What's new...

1. I made a new friend. Yay! We're going to walk together Monday and Wednesday mornings. This is good. Motivation is good. This is a positive of unemployment. There aren't a lot of them, but they exist. And if ever I needed a silver lining, it's now. Unemployment can be demoralising. It can be depressing. But eff that. I have flirted with both but have decided that I'm not interested in a committed, long term relationship with either. So there. Take that.

2. I did a pampered chef party last night. It was fun. Great group of ladies! and it was fun to get out and be social and silly. I need to do more of these. I wish I didn't have to sell stuff to have this fun interaction, but it's good stuff and I like it so if you wanna buy it, I don't mind selling it...gently and with love...and maybe the odd Russian accent thrown in for good measure.

3. I am the stage manager for the youth Haystack production this year. Eep. Big shoes to fill. Doin' my best. Havin' fun. Only a little scared.

4. It's fall. It will soon be winter. I love fall. I do not love winter. I love about 4 weeks of it and then it can go. Since I do not rule the world, this is not in the cards for me. I need to learn to suck it.

5. I miss these little pumpkinheads. They still exist, they're just not so little anymore. I love the bigger boys they are growing into, but I find myself wistful lately for these days.

6. Nothing else. The end.

My friend Jaimie...

...has a blog. And she's really clever and funny and witty. And she put me on The Youtube! Eeep!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qe1Bp2vqbNo&feature=youtu.be

You should read her blog. No, really, you should. She's the shizznit.

http://firstcityline.wordpress.com/

Has the smile on my face given me away?

I GOT CARDED!!! It made me happy enough to break my rule against superfluous punctiation yet again. Seriously. Carded. At the LC. By a real person. Bonafide. I do not kid. It's possible the cashier was near sighted, or in need of a whole new perscription entirely, but I still walked away blushing and internally giggling.

 

Now let me just say, I have always felt I looked my age. Not much older, not much younger, just about right dead on. I'm good with that. I don't dye my grey hairs (although I'm not ruling it out. I'm just not there yet). I am Botox free. I embrace my eleventy gazillion freckles and crows feet and laugh lines. If I like you and you ask me nicely, I'll happily show you my stretch marks. I am what I am, what you see is what you get, and so on and so forth.

 

BUT! I GOT CARDED! It's really been a long while since this has happened to me and I've been kinda down in the dumps lately, so I'm hanging onto this with both hands. I was buying a bottle of fizzy celebration wine (fake, disgustingly sweet, champagne) and then a bottle of what I like to call "Big Girl Wine". I saw her eyeing me and suspected what was happening, but thought "surely not. I'm 35." But no! "Do you have any ID?". KICK ASS! My reply (I'm not even lying) was "Do I? I will give you my ID! I would hug you if I could reach over the counter". She seemed genuinely confused when she checked out my license and said "Well, you look young today". I thanked her more than what was appropriate and wore a stupid grin all the way back to the van (containing my husband and 2 children).

 

So, if you've seen me in the last 2 weeks, I've already told you this story. I'm still a bit tickled by it. I don't think I look young, but it's nice to know that sometimes, probably near sighted, sweet, MBLC employees do. Yay.

 

 

I didn't get the job.

I really thought I would. I think a friend of mine did. I am happy for her, but life sucks for me.

I will pull myself out of The Pit Of Despair tomorrow. Today is for eating popcorn in my jammies. Until 3:30 when I pick up my hooligans.

I am learning to speak Hockey

My youngest boy started playing bonafide league hockey this year. You know, the kind where you have to pad everything that is important and then athletically support and protect the most important part? Yes. I had to puchase a jock for my baby. That was more difficult for me than I thought it would be. Then I had to learn how to put all of this stuff on him. That was even more difficult. One of his buddy's dads helped me out the first time. Did you know that you have to tape stuff too them every time they suit up? I didn't. Did you realise that there are special water bottles with long straw thingies so that they can drink without having to remove the cage on their helmet? I didn't. I have been educated. I am learning to speak the language. I feel so very Canadian.

So, I assembled all the underwear, padding, tape, *gulp* mouth guard, neck guard and *gulp* jock/cup and sent my gladiator baby boy out into battle onto the ice. As I watched him skate over to his buddys, ecstatically happy to be out there with them, I wondered if I should look into extra dental coverage. Would it be unseemly to add additional shock absorbing foam to his helmet? Perhaps thicker gloves and an additional neck guard? I was assured by several seasoned hockey moms that he would be just fine. Ok. Fine. I tried to enjoy watching my son avoid injury. He really does love it. I love that he loves it. He comes off the ice soaking with sweat, cheeks pink from the cold and exertion, and smiling. That's good enough for me.

 

I do not secretly believe I am harbouring the next Sydney Crosby here, but he sure does have fun and, of course, that is the important part. The wise words of the Guy Who Sold Me The Hockey Gear keep coming back to me: "Just hope he's not too good. That gets expensive real quick". Yes! We embrace mediocrity! Or something. I just hope he is what he is and if he is good, my plan is to A) win the lottery or B) become the queen of a small country. I have no worry about him doing his best. He loves it and he'll do his best. That's just how this boy is wired. It's pretty much how most of us are wired: we work harder and the things we love to do.

 

I don't have a picture of him in his hockey gear yet, so this will have to do for now.

 

 

Wanna hear a funny story?

