So easily amused...

In the past couple of weeks it is like a switch has been flipped, and our warm days have been replaced by cool wet weather. This is my favourite time of year (minus the rain of course) when the leaves are all changing colour and everything is just so beautiful.

So we have gone from tearing up the living room couch to making a royal mess outside with the freshly raked leaves. Oh the fun these two had!

The SNIP

Last week Ken had an appointment with one of the leading doctors in the area about his happy sack and man tubes (I couldn't come up with a comical name myself, so I stole from this guy). Ken called me when he got to the clinic, and I could hear the fear in his voice. He said there were a number of men with ashen faces and walking as not to disturb their newly tender, non-sperm containing jewels. Ken was just having a consultation, but for a brief moment he thought that perhaps that was going to be the first day of the rest of his "I'm shooting blanks" life.

I for one, have zero sympathy. The procedure that this particular doctor uses involves no needles and no scalpels and NO STITCHES. It takes only eight minutes. He gets drugs to numb the area before the procedure and copious drugs afterwards to deal with the "pain". Yes I am being mean. This is coming from somone who had hours upon hours of labour with both pregnancies, NO DRUGS to "numb the area" before the birth (even though I begged with child number two), and a few pills afterwards to deal with the PAIN.

Hospitals in our area used to supply all kinds of things for mothers and babies after a birth. Now, they supply very little. I believe my "aftercare" package came with two industrial sized pads, some flimsy mesh paper underwear, and TWO pain pills. Here is a detailed list of the "Vasectomy Supply Kit" that Ken will get after the snip:

- Antibacterial clenser to wash the scrotum nightly for three nights before the snip.
- A man thong to wear for a week after "surgery"
- Gauze
- Anibiotic ointment
- 16 tablets of extra strength tylenol
- 24 tablets of anti-inflammatories
- Gel packs for icing the scrotum.

I must admit though, Ken is being a trooper about the whole thing. In his words he is "taking one for the team". Not like I gave him a choice in the matter.

The not so Amazing Race

Is anyone else ready to give up on this show yet? I have been loving the AR since it began, but come on, if this is just a trek across the US, then I am turning the tube off.

Sigh. It sucks not having cable. Choices are pretty limited!

My kid makes more than me.

Today Nicholas was at a photoshoot for a company that makes kids shoes. Ken has a friend who works for this company (which I can't name right now, but will once the pics come out) and they were looking for kids, and having children that are "ethnically diverse" was a big bonus. I tell ya, my kiddo will have famous legs one day - I don't think they took more than a handful of shots of his whole body - but must have taken a hundred or so of his feet. Can one tell if a child is ethnically diverse by his legs?

He made a bit of coin (more than I make in an hour for about 10 minutes of work) and got a couple of pairs of shoes out of the deal. Not too shabby. All he had to do was play in a bunch of sand and keep his legs still. He thought he was in heaven. Oh yeah, they fed him too. The sand was delicious.

Ethan is up on Wednesday. He has pretty cute legs too.

Why bother?

I have known for a very long time that my kids are great at keeping themselves entertained, and hell, it isn't like they don't have enough toys to keep them busy.



So why am I so surprised to find this?

Elephant poo and an escape at the zoo.

Yes, I am really going to post the elephant poo picture that I took at the zoo last week. But first, here is the escape at the zoo....



And the look on his face realizing it was all hanging out...






















And now for the elephant...


Ready, Aim....



FIRE!

All that goes in....must come out.

On our recent trip to Seattle, Ethan had a first. It was a first that I had NOTHING to do with - I figured that I would let Ken bask in the wonder and excitement of a "first" all on his own.

We were eating at a buffet when Ethan announced, quite loudly, that he had to poo. Both Ken and I looked at each other, and I told him that this was all his as he is an expert (compared to me anyways) in the poo department. Ken got this look of "how the hell am I going to do this", and I told him that at least our son picked a great time to do the public dump, as we both were here and he didn't have to drag in Nicholas with us and contend with his facination of the toilet and throwing all things into the big white abyss.

