All Gussied Up and Gnome Where to Go!

Well, once again it's that time of the year when Thursday evening coffee, post piano lessons, with Adventurer means dragging our hibernating butts out of the cozy Wintertime cafe seats out into the warm Springtime streets to be let loose on the neighbourhood with a decaf coffee to go. (Could you imagine me with caffiene after all?)

Usually a legnthy walk would be in order. Tonight however, still recuperating from various Wintertime ailments, we decided to drive to my favourate little spot.

A little village in the city. High end condos with one lovely little place sporting a lawn gnome and daschund statue on their postage size lot. Now when I see this little gem amoung the pristine professionally manicured postage stamp sized lots, barely big enough to fit a lawn chair....I think that these individuals have personality! They have a sense of humour! They have two middle ageish female ornament stalkers decorating their lawn ornaments for the numerous holidays for just shy of a year now. Do we know them? No. Have they caught us? No. Are they happy about it? Your guess is as good as mine, but they don't remove the decorations for sometime after they are done. In fact, the ornaments sometimes are shifted about the lot, in order to mow the lawn (probably in one pass) all the while retaining their newest duds all the way.

My picture came out blurry, but what you would see if blogger would work properly and let me post my picture, is indeed said lawn gnome wearing a plush bunny mask. (Which may have been partly responsible for getting us a free coffee when I wore it into the cafe. It's not the first donated coffee we have received there. The very generous Barista has grown accustomed to our antics, and seems to enjoy them. We are amply rewarded for our sillyness from time to time.)

The daschund was decorated with a little pink hairy bunny toy, which will multiply to many bunnies through the coming weeks leading up to Easter.

It's times like these, when we can not take life so seriously and bring a little humour into peoples lives and perhaps a smile, that life is good!

Invasion of the Creatures from the Aquarium

While putting away clothes in my daughters dresser I was confronted with a question.....

How the heck did a little itty bitty golden "apple" snail, about the size of half a pea get into my daughters dresser? Oh sure, there happens to be an aquarium on top of the dresser, but that's not an adequate explanation! And where was the gooey snail part?

The mystery deepend when I came across another of the pesky little creatures while sweeping the floor. Unlike his/her sister or brother in the sock drawer, this little fellow/gal appeared to still be present in some form in it's shell! A dried out dehydrated presence, but most definately there none the less.

Out of curiosity more than anything, I plopped the little beast back into the water, wondering whether or not it was "damp" enough inside to have survived the ordeal. I turned my back briefly, and it was gone! It had come out and joined it's siblings in the tank for a morning of feasting and merriment before attempting yet another escape!

A few months back, seeing these beautiful creatures in a tank at the aquarium shop, I inquired about them. I was a bit concerned about added them to my tank, since I had been fishing out the regular little brown ones ever since I started adding live plants to my aquarium. They assured me that these types of snails required TWO of them to breed. I bought 3.

You may be wondering why I'd by 3 when I was worried about them procreating? Well, we did after all have 4 tanks when I bought them. Unfortunately though, what I didn't forsee was that a week later I'd have a nasty case of Ick in all but one of my tanks. To treat it an aquarist must remove anything sensitive to the medication. This included these snails. Supposedly they are much like many of the parasitic diseases that we treat for and are therefore in harms way when we try to eliminate them.

One BIG snail orgie took place in the course of treatment. They rarely left each other alone and not too long after, I found two snails on the floor behind the dresser.

Now these fellows/gals aren't little. Make a fist....ok, maybe not quite that big, but about the size of a 3 year olds fist. Each day, at least 2 or 3 times, I went searching for them around the outside of the aquarium. We played this hide and seek game until finally one day I had had enough! I put them in an enclosed tank with only an opening for the heater and filter flow.

Apparently my type of apple snail lays eggs just above the water, somewhere humid and close so they will drop safely in when they hatch. I now have about 20 thank you (at least. they won't stay still enough to let me count!) And they are starting to come of age apparently, because each day 2 or 3 times, I go and search for the escapees who are trying to find their perfect place to lay their eggs.

The really funny thing about this, is thinking that I removed them all from a tank I had been treating for another nasty parasite, I found two had come out of hiding only after I had completed the course of treatment. The fish were dropping like flies, but I couldn't kill these little suckers if I tried.

So.....of to the Fish store to restock their supply of apple snails if they'll have them. Before they add to mine!

Princess Four of Four

I walked into the room belonging to my third and fourth daughters. I'm not a huge fan of Star Trek or anything, but I like the way that the Borg are "labelled." I think that this is a better way to call the kids when I want them. Especially if I am requiring all of them at once. "One through Four, Supper is ready!" Not that I need to call them for supper. Usually they are picking at the trough long before it's ready...but I digress.

I see a small green and yellow Ikea chair pulled up to Four of Four's dresser. It's sturdy enough. The dresser is strapped to the wall so it won't tumble over when used as a ladder to get whatever is out of reach at the top. That's how she got up there to get her bottle of baby lotion that I had thought I cleaverly stashed away in the top drawer where she NEVER looks. When there's a need there's a way I guess.

"Mom, I want a 'sauge now." she says in her deceptively sweet voice. You see, I know what will happen if I say no. Oh sure! You're sweet now, but if you don't get your massage when you demand it, there will be no living with you for the entire afternoon and probably most of the evening too!

This is something I used to do when she was an infant with dry skin. Now a recent addition to our bathtime routine again, she seems to be quite taken with this part of it. It was not, however, post bathtime.

I realized at this time that this is a true prima donna in the making. She's not our first "girlie girl", but is definately the first to believe that she's an honest to goodness princess and should get all of the princess perks that the position affords!

At 3.5 years of age, my little "princess" has previously let me know that our house is not beautiful like the huge condominium complex going up next to the Starbuck's where we like to have our morning coffee. She wants to live in a house the size of the entire complex she informs me.

Do I dissuade this behavior? No. Yesterday when we went shopping for shoes, she picked out the sparkly pink ones because that's what a princess would wear. I bought them.

You see, I have three more sensible, thrifty, tolerant and charitable children. This being the case the youngest is bound to be a little spoiled. She's Daddy's girl and definately his little princess. She's got him wrapped around her little finger! (I can say that in this blog with no fear of him reading it because this entry is too wordy. He likes the straight to the point kinda entries. He's a busy guy!) She says "jump" and he says "would you like me to grab you the moon while I'm up there. Oh ya, and by the way....how high?"

I suppose I'll need to take her down a few pegs so we don't totally ruin the child. Anyhow, enough for today's post. If you'll excuse me, Four needs her massage and manicure before we go for her morning hotchocolate at starbucks. I hope she doesn't want to go and find a dress to go with her shoes, I have got just too much to do today.

Job Posting

Wanted:
School Bus driver for elementary school children needed for pick-up and drop off at various local schools.
Must be kind and tolerant towards school aged children, regardless of how bratty they are. Must drive at a reasonable speed, not as if you are in the Daytona 500. Must not pick off children at the side of the road (you don't get points for taking out children!) when wizzing by your route for the second time, because .... ooops! You forgot to drop somebody off at their stop (silly driver!) Must enjoy the antics of the PerpetualChocoholic family enough to actually slow down in front of their house to make it appear as if you may have stopped for their children had they actually been completely ready for the bus. Finally, must actually drop the children off at their designated stop in front of their house and not at the neighbours who aren't the least bit interested in obtaining extra children for their own use.

