This is for Wajihah

So, it has been well established that I am not a reliable blogger. I'm not going to apologize anymore. If I could making a living doing the blogging then I would be better but since the people who make a living doing the blogging do the blogging so much better than I, it's just not gonna happen.  So, I have let that go. Poof. 

Onto life since 2014. My puppy is still crazy and sweet, my kids are still healthy, I'm still married and living in Manitoba. These are all big deals, but onto other stuff. Be warned, it's been more than a year so this might get long. Brace yourself...

It's winter. I am not in Mexico. I am in Manitoba. Let us have a moment of silence to let that sink in. ... Ok. 

This winter has lacked the soul crushing cold of some of the other winters we have endured experienced here in ManiSNOWba. We have only had a couple of days of temperatures below -30 and that is significant. So, yay!

In Manitoba, we have something called "Louis Riel Day". In other places, it is called "Family Day". In other places yet, it does not exist. It's just a Monday off, but as any Monday off is awesome, we decided to make the best of it. We went to Falcon Lake with friends and snow shoed

and snow tubed and it was a balmy -2 and therefore of the awesome.





There were puppies to snuggle

and goofballery abounded.

Our winter tends to go by in a blur due to our children's steady diet of hockey, curling and...more hockey, so it was nice to take a break from that and do other winter-ey stuff with friends. But let us not forget the fun of skating in -22. Cuz, well, that's something.

And, well, hockey...

But spring is coming! For true! I saw crows. Lots of them. In a creepy tree. At dusk.

The end is nigh! 

In closing I will leave you with a gratuitous picture of my sweet Cali puppy and her buddy Oreo the Kitten...

   and, the inspiration for this blog post: the lovely Ms. WAJIHAH!

 and me. 

Yay. I blogged :). 

Why human babies are easier than puppies

I love my puppy. She is cute and sweet and for a lab puppy, she really is very good. That said, she is still very much a puppy and as such, is rather like having an energetic toddler on crack. So many people have informed me that puppies are easier than human babies and while this is true in some instances, in many, it is not. For your perusal, I submit: Ways Human Babies are Easier than Canine Babies

1. Human babies wear diapers: They do not leave crop circles on your grass and you do not have to search for baby doo doo bombs in your yard. Rarely do you find a new human baby poopy spot with your foot.

 

2. Human babies do not dig holes in your yard: At least not while they are babies. Finding new holes with your feet while chasing energetic puppies through your yard is really not fun for anyone involved.

 

3. Human babies do not have teeth: Human babies and canine babies both chew on things but human babies are seldom as destructive as canine babies. When human babies chew on your hands, seldom do they draw blood. Vampire babies are different, but for the sake of clarity, we're not discussing vampire babies.

 

4. Human babies stay where you put them: This is definitely variable and is highly dependant on the age of said human baby, but for the most part, you can put a 3 month old human baby in a crib/enclosure secure in the knowledge they will not vault out of or dig/chew their way out of said crib/enclosure. The same cannot be said of 3 month old canine babies.

 

5. Human babies do not chase cats: They certainly try, but they're really not up for actual chasing for at least a couple of years.

 

6. You do not have to get up at 5 am to let human babies outside to pee: And when they get outside, human babies do not decide that every 5 am blade of grass smells different than all other Godly hour grass and must sniff every blade individually.

 

7. Human babies do not get so excited every time a new person enters your house that they feel the need to jump all over/lick/nibble/piddle said new person: This really bugs me. It's a typical puppy thing and I know that someday it is possible she won't do this, but it is vexing. Calm down already puppy! New people really aren't that exciting.

 

8. You do not have to leave human babies outside when you go into a public place to do stuff: In the olden days, they used to, but that's not ok anymore.

