Year in Review

Well it's that time of year again. 
   As you may have already discovered, Christmas season always brings the annual Christmas newsletters.  They show up in the mail (on time no less) showcasing a picture of a photo perfect, smiling family and each paragraph boasts more successful ventures then the last.  For some reason their toddler doesn't decide to stick her finger up her nose in EVERY photo!  Usually when reading about how little Timmy has mastered quadratic equations is the same time I notice that my daughter has used her hair as a napkin (you try not to freak out when her head is covered in red ketchup and you mistake it for blood)..
    I've always wanted to start a newsletter tradition of my own, however, I've been waiting for some boast worthy news.  This year I decided to try to work with what I got.  So far it hasn't gone as planned.  For starters my newsletter is already late: I aim for Christmas and I'll be lucky to get one out by February.  Second of all, I don't plan on mailing it, just putting it out there in blog form.  While trying to come up content, my first gut reaction was to grab a newsletter from a more successful family and pass it off as mine.  After all, one cannot brag about ones ability to double fist frozen cookiedough and chocolate chips while breastfeeding.....

So here is a summary of 2012 for the McRidout family:

Arrival of Jo Jo: 

We welcomed our third child this April.  He hasn't done anything amazing such as create cold fusion or win a peace prize but he is sitting up on his own and boasts a total of 3 teeth.  He's got such a sweet smile that I'm sure he'll charm the creator of cold fusion into giving him credit hence earning me a spot in a nice retirement home.  He is my precious son, hence I have spoiled him rotten (I regret nothing!).  He's sure cute now but I'm sure it won't be when he's a toddler.  His real name is Joseph however, we decided that we should give him a girly nickname that should follow him well into university (Jo Jo isn't that bad, I use to call Lily gummi bear because she had no teeth).   

Oh yes he's cute now....

however at 2am in the morning when he's screaming because he hates his crib, its not so cute!

Arrival of the BAT (Big ass truck)

Oh yes, the truck.  As mentioned in previous blogs, much to my delight, my husband traded in our zippy Jetta for a Big Ass Truck.  Now I know how Jack's mother felt when Jack came home with magic beans.  Apparently a reasonable size truck meant big enough to house a family of four in the back to my husband.  This monster of a vehicle has pretty much condemned me to being a pedestrian since I can barley manoeuvre my stroller without crashing it into a wall (just the other day I ran over someone's foot in the mall, I'm pretty sure I'd get more then an eyeful of stinkeye if I did that with the truck).  The other issue is it is wedged between a fancy sportscar and a pole in our parcade which pretty much wife-proofs it.  It took me so long to figure out how to get it out of our underground parkade, that I forgot where I was going in the first place. Glug glug glug..what's that? I can't hear you over the sound of my truck.  Just watch your feet, I don't want to crush it with my carbon footprint! 
For more BAT chaos click here.

Sorry kids, I spent your college tuition on driving to the supermarket!

Lily turned 1:

It was a year of firsts for Lily. We threw a huge party to celebrate the occasion in February.  However once she hit that landmark she found out that getting old sucks (enter the arrival of her younger brother).  2012 brought the discovery of walking, which lead to running which lead to jumping which has lead to many time outs.  She also started to talk and, well hasn't ceased since.  She now speaks in full sentences and seems to be full of sass just like her mother.  It has created our nightly Mario games that much harder (have you ever tried to play Mario without using colourful language?-ask Dave what S word she learnt tonight).  We started going to Strong Start this September which has provided her plenty of opportunity to terrorise others in a new setting.

Here is Lily at her first birthday party

It's amazing how much they change in that year! here is her in Dec

Lily and Jo Jo

 Lily loves her new brother very much as long as he's not playing with any of her toys, interacting with any of her people or breathing in her general direction.  We constantly have to remind her that she has to respect Joe's right to exist.  Jo Jo adores Lily and finds everything she does hysterical.  In fact I overheard them laughing while I was putting my contacts in only to discover that she had coloured his face using a ball point pen.  While we were playing Mario tonight, we looked over and there was Lily, feeding JoJo water from the dog's dish while he was jumping in his jolly jumper (sure glad I spent all that time and effort sterilising his bottles..).  Lily also enjoys the opportunity to use JoJo as a scapegoat.  Quite often whenever Lily is being bad, her first cry of protest is: "Jo Jo did it!".

The Dynamic Duo

I SO will be employing this technique.  My only concern is that it makes it easier for Lily to distribute JoJo beats

Elijah turned 2

It's been two years since Elijah passed away.  We spent his birthday with my family and had a nice day at Squamish.  We decorated his grave site for Christmas.  As always he remains a big part of our family.  Miss you baby boy!

 

Sister got engaged

After finding this picture on google, it makes my romantic plane ride proposal suck

 Yes, I know it's not really my news but I'm running out of material.  Bottom line is that I got a new brother-in-law to torment.  I've been taking lessons from Lily and anticipating mastering the art of swirlies any day now.  They seem very much in love, which makes sense since she hasn't realised that husbands come with plenty of laundry.  Anyways there's a rumour of maybe a fly by night Vegas wedding so I've been searching the web trying to find her a mullet dress for the occasion.    


It's not class unless its in the form of a mullet

Dave got a new job

Dave started a new job that involves him working out of town for long periods of time.  We miss him while he is away but I don't miss the laundry and dishes that follow him.  Plus we fight way less with a province to buffer us.

Job Search

I've been trying to help out financially, especially since Dave was laid off for a few weeks in December.  I am still trying to find freelance writing jobs but so far no one has found me that funny.  I did however try to venture back in the land of the working and was able to land a job but wasn't able to make it worth my while (turns out people charge money for childcare, my kid's company isn't payment enough).  I have been adding extra income and exploring my hobby of getting rid of stuff by selling it on bidding wars.  I was able to fund most of our Christmas costs this way.  Yay me!!  My husband isn't that impressed that random things go missing in our house and he secretly fears he'll return home one day and there will be nothing but two pillows and a lamp left.

Running

I decided to get back in shape and since I have a complicated relationship with both time and money, running seemed to be the cheapest and easiest method to do so..  Up to December, I was running 10-15km twice a week.  I've done two races: the 10km Terry Fox run and the 10Km 5 peaks run.  Since December however I haven't been out running because Dave is working out of town but as I guiltily opened a bunch of running related gifts over Christmas, it's time to get back into it.  I'm hoping 2013 will bring some new races. 

and finally the biggest change of 2012:

I'm NOT pregnant.

How many just read the I'm and p-word (too scared to put the two together incase that's what causes it) and almost peed themselves.  I'm happy to announce the completion of the McRidout family.  In case anyone is interested, this is the longest period of time in our marriage where I haven't been pregnant.  I'm excited to try out normal people activities such as snowboarding, seeing my feet and eating lunch meat.

2009-2012, long journey but done!

Hope you enjoyed reading my year in review!

State of Davecation

As most of you know, I am flying solo until March.  Dave has followed the gravy train and it has lead him to Alberta.  I swear, he was running towards work and not away from having to deal with the family 24/7.  He's going to be gone for weeks at a time, so it's only natural that I announced our home to be in a state of Davecation.

*Yes, I am aware that I just announced that I'm home alone to the internet.  BUT I have a very large viscous cat and sleep with a very realistic model phaser under my pillow (not toy, after you turn 25 you call them models)*

So what does this mean?  Clothes in the hamper (not beside it), dishes in the dishwasher (not the sink and table) and less laundry (the man takes out a different dish towel for every spill..).  I tend to do less around the house as well since noone is coming home and asking me: "what have YOU done all day"- because I was in the same spot when he left the house (Spoiler alert: in my PJ's eating nachos).  Cooking and cleaning get reduced to minimal operations.  This is the closest to a vacation that a mom gets so I'll take it!

This is how I feel when I don't have to vacuum every other day

This is not the first time he's been away.  But all my Davecations have only been short.  I do miss my husband but I must say, the best times of our marriage is when we have a city or two to buffer us.