D'UH!

I want our old bus driver back!

Can you imagine that this driver actually told my children who were on their way out the door, if you want me to stop you actually have to be waiting by the road for me to pick you up.

The problem with this is that one of my kids just about got taken out by the bus flying by our property, just about on our snowbank, for the second time, while playing. Had she slipped, she would have been road kill! I'm afraid to get within 10 feet of the street when she's on the job.

Then she tried to drop them off up the street at a neighbours house. My 3, and two others. The neighbours were confused, we were confused, and worried she'd take off with them darting out in front of the bus trying to get to us. After a lot of yelling, arm waving and annoyed looks, they made it home without any problems....this time.

Well, she doesn't know what she's missing as far as morning entertainment goes by not stopping for the girls in the morning. But maybe that's not a bad thing. My kids are ready on time now because they know she won't wait. And quite frankly, if the crazy lady remains their driver, I may just have to get them to school myself. Which should provide much entertainment to those gathered at the school because I'm sure I'll embarass myself somehow (not to mention the kids) when taking them in.

I miss Bozo! (Yes, believe it or not, that was actually their favourite bus drivers real first name. Lucky man!)

The squirrel population has increased these last few days. I received this letter just the other day: (well, this is actually just a translation of the original. The actual note was written on the snow in "Squirrelish" with a peanut and some poops.)

Dear Provider of the Nuts,

We are not pleased with the present variety of foods being served. We would like to see something other than peanuts being served during the course of the week. Also, please note that your attempt to increase our blood pressure with the addition of salted peanuts is noted! Your excuse about that being all that is available is unacceptable. I know that you have peacans in your cupboard for cooking....you've been holding out on us. You will pay for this little mistake with the spreading of your garbage thoughout your driveway until the mistake is corrected.

We would also like you to address the concerns we have about the presentation of the food. Although in the human world you all would like to believe that flesh colour does not make a difference, in the squirrel world I will tell you that it does. The grey squirrels will be served on the upper deck of the yard. The black squirrels will eat on the lawn. (except for the really big black fellow with the scars on his body and half an ear. He can eat anywhere he darn well pleases.)

Finally, although we were previously opposed to sharing our dinners with the crows, we have since decided that their attendance has proven beneficial. We would have lost a few good members had not the large beasts chased away that hawk that was sizing us up.

The Squirrels

P.S. You're ugly and you smell like a human, so stop attempting to feed us from your hand. It's disgusting and takes away our appetite.

Happy March Break

A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales. The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small.

The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale. Irritated, the teacher: reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human, it was physically impossible.
The little girl: said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".
The teacher: asked, " What if Jonah went to hell?"
The little girl: replied, "Then you ask him".

Happy March break. No beat the bus this week.

The snow is melting, they are calling for possible thunderstorms tonight. At least the rain is washing away the snow. Sadly, Mr. Blue's footprints in the snow have now started disappearing. The last concrete evidence of his existence here with us is melting away. Well, maybe not his last. The remaining "gifts" he left will need to be cleaned up from the backyard once they have been defrosted a little bit more. At least will will have comfort in the knowledge that he will continue to be with us in Spirit throughout the summer by fertilizing the plants for this year. Thank you Mr. Blue!

I've hit a creative wall once again. I've included a cute little story that a friend sent. I've seen it at least once before, sitting in this very spot, about a year or so ago. I've been blogging too long. I'm getting into re-runs.

BOSTON

Hi Loves,

Well, I'm back again. Sorry I didn't write sooner but I've been feeling jet lagged since I got back from Boston. Sandi says that I'm not really jet lagged since Boston is in the same time zone as home, but what does she know....she's never been to Boston! D'uh!
I haven't gotten any pictures from my trip. I stayed inside the suitcase. Mr. P. didn't think that the fellows at M.I.T. would appreciate a pair of world travelling underwear tagging along. I'm not sure why though because I'm sure theirs were all there. Well at least I got a pin this time that says Boston. Lucky me! I'm thrilled. It's a start. No travel plans for the immediate future. I'm trying to talk Sandi into taking me out for the day now that the weather is warming up. We'll see I guess!

Hugs & Kisses

Vicki Stripes
xoxoxox

Beating the Bus Again

I stood somberly in the doorway watching the bus bump it's way down the street with screaming excited children ready to take on another day. So often I've read in historical novels of their characters suffering from melancholy. It sounds so much nicer than depression. It's been a rough week with the passing of Mr. Blue. I turned to see 3 children in various states of readiness for school watching to see if I was going to blow. I didn't on this day. I'm melancholied out. But guess what....that was yesterday, and today is another day!

GET MOVING! And if I hear one more person say their sister is an "a**hole, I'm getting out the soap....again! (to their shocked suprise for the first time in the history of this household-- yesterday-- I washed two of their mouths out with soap. I had once tried "Louisianna Hot Sauce" to stop one child from biting everyone in sight, but unfortunately she was immediately taken with the stuff and could be found sucking on it clandestinely in the kitchen at a frequency that was alarming to me! I had created a pre-school Louisianna Hot Sauce addict!)

The delay tactics were starting. Child #2 approaches and opens her mouth as if to speak, "If someone or something isn't currently in the process of dieing, and if you say one word before getting ready for school like I asked, I'm going to introduce you to Mr. Sudsey Handsoap....again.

"But Mom, I was just coming to say I love you!!!!" she retorts in her best insulted voice.
"Right! You forget, I know you! When you were a toddler, you're the one who used to watch yourself cry in the mirror, then switch to a smile, then back to crying in a blink!" She started taking grand manipulator lessons early!
"Oh, listen Tara! Is that Mr. Sudsey I hear calling you?" Busted! She stomps away.
Delay tactic #1 ineffective.

ONE MINUTE TO THE BUS PEOPLE!

Delay tactic # 2:
"It's skating day at school and I can't find my helmet or skates. Can you find them then drive me to school if we miss the bus?"
"Sadly no!" I put on my sadest face when I say this for effect! I guess you get to watch your friends having fun skating, while you sit on a snowbank freezing your little bun buns off. Awwww. How sad for you! "
"You know, I just forgot, I may have seen them in the back room after all!"
(snicker, right! nice try...again, but no score.)

By this time I notice Child #3 coming out walking like a penguin with an egg on it's feet trying to make it to the door to escape outside.
"Ok everyone, today we're going to start a new routine. When you come to the front door ready to go out we're going to play a game called "patdown."" I see the look of panic flash across Karen's face.

"You know Karen," I say as I pat her down,
"Most people don't have odd geometrical shapes, with sharp corners protruding from various points in their pants. Whatever could have accidentally fallen in there when you were getting dressed?" A slight smirk adorns her lips.
"Opps! A pudding. One pudding." she giggles.
"That's all?" I ask?
"Oh yes!" she replies in earnest
"Then the second pudding and chocolate chip granola bars must just be in my imagination." I say maintaining that ever important eye contact to show that today I mean business....for a change.
"You know that there is only one sweet snack and two healthy snacks for school!"
BUSTED!

Delay tactic #3:
"I can't find pants Mom!" Tara tries in a final desparate attempt to miss the bus.
"Well, I'm sure the kids won't laugh for more than a day or two when you show up to school in your underwear!" I try to put on my best serious face, which might I add in no way even remotely rivals hers!
I'm not quite sure what exactly she was mummbling to herself, but she came back with pants on ready for the bus.

