Chocolate Fix

Well, I've finally had my chocolate fix. I lasted through seven days, chocolate free, which was my goal. I wanted to try to avoid chocolate during the week and just indulge in a bit on the weekends, but looking at the pictures from last week that I took, maybe that's not such a good idea. Maybe a small daily dose would be more prudent.

I can't believe I actually dressed up somebody's lawn gnomes like that. What was I thinking! I should have chosen the white crown to go with that colour gnome!

When I "Paint the Town"

When most people "go out and paint the town", it usually involves alcohol and a good time enjoying the company of friends. When I go out and paint the town I do things a little differently. Yes, it did involve going out with a good friend. No, it did not however involve alcohol. It would be hard to tell that I was not drinking, unless you knew me. I did not act as if I was drunk in any way, but "painting the town" did involve walking down a busy strip lined by small shops, busy bars and bustling restraunts. My companion was wearing a crown, and I a set of bunny ears. Easter bunny ears to be exact.

Were you to ask why we would consider doing such a childish thing, you would receive the simple answer, because we could. My companion was wearing it as a symbol of her inner princess and I, on the other hand, have no reasonable explanation as to why I was wearing bunny ears. I don't, to the best of my knowledge have an inner bunny. So, I'll just chalk it up to a sudden lack of chocolate (I made it to seven days! Yeah Baby!)

Now, you would think that a couple of women in their late 30's (I'm being generous as far as my age goes here, seeing as I celebrated the big 40 this summer.) would draw a bit of attention walking down such a street wearing these odd articles of head gear on a busy city street. Oddly enough, in the rougher end of this area, we were unable to attract even a single second glance.

As we ventured further to the "up town" area of the strip, we were able to get the attention that we were expecting among those who were enjoying a bit of liquid pleasure, in the outdoor patio areas of the local bars. We received a few cat calls and a couple of interesting suggestive remarks. Most just assumed that we were headed to a weekend party....never mind that it was only a Thursday night.

We proceeded on to walk one of my favourite middle upper class neighbourhoods, filled with expensive, quaint condos lining a number of small narrow streets. Expensive landscaping noted throughout each and every lot. At least... all but one. One lonely little lot in this sub-division filled with exuberently priced show pieces. On this block, sits a small gem. The reason for our travels this night. A green grassy front lawn no bigger than two car widths, and one car legnth. What interest could we possibly have walking this distance to find such a small bare uninspired place? I will tell you what! Lawn ornaments. Tacky little lovable characters that were begging to fit into this high class condo paradise. How, you ask, could two nutty ladies with a crown and bunny ears respectively, turn a lawn gnome and dog statue into upper class works of art, so that they could feel a part of this community? Well, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. So that's why I included one. (or two.)

I can't wait to see what we do on our next ladies night out!

Day Five and Barely Alive

Ugggg!

It's day five of my chocolate free existence. I am not finding that the cravings are so bad that I can't stand it. My problem exists in the fact that my memory and brain function have all but ceased.

I was out in the park with neighbours I have known for a number of years. They were a sea of nameless faces. I couldn't remember their names, those of their furry friends or even the names of my own children for that matter. At least not correctly.

I am finding it amusing, looking back, at how these people reacted to my absence of brain power. I explained to them why I was having problems, and they were very kind as to assist me in any way possible. This became very amusing when I was having trouble searching for appropriate words to finish an idea in a discussion. Anyone looking out at us from the adjoining homes, would have seen a small intimate group of people playing a game of charades in the park with dogs dodging in and out of the circle. The excitement was visible upon each correct guess of a word. This would result in a loud yes being yelled out and the applause that would ultimately follow.

I could feel the empathy emitting from all and after a while just gave up trying to form sentences because I could see how painful it was for them to watch me stumble through another thought. Quick one or two word answers were what seemed to work best.

Eventually, by the time the sun had started to slip down under the pinkish orange horizon, my kind neighbours had started fumbling for words themselves. Calling their own dogs the name of their spouse or child. Funny how something like that becomes contageous. I have managed to make them all uncomfortable in their own speech patterns and thought processes. Well, all except for one person.

This one person, (oh, let's call him Ron...) decided it would be more helpful to lecture me on the evils of chocolate, especially milk chocolate, and how could I have possibly been eating so much as for it to have this kind of affect on me upon trying to give it up. He obviously isn't living in a household with One working husband, four children, two fish and one very big shedding white dog. If he were, maybe he would be struggling with this addiction too! Or possibly even something worse.

Were only they open 24 hours a day....

Ahhh! September. It's a fresh beginning to yet another school year. A time to start over with renewed hopes of a successful year in the ongoing acedemic journey of children. A time to indulge oneself in the fantasy of remaining organized and finding endless enjoyment in learning all throughout the year.

