New residents in my brain

Definitions, regulations and rules
File in, uniform and in perfect order
See all of the empty spaces

Smile smugly
Unaware of the fate
That truly awaits

In the other room
Where random chaos
Plays the warden

And before a chance to settle in
A whirlwind collects them
And takes pleasure in his work

when wrong numbers become your only entertainment

It’s been so long since I’ve written in my blog, well except the odd post to whine about how busy I am or express sadness over a dear friend. So, this morning instead of studying I think I’ll write. I have until December 10th to study for my final exam, so I have plenty of time, I can study in all of my free time.


When I tell my kids mommy is having free time they may look at me like I’ve grown a third boob but at least it will be entertaining. Although the two and a half year old will try to join me in “free time” which will then consist of him trying to sit on my study notes, throw the blankets over our heads so we can giggle madly and “hide”. Yep, we’re invisible.

So I had something funny happen to me recently that I thought I’d share. It all started on Halloween morning at 3:30 am, when I received an odd text message. The message said “Hey it’s me Eagon, the Irish guy, I just wanted to make sure you got home ok, I had fun tonight”. When I read the message I thought, have I finally cracked? Has my personality finally split and taken separate directions? Since I was sitting in my bed, where I’d been for several hours I figured maybe not. I chalked it up to some drunken guy misdialing after a “fun night”.

Scott and I were grocery shopping the next day when I received another text message, which commented on my dancing skills, and how I had some good moves but needed to work on them. While I agreed with the assessment, I was pretty sure it wasn’t my moves that Eagon the Irish guy had been observing. I suppose I should have texted back and let the poor sap know he had either received an incorrect cell phone number or had written it down wrong.

For the next couple of days, no more text messages, so I assumed that Eagon had realized the situation or forgotten. No such luck.

On Wednesday I was at work drowning in emails when my personal cell phone rang. (I have two cell phones now, one for work and a personal one, I feel kind of like a drug dealer). I don’t have call display on my personal cell, so wondering who would be calling me in the middle of the day I answered.

It was my new friend Eagon and the conversation went something like this:

Irish guy: “Um, hi, I have this number in my cell phone and am just trying to figure out who it is”

Me: “Hello?”

Irish guy: “Yeah, I was just wondering, were you at a club the night before Halloween?”

Me: “Nope, I was in bed sick”

Irish guy: “oh, you okay?”

Me: “Yes, thanks – what can I help you with?”

Irish guy: “are you sure you weren’t out?”

Me: “pretty positive”

Irish guy: “What’s your name?”

Me: “Shannon”

Irish guy: “Nice Irish name”

Me: “Thanks”

Irish guy: “well...what do you look like?”

Me: “Pardon?”

Irish guy: “Well are you tall or short?”

Me: “Short”

Irish guy: “what colour hair do you have?”

Me (starting to enjoy myself): “dark”

Irish guy: “eyes?”

Me: “two”

Irish Guy (laughs): “What colour are they?”

Me: “Green”

Irish guy (talks to buddy in background): “How big are your boobs?”

Me (choking on my diet coke): “I don’t know!”

Irish guy: “Sure you do, are they big?”

Me: “My husband seems to think so”

Irish guy (awkward silence): “You’re married?”

Me: “Yes I am”

Irish guy: “want to have an affair?”

Me (laughing so hard my cheeks hurt): “no. But thanks for the offer – you’re a funny guy”

Irish guy: “Yes, I am. So...are you hot?”

Me: “I have no idea”

Irish guy: “come one, give me an idea, between 1 and 10, what would you be?”

Me: “Uh, I don’t know, a seven (I was being generous)

Irish guy: “oh, you’re hot then”

Me: choking on laughter “Ok Eagon, nice chatting with you, I have to get back to work now”

Irish guy: “Where do you work?”

Me: “I am not going to tell you that”

Irish guy: “do you work at an engineering company?”

Me: “No”

Irish Guy: “Too bad, I could have asked for a job – what business are you in?”

Me: “government” (ok not entirely accurate but whatever, the conversation was ridicules anyway)

Irish guy: “cool, can you extend my Visa?”

Me: “nope, okay, I’m hanging up now, thanks for the laugh”

Irish guy: “Bye, nice chatting with you, sure you don’t want to have an affair with me?”

Me: “I’m hanging up now”

I have to be honest, that five minute phone conversation made my day, I hadn’t laughed that hard in quite some time, so I did what any sane person would do, I called my husband and told him all about it. I also told him that he better be good because I have connections and could replace him at any time. He just laughed, go figure.

That was the sum of the fun and exciting things happening in my life these days. What can I say; I live vicariously upon misdialed phone calls and toddlers who must touch everything. I can’t quite remember a time when I wasn’t surrounded by chaos, but man, there are moments where I wish I could leave that chaos at the door. CALGON TAKE ME AWAY.

Only problem is, my bathtub is tiny, or I’m huge, either way, all my bathtub can handle is me and about an inch of water, so any bath time escape is futile. Besides, when I do try to have a nice relaxing bubble bath I end up with the eight year old on the toilet taking a giant dump, the two year old wanting to climb in fully clothed, the cat meowing on the counter, the phone ringing from the back of the toilet and the husband coming in to nag the eight year old. It’s super relaxing.



Pathetically, that’s about all I have to report. I know I say this a lot, but I really need to get out more.

How to look like a dumb starfish.

As any of you who actually read my crap know. I’ve been conspicuously absent recently here at the home of my blog. To be honest I haven’t done any writing over the past couple of months which is unheard of for me. Usually you can’t shut me up (even duct tape is only a temporary gag) but work lately has consumed all of my time.


It’s funny, many times I wished for the promotion I actually received on June 28th of this year but damn, it’s hard. The job itself isn’t unknown to me and I am capable of doing the job but the work piles up and just when I think I’ve got a handle on it, I look around the desk and table space of my office and sigh. Piled up are projects and file folders, initiatives and principles. Many of these items I thought of in the spirit of innovation and setting a good foundation to my leadership role at work. I always forget when I open my big fat mouth with another idea it means more work.

Now I bitch, whine and complain but truly this past couple of months while insanely busy have been rewarding. I feel like I’m making a difference and I am a part of something worthwhile. Still it’s exhausting to be eating, sleeping, thinking work. I’m not a workaholic by nature, I strive to do a good job and work hard but I’ve never put work first. These past couple of months have been crazy and I’m feeling the consequences now as it takes me over two weeks to get over the flu.

I’m even dreaming work. Do you ever have those dreams where you’re at work, doing everything wrong or naked or doing something really stupid? Please say yes, or I’ll feel like a total nutcase. Anyway, I’m having dreams all the time so when I wake up I feel like I’ve already been at work for hours! Why can’t I dream about fun things, like sleeping?

So, as you can see I’ve been a barrel of laughs. I got sick a couple of weeks ago when I had a week off, boy do I know how to have a good time. I’m pretty sure if I’d told Scott we were going to spend the whole week in bed for our time off together he would have pictured something totally different than reality.