Ethan has a ritual when he takes a shit. He has to be completely naked (including socks, shoes and shirt) and he has to be left totally alone. So Ken gets him into the toilet stall, puts down a sheet of that wonderous toilet seat tissue paper (which Ethan had never seen before and was just fascinated with it) and proceeds to strip Ethan down until he is completely nude. Ethan then hops up on the seat and tells his daddy to kindly "go away". Ken steps outside the stall and the grunting and groaning begins. Ethan then discovers the cracks in the stall door, and decides to play (very loudly) "peek-a-boo" with his dad. By this point, Ken is trying to entertain our son, hold the stall door closed, and make sure that none of the clothes that he had bunched up under his arm fell onto the floor. No wonder he looked exhaused when he came back to the table. Ethan - well he was triumphant. As he told the waiter "I do a big poo in your toilet - but not as big as the elephant".

Elephant poo photos to follow tomorrow.

The good 'ol U.S of A

We decided last week to take a holiday. I guess it wasn't so much a holiday as it was "a trip with two small kids who do not operate well out of their element" three day treck to Seattle. It was a good trip, but I came back more sleep deprived than I have been in a long time. Going to work this morning was a bit of a break, especially since both boys are quite croupy and miserable (sorry mom!).

We spent a couple of nights in a pretty nice hotel (pretty nice meaning they have cable and a fully cooked breakfast is included in the price). Poor Ethan just doesn't understand that when you turn on the tv at 3:22 pm and Dora is almost over that you just can't start it at the beginning again like you would a DVD. Oh the meltdowns. Nicholas as per usual didn't sleep well, but this time he woke up all our neighbours in addition to Ken and I. Yes, the hotel will be welcoming this crew back with open arms. NOT.

I enjoy going to the US, and every time, there are things that stick out that are different than up here. One that sticks out in my mind is [aper toilet seat covers. They are EVERYWHERE. I love it. It is amazing to me that we just don't have them up here. I guess that is why I don't crap outside my home.

The rest areas on the I-5 are awesome. Fully functional, clean toilets and free coffee. What more can a girl ask for? Up here we are lucky if you get an outhouse that gets serviced maybe once a week. Toilet paper? Yeah right.

One big hassle is that you can't buy banana bread at Starbucks. This is a big thing in this house. Mamma needs her coffee fix, so the boys always get a fresh slice of banana bread at Starbucks. I just about had to peel Nicholas off the young barista's face when she said they don't have banana bread. I thought the world was going to spin out of control. NOT FUN. I am sure that my boys were a great form of birth control for the young happy couples sharing their low fat, decaf, extra whip mochas that day.

I find that the people in the US are very friendly. We had all kinds of people go out of their way to talk to us or give us directions to where we needed to go. Everyone says "uh huh" when you say "thank you". I don't know if this is only on the west coast of the US, but "your welcome" is almost never said. It is kinda cute.

The Chinese in me.

Stuff I learned being married to an Asian guy...

1. Chinese food eaten at the "Kung Fu Buffet" is not real Chinese food. I had no idea what the real deal was until I had some of my mother-in-law's cooking. I have become such a Chinese food snob it is unreal. If a Chinese restaruant is full of white people, I steer clear. In fact, there have been many a time I have eaten out where I was the only Caucasian in the whole place. And, according to my mother-in-law, I use chopsticks better than most Chinese.

2. There are Chinese telemarketers too, and they are just as annoying as all the other telemarkers out there. Nice thing is that I don't feel the least bit rude when I hang up on them after I tell them I don't speak a word of Chinese.

3. Asian babies are born with blue asses. I kid you not. I had no idea. Both my boys have a faint blue marking on their butts that apparently fades with time (Ken's ass is not blue at all - but it sure is cute :)). After Ethan was born that is one of the first things I looked at - his cute blue ass.

4. Chinese bakeries are amazing. The pasteries are fantastic, the cakes even better.

5. Two words. RED ENVELOPE. That is what you get on special occasions and many other times throughout the year. Inside - MONEY. Gotta love it.

Preschool

Last Tuesday was Ethan's first day of preschool. He is in a parent participation preschool, so that means that while he is busy "learning through play", I am busy attending meetings, doing assigned jobs and fundraising my ass off. Who knew that preschool was so demanding?