Last time I was on Davecation I spent most of my nights staying up late, watching Star Trek and eating nachos (since we have an abundance of salsa, see post on grocery shopping).  I also filled up my Iphone memory downloading Picard memes.
  I also embarked on a little hobby, because after the second night of memes I was getting a little stir crazy.
 I painted Lil and JoJo's second hand train set which I had bought for Christmas.  It was such a good deal but it had looked like it went through toddlergetan-apparently its last owner enjoyed smashing the trains against the wall.  I sanded the trains down and gave Thomas a sex change-hope he likes pink!  The first night of operation jazzify trains was a complete disaster.  Since the toddler was in bed, I assumed that I could leave my painting mess on the table.  I apparently forgot I own a cat. Day 2 of Davecation involved scrubbing acrylic cat paws off our new bedsheets.  The second day of operation "Jazzify Trains" resulted in an acrylic trail around the house. I'd blame the cat however the stronghold of the trail is on the fridge handle. On I side note: I love nachos.
The last day, I realized that I should really vacuum, at least once.  It ended up being an educational day:I learnt how to change a vacuum bag. I learnt that Dave bought the wrong bag size. I learnt you can't force a bag to fit:not with scissors, not with tape-Nope macgyvering a vacuum bag will get you a bigger mess than you began with.
Lets not forgot about my constant state of throwing away things or selling them on bidding wars for a dollar...

I'm surprised that he trusts me home alone or at least isn't a bit scared to come home.

So now I have full reign of the house.  I already decorated the house for Christmas, sold a few of Dave's items, but now...now I'm bored.
I could vacuum...
look for a job...
cook dinner...
be a mother to my kids...

NAW!

I think it's time for a prank.  Before Dave left for Alberta he was a bit down.  He temporaily forgot how terrible the kids behave (or is in a state of denial) and was a little worried about missing them.  Actually he was acting like he was leaving forever, moping about as I danced jigs around him...In fact, the kids were being utter thugs at the dinner table when he told me he was all sad that he got to eat at restaurants and would miss dinner time.  Really? Can I go instead? 

So I was thinking I should do something like in the movies where the hero returns to Earth from Space after a long journey only to discover that things are not at all like when he left.  Like the world has been taken over by bugs.  Something completely bizzare like when he comes home we're vegetarians...or worse Vegans.  So I have another few weeks to convince my family that vegetables are more then a way to layer meat...oh forget it, it would be easier to convince bugs to take over the world...

So I intend to enjoy my Davecation, or at least until the place becomes downright hairy with cat fur and I get tired of eating canned chili over the sink (or my parents get tired of myself and the kids).

Safety and Starfleet

 The following entry is a possible submission sample for a science fiction blog.  I'm still debating on submitting it.

I was doing my usual nightly routine of eating Ritz Sandwiches and watching Star Trek, because, honestly, when you have kids that is what your life gets reduced to.  Not that I'm complaining, without children I would be doing the same thing except I wouldn't have to pause the PVR every two minutes to make sure the kids aren't sticking anything into electrical outlets-we kind of let them run feral...However, my two year old can tell the difference between a Romulan and a Vulcan, so I consider my job as a parent complete.

Anyways, we have been watching a lot of Star Trek TNG and Voyager since that is what the Space Channel is playing (and NO we don't have Netflixs because we live like cavemen).  We started to notice a pattern, of the 'Safety First' variety.

Does Starfleet not have a Workers Compensation Board or some sort of safety committee keeping a tab on them?  Do Safety regulations and fines not exist in the future? I'm seriously starting to doubt if they have any safety protocol in place at all.  If the WCB that we have in Canada was alive and kicking in the 23rd century, they would be having a field day.  Maybe they still exist in the future but are too busy chasing after roofers to put on safety harnesses to bother with the star fleet, but has anyone stopped and thought maybe there is a reason why ensigns with no name tags are always in such high demand?

For those not aware, Workers Compensation board sets up safety regulations in order to reduce workplace injury, create a healthy and safe environment and to protect those injured while at work.  A lot of the practices on the Enterprise would not meet up to present day standards.
First, let's look at The Bridge:  there is always at least one officer standing.  Take Worf for example-the Chief Security Officer is standing at his station, they don't even provide him with a swivel chair! I've seen some grocery stores where the cashiers get swivel chairs.  Maybe they have a better union?  I'm not sure about you, but if I was in a battle the last thing I would want is the person in charge of lasers and shields to be ass over feet.  Also, have you seen the size of Worf's cranium? Would you really want to risk that flying into the back of your head at warp speed?

It seems like in every episode at least one person is getting thrown around on the bridge whether regular, guest star or doomed ensign.  In "Evolution", Dr. Stubbs takes a piece of furniture in the face when the ship is rocked by an explosion.  Why wouldn't there be some regulation that everyone has to sit at their post during turbulence or at least strap Worf in with a safety harness?  There is also a clear lack of seat belts, not only just on the bridge, but in engineering.  You'd think a starship's "Red Alert" would be akin to an airplane's "Fasten Seatbelts")  (maybe they have the same logic as being on a bus-why do you need something to strap you in when there are 30 people in front of you to break your fall?).

Don't get me started on Wesley Crusher, I had to wait until I was 16 to drive my parents' shaky old K-Car.  He gets to drive a galaxy class space ship with a crew of 1,000 and no one bats an eye.



Now the uniforms, I have never understood them.  Maybe I missed the episode where they explained it but, from what I understand, there is nothing special about them.  I'm not sure about the rest of the Trekkie community, but in my household this is a hotly debated topic usually sparked by any episode involving an away team.  You would think that with all the technology in the Star Trek Universe, they would have wonder-suits.  Maybe it's because I don't have HDTV, but from my end it looks like they are made from pretty standard material.  Not only that, but they can't be comfortable-I have invented a drinking game:  drink every time Riker has to adjust his uniform.  Don't even get me started on how skin-tight they are, many-a-time I have been hypnotized by their moobs bouncing up and down during a corridor walking scene.

On Away Missions, I've always thought that they should be wearing a HAZMAT suit or at least gloves.  I remember when I was a Vulcan for Halloween one year, my mom made me wear a jacket under (yes UNDER) my Star Trek pajamas-apparently the officers have more faith in their uniforms shielding them from the elements than my mom did.

Back on topic, how come they aren't better equipped?  Yes, you can roll your eyes at me and tell me they have sensors and tricorders to warn them but I have seen enough episodes where their sensors have failed to pick up the giant hole in the middle of the path.  For example, in "Shades of Grey", Riker got stung by a thorn and almost died.  He was wearing his standard shoes while wading through a bog-why the heck wasn't he wearing hip waders?  You couldn't pay me to walk through alien sludge without a few inches of heavy duty plastic protecting me.  Also, look at the Voyager episode "Parturition".  Here they are going to some alien planet where they know the atmosphere is an extreme skin irritant and they are not even wearing HAZMAT suits.  You'd think they'd pack a space suit or some head gear just in case something happens, like they crash (spoiler alert-they do!).

Besides the uniforms, it has also amazed me how unprepared they are when they beam down.  Here they are in some foreign world in some sketchy situation and they don't even have an emergency backpack with food rations and a fresh change of underwear.  Hasn't anyone ever asked "Hey what if we get stranded here? Shouldn't we at least bring some snacks so we wouldn't have to resort to eating Ensign Whatshisname on the first day?"

Shall we also look into the number of times someone has escaped via transporter or shuttle craft?  Take "Deja Q," when Q takes a shuttle craft to lead the Calamarain away from the Enterprise, he was already in the shuttle and half way from the ship before Worf noticed.  I can't even get through airport security in under an hour, yet someone who is not even a crew member can stroll into a shuttle dock and jack a shuttle?  I don't think I could even hotwire a car that fast.  Also look at "The Bonding".  How many times did the aliens try to take Jeremy to a transporter room before somebody clued in to shut it down.   Either there is a serious lack of safety protocols, or maybe Worf drinks on the job?