 

 

But yes, there are ways in which canine babies are easier than human babies. So, I submit for your perusal: Ways Canine Babies are Easier than Human Babies:  

 

1. Canine babies sleep better/longer than human babies: Again, this one is variable and if your newborn slept a solid 6 hours at 13 weeks, I prefer to believe they are the stuff of myth, like unicorns and leprechauns. My puppy sleeps from 9-11, goes out to pee and then sleeps through til 5ish. My human babies slept in 3-4 hour chunks at this age regardless of what I did. When she does wake, I have only to let her out for a pee (which she takes care of on her own) and put her back to bed.

 

2. You can leave canine babies home alone in a kennel for several hours with various chew toys: I probable don't have to tell you this, but DCFS tends to frown on this in the case of human babies. Nuff said.

 

3. You only have to feed canine babies 2-3 times a day and bottles/breasts (after 8ish weeks) are not involved: This one really doesn't need elaboration. Sometimes self-feeding is awesome. 

 

4. It is perfectly fine to put a collar and leash on your canine baby and no one feels morally opposed /the need to debate it on Facebook: Yeah. I said it. Human babies with leashes tend to spark philosophical debate. Not so canine babies. Also, no one bats an eye when you harness up your canine baby and go for a bike ride while she runs alongside. Substitute a human baby and I suspect things would be different. Note: this is not an invitation to try it. In fact, I urge you not to try it. I know I shouldn't have to actually voice this, but as this is the interweb, I really do. 

 

5.  It is absolutely fine to give your canine baby a huge bone to gnaw on so that you can get shit done: This one is a little nuanced. I mean, we frequently give our human babies stuff to gnaw on so that we can do stuff, but they tend not to be things they can actually consume and they don't tend to buy us a lot of time. Canine babies can be presented with Kongs filled with peanut butter, or big, hardened, stick-like versions of dog food and they'll be happy for up to an hour until they manage to completely demolish them. You can also use food to train your canine baby to do all manner of tricks. This doesn't work for human babies. They're just underachievers when it comes to learning tricks unless you consider crying, panting, laughing, babbling or excreting (drool, poo, pee, puke) to be tricks. But then, they rarely do any of these things on command.

 

6. You do not have to push around or strap a canine baby to your person for outings: Some people choose to do so, but in general, it is not a requirement.

 

7. You can leave canine babies outside/in vehicles (*****PROVIDED THE AMBIENT TEMPERATURE IS APPROPRIATE!******): No one bats an eye if you tie your canine baby up to a telephone pole (well away from traffic) or in your car with the windows down appropriately while you run into the store to grab some milk. Do not attempt to do this with a human baby. It will not end well for anyone involved.

 

So there you have it. The list is made and set in stone. Human babies are easier. I have declared it to be so. I concede it was a close one. Both human and canine babies are incredibly cute and there are distinct advantages to having one or both. I will say, it is a good thing they're both cute. Just a little anecdotal data for your Monday morning perusal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, blogger, it's been awhile...

I haven't blogged in more than a year. I really like to blog and I have wanted to blog but haven't felt like I've had the time to do so. A lot has happened in a year and a half. I'll update you in bullet form because bullet form save times and gives the illusion that I am not randomly rambling:

- We put Elliott cat to sleep last October. At home, in my arms, peaceful. It was time but it was sad.

 

 

- We got a baby kitty. His name is Percy, but he also (sort of) answers to Purdy, Purder, Perfy, Perforation, Puff ball, Purd Bird and other assorted and sundry names.

 

 

 

- We moved! Unexpectedly, on a whim, put an offer in on a house (WITH A POOL!! I mean, ahem, with a pool), they accepted and then we had to get our house ready to put on the market in 10 days because on June 27th...

- We went to Nova Scotia! It was amazing. Soul soothing.

 

 

And if that wasn't chaotic enough, we got a puppy.

Her name is Cali, she's 11ish weeks old, a pointer/lab cross, and a sweetie pie.

Having a puppy seems very much like having a newborn, but without the breastfeeding. I love her, but boy, is she a lot of work. I knew she would be and they boys have been really great about helping with her and I would adopt her again in a heartbeat, but yeah. So different from a kitten.

I'll update more later. I think this is enough for one post.