One of our parent meetings we had last week had a guest speaker. She talked to us old folks about sex and what we should be teaching our sweet innocent three year olds. Actually, she was fantastic and laid everything out in an "age appropriate" manner. She outlined what kids should know at what ages, and I judging by that, I barely pass the five to six year old category. Who know that talking to your kid about his penis and testicles and other associated parts in a matter of fact way could be such a cheap form of entertainment? The way she did the talk was quite clever - she did it in such a way as to not make us look like complete dumbasses when it comes to sex and all things related, and yet remind us of all the stuff we should already know and pehaps don't.

I can't belive that my son is old enough to be asking about sex stuff (and he does) and I am the one that is having to come up with the answers while not laughing my ass off. Just the thought of my mother talking to me about all things sex makes me want to curl up in a corner and cover my eyes and ears (and I am sure my brothers feel the same way!). Besides, how much could she really know when she has only done it three times?

Wanna buy a house?

Friends of ours just bought a house. The kind of house that makes the little green monster in me come out. Poor Ken. Every time I hear of another house purchase by someone that isn't us I don't shut up for days. I go all mental on the real estate listings in our area hoping to find the perfect house at the perfect price (CHEAP).

Since it was our anniversary last week, my mom kindly offered to watch the little angels (yes they are total sweet adroable sprogs when I am trying to pawn them off on someone else) so we could go out and dress up in big people clothes and not worry about flying food with a shitty trajectory thrown from grubby little hands. After our nice dinner out, we had some time to kill before the movie, so Ken indulged me and we went for a drive to an area not too far from us where there are lots of new, lovely big homes built with young families in mind. Young RICH families because I know of NO young families that can afford a house that is almost $700,000. Most of these new homes were built so close together that you could read your neighbours paper in the morning over their shoulder from your kitchen while they were taking a shit next door. The only bonus of these grossly overpriced but oh-so-nice big homes was that you could mow the lawn with a pair of scissors.

blue chickens and other assorted wildlife.

We don't live too far from the big city, and yet we are surrounded by wildlife. The park near us is currently home to four bears (I haven't seen them), cyotes, racoons and more.

So this is what appeared in our backyard today when we threw some peanuts out for the local critters. Free entertainment as far as I was concerned.



Here are what Ethan calls "blue chickens". I have no idea why. I took a birdwatching course in university (nerd nerd nerd), so he sure as hell didn't get it from me. Maybe is business minded father....







Here is a squirrel...the boys love these critters.





Check out the talons on this fella....














And finally, this guy was content to watch from the sidelines.

Say Cheese!

A few days ago I had to do something I have been dreading for ages. I have to get my passport updated, and I figured while I was at it I would update Ethan's too and get one for Nicholas. Getting my passport photo done is kinda like buying a bathing suit - something I have to do, and no matter how hard I try or how long it takes, I still look like a sack of shit when it is all said and done. I knew full well what I was getting into, but what a pain in the ass. I looked like a big beefy linebacker with a really bad lid in my photo, but that was nothing compared to the ordeal we had taking the boys pictures.

The boys have to get two passports - one for Canada and one for New Zealand. As luck would have it, the rules are different for both countries, from picture sizes to who can sign off saying they know I am not a whack job and that I am in fact the mother of these two angels. The paperwork I can handle. Hell I work for the government - unfortunately that does not get me any extra favours and I still have to jump through every damned hoop they put out there for the regular folk.

The thing that gets me is all the requirements for passport photos. Many places won't do picutres of kids under three because it is such a hassle (so those places that will take the picutres charge a small fortune for the privlige). The kids can't smile in the pictures (yeah, shove a camera in either of my kids faces and see what happens - an "expressionless look" is NOT what you will get). They also have to keep their mouth closed. I actually had to hold Nicholas' mouth shut and then move my hand as the photo was taken. Of course it didn't help that we were in a photo studio with lots of wires, bright buttons and lights that little hands just couldn't avoid. I sure as hell hope that these pictures don't get rejected. Thank goodness I only have to do this once every five years. If only bathing suit shopping were that infrequent!

Is that IT???

I have said in many previous posts that my second born is a very picky eater. He knows what he likes and he will eat alot of that, but when it comes to trying new things he is absoultely hopeless (unless of course it can be found outside in a dirt pile - stuff like that gets popped into the mouth on a daily basis). I am lucky that he does like most fruits and some vegetables, and doesn't mind multigrain bread (with butter, heaven help you if you put margarine on there!).