This is also the time of year that librarians and library technicians alike enjoy almost as much as Christmas! A time to embark upon a journey of ultimate importance.... Shopping for school supplies for their tiny wards ! After all, what self respecting library geek doesn't feel the magnetic pull of the nearest "Staples" or "Grand and Toy" calling them in. They don't even have to buy anything to achieve that euphoric high. Like a drug addict getting a fix, the bibliomaniac can obtain their pleasure from the smell alone of the stationery supplies. The fresh crisp sound of plastic wrap so tightly wound around a perfectly stacked block of "400 sheets" lined loose leaf paper. Pre-sharpened coloured pencils in a perfectly undented box with sharp square corners. Sticky notes, exsensive as they are, even bring pleasure, in their blocks of varying colours and sizes. Oooh! I get shivers just imagining it!

Luckily for me I have kids. I have a reason to actually buy these coveted items. Well, actually, it's not so much that I have a reason, as I have an excuse. I know I've taken to buying items that my 6 year old could not possibly be requiring in grade one. After all what 6 year old is allowed to use pens or white out in class, not to mention a package of business card sheets for our printer. And lets not mention the solar calculator that she just had to have to figure out her ever difficult grade 1 addition and subtraction questions.

My only regret is that these palaces of joy aren't open 24 hours a day. Grocery stores are in many a city, why aren't stationary shops? I guess we can't have everything in life. It's not a perfect world after all. Maybe someone could work on a fragrance for the home that smells like these heavenly places. It could be called, "Ode to September, new beginnings."

Coming soon.

Blueberry T's and Tye Dyed Floors

This is your mission, should you choose to accept it:

One of our agents is in need of backup daycare assistance while carrying out her mission. Your job will be to entertain and care for, two three year olds females and provide adequate, stimulating activities for the course of an entire day. You are to play the part of "Super Mom." A difficult role to pull off but, this is an important one. Don't blow it.

This message will be covered in grape jelly and butter in five seconds.


Well, guess what....I chose to accept it. Madison always eagerly anticipated the arrival of one of her favourite friends, oh, let's call her Bailey....since I never use real names on the blog. Madison could hardly sit still. She kept asking me what time it was. Well actually she kept saying "Mom, one sleep is gone....is it time for Bailey to come over?" Her equivalent to "hey lady, you got the time?"

The exciting, long anticipated moment had arrived. Bailey is finally here. She comes fully equiped with bathing suit, a picnic lunch, benadryl and epi-pen. (She is allergic to peanuts.)

After a hesitant and upsetting good-bye, for the mother only, they are off like a shot. So many toys to play with....so much time.

The day goes smoothly. Too smoothly. Well, except for the fact that Bailey is terrified of Blue, our Labrador Retriever. Also, she was afraid of the frequent visits in the back yard from the squirrels. They are used to being fed their meals of peanuts at various times throughout the day. It was lunchtime and they were hungry. She believed these viscious little rodents were attempting to kill her with peanuts I guess. I patiently explained why they were visiting and that she need not worry, there were no peanuts in the yard at present. I taught her how to scare them away by tossing a toy in their direction. Luckily she didn't take any of them out. I had just started relaxing my anxiety riddled brain. "Mom" would soon be here. The other kids would soon be home from school, and I, Supermom and hostess, would no longer find the need to follow my little twosome around making sure that they had activities aplenty to stimulate and entertain.

Hmmm. We hadn't done a craft yet. I had planned on doing one, and decided that tye dye t-shirts would be the craft au jour. I was after all "supermom." Surely I could handle that.

We headed to the kitchen, t-shirts and Rit dye in hand. I had sent them out to the flower/rock garden to bring some nice rocks that we could tie into the shirts to make them more interesting. This was also to aid them in feeling like they were assisting me in the wonderous creation of these little masterpieces. After all, there was no way I was letting them anywhere near the boiling hot dye mixture.

"Sandra" Bailey says while tugging at my shirt.
"Bailey...remember it's Sandi, not Sandra." I said this for about the 10th time that day.
"[giggle, giggle, giggle] No. Sandra," She repeats again while attempting to stretch my shirt to my knees."
"I hate that name! Remember honey, it's Sandi" I say while turning back to my duties.
"Sandra, Sandra, Sandra, Sandra....I don't want to get rocks."
"That's ok then. Go ahead and sit down with the elastics and wait for Madision to come back with some rocks."

I'm so glad that I picked an activity that I knew they would so thouroughly enjoy.

We managed to make it though the activity without incident. The final rinse had just finished and the grand unveiling was about to occur. I quickly removed the elastics while trying to keep the attention of my two little playmates. I was excited. This would be spectacular. I could just imagine them proudly modelling their new creations to friends and family alike. "I made this shirt with Sandra!" I mean "Sandi."

"Tada!" I holler with a wide smile spreading across my face.

Silence follows. Madison turns to play with a toy she has brought into the room. Bailey stares. Finally she looks up and me and states,

"I won't wear that. It's wet."
I reply "I know sweetie, but it will dry soon and then you'll be able to wear it."
"But it looks like blueberries fell on it." I know this is her way of telling me "hey woman, you expect me to wear a shirt that looks like I've just spilled my dessert all over it? You crazy or somethin'?"

Well, luckily for me a retort is not required. The school bus arrives home with a fresh group of friends to play with. Three older kids of varying ages arrive noisily with news of their day.