The bus pulls away with three little....disgruntled schemers off for another day of learning.

"Good morning Sandi!" My 4th has taken to calling me by my less formal name, like her little friends. Not wanting to watch that bright eyed bushy tailed looking expression fade, I pick my battles carefully you know, I let it slide for now. I don't want to start off my day with tantrums and fits. (I don't have enough energy right now to throw one anyways.) I turn to her and smile.
"Good morning sweety! Let's go to Starbucks for coffee!"

See, somedays it's good to be a stay at home mom. Even better on the days that we beat the bus!

Beauman's Blue Mischief ~ "Mr. Blue"
~ February 8, 1993 - February 27, 2006~

Well Hello all!

Or as they say in Canadian "Hello all, eh!" I'm home for just a few days....I'm off to Boston next, later this week. I got to see some of the lovely attractions while I was in Vancouver. I can't believe how green the grass is and that there is no snow anywhere. (not that I know what snow looks like anyways.) Here I am looking out our hotel window. I have a lovely view of the parking lot. I know that normally this wouldn't be exciting, but hey, it's my first one.

I hear that Vancouver is on the western coast of the country, so when California goes under water when the big one comes, I guess Vancouver will be going too. I'd like to think they are talking about earthquakes when they say this and not gas. Both cause me rock like there's no tomorrow. One's just less scary to me than the other. Not that I'm experienced in this matter actually. I've still never been worn, and Sandi doesn't do "that" anyhow.

They did have an earthquake back home. We just missed it by a couple of hours. It was only 4.5, and there wasn't any damage.

Here we are out for dinner at the "Boathouse." Seafood of course. It's a good thing that Sandi isn't accompanying him on this trip. She heaves at the thought of the stuff. Not appealing on a date. I, on the otherhand don't mind going to seafood restraunts. Especially if it means getting out of the suitcase for a little fresh air. Always a pleasant thing when you are an undergarment.....fresh air I mean.[blush!]

Here I am overlooking the mountains....breathtaking aren't they [giggle]. I mean the mountains, not my stripes silly! I'm sure glad it wasn't windy or I might have been blown away in every sense of the word!

Much love, will write from Boston

Vicki Stripes
xoxoxox

Fairy Tale Wedding

Once upon a time
Not so long ago
A Princess fair met and wed
Her Prince whos name was Joe

This tale is not about them
In any shape or form
But about invited guests
Who just weren't quite the norm

As it usually happens
These guests can't get things right
If it's not one, it's the other
And it was the fellow this fine weddings night!

A lovely feast was spread
For all there to partake of
But while the fellow sat chatting
Others kept looking....above

Above his eyes to his brows
Something was not quite right
They couldn't look away
Try and try as they might

The wife of this finely groomed fellow
Knew just what was wrong
She left him alone with the clippers
And eyebrows he thought were too long!

So he clipped and clipped away
With the electrical beast
And in the end what came out
Wasn't what he had wanted in the least

You look like a transvestite
The astonished wife laughed
You're getting all dressed up for nothing
Cause still in the end you'll look daft

It's really quite hard
To make a mad face
When your eyebrows are thin
And gone at the base

Perhaps no one will notice
That you've shaved them away
You could borrow a dress
Go as a woman I'd say!

The solutions were none
They went anyway
A fun time was had by all
To remember for many a day


The very end

If only I had pictures!

Hi All,

Arrived safely in Vancouver. Will post again soon. I'm hoping to make it out of the suitcase this time.

Much Love,

Vicki Stripes
xoxox

It's been almost a week since I've posted anything. I've been on an impromtu vacation (in a rut). So here I am back temporarily.

Vicki Stripes is going to Vancover this week, not me.

My kids will be getting on the school bus and going off for a day of "work", not me.

The other half of me will be off working stressfully hard wishing he were home like me, but not me.

Tomorrow I will tackle the toilets and pick up the garbage the squirrels spread around (the black ones. The grey ones stare at me through the patio door until they drive me nuts....no pun intended.).....lucky me.

I fell off the wagon. I'm back at the bar.....of chocolate I mean. Nothing serious. Back to depriving myself again tomorrow. 5 days off and two days on.

I've added a cartoon a day early. Lucky you. Try not to laugh too loudly [eyes rolling here.]

To Mr. Perpetual Chocoholic aka Vicki Stripes' Travelling Partner

Hi all,

Well, I'm back from my trip. It was fabulous. I got to go to Santa Barbara via a flight out of Toronto. I flew business class in the overhead compartment, not in the cold bowels of the plane. I liked that.
No one offered me anything to eat or drink, which I'm a little disappointed about. You'd think my travelling companion was embarrased to be seen with me.

On the first day we drove past the ocean. I'm sure it was refreshing to feel the ocean breeze despite the scorching 95 degree temperature. I wouldn' t know. I was in the trunk of the car at the time. I hear there were surfers and people frolicing in the water. I'm sure their bathingsuits were enjoying themselves. [sigh]

The hotel was nice....from what I could tell from the inside of the shaving kit. My home. My prison.

Well at least I can say that I've been to Santa Barbara which is more than I can say for Sandi's butt. I have pamphlets to prove it. Will post pic's later.

Much Love,

Vicki Stripes
xoxoxo

It ALL Happend One Morning

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get one pair of underwear into your husbands suitcase unoticed, wake up 15 minutes before the bus and provide on cartoon on your blog. Good luck. This message will not self destruct in 30 seconds, but will remain on your blog for what will seem like an eternity to remind you that you are truely the nut and not the magnet......

7:00am
*alarm goes off, radio accidentally turned down very low during the setting process which was at 12:30 am when I awoke and remembered I needed to make the kids lunches and clean the kitchen. (I lay down for "just one minute" at 10pm.)
*"One more minute, that's all I need"
*husband is absent and therefore can't remind me to get up. He is now in California with my Travelling underwear I have affectionately named "Vicki Stripes" (for vicariously)

7:30 am
*Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! It's 7:30 am! 15 minutes to the bus!
*Run up stairs 2 at a time seeing stars the whole way. I got up a little too quickly I guess!
*Chicken little runs around the house yelling "the bus is coming ... the bus is coming!
*Stop to check self in the bathroom mirror. Don't want to frighten the kiddies.
*Look at aquarium. They really do have the most amazing looking fish now a days. Do you know that yesterday....I digress, back to panicing.
*Ahhhhhhhh! Get up! 15 minutes until the bus comes...
*Child #2 Miss Negative "we'll never make it Mom."
*Child #1 Miss Blank Stare "I can't find any pants."
*Chile #3 Miss Obstinate, no response. She'll get up when she's darn good and ready and the whole entire world can just go to H-E-Double hockey sticks! And apparently now, she's not ready. She is the equivalent of a cat in the human world.
*Cheese buns for breakfast....
*All children in various states of readiness turn up in the kitchen in a fraction of a second. They REALLY like cheese buns.
*I shove chunks of banana unattractively in each of their mouths with the chunks of cheese bun already floating around there. They think this is funny. I, on the other hand, fail to see the humour in this situation.

7:40 am
*All children stand fully dressed for one of the first truely chilly winter days this season. hair and teeth brushed (to the best of my knowledge.) and they look better than they usually do in the morning. They are .... amused.