This morning I cooked myself some eggs, and I let Nicholas sit on my lap while I was eating. Normally I don't do that, but I was chatting on the phone and I know all hell would have broken loose if I didn't let Nicholas climb up on my lap, and frankly, I didn't want to fight that battle this morning. So I did what all the parenting books tell you NOT to do, and I gave in. No sooner was he on my lap that he grabbed my fork, and before I could grab it back (because I assumed that he was going to show me where my eyes were with the sharp, pointy ends) he expertly picked up some eggs and PUT THEM IN HIS MOUTH. Nicholas hates eggs. Or so I thought. Apparently they have a whole different taste if they come off the end of a fork. So tonight we fed our little "I only eat fruits and veggies and if you put near me I will kill you" child a whole bunch of ham - and holy shit he ate it all. With a fork. NONE of it landing on the floor. Give the kid utensils and a whole new world opens up. Holy crap - I can't belive it was just that easy.

Aftermath

To be honest, I just don't feel much like posting the goings on here when I am so sick inside thinking about our neighbours to the south. I have been a part of some great discussions online and reading the odd blog from people who are close to the goings on (but obviously not in dire enough need for water, food and shelter). If you want to help out in any way, click here.

It's all about the hair baby.

Conversation last night between Ken and Ethan:


"Daddy has no hair"

"Yes Ethan, daddy has no hair"

"Where did it go?"

"It all fell out after I married your mother"

"We go buy some for you!" (Oh if it could only be that easy!)

"Gee Ethan, where can we go buy daddy some hair?"

Ethan, deep in thought.....

"hmmmmm....we go to Costco!!!"

Any on a somewhat related note, Nicky's mullet is gone. Amazing how one snip with the scrapbooking scissors (which I dug out of the depths of my storage for a class tonight) can make my baby look so growed up. Sigh.

Random picture blog

Today was hell at work. I have very few brain cells left, barely enough to form a thought or two. So here are some random shots for your viewing pleasure.


By the time they were done, they were almost naked and the sand in the butt cracks didn't come out for days.



The very first picture I ever took of the boys together. Ethan ignored Nicholas for almost 6 weeks, I beleive I bribed him with a thomas train to get this shot.


Oh yeah baby - I'm the man (in woman's shoes no less!)


THIS is why my son gets forgiven for running me ragged and making me sleep deprived.


Ahhhh....sleep. That is exactly where I am headed too.

How to really tick me off...

Overstay your welcome, force me to MAKE you leave by escorting you to the backyard and throwing you over the fence, only to find you two days later taking up residence in the shower.

Holy crap Fred is back.

How much trouble can one get into in a completely fenced-in backyard?

Oh the adventures in a backyard. My kids just LOVE being outside, which is great. We have a decent sized yard, and the biggest bonus is that it is completely fenced, so my houdini like second born can roam to his heart's content without me worrying about him coming nose to nose with vehicular traffic. One of the most stressful things for me now that I have two kiddos is trying to keep an eye on both of them when we are out at the public park near our home. It wouldn't be so bad if they decided to stay within the confines of a play area, but no, there is much too much exploring to do in the huge adjoining forest and busy bus route. So we have been spending an obscene amount of time within the confines of our backyard. Which is fine by me.

During the summer, when it is warm and we get alot of sun, I like to do my part for the environment by hanging out my laundry (because god only knows that driving my "holy shit it cost me $80 to fill the tank" vehicle sure as hell isn't doing it!). The other day I decided to wash the kids security blankets, and when they discovered them on the line drying out, it was like they hit the jackpot in Vegas. Toys were abandoned and they stood, under their blankets, giving every ounce of love to the wet soggy pieces of material that I have ever seen. Ethan still sucks his fingers, and Nicholas expresses his love by chewing the living shit out of his blanket (and moaning in the process). They stood like this for ages.