Anyways, with Riker consistently pulling down his uniform, Worf's cranium bashing into things and people taking shuttle crafts for pleasure rides, the safety infractions are plentiful.  If anyone wanted to make some money in the 23rd century, they should get a contract with Starfleet, offer safety inspections and start handing out those fines.

Why hasn't a Ferengi thought of this yet.

Bidding Wars

 
   So I've found myself a little hobby.  A few months ago someone invited me to a Facebook group called "bidding wars" and next thing I knew I was hooked.  Some may say it's an addiction but I disagree.  I do it socially....I can quit anytime.  That's what I tell myself and quite honestly that's what I believe.
 What is bidding wars?  Basically you post an object of mild interest for a ridiculously low price and let other addicted Facebookers fight over it.  Sometimes you get a killer deal on objects, make a little extra Christmas cash or pay $5 to take someone's trash to the Salvation army (or your consignment store of choice).  That's the thrill-will EUC (Excellent Used Condition) actually be a valid description or as realistic as a character you would find in a Dr. Seuss book-Cat's don't wear hats, everyone knows they wear boots! 
     So far I've made $100bucks selling $400 worth of objects.  Since Dave is currently laid off, I made more money than him this week.  I am the breadwinner!  Kids, this week we eat meat and not from a can at that!

So why is it addicting? 

  Part of the problem is the lure of getting a good bargain.  A lot of people are selling mainly because they want it out of their house so they will post cheap.  Sometimes you score a brand new snowsuit for $6, other times you get suckered.  A brand name dress for a starting bid of $1?  Missing a strap? no problem.  Rip down the back? minor inconvenience.  Infant poo splattered over the front?  It's a buck! it usually retails for $200!!  It's so hard to say no.  Often times I find myself bidding just because I see that it is only $1 and what could possibly go wrong? 
    Sometimes things don't stay cheap for long.  When the bidding gets hot and the prices skyrocket and all of a sudden it.is.on.  Now you realize that you cannot live another second without having an electric nail trimmer in your life.  You have been living like a caveman, a recession housewife without one, and everyone else is bidding so it must be a great bargain for the best product in the history of this planet.  Once again it is so hard to say no and all of a sudden you realize that you are about to draw blood over a "hang in there kitty" poster which evidently is now going to cost you 600 bucks.
    Now for the selling.  Equally as addicting.  It is way less aggravating then Craig's list and trust us, we need the extra cash. Dave told me his dream house was for sale and if I choked on my food and died, he could collect my insurance money and be able to buy it. Luckily living with Lily has taught me to sleep with one eye open. Regardless I'm going to make sure to cut my food up extra small until said house sells...  

   I often find myself pacing around the house mumbling "what else can I sell".  Or more importantly-what else can I sell that I won't get busted for selling.  You can tell Dave is getting a bit nervous.  As I touched in other entries, I think he's scared I am going to sell anything that isn't bolted down.  I am just waiting for the day I catch him super gluing things to the floor.

Res-dismay

So I've started hunting for a job.

My husband and I mutually decided I should go back to work.  Actually no, it was more like Visa made the decision for us.  Apparently we like to spend money.  After closely inspecting our statement with a highlighter and a look of disbelief, I realized that if we wanted to keep eating food that doesn't come out of a can and feature a picture of a dog, I would have to find a source of income.  Not only that but we have an expensive data plan to support.  Not so shockingly I also found over a hundred dollars worth of McDonalds on there.  So...Visa not only believes that we're deadbeats but have atrocious eating habits as well.....

At first I tried finding freelance writing jobs but no one seemed to think I was funny, which is weird because quite honestly I find myself quite hilarious.  I raised some money on an online Facebook page called bidding wars. I made a hundred dollars before I ran out of stuff to sell. Everything else was soon bolted down by my husband who became quite nervous that he would come home to everyone sitting on pillows because I had sold the couches.   Having no skill other than hawking junk and writing sass, I went to my fall back plan-find some peon work where it didn't matter that I have spent the last two years philosophizing if the wheels on the bus still went 'round and 'round.  (Spoiler alert: they do!!)

So cue in the great job search of 2012..more like the mediocre search of 2012.  The first few weeks involved me looking at Craig's list and deciding that most part time jobs I were looking for involved a little too much lifting.  I would look at the computer and groan because I was pretty sure I was the first mother in the history of motherhood that had to go back to work.  But my laundry would miss me!  Luckily my husband assured me that my dirty laundry mountain would still be waiting for me at the end of the day...

I have a little bid of hesitation about re-entering the workforce.  Making the switch is never easy.  I remember the first week I was off on maternity leave.  I walked around the house with a lost look on my face and a pile of blank papers that I would fax to random numbers (after Lily became a toddler soon the pages would read: help me).  I also had no idea how to time my coffee breaks since there was no work that I was trying to avoid.  Now I have to do the reverse: get use to faxing documents instead of playing name that stain (spoiler alert: it is never chocolate).  First of all, the whole wearing pants thing will be a challenge or any article of clothing devoid of baby puke.  Also as a housewife I make my own hours.  Yes my toddler often demands overtime or my baby decides that I'm working a night shift, but once again, the pants...oh the pants.  I've been off the payroll for two years busting my butt for nothing more than a sippy cup thrown at my head and being called a stinky butt.  Yes if I go back to retail it will probably be the same except with adults but maybe it would be nice to get a paycheck at the end of the day. 

The first hurtle was of course the resume.  On my first round of EI in 2010 the government made me go to this job search course that was suppose to give me a resume that would amaze potential employers and make them want to hire me on the spot.  By this they obviously meant a resume that looked like I rolled it in dirt and then threw up on it because that is exactly what I got.  In fact, I ended up with a resume that would only be good if I was applying at a mental hospital...as a patient.  I ended up just using the same resume that I created in highschool.  Then the cover letter...I always have difficulty with this one because I feel like I have to kiss butt.  I wish I could just write: I can do this job, let me be great!!!

Next roll in Craig's list.  It is hard not to get distracted by the grammatically incorrect, misspelled ads or the employers who want you to have a PHD, 10years of experience but only want to pay $2 an hour.
How could one not troll?
After wasting a few nights of writing comical cover letters to certain ads I remebered what I was actually suppose to be doing.
So I applied for a few select places, wrote a clever cover letter and sent my resume on its way.  So far I've heard nothing, but luckily there is always a spot for me here, at home, during the toddler power hour.

So wish me luck, hopefully I will find what I'm looking for.

Car-tastrophe

  It was Saturday morning and Dave decided to wake up before me and let Lily out of her cage-by that I mean I slowly kept rolling over until I pushed him off the bed.  Regularly, most mornings involve a disgruntled me releasing Lily to attack a peacefully sleeping Dave. Dave has become desensitized to Lily's regular tricks which involve bum drops to the head, however I have recently discovered the most effective method is to ask her "where is daddy's eyes?".  This immediately prompts her to poke him in the eyes-the only things that would actually wake him up.  But this morning was different, it was me that was avoiding a pre-breakfast eye gorging.  Anyways she looks at me and utters the most feared phrase in the English language "watch cars?" followed by that toddler nod which basically lets you know that this is more of a command than a question.   

We have made a grave mistake...

