A Question to Ponder

A question has been brought forward to me. Your comments are desired please:

If Jacques is a female dog, who is not allowed to be referred to as a female, then presumably she is also not allowed to act as a female either. This being the case....how does she pee? Squat like a lady? or the ever popular leg lift like a gentleman? Or is there a third way a confused dog should pee, that will appear to be more unisex in nature?

My Poem about Jacques

Jacques, Jacques, Jacques
How'd you end up with that?
A female dog, brown you may be
With two male owners
(They're gay as can be!)

Gay married men
Not gay as in happy
Seem to hate women
Thinks they are crappy!

They buy a female dog
Whom they promptly name Jacques
And tell their two kids
Without any tact

"Don't call her a girl!"
A she, her or bitch
Don't refer to her as female
(Oh, isn't that rich!)

My question for them
Is only this
Why'd you buy a female
If she can't bring you bliss!

A dog is to love
Not to teach hate
Or treat really nasty
Or to humiliate

She's a GIRL, SHE'S A GIRL!
You can't change that
She's of the female race
On which you have spat.

(I wish dogs had PMS.)

The very end!

Almost the right size

Just a little chocolate to help me deal with 40. I wonder if they make any larger sized bars. Thanks to Kevin (who claims he's only 28 ...HA!) Nancy who will 40 next, Wil, Caleb and Sean.

Invasion of the body switchers

YIKES!

I awoke today to yet another horrific scene! I looked in the mirror this morning and sometime during the night while I was hooking up with the sandman somebody switched my body with this hiddeous creation that couldn't possibly be me!

Greying hair! (well, actually a few strands of white. Strawberry blondes don't actually go grey, they jump right to white.) Wrinkles! Who put those there! What kind of terrible joke was that?Fat and cellulite. Good gracious! (That's the strongest I can say on a family website. Plus I'm not a cursing person being a Christian and all. But I want to say something more like *$%#*7! believe me!) And my memory, I have the memory of a .......what was I talking about again?

At least the perpetrator of these crimes left my fabulous breasts alone. Thank God they didn't drop anymore. I would have had to get one of the kids to help me pick them up off the floor. And what's this I hear about people complaining about their butt dropping? Mine is still in the same place. I guess I'm lucky for that. Everytime it looks like it's going to go south I just eat more and fill it out a bit more. That must keep it in place.

I believe the sick individuals who are the perpetrators of this crime are the very same ones who keep breaking in my house and stealing single socks. (see my May entry on my blog for the description of that crime.) If you have any information about either of these crimes, please forward the information to me. These individuals need to be stopped. Not only do I continue to run low on pairs of socks, but I'm starting to find perpetual aches and pains popping up. These individuals must be stopped before I actually get.....OLD!

The only thing that keeps me going with a stiff upper lip is that many of you have also been through this ahead of me. Your're already old....or at least look it. Even more so than me! (snicker)

P.S. Does anybody know who's bratty kids are living at my house? I wish you'd come and pick them up because they are driving me insane!

Bring it on!

So. I sit here in my cool and comfortable basement. Hidden away from the kids who are currently planted in front of the electronic babysitter learning life lessons from brightly coloured animals and Dora the explorer. Pondering what would be a good activity to do today keeping in mind that the temperature this week will not dip below 30 degrees. The list of activities and my thoughts on each are as follows:

Swimming (outdoors) = sunburns all round for everybody. Do they make sunscreen in a 90? Can everybody say "skin cancer!"

Swimming (indoor pool) = everybody sick after last visit to city pool. At this time of the year the "water" is primarily made up of Urine. I look forward to the yearly maintenance when they actually change it back from a urine bath to a pool.

Beach Park = sunburns, heat stroke, gnats, screaming children, whining about the heat, begging for another 2nd, 3rd and 4th ice cream from the snack bar, sticky children needing to use a public bathroom at the beach park. Sand in their bathing suits, ecoli in the water, imminent infection, round of antibiotics to follow, scraped knees, the obligatory accidental fall by somebody, tears. Yuck!