So after the boys decided to abandon their blankets, they went in search of mischief. Nicholas is the ringleader in any kind of trouble making, but Ethan is quite happy to follow along. Even though I thought there wasn't too much for them to get into, Nicholas did manage to briefly scare the shit out of Ken and I. We have a shed in the backyard, and recently Ken built a "fence" - actually, it was only two planks wide, but it had to be done to keep Nicholas out of the back of the shed. There was a bit of room at the bottom, not enough (so we thought) for anyone to get under. Well, Nicholas, bound and determined as he is, slid on his belly and pushed himself under the fence. We didn't see him do it, but we did hear Ethan giggling and pointing in the direction of the shed. I am surprised that he didn't try to join Nicholas, but maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see his younger brother get in shit for once. Ken freaked out, I grabbed my camera (yeah, I am a really concerned parent!)



Just as Ken was going to grab something to pull the fence apart, Nicholas decided he had enough and wanted out. You can imagine the dirty mess he was by the time he squeezed his skinny butt outta there.

Fred is on vacation.

So I was talking with my girlfriend the other night and she told me that she thought Fred was one nasty assed spider. She asked me if he was poisionous. My immediate reaction was "We have poisionous spiders in BC?"

I told her I thought it was a great educational opportunity for the kids (except now every time Nicholas sees a spider he calls it Fred - hell, he'll probably fail biology 11 becasue of me). "Besides", M asked me, "what if he bites one of the boys? I am sure that he wouldn't just take a nibble, oh no". According to M, Ethan will only ever be able to count to 19 because, in her eyes, Fred would have dined on his big toe. So after that conversation, I (no, not Ken, and not my burly NZ farming cousin staying with us at the moment) had to tackle Fred. I was the only one brave enough. So I caught him, and walked to the BACK of the yard and hucked him over the fence.

I bet he is back tomorrow. I am a hell of a hostess.

Freaking Gross.

Honestly, I would have rather eaten Fred than drank milk. I fought it, but in the end, it had to be done. Read this to get the background.

So here it is - hasn't been done in 20 years, and likely won't be done again.



Absolutely freaking gross. But Ken is proud of me.

Fear factor - wimp style.

Today, Ken and I went to a wedding of an old friend of mine from school. It was a very casual "outdoor in the backyard affair" with lots of kids (ours not included). We were pretty excited to leave the kids at home in the care of my baby bro, my new sis and a couple of dogs (the boys thought they had died and gone to heaven). Ethan just told me that he had chips for lunch - yup, they had a great time.

So after this wedding, Ken and I decided to take full advantage and go out to eat. To a non-kid friendly place where you can take your time and not have to share any of your meal with anyone. Ken ordered a Thai chicken salad, but I knew as soon as I saw it that he wouldn't finish EVERYTHING on his plate. No, there were some cherry tomatoes on that salad, and as soon as Ken saw those, he pushed them off to the side and dug into the rest. Ken hates cherry tomatoes. He will eat regular tomatoes, roma tomatoes and, when I don't tell him, cherry tomatoes cut up into itty bitty pieces and mixed in with a pasta sauce. It is all in his head - when he was little, he was being looked after by a woman who made him and his sister eat cherry tomatoes. In fact, this woman would not let them leave the table until the the little red balls on the plate were all gone. There were some days that they didn't leave that table for hours. He has been scarred for life.

So I looked at those tomatoes, and I did what any caring, compassionate wife with no kids in tow would do - I dared him to eat them. Ken, not to be outdone, counter dared me with "if I eat these, you have to drink a glass of milk". Now that, I wasn't expecting. I have not had a glass of milk in almost 20 years. I HATE the stuff. Ice cream, bring it on. Cheese - LOVE it. Milk - the thought makes me want to just gag typing about it. So we negotiated back and forth until we came up with a compromise (yes, we have NO life). Ken would eat 4 cherry tomatoes, and I would drink as much milk as was in the glass of water in this picture. AND I got to pick which tomatoes he would eat.









Guess which tomatoes I told him he had to eat....





So like a man he did it - not without the theatrics though.








At the time of typing this, I have yet to drink my milk. I am sure Ken will take a picture to show the internet. And my mom.

The newest member of our family.

Meet Fred. He is the newest edition to our little family. Actually, Ethan has named him "big fat Fred" and he isn't too far off the mark. Check out the hairs coming off his legs.