     We showed my car obsessed toddler the Disney movie Cars.... Oh yes, it was oh so cute to watch her memorized-mouth open, drooling or her panic when MacQueen gets lost.  Oh yes, we had a good chuckle.  It was actually a refreshing break from a girl whose normal morning routine involves running laps, throwing her cup off the table during breakfast and then trying to jump on my back when I bend over to pick it up.  However we then realized that what all those parenting books say are true: kids love repetition.
They love viewing the same thing again and again and again....and again and once they are done they still want to watch it again.  Lesson learned: maybe it is time to actually read those books instead of using them as coasters.... 
  The adult human brain can only handle so much...yesterday we watched the movie three times.  I now have the movie's soundtrack permanently stuck in my head.  When I go to bed at night, I don't count sheep, I count mini Lightening MacQueens running laps around the track.  I have gleefully thought of over a hundred ways that I could destroy the DVD, a hundred ways to hide my crime-however I fear the repercussion which no doubt would be Lily beats.  It has gotten to the point that whenever I see a car featured from the movie in real life, I have to resist the temptation to let the air out of its tires.  At first I found the movie witty, charming and funny.  However after a week of being on a car only diet, I now find it the equivalent to medieval torture...I often wonder why these movies don't have multiple endings, like maybe 50 of them so I could at least change it up once in a while.
  While Lily is awake, no other program is acceptable.  Don't you even think about trying to watch reality TV.  Don't ask me what happened on Extreme Cougars, it's still on my PVR,  I haven't even been able to watch Liz and Dick to make fun of it (because that is totally why I recorded it..).Our usual after dinner viewing of Star Trek has been met with protests of "NO SPACESHIP".  After 30 minutes of whining and gnashing of teeth, we finally cave thinking it would be easier just to watch the movie.  However after 5 minutes we decide that Owen Wilson's voice (which use to be sexy to me) is worse-it now makes my teeth hurt...

Zoolander is now ruined forever to me.

I won't be able to watch Wedding Crashers without cringing.

I'll never be able to stand Larry the Cable Guy...oh wait, I never was able to stand that guy.

 
    I think that's worse, when you start recognizing the voices behind the animated characters.  Watch Shrek. Now tell me if you're able to take any of Eddie Murphy's movies seriously anymore...all I picture is the donkey.  Good actors out there-please stop doing voice acting gigs, us poor parents end up having to listen to you over and over again and then when we go to watch our grown up stuff there you are again...

*ahem*

Okay Lightening MacQueen someone needs to take you to the wreckers before I finally go looney and start having conversations with Dave's Big Ass Truck.
Send help or send more DVDS.
Until then zoom zoom, around in my brain Lightening will go!

Day at Dentist

 
    I woke up this morning with the full knowledge that today was going to suck.  Why would I be so pessimistic at 7am (well beside the point optimism doesn't happen until the number on my clock ends in PM)?  Simple-I had a dentist appointment-with a dentist-involving filling my teeth-from holes created by candy (apparently they add holes to your belt as well).  Even for those cups half full people, I think they'd find it hard to spin getting cavities filled as a fun Friday activity.  Anyways, any visit to the dentist isn't a good thing-  I've turned that age where every time I go there's an issue.  And today there was an issue, well two ones.  Since the day was already a scratch I had candy for breakfast-thank you for not pointing out the fundamental flaw in this logic.  After running through a list of things I'd rather do instead (including dragging my butt across hot coals-the same feeling I get after I eat at Boston Pizza) I put on my big girl pants and dragged myself there.  Okay fine, technically it was my mom who did the dragging.  Her only comforting words were "at least it's an hour without the kids".  Seriously? Are my kids that bad...okay don't answer that question...
  So whats the back story? Besides being a mentally well adjusted person who dislikes paying good money to have that awkward flossing conversation while someone puts instruments in your mouth while asking you questions, I am nervous around dentists.  Scratch that- I am terrified CRAPLESS of dentists.  Don't get me wrong, my dentist-he's a nice guy, I just think he's a little drill happy.  I'm not sure where this fear came from, it's not like I've even had an incident where I was in a lot of pain.  I think half of it is the sound and smell and the weird sensation that while you're numb you still feel things moving and pulling.  I mean I have a pretty high threshold for pain.   I gave birth 3 times with no pain killers whatsoever.  But honestly it's a different kind of pain.  When you deliver a baby you expect to get a healthy baby after so the pain has a purpose.  The dentist? you're lucky if you get a plastic ring (I still remember the age when I got cut off from getting toys-tragic day).  Most time you're lucky to get flavored fluoride rinse before they hand you a bill which may or may not involve trading in your first born.
     So I get there and get ushered into the small examination room.  My dentist's office remains a relic from the 1970s.  I expect during one of my visits a tour group will walk by examining the history of dentistry.  The first thing the dentist asks me is "what are we doing today?".  This is sort of scary-I mean shouldn't he know this?  I didn't nap through 3 years of dental school and really? if it was up to me I'd be going to McDonalds.  So I gave him an honest answer-"I'm going to poo myself.  I hope you have a better gameplan" The dentist finally clued in that this all might be easier if he gave me an ambien-a good idea since I flinch even when they spray water in my mouth-just in case it hurts.  I took it and when he returned he asked how I was feeling to which my response was along the lines of "screw this cavity! lets hit a club".  However there are no clubs open in Maple Ridge at 11am and I still have holes in my teeth.  Anyways they leave me in the room with a mouthful of freezing and a drug that magically removes the amounts of cares I have to give. To make matters worse they turn on the ceiling TV.  At this office they always have National Geographic show playing and SURPRISE this one was all about jumping spiders! So here I am in a small examination room, a little high and now watching jumping spiders on the ceiling in HD quality.  Well I think it did the trick doctor, I forgot about my cavities for a moment.  I ended up waiting in that small room for an hour.  While I waited I got to enjoy the best magazines and celebrity gossip from the early 90s.  Naw, I'm only joking there were a few that talked about Russel Brand and Katy Perry's upcomming wedding.  Anyways I'd see ads for TV shows and get interested until I discovered they were already cancelled years ago.
  So finally after an hour the dentist comes in and by that time I've worked myself into believing he's going to remove all my teeth.  He comes in and in under 20minutes he's done.  All the while I'm listening to him complain that he hired a mechanic to fix the dental chairs and they're telling him to replace them.  Umm... these chairs looked old in the 70s, maybe the guy has a point?  Watch, next time I'll be lying on lawn chairs.
Anyways I survived and don't have to go back until April.  However my bottom teeth on the other side are having sympathy pain.

Date Night

Enjoying a drink but still thinking about my kids: not because I miss them but because I'm worried about the revenge they will have on me for not including them

Dave amd I got to do something last night we don't often get the opportunity to do: spend some time away from the kids.  Actually it's something I don't get to do often, Dave gets an 8 hour break everyday when he goes to something called work.  Anyways we had a date night, four blissful hours where I didn't have to play name that liquid on my shirt (hint:  the answer is almost always pee).  We were invited to an grown up function with grown ups at an grown up restaurant which didn't have tablecloths you could write on.
  Date nights are always risky business.  I mean they usually happen at the end of the week so we're walking the thin line between date night and fight club. 
 Before the date night can even begin there are certain hurtles that one must get through:

• Getting Ready:  Date night often comes with a dress code and men and women often have different ideas in regard to it.   I don't think I'm the only woman who can attest that their husband almost never wants to dress up.  They'd rather show up in sweats-actually if it was socially acceptable they'd probaly go out to dinner in their underwear.  Me on the other hand would prefer to wear something fancy.  This is because I don't get out often and when I do I'm usually in yoga pants that while have never have seen the gym are still quite good at stretching-around my butt of course!  Once you come to an agreement on the dress code dilemma that excludes any awkward incidents of showing up to the restaurant with you in a ballgown and your husband in cut off shorts, one must execute the act of actually getting dressed.  Trying to find something to wear is often a feat in itself.  For me I have to create an outfit using articles that have no stains on them and is not a throw back to the era before you had kids since that was around the same time you stopped buying clothes or buying them at the same place you buy your produce.  Lets not forget the toddler who is running around and the baby screaming because heaven forbid he hasn't eaten in 5minutes.  My carpet is nicely painted with my MAC eyeshadow.  Also as I was curling my hair Lily was rolling Joe down the hallway..
• Next comes the complement: Let's face it the chances of the husband getting this correct is slim to none.  In fact for the husband it's dead man walking because if he says the wrong word then date night ends early with him on the couch.  Dave has yet to mastered the simple phrase "your hair looks nice", apparently even in the face of mortal danger my husband cannot lie.  Lets give you the background story: I use to have long hair and Dave loved it.  After Joe came around I got tired of looking homeless since I barley could find the time to brush it let alone style it.  Fed up I choped it short and quite frankly I don't think Dave has forgiven me for that yet.  Anyways whle I love my short hair for the day-to-day life, I have diffculty making it look fancy.  There is only so much you can do with short hair so I'm always fishing for a complement.  The best Dave could give me last night? You look like Jamie Lee Curtis.  Really? That's the best you can do?  What's the first thing you think of when you hear her name? The bowel health yogurt. When someone asks you to name a hot actress would Jamie Lee Curtis be the first name that pops in your head?  He said from her True Lies days, okay one foot out of the grave except the fact she played a boring homely housewife.  Great, exactly the look I was going for.  I could have saved myself an hour of prep time and just went as myself.  So I told Dave he looked dashing-like Matlock.
• Finally, the kid drop off.  This is very important because you have to convince the unsuspecting grandparents that in fact your kids are not thugs.  This is an art form in itself since you have to make sure to drop them off when they're not cranky.  Of course it will be the one time when Lily actually wants to hang out with me.  The most important final step to this is turning off the cell phone, yes the restaurant is in a tunnel with no reception....