"Oooooh! Tye dye! Can I do one?" my oldest daughter requests.
Still stunned by the less than enthusiastic response from my little guest, I reply, "Sure. Extra t-shirts are downstairs. Pick one in your size."

Again we go through the steps of creating a tye dyed shirt. This time I am more careless. Still stinging from the blow I had received earlier and therefore not concentrating on the activity at hand and the individual I was performing it with. I splash a spot on my face with the still hot dye. This brings me around enough to realize what horrible thing I have just done. I have agreed to make tye dye t-shirts with my oldest daughter, oh, let's call her Elsie.

Let me explain a little bit about Elsie. She's a combination of Mr Bean meets Frank Spencer from Some Mothers do 'Ave 'Em. A little heavier on the Frank Spencer side perhaps. And I can't believe that I've just asked her to pick up the two pails of dye and place them on the floor.

I hold my breath. I didn't want to, upon coming to my senses, startle her in any way. I also didn't want to destroy her feelings of self worth by letting her know I thought she'd bungle this up. I felt every movement the pail took in the thumping heartbeats in my chest, occationally interupted by palpitations. First one bucket makes it down. I decide the only thing I could do was to let her continue. The second bucket slowly makes it down. What took only a matter of second to complete felt like an eternity to my now damp and sweaty body.

Relief floods over me as we unravel our work to see what genious we have created, together. I may be Supermom after all. My daughter is enjoying this. A large toothy smile is now spreading across her face as she is perched on a chair beside me as we rinse out the excess dye.

"Tada!" I say, only this time to an appreciative audience. I am wonderful. I am the best there is. I am Supermom! At least with the older children.

Now in a previous blog entry I quoted a verse. I didn't stop to remember this verse before starting this activity, when perhaps I should have. I will post it once again for those of you who are new readers:

Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.

Proverbs 16:18

To bad I didn't remember this verse first!

Elsie's beautiful glowing face, with beaming smile glances over at me as steps down backwards off of the chair she has been standing on. She steps onto the edge of one of the dye filled buckets she so carefully placed on the floor not 5 minutes earlier, knocking the entire bucket over spilling deep violet Rit dye all over the kitchen floor. I watch in horror as it spreads like a colourful wave of doom and destruction under the stove, splashing the cupboards, stove, and walls in it's wake.

Elsie looks up at me. That beautiful beaming smile fading. Standing in a pool of purple dye when she says, "My foot is purple! Do you see that! My leg is purple too! Wow, cool!"

I now am the proud owner of purple dyed (called violet on the box) towels. I couldn't possibly use paper towels to clean such an immense amount of fluid.

You know, it's all worth it though in the long run. My daughter is excited about her new shirt. She was disappointed when it wasn't yet dried this morning and she couldn't wear it. Even Madison seems happy to be wearing her new shirt. I wonder if Bailey minds wearing her blueberry shirt?

What did I learn from this activity you may ask? Three things:

1.)Perhaps a more age appropriate craft can be planned for the next visit of our little friend.

2.)When we renovate our kitchen this winter....no tye dying in the kitchen!

3.)Vim thick bleach is wonderful! And in the ever popular phrase of that oh so annoying American entertainment diva Martha Stewart, "And that's a good thing!"

The very end. Thank God!

Grand Central Station aka The Bathroom

School has started. I find it difficult not to enjoy the thrill of a potent rush of adrenaline and break out in a case of the giggles every time the realization of this hits me once again. As excited as I am that my children are once again happily and snuggly tucked into a routine, it does have it's drawbacks. Many of these revolve around my bathroom, first thing in the morning. This morning was a prime example of that.

I arose--groggy--after only about 5 1/2 hours of restless sleep. I have not yet altered my bedtime routine to adjust to these new earlier mornings. When I went to bed, there were only two of us there. Sometime during the night, one more wee, itty-bitty, small, tiny little body found it's way into the bed. I stress the point here about the size of this little person--because as small as this little one may be--she takes up approximately 75 percent of the bed...give or take a couple of percent. I was feeling a bit....pretzel like.

I dragged myself to the bathroom. Relishing the thought of enjoying a quiet 10 minutes or so soaking in a hot tub before the start of a fast paced day. Enoying some quiet and solitude.....(you know where I'm going with this don't you!) When the first of my barbaric invaders slammed into the locked door, begging for attention. Luckily for me the dog doesn't have a set of opposable thumbs. He wasn't able to pick the lock to let himself into the room. Even if it weren't locked, I doubt very much that he's figured the door knob out yet. I wasn't taking any chances though.

Relieve flooded over me as I sunk slowly back into the blissfully warm tub, allowing the healing waters to wash soothingly over me.

Boom!

Barbaric invader number two had arrived. Just in time too. I was actually feeling the tension starting to melt away. We couldn't have that now could we.