Let me just say that I hate spiders. They FREAK ME OUT. I have caught Fred and put him outside about 4 times now, and he always finds a way back and has a new web up and running in no time. Ethan really likes him. He says good morning and good night and blows him a kiss before he goes to bed. He is currently living in the top corner of our bathroom, so maybe Ethan hasn't quite clued into how BIG he really is.

On a lighter, and much cooler note, here are a couple of pics of the full moon last night that I took from our backyard. I am sure they would have been better and brighter if I didn't live in the city or have to deal with the neighbour's porch all lit up like Christmas, but all and all, not too bad.

ARGHHH...I take it back!

Did I just say that I wanted another baby? Did I actually PUT IT IN WRITING??? Holy shit I take it back. Why is it when one child decides that he is going to have a bad day, the other figures that what the hell, he'll have a bad day too? I cannot believe that the two screaming monsters who have replaced my sons today have not yet driven me to claw my eyes out with dull rusty nails (which, by the way would be much more pleasant than the crap that I have had to put up with already - and it is only 1:00 pm and Ken won't be home for another 8 hours, 35 minutes and 18 seconds).

I had a yucky morning, both kids woke up really grumpy and early. I had a bit of a reprive when a friend came over with her little one, and he and Ethan played quite well together for a couple of hours - until after lunch and when the meltdowns started to happen. My friend who is pregnant and due in a couple of months just looked in horror at my screaming kids and I just KNEW she was thinking "OH.MY.GOD. What the hell am I getting myself into?". Yes D - in another couple of months, you too can join the club, and it is NOTHING like the doublemint commercials. None of the "double your pleasure, double the fun". OH NO.

Babies, babies everywhere!

I got an e-mail the other day from a co-worker announcing that one of the many pregnant women in my office had her baby. Attached was a photo of her new wee girl. I didn't really expect the reaction I had to the photo. It didn't tug at my heartstrings like most newborn baby pictures. Oh no. It YANKED my heartstrings out and stretched and twisted them in such a way that I wanted another baby RIGHT NOW. How is it possible that the world can be exploding with so much cuteness? I just can't stand it.

My heart and my head are at completely different places when it comes to having another baby. My heart forgets pregnancy, labour pain, sore boobs, sleepless nights and shitty diapers (my second born is kind enough to remind me of the latter on a daily basis). My head tells me that I am getting too old, and my husband reminds me of everything my heart tells me to forget - his favourite is "remember how it felt when the nurse told you that you couldn't have drugs?". Ok, yeah, I do remember that, and man I was pissed!

What's that funny smell?

One thing Ken is really good at is coming up with stuff to do. I suck at it. Yesterday he suggested we go to Golden Ears Park & Alouette Lake. It is quite a drive from here, but doable, especially since Nicholas had a really good morning nap and Ethan has decided to go off of naps altogether thank you very much.

When I was much younger, we lived closer to Golden Ears, and made many a trip up there to frolic in the lake and spend the day hanging out. I am sure my parents would be thrilled to know that my first memory of this place wasn't the family fun, bonding, love and warm & fuzzy stuff. No, I have only one distinct memory of the lake, and it is the the fact that it was the first time I had ever smelled pot. I was about 8 or 9 years old, and I remember asking my dad what the smell was. I don't remember his response, but I am sure it wasn't something along the lines of "oh, they are just smoking some illegal drugs - and probably having a hell of a fun time doing it". I don't remember the next time I smelled pot, or the time after that, or much about the first (and pretty much only) time I tried it myself (mom, cover your eyes). Gee, I hope with that admission I have not turned into a horrible influence for my younger siblings.

Hell, the fact that I have pretty much spent most of my life in Vancouver and have only smoked weed a couple of times is shocking in and of itself - considering one of the more interesting places to visit here (yes, this is in some guidebooks) is The "pot block" of 300-block of West Hastings St in Vancouver - home to the BC Marijuana Party, Pot-TV, and the Museum of Psychoactive Substances.