Have you ever had a cold sore? I get them now and again when my immune system has been down, but it’s been a couple of years. Well luckily for me I made up for lost time, I got a cold sore the size of a Buick last week, which was especially fun given I was in a Manager’s course networking with other Manqgers. Nothing says “sexy” like a giant scab on between my lips and nose; although for once other people got to speak, because I was too worried about drawing attention to my beauty mark.

In totally unrelated news the two year old has taken a liking to Sponge Bob Square Pants, which is just super. It’s Logan all over again where Scott started to relate our life to Sponge Bob episodes. “This reminds me of that episode of Sponge bob where Patrick....”

Speaking of Patrick, have you seen those lovely “Snuggy” blankets in the stores or on tv? Who actually buys that crap? I saw one the other day that was bubblegum pink for breast cancer awareness. Excellent cause but if I wore the pink snuggy I’d look like Patrick Star (see picture). Not to mention then I’d be tempted to wear it places like Wal-Mart.

So my two year old (who likes Sponge Bob or “babob” as he calls him) also have some favourite sayings. “eeewwww grosh” and “okeydokey”. That kids cracks me up. Except when he decides he’d like to be attached to me like a leech. Like this morning when I was puking my guts into the toilet bowl while trying not to throw up on Finnegan’s head. That was super fun.

As I often say, I need to get out more and if I’m going to feel like I drank a litre of vodka yesterday I wish at least I could have enjoyed the fun of it first. Now I’m off back to bed, I’m apparently in a competition with the two year old to see who can have an earlier bedtime. I’m winning.

Mittens the destroyer - goodbye my friend.

My companion, confident and friend, mittens the destroyer, 18 years old, which they say is old for a cat left the living today but it wasn't nearly enough time for me to spend with him. He listened when I needed an ear, cuddled when i needed a hug and became larger than life in the eyes of a little girl. From six weeks old he would climb onto my bed, bury his head in my hair and knead like I was his mama. He did that until a week ago, and where he used to leave little holes in my head from his claws, he now leaves a huge hole in my heart that I cannot begin to imagine I will ever be able to fill again. A cat that believed he was a person, I don't know if he ever knew, he was so much more, he was everything. There were times in the last 18 years I honestly did not know how I was going to make it through, where he would insert himself in my lap, wrap his arms around my neck and bury his head in my shoulder. So many times I held on for life. I love you Mittens, you helped me go on so many nights, I hope you knew how much you meant.


There are so many wonderful memories I have from this larger than life cat, from his love of human food and his obvious belief that having the highest seniority in the household meant he should have a dedicated spot at the dinner table AND a full plate of food. The memory of his paw slipping up from Meghan’s lap to scoop vittles from her plate as efficiently as possible. From his conviction that he ruled the roost to the reality that some days he truly did, to his moments of vulnerability where he would climb into my hair and knead, he was engrained in the very fabric of my life. My heart feels broken and I have a hard time coming to terms with the cold fact that never again will he be able to hold those broken pieces together with his love.

I love you Mittens, I cannot imagine a life without you, my tears fall where you should be and this ache in my chest is unbearable. I know that it will get less painful with time and for that I am thankful. Mittens, if you’re out there in kitty heaven somewhere I hope you know the imprint you left on not only me but this whole family. Goodbye my friend, thank you for getting me through the last eighteen years knowing unconditionally I was loved. I hope you know so were you.

They just may come true

Whispered wishes upon a star
Wonders where the hell you are
Remembers all those wished so far

Where all my wishes turned to dreams
Where puppets sing with saturnine screams
Psychedelic players and artificial themes

Damn these wishes that returned to me
Taunting the outcomes that all can see
Have me wishing they’d just leave me be

Sunday morning fun

It’s Sunday, the day of rest, so why the heck am I awake before 9am? Damn toddlers and their incessant need to get the most out of a day. Besides the fact that his diaper was exploding, he was raring to go. I’m not so chipper. In fact I would be perfectly happy to blissfully sleep for another three or four hour stretch. I suppose it would make a difference if my bedtime was eight pm. When I was little my parents were lucky if I slept past six in the morning, so perhaps this is what the fates call “payback”.


Although I truly believe someone was looking down on me with sympathy when I had Finnegan. When I found out I was pregnant with another boy, I have to admit I was a little nervous about it. Don’t get me wrong, Logan, my almost eight year old son, is one of the lights of my life. He is also very high maintenance. While Meghan, my twelve year old sulks in silence (mostly) Logan wears all of his emotions and thoughts on his sleeve. You KNOW how Logan is feeling all of the time, in Stereo. Where Meghan has always been pretty easy to take care of, doing a lot of things herself, Logan wants me to help him, with EVERYTHING. It’s great to be needed, really, but there can be a limit to this!

When Logan was little (not that Logan was ever really little, since he’s always been about two sizes bigger than the rest of his age group!) he would get up, oh around six am (damn karma and that whole payback thing) come into my room and stand beside my bed with his head right up to mine. He’d just stand there and stare. Have you ever had someone stare at you in close proximity? It’s kind of a creepy feeling. Not quite as much though as opening your eyes to find yourself staring into the giant brown eyes of a toddler. If that tactic didn’t work for Logan, he would peel open my eyelids and say in a big stage whisper “MAMA, ARE YOU AWAKE?”

So when Finnegan came along, I had some serious reservations. He turned out to take after his daddy more than me, THANK GOD. He’s really easy going, a smiley boy that isn’t high maintenance. Which is good, Logan and I are enough high maintenance for one family!

Although Meghan has reached full puberty and is showing increasing signs of unreasonableness. She goes from perfectly normal, sweet, thoughtful Meghan to a hormonal she-monster within mere seconds. She doesn’t quite comprehend yet though that mommy has had years of practice with hormonal rampages so she can’t possibly master mine.

Last week before she went to camp we were all cleaning up the house when she came stomping up the stairs to bring me something. I asked her what the problem was

In her snottiest voice possible she said “ I WAS trying to play with my friend but instead I’M RUNNING around the house DOING THINGS”.

To that I replied “REALLY? Well you do not have to have a friend stay over again and I certainly don’t have to spend hundreds of dollars to send you to camp, if you are not willing to be a member of this household and pull your weight”. I was a little pissy about it, I ‘ll admit, but it got my point across nicely, and for the rest of the morning she was uber helpful and thoughtful.

“Mommy, is there anything else I can do for you?” That was much better. It’s helpful for your children to be a little afraid of you. Trust me.

So back to Logan, my drama queen, I think I’ve mentioned previously that it’s a good thing the kid has charm and cuteness. The other night I was tired and cranky (a state I seem to be in a lot lately) and was upstairs in my room changing for bed. Logan came racing into my room in an obvious panic. Standing just inside my door in his jammies (ok, I’m not sure if tighty whities can be considered jammies, but we’ll just go with that). He’d been in bed for a while so I was about to give him crap for being up when he opened his mouth to speak, looking at me with his humongous brown eyes, all serious and welling with tears.