7:41 am
*We are waiting for the bus. Hmmm. I don't think I like just waiting around like this. It's kind of boring actually being on time! No adrenalin rush, no high upon making it on time.

7:52 am
*Bus was a bit late today. Can you imagine!

New routine! Get up at this time every day!

8:00 am
*receive the following e-mail:

"You really did it! I can't believe it. Now I will have to try get a picture :-)"

I hid them in the little itty bitty pocket of his shaving kit. Taaa Daaa! Now I hope he remembers to buy a small pin or badge or something that I can put on them, otherwise I'll need to write on them. If he gets a picture of them there, I'll do a happy dance!

Well....I've completed my mission for today. I am the Queen of the Universe! Or Canada at least. I'll leave the take over of the States, or at least part of it to Fourth_Fret. Back to bed. Being Queen is exhausting!

It's been another uneventful weekend. I thank God for that. Only I don't have any blogging material. I must have successfully made myself look hideous enough to be unapproachable at the ski hill, because no one disturbed me. I had no job offers when shopping. We made it to the bus this morning with time to spare. The bus driver is starting to look bored as he pulls up to the house. Just another house....just another day.
I have become ordinary. Time to shake things up........

Oh ya! I almost forgot.....today is the big day to purchase the travelling underwear! They leave tomorrow for California and then Vancouver next week. I offered to buy boxers so they looked less conspicuous in the suitcase, but the other half of we said no. I guess he doesn't think I can slip them in unseen before he leaves. Hmmmm......I like a challenge now and again.

Brain Farts and Nut Cases

I took a trip this evening to buy ice skates at Walmart. For the normal person this would be an easy thing. For me, it's an exercise in the abnormal that I need to live through to find material to write about for this blog. I say that though, knowing of course that if I didn't have a blog these odd things would still happen to me. I just like to think that they have a purpose other than I'm just another nut magnet!

I was attempting to call home on a brand new (second hand) cell phone that my husband had just purchased for me. I was walking with the look of a person with a purpose I suppose, while staring at my new phone, attempting to get a stronger signal.

I was interupted by a woman with a heavy Eastern European accent asking me what I did for a living. She looked normal, pleasant and well groomed....clean. She appeared to be well spoken and intelligent.

Now I'm not one to give out personal information to perfect strangers in the middle of a Walmart, but my curiosity got the best of me and I gave her some uninformative vague answers to her questions.

I was a woman that was emitting great confidence, and purpose....apparently. She said I looked well put together. Snort! For a street person perhaps. Was I interested in a job for XYZ (false name of course) financial company? She pulled out a little pad and wrote her name and number and handed it to me. (What? No business card?) Ya thanks! I be calling you for a job tomorrow.

Some crazy things go through ones mind when these things happen like:

*Is she going to make a pass at me?
*She could use an appointment with a dentist for a whitening treatment.
*Lovely accent! I wonder if she ships unsuspecting women overseas to work as prostitutes. (and I'm such a fabulous pick!)
*Which "financial" company do you work for, really!? And how much do you get if I get hired on.
*Do you have someone behind me trying to get my wallet or are you just looney.

While I stood there waiting for my improptu interview end, it hit me! I forgot to put on my scary unapproachable face before leaving the house darn it! Not that it matters, because it makes me that much more of a challenge! It's the nose. I have a little cute turned up nose that makes me look friendly, approachable and like a sucker. The kind of nose that makes Tom Hanks look perpetually boyish despite his advancing in years. Yes, it's the nose!


Oh and here's one for Mr. Incredulous at People Say Stupid Things:

The phone rang the other day, which I made the rare mistake of answering. I rarely do. That is indeed what answering machines are for! TO WEED OUT THE LOONIES PEOPLE!

"Hello, I'm calling from blah, blah, blah, and I would like to talk to you about the Consumers Choice Awards." said the poor interviewer on the other end of the line.

"Oh, no, I'm not interested in participating. I never watch that show." I muttered distractedly as I turned and hung up the phone.

Then it hit me. He wasn't calling about the "People's Choice Awards." Like someone would be calling Canada about that anyhow. After I had finished laughing I thought of Mr. I sitting in the place of the interviewer, shaking his head and then writing about my brain fart on his blog the next day.

I think I spend too much time looking at blogs. I'm starting to connect my everyday life with them far too much! LOL.

Ok! My underwear may not be going to Japan after all now, but they will be going to Santa Barbara, CA. I think.... Santa something or other. (NO, not Clause, ha ha!) Somehow it's not the same.

I can't believe that I'm living vicariously through my underwear. I am actually disappointed they aren't travelling to Japan. How sad is that! [sigh] Maybe I should send a t-shirt instead. Then I can get patches or pins for it.

If I were to send a t-shirt (I don't dare say underwear) to your house...what would you write on it for Me? Tell me, I'll write it for you and I can be pathetic another way! If you want to send a picture, I'll get some of that there high falootin' printer paper that I can iron on the shirt with the very special photo you send. Or maybe not depending on what it is.

S.

Ah yes! Babies....the snack food of the fish world. I've just moved 5 more babies across the street to the nursery tank at Matasha's house. One was a bright orange, red eyed albino mollie. If some one attempted to eat that one they'd have been cat food! (Too bad I don't have a cat for just such an occassion.)

Sick of fish cartoons yet? Sick of cartoons period? My kids have been behaving slightly better in the mornings and pretty much all of the time, so it's all I've got!

Hagus the Horrible

There are many things that I never thought I'd ever hear myself say during my time as a parent. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd have to tell my children......

Get away from me with that plate of Hagus! Can't you see I'm trying to use the toilet!!!!!!!!

Yes, tonight was a new low for me. They picked the lock on the bathroom. Is there nowhere that is sacred anymore?! Five people of varying ages chased me around the house with a plate of steaming hagus telling me I had to partake of it in celebration of my Scottish heritage on Robby Burns day. What a load of hagus!

Do I wear a kilt? Do I throw around large logs just for the fun of it? Do I have a scottish accent?! No. I do not. My Grandfather came over from Scotland in his early 20's. That is long enough ago to separate me from this putrid dish!

During my childhood I ate blood pudding....and liked it. I ate head cheese....and liked it. (But know better now!) I never grew fond of kidneys, lamb, liver or any other organs that passed over my plate. I've eaten moose, deer, beeffalo and the odd bug that's flown between my teeth while on the back of a bike, but I have to draw the line at sheep organs and stuff neatly packaged in it's stomach. EWWWWWWWWWWW!

If terrorists ever were holding me captive and wanted information from me they could try and force feed me one of two things.....seafood or hagus. Both would be an effective tool in getting me to sing like a bird!

I love my family. I was running to get to an evening meeting. I took a miniscule pea sized bite.

chew....chew.....chewwwww.
heave!
run and spit!
scrub, scrub, scrub my teeth and tongue
eat a greek olive....not strong enough
eat a green apple...putrid flavour is starting to fade

So any one who is inclined to celebrate, Happy Robby Burns day, BUT DON'T GET TALKED INTO EATING THE HAGUS!

