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At Least She is Thankful for Something...

Today I was standing outside Pumpkin's Hebrew school with another mom, waiting for our children's release from their grade one class. My companion's son came running out first, waving a piece of paper in his hand.

"We wrote a letter to God!", he beamed, obviously proud of his accomplishment.

The other mom and I read the letter together:

Dear God,

Thank you for my wonderful life! I love my life! Thank you for my good health and my family too! I love them all so much. I am so happy with everything.

I'm not in the slightest bit religious, but this letter was so touching for me that tears welled up in my eyes. How nice is it that this little boy feels this way, and how proud must this mother feel that her son expressed such wonderful emotion?

Then I braced myself for Pumpkin's letter. It read:

Dear God,

Thank you for bread.

This Will Not Hook Me on Phonics

Check out the spelling list for Pumpkin's grade 1 class this week:

Not Even Technology Can Save Me!

I hate that I have become a cliche. Mommy-brain, or call it whatever you want, has sunken in and taken hold. I've been arguing that I just have too much on my mind, which is why I can't keep track of everything, but I'm starting to believe that I'm just becoming stupid.

I write stuff on a paper calendar when I have a scheduled event. Ridiculously though, I sometimes forget to look at it. Not looking at this calendar recently led me to showing up two days early for a vet appointment, 45 minutes away from my house, through rush-hour traffic! Fortunately, the veterinarian took pity on me and saw me anyways.

Last week, I made plans with my friend for her and her kids to come over for dinner. In an effort to be more proactive in keeping my plans straight, I decided to enter the visit in the calendar in my iPhone. I also set the phone to give me a day's notice. I have no idea if the phone ever notified me. I don't even know what this notification would look or sound like. I do know that I probably should have recorded the event on my paper calendar that I at least look at sometimes!

While giving Pumpkin a bike-riding lesson after camp late this afternoon, I noticed a car driving towards my house. I stared at the car for a bit, then turned back to Pumpkin, figuring it was just someone cruising around.

Then the car stopped, the driver rolled down the window, and just stared at me. 'Do I know you?', I wondered. The driver looked familiar, but my friend's funky haircut prevented my mental circuitry from making any useful synapses.

"Did you forget that we were coming?", she asked. I couldn't even manage to TRY to fake it. I could have blamed her hair cut, or lack of familiarity with her car, but I didn't. I just stood there, dumbfounded, contemplating take-out dinner options, wondering what has become of my brain.

More Fun at the Drug Store

Not that any of you are particularly interested in my menstrual habits, but today's funny stems from a recent trip to drug store to purchase some monthly supplies.

The feminine hygiene aisle is clearly marked at this particular store, providing opportunity for any meandering, male customers to avoid it if they so desire. I know that this is kind of a sexist comment, but after long ago listening to a tirade from an ex-boyfriend who was opposed to the advertising of 'girly' products during the hockey game, I have just assumed that guys would rather avoid the subject.

While I stood there before a wall of promised, superior absorbency, I noticed that there were several brands on sale, none of those being my usual. This disrupted my intended quick purchase as I hesitated to deliberate a possible switch of such a personal item, one that I had been using since the day that my mom bought me my first box back in grade eight.

As I pondered, an elderly man came walking towards me, complaining about how impossible it was to find anything in this place. He stopped right next to me and stared at the same packages that I was staring at. Feeling embarrassed for him, I joked, "Well whatever you're looking for, it's probably not in this section! Ha.... Ha...". He walked away, leaving me to my thoughts about brand loyalty vs. saving a whole dollar.

Maybe a minute later, yes I was still standing there, the elderly man returned. 'Awkward', I thought, dreading his approach, already thinking about diffusing any further embarrassment. This time, he didn't stop. He just walked by me muttering something about diapers.

You know what, Buddy? You're on your own!

No Bones About It...

It was a fun end to the season!

Just 'Cause it Made Me Laugh...

From an article in today's Star:

“The tryptophan content in turkey is no more than in any other kind of meat, and yet people have latched onto the idea that it makes you sleepy,” says MacFarlane, sounding exasperated. “The only reason you’re sleepy is because you’ve had way too much alcohol, way too much food and you’re with relatives you don’t like.”

Justification for a Personal Trainer

We have an eliptical trainer. It's a pretty nice one, similar to the ones at the gym, or at least similar to the ones that were at the gym the last time I actually set foot in one. That would be about eight years ago. We purchased the machine to replace my gym membership, figuring that the law of convenience would prompt me to exercise a little more. And I did. For a while.