He said “Mama, I NEED to ask you something”

So instead of telling him to go to bed, I said “Ok buddy, what is it?”

He took a deep breath, paused and then blurted in a quick rush “If I got turned into a frog will you still love me?” After which his giant eyes stared me down, waiting for the answer

With a perfectly straight face and even tone of voice (I was so proud of myself!) I replied “Yes buddy, if you got turned into a frog I’d still love you”

The instant relief on his face was almost comic as he plopped down on my bed and replied "Oh thank goodness!"

Ok first of all "thank goodness”? What is he an eighty year old woman?

Second, WTF? Where does this boy get these things? I swear this kid makes my brain hurt.

So being mature and responsible I tucked him back into bed, kissed him good night, reassured him I love him and managed to get out of his room before I burst into a lovely fit of the giggles. Then I told everyone I could think of and now am writing it here in my blog. He really made my night.

Oh well, I figure, my kids will need therapy eventually (everyone does), I may as well make it easier for them to blame me!

Work is still dominating my life but I have to say I am enjoying learning the ins and outs of management. I did warn my boss that I require much development, and am sometimes slow to learn. Hopefully she remembers that as I transition to the dark side! Just when I think I’m getting a handle on things, another wrench gets thrown into the cog. Damn wrenches.

I signed up for my next course in Insurance, which begins in November and is a fast track. Because you know I don’t have enough demands on my time, I needed another challenge. Or perhaps I need to up my dose of crazy pills.

In diet news I’ve lost 17 pounds since the beginning of this blog. Yes ladies and gentlemen, 17 pounds!!! I know it keeps looking for me like a lost child in the grocery store calling me back. I’m resisting, but some days that evil chocolate or deep fried goodness catches my attention. I try to convince myself that vegetables are the best tasting things in the world, but as I’m farting my way down the hall it’s hard to keep up that image. Chocolate never gave me gas. My exercise program is sporadic, some weeks I do it and some weeks I think of every excuse not to. Things like having a migraine (which was SUPER fun by the way), having killer cramps, being tired, and work all worked out to be convenient excuses, except the fact that my ass is not shrinking on these weeks either.

In other news, my sister found a place and is very excited to be moving next week. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to the house being a little less full than it currently is. Now if I could only convince her to take some of MY children with her...

Okay gotta go, my toddler is singing at the top of his lungs as he pours water onto his peanut butter toast. Good times.

Jeff is my favourite, I have this hanging up in my office and Jeff never fails to make me smile.  He reminds me so much of myself.

Oatmeal goodness and lazy fairies.

The good news, I’m not dead. The bad news, I am so tired I kind of feel zombieish. I haven’t written in my blog in forever. The real world has come crashing in to interfere with all of the things I like to do, like write and sleep. Writing and sleeping are two of my favourite hobbies but I haven’t had much chance to do either. That evil thing called work has intruded my pleasure. It has evaded every nook and cranny of my life these days. That just goes to show that you should always watch what you wish for, it just may come true. Boy was I a sucker.

So as you may have read previously, I’ve been trying to diet and exercise, which is super fun. That is the other thing that is taking up my time. The other night when I was at the gym I went through the torture chamber they call “circuit training” the lady in front of me who would follow the traffic lights (green means move your ass and red means catch your breath and then get your fat ass to the next machine of torture). Except she would climb onto the machine, sit there, talk on her cell phone, maybe do one repetition. Considering she was skinny it was apparently working for her. Didn’t work so well for me.

Have you ever noticed that the machines on a circuit training loop kind of look like a line up of torture machines? There is one there that looks like some odd birthing chair where you push out impossibly wide with your thighs to work those muscles. Then there is the crunch machine, which basically folds you in half to work your abs. After three kids I can’t even find my abs, I’m not even sure they still exist.

The diet thing has been sketchy too. I’m following this one that has recipes you can make meals from. I made this lovely concoction that had 2 ounces of tuna, plain yogurt and twelve, yes count them twelve, tablespoons of dry oatmeal. Mother of god it was like eating paste that has been drying out because someone left the lid off. It was awesome. Really. Next time any of you stop by I can make you some. Guaranteed you’ll lose weight... from starvation.

My household still has nine members, and let me tell you 1650 square feet doesn’t go that far with that many people in the house. I thought dinner time was chaotic before well now it’s like a gong show and circus combined, at feeding time. Let’s just say the lions and monkeys are hungry.

On Saturday I was wishing for the cleaning fairies to come to my house. So about those fairies. They came, but then formed a Union. They called it Fairies United Carefree Union. It makes for a great acronym. But they didn't clean my house. Wasn't in their collective agreement. Damn fairies.

Anyway, I’m so tired I can’t even be funnier, how sad is that. I should seek therapy, but then I’d need to work even more to pay for it.

stupid people and their entertainment value

The giggling has finally stopped. The sweet sound of nothing hits my haggard ears as I wander through the house at 2:52 am. Meghan has her 12th birthday party today and for the duration of the afternoon and evening the sound of 12 to 14 year old incessant giggling has been ringing in my ears. Oh sweet silence. Now if I could only have sweet, dreamless sleep that would be GREAT!

There are two things preventing me from sleeping right now. The first is the inevitable nightmares about really bad essays and interviews (I’m currently hiring – don’t ask!) The second may have something to do with the fact that I feel like I have a bobble head that weighs about ten times what it should. It kind of feels like I have a hundred pounds of snot jam packed into my sinuses having an all night giggle fest. Fun times.

So I’ve signed up for my second course to get the designation I need to get for my profession. The second out of ten fun and exciting University style courses on Insurance. If you think I’m paranoid now wait until I know even MORE about all of the risks out there. The first course I did was action packed full of incredibly fun Insurance lingo, history and principles. My next one is on Automobile Insurance. My brain hurts just thinking about the fun memorizing ahead of me. I should have told my oldest child that mediocre is the new thing instead of always pushing them to do their best. This whole leading by example thing is highly overrated.

Speaking of being smart I saw one such individual on my way to work the other morning. It was an unsuspecting Friday morning as I dragged my tired ass into my van and headed into rush hour traffic. I had just started going over the Pattulo Bridge and was thinking the constant bump, bump, bump as I drove over it was making me have to pee, I happened to glance over to my right. I almost drove into the curb as my mouth fell open. The guy driving beside me in a beat up little car was in the midst of shaving his bald head with what looked like a cheap disposable razor and no shaving cream.

Now I’ve shaved my legs once without shaving cream or water and let me tell you, My legs ended up looking like a Band-Aid convention. After shaking my head and mumbling something along the lines of “idiot” under my breath I happily day dreamed all the way to work. In my head was a fun scenario that I will share with you now.

Characters in this scenario:

• Ms. Sally Supervisor

• Mr. Iam A. Moron

The scenario that ran through my head:

Sally Supervisor is sitting at her desk with her giant mug of coffee and to do list when her telephone rings. Cheerfully she answers “Hello, Sally speaking”


On the other end of the line she hears “Hey Sally, I’m just callin’ to let you know I won’t be at work today”


Sally, confused blurts “Ok, how come Iam?”


