Thursday, May 31, 2012


     I have a small confession to make: I have no idea how much I currently weigh. The batteries in our digital scale are dying and it won't give me a readout. It's been well over a month since they craped out and I have yet to replace them. Part of the reason is because they are those flat circley ones (how's that for pitiful Girl Lingo?) and we don't really keep those in the house- what the hell else runs on those? Another part of the reason is maybe, perhapse just a little bit, I was enjoying the ignorant bliss of not having to acknowledge how little weight I was losing. Or not losing. At all.

     So this week I went for a walk up and down our driveway every day; either pushing Raegan in the stroller while the other two kids were napping, or pulling Dryden and Raegan in the wagon while Noelle was at school, or by myself at night, watching the fireflies blinking morse code in the feild across the road. Tonight I downloaded the "Couch to 5k" app and went for my first run in...2 years? Blarg. I miss the days when running was easy for me. I also miss the days when my bum didn't jiggle when I ran...

     My legs are sore, but I fel good. Top of my "To Do" list tomorrow is to get new flat circley batteries and face the music. I hope at the very least it's music I can jog to.

And yes, you can all be insanely jealous of my flip flop tan lines.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Play Doh: Uniting Mortal Enemies Since 1956

Dryden had a play date yesterday. My niece Olivia is five days older than him and was in dire need of a babysitter. My mother, who usually watches her, dropped her off on her way to Ottawa to visit my brother in the hospital. I got Noëlle prepped and ready for school, got Raegan up - fed and changed her- and dressed Dryden and Olivia for the day. Toys were out, ready to be fought over, a cartoon was on, ready to be watched periodically, brownies were cut, ready to be used as bribes, and a bottle of Pepsi was chilling in the fridge, ready for my potential meltdown.

Everything went well for the first 15 minutes until D & O realized that my mom was gone. Dryden was crying, saying, "Nanny no stay and play?!" And Olivia was crying, saying, "her just left me!?" Ummm, first round of brownies.

The next 30 minutes went smoothly, until Olivia's stuffed monkey tragically lost his arm in an epic game of "Swing The Monkey." I couldn't for the life of me find my sewing stuff and had to admit helplessness. Olivia was crying, saying, "if you was Nanny you could fix him" and Dryden was crying, saying, "hers monkey is dead!" Jesus, round two of brownies. I told Livy that Nanny would fix him tomorrow and put him on the counter next to the bananas. "There," I said, "he said that he's happy. What's your monkey's name Honey?" She looked at me square in the face and said, "him's name, Auntie Ray-Ray, is Monkey and hims can't talk." Her tone of voice and body language clearly said that I was an idiot for even asking. Dryden frowned and shook his head at me, confirming that my question was tactless. I shoved another brownie into my big mouth.

Saku was no help all day either; he was so excited to have another toddler to play with that he caused more trouble than they did. He stole Livy's cup of milk, he ate Dryden's neat pile of crackers, and sneezed on the baby- severely pissing her off. I kept hearing "Kuku sniffed me!", "Kuku licked me!", "Kuku farted!", "STOP IT KUKU!" Round three of brownies to keep the peace. I called the dog into the kitchen and had a heart to heart with him over a shared brownie...I should have baked a double batch.

Minutes late D & O were locked in a death grip over a toy. I knew by the look on their faces that violence would erupt soon so I used the ace up my sleeve: Play Doh. Thankfully we have an extensive cache of Play Doh and no sharing was necessary; each kid got one blob of each color, they each got one Fun Factory set, one knife, set of stamps, rolling pin, scissors, and one Play Doh bomb making set (patent pending.) The next 90 minutes were divine- they played nice, the baby was cute, and I locked the dog outside. Noëlley's van arrived and she was already snoring softly in her seat, and stayed asleep as I tucked her into bed. When I came downstairs, Raegan was zonked out, snoring in her swing. I ushered D & O into the living room and served lunch in there.

Nap time: hissy fits were thrown and I backed off. Instead, I pulled out the futon, lined it with thick blankets and pillows, closed all the blinds and lights, and put on a movie. The deal was that they didn't have to nap, but they had to sit quiet while I ate and tidied up. They snuggled in on either end of the couch and the dog plopped on the floor in front of them. Five minutes later I could hear a symphony of snores from all of them.