Barbaric invader #2: "Mom, Megan said the F word!"
Cranky Mother: "Which F word is that? !" (yes, yes, I thought I had some idea of what that F word might be, but I just wanted to make sure before somebody got punished.)
Barbaric invader #2:"Friggin'"
Cranky Mother: "I'm in the friggin' tub trying to have a bath! I'll deal with it later!"

Ok. Now that I've solved that one, I'm noticing that the tension is taking a little bit longer to fade away this time. I don't even believe that I got to actually finish this thought before barbaric invader #3 entered the picture.

Rattle, rattle, rattle, BOOM!

Barbaric Invader #3: "Why's the door locked?! I have to use the bathroom."
Cranky Mother: "One guess."
Barbaric Invader #3: "But I have to use the bathroom, NOW."
Cranky Mother: "Luckily we have two. Go downstairs."
Barbaric Invader #3: "But I don't like that bathroom!"

Unfortunately barbaric invader #3 does have opposable thumbs and knows how to jimmy the lock.

Why is it that these people feel so comfortable around me that they can sit down in full view of where I'm soaking and feel absolutely no embarrassment at relieving themselves of every possible fluid, solid or gas that happens to be awaiting escape from their bodies? And since they have no inhibitions, can actually enjoy attempting to carry on a conversation all the while.

I was sitting in shocked disbelief and denial at what was happening in full view of where I soaked. "If I close my eyes and pretend not to hear, everything will be ok" I thought to myself. "If I hold my breath and pretend I can't smell, everything will be ok."

Drip, plop, crumble, drop (it's not what you think.)

Ah yes, I see invader number 4 and 5 have arrived to join in the fray! Just in time too! Wonderful.

Irrate Mother: "No eating muffins in the bathroom! That's gross! You're dropping crumbs in my water, and can't you see your sister is using the toilet! That's disgusting!"

Two invaders quietly exit without argument or complaint. They can't mutter a word, their mouths are full.

Well....finally, all of the barbaric intruders have finally left. I believe I can finish my now tepid bath with some peace since I have been visited by all of the kids, and even the dog. I hear a light tapping at the door, as a balding head cautiously peaks into the room.

"You don't mind if I shave while you're bathing do you?

Is it any wonder that I haven't adjusted my schedule yet? 10:00pm to 1:30am is the only time I have to think an uninterupted thought. That is the only blissfully quiet time of the day when all of the barbarians are asleep! (Yes, that includes the big bald guy and the short furry one too.)

Yes, we love our families, but have you ever wondered why God has provided us with the gift of a requirement of 8 hours of sleep a night? And why children need more? Any thing less would be uncivilized.

p.s. this blog entry was written a bit quickly. The barbarians are at the gate arguing again...on with the fray!

I am inspired

I have upon writing my previous entry, inspired myself to attempt to once again, decrease my chocolate intake. I attempt this feat without the assistance of any kind of a chocolate substitute. No cocoa patches, hypnosis, cocoa addiction gum, overeating other things in it's place.....

12:20am: I have not eaten chocolate in approximately 15 minutes. (give or take a few.) There is a slight tremor in my left hand, and my stomach is gurgling, but I can handle the withdrawl so far.

12:22am: I find myself thinking about the texture of the peanuts in the chocolate I ate earlier. Rolling around my tongue, gentley being carressed by smooth melting chocolate. So sweet! So satisfying.

12:23am: Crap. I'm having palpitations. The only fighting chance I have is if I go to bed and hope I don't get up during the night and sleep-eat. I've been known to do that where chocolate is concerned. Night, Night.

Slave to the Cocoa Bean

I was at a baby shower this afternoon. It was a wonderful event. Lovely to see everybody, incredible food, gorgeous mother to be. My only question is why is it that I insist on gorging myself until I feel like I am carrying a little one of my own? It doesn't matter how much I have promised myself before the actual event that I "will not go near the dessert table under any circumstances," I always land up sampling, no... cross that out, inhaling large quantities of food, particularily dessert! I have issues with chocolate (if you haven't figured that out by now, well....I hate to say it, but you're just stupid!) What would it take to keep me away from the chocolate? (aside from diabetes, or falling into a comatos state) I'll let you know if I ever figure that out. In the mean time I'll continue to make promises that, like so many New Years Resolutions, will continue to fall by the wayside. I am however, secure in the knowledge that though I have not yet met a chocolate I didn't like, one of these days I will. It is at this time I will be freed from the iron grip of that oh so horrible slave master....the cocoa bean.

Winter's Amost Here

Ahhh! The good old days! In this sweltering heat of temperatures in the 30's celsius range with the humidity, doesn't this look refreshing! Doesn't Blue look excited, frolicking in the fresh powdery snow like a puppy.

Don't worry sweeties! Soon you too will be enjoying these long sought after frigid days. Sitting firmly in the grasp of winters' loooong icy months. In two months or so, this unbearably hot summer will be all but a distant unpleasant memory to look back and reflect upon.

"You can't make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you're doing is recording it."

Art Buchwald quotes (American Journalist, b.1925)


Translation: The world is going to H-E-Double Hockey sticks in a hand basket!