This was not a good morning.

Today is Valentines Day. Happy Valentines Day! Now that that's out of the way, onto my whining.

Today started like any other morning. My alarm went off at 5:45. I ignored it until 6:01. At 6:01, I lept energetically out of bed and crept quietly downstairs to shower. Usually I shower the night before so as not to waste precious sleep time, but I decided to forgo that bit of wisdom last night. Not that it would have saved me otherwise, but it meant that my time would be more pressed. Whatever. So, I did the regular stuff one does in the morning: cleaned and arranged myself. Made lunch for the kids. Set out little Valentines treats for them to find when they woke up. Chocolate of course. I don't have to be the morning parent, so I figured I'd let Dennis deal with the consequences of chocolate in the morning. Muah ha ha. I left gummy tarantulas for him. I'm just that good of a wife. Don't be jealous.

So, my clothes were in the dryer. At this point I was already running a little late, so I was in a bit of a rush. I bounded down the stairs and made the split second descision to skip the last one. I was looking over at the drying rack and in the process of deciding that I should put it away lest some small human trip on it, or decide to use it as a Tarzan swinging device (it has happened, I'm not gonna lie) when suddenly I found myself on my back on the floor. What the...? I'd fallen? Slipped in a puddle of something wet and liquidy. Legs gone completely out from underneath me, head on the floor. Dammit! Had Dennis left a puddle from his wet boots? I'd already found muddy, melted snow puddles in my kitchen the night before. This is such a no no in my world. Punishable by with holding of desert and kisses! No, there was just too much of whatever it was for it to be boot melt. What could it be? Had a pipe leaked? No, there wasn't anything else around. I was covering all of whatever it was. And then the horrible truth dawned on me. There was only one other thing that it could be. WARNING: what is to follow is not pleasant. It's actually really, really, really gross. Really. Proceed with caution.



















It was









Cat vomit. A huge puddle of cat vomit. Cold, stinking, wet, runny, cat vomit. Luckily my clothes were still in the dryer. Clean. Vomit free. I peeled off my robe, wiped my feet on it (guh) and tiptoed NAKED upstairs. Most of me was vomit free, but I didn't even want to check my hair. I got back in the shower. I shudder as I type this. Then I had the distinct pleasure of going back downstairs (in a towel this time) to clean up the offending puddles. I may burn my robe. I haven't decided yet. I don't do well with vomit clean up. I spend most of the time trying very hard not to add my own vomit to the pile, and this morning was no exception. But I did it. It's done. I am vomit-free. Sore in many places, but vomit-free.


The day can only get better from here.

To the two people who read this...

Please forgive the lack of blogging. Life has been hectic. I started a new job and my kids went back to school and it snowed a lot and my husband left to go chase caribou, moose and wolves. And it's -30, but that's not really worth mentioning because this is Manitoba.

But it's great. I love it. Awesome. Bring it on.

I got a new car. Did I mention that I got a new car? Because I got a new car! One that has an intact head gasket and does not overheat. Yay! His name is Mr. Grey. Because he's grey. I love him. He is an '09 Honda Civic. I do miss Lucille Blue car. Let us have a moment of silence for her.

Okay, that's enough silence. I don't really want her back, but she was (mostly) a good car and one must forgive and move on.

School has been cancelled 2 times in the last 3 weeks due to the cold. If the ambient temperature is -35 or less OR the windchill is -45 or less, school is cancelled. Yep, we hit that. Global warming, my buttockal region. Let me just go on record and say that -45? FUHREAKING cold! Unnatural. Unnecessary. Uncalled for. But it's Manitoba, so really, whatever.

Work is good. I have been renewing my animal certifications. Surgery, blood collection etc. I don't love animal work, but I do it because it is necessary. I feel comfortable in doing what I do because the protocols set in place by the university and the CCAC are very stringent and are strictly adhered to. Animals are not in unnecessary pain and they are treated as humanely as possible. I still don't like poking little ratties, but I feed them fruit loops and they forgive me.