Ok. I've got a system going here. Some fish....unlike most normal people, eat their young. I have primarily female fish with the odd male. (Odd in every sense of the word.) My good friend and neighbour across the street (that I just met in September after living across from her for eons) has an all male tank and a separate tank for fry. I send her the baby guppies, mollies and cross-bred fish ("Flash n' Dash, one of my guppies only liked to hang out with the Mollie chicks, shunning his own kind.) I dunno, call 'em "gollies, or muppies"

After much work (on the fishes part) after about 60-80 babies have been born over the past few months we have a grand total of 2 babies that have reached their wild teen years, and a small school of newborn fish. Hmmm.....and I was worried we'd get over crowded.

Anyhow, I can't imagine snacking on a kid if I was hungry no matter how bad my day was getting. There are times though when I offer to take the kids to the Mommy store so they can pick out a new one cause I'm just done in! They have always refused thus far....darn it! I could after all use the vacation. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that in the human world it's the kids that have the upper hand and don't turn your back. Don't let down your guard. Be very afraid!!!!! They just might get you!

Well, the day I have greatly anticipated has finally arrived! Voting day. So everyone get out there and vote for what ever party you want, just do it .. unless you are a Liberal. If you are then it's fine to wait until tomorrow to vote. Just kick back, relax and worry about it another day!

If the Liberals get back into power then I give up! Maybe we should all just start stealing and breaking the law to get what we want. That's the example that they've been setting for us. If we reward them, then what does that say about us?

Vivre Quebec

The day was quite snowy today. It was a heavy wet snow consisting of extra large snowflakes that were enough to soak through a coat in the time it took to walk from the mini-van to the ski lodge. I had also walked to the daycare, so I was melting a small waterfall from my hair alone, leaving black streaks of mascara running down my cheeks. My hair when it gets wet goes from straight to a wild wavey strawberry blond frizz in about 30 seconds flat. I was a pristine picture of beauty.

The smell of the lodge was not one you would expect from a change room of a sporting area. The smell of poutine* (yes, at 8:45am), coffee, perfume were the more pungent, followed by that of diesel fuel. That's one thing I'll say about the Francophones....they are well put together and never leave home without dressing to the nines and perfuming up real good!

I walked along one of the aisles between the tables, lined up throughout the lodge, making my way to my usual corner spot near the window to spend a couple of hours drawing my cartoons until it was time to pick my daughter up for her ski lesson. I looked around the room and saw the usual. English and French people alike with a peppering of other cultures thrown in for good measure. I passed by groups of young snowboarders in heated exchanges, skiiers adjusting and readjusting bindings and pulling undergarments out of their butts, parents working on laptops, passing the time until their kids were done skiing. A mother screaming angrily at her child to get ready to go out and have fun. A grown adult woman was snuggled up cosily next to her sweetie contently sucking her thumb like a new born child. (I don't even want to think about why!)

I scanned the corner spot, making sure that there were no weirdo's there. (Other than the obvious one that would soon be sitting there....me.) I seem to attract them like a magnet and hate to start off the day by intentially sitting next to one. I know eventually they will find their own way to me without my help. I sat down in just the perfect spot and tried to look unapproachable. It didn't work. I had just laid out my coloured pencils, erasers, cell phone and started sketching when I was approached by the first individual desparate enough for company to interupt a perfectly hideous looking scowling stranger, playing with a sketch pad and coloured pencils like a five year old.

She was pleasant, French speaking, perky, well dressed and VERY talkative. Everything I was not. I heard her entire life story. I answered her politely and threw in the odd question as to not appear so disinterested that I was outright rude. Bordering on rude was what I was aiming for. I turned back to my drawing and totally engrossed myself in it hoping she would move along, and eventually she did. I could see her in my peripheral vision. She had found a new victim a few places down the bench.

I could feel the table quiver slightly as a new woman seated herself directly across the table from where I was sitting. I made sure not to look up. I continued, self consciously, to work on a drawing which was now in the colouring stage. I reached up for my "chocolat chaud" and made a fatal error. I had placed the cup too far over on the half of the table that the woman was now sitting at. Blast it! Why didn't I foresee this problem! I had spread my belongings out too far! I tried in vain to reach up and gently grab the cup without disturbing the lady from her book that she had now pulled out and seemed to be absorbed in. She wasn't. She was just pretending. We made eye contact. I apologized for taking up so much of the table and the floodgates of conversation were opened. I learned her life history, that of her family and friends and neighbours. I learned of her dog, her friends dogs, those of her neighbours and people she had never met. A whole hours worth of stories were exchanged.

This woman was well put together, was intelligent, well spoken, French speaking with the smoothest most beautiful Francophone accent. The worst part was that she had the absolute nerve to be interesting! Can you imagine! So if my cartoons suck even more than usual this coming week, blame Elaine.

I'm learning more and more , that with all this talk of Quebec separation (from Canada), and the language police measuring the print on all signs to make sure that the French is in larger letters and appears first when written in Quebec (I kid you not!), that these people are pleasant, friendly and accomodating for the most part despite some of the crazy rules they have to protect their language and their culture. I used to dislike them for it, but now that dislike has turned into admiration. They know who they are and they want to protect that. They are proud of their heritage and are not willing to let the politically correct tell them they have to change for others. I guess that my dislike arose from jealousy perhaps. So these next few weekends when I'm passing my time in a Quebec ski lodge drawing cartoons that universally suck, perhaps I won't be so unapproachable. Maybe, just maybe, I'll meet a few more interesting Francophones like Elaine.


*Poutine: a French Canadian staple of french fries with cheese on top covered in gravy. Where there is a French Canadian....there is poutine!

(....sorry, i like potty humour and i couldn't resist.)

I want to thank my husband for supporting this new past time I have of drawing cartoons. I couldn't do it without him. Being a stay at home Mom, I am of no use whatsoever to society according to the Liberal government. (I know, I'm starting to sound like a broken record.)

I get to be a slacker and my husband pays for me to sit in Starbucks at 10pm at night so I can draw comics. BUT...actually maybe I shouldn't be thanking him so much as thanking the Liberals since, according to Belinda Stronach, MP for Newmarket Aurora, we should be "greatful to the Liberals for our prosperity." You're right Belinda. I'm sure that it is solely the generosity of the Liberals and not the hard working tax paying public (my husband included) that affords us the lifestyle that we are fortunate enough to enjoy.

Anyhow thank you to all who contribute to my little crazy little plan to stay home and raise my own children, the useless and lazy slacker that I am. I'd say God Bless you all, but that would be politically incorrect and might offend those who don't believe in a God.

P.S. Belinda, since you crossed the floor from the Conservative Party to the Liberals for an important vote in Parliament.....I'll watch and probably enjoy the moment more than I should if you go down baby! Although I can't speak for Peter MacKay, I'm sure he may enjoy it just a wee bit too!

A caller to a local radio talk show recently said she'd vote for a dog before she'd vote for a party other than the one currently running the country. Good luck with that lady! I wish you could vote for a dog actually. At least the chances are he'd/she'd be less corrupt, smarter, more loyal and work for biscuits! We've had billions of dollars stolen from us and our health care system is a mess. We're so multi-cultural that we are giving up our own culture and absorbing everyone elses is an attempt to be politically correct. We're led to believe that parents who stay at home with their children in the early years are robbing them of a proper early education. Apparently you're an idiot at raising kids unless you have a diploma in Early Childhood Education.

Yes honey, please vote for a dog. I'd rather that than you vote for the Liberal party!

WooHoo!

My underwear may be going to either Japan or the Netherlands. Personally, I'm hoping that they are going to Japan! Now that's cool.....now if I can only find a way to snuggle them into the suitcase. My husband will not take them willingly.

Ah yes! Clown Loaches. The clowns of the fish world. I bought two of these lovely creatures for one of our tanks in great anticipation of being entertained by their amusing antics.....but, I think I got one funny and one tragic clown.

Luckily, I was forwarned that these creatures sometimes like to "play dead" or they'd be in for a suprise when swirling down the toilet. Apparently, they like to lie on their sides and this, not being a normal fish thing, leads the tank keeper to believe his fish has moved on to a better place. Well, actually to the toilet, so maybe not better after all.

My funny one at least clicks audibly when he/she's eating zucchini....a favourite treat. Maybe click, or whiskers would be a good name. This one isn't too shy, and is always in search of something in the tank, what I don't know.

My tragic one is shy and basically is a big lump on the bottom of the tank. I think I'll call him lumpy. I did see it perched on a wee itty bitty plant once. That was kinda amusing....OK! So I'm desperate for entertainment!

Anyhow....I'm still waiting for the great performances and playful behavior that I've heard so much about. At least they're pretty in a whiskery clown fish kinda way!

I drew this for a family expecting their third child, but for once, I have nothing further to add to it! I'm oddly speachless. Maybe someone can give me a funny story to go with it! Oh wait!!!!!! I know....not funny but:

Way back when, long before cesearean (oooh! are you impressed I could spell that? I had to look it up!) sections, my Grandmother's oldest child was a month overdue and 13lbs when he was born. YOWSERS! Needless to say, she required some reconstructive surgery and was instructed not to have any more children. Luckily for me she ignored that advice and had a couple of more. They were just small ones though, at about 10lbs or so each. Thankfully my kids were all in the Low 8 to 9lbs range.

To Laugh or Not to Laugh

Honestly, whenever I am think that I am having a feather ruffling day I just need to think back to a time when I was working at a high tech company here in the city.

It was the end of the day when a couple of co-workers were leaving the building with me to head to our cars. This particular complex is a winding maze of various labs joined by breezeways and long open walkways. As we walked out into a courtyard type area on the edge of the parking lot we all looked up to see a woman also walking to her car about 30 feet ahead of us. Normally we wouldn't have been shocked by this, but I must admit, we were completely flabbergausted by what we saw.

A woman dressed in a waist length coat, dress shoes, nylons and underwear was making her way across the courtyard. Her skirt seemed to have been left somewhere behind and she hadn't realized this!

The three of us stood there staring with our mouths open down to our shoes. Someone finally stated the obvious, "she's not wearing a skirt! I can see her underwear....all of them!" I stood there wondering how far she had walked like this. The nearest bathroom was nowhere near the entrance. She would have had to walk through the cafeteria and through security at the front entrance. We stated to each other that we couldn't believe that no one had alerted her to the fact that she was exposed from the waist down on her journey through the building. You may be asking if we took this opportunity to tell her. The answer would be HECK NO! We asked each other if we should, but each of us stood in our spot as if glued in place.

Did she loose her skirt? Did she do this on a dare? Was this the new look for this season? If so, it wasn't one I was willing to embrace. Did it not feel breezy? It was then that one of my friends noticed a small portion of her skirt sticking out the side of her jacket. She had just somehow managed to tuck her skirt fully under her jacket.

Finally as she entered her car we decided it was too late to relay this embarrasing information to her. We just hoped she wasn't on her way to the mall or something.

So next time you find a piece of toilet paper attached to your shoe, or you get caught in a pick....it could definately be worse!

My newest obsession. From ZERO to FOUR tanks in a month flat. My 50 gallon is sitting in the living room unused at present. Anybody want to talk me into setting up that? Go ahead I dare you!!! It wouldn't be very hard, just need a stand and everything else but the tank.....about a few hundred dollars;-o

To the masuline half of we: Just one more...ok? It's only 50 gallons dear!

To Kurt: Is it cruel to keep fish in a tank if I don't dress them up? (oh! i've linked to your site twice without asking. Naughty, naughty.

Why do I have to be Canadian??????

I awoke this morning for the second time to a nightmare. It involved skiing, the masculine half of we, and DIVORCE! The first time I awoke, it wasn't to a nightmare, but to the masculine half of we suggesting that I need to purchase a pair of ski boots this week so that I can be ready to start skiing this weekend with my 3 year old. A nightmare situation!

I am Canadian, a fact that I believe we have already established numerous times. I grew up alongside the worlds longest skating rink.

CTV.ca News Staff Updated: Thu. Aug. 4 2005 11:31 PM ET

The Rideau Canal Skateway, which has long boasted of being the longest skating rink in the world, can now make it official.
The rink is being recognized by the Guinness Book of Records as the world's largest naturally frozen ice rink.
Stewart Newport, head of research for London-based Guinness World Records, says there are other bodies of water where people skate, but the Rideau rink's services and infrastructure make it unique as an official skating rink.
The rink is a full 7.8-kilometre long and is about the size of 90 Olympic-sized rinks.

I therefore have since longer than I can remember, been a skater. I am good at skating. Very good. I am not good however at skiing. My parents weren't ones to strap a pair of slippery boards to their feet to go plummeting down a steep hill at breakneck speed....or at any speed for that matter. I was not a skiier.

When I met my masculine half at the tender age of 22, part of me became a skiier. The part that is my body. Somehow my soul and spirit never really caught up. I stood atop many a hills crying, wondering how I might get down to the bottom. The ski patrollers bringing me down in a toboggan was even more frightening that making my way down myself, so I always did.

I eventually grew to like skiing when the conditions weren't icy. I can't say that I was thrilled about the various lifts though, being afraid of heights. There are a handful of hills in the area and slightly beyond that I can say I enjoyed. But not the one my family is currently skiing at.

I have taken the last few years off to be pregnant and care for babies. Now it is time for my return to skiing. The masculine half of we has suggested that I take skiing lessons with our friend and neighbour who will now be skiing for her second year. He tried to either irritate or motivate me by suggesting that "you might even be better than her." Oh gee! She's been skiing for a whole two years. I've been skiing since I was 23! I certainly friggin' hope that things fall into place a little quicker once I get going again. Nothing like starting with a group of beginners to feel like a winner!

The most frustrating part of all of this is that he knows what he's talking about since he's a ski instuctor and racing coach on the weekends. So it is with bruised ego that I go shopping for ski boots that will anchor me to slippery boards so that I can go plummeting down steep, steep hills at breakneck speeds with all of the other "winners"....I mean beginners.

Only 3 more months of ski season. [sigh]

To the masculine side of we: I LIKED YOUR PRESERVES THE BEST!!!!

grumble, grumble...ya, I just wanta' know when he plans on taking up in-line skating with me, or how about piano or painting for a really good time.

Happy New Years?!

Happy New Years to all!

I'm afraid to say that I was to lazy to go out in minus too cold celcius to go for a walk looking for embarrassing pictures last night. I've got the flu and just wasn't looking to get pneumonia. Unfortunately though, while I was napping, someone in our very own family decided to "tie one on" and did a little too much partying all on his own. I was completely flabbergasted that someone his age wouldn't know any better! Now normally I'd say someone getting plastered on their own would be someone with a problem, but since this was his first time and it was New Years Eve and all, I'll let him get away with it just this once.

P.S. I still haven't been able to figure out how Mr. Blue got the limes in the Corona bottle without a handy set of opposable thumbs. Or even how he sliced the limes up so nice for that matter. When there's a will there's a way I guess.

Incriminating Evidence!

BUSTED!


A little too much doggie fun earlier
Makes your belly feel swirlier
And then you hurl...ier.

To Kurt: If you happen to check this out, don't give me flack man! It's not like I dressed him up.

I've heard people say that if an alien race were to look down on people and their animals, who would they think were truely in charge? The dog on the end of the leash leading the person? Or the person walking behind after him picking up his....droppings?

Well I say, how would you feel being the one on the end of the leash naked, having to defecate out in public for all to see? I'm talking about when you're sober people! Athough I've known a person or two trying to write their names in the snow with urine....both male and female....trying to impress. Why this is a talent people think they can be proud of, I'll never understand.

This leads me to tonight....New Years Eve. Enjoy your New Years Eve and remember that if you drink, don't drive or do anything else stupid because us non-drinkers will be out walking our dogs (digital camera in hand perhaps!) and tonights stupidity may be tomorrows blog entry.

Actually, never mind my advise (except the don't drink and drive.) Go out and enjoy the night in all it's splendor, but remember, a picture is worth a thousand words!

Well folks, it's almost that time of the year when you need to pluck the kitties from the Christmas tree and put out the "temporary canine coniferous urination device." Both live and imitation. I often wonder what goes through an animals' mind when they experience their first Christmas with a family? If they are a dog they must be feeling sheer joy at the first sight of the "gift" of an indoor tree to pee on. Cats on the other hand must just think that it's about time that someone finally clued in and managed to get a proper toy for their amusement.

Our dog gets his presents put under the tree with the family's, as many other dogs do. Let me tell you, if we tried it any other way we'd have one insulted dog! The nice thing about dogs is that price and quantity doesn't seem to matter. Any old thing will do. In fact, the stinkier the better. Makes me think that maybe we should have just gotten more puppies rather than have kids.....nah, I guess not. Some day I'm hoping the kids will be able to help out with the dishes and such. Something that I've never seen my dog do in his almost 13 years.

On to the New Year!

I Love Americans

To all of the Canadian Politicians (Liberal Party) who keep insulting Americans on behalf of the Canadian peoples, I want to say, you are the brainless, useless, bullying pieces of doggie doo, not the Americans!

I AM CANADIAN AND I LOVE AMERICANS!

So stop speaking on my behalf. Anyone that votes for this criminal party deserves to get billions more taken from them! It's just too bad that the rest of us have to pay out of our pocket to pad theirs. Wake up people! Don't be so stupid!!

MERRY
CHRISTMAS!!!

and happy red green holiday to the politically correct
prime minister paul martin. (hope santa brings you a back bone!)

Preserve Reserve

I was just commenting to a friend yesterday that I just am having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year. I'm finding my regular duties are just dragging me down and I'm feeling a bit "bored" with my routine. Now before you jump on me saying I should be feeling lucky and sheer bliss at having the opportunity to be an at home mom....yes, usually I am, but as with all working people, mom's have their down weeks too! After all, you can only do housework so many different ways to try to make it more interesting!

After saying this I quickly realized the horrible mistake that had just escaped my lips! I blurted a hurried prayer out loud, "Oh please God, NO! We don't need to get sick before Christmas....forget I said that."
Because, it never fails that whenever I complain of boredom something bad happens, usually taking the form of a virus or bacterial infection for someone in the family.

No body got sick. Our fridge stopped working immediately upon my returning home. Thank God that was all .... I think.

As you can imagine, I haven't been terribly excited about the cleaning process that was definately one that needed to be done. I was however excited that since the fridge has been off for so long that all of the preserves that I have collected over the past couple of years are now "aawwww, too bad" spoiled and I have had to throw them out.

People are very generous to us and for that I am greatful (although I know I won't sound it!) but, sometimes there are preserves you like, some you can tolerate and those that you know you'll never eat once you've opened them, but don't have the heart to waste. Someone has worked hard to make that disgusting looking green stuff with black and orange dots and you'd hate to just throw it out! And I don't know what the heck a boogleberry* jelly is, but I'm sure there is someone somewhere that actually likes the stuff.

Also, because the generous person who has donated that crap often checks up on the status of your supply, you want to make sure that you always still have a little on hand to make sure they don't send you more.

You may be wondering why I just don't tell these people that we don't like the stuff? Because:

a) hurt feelings (I've tried to let people know a couple of times nicely)
b) word gets around and people stop sending the good stuff that you like!
c) I need something to complain about, right?
d) A full fridge runs more efficiently than an empty one.
e) People are very maternal/paternal about their preserves. Insult a preserve, is like insulting an offspring. It's the same thing.
f) That stuff may actually start to look appealing if there is ever a catastrophic event and we run out everything else edible.
h) There are starving children in Africa for goodness sakes, how can I waste food!

That being said, I have to say that for once, the boredom phrase worked in my favour, sort of, knock on wood, as long as somebody doesn't get sick now from eating warm cream cheese or something. My unappealing preserves are now tucked snuggly in the garbage. I won't mention the broken fridge to the donators unless they ask why there isn't any in my fridge. I'll just politely tell them what happend and say that for now, we won't be needing any more. I have extra's in my cupboard.

Anyone have any suggestions on how to get rid of those?

P.S. If you have donated a preserve and are reading this, I just want to let you know that yours was one of the good ones, not the disgusting ones. In fact I personally liked yours the best!

*name of jelly changed as to not to offend the donator. I've never heard of the kind of berry in the jelly you gave me, are you sure you didn't make that up?

Germany or Bust

My husband just returned from a business trip to Germany. I had gone to do some work in the bedroom (actually to hide from the kids until they found me) when I sat down on the bed next to a pair of his neatly folded underwear. I looked over at the laundry basket and noticed that he had thoughtfully emptied the contents of his suitcase into it except for this sole piece of clean apparel. Underwear. My attention was drawn back to this undergarment sitting on the bed beside me. Green, relatively new....maybe a year or so old. No holes. He brought them to Germany with him.

I have never been to Germany. I've been to Toronto, Quebec City, New York City, Niagra Falls, Orlando and Ormond Beach Florida. Never Germany. I've never crossed the ocean or had the pleasure of an 8 hour flight. In fact I've only flown a couple of times. In my 40 years on this planet I, a big city girl, have only seen a small handful of places that are not actually that far away. In the one year that they have existed, my country boy husband's underwear have been to Toronto and Germany. They are world travelled undergarments. They are better travelled than me. I am jealous .... of my husbands underwear. (Let's keep the thoughts clean here people!)

Since I am the proud parent of four....yes, count 'em four lovely very young girls, it is unlikely that I will be travelling anytime soon over the "big water", as my oldest daughter called it, when they (my husband and his underwear) went to Ireland...wearing different world travelling undewear that I am also jealous of.) This being the case, the next time he travels, I think I will slip a pair of my undergarments into the suitcase so that I can say, although I've never been overseas, at least my underwear has.

[snicker! Let's see him explain those to customs!]

Woo Hoo!

Well. I am unofficially off of chocolate. Sort of. Chocolate pudding is still a staple in my diet. A woman needs to get her calcium after all.