Late Night Walk

In the past few years I have decided to work on the improvement of all the different parts that make up me. Unfortunately I haven't been able to get them all whipped into shape at the same time. When I am physically fit, I am spiritually depressed and mentally derranged. When I grew closer to God, and managed to get my brain chemically stable, I grew a pot and added 15lbs. Now I'm back to square one and am trying to catch my body up with my spirit and mental capacity. This is not going as smoothly as I had hoped. First I have to realize that I am not the person who I once was.

Being the busy parent that I am, it is often quite late at night before I have been able to get out to exercise. It is not unusual to find me wandering the streets, earphones plugged into my head, at 10:00 at night. This has lead to some nervous walks, as I often hear in the news how the gangs are raging in this end of town at all hours. At least I assume it's at night, since I don't see them spray painting during the daylight hours.

Watching various diverse groups of people collecting throughout my route to socialize, was unnerving to say the least. Especially when I would come across a group that contained all young males or the odd single male walking suspiciously alone.

I started to ask myself, was I doing anything that would/could make me a target to any of these groups? Was there anything here that would cause them to swarm me? Was I just so darn sexy that I'd get hit on when walking past? Here's what I came up with. See what you think:

List of items that would make me an irrisistable target to young men along my walking route.

*I'm 40. Strawberry blonde with white highlights.
*AT LEAST 15lbs overweight (which is the equivalent to 30lbs in my doctors opinion I'm sure.)
*Hair is starting to grown on my chin....oh baby! That's hot!
*I'm wearing an extra large baggy t-shirt with dirty little handprints all over the back. Most of them are on my butt. I still don't know how or why, I have no knowlege of anyone grabbing me there, but they are there. Like crop circles. A mystery.
*I'm wearing clothes that were in fashion when I first bought them about 10 years ago. Except the new pants, which are the low waisted ones. I like this new fashion! My waistband can fall beneath my bulging waistline!
*I'm carrying the latest in technology. A walkman. Ok. It was the latest in technology when my husband bought it for me about 13 years ago.
*Orthopaedic shoes
*Control top underwear
*Acne

Ok. Maybe I was kidding about the shoes and underwear, but the rest pretty much fits. I started to realize along my walk, that I'm old. I'm old and unattractive! And I am not up to current geek standards as far as technology goes. I don't even have an ipod for goodness sakes. Everybody and their dog has one of those.

I'm getting to that age where personality matters. That means I'm going to have to start to be nice to people, even when I'm having PMS. Ewww! Looks aren't something that can get me by anymore! (Not that I ever had them in abundance to start with, but now they are becoming even more fleeting!) I'm not ready to be that nice yet!

Well, since I'm not carrying a purse, or up to date electronics, I suppose I'm safe. Unless the nursing homes up the street have let loose their 90 year old gang bangers. I may still be somewhat attractive to them, considering what they have to work with.

Oddly enough, my husband worries if my walk goes on a bit longer than expected. I don't know what he thinks might happen to me. At first I thought this sweet until I realized the true reason that he is worried is that if something happens to me he doesn't know a single thing about kids fashion. The last time I went out of town overnight I came back to find the children hadn't brushed their hair or teeth all day and were wearing mismatched clothes most of which weren't even for the correct season. He'd have to care for the kids alone. This scares him. I can tell by the look of relief when I finally walk through that door!

I sure do hope that in end times when I get my new body that it doesn't look as old as it looks now! What a way to spend eternity!

"Ah, good taste--What a dreadful thing! Taste is the enemy of creativeness."
Pablo Picasso quotes (Spanish Artist and Painter. 1881-1973)

New Look for Winter for the Whole Family

What guy wouldn't feel like alpha dog with this fabulous new creation....the winter diaper doggie hat




And every owner can be just as "cool" in this all new pull-up hat with matching diaper scarf. Get them while supplies last! We have only a limited supply of clean ones left.

"Isabelle the Diaper Head" Sung to the Sponge Bob square pants theme song

Oh...................
I went for a walk with Isabelles Mom
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head
We went for a coffee, for the soul it's a balm
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head

Her dad was there too, he rode on his bike
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head
His bike was gas powered, a thing we disliked!
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head

We drank lots of coffee, ate desserts off the floor
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head
We told crazy stories and then told some more
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head

We laughed till we cried, then finally we left
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head
It was cold outside, but her mom's really deft
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head

She used a clean diaper, a cloth one it was
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head
To keep her head warm, since she has only peach fuzz
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head

Her mom put it on well, it looked really nice
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head
A lovely new bonnet at such a cheap price
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head

And now down the street the four of us went
Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head
It's one of the nicest evenings that I've ever spent
With Isabelle, Isabelle the diaper head

bow
exit stage left here

Happy Friday

"What garlic is to food, insanity is to art"
Augustus Saint-Gaudens

Translation: You're breath stinks when you eat food with garlic in it, and you're art stinks when you're insane.

Thursday

Extended piano lesson full of laughter and fun
with a patient instructor. Meeting with a
friend for coffee and a stroll through
Westboro. Window shopping in quaint
shops along the way. Watching a
toddler explore her surround-
ings and testing her limits.
More fun. Stress melts away. RELAXATION
I love Thursday's.
Happy day.