  When you finally get to your destination you feel a bit...lost.  In fact I saw something I don't usually: my bare forearm.  Infact I barley reconized it without a blankie, diaperbag or toddler drapped over it.  Once inside the restaurant, you have to relearn how to socialize at the grown up table.  It took a while to relax, with a toddler you learn to sleep with one eye open.  That and when you see someone reach across the table your kneejerk reaction is to grab any sharp cutlery away or try to stop the person from hitting the closest person because in the toddler world those are the first things you do when in a group situation.  You also don't want to talk too much about your kids either since you don't want to admit that you've become "one of those" even thought I clearly am.  However get a few drinks in me and I'm ready to jam out to the latest club track, which I'm assuming is still wheels on the bus.  Dave and I actually got to our function 30minuties early-so we had an opportunity to have some alone time.  This was spent trying to convince each other that we were still as fun and exciting as when we first met without admitting that it was 7pm and we were both ready for bed or that we were missing the latest antics of our reality shows.    
    Finally there comes the time when you have to reach that decision that it is time to go home.  It usually involves calculating when your parents have safely tucked the kids in bed.  So that was our excitement this weekend.  Seriously I barley remember life before kids, I'm assuming it's much like life before facebook-you use to go out a lot more often.

Supermom

   We live in the age of the so-called Supermom.  If size zero models are the media's way to tell us to put down the Twinkies in order to be perfect then the supermoms are the media's way of telling us how parent in order to keep CPS off our doorsteps. 
Supermoms can do it all.  It started off as being defined as: 

A mom who takes on the selfless and unconditional responsibility to nurture the emotional and physical well-being of her kids.

Which makes sense except for the selfless and unconditional responsibility part.  I mean I skipped out of Strong Start the other day so I could get coffee...but its Pumpkin Spice season, it's a seasonal flavor people!  However this definition has morphed into an even bigger monster: supermoms now are expected to cook, clean, take care of the kids, run errands, help with school projects all with get this: a smile on their face.  Not to be confused with Superdads which is basically any man that knows how to make a bottle and insert it correctly into baby.  Supermom's never roll their eyes at mother goose songs, refuse to take their child to strong start until her second cup of coffee or change the ending of four little ducks to them getting put into a happy meal (that will teach them for going over the hill and far away).  They mix education with fun and add in some organic apple sauce, handmade of course.  Their kids don't eat worms and most certainty don't dump sand on other kids in the playground and if they did she certainly wouldn't laugh and say "yeah kids will do that".  Plus I'm pretty sure they've never been recognized at the McDonald's drive thru.    
   Just like the gazelle legged model on page seven, the Supermom is pretty unrealistic.  Just Google supermom and you'll come up with scary articles about how mothers are more stressed out nowadays and are having trouble coping. Did I mention because of that Supermom comes with her sidekick Mommy Guilt?  Oh you know her, she's the one that "tsk tsks" you when you're watching Secret Princes instead of Baby Einstein or shuns you when your 20month old can say McDonald's perfectly because you've stopped for happy meals at least twice in the past week....
  To be honest, this post isn't about Supermoms, it's about her nemesis Mediocre Mom.  Step in me.  I love my kids, I love being a parent but I think its unrealistic to be expected to do everything perfectly.  Motherhood is a full time job with very bad hours.  On the 16th hour of your shift in any given job you are going to get frustrated when your toddler looks at you defiantly while dumping her dinner on the floor.  And I personally couldn't say "lets make this an educational experience and turn the spilled pasta into quadratic equations" (more like lets count mommie's eye twitches).  I honestly got exhausted when I was looking up definitions and came across this list this one lady compiled.  I'd link it, however I'm scared she would hunt me down with a homemade bow and arrow.  Lets just say it involved doing your laundry while your baby was in something called a sling! Whatever happened to good ol'fashioned days of yelling at your husband to turn his underwear inside out to get another days use out of it? And if I'm doing laundry I'm certainly not taking the little one on a magical educational journey of how a washer works, if anything we're discussing how the unpaid economy of being a housewife sorta sucks.  Did I mention that in the post, said sling was purchased on ebay? I smell a borderline hippy..My cooking isn't from scratch either.  My specialty dish comes from the frozen food asile and I couldn't let my kids cook with me because due to strong language it would be PG-13.  A subset of the supermom is the helicopter parent.  These are parents that hover over their children, ensuring they don't miss an opportunity.  These parent's are perfect if you're tired and need a nap-you just dump your child in their vicinity and pretend to concentrate real hard at the wall and POOF free childcare.  I guess I should get down to my point since I'm tired and you know I'm on call tonight-My advice to all the stressed out mommy's out there- relax, be a little more mediocre, we all know that all the organic, free-range, handblended applesauce in the world won't save your kids from being snarky teenagers. I mean we should as mothers recognise that its okay to be selfish as long as your kids are not wearing plastic bags for shoes because you spent all your money on booze and McDonalds.  And honestly its okay not to smile to "the wheels on the bus".  I don't know about you but I relish the day they invent hover cars so I don't have to listen about those wheels going round and round.


Seriously, I doubt the Supermom is part of a union, if so she would be in trouble for stealing everyone else's job..

Just checking in...

downfall of distracted parenting

 The draft of this blog was written while I was sitting on the toilet.  Yes, I'm serious, no I'm not doing...that.  Lily's having a bath and I have lifeguard duty.  I've been wanting to write a blog entry for a day or two now but nothing really out of the ordinary has happened.  Just status quo.  Yeah I've been busy but nothing really that funny has occurred and since this isn't twitter I just can't list what I ate today, since this isn't Facebook I can't tell you where I ate the food and since this isn't instagram I can't take a picture of what I ate and pass it off as an entry.  I've been going to Strong Start regularly or as I'm calling it this week "toddler fight club" but there is only so much I can touch on that subject, plus isn't one of the rules of fight club is that you can't talk about it.  I wouldn't know, I'll admit it right here that I have never seen the movie myself.  Unless it features a real housewife or a zany penguin in it, chances are I haven't seen it.
  But back to writing this:  I'm in our cramped bathroom that smells like used kitty litter and I have to pause every few seconds to remind my toddler of the dangers of standing up in the bath.  Does this count as "me" time or do I get partial credit for trying?  I mean when you have two demanding kids under 2 there is little time to stop and smell the roses before one of them stomps on them because some kid taught them that's what you do with flowers.  Finding time for yourself becomes as challenging as trying to remove your child from the swing at the park: not impossible but you have to be pretty sneaky (and have snacks, toddlers love snacks).  Being a parent is awesome but it doesn't leave much downtime, sometimes you have to sacrifice your old needs for a little while.  I've slowly begun to learn that you have to find moments in your day to claim as your own or at least share with your child.
  Some may say that I'm doing the worst thing: stealing time from my toddler and I should be dedicated to the task at hand and not my own selfish needs.  First of all, are you one of the managers I use to work with that use to lecture us on time theft? Second of all parenting, is a 16hour a day job (if you're lucky enough to have a child that sleeps) with 24/7 on-call responsibilities.  As someone who used to have a job, I know that even in a 8hour day we find little ways to claim time as our own.  So I'm writting instead of reciting alebra equations while teaching my toddler French while she has a bath, you're probaly suppose to be making me a latte but instead you're checking your facebook, same thing...
  I tried to do my blog writing after the kids went to bed.   By the time Jo-Jo was asleep, I'd have 30mins of me time because I wanted to get to bed at a decent time so that I didn't resemble a cast member of the walking dead in the morning.  So here I am multitasking. 
Now if you exuse me, I have to get back to work, Lily is trying to use the soaker tub incline as a slide.