Then the kids came along, my schedule was no longer, I was too tired, yadda yadda yadda, and so I haven't been as diligent as originally planned.

Today, however, I felt motivated enough to dig out part of my neglected coolmax wardrobe, and hop back on that machine with the goal of not feeling so decrepit upon getting out of bed each morning.

Perhaps I had managed to convince myself that I haven't been quite as lazy as I actually have been, because I had a major shock when I pulled up my I.D. on the eliptical's computer for the purpose of updating the information. It showed my age as 34. I'm currently 38.

That last break was a doozie! At least my recorded weight from 4 years ago is higher than my current one! Imagine how much lower it would be if I hadn't spent the past four years sitting on the couch with a bag of chips!

Home Ownership is Fun!

At the beginning of this week, we initiated our plan to rip out the circa 1982 bar from our basement, with the intention of making a better play space for the kids. It was an unsightly bar, and we weren't planning on hiring a bartender, so why keep it?

Well, there was a fair bit of mould within the particle board constructed bar, so our handyman thought it a good idea to pull off the baseboard from the wall behind the bar, just to see what there was to see. More mould.

Based on that, we decided to rip out the carpet that was near the bar, and install a nice new floor for the whole area. There was mould almost all the way through, which led to the removal of the sub floor as well.

With mould now being the greatest concern, we thought it would be good to cut away a couple of feet of drywall from the walls that we knew had previous water damage, just to verify that water was no longer getting in, and that it would be safe to patch up the walls and install the new floor.

The foundation was clearly leaking.

So, it would appear that we have to now dig up at least one side of the house, but probably all four. We also have to rip out all of the basement drywall and insulation along the perimeter, such that we can dry everything out before repairing it. I imagine a demolition team will be here in the next couple of weeks.

Is it too late to hire a bartender?

It's a Start

Happy New Year, everybody!

I obviously took a break after the namopoblowme thingy, but supposedly I'm rested and refreshed, and ready to play again. I always need to start slowly after a break, so let me start with a piece of advice:

If you happen to have strep throat, even if you are on the mend, wasabi is not the recommended food of choice during this time.

See Ya Next Year, or Possibly Sooner

Well, the end of November is here. You know what that means??? I can finally shave off my moustache! What a bedroom buzz kill that was!

In unrelated news:

That's all for now folks. Cheerio! Now run along!

A Good Day for Pumpkin-isms

So here's a fun idea for some of you: If you happen to have both a wedding video and a five year old, put the two of them together and make notes of the conversation that ensues.

Pumpkin has been asking me if she could see the video of me walking down the aisle, which I agreed to, but then forgot about. The video turned up today in a search for something less important, so I went ahead and showed it to her.

During the video I was hit with an onslaught of questions as Pumpkin navigated the customs and traditions of our ceremony. I tried to keep the explanations simple enough for her to digest, but there were always more questions that only Pumpkin could think of.

"Why did that person walk first? Why did they stop walking there? Where are the children? That man gave you rings??? Are there enough rings for everybody? Why is he the only one talking? Did he say that you couldn't talk? Why are there flowers? Why wasn't I there? Did you know that you wanted children when you got married? What's he saying now? What does that mean?"...and on and on and on....

Then Pumpkin started worrying about her own wedding. Not so much the wedding as the actual marriage. "Mommy, I want to have a wedding, but I don't want to not live here!" I've heard her voice this concern before, so I told her again what I told her the last time that she worried about this.

"Don't worry Sweetie, you and your husband and children can live with us!" I totally don't mean that and I know that she won't take me up on it, but it's funny at this stage. Let's hope it remains funny.

"Will we sleep in the same bed?", Pumpkin further inquired.

"Y-y-you and your husband will. Yes, you will." I stammered, feeling uncomfortable all of the sudden.

"But I have toys in my bed!!!", she protested anxiously, as I burst out laughing. Then she felt the need to add, "Auntie Mel sleeps with toys! They're her best friends!"

Hey Auntie Mel? Good for you!

***

At dinner time, Pumpkin was still talking about marriage, but had moved on to the issue of making babies. I believe in honesty with regards to this subject, but I also believe in offering only as much information as necessary, with the end goal being a drastic change of topic.

"Did you have your wedding, and then wake up to find a baby in your tummy?", she began, assuming that the wedding ceremony was the catalyst for baby making.

"No Pumpkin. We decided to have a baby after a few years of being married", I answered.

"Well how did it get in there?", she asked, as part of me died inside.