Find Me!

I'll just hide beside this tree
If I can't see her
Then she can't see me!

If I don't look
Then she'll go away
And that would really make my day!

Prarie Dog Tired

I used to be on the top
But now I'm on the bottom
If I had a little more energy
Maybe I would have fought 'um

A Day in the Life of Four Kids...Rolled into One

Hmmmm......
What can I do, do with my day?
I have one ahead of me
To work, sleep or play

I think I'll sleep late.
At least until 9
Then I'll get up
And on chocolate I'll dine!

My Mother won't know
As I sneak to her jar
Of dark chocolate chips
They aren't up very far

Once I am done
I'll go bother my sisters
I'll punch, poke, and spit
Till they break out in blisters

Then what should I do
Hmmm.....what to do next
I'll bug them some more
By now mom's getting vexed

Off to my cousins',
Where we like to play!
We like to use powder
Rooms have a fragrant bouquet!

Now time for more fighting
Slapping I think
Or playing with water
In the bathroom sink

Next I'll break a chair
A custom made one works best
To get the best reaction
[giggle] the parents looked stressed!

And because kids are kids
(This one was not planned)
I'll break an heirloom vase
Oh! Wasn't that just grande!

Now Mom's face is red
I think she might blow
She's about at her limit
It's soon time to go!

Now for the grand finale!
A stunt to impress!
My young cousins' daddy
Mom draws a lady with no dress

Well actually, my mom
She only drew boobs!
On the daddy's desktop
My mom's such a rube!

She used permanent black marker
She said they were eyes
And that they went through the paper
(I think they were lies)

What is that, that you say?
It's now time to leave?
You say you're embarrased?
With all we've achieved?

Out the door we go
We may not come back
Even if invited
We'll decline with some tact

Just another day
A normal one for me
I like to explore my limits
I like to be free

To do what I want
To do what pops into my head
From the first thing in the morning
Until it's finally time for bed

The very end

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRISTA

Happy birthday toooo you
Happy birthday toooo you
You're the craziest chick I know
Happy birthday toooo you!

Love PerpetualChocoholic

Dust Doggies

Hi all. Anyone know how to build a rabbit hutch? I just took a look under my bed again, and feel I am fighting a loosing battle. The dust bunnies breed quicker than real rabbits. I've decided I've had enough. They win. I figure if I put them in a hutch, maybe they will contain themselves to that confined space and I can pull it out every once in a while without having to clean everywhere under my bed. I actually think though that "dust bunnies" is not the proper term to use to describe what I have. I have no bunnies shedding in my house. I do however have a dog. A large yellow furry shedding dog frequenting my bedroom space. So technically speaking....I have dust doggies under my bed. I wonder if a leash might be a more appropriate choice, that being the case. Before you ask....no I am not bored, high or on any sort of mind altering drug. Medication yes. Drugs no. (Does chocolate count as a drug?)

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!

First Day of Summer Holidays for the Kids

The long anticipated time has finally arrived for school aged children. Summer vacation. As a stay at home parent at the end of the first day I have only one question. How many days until September?

Summer Solstice

Welcome to the longest day of the year....tomorrow on the 21st. Thank you God! I remember a time when I used to look forward to those long hazy days with extended daylight hours. Sitting out at 9:20 pm watching the sunset with a cup of steaming tea. Mosquitos munching all the while, getting their fill of me. Now I am just constantly looking for new ways to explain to my kids why it's bed time even though it's light outside. I am running out of explanations. It seems that a two year old is just not willing to accept that though it is light outside, it is bedtime. Each night while explaining about the legnthening of the days she just laughs and says "that's silly.... it's not bedtime!" How does one explain to an individual who is so short of years and experiences and is still passing through her years of infantile amnesia that the legnthening of days is a normal occurance at this time of the year. What, after all, is a year? She describes things which have happend earlier in the day, week and month as "last night". Her favoured description of the passing of time.
My dog on the other hand is acutely aware of time. He know that Saturday is "pancake day" and greets me at the stove bright and early as soon as I arise. Running back and forth from bowl to stove excitedly when I enter the kitchen. He knows bed time snack time and each and every walk time down to the very second it habitually takes place. He knows the very important hour when he must greet the school bus each week day so that he can perform his very important task of peeing on the tire. He knows the time of the year when he has to go to the vet for shots and a check up. No matter how hard I try, he always figures out that the car ride isn't a normal pleasure trip, but is one that will end in prodding and a needle or two. I only have to show my dog something twice before it becomes part of his routine. Whether it's something he likes or not.
I am convinced that deep down my kids internal clocks also alert them to the passing of time. They just choose to turn away from the cues and fight bedtime, looking for any loophole that they can find.
Enjoy the longest day of the year....June 21st and parents be glad. The days of having to explain why it's bedtime are quickly winding down.

Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Brain Gone

Oh where, oh where has my little brain gone
Oh where, oh where can it be?
I just turned my head
YES, that's what I said
And now it's been stolen from me!