Grocery Shocking

  I'm desperately trying to delay the inevitable but I know it all too well-it is time.  Our shelves are bare and I'm debating whether to make some rice with ketchup or pina colda mix since those are the only ingredients we have on hand.  It is time to do the chore I hate most-grocery shopping.  Being told to go grocery shopping is like when you're working and the manager tells you they just kicked a hobo out of the customer washroom and get your gloves because you better go check it out.  Yes grocery shopping, it seems like no matter how much food we buy we always end up eating it.  I'm seriously thinking we should pick up an eating disorder to cut back on the amount of times we have to do it.  Grocery shopping makes anything else seem enjoyable.  When I need to get a cavity filled, I think I will go grocery shopping first so I have something to look forward to afterwards.
     Back in the day when I was single, grocery shopping was so much simpler.  Well, since I'm being perfectly honest I lived at home until I was 25 so most of my grocery shopping was at my mom's pantry.  Actually scratch that, a bulk of my grocery shopping is STILL done at my mom's pantry (I have no idea why your Costco bill is so high mom and if you're reading this please disregard the above paragraph...).  However I still did some grocery shopping on my own, mostly because my mom didn't buy the foods a refined palate such as mine required-such as cookie crisp cereal, redbull and Doritos.  When I did go grocery shopping it was almost a novelty, it would take me under 10minutes to grab the fixings for mac and cheese and instant noodles.  I would laugh at the worn down looking mom pushing a mammoth cart with a screaming toddler hanging from her ankle as I skipped down to the cashier and paid for my diet cola and cookie dough.   
  Those days are long gone.  Grocery shopping has now mutated into a biweekly (if I can help it) ritual of torture.  Now we're feeding 3 people and I'm head of the feed-everyone-make-everyone-happy committee. I not only have to cook the meals that are different and exciting but make sure that my family is not surviving off ketchup packages.  Let me explain the process...  
    Before I can even step into the store I have to do the list.  The premise is quite simple, when you're running low on an item, you add it to the list conveniently located on the fridge.  The list is a great way to remain organized and it ensures you're never standing in the frozen food section muttering "need more frozen pizza".  In theory it works wonders, in theory.  In practice it  is a complete work of fiction made up of items you wish you had in your fridge during the midnight snack hour.  I never keep it updated and if I run out of something I end up promising myself I'll remember to add it to the list later (which is never conveniently on the fridge like it is suppose to be care of Lily).  As you can guess the items never make it to the list and I end up winging it which is why there are currently 10 bottles of BBQ sauce in our fridge.  For some unexplainable reason I think we are forever out of BBQ sauce. Dave also has a bad habit of taking the last of something and leaving the empty container in the pantry.  Which means that unless I open the box and do a count I never know for sure if we're out or running low.  Sometimes I do practice what I preach and compile a beautiful supply list.  However this list is almost always forgotten and I end up scribbling what I can remember on a crumpled up napkin on my way to the grocery store to buy some more BBQ sauce since surely we must be out.  On weeks I'm feeling really energized I compile a dinner meal plan.  The meal plan consists of me trying to get Dave to suggest meals he wants other than the standard "something good" and "whatever" fare (which he demands every week).  It also is suppose to help cut the grocery bill because you're only buying what you need, avoiding waste.  However it doesn't take in account the nights we say "screw this" and order pizza letting our good intentions go moldy at the bottom of the vegetable crisper.
  Next step is actually getting to the store.  Preferably on a Sunday (the busiest time), at night and when the kids are the most cranky or tired.  If you can't make it for Sunday our second choice appears to be Wedensday, the day before restocking so the produce is nice and spongy and the store looks like it was hit by a hurricane and then backed over by a B.A.T for good measure.  I have tried very hard to find the sweet spot to go grocery shopping.  Seriously it is a formula more complex then a quadraic equation.  It goes something like this:

• 2 Kids (wellfed+good mood) + grocery shop (quiet+sales/anyday but Sunday or Wednesday)+daytime=stress free experience

Now because I am bad at math we end up following this formula:

•  2 kids (tired+cranky*hyper)+just before bedtime+ Sunday (store busy+produce rotten+out of stock)-sanity-patience=Typical shopping experience

Regardless of how much planning I do, it always seems like we're back at the shop on Sunday trying to decide which stock of celery is less brown and if we can subsitue our usual brand of yogurt with sourcream and add chocolate quick mix to flavor it.
    Now grocery shopping is a family event.  Mostly because Dave has to be there to use his discount card and he also is the driver.  I tag along because if he went alone he'd return with ice cream, a loaf of bread and BBQ sauce because surely this time we must be out.  The kids come along because the government looks down at leaving them at the apartment under the watchful eye of the cat with a bowl of water on the ground and the TV on.  The problem with Dave coming along is he increases the price of our grocery bill.  I'm cheap, I'll buy just the basics, but Dave will go all crazy and buy things like strawberries.  Seriously I have to audit what goes in our cart.  Strawberries?  I hope you're working overtime this week!  Now you didn't forget about the children did you?  Don't think they're little cherubs sitting in the cart with their hands in their lap.  Lily is watching everything going into the cart and demanding a bite then freaking out when you try to explain the criminal code and why we can't just eat something without paying for it.  When she's not trying to open a package she's dumping items out of the cart making this whole exercise counterproductive.  She also likes to try to launch herself out of the cart or grab things as we pass by laughing hysteically as she toppels a row of canned tomatos.  Joe is will usually sleep through most of the trip only to snap away when we get to the cashir and demand to be fed resulting in me bagging my groceries with one hand.  If you don't submit to Joe's first cry he will start yelling in a pitch only heard by the CPS.  By the time the whole ordeal is over with, we are so exhausted and fed up.  I'll never forget the time we were done bagging up everything and just about to leave and Lily tossed a container of cottage cheese on the ground and it exploded everywhere.
   Because we avoid grocery shopping like the plague and only do it when the only things left are a moldy apple and BBQ sauce, we usually have a ton of groceries.  We'll fill an entire cart up and the bucket of our stroller.  When it's time to pay it will be above $200.  I am always shocked and demand Dave to explain what he bought that was so expensive because surely there is an unauthorized purchase in there somewhere...We take our cart which looks like we're stocking up for the rapture and cram it into our BAT which for once in its life is too small to fit everything,  I end up having to sit in the middle of the front seat redneck style all the way home with a stack of frozen pizza in my lap.  Now for the worst part-getting it upstairs.  Yes we have to carry everything across the parkcade, up the elevator down the hallway-with two now ballistic children singing "are we there yet" in scream-minor.  Two trips you say?  While the smart thing to do.  We end up loading our stroller and trying to carry as much as we can possible lift and pleading with Lily to please hurry up and not push the elevator help buttons.  We then get through the door only to realize that we forgot to by milk, the main reason why we went to begin with.
  As you can see I'm sitting here trying to think of all the many excuses not to go today.  I think I need to phone the dentist, I may have some teeth he needs to drill out....

  

Because its good for you....