Dennis is gone again. Berens river this time. The worst part of this for me is that I don't know exactly when he is going nor exactly when he might be back. I have a nebulous sort of idea but I don't know exactly when the events will come about. I don't do well with this. Uncertianty is not my friend. Especially when I have 2 little people's schedules + mine to juggle and work out. Ol' Wildcard Dennis gets to galavant as he pleases and I am left to pick up the pieces. Nothing new there. I love him and it is his job and he can't help it and it's not his fault, but it's not my favourite part of his chosen profession. He's lucky he's cute.

So, that's about it. Nothing much else to report. Did I mention that it is freaking cold? I'm sure that I must have. The thermostat in my house stopped registering humidity and just started saying "Lo".  Whatever. It's awesome. I love it. I'll just go on and get down with my bad self.

Stupid Manitoba

It is cold. Freaky deaky cold. The ambient temperature isn't really even that low, but the wind is blowing so it feels like something stupid like -30. It's sunny, but it's too cold to go outside. I am bitter. Manitoba summer is awesome. Manitoba winter? Not so much. Blergh.

I got a new duck. One that won't try to bite!

Not really. I actually got a new car and that Weird Al song has been knocking around in my head every since. How strange is that?

 

But yes, YAY! I have a new car. So now I can truly say RIP Lucille Blue Car. You were (mostly) a good car and you served me well. Now that you have been replaced with a new(er), sleeker, more reliable model, I can look back on the good times. I'm sorry it had to end this way, but you really left me no choice. I hope that you will be repaired and loved by some one who will appreciate you. It's better than being pushed over a cliff, which is what I really wanted to do to you. I feel bad about that now, but only just a little.

 

New(er) car does not have a name yet. He or she is a 2009 Honda Civic and is rather a pretty, grey, little thing. Roomy and zippy and reliable with remaining warranty. All very good things. So, everything is falling into place. This is good.

 

I don't have any good pictures or either Lucille Blue car nor New Grey Car, so here is a random picture for today:

 

 

Christmas came and Christmas went

Post Holiday let-down. I has it. Christmas was mostly awesome. My parents and brother were here and my tiny little house was quite cozy and happy. Much food was consumed, many presents were opened and we enjoyed one another's company.

 

My parents and brother are gone now and it's back to 3 boys, 1 girl and 2 cats and it's still nice and cozy, but soon the tree will come down, the presents will be put away and it will be back to "normal". I'm not looking forward to the invasion of The Real World. I am, but I'm not. You see, I got a job (YAY!) which is bitter sweet. It means that our financial stress will be lessened dramatically, but it means a whole new set of stresses. I am very thankful, but I'm also a little trepidatious. It's not often I get to use the word "Trepidatious", so that's cool.

 

On a completely different note, my and Dennis's Christmas presents were IKEA furniture! *silent scream*. Winnipeg has an IKEA now. IKEA is my happy place. I posted it on Facebook, so it must be true. The degree to which I love this store is probably shameful, but I do not care. Since it opened on November 28th I have purchased: Pepprakakor (or something like that) dough to make gingerbread cookies, chocolate almond cake with butterscotch, some kind of lingon berry/apple sparkling drink (these were to take to a partay), 4 ninety nine cent chocolate bars, 3 picture frames, 1 set of curtians, 1 green SKOJIG lamp with clouds on it for the kids, 2 Hemnes night tables, 1 Hemnes narrow book case, 1 stuffed seal for Jake, 1 leaf headband thing for Kir, 4 hot dogs and 6 breakfasts (at $1 a pop!). Oh yeah, and a plastic organiser for a friend's daughter. You might think this sounds excessive. I think I have shown remarkable restraint.