Oh where, oh where has my little brain gone
Oh where, oh where can it be
It's not that you'd find
All that much in my mind
Or that theres much of a difference in me.

Oh where, oh where has my little brain gone
Oh where, oh where can it be
It just took up space
But kept my hair in place
Beneath my skull can't you see?

Oh where, oh where has my little brain gone
Oh where, oh where can it be
I just want it back
I'm not giving you flak
I just want it returned back to me

the very end

Another Day Another Dollar

Well, gid'ay all. Another day, another ...... wait! That's right! I don't work for a living. I'm a stay at home mom. I have no relevant job! At least I don't according to our government. My services could be better provided by somebody else in an institution where there are a large number of children gathered together like sheep. The shepherds of these flocks of children can then assimilate them into the Liberal fold. Vote for the Paul Martin government. They can all be trained to be "politically correct" and remove God from their vocabulary. Only then when this is done can I go out and find work at a real job where I can make a small salary that the government can take most of and use to supplement their own questionable activities all in the name of "It's what Canadians want." The worst part of this is that it can all be done with the blessings of much of the Canadian population. To do anything else would be scary! Because the alternative is a party with a hidden agenda. Ooooh! scary!

For Sale

For Sale. One small, grey gelatinous 1965 female brain. Rarely used. Almost like new. Perfect for any imbecile, idiot or brainless person looking to upgrade only slightly. (Perfect for any man.) Comes fully equipped with extrordinary olfactory capabilities, mother's intuition, chocolate location monitor, and GPS best deal locator. Ability to tune out external stimuli is supurb. All offers will be considered.

Dogmometer

Animals are always a good indicator of what the weather outside is like. Even better than the weather network or forcasters. (Ooooh! that's real hard!) Today was no exception. At a temperature of 31 degrees (yes, that's celcius....and no, it didn't melt the igloos up here in Canada.) with a humididex of 37, my dog excitedly walked out the door, turned and promptly walked right back in again. That's when you know it's hot.
I can tell when a thunderstorm is coming too. If I look out and see my dog shaking like a leaf with tail between his legs I know theres a big one coming and one should run for cover!
My plants are still sitting in their containers, wilted and neglected looking. How else are they supposed to look still potted on June the 6th with this heat. What ever happend to spring? I think I must have missed it when I blinked. Complain as I must, I am however glad that we at least have sun. I can work on my sun burn.

How hot is too hot?

I hate to be one to complain....(snicker) but could you please tell me how one is supposed to even attempt to adjust to going from soggy, dripping wet, chilly days that force one to dress is Autumn attire to "please don't wear your thong around your yard where we (the neighbours) can see you. And by the way, where is your bikini top? Is butt floss an appropriate bathing suit for a woman of your age and ample build?"

Ok. So I don't really own a thong....that I'm willing to admit to. And I do have a shirt and bra on. (otherwise my boobs would be banging on my knee caps. I hate when that happens!) But we were stuck in the house because of the rain. Now we are stuck in the house because my wee ones are burning even with sun screen on.

definition: wee ones=children. (get your mind off my chest)

OK, OK. I know! I asked for the heat. I just wished a few days of 22 degrees or so had come first to prepare me for the transition. I could have had all of my planting done so that I'm not crisping while doing it. I am after all fair skinned.

definition: Fair skinned=ghostly pale with ugly brown splotchy freckles and moles covering
every spare mm of ones body. (Ooooh! how lovely! Nothing's more attractive than a native born, naturally strawberry blonde Canadian, eh?)

I fully expect to develop skin cancer in the next couple of years or so.

Have a fabulous day. Enjoy the sun while it lasts. The way the weather has been this year, I expect we will soon be seeing snow.

P.S. Is there such a thing as a thong with a control top for that belly bulge?

Ode to Mosquitos

I love mosquitos
Mosquitos, mosquitos everywhere
I love mosquitos
In my eyes, up my nose, in my hair

I love mosquitos
They are faithful through and through
To their most important calling
A blood sucking annoyance to you

I love mosquitos
And their itchy bite
Itchy, itchy scratching
Scratch with all your might

I love mosquitos
I breed them in my yard
Small pools of stagnant water
It isn't very hard!

I love mosquitos
I wish they were around all year
'Cause when they finally peter out
I find I shed a tear

I love mosquitos
Though not as much as you
And so I'm willing to send them all
With their larvae too

I love mosquitos
When they are at YOUR house
Please feel free to keep them
And share them with your spouce

My Spring

It's that time of the year that I mentally prepare for from the first hard frost of Autumn when everything melts into a mushy pile of rotting plant matter. May 25th ish. Planting time. The fragrant smell of lilacs and fresh loamy soil. The neighbours sticking their heads outside of their houses for longer than it takes to run from a heated car to the house. The sound of gentle rain tapping on the roof tops, followed by a warming sun drying out the puddles. Planting a wide array of rainbow coloured flowers of varying types and blooming seasons. Eagerly awaiting the time when their beauty can adorn my kitchen table. Vegetables planted in anticipation of fresh flavours bursting in our mouths at harvest time. Yes, this is my usual Spring.