     So this may very well be my last blog entry.  I have my first trail run tomorrow so I'm pretty sure I might like, die.  My sister asked me if I had viewed the altitude information for this race.  Altitude? What does that mean? Altitude is a measurement of height (or at least that's what the guess that I pulled out of my butt said), so I think she's subtly trying to tell me that there's hills or better yet, one big hill.  Oh my....I'm seriously questioning my sanity and even more so questioning my husband's who has done no training whatsoever.  I guess after I'm done writing this I'll u-tube some videos about blood dopping.  Even thought my sister is in way better shape then I am, I'm still somewhat competitive so I either need to get my hands on some performance enhancing drugs or hire someone to break her knee caps.  What?  I got her a nice birthday gift....
    So what have I been up to lately?  Well mom stuff.  Remember when you mom made you do stuff that you didn't particularly want to do but she told you it was "for your own good"?  Well that's payback for all the stuff she had to do for your own good when you were little.  Seriously, at the moment I'm taking Lily to a whole bunch of activities outside my comfort and sanity zone just because I know it might make her a little less of a thug in her future.
    I started Strong Start last month or as I refer to it in our case Weak Crawl.  There are two programs: morning or afternoon.  The afternoon one in my opinion is mislabeled. It starts at 11:30 which technically is still morning, or at least in my world it is.  11:30? who wants to run after kids when you can still taste the toothpaste in your mouth.  Then there is morning Strong Start that begins at 8:30.  That's 8:30 AM, AM as it opens before the bank even does.  I have yet to make it on time.  We beat our record this morning by getting there at 9:30-apparently we only get up at 6am for afternoon Strong Start.  Usually we stroll in around 10am just in time for Lily to beat some poor kid over the head with a plastic baby.  Strong Start is another one of these programs that is so good for the kids and Lily loves it.  The downside is basically I'm spending the whole time playing referee with a below acceptable level of caffeine in my system.  There is something about another child playing with a toy that transforms it into the most desirable toy in the whole entire universe.  A kid could be holding a ball of lint and Lily would think it was the best thing since sliced bread or something straight out of Mordor.  The other day we were on the playground during outside time and Lily made a breakaway while I was trying to put JoJo in his stroller.  She ran into a classroom that had left the door open to let in air and attempted to knock over one of the kids who was using an exercise ball as a chair.  At least Lily has inherited my feelings towards hippies.  But seriously?  we don't use chairs anymore? We sit on bouncy balls?  Can one truly concentrate when you're bouncing? Okay kids...boing...open to page 2....boing.....for history...BOING! Anyways we made quite a ruckus when I had to remove her from the classroom with her kicking and screaming while holding Joe who was also screaming in solidarity.  Today Lily really embarrassed me.  She has this tendency to go into my closet and wear my underwear as a necklace.  Anyways I was rushing as usual, trying not to be too late and I shoved her in her stroller without doing my last minute inspection.  I get there and let her out and one of the moms goes to me "your thong".  Instinctively I pull up my pants and she's like "no, around your toddler" and sure enough there was Lily parading around the room with my underwear on display.  Already however I have noticed that Lily is getting better around children so I can suck it up.  It's better to have her socialized then to sit at home in my PJ's watching realtity TV....I guess.    
    I also went to this free program called "Mother Goose".  Basically you sing a whole bunch of songs and dance around and pray for death that never comes to rescue you.  I joke, I joke, the kidlets love it and the people who run it are wonderful, however if I wasn't a bit snarky about it you wouldn't be reading this blog.  I'm just amazed that the songs haven't changed that much since I was a kid.  As I've commented many times, the wheels on the bus are still going 'round and 'round.  Also at the Kentucky fair the senorita with flowers in her hair is still shaking it like a milkshake which makes me ponder just how old that lady is now. It's been over 25years and that itsy bitsy spider is still crawling up the water spout except they have a new version of the song dealing with a humongous spider which is creepy on all sort of levels.  It's bad enough when we sing the song Lily barks so apparently it's a barking spider that has mutated into the size of a adult female.  So how did Lily like it?  It's hard to tell.  She basically stood in the middle of the singing circle lifting up her top yelling boobies.
  Anyways, when I'm old and grey I'll make sure Lily escorts me to all the activities the senior center offers to help keep my brain sharp.  When she groans and rolls her eyes at me I'll remind her that she has to take me because once upon the time I did the same thing...and besides it's good for me and might make me stop accidentally putting the remote away...in the fridge. 
  That being said, I'm off to rest before my race, I'm sure when I'm running up that hill inbetween swearing and crying I'll be humming Mary had a little lamb wondering why she hasn't made that thing into lamb chops.  Maybe she's vegan, like my crazy sister who got me into this mess (running that is).

Smashing Fashion.

So I have been watching a lot of "What not to Wear" because I am an emerging fashionista. Okay fine I enjoy the storyline. Okay fine, daytime television sucks. Okay fine, I'm too lazy to get off the couch to see which toilet Lily has dumped the remote. However it has made me one of those fashion offenders: I watch how to dress shows but in reality I'm rocking out the sweat pants and crocs. Yes Stacy and Clinton, I do know all the rules, I just choose to break them because I am a rebel.
As I covered in previous posts, my body has changed a lot. For the first time in 3 years I am not pregnant and actually being smart in preventing it (no mojitos etc). After I had Joe and that scary post-pregnancy month passed (you know the one where you still look 6 months pregnant), I inspected my closet. On one side I had all my clubbing clothes from my single days and on the other side I had all my maternity clothes and nothing in between. Since going to Strong Start in thigh high boots and hot pants is not an option (or at least an option I'd want to explore, after all this is Maple Ridge we're talking about), I decided it was time to revamp the wardrobe. Another deciding factor was seeing some of my clothes featured in the before "what not to wear" segment. So I'm in the process of re-vamping my fashion.

Easier said then done.

For my birthday I requested one type of gift: nice, grown up looking clothes. My family kindly obliged and I did get some items to jump start my new style. Problem is I'm too scared to wear them. See there's a reason why kids clothes are so cheap: kids spill stuff on them and stain them. Most clothes get through one wear before turning into an abstract painting of what Lily ate that day-Lily just runs around in a diaper at home because I grew tired all her clothes turning that nice grey color from constant washing (no I do not separate my colors when I throw them in the wash thankyouverymuch). However kids also spill stuff and stain YOUR clothes but the cheapness rule doesn't apply. Kids are attracted to everything new and nice and can't wait to get their hands on it. I'm scared the day I wear my nice dress is the day Lily has spaghetti and tomato soup.
Also I don't go anywhere especially if it doesn't include the phrase "kids eat free" in their motto or tablecloths that aren't paper....
Kids don't care if you're dressed nice or not as long as you have fruit roll ups.....
Joe eats all the time so my clothes are always hidden behind a breastfeeding blanket...
I got a structured jacket that I love but I fear that it makes me look like a real estate agent....

What is my other issues? Well, I'm glad you asked.
Jeans:
Try getting a pair of jeans that don't contain the adjectives "skinny" or "low rise". Both term don't always work when you have young kids. Young kids require a lot of chasing, bending over and lifting so it's hard not to flash crack. It also doesn't contain the post-baby "fanny pack". There is a reason why moms wear mom jeans and it's very hard to resist the temptation not to wear them. However try finding a mid-rise that doesn't violate decency laws when you find yourself trying to contain your toddler after you tell her it's time to leave the park. Kali's tip: Low rise is five finger widths from belly button and mid rise is 2. Anything above a two is mom jean territory.

Jacket:
My mom HATES my jacket or as I call it "old faithful". I got it in West Edmonton mall for under $40. It's a plaid Roxy knee length coat. I've had it before I was married, before kids, I even wore it during all my pregnancies (not zipped up of course). It is now faded, worn and stretched and is starting to make me look a little homeless. Every time my mom nags me to toss it I tell her I'm adding another year onto its lifespan. I finally feel like I can let it go this year. With the big trend on motocycle jackets and structured jackets it's tempting, I guess only fall can tell. Also I have all these fancy jackets now but as mentioned above they make me look professional so I feel I little bit silly wearing them since my only business meetings include bosses in diapers.


Shirts:
Has anyone noticed the thin shirt epidemic invading all the stores lately. I'm not just talking about cheap brands either. It seems like there is a cotton shortage. I have tried many tops on and I find that if they aren't see-through then they hug to every curve and bump I have. Yes, you can go up a size but then its too baggy and you end up looking like a melted candle (plus remember clothes that are too big on you make you look bigger!). Also if they have a place where your bust goes my boobs always fall under it. I guess that's when you shop in the junior section-they expect your boobs not to be best friends with your ankles.