 

Currently, my dear husband is assembling said IKEA furniture. Only somewhat under duress. It's best that I do not involve myself. Truly, it's better to let him curse and swear and sigh his own way through it. I do this for the health of our marriage, really, I do. Wanna know something else that helps with that? A healthy marriage, I mean. NERF GUNS! Seriously. Every good marriage needs a small NERF arsenal. I just happen to have a slightly bigger than small NERF arsenal. However, I must caution you: NERF darts sting the tinest of bits if they hit you somewhere sensitive...like your lip, or maybe your forehead. Those new fangled disc jobbies? They hurt like a mofo. Good thing Nana and Grandad got each of our children their own 42 disc holding, high powered, fast reloading, NERF artillery. Dear Dennis got me square between the eyes this morning. But when he turned to flee, my obnoxious aim delivered the very best of buttockal region shots. There may even have been 2. Heh.

 

Anyhow, Christmas was merry. I hope your 2013 is even better than 2012!

 

P.S. Just in case you were wondering how The A**hole weathered the Christmas tree et. al the answer is: Not too bad. That said, we do put the non-breakable ornaments on the bottom because he will bat them off and then chase them until he is satisfied that they are dead. He did manage to chew his way through a twinkle light socket. I kid you not. There is a fang hole right through that puppy. Took out a whole strand of lights at the bottom. Luckily, I go a bit overboard with the lights, so it wasn't noticable. I kinda hope he got a little electrocuted. Not a lot, mind, just enough to remind him that he doesn't want to do it again.

 

 

 

RIP Lucille Blue Car...

In my driveway sits a pretty little 2002 Honda Civic. Her name is Lucille Blue Car. Once she was my very favourite. Once she was safe and true and dependable. Now? Not so much. She's not dead yet, but I'm gonna kill her. Soon. And with feeling.

 

You see, it is my suspicion that Lucille was sick when she was purchased and this sickness was undisclosed. But being a good, Honda, girl, she managed just fine without complaint for 4 years until she couldn't keep up the facade any longer. And now I feel strongly that I must push her over a cliff. I understand that this rage is unwarranted but it remains.

Lucille's head gasket is leaking. As a result, she is given to boughts of overheating. Generally this happens after several incident free weeks. It lulls you into a false sense of security and then BAM! At the worst possible time! OVERHEAT OVERHEAT OVERHEAT OVERHEAT. Did I mention OVERHEAT? OVERHEAT: On the way to Selkirk with 2 kids in the car mid-August - OVERHEAT-. Fantastic. A lovely gentleman stopped and gave my kids cold Coke. On the way to a Pampered Chef party. Only 2 miles outside of town, in the middle of a snowstorm at 7pm. Pitch black. Inexplicably. Well, I did drive 2 miles beyond the freaking road because I missed the turn off in the dark and swirling snow. I was also either told or heard incorrectly that it was mile road 44 when, in fact, it was mile road 45. So, a 2ish mile trip ended up being closer to 10ish miles. BUT STILL!

 

Luckily my friend was understanding, although it's possible she was internally seething and still plans to exact revenge in some way. It's more likely that she's just an awesome person and was totally fine...but I'm watching you KF. I love you.

 

Since there are precious few cliffs in Manitoba, Lucille is safely sitting still. But your days are numbered, honey. Perhaps it was a bad idea to name her Lucille. As in "You Picked a Fine Time to Leave me...LUCILLE". Blergh. Grrrr. Argh.

 

 

Note that this is not a picture of Lucille Blue Car. But it might be my new ride if things continue on this path.

 

My husband is a biologist.

So am I, for that matter, but that's not important. I was sharing this story with a friend earlier today and it occurred to me that I hadn't yet blogged it. So, I'm gunna. So, like the title says, my dh (dear husband in messageboard speak) is a biologist. He works with Caribou. I know this because it says so on his name tag, but also because I have a freezer filled with various caribou parts. A head, legs, random assorted teeth and spun serum. Why doesn't he have his own work freezer for such things you ask? Good question. Apparently he now does. Yet the parts persist in my freezer. Puzzling, yes.