This story never fails to make me laugh. Most of my friends already know it. Dude, it's funny! Why would I not tell it lots?

 

Okay, so here it is: My second child was born without the benefit of narcotics. As a result, I felt like I was really alert for the bulk of my labour and his delivery. Much more "with it" and alert than I'd been with my first birth, during which I had a shot of demerol. Too alert? Perhaps, but I digress. Boy #2 was born during a March snowstorm and arrived in the assessment room of the Valley Regional Hospital. All the actual labour rooms were in use. The doctor was on her way (in a snowstorm) but didn't make it in time. The nurse caught him. She was wonderful. I will specify that he was born in the usual way. That tidbit is important for later.

 

 

But onto the funny part. The boy was born relatively fast. We arrived at the hospital at 4:30ish am and he was born at 7:15 am. Apparently a precipitous birth is associated with increased maternal bleeding. I have learned that being a pale skinned redhead is as well. When the doctor finally arrived, the nurse started giving her the rundown of events preceeding. No less than 3 times, I heard the nurse say something to the effect of "Well, the bleeding isn't too bad considering she's a natural redhead and she did go fast". Remember how I said that I felt like I was so much more with it this time around? Well, "Little Miss So Alert" turned to her husband and whispered "How does she know that I'm a natural redhead? She didn't ask me if I was". Yep. I did. You may now laugh at me.

Just in case that story wasn't embarassing enough, here is the World's Worst Picture. I think Kieran was 4ish days old here. It's really not a flattering picture of Jacob either, but of me, it is worse. Why the pirate hat? Why not?

 

Thanksgiving! And, guess what is worse than snow on October 4th!

Okay, don't guess. I'm going to tell you anyway. Wet snow, combined with high winds, that collaborate to topple a metal hydro tower which leaves you without power for 18+ hours on the coldest, windiest, day of the season so far. That, my friend, is worse. Add to that the fact that your heat is electric and you have a recipe for unpleasantness. Thankfully, you will also tend to discover how generous and giving people are at times like these. No less than 3 people called me to see how our family was doing and to offer a warm place to stay should the need arise. Unfortunately, these phone calls came in on my portable phone that does not (SURPRISE!) function without electricity, but it is the thought that counts.

As it turns out, I don't need power. I need a source of heat and I would really prefer running water, but it isn't an all out necessity. I love candles and I love how these sorts of events bring people together. It's really cool! I'll confess that I was a little disappointed when the lights came back on and we didn't get to have that candlelit, gourmet supper of hotdogs and alphagetti together with the dear friends who opened their home to us, but as I had my hot shower this morning, I got over it. Still, it is nice to know that when the chips fall, there are people out there who have your back, and still more you know you could call if you needed to. I'll get all sappy for a moment and say it reminds me of that little saying that goes something like "We are all angels with but one wing and we can only fly by embracing one another". Awwwwwwwwwww. Who said that, anyway?

 

So, the power is back on (thank you MB Hydro! You rock!), the sun is shining and I have to clean my toilet. Nothing says "Life goes on" like scrubbing white porcelain. While it is nice to have these little reminders of everything we have to be thankful for, I am doubly thankful that they are relatively infrequent.

 

Here's hoping that all this weirdness shifts so we can get back to doing this:

 

 

Instead of doing this:

It is snowing and my house is vibrating.

I shit you not. October 4th, 2012. Not piddly, wet, melting as soon as it hits, snow. Bonafide, accumulating, blustery, cold, yucky, snow. I am unimpressed. I feel this is excessive and unnecessary. I realise the futility in that sentence, but I feel better having typed it.

Lets add insult to injury, shall we? Ok! Don't mind if I do. My house is literally vibrating. They are redoing my street. There is some huge piece of heavy machinery, doing whatever it is that said specific machinery does, so close to my house that my whole frigging house is vibrating. At first I thought that my washing machine was about to achieve orbit. I am happy that this was not the case. Before today, I wouldn't have thought that having one's house vibrate would be butthole puckeringly irritating, but as it turns out, it is! Who knew?!

 

I am happy that my street is being redone. I really am. It will be awesome when it is finished. I appreciate this and I can deal with short term butthole pucker. And I realise that winter can be wonderful and fun. I'm just not feeling it today. My flipflops aren't even cold in the ground the storage bin...

 

 

Soon my pretty, soon.

 

Why I should not listen to reggae

It makes me think I can dance. I cannot dance. Seriously. It's a problem. I love reggae, but the unwelcome result is the belief that I may actually have rhythm which generally results in me injuring myself somehow. This is generally preceeded by me singing (badly) at the top of my lungs which embarasses my children greatly. I should probably write a list of all the things that disturb them the most so that I can pull them out at their weddings/graduations etc. Or perhaps save them as ammunition when they threaten to put me in the home.

Ya mon.

I have a job interview tomorrow! And randomness

I have an interview. I should be freaking out about it but I'm not, so, naturally, I'm freaking out about the fact that I'm not that freaked out about the interview. What up wit dat?

I really want this job. I would be good at it.

My street is almost entirely ripped up. Where there used to be a street, there is now a pit. My oldest child is unimpressed by this. My youngest is completely over the moon! It's like his own private little amusement park. Heavy machinery, big rocks and dirt. What more could a 6 year old want?

I freaking love fall! The leaves are lovely and it is unseasonably warm. Love!

Random picture of my kids in their Grandad's loader.