Anyways because I'm such a keener, I decided to do some homework and research some of the top fall trends of 2012. Okay, that's sort of a lie, I really was trying to find reasons not to vacumm. Here's my take on Glamour's trends:

• PVC Raincoats: one word comes to mind: tarp. Okay that and plastic mumu. I remember I had a PVC raincoat in highschool, I loved it until I was walking to school one day and a friend commented that from far away she thought I was wearing a trash bag. Looking homeless is exactly the style I am trying to avoid.
• Graphic Sheath Dress: So wrong on so many levels. I've seen these before on manikins in stores and it makes them look like they had a heavy lunch. Let's just explore the meaning of sheath for a second: "close-fitting covering or case." Yes based on that definition on dictionary.com I'm sure it would look absolutely great on me.
• Cozy Sweater: This is a trend I can really get behind if it includes snugglys (or is that snugglies?). Yes, if it's now socially acceptable to wear one out grocery shopping then that would be awesome.
• Belted white dress: Obviously the people at Glamour don't have kids, or don't have my kids, or have never rode on a bus or eaten a meatball sub...Nothing pairs better with a toddler then a perfect white canvas. Did I mention I also don't sort my laundry? It all goes in at the same time..I guess I could wear it once and then wait until multicolored greyish dresses are in style..
• Bohemian Print dress: You know how I feel about hippies. What's winter's trend? burning the bra?
• Polka Dot sweater: Once again, I have no problem with this style. It makes finding spit up and mashed fruit bars harder to spot.
• Silk Trousers: All I can think of is panty lines or a mean case of hungry bum. Have you ever owned something silk that doesn't ride up in a spot its not suppose to be?
• Tuxedo Style Blazer: Perfect to wear while scrubbing toliets since nothing is classier than a tuxedo..maybe I can pretend I'm rich enough to hire a butler...
• Over sized clutch: The strap fell off my diaper bag so I'm already following this trend.
• Ankle boots and cropped trousers: My fellow "what not to wear" watchers, you know the story with these two. They are the fastest looks to convert a short woman's legs into tree trunks. Yes they cut off your legs and make you look shorter and when you look shorter you look wider. Great, I have short legs, remind me to put off shoe shopping until next year,

I'm still waiting for "What not to wear" to have a Canadian version of their show so I can send them in my demo tape. Until then I will be waiting in my mom jeans and my t-shirt with only two holes and one tomato sauce stain on it. Come find me.

For some reason these clubbing relics are still in my closet.  Not sure where I can wear them to,,,

Getting in Shape

   Two things happened in the past few years:  I had kids and I entered my late twenties.  I honestly can't tell you which one was harder on my body.  Little fetuses are like those uninvited house party guests: they make themselves comfortable, trash the place and usually have to be forcefully evicted .  And age?  Well age just doesn't let your body bounce back as much.  Sure I'm back to my pre-pregnancy body weight, however my body is not anywhere near the same: maybe it is.... just everything is an inch lower.
   Anyways I promised myself 3 years ago after Elijah that I would get back into shape..then I got pregnant.  After Lily I promised I would get back into shape....then I got pregnant.  Now that Joe is here and we honestly couldn't fit another baby in the apartment (unless it was to become patio baby) I am finally holding myself to this promise.  I will get into shape!  For the first few months after I had Joe I wore all black.  People asked me who died?  I told them black is slimming but if you wanted to be technical I was mourning my pre-baby body.  Yes you can lose the weight, however those jeans in your closet from when you were 18 will still look like sausage casing plus it will force body parts in different places they shouldn't be making you look like a Picasso.  And can I just comment about the fashion this year?  Seems like all the material either is sheer, thin or contains my mortal enemy: spandex.  Oh yes the new jersey material dresses are comfortable but if I have to wear a spanx turtle neck just so you don't see my belly button outline it sort of defeats the purpose.  And skinny low-rise jeans being the latest trend? Perfect! because I dont have enough to worry about.  Now I have to worry about bending over at strong start and projectile launching my jean's button and taking out someone's eye or splitting my jeans answering the question where babies come from.
   So I started running.  Why running? It's a weird activity for me when you consider that I do not have the grace and speed of a gazelle but rather one of an elephant.  Well it all comes down to two factors:  time and money.  You see gyms cost money (today's shocker...Tomorrow's: the sky is blue!), and most look down when you attempt to use the treadmill while eating a hamburger.  Also by the time you drive (or bus) to the gym, get changed, get the latest gossip on who's butt looks bigger and get in your 60minutes of cardio, you're looking at almost 2hours!  Plus in Maple Ridge there appears to be a dress code at the gym.  People actually look well put together with makeup and shorts without holes in the crotch (what? my thighs rub together when I run).  With running, as soon as you leave the house, you're working out and you can stop by your closest McDonald's on the way home. Plus 20minutes in my run when my face is purple and my breath resembles a death rattle, I don't have to worry about someone attempting CPR or calling an ambulance.  I end up running at night because that's when Dave is home and it usually starts to get dark.  A few days ago I got stuck behind another jogger that was slightly faster then I was.  I felt like a totally creepator since I was trailing behind her panting heavily (what? I was out of breath).  She however, probably set a new personal run time record trying to get away from me.  I must admit, I am enjoying running.  Maybe it's because it's an hour away from the kids and I can enjoy my music and my thoughts without worrying about what electrical outlet Lily is trying to stick her fingers in.  Plus I am starting to see some results.  I can run about 10km in almost under an hour, while it may seem unimpressive for most, I am actually quite proud.  As for my body?  I still have to decide whether to roll my stomach into either my shorts or my bra but I'm hoping that eventually I'll see a difference in my appearance.  Dave and I did the Terry Fox run together two weeks ago.  For those who know me, know that I do not enjoy running with my husband.  It is because he always looks way too happy and smug, plus he is naturally athletic which means while I've been training for weeks, he gets off the couch for an afternoon and still runs circles around me.  However, running with him hasn't been too bad ever since I installed a non-douchebag clause in our marriage agreement.  This was inspired by last years event where we were running and he started running backwards exclaiming "look! I can run faster then you both forwards and backwards".  In his defense he was flirting, in my defense, if I had pushed him into traffic, no female jury would convict me.  This saturday I have my first trail run which I'm dreading.  My super healthy vegan sister decided that for her birthday we should do that instead of doing the normal activity of double fisting cake and cookies.  We won't be doing it if it is raining and believe me, I've never prayed so hard for rain before in my life!.
  I have also been walking or as I also call it "something I have to do to get places because my husband sold my car for a big ass truck".  Walking is an incredible workout, especially considering right now I'm pushing roughly 77lbs : 25lbs Lily, 12 lbs Joe, 5lbs diaper bag, 5lbs carseat and 30lbs stroller.  The only downside is the whine factor.  Lily has gotten to that age where she has formed an opinion on what she wants to do and Joe, well Joe is only happy when he's being held.  So during my walk I'm usually serenaded by wails of Joe and Lily screaming "I CAN WALK".  Plus I've had to adjust all my walk routes to avoid parks, because that just sends Lily into overdrive.  Lily has also mastered how to escape her 5 point harness prison so she's usually trying to lean out of the stroller or her newest thing: jam her fingers into the spokes of the tire in an attempt to stop our convoy. The solution I've found is to wear headphones to tune them out.  I also arm myself with "shut up snacks": little treats that I can dish out to keep Lily occupied.
  A few months ago I was lifting weight on our personal balcony gym, yes we created a red neck gym on our patio.  I haven't done it lately because I discovered a whole host of shows on our PVR. Actually maybe I should start again, otherwise I may have to go out there and dust everything.....
  Anyways back to the grind.  Busy day at the office today: Joe pooped twice and Lily has just handed me a handfull of all our childproof locks and plugs.