Mr. Moron says sheepishly “Well uh...”


Sally concerned jumps in “Are you sick Iam? You don’t sound so good”


Iam replies “Well...not exactly”


Even more confused Sally asks “Ok, then what’s up?”


To which Iam replies “Well, I was driving in to work, going over the bridge...I didn’t realize it was so bumpy”


Sally interjects “Oh no Iam, were you in an accident, are you ok?”


“No, no accident....I kind of cut myself shaving...my head...while driving, I’m at emergency now getting stitched up”


Sally, with a scrunched up look on her face asks “You were what?”


“Sorry, Sally, I gotta go, the Doctor wants to check out my head to see if any brain matter leaked out. Don’t worry; he seemed pretty positive none would”

Well kids that’s the scenario that ran through my head all the way to work that day. It had small variations in name and words but this is pretty much it. I suppose it was a good thing I was wearing my Bluetooth, that way it looked like I was talking to someone and laughing at their jokes rather than my own warped sense of humour. The commute that day wasn’t half bad.

Although the more I see people doing things like that the more I agree with Jeff Foxworthy that stupid people should have to wear a sign. I wonder what mine would look like.

I’m hoping on Monday that guy is doing something equally as imaginatively stimulating for me. Not much is fun and exciting in my life these days, I’m working a lot of hours.  It is summer time and my children are already “bored”. Don’t worry I remedied that situation, the list of “fun” things to do was pretty extensive. Just because they don’t think vacuuming falls in the fun category doesn’t mean it’s not.

Okay, it’s now almost three thirty in the morning and the toddler gets up incredibly early. Scott is working graveyards so he whines if I make him stay up to watch the kid. Something about just having worked twelve hours. Pfft. Twelve hours is nothin’

I’m hoping he tells me he’s bored soon, the van could use a good scrubdown.

Sagging and scratching - the joys of womanhood

I’m not going to apologize for not writing lately. Really I’m not. (sorry). I’ve been insanely busy having an allergic reaction to my new medication and scratching various parts of my body at different times of the day, it’s super fun. It’s especially pleasant when I have hives on my inner thighs or beneath my breasts that makes for great scratching.

I did have some fun playing with a site that you can upload your photo and superimprose yourself into different era `yearbook photos`.  As you can see from the picure in this blog I had great fun playing with Scott.  Isn`t he sexy?


So I got a promotion, I am now a manager. That’s all I’m going to say about that. I’d pat myself on the back but I’m too itchy.

Everything else in my life is the same old thing. I did discover something about myself through the process of competing for my promotion though. Patience is just not my strong suit. Scott stop nodding your head, it’s rude to agree with me, unless I want you to of course.

So I’ve lost ten pounds. I’ve been working out on a semi-regular basis and basically eating better. No butter chicken for me but man am I craving it now that I mentioned it. Although I'm still a long way to my ideal body.  I just hope that when I get there my boobs aren't sagging even more than they do now.  After nursing three kids until a year each the perkiness is virtually non existent without a good bra. Don`t believe them when they say breastfeeding doesn`t cause sagging.  If mine sag any more I`ll be able to tuck them into my pants.

Speaking of the little leaches, we had Finnegan’s second birthday party last weekend, and my baby boy is now two. I forgot how much two sucks. The magic age where they discover that they do have a choice in the matter. Although when he refuses to move and I pick him up and carry him to where I want him it kind of defeats the purpose of his defiance. His favourite word is currently “No”. He seems to think it gives him the power. He hasn’t realized yet just how stubborn his mommy is.

The lovely angel of “no-ness” had his immunizations on Thursday and now has a fever and is cranky, which is super fun. I’ve been wearing a toddler all afternoon and even ended up being his nap mat. Inferno boy pressed up against me was a lovely feeling. Kind of like sitting in a sauna fully dressed. Fun times.

Summer has decided to skip the West Coast this year, it’s been gray and yucky almost every day, and I wonder, how can I possibly whine about the heat when there isn’t any? Instead I have to whine about the crappy weather which is so last month. I can’t believe it’s already July, or that Scott and I have been married for almost three years. On one hand it feels like just yesterday that we said our vows and on the other hand it feels like I’ve been with him forever. I’m sure when I’m cranky like I am right now it feels like forever for him too.

He’s okay though, I think I’ll keep him. He cooks. Last night he went out to a movie with a friend and I had to cook for the kids. I made a very nutritious meal of chicken fingers and sidekicks cheddar pasta. My niece commented on my cooking abilities, she apparently inherited the sarcastic streak. Damn kid. (She’s twenty one so I suppose not a kid). Thank goodness for Scott and his love of food. We’d starve otherwise. Although without me nothing else would get done, so I guess it’s a fair trade (just don’t tell Scott that).

I really don’t have much to share today; I’m cranky, restless and itchy. Finnegan has liquid poop so I have made sure Scott changes his diaper when he stinks. Scott is usually distracted enough not to notice until it’s too late. What can I say, I’m evil that way.

This day in the life has been brought to you by anti itch cream, which by the way burns when you accidentally get it into your privates, or your eyes, or the zit that I’ve been picking at all weekend and is not a giant crater on my chin.

On an end note, here is what I'd look like:

I almost peed my pants playing with this website, especially with Scott's mug. He didn't seem to find them as amusing.  Go Figure.

Proudest mama in the whole world

So today as Meghan was getting out of the van she mentions casually that she will be singing a solo of "I Believe" at the Fine arts/Sports award assembly this morning.  Great advance warning kid.  So of course, I wish her luck and head off to work, merrily oblivious until I get a phone call from last year's teacher who asks in a slight panic, "Are you able to come to the assembly this morning?"  I politely let her know that I can't as I'm at work.  She then lets me know that Meghan will be receiving the Fine Arts Award and a trophy with her name on it will be in the cabinet. She also tells me that it is usually awarded to a Grade 7 but this year it was going to Megs, who is in grade 6.  My stomach dropped to my hobbit feet because I missed that opportunity to stand there and clap just loudly enough to embarrass her.

So instead I told anybody who would listen about my baby girl and how great she is.  Until she pisses me off, then she's her father's kid.

Luckily my friend Shannon (no not me!) came to the rescue and just made it to the school in time to video tape Megs getting the award.  Once Shannon figures out how to get it off of her camera I will post.

My middle child, Logan didn't win any awards but he did FINALLY learn to read.  He's making good progress but is not all that pumped about going to summer school to get ready for grade 3. Go Figure.  He did have fun at Beaver camp a couple of weeks ago which was caveman themed and oddly fitting for Logan.

It's a good thing this one is so damn cute.  Or he'd be dead.            

Norah was in her first dance recital this past weekend and Scott went to go see her perform.  He said she was adorable as usual. Four hours of dance recital though.  Fun times.  Norah was in two of the dances.

And finally our baby boy, who turned two today.  I cannot believe it's been two years since I pushed this one out of my body.  Let me tell you labour and delivery seriously bites.  But the kid is worth it.

Hiking - and I survived

So since I've been neglecting my poor blog recently I think I will jam a whole bunch of posts in a short period of time!

I went hiking on Saturday morning, to a beautiful location in North Vancouver, BC called Lynn Valley Canyon.  I picked my friend Carol-Ann up just after seven (man too much more of that and I'm going to turn into a morning person, yuck) and we headed to another piece of paradise.

It was a beautiful sunny day and I had escaped from the husband and children for a couple of hours.  How do I spend my freedom?  Hiking for three hours.  What is wrong with me?

I actually really enjoyed it, just walking, through the peaceful landscape, all worries left at the car and like a sponge I soaked up the rays and the peace and the nature.

I call this picture "You want me to climb what?"

If I keep climbing up stairs like this I should have buns of steel in no time flat.  Again, an old man ran past us as we clomped up the stairs out of breath.  I swear it's the same old guy from the last hiking trail, he's following us just to show me how pathetic I truly am.

Luckily I made it up these stairs and a few more sets just like this one.  They look much prettier than they feel though.  my thighs were burning like the fires of Hades.  My lungs may have collapsed.  When I finally got to the top I convinced myself it felt good. 

I loved this rock.  We were walking along a trail when I looked down and saw this rock and the inspirational saying on it.  I took a picture to prove I was indeed there with that rock.  I'm happy to see I'm not the only person in the world with a decidedly warped sense of humour.  So as you can see, I have proof now.

We walked and walked and walked some more and still we didn't get to all the trails that we could have.  AND we didn't get lost, which is a bonus.    It was nice to be in the great outdoors for a change instead of being chained to a desk or a sink or a toddler.  Smelled much better that the toddler too.

This was me looking up to demonstrate how truly tiny we are compared to the world around us,  it was also a good excuse to stop and catch my breath.

This is "The dragon" which is really only a tree root but I prefer to use my vivid imagination to create a world filled with magic.  Needless to say it was a lovely morning of escapism that I would like to repeat again.  I figure it's either this or vodka

Thrilling days and stinky toddlers

I have been remiss in posting to my blog in the past couple of weeks. I have let my fans down. Sorry about that Scott and Mom (my fans). Anyway, what have you all been up to? I’ve been doing incredibly fun things like working and sleeping and changing poopy diapers. I know we can’t all live my exciting life but don’t all be too jealous, if you stop by I’ll even let you change a diaper. That’s how generous of a person I am.

Not much is new in this neck of the woods, same old day in, day out. I’ve jumped back into the eating clean thing I started in January and had slowly sabotaged with my Chinese food and butter chicken habit. Sadly neither is clean living so I had to choose from having an ass the size of Canada or eat clean. Speaking about my ass, I had the worst view of it ever in Safeway on Friday night. When I was at the cashier I turned around and noticed a mirror hanging, designed to be able to see the bottom of the shopping cart. Well I had no shopping cart but mother of Pete my ass filled the entire circular mirror. Let me tell you, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

So I’ve been eating clean and exercising every day this week. I’ve lost five pounds but I’m a bit nervous it’ll find me, like I’ve left little deep fried bread crumbs for it to follow. Dieting sucks though. I got Megs and her friend Kentucky Fried Chicken today and we were driving back home so they could eat their lunch. The smell was like a torture device for my fat starved body.

I know, I know, I’m hardly malnourished.

So being “back on track” means I have to drag my lazy ass back to the gym, which is fun. I especially love the really skinny girls who come to the gym in their cute little outfits and stand around chatting on their cell phones. I tried that method, didn’t decrease the size of my ass at all. There I was sweating like a middle aged fat man in an undershirt, shorts, black socks and sandels and not looking sexy at all. The skinny girls were probably talking to their friend on the phone about the fat chick with a red face doing the human wave. Those of you who have as much fat as me will know what the human wave is. For you skinny people, let me explain. It’s when you jump or hop or skip and all of your body fat rolls up and down like the wave. It’s not a sight you ever want to see when you look in the mirror, unless it’s the guy behind you. I did the Thursday after work torture routine, also known as low impact aerobics.

I’m getting much better, I only stepped on two peoples feet and managed a slight resemblance of the moves at least a quarter of the time. Let’s just say when it comes to all of these complex aerobic dance moves I dance to a different beat. Or a different song all together. I also did circuit training two nights and hiked for three hours on Saturday morning. I was proud of myself but my god am I exhausted. They say exercise is supposed to GIVE you energy but I must be doing something wrong because I feel like I haven’t slept in days.

So in a completely unrelated but just as crazy news my sister and three of her kids are moving in with me for the summer. So instead of four kids there will be seven. My house obviously wasn’t chaotic enough; I needed to add more adventure. I better stock up on duct tape. Logan is excited though, his boy cousin is coming to stay with us. Instead of always getting into trouble by himself now he’ll company.

Have I ever mentioned how gross toddlers are? I went to go help my sister get boxes late this afternoon, I was gone for maybe twenty minutes and when I returned I opened the front door and almost passed out from the stench. Grinning like a Cheshire cat Finnegan came around the corner and put his cute little arms up for me to pick him up. The instant I picked him up liquid poop soaked into my tee shirt. He had poop actually running down his legs. Now before children I would have been retching for sure. Either your sense of smell is dulled with the birth of children or you simply resign yourself to the fact of poop and its many fun appearances. Into the bathtub the kid went and into the laundry hamper went the tee shirt and clothing of the toddler. I was seriously temped to throw them away they stunk that badly.

Megs was supposed to be watching her brother but conveniently didn’t realize her brother had pooped. Considering the house reeked like an overflowing outhouse on a hot summer day I really doubt her claim, but I’ve learned from experience not to argue with a woman/child and her hormones. It’s to the death and my armour is dirty.

Speaking of children, happy daddy’s day to all of you dad’s out there, especially to my honey, Scott. He’s a great dad, he really understands them on their level, teaches them great morals, life lessons and responsibility, oh, and how to kick butt on World of Warcraft. Oh well, nobody’s perfect, but I’ll keep him anyway. Who else will deal with poopy toddlers and still make my toes curl? For father’s day I tried to convince him I was gifting him with the opportunity to spend quality time with his children. Then I went and had a nap. I know, what can I say, I’m so thoughtful.

The “quality time” however wreaked havoc on my clean house, which I paid for this afternoon as I cleaned up and sighed. If only he could clean. THEN he’d be perfect. I’m trying to convince him that I find him cleaning a total turn on. It’s a work in progress, I don’t think he’s buying it. 

So like I said, my life hasn’t been very exciting of late, hardly worth blogging about but I did anyway, what better way to torture your friends and family but with mundane. And poop.

P.S. I posted a picture of Scott in his Beaver Scout leader uniform, I've tried to convince him he looks sexy in this too.  The laughter didn't help my case.

The morning in paradise

I had a great weekend, it started off in a little corner of heaven called Deep Cove.  I went hiking with a friend of mine, Carol-Ann.  I could describe it for you but I thought I'd give you a little picturesque tour of my morning!

Now I didn't take any photos of the beginning of the trail which was very steep and had me huffing and puffing within seconds.  It was really rather pathetic and even more so when an old man ran past us as if I was standing still!

This was the first picture I took, it was just so beautiful I had to capture it.

Anyway, as we went along our way I was awed by the incredible beauty of our surroundings, it was amazing.  even at 7:30 in the morning on a Saturday.  When I first committed to get up and into North Vancouver by 7am my inner voice was shouting "ARE YOU NUTS?!?!?"

As I walked on I felt the stress and the worries slowly drift away on that creek and in the air and in my heart.  for a moment I was completely at peace.

A poem for the moment:

The stream lightly moves

Wet moss covered rocks frolic

Nourishing my heart

 
 
 
So Carol-Ann and I walked up, and up and up until we stood on a giant rock and looked over deep cove.  I have to say looking over that mist shrouded morning made me feel alive and somehow a part of it all.  It was amazing.
 
 

 

 

I was wet from the misty rain and my legs were killing me from the killer climb but when I stood on this rock and overlooked the cove it was all worth it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is Carol-Ann and I on our way down the trail, do you see the glow on my face?  Yeah, that's called sweat.

After we finished our hike Carol-Ann took me to a lovely place where she and her husband volunteer their time, it is a bird refuge called Maplewood, and it is gorgeous!  We walked through the trails here because the two hours of leg killing hiking wasn't enough for us, we were gluttons for punishment!

This log just struck me for some reason, it was a stump of a tree, which had obviously died but on it was new growth, like the Phoenix, that arose from the ashes.  So as you can see not only was my hike beautiful but it infused my psyche with some much needed optimism and peace.  Life has been so incredibly hectic recently that I have forgotten to stop and look at the beautiful place that surrounds me and just feel.  Feel alive, feel at peace, feel at one with myself.  It felt good.  I need to do this more often and not just for the benefit of my fat ass.

Anyway, the rest of my weekend was lovely too, my mother in law had a brief visit (not long enough though!) so we got to spend time with her, which the kids love, they adore her!  Our friend Tony came over, he and my lovely husband cooked us an awesome steak and lobster dinner!  (Photos to come to prove it) I helped my sister pack (you pack rat you!) and with the help of mucho flax seed and fibre i think I pooped out part of my colon today.  I know, after all of this beauty I had to go and ruin in and mention poop, but come on, it wouldn't be me if I didn't.

For the love of sushi

It always amazes me after a long weekend how the week seems to drag by like it somehow stuck in a time warp and four days stretch into a seemingly endless stream of minutes, hours, days. How can four days feel like forty? It’s Thursday today but feels like it should be Saturday. If it were Saturday I sure as heck would not be awake at this hour!


I’m getting ready for work. I know it’s an exciting chore. Shower, dress, brush hair, brush teeth, put on war paint and fragrance to disguise my truly evil nature. She can’t be bad she smells so good, MWAHAHAHAH.

This week has been relatively uneventful, no flying poop or other such shenanigans. It’s a sad state of affairs when you begin to judge your week by poop incidents. You know you’re a parent when. It’s funny how things change when you become a parent. Take milk for instance. Before kids it was just milk. Now that I have kids there are two kinds of milk, chocolate and white. I love the look on the waitresses face when you ask for white milk. You can tell right away if she has kids or not. If she has kids she nods her head with total understanding. If she doesn’t she looks at you like you’ve grown another head while she stood there. That’s also the case when you ask the waitress to put the kids meal into the freezer for a couple of minutes before brining it out. If she doesn’t have kids she just doesn’t get it. Why would you do that lady? She’ll learn. The first time her kid picks up a piping hot French fry and pops it into their mouth.

So I’ve been pretty good this week, I’ve managed to peel my lazy behind out of bed and go walking every morning (well except this morning). I’ve been watching what I eat (mostly)and exercising, you’re probably thinking I must have lost weight then! Nope. I stepped on the scale yesterday morning. I’ve gained five pounds. Wow this diet and exercise thing is really working for me. Good thing I gave up all food that tastes good, otherwise I would be fat. Oh wait a minute. Sigh. Grunt. Whine.

I’ve been taking a lot of vitamins lately in the same vein as the whole healthy lifestyle thing but I swear it just messes me up more. I’ve been taking iron because I am border line anaemic and after my period I’m down right exhausted. The problem with that is that the industrial size fibre intake and iron intake battle with my colon making my bowel movements kind of bipolar. One minute I feel like I’m trying to poop out a watermelon, the next it’s like I’ve lost control of a pressure washer. It’s a fun guessing game every time I get that little gurgle in my stomach.

On a totally unrelated note, I have a great life, no sarcasm. I was driving to work today and it just kind of hit me in the gut. I have a great husband, great kids, great friends, a good job, a nice home, life is grand. I know I poke fun at a lot of aspects of my life but I do so strictly for my own amusement…and to keep my husband on his toes.

Speaking of Scott, I told him I loved him in the best possible way yesterday, I bought him sushi. Nothing says “I love you” like raw fish, rice and seaweed. I did hint that it was like him getting me flowers. Do you think he got the hint? Yeah, I know, not likely. Maybe I should tell him the pool water is “fine”.

Butter chicken cleanses and submarines

Where did the weekend go, have any of you seen it? One second it was here right in front of me and I blink my eyes for just a second it seems and it’s gone. Sigh. If only I could live in a soap opera, where everyone seems to be independently wealthy and always has great hair.

I did get a lot accomplished this weekend from cleaning out the fridge, which had seriously bad garlic breath, to cleaning out my bedroom closet. I also managed to clean the house, weed the garden, help my sister pack boxes and even went out for dinner. I know, what can I say, I’m amazing.

Speaking of dinner, we went to the All you can Eat Indian buffet not too far from us. It always makes me feel better when I go to an all you can eat with Scott, because he seems to take that as a personal mission, to eat as much as he can possibly stuff in his face. It doesn’t make me feel so bad for not doing that. Although it makes me a bit envious, how he can shovel food in like he’s saving up for hibernation and not gain weight. Me, I look at the food and somehow it’s already relocated to my hips.

I had my favourite, butter chicken, mmm, mmm, mmm good. I still stand by my theory though, that butter chicken works wonders in cleaning out the colon. The morning after eating it my body seems to say “evacuate, evacuate!” I should patent the “butter chicken cleanse”.

I got up at five am this morning to go for a walk. It was a lovely morning, just slightly sprinkling with rain, light, birds singing, cars starting to make their way to work. I must be completely mentally unbalanced. This weekend I decided enough is enough. I was sorting through the giant pile of clothing that doesn’t fit and decided I needed to fit into them again. Cramming my body into them as is doesn’t work, trust me, I tried. Apparently there is no other way besides the whole diet and exercise thing so I guess that is what I’ll do. Again.

Speaking of being active, Finnegan is growing up too fast! He is saying new words every day and some of them I can even understand! He got a new toddler bed this weekend and loves it. By new I mean recycled from my sister, who had it in her garage. It’s in the shape of a VW Bug, with holes in the sides, ends and top. He climbed into bed last night, pulled up his covers and smiled at the daddy as he waved goodbye. He really is the cutest toddler, with his giant eyelashes that Tammy Faye Baker would be envious of.

Toddlers may be adorable but they are still gross. Finnegan was in the bathtub on Sunday morning and decided to take a poop, and not just a little poop but a giant log. One minute the kid is squatting (hey don’t judge me, I thought he was playing!) and the next minute there is a giant submarine floating in the water. Apparently he thought it was gross too so he picked it up before i could stop him and hucked it out of the tub onto the floor. That is when I did what any sane mother would do. I yelled “HONEY!  Come deal with your son!”

We went swimming last night, the outdoor pool in our townhouse complex opened this weekend, and the kids were raring to go. It was pretty nice out so we decided to try it out. I sent Scott and Meghan on a scouting mission to see if the water was okay. They came back to say it was fine so we all made our way over to the pool. I’m not sure what Scott’s definition of “fine” is but the water was colder than hell frozen over. The man is seriously delusional. I jumped in and I swear to god I couldn’t breathe. After swimming laps for a couple of minutes it wasn’t as bone chilling but it was cool. After about twenty minutes Finnegan’s teeth were chattering so loud it sounded like Morse code.

I’m thinking though, that since Scott said it was “Fine” but it wasn’t, maybe he really is beginning to understand the code of woman.

Hazard pay

I’m pooped. No I haven’t had too much fibre (although the way I’ve been crop dusting all day would indicate this), I’m just really tired, like someone took my body for a joy ride and put it away before I noticed. (And no it wasn’t Scott, you perverts.) Although I’m sure Scott wishes he had, sadly he’s working graveyards this week so the only man sleeping next to me is seven and drooling on his dads pillow. He’s super cute especially now that he’s asleep and not moving and talking a mile a minute. Logan got a hair cut the other day and looks presentable again. He has very thick hair and I always know it’s time for a haircut when it starts to look like he’s wearing a hair helmet on his head. He got it cut pretty short and was all happy about the spikey hair; apparently “it looks fancy”. He seems to have an obsession about looking fancy these days although I’m not sure how fancy one can look prancing around in tighty-whitey underpants.

Do you ever notice how quickly kids grow and change? Meghan has suddenly turned from my sweet, sensitive perfect daughter to a raging, argumentative ball of hormones that vaguely resembles her, it’s so fun to talk to her on the phone these days “Hi, yeah, no, bye”, she’s just so expressive. Although she does seem to be communicating with barking seals lately. With her allergies acting up she sounds like a seasoned smoker, it’s a delightful sound, almost as fun for me as somebody chewing with their mouth open. It’s no wonder I’m heavily medicated, between puberty and allergy season one of us may not survive. I should definitely be getting hazard pay.

I cannot believe that my baby boy Finnegan will be two next month, it just doesn’t seem possible. It’s strange, in one way it feels like it’s been forever and in another it feels like I was just pregnant. Maybe it’s because I still look pregnant or that my psyche has fragmented and lost large pieces of time. I’m pretty sure they call that motherhood. Finnegan’s communication skills are improving rapidly, I can now understand about every fourth word that comes out of his mouth which is more than I can say about half the people I know! (It’s a joke, geesh, I didn’t mean YOU, I meant everyone else but you...)

Speaking of communication, at work I am currently preparing for an interview I may or may not be invited to; does that not strike you as completely insane? I’ve created a spreadsheet of possible behavioural interview questions and examples I have for each, now I have to study them. My luck none of the questions asked in the interview will be even remotely similar to those I’ve studied! Anyway, I believe I will be interviewed but where and when are unknown and a bit stressful. Pfft, I laugh in the face of stress (and maybe shed an extra thirty pounds of hair!)

Not that shedding would make much difference to me, I’m like a chia pet on crack; the hair just keeps on growing and growing and growing. Every time I run my hand through my hair my hand comes away with large chunks of hair. For the average person this would be devastating and bald spots would be a definite. For me you can’t even notice, except the giant piles of hair everywhere. In my bathroom I have giant hair bunnies where many small creatures could happily make their home. Finnegan likes to find my hair; the kid has a really gross hair fetish. He takes a long piece of hair and runs it through his mouth like dental floss. That kid has some serious issues. He must get them from Scott.

Speaking of Scott, do any of you ever wonder how man and woman can live together without killing each other? Men are so annoying, they don’t truly appreciate the value of folding laundry, or wiping the counters clean, or making their significant others feel sexy, loved and appreciated. Men think if they take them for a joy ride they’ve done their job! Well boys I hate to tell you but foreplay for the middle aged woman includes housework, spontaneous flowers, discussions and a deep seated appreciation for the absolute rulers of their universe! Don’t get me wrong Scott is a great guy, smart, sensitive, funny, he cooks and is a great dad. Ask him to clean up or plan a romantic evening and I may as well have asked him to fly. I love you honey but seriously I could use some good romancing and some folded laundry!

Sometimes I think maybe my expectations are too high and then I remember, hey wait a minute I can do them why can’t everyone else!

So that’s a day in the life of, I know, boring and a little disturbing but aren’t you glad you have validation that someone is at least as messed up as you?

Messages of love, written in dirt

My life has become a series of spreadsheets and lists. Schedules, budgets, interview question practice, wish lists, goal lists, chore charts and “to do” lists for my “to do” lists. My life has been reduced to what can neatly be placed in columns and cells (Too bad for my hubby I haven’t added an intimacy column).

Do you ever wonder where time goes? Finnegan will be two years old next month and I still look pregnant. Apparently my body isn’t aware of the fast pace of time either. Speaking of Finnegan the boy is a nudist. Logan will be so proud. Last Thursday morning I heard him chattering to himself so I went in to get him out of his crib. When I walked in he was standing there with a grin from ear to ear completely naked. His footy jammies and diaper lay discarded beside him.

I don’t understand where my children get their desire to be naked from, it’s not like I wander around the house in my underwear or anything…oh wait…never mind, next topic.

This morning while helping Logan get his lunch together he asked if he could have one of the chocolate chip cookies we were putting in his lunch. Since he’d had a big bowl of Mini Wheat’s I said he could. He grabbed a cookie, stared at it with adoration and said “Oh, cookie you are a yummy ball of goodness”. He then promptly shoved the whole cookie into his mouth and munched happily. Kids are so weird.

This past Friday I went to a movie with my friend Shannon. We went to see Letters from Juliet, a romantic comedy, which was very good. I haven’t laughed so hard in a very long time. No, the movie wasn’t all that funny, but the lady in the row front of us sure was. She had gone to the bathroom and upon returning sat in the wrong chair (the seat next to hers). As she sat down I heard a loud “crunch” as she sat on her (or someone else’s) bag of popcorn. For some reason this struck me as the funniest thing on the planet, especially when Shannon turned to look at me grinning like a maniac.

I had just started to calm down ten minutes later when the lady casually got up and slid into the correct seat, sans popcorn bag. That got me going again and it was another ten minutes before I could breathe without bursting into totally inappropriate laughter. I suppose you had to be there to see the humour in it but let me tell you I STILL laugh when I think about it.

Speaking of romantic comedies, it’s amazing how your thoughts change as a relationship progresses from the blush of first love into the comfortableness of marriage, kids, life. I was driving behind a truck the other day on the way home from work that had “I love Daniel” written in the dirt. I though “aw how sweet” before immediately thinking about what I would have written if it were Scott’s car. It would say something romantic like “Wash your damn car Scott”.

But I’d say it with love.

Mother's day and voluntary torture.

My body hurts. When I say this I don’t mean in a good “I’m alive” kind of way. I mean it in the most negative of ways, with a lot of whining and groaning attached. I walked in the Vancouver Sun run this past Sunday, a total of 10k in 1 hour and 50 minutes. It was a beautiful sunny, Mother’s day morning and the walk itself turned out pleasantly. In fact after I finished I smugly thought “I should do this more often”. I’m an idiot.

Three days later and I can sort of move my legs without complaining. (I complain anyway because I can). I made the mistake of going bike riding the next evening with my Girl Guide unit. Now my legs AND my ass hurt. It’s rather symbolic that I chose to torture myself on Mother’s day. It was kind of like labour and delivery in retrospect. You start out going “Hey, this isn’t so bad” to “WHAT WAS I THINKING; I DON”T WANNA DO THIS ANYMORE!” then afterwards you walk around like you crapped a baby out of your vagina for a week. Happy mother’s day to me.

Well I did it. I set a goal and accomplished it. Apparently training before hand would have prevented the whole pain issue, personally I kind of think it may have prolonged it.

When I was busy whining about it yesterday one of the ladies that work in the department next door commented that it was a good thing. I looked at her like she was insane. She completely ignored my stink eye as she then inserted common sense and logic into the conversation. She raised her perfect eyebrow and stated “We only have one body, we don’t get another one, so it’s best we take care of it” and went on to give some more sage advice before sauntering off, her perfect figure figuratively flipping me the bird.

All it made me think about was I wished I could get an upgrade. Sigh, ow!

My children and husband cleaned the house on Friday for me (sort of) for Mother’s day and were so proud of themselves you would have thought they’d cured disease. I wonder what would happen if I did that every time I cleaned the house. It was nice though and I really did bite my tongue and didn’t mention the little piles of stuff in corners, on counters, etc. That alone should have made me the best mother ever.

Meghan and I put in our garden this weekend, another layer to my body torture. The garden looks great (for now) but who knew bending was so hard when you’re fat. I ended up sitting in the middle of the garden and weeding around me. Not a pretty sight, but effective.

Muliebrity (The sense of being a woman) - Dictionary.com word of the day

Boobs – check
Although a little lower

Vagina – check
Although a little wider

Sense of humour – check
Although a little more peculiar

Children – check
Although a little messier

Muliebrity – intact

Has Anyone seen my lollypop?

Okay I am back on track! After not just falling off the clean eating wagon but also falling into a deep fryer of greasy fast food goodness I have decided to behave once again. I’ve had so much water in the past two days I could fill a water cooler. I feel kind of LIKE a water cooler, sloshing when I move suddenly. I also tried these “internal cleanse” herbal pills, which by the way is just secret code for holy crap I just shit a Buick and six of its closest relatives.
Sadly Scott’s weight loss method of taking a dump isn’t working so well for me but it could be because my bladder is so over enlarged and set to burst at any moment. I haven’t had a diet coke in two days, man it’s hard when all around you people are drinking it. Tea is just as satisfying; really it is (okay maybe if I was an old English lady it would be). I really need to try to be successful at this though, it`s really depressing to walk by a mirror and think `Who`s that fat chick? OMG that overinflated Shannon doll is me!!!

I’ve also started taking my iron pills again, which I’m hoping will give me more much needed energy. Although the bottle should warn you “CAUTION MAY CAUSE REALLY BLACK POOP” so you don’t madly go over your diet from the past twenty four hours wondering when you last ate tar.

I’m in the midst of a three day leadership course right now, which is very interesting indeed. We did a survey before the course started and from that we received a profile that detailed our individual management styles. I know this will come to a shock to all of you who know me but apparently I’m action oriented, fast paced and results focused. Apparently they haven’t been reading my blog. My profile was actually pretty accurate but it’s funny how people at my table learned this about me and all got this pained look on their faces like “Okay now she kinda scares me” . I suppose it’s a good thing none of them have read my blog either!

I attended Megs choir “Spring Sing” last night where three elementary schools and the high school choirs got together to put on a concert. My baby girl sang a solo and let me tell you she was amazing, I was so proud of her. I suppose coming from her mother it isn’t really an accurate indicator of talent though considering I was probably just as proud the first time she pooped on the potty and that honestly doesn’t take much talent at all, although it apparently takes talent to not pee on the seat in a public bathroom. Every time I go to the bathroom in a public stall I swear there is pee on the seat and this is in the ladies! How is that possible? When I go I sit my fat ass on the toilet and pee into the giant hole in the middle.

There has been the odd time however where I thought someone has peed on the seat until I wipe the liquid up, mumble and complain to myself, go potty, flush the toilet and have to jump back not to get my pants wet. Some of those public toilets have quite the flush; it’s like a mini tidal wave in the bowl. I especially love the automatic flushers that flush mid flow and splash up onto your ass like you’re sitting on a bidet. That used to freak the crap out of Meghan when she was little and not much scared that kid. I think she was afraid she’d go down with the water.

How is it that my mind flow always ends up in the toilet? Man, I need to get out more! Anyway, back on topic, Megs did a wonderful job and her school choir was amazing! When the next choir got up to sing it wasn’t so amazing, my ears still hurt from the experience.

Not much else is new in my world, Finnegan is still fascinated with his penis, and Logan is too, if I think about it Scott probably is too. Meghan has actual boobs now which are mildly disturbing; she’s in the half a woman still a baby stage that I’ll probably see her in forever.

It’s 11pm and I’m pooped, my brain hurts from all of the edumucating today, so I’m hitting the sack but will be back soon. On a parting note Finnegan got his lollipop stuck to the back of his head the other day which was amusing especially after I removed said lolly from his head and he had a little peacock thing going on at the back of his head. He’s funny that way; he sticks his lollypops in funny places to save them for later, usually on the side of a chair, the wall, a toy. Then when he comes and points to his Halloween candy bin and I tell him not right now he simply goes to his secret stash, pulls one off of wherever and pops it into his mouth. He’s a resourceful kid.