blankie in the washing machine. I hope it is finished drying before nap time rolls around...
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PS Happy Birthday to Auntie Susan and childhood pal Jackie!
Now, picture a 3-year old boy, curled up on the couch, watching Mickey Mouse with his deparately-needs-a-wash blankie firmly in his grasp. Enter Mom in stealth mode..."Hey, look sweetie, is that Spiderman on the ceiling? No? My mistake...". See the little boy go back to watching Mickey while his mother, casually whistling above theme song, walks sideways out of the room, looking 5 months pregnant. A mad dash for the basement stairs, a whip of the wrist, and voila! One skanky blankie in the washing machine. I hope it is finished drying before nap time rolls around...
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PS Happy Birthday to Auntie Susan and childhood pal Jackie!
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Out of Sight, Out of Mind?
Whoever said "Out of sight, out of mind" was obviously not referring to a stash of Hallowe'en candy. "Hello...?" I hear it calling me. "It is I, the bite-size Coffee Crisp! There are 15 of us in this bowl...! Come, come my pretty..."
Well, let's just say that there are no longer 15 Coffee Crisp bars in the bowl. And leave it at that.
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I discovered a sad thing today. I have forgotten the art of shopping-for-self. My husband gave me a 3 hour reprieve from the kids today so I could go to the mall, and by myself a new outfit for our family photo session that's coming up next week. I went there to buy pants, a shirt and some shoes that aren't from circa 1991...and sadly, I came home with a shirt and a pair of gloves for my oldest son, a shirt and a sweater for my middle son, and 2 shirts, a pair of pants and some pyjamas for the baby. That's it. No pants for me. No shirt for me. Definitely no shoes for me. I've forgotten how to shop. Kripes. I think someone should just have me put down.
Well, let's just say that there are no longer 15 Coffee Crisp bars in the bowl. And leave it at that.
*******************************************************************************
I discovered a sad thing today. I have forgotten the art of shopping-for-self. My husband gave me a 3 hour reprieve from the kids today so I could go to the mall, and by myself a new outfit for our family photo session that's coming up next week. I went there to buy pants, a shirt and some shoes that aren't from circa 1991...and sadly, I came home with a shirt and a pair of gloves for my oldest son, a shirt and a sweater for my middle son, and 2 shirts, a pair of pants and some pyjamas for the baby. That's it. No pants for me. No shirt for me. Definitely no shoes for me. I've forgotten how to shop. Kripes. I think someone should just have me put down.
Take a photo break...
Here's my cutie as a Jersey. Too sweet...bummer he had to miss out on the trick or treating...getting over a bout of pneumonia...but I posed him for the photo op just the same...
Bitchy Moms with Attitude
You know what I hate? Bitchy moms with attitude. By this, I mean mothers who have chosen to bottle feed their babies (with which I have no problem, hell, one of the main reasons I breast feed is because I'm too damned lazy to make up bottles and warm them up at odd hours while my child shrieks with impatience. Easier to just lift a shirt, you know?) and seem disgusted at the whole act of breastfeeding...
"Umm. Yeah, so...just how long are you planning to, you know...I mean, don't you want a life? Breastfeeding is such a burden!"
I mean, by that philosophy, so are kids, but I keep having them, and so does she, right? Kripes, I figure if you can't give up smoking, drinking, or prescription cold meds for a few more months for the sake of a child, at least give it more justification than that it cramps your social life. Let's face it, once you have kids, girls, your days of keggers before curfew should be over!
That being said (whew!) the answer is, I don't know. When I feel like it. When he feels like it. Most likely the first time he gets teeth and I lose a major body part! But I refuse to bow to pressure from these women to wean early for the sake of a girls weekend away.
Ok. Rant over.
Guess I'm a bitchy mom with attitude myself, eh?
"Umm. Yeah, so...just how long are you planning to, you know...I mean, don't you want a life? Breastfeeding is such a burden!"
I mean, by that philosophy, so are kids, but I keep having them, and so does she, right? Kripes, I figure if you can't give up smoking, drinking, or prescription cold meds for a few more months for the sake of a child, at least give it more justification than that it cramps your social life. Let's face it, once you have kids, girls, your days of keggers before curfew should be over!
That being said (whew!) the answer is, I don't know. When I feel like it. When he feels like it. Most likely the first time he gets teeth and I lose a major body part! But I refuse to bow to pressure from these women to wean early for the sake of a girls weekend away.
Ok. Rant over.
Guess I'm a bitchy mom with attitude myself, eh?
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