 

Anyhow, in addition to the caribou stuff, my freezer also contains a wolf head and a dead flying squirrel. I don't really know why. I try not to ask. Thankfully that little shop of horrors is in the garage freezer and as I seldom have to get into it I tend to forget they're there. Unless I do have to go out for something and am reminded. I don't like being reminded.

 

Being the wife of a biologist means that my general household decor includes (but is not limited to) such things as random ungulate antlers, assorted mammalian vertebrae, beaver wood and lots of moose/caribou related...stuff. For the most part, I also enjoy these things, and am happy to display them. Heck, I don't really even mind storing the caribou serum per se. I do, however, draw the line at fecal matter. Yes, that's right, my dh tried to sneak poop by me. Now, in his defense, it was well packaged and appropriately labeled but it was still, unequivocally, poop. In my freezer. Between the rhubarb and the frozen peas. I'm not even kidding. I'm not even being hyperbolic. Literally. Next to the peas. Bag o' caribou poo. It was almost sitcomish...if there was ever a sitcom related to the weirdness associated with being the wife of a biologist. I opened the freezer, began to rummage, came across bag o' poo, did a double take, picked up the bag, gently set it back down, gently closed freezer door, shook head, opened door again just to make sure, shut it again, took a step back and screamed "DENNIS!". Looking back, it's funny. It was not funny then.

 

So, dh appears and says "Yes?". I ask "Did you seriously put sh*t in my freezer? Seriously?". He had the decency to look sheepish and promised it would be gone in a day. It was. Bonus points for him.

 

This topic came up recently as I was chatting with a lovely couple who are new in town. They asked what my husband did. A friend of mine who was also present urged me to tell them about the fun things in my freezer so I happily obliged. Well, apparently I pronounce serum differently then they do. Sort of like Sir-Rum. The gentleman half of the couple thought I'd said "sperm". So, even though they have never met, Dennis will forever be known as The Caribou Sperm Guy.

 

But he's cute, and I love him, and there are pros to being married to a caribou biologist. Lots of them, in fact. Far more than cons. However, I like to stick with a theme, so the pros will be listed at a later date.

 

So, moral of the story? Store your serum somewhere other than my freezer.

 

 

 

'Tis the Season...of Snow and Vapo-Rub

The snow has arrived. Yay. Can you sense my non-enthusiasm? I do like snow, but really only in doses. I could do with more fall. I am not mentally prepared for winter yet. Why then do I live in Manitoba you ask? There is no easy answer to that question, so let us move on.

With the arrival of the snow has also come my first hacking-up-a-lung, flu-ish, cold-like, event. Enter vapo-rub. That stuff is the shizznit. It smells...well, smelly. It's not exactly unpleasant, but it's not exactly Chanel No. 5 either. It smells like winter and coughing and warm socks and cuddly blankets, which, if we're being honest here, is not entirely unpleasant. Only partly so.

Hockey season is in full swing and my Kieran boy got his very first goal at his very first hockey game ever. They still lost 7 to 3, but he was walking on air for the rest of the day. We even had to Skype Nana to tell her. Random grocery store patrons also heard about the joyous news. It was an exciting day but also an exhausting one.

I still have no job. I'm still trying to get one. I feel slightly less depressed about this. Better upward than downward, friends!

The flu, I has it

Boooo! I don't remember suffering this much as a kid when I got random viruses. I mean, yeah, it wasn't fun, but I barely noticed and then it was over. Now? Stick a fork in me. I'm ready for the bone yard. I also very closely resemble death. It's unfortunate.

I started watching The Walking Dead. I am hooked. It is my guilty pleasure. There is a small problem though. I started watching during a free preview of the channel it is on. I no longer have that free preview. There is nothing else on that channel that I wish to watch. The episodes are for sale on iTunes, but it takes 18 hours to download 1. I have kinda crappy internets. Not sure what will happen. Stay tuned.

Obama for another 4 years. This is a relief. Romney is askeery.

Happy Wednesday

I don't have much to say

This is getting ridiculous. I need a farking job. Anyone need their own personal research biologist?

No?

Your loss :p

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: