BEETS!

Recently I have discovered that beets are a polarising subject. I, being a hugely spoiled brat picky vegetable eater who is trying really hard to overcome it, was only slightly surprised that so many people loathe beets in all their purply forms. I understand this seems rather at odds when you consider my pickiness, but I only speak the truth. Due to the fact that I am such a spoiled brat so picky, I can only eat them pickled, but am really trying to branch out with varied results.

Regardless (but not irregardless, because that would be wrong), today I am pickling beets. My Grammie's recipe. My kitchen is spattered with magenta and smelling decidely earthy. It reminds me of how very much I miss sitting in Grammie's kitchen, smelling these smells and watching her practised hands make magic of ugly, dirty, purple roots. I love you Grammie! Thank you being who you were and teaching me so much about who I am.

I threw a wish in the well...

I have been married for 11 years. Crazy, no? I love my husband. There are days I'd happily sell him on the black market for his organs, but most of the time, I'm happy he's here. One of the qualities that endear him to me is that he's always surprising me.

Example: A few days ago, an iTunes receipt showed up in my inbox. I hadn't purchased anything recently. What could it be? Huh, a thankyou for purchasing Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe"? Um, what? Now, my oldest son has recently become the proud new owner of an 8G iPod touch (blergh, more on that later) so naturally I assumed that he'd downloaded the song and proceeded to ask him why he felt it was ok to download music without my permission. Nope, it wasn't him. Well, perhaps he downloaded it accidentally while listening to it? Nope, not him. Strange. Enter husband with sheepish grin. You can see where this is going.

So, Call Me Maybe, has now been christened "Daddy's Song". If you see him in public, I urge you to give him your number and ask that he call you maybe.

 I love him.

Here's a picture so you'll recognize him when you see him. He's the one with glasses ;)

First Grade Sucks

My boy is having a hard time adjusting to first grade. It breaks my heart. He has always been the child who leaps out of bed, completely ready to take on the day. He dresses himself, asks for breakfast and is waiting by the door 10 minutes before he needs to be, waiting for everyone else to catch up. He loved Kindergarten. Never once did he ask not to go. He asked to stay home every day of this past week :(.

When I asked why he wanted to stay home he said that he just didn't feel like going. There are little factors that seem to be contributing to his angst. Apparently there has been a little playground scandal. Fred tried to kiss Jane and my boy was upset and did his best to protect Jane from Fred's unwanted advances ( names changed to protect the innocent ). This upset him. He is in a class of 20 now instead of 11. He goes full days, 5 days per week. He's in a hallway that multiple grades use and sometimes he gets jostled and shoved a bit.

I realise that these are all small little issues and given time, he should adjust and get over them, but my heart hurts that his normally Happy Go Lucky self is so troubled and I don't feel like there is much of anything I can do about it. I've been helping out in his classroom a couple of days a week and he really loves having me there. I doesn't feel like enough.

I'll cut the umbilical cord eventually, I swear. But look at this happy, carefree, boy. Could you stand to see him so troubled?

Junk Mail: Isn't it Magical?

Things I have learned from my junk e-mail folder today:

I can buy printer ink for 76% off!

If I open this e-mail, 1000s of Canadian singles are waiting for me!

I can recieve a free gift with my AARP membership! (what is AARP?)

I have 4 friend requests for something called F*ckbook minus the *.

I too can enlarge my penis!

Six pack abs are just 4 simple payments of $19.95 away.

Wow. I almost wish I had a penis.
Your random picture for today: My kid in a kilt many years ago.

Raisins are an abomination.

I don't like raisins. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I hate them, but I dislike them intensely. I also feel sorry for them. They have been drained of their grapey glory, shriveled into a pathetic shadow of their former plump succulence. They are disillusioned, disenfranchised, and dehabilitated. I repeat, raisins are an abomination.

Raisins do not belong in baked goods. They also do not belong in trail mix, but they get put there just the same. There's nothing quite like the anticipation of the flavour of a perfect chocolate chip oatmeal cookie. The aroma; heavenly. The goldeney, chocolatey appearance; enticing. How many of us have been lured in by the promise of chocolatey goodness only to encounter the unwelcome, slippery, squish of the dreaded, leathery, raisin? False advertising, I say! At least trail mix is obvious.

Who is with me? This world is populated by two kinds of people: those who willingly consume raisins and those who do not. Which kind are you?

Guess what, guess what, guess what!!

About 3.5 months ago (give or take) I was in a community theatre production entitled "No Crime Like the Present". It was a dinner theatre, we did 6 shows and it was so much frigging fun but the reason I bring it up is because at the end, while packing everything up to leave, my Blackberry went missing.

Now, it wasn't a particularly nice Blackberry, nor was I particularly attached to it. It was the one that came free with the 3 year plan, but it had videos of my kids on it and it was my phone. I called the theatre director, e-mailed all the members of the cast, informed the members and the minister of the church where the play was held, searched the place high and low twice, made a general nuisance of myself, but it was all for naught. I decided I had to accept that it was gone and move on, but man, was that hard. I just knew it was in that church somewhere, but damned if I knew where.

I got a loaner phone. A phone which I loathe. Loathe! But I was grateful also due to the fact that the loaner phone was free. Turns out the crappy phone that comes free with the contract costs about $100 to replace. I am way too cheap for that. So, yay! Crappier loaner phone. I dealt. I used the yucky loaner phone and considered myself fortunate.

Fastforward to yesterday. The lovely gentleman who deals with the trash and general maintenance at the church called. Seems they were cleaning out a cabinet in the room we used as a dressing room and guess what they found shoved under a couple of baskets? I'll give you a hint, it wasn't Jimmy Hoffa!

My Blackberry! In its pretty, blue, otterbox, case. I am so happy!! I'm so happy I needed two exclaimation points and normally I detest surpuflous punctuation.

So, yay! Monday! Bring it on.

And because every blog post needs a picture, here is my kid with wax lips:

Listen...

Do you hear it? It's the sound of...nothing. It's been 2 months since I've heard...nothing. I'm not sure if I like it. I could get used to it. It will go away at 3:30.

Kids - back in school
House - total mess
Me - still in jammies, drinking coffee

This must end.

Blergh.

Snot

Do your children pick their noses and smear it on their bedroom walls? If you'd asked me yesterday, I would have told you no. But not today.

Today, my husband and I are putting together a bunk bed for our boys. In order to accomplish this, the loft bed currently occupying the space had to be disassembled and removed. There, behind the side slats awaited a crusty surprise.

Did you also know that trying to remove dried snot from painted walls can actually remove said paint? Again, I learned that today.

Why are children so gross?