"Daddy put it there.", I replied matter-of-factly, realizing that my rules for honesty were being bent somewhat.

"So you just woke up and found a surprise baby in there???", she deduced.

"Uhmm, no. I knew that he was putting it there...", I trailed off, imagining the creepiness of what Pumpkin was getting at. The conversation thankfully ended at this point.

So please allow me to say it for you, 'Birds and bees talk FAIL!!!!'

View From My Kitchen Window This Morning

Pretty cool Wordless Weekend shot, huh?

If Never Thought I'd Miss the Days of Dora and Diego

Pumpkin has made the move from baby-ish television shows to 'big kid' cartoons. This change has somewhat been an annoyance for me since the old channel didn't have many commercials on it, and the new one is chalk full of ads designed to sell every toy that they make in China.

In the wake of Pumpkin's appreciation of more 'sophisticated' cartoons, the other night I decided to record Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving special, something that I was sure that she'd enjoy as an after school treat the next day. How could she not love the same show that I grew up on?!!

The next day I sat down with her to watch the show, which she seemed excited about at first. I also had dinner cooking at the same time, which I got up to check on a few times. One time when I came back from the kitchen, Pumpkin was gone. I found her playing with her sister in the other room.

"Why aren't you watching Charlie Brown?", I asked in disbelief.

"Because they weren't showing any 'girl' toys! Only stuff that boys like!"

"Are you talking about the commercials????", I asked

"I'm talking about the toys that they show!!!!", she shouted as if the English language was something new to me.

She actually was talking about the commercials. She wouldn't sit through a classic episode of Charlie Brown because of an ad for a Glow Dome and some superhero action figures.

In the words of Charlie Brown, "Good Grief!"

I Try to be Nice, But Not THAT Nice!

I worked in sales for a good chunk of my pre-mommy life. I wouldn't call myself a go-getter, but I think I was fairly successful because I am approachable, friendly, and pretty good at chit chat. If it weren't for the fact that I grew to hate all the customers, I'm sure I'd still be at it in some capacity.

Despite the disdain that grew out of spending too long in the same roll, there were still a few customers that I enjoyed talking to. They were the ones who were also friendly and approachable. We chatted like friends when we did speak, and the customer service aspect of the call always seemed incidental to the conversation. Jim in Saskatoon, who happily gave me his local's point of view on Theresa Sokyrka's career, was always a pleasure to serve.

Anyhow, now that I have become a professional consumer, a title that I just invented this minute, I try to be the kind of customer that I always enjoyed helping out. I attempt to engage salespeople in humourous conversations, hoping that I brighten up their day in some capacity. My belief is that this is not the norm, and not everyone knows how to take me.

The woman in the vacuum repair store made me feel like I was from another planet when I shared with her the danger of seeing my dog, Taz, on the second floor of my house. If he's up there, you can bet that he's looking for a place to drop a load as punishment to the family that has neglected to put him outside for the past six hours. I was there to get my carpet shampooer fixed! The story was relevant! It's not like she was even busy!

My tactic goes the other way too. I swear on my life that I do goofy, not flirty, but I still send the wrong signals sometimes.

Today, I was at a hardware store buying resilient vinyl flooring to repair the damage that I did back when I turned on the irrigation system this year, and figured that I'd share my story with the sales guy. He took this to be an invitation to tell me everything about himself.

He is a grandfather in his 40s due to regrettably getting married at age 18. His marriage lasted 8 years and he has been single for over 20 years. Somewhere in there he asked me if I was a single mom. He continued to explain that when he meets someone new, he lives with them for a year because he now knows that if it is too much of a struggle in that first year, then it isn't gonna happen. Next he complimented me on my make-up, and went into details of his previous job, where he worked along side MAC make-up artists, and how too many women wear their makeup incorrectly...

And then I got a call on my cell from Chichi's preschool, asking me to pick her up as she was really unhappy and lethargic. I explained this to the sales guy, assuming that he would know to hurry the fuck up.

Instead he got into how he is a health and fitness buff, and that he has written a book on the subject. He continued to explain the miracle effects of Vitamin C, and how I should give more to my kids so they don't get sick and all I wanted was my receipt so I could go pick up my miserable, sick child from her goddamn school!!!

I sure as hell hope that someone else is delivering the floor!

Money Talk 101

Pumpkin spends a fair bit of time at my mom's house. Recently, she was over there, fretting about the fact that my mom has the most basic cable package, and doesn't get the cartoon channel.