Biking/walking/running/playing = Heat stroke, sunburn, mom having to walk everybody's bike back because their legs are to hot and tired to go another step further.

Craft (indoors) = mess, fighting over materials which eventually leads to hitting fights, then punching, hair pulling, biting, stabbing, police, white chalk lines and jail for somebody. Appealing.

TV = me sitting in a cool and comfortable basement. Hidden away from the kids who are currently planted in front of the electronic babysitter learning life lessons from brightly coloured animals and Dora the explorer.

There are my choices for today. They've had very busy days since the end of school up 'till now.
Hmmmmm. Decisions, decisions. What to do, yes....what to do.

[Sigh] [guilt sets in] Ok, somebody pass the sunscreen, look out beach park here we come.

Thank you God for the gift of this beautiful day with my children. Many would change places with me in an instant, despite the difficulties that arise during the course of the day. AMEN!

Ode to Baby Powder

Powder white, powder bright
Powder in my nose tonight
Powder here, powder there
Powder floating everywhere!

In the carpet
On the walls
In three rooms
In the halls

Water puddled on the floor
Powder thrown on top
Powder cakes mixed everywhere
When will the madness stop!

Corn starch powder makes great storms
Make believe they are
To a pair of little ones
A whole bottle goes quite far!

Wild puffs of powder spread throughout
A frosty look appears
Covering hair, face and clothes
Collecting in their ears.

Little tiny footprints
Tracking through that "snow"
What ever started this activity
We may never know

Hush now sweetie, it's ok
No need for all those tears
All you need remember is
They'll soon grow up in years

Then you can tell them when they come
With stories of their children
What rotten little kids they were!
And you won't let it soon be forgotten

All kidding put aside
It will soon be something cute
To remember long from now
It certainly was a hoot!

Cough, Cough
The very end.

Another Proud Moment

Another proud moment for me occured for me today, or so I thought. Jessica has learned to brush her teeth on her own. Picture this:

My little angel has accomplished yet another first. She has initiated brushing her teeth alone before bed without being asked. I walked into the bathroom after getting her dressed for bed to find her standing there, battery run electric Veggietales toothbrush in hand with adequate amount of cinnamon toothpaste delicately balanced on top of bristles. She refuses to use the mint toothpaste. Apparently it's too spicy. Plus a girl likes to get that fabulous white smile that occurs with the whitening formula cinnamon toothpaste with the great cinnamon taste. As I walk in the room the end of the toothbrush disappears into my baby's mouth. Bristles twirling and buzzing all the while. I am proud. I am a good mother. In fact, Erin told me the other day that I am the best mother in the world. I think that she may be right! I have taught my daughter the importance of good dental hygiene starting at an eary age. I am truly amazing!

Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.
Proverbs 16:18

Oooooh! When God decides to teach someone a lesson....man, look out!

I see something red and sparkly out of the corner of my eye. Cinnamon toothpaste. Whitening formula for that spectacularly white smile.

Sandi: "Jessica why is there cinnamon toothpaste smeared all over the ENTIRE toilet seat?!"

Jessica: "I rinse my toothbrush there. I put too much on dat brush."

Sandi: "BLAHHHHHHHHH! We don't use the toilet water to rinse our toothbrush in!!!!! That's even more disgusting than when I found you eating your boog today!

def: boog=nasal discharge. Found to be particularily appealing and edible to anyone anyone under 5 years of age. Part of the 5th food group.

Sandi: "We talked about this! We don't use the toilet for washing anything! Not our hands, toys and certainly not our toothbrushes!"

Jessica: giggle, giggle. "Ok, sorry a do dat mom." She continues to brush her teeth.


The lessons that I have learned from this are: that if you really need to be proud of something, don't get carried away. There's proud and then there's top of the universe proud. Secondly, never, ever leave a 2 and a half year old in the bathroom alone. Finally, keep my own toothbrush locked away in the hall closet in case she decides she wants to rinse it for me some day. If she's feeling helpful, she can rinse Daddy's instead.

HAPPY CANADA DAY!