God is wonderful. God is good. God is there for us when we ask him for help. He has made that clear through his word. I've learned though that I need to be specific when asking him for help with a problem. The first time I asked for stregnth to get through my chocolate addiction, I believe that he sent that help in the form of a diabetes scare. This time I hesitated before asking and finally did praying for stregnth to give up chocolate, but not through a diabetes scare, cancer or any other horrible fate. He answered my prayer. I got the stomach flu after downing a bag of chocolate balls.

When I pass by the chocolate chip jar I feel a shiver go up my spine and I break out in a cold sweat. I have chocolate balls sitting in my bedside table (don't ask why they are there and tell me I have a problem, my husband already did that!) I can't even muster up enough courage to take them out of there and throw them away now that I am better. Just thinking about them gives me indigestion.

So, my sincere thanks to the "Big Guy" for the help. I guess the moral of the story is that God will help you when you ask. I just need to remember that he's not a magic genie and will help you his way and in his time. The way that is best for me, and that will work for me, even though it may not be the way that I was hoping for! His will be done! Amen.

P.S. Thank God for toilets! 'Sploding ones or not!

Thanks for the Memories

Thanks for the Memories ...
This came from True Blue Semi-Crunchy Mama/Writes for Chocolate ...

Please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL MEMORY OF YOU AND ME. It can be anything you want–good or bad–BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. When you’re finished, post this paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON’T ACTUALLY remember about you.

Onto the Next Attempt

I've failed once again
It's not easy you see
Giving up chocolate
In my family

It's a staple you know
Added to many a dish
How do I stop it?
With a prayer or a wish?

I'll try once again
To take it all out
None in the house
The kids will all pout

My husbands' bad too
He hangs out at the jar
Of chocolate chip morcels
They sure don't go far!

Christmas is coming
And nothing I make
Can have any chocolate
In treats that I bake

YUCK! I hate that
Sweets that are too bland
With no chocolate inside
Outside or on hand

Merry Christmas to all
Happy Hanukka too
When your eating your chocolate
Think of me sitting here....Blue.

The very end

P.S. Oh ya. I didn't beat the bus yesterday. But I did eat chocolate.

I'm finding it hard to adjust to the chill in the air
I hate wearing a hat 'cause it flattens my hair
I'm not ready for Christmas, it should still be July
It was a sweltering summer, but the time sure did fly


A new year approaches but I'm feeling behind
I can't seem to catch up in my body or mind
I'm feeling all fuzzy and kinda blue
When I'm not chasing buses I know not what to do

Off for some chocolate for that pick me up treat
Smooth, dark and tasty, it doesn't need to be sweet
I'm feeling a little bit sick of the stuff
But my brain seems to need it, isn't life tough?!

I'm stopping myself from poisoning my whole being
Time to detox so from chocolate I'm fleeing
Where can I hide and get through the cravings
(Giving up chocolate will increase my savings!!!!!!!)

So once again, I'm giving it up
Does "Cafe Mocha" count since it comes in a cup?
So long to my friend "Starbucks" so dear
So long chocolate balls and chocolate chips too I fear

I'll try once again, and I hope this time I won't fail
Cause I feel kinda sick and a little bit frail
Please no chocolates for me....not for a while
Once I've detoxed from chocolate, I'll have reason to smile!

You be the Judge

I was putting the garbage out late last evening after a lovely evening out with a friend when I noticed the neighbourhood "crazy" person pacing the street, vehemently arguing with someone invisible to me. I realize that it is not politically correct or particularily kind to call some one nuts now a days when they are suffering from a mental illness. I'm not actually sure what the "mot du jour" is for mentally ill people today, but I feel some allowances can be made for me in this case since I suffer from a mental illness myself. Motherhood.

I stood and watched him for a while, while he stood and watched me. I started wondering if we were all that different from each other. We were both about the same age. We each could be found out wandering the streets at all hours. I, usually with a dog or child attached to me somewhere. Him, with his ever present plastic grocery bag. We both could be found talking to ourselves out in public, although I usually don't get into too many heated debates with myself such as he does....at least not out loud.

I started to look at how he was dressed. He wears the same clothes always. He is always clean and tidy, but in the same outfit day in and day out. I am pretty much always in grubby jeans splattered with craft materials and little handprints made with whatever was on the menu from a couple of hours before. My sweatshirts and t-shirts usually have cartoon characters on them with cute little sayings. I am definately the messier of the two of us.

He can be found frequenting the street corner in front of a house that he had one time lived in. In it now resides the new tennant. There have been many since he had last lived there. I have lived in our home now for 13 years. He stands and observes the passing of cars and people on the street. Calmly. Softly speaking to himself. I can be found chasing school buses with strawberry blonde hair flying wildly out of an untidy ponytail dressed in odd combinations of clothing. (If I remember to get dressed at all!) I often can be found sporting penguin, duckie or piggy socks and sandals even though, yes....it's winter in Canada.

I don't talk softly when outside in this wild state. I am yelling. Shouting as if my life depended on it. Chasing a dog out of the street and harrassing children about their choice of clothing and about their non-existent mittens.

I have a bad memory. I can be seen driving to school with forgotten forms, books, lunches after having chased my children onto the bus.

I don't recall ever being this way before I had children. I got married and still I seemed normal then. I took a first step on the road to responsibility and bought a dog. A really big dog. Still, I remained "normal." I had four children within 7 years. BINGO. I am no longer the normal person I once was. That's what leads me to believe that indeed motherhood is a mental illness. A wonderful one at that, but one just the same.

I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions about who is the crazier of the two of us. I've brought this insanity willingly upon myself. He didn't. 1 in 5 people suffer from some kind of mental illness. Of the ones that don't, many of them are parents. You see, I'm not worried about this because you know what? I'm in good company.

The Sky is Falling!

While sitting at my computer, I saw an extremely short, blonde Chicken Little wannabe go screaming past me running as fast as her little legs could take her, yelling, "Ahhhhhhhh! The toilet's 'sploding, the toilet's 'sploding! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

It was overflowing. I stopped it and explained to said child what had actually happend. It had just clogged and that the toilet didn't actually explode. She's decided not to take any chances though and is now using the one upstairs instead. I don't expect her to actually flush again anytime soon! Not any toilet at home or anywhere else for that matter. Toilets are dangerous things and just too darn unpredictable.

Things are so much bigger than life when you're three.

Apples and Trees

I took my daughter to a sleepover birthday party at a good friends of hers. To say she was just excited is underestimating her mood. I helped her up to the door with all of the sleepover party paraphernalia necessary for a good time.

Her mouth was flapping the whole way up to the door and beyond. The more excited she grew the faster she spoke. She looked over at me to finish a story as she rang the door bell repeatedly. She was getting antsy waiting and was wondering what was taking them so long to answer the door. I knew something she didn't. She had missed the bell. Not once, not twice, but repeatedly in her excitement. Finally I clued her in. We both laughed pretty hard and she finally hit the target.

Her friends mother came smiling to the door and proceeded to open it for us.

BANG!

My daugher tried to walk through the glass door in front of the main door. I almost peed my pants this time. I have done that very thing myself once. Walked smack into a glass window at a halloween party leaving a smudge of white face paint on the window. Hurriedly and feeling embarrased I walked away as another teen stepped forward and wiped the offending smudge off of the full legnth window adjacent to the main door of the church.

Ah yes, it is true what they say.....the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Too bad for my kids!!!!