My mom explained that it was a way of saving money, and that not everyone has enough money to buy everything that they want. She subsequently found something for Pumpkin to watch on PBS, which made Pumpkin happy enough.

You'd think that this would have been the end of it, but later that night, I found Pumpkin in her room, ransacking her piggy bank. "What are you doing?", I asked.

"Getting some money so we can buy Grandma some cartoons!"

***

The other day, I was grocery shopping with Pumpkin. I remarked on apple sauce being on sale, to which Pumpkin asked, "What does 'on sale' mean?"

"It means that it's cheaper than usual.", I explained.

"Oh," Pumpkin replied. "Grandma likes cheap!"

Culinary Laugh of the Day

"Mommy, why do you have so many cookbooks?"

No clue, honey! Now shut up and eat your Alphaghetti

The Thing That I Hate About You

I know that I get some traffic on this itty bitty blog o' mine. I average about 30 hits a day, and a good two thirds of those hits are deliberate. The rest are people hitting the 'Next Blog' button, or people just googling, "Mac and Cheese". I'm not sure why anyone does such a vague search, not adding the word 'recipe', or something more specific, but whateves. I'm not here to talk about them.

It's you that I'm pissed at. That's right! YOU! I've got one more full week to go on this Nablopomo thingy, and I've gotta tell ya, the first three weeks have been very unrewarding. I know that people don't really comment on blogs like they used to, but I need external validation! I just do! My dad telling me that SOME of my punch lines are kind of funny is not enough!

I think I make it pretty easy too! I posted my anniversary, and got one comment! One! How hard is it to offer me a generic, congratulatory wish when I spoon feed you the opportunity? Then I posted a picture of my adorable Pumpkin. That should garner a few people commenting on how stunning she is. I got one comment there too, and it was the same person who wished me a happy anniversary! BTW, thanks Petite Gourmand! I'd love to say that my linking to your site will boost your traffic, but who knows with this ungrateful crowd!

So that's my rant. I've got seven more posts to go this month, and I want comments! And if you don't...well...I'm going to only post pictures of my neighbours cats and stories about potty training from here on in! I'll do it too! And maybe a few pictures of clowns as well!

(Also, a shout out to Barrie, Ms Diva, Lacochran, Leighchee, Chantal, 1001 Petals, D, and J for making a half-assed effort. Y'all don't suck as bad as the rest of 'em!)

A Cheaper Way to Party

Whenever shopping for over the counter meds at the drug store, I always grab the extra strength version. I've never actually understood how someone could grab regular strength when the 'mighty extra strength' is sitting right there on the same shelf.

Would you like us to do a half-assed job at curing whatever ails you, or would you like to go with something that'll kill it totally, and offer you a good night's sleep in the process. Always seemed like an obvious answer to me.

I think I get it as of today though. As it turns out, I have been thinking like someone who almost never suffers side effects. Something has changed in my old age though.

It started about a year ago when breast feeding became a thing of the past and I went back to indulging myself in cold medication whenever required. About the same time, I noticed that whenever I had a cold, my heart rate had the occasional increase when I was just lying in bed doing nothing worthy of an increased heart rate. When I mentioned it to my doctor, he told me that it was probably the stimulants that are typical in cold medication. Hmmmm, I doubted. It's never been an issue before.

Anyhow, yesterday I visited someone with cats, so I popped a couple of antihistamines, extra strength, of course. As a result, I felt pretty stoned during our visit, and was completely zonked when I slept-walked my way to bed last night. I only just shook my hangover at around 4pm today. So yeah, yet another indicator that I'm getting older. Low drug tolerance.

So I wonder if I can replicate my grade 9 experience of getting drunk on two Wildberry coolers again? Worth a try!

Nothing Like a Recital After a Long Flight

Last month when we took Pumpkin on a trip to Winnipeg, we left our car at the Park n' Fly. It's pretty convenient, and often cheaper than an airport limo.

On our way home, we got into town later than Pumpkin's bed time. Her eyes were red, and we could tell that she was desperate to sleep. Then she had to experience the wait at baggage claim. Then she had to wait for the shuttle to return us to our car.

By the time the shuttle arrived, Pumpkin was spent. All she wanted to do was get home. The driver asked, "Is everyone here going to valet?", to which we all nodded our heads. Then Pumpkin started acting up a bit more, if that was even possible.

When we finally found our way into our car, Pumpkin calmed down a bit. I kept assuring her that we would have her in bed very soon, to which she replied, "Good! I'm so tired and I thought that I was going to be up even later because the man said that he was taking everyone to 'ballet'!"