This year things just haven't had the same appeal. Is it me or are there others out there feeling the same way? I look at the soil and think, it stinks. Mud, mud and more mud everywhere. But HEY! at least the grass is green! Doggie doo's litter my lawn and don't seem to be picking themselves up. A crowded market place makes parking difficult. (Ya right! you expect me to take public transit with a load of plants?!) Bug's crawling up my arms and legs as I find few places to sit that don't contain an ant hill. (That also includes inside of my house? Only here the ants are just shopping for dinner.) Smooshed worms littering my driveway after the continual downpours of this Spring. Sun? What's that? Rainbow of coloured flowers? My daughter picked the first totally black viola's I have seen in my entire life? Hmmm....where were these gems hiding previous years? I can't see my vegetable garden soil through the weeds. They came up faster than dinner on a rollercoster! (ooooh! that's a pleasant image.) My tacky lawn ornaments and furniture have yet to be dragged out so it can be used for all of 2 months at best, if it stops raining long enough to sit outside. That's worth the effort!

Do I want winter back?....HECK NO!
Do I want more rain?......What do you think?

Bring on the sun! It's time for some pleasant Spring rituals again.

Down to 10 single socks

Woo Hoo! I'm down from 13 to 10 single socks.

Switcharoo trick

WARNING!

Be on the lookout for the individual or individuals who are responsible for the following crimes:

Switch-a-roo and the great sock caper
I awoke this morning to find that somebody had switched my sweet lovely children with horrible chocolate stealing, tantrum throwing, talking back evil ones who's sole purpose in life is to plot my downward spiral into insanity.
I know they are sneaking chocolate because the evidence is on their faces. I know they are throwing tantrums, because I am watching them. I know they are talking back because I am on the receiving end. I know they are trying to drive me insane, because that is what is happening. Their plan is working.
I also believe the same indiviual or individuals is guilty of sneaking socks out of the clothes basket when coming to switch my children with the afore mentioned ones. If you are reading this and you are the perpetrator of this horrific crime, please have the decency to at least come back and take the second sock of every pair. I am now up to 13 socks without a mate. (yes, I actually counted them.) I can't bare to do the laundry any more. I am afraid of what I might find. What's next....putting holes in all the underwear! Or how about for a jolly good laugh....no, no, I won't give you any further ideas.

Description of suspect(s):
*Will be driving a mini-van or other appropriate vehicle equiped with a large number of car and booster seats. Possibly with a dvd player or other form of entertainment if they are going any great distance. Ample number of cup holders for juice boxes and sippy cups.
*Likes to get interrogated while driving.
*Loves to listen to great musical hits like "the wheels on the bus" and "Old MacDonald." over and over and over again while driving. Does not find Bob the tomato or Larry the cucumber's voice annoying.
*Is one-legged.
*Has some fashion sense. Doesn't want to wear two socks from the same pair for fear someone might think they are wearing the same thing twice in a row.
*A great master-mind capable of scheming to come up with multiple diabolical plots to be carried out simultaneously.
*loves sweet, smart, creative, loving, caring, helpful, perfect children.
*Is a sick individual in need of some serious help.

I implore you to be on the lookout for the perpetrator(s) of these crimes. I am hoping that this crime can be solved before it is too late! I am running out of socks.

Thank you

Perpetual Chocoholic

So you think you're a chocoholic?

I am aware that being a chocolate lover is nothing new. The question I ask is how much chocolate do you have to eat to consider yourself a chocoholic? I know for a fact that I eat enough. How about you?

Signs you know that you are a serious chocoholic:

*Your faceprints, fingerprints and drool are smeared all over the Laura Secord's display case at the mall.

*People are starting to complain about the smell of chocolate perpetually on your breath despite the time of the day.

*You sleep walk to the chocolate jar sometime during the night. You know this because you awaken to melted chocolate on your hands and face and a scattering of chocolate chips on the sheets and floor beside the bed. (And you're fairly sure your significant other hasn't brought it to you in their sleep.)

*You have a chocolate jar. It's a big one. A really, really, large, takes up lots of cupboard space, kinda big one.

*Your chocolate chip cookies are made with more chocolate than cookie. And you like it that way!

*You know the phone number off by heart of the nearest chocolate factory that gives tours.

*You get the shakes if you haven't had your chocolate fix before 11am. And you know that no other type of caffeine will do!

*When people mention your name, they associate you with chocolate.....every time.

*You get offended if someone offers you something vanilla instead. (They should know you better than that!)

*You send your kids out at Halloween in hopes that they will get loads of chocolate. You then sneak it out of their bag when they are at school and hope they don't notice that it's missing. (hehehe!)

*While most human bodies are made from mostly water, yours has converted to mostly chocolate. Inevitable.

*If you stopped eating chocolate the industry would notice. People would loose their jobs, Cocoa growers would be in dire straits....(ok, now I'm getting a little silly. But you get the picture.)