The day went really well; we didn't run out of brownies, no major fights, numerous Play Doh sculptures are air drying on our windowsill, and yes, I drank my Pepsi in blissful silence while everyone napped and re-energized.

Thursday, May 10, 2012


     Last Friday I went out to lunch in Barhaven with three friends from university; one of these lovely ladies is moving back to NFLD and this was our last get-together before her migration East. I took Raegan with me so everyone could meet her, and left Nick at home to entertain the two older kids. All said and done, I was gone for almost 6 hours. When I maneuvered our van down the driveway and parked in my spot, I was slightly startled to see Nick already standing at my door, waiting to help my unpack the baby. I walked into the kitchen and was greeted loudly by Dryden (wearing inside-out shorts, one sock, and Nick's toque) running by me yelling like a wild banshee- the dog was in hot pursuit. I turned to look at Nick, only to see that Noelle was engaged in a full body wrap around his left leg as he shuffled awkwardly across the room. She was yelling "Up! Up!" over and over again. I scanned the kitchen quickly: it was a hot mess. I knew instinctively that the rest of the house would match. Nick leaned in real close and whispered, "who's fucking kids are these?! They were horrible today. I don't know how I don't come home from work to a note on the door saying that you quit and have run away forever. How do you get anything done during the day with these three sucking the life out of you all day long? I'm happy you're home- please don't ever leave me."

     A few days later Nick bought me an iPhone. "Ooooo! Is this my Mother's Day Gift?" I asked (I was almost positive that he had planned on getting me something else.) "No," he said. "This is your reward for not running away. It is also a bribe for you to keep doing...everything. I'm serious, please don't ever leave me." It has been a few days since then and a huge abyss of guilt has formed in the pit of my stomach: I need to come clean to Nick, and hopefully after that, he'll still let me keep the iPhone.

1. It usually takes me 12 hours to unload the clean dishes from the dishwasher and reload it with the dirty stuff- longer if the kids help (and by "help" I mean break shit and scatter and/or hide dirty dishes all over the house.)

2. Peanut butter toast for supper? Every Wednesday night actually...

3. I hide dog treats all over the house, especially in the corners. Saku's fur acts like a giant swiffer cloth. When the treats are gone, and my floors are clean(ish) I let the dog outside to shake it all off.

4.Showering is always optional on hectic days. So is eating. Coffee, however, is mandatory.

5. Given the option to nap or be productive while the kids are sleeping, I always choose nap. There are other lives at stake here.

6.Beds do not get made in our house yet. Closing four bedroom doors takes 6.2 seconds.

7. Noelle and Dryden take a ton of baths. Why? Are they filthy? No- they like playing in water and they leave me alone for a good 30 minutes. I sit with the baby outside the bathroom and close my eyes, pretending that I'm somewhere else. Anywhere else really...

8. I almost never read the real words to any story books at bedtime; I insert my own story line for personal entertainment. The Cat in the Hat had a meth problem in our books and Horton Beats A Hoe. Whatever, I only have a few short years to mess with them like this before they can actually read.

9. They also can't tell time, so bedtime varies according to how bad they are. Death and bad karma to whoever teaches them to tell time.

10. I hide in the bathroom a lot. I'm hiding in there right now.

11. I allow myself one "postal" moment per day. I like to think that being perceived as slightly unstable keeps my kids honest and on their toes. "What do you mean you don't want to finish your goldfish crackers? ARE THEY NOT GOOD ENOUGH? I DON'T THINK SO MISTER! RRRRRAAAARRRR!!!"

12. I have mastered selective hearing. I can filter out 95% of their whining/gibberish. Being shit faced in the middle of the day also helps this skill.

13. There are many, many days where nothing gets done. Nothing. Everyone stays in their jammies, they get to eat whatever shuts them up the fastest, and the house is disgusting until they go to bed.

14. Whenever Noelle has therapies at home, I clean like a mad fiend and stuff as much as I can into the dining room and shut the doors- praying that they don't want to use that room.

15. I repeat quite a few mantras in my head to make it through the day. Examples:
9 more hours til bedtime
9 more hours til bedtime
9 more hours til bedtime...

Being a parent is awesome being a parent is fun
Being a parent is awesome being a parent is fun
Being a parent is awesome being a parent is fun...

It could be worse- you could be cleaning up shit
It could be worse- you could be cleaning up shit
It could be worse- you could be cleaning up shit...

I'm going to go drink some beer and play with my new phone now....