Well, things sure haven't changed in over 20 years. Yesterday at the lake there were a group of about 10 kids (I'd say they were about 14-16) all smoking weed. Yup, anyone within a 50 foot radius would have been higher than I ever was when I actually tried the stuff many many moons ago. I could see Ethan thinking about what they were doing (he hasn't even seen anyone ever smoking a cigarette) but he didn't ask. I did however, start to wonder if the big blue cloud affected his little brain when he started calling all the inflatable rafts in the lake "speedboats".

money, money, money

I got a call the other day from my university alumni association. They call about twice a year asking for money to support struggling students, and make me feel like a sack-o-crap when I tell them that I am not in a position right now to donate to the cause (perhaps my monthly student loan payment that is more than what most pay monthly when they BUY A CAR has something to do with it!). I have calculated that I won't have paid off my student loan until I am well into my 40's - I cringe to think of what I borrowed and what I will have actually paid back by the time it is all said and done.

Besides, I have much more important things to spend my (sorry honey "our") hard earned cash on. Who needs univeristy when you can get your kids one of these?



It is a computer, designed for kids 3-7, fully loaded and guess what? No-where in the text is the price (although they do say that "financing options" are available). A quick google search showed that this little unit is about $2000. The tag line for this is "Meet the future of early learning". Well, the kids in this house will be using this as their future of early learning...



Poor kids - I guess that is what you get when you live in a house with no cable!

Isn't she lovely?

There are days during the week that I have to drag my ass out of bed to tend to the second born who has not quite figured out yet that 5:30 am is NOT prime playtime in this house. There are other days where my pathetic butt must get up to actually get dressed to venture to the outside world and converse with real, live adults for 7.5 hours (not including lunch and coffee breaks). Those are the days, ironiclly enough, that Nicholas decides to sleep in just long enough to hear me shut the door on my way out. I am not sure what my mom has told him, but I am sure she had read his cute little ass the riot act so that she can have a bit of a sleep in on the days that she watches the wee angels while I am at the office.

There are mornings where I actually have enough time to scarf down breakfast, and spend more than 10 seconds trying to make myself look presentable to the general public. Those are the days that I am confident that I look like a real human being and not a mommy who has had 5 hours of sleep and been peed on before 6am. On the days that I can't quite manage to find a matching pair of shoes, much less actually put on my face or drag a comb through my hair I feel like someone who people stare at and think "oh my god...did she even LOOK at herself before she stepped out of her house???". Lucky for me, what is actually said to my face is "oh, you look tired". Hmmm....I got ALOT of that today.

mmmm....sand.

I have said in previous posts that if I didn't CLEARLY remember giving birth to my second born (no thanks to the nurse who refused to give me ANY drugs), I would swear sometimes that he is NOT my child. The other day I took one of the kiwi relatives to an ice cream joint here in Vancouver that has over 450 flavours of ice cream, and at least 200 available to select from at any one time (I am sure they would have all 500 out if they had the room). You would think that La Casa Gelato would have come up with a flavour that Nicholas would like, but no. I guess until they have sand flavoured ice cream we are out of luck.

I should have known something was up.

I walked into the kitchen the other day and found my second born asleep. IN his highchair. MID FEED.



I swear this is no child of mine. While I love sleep and food, I don't think I have ever fallen asleep while eating (although I am sure if my mom looked hard enough she would find a picture or two just to prove me wrong). Up until that point, Nicholas had eaten quite a bit which is odd, and then falling asleep on top of that - MIND BOGGLING.

Later that night, he woke up with a fever. Not just any fever, but one that sent my mommy radar into overdrive and had me phoning all kinds of hotlines to find out at what point short of bursting into flames should I take my son to the hospital. I am not a big one for trucking the offspring to the doctor for run of the mill sniffles, colds or fevers. But this was different. I don't know why, but it was. So I loaded the kid up on tylenol and held him for the next few hours while he alternated between demanding "Bob" (the builder) and his cup. Ironic that just a couple of days ago I was thinking about how he used to just fall asleep in my arms and how much I missed that. Yeah, careful what you wish for, I know. He stayed in my arms for about 6 hours, 10 minutes of that was sleep.

Once the fever started to go down a bit, I felt a tiny bit better, but not much. With Nicholas, not only do I worry about run of the mill stuff, but I think about his little ticker, and wonder if anything he catches will affect his heart in addition to doing whatever else it will do. Funny that I almost never think twice about his heart when he runs non stop all day, but as soon as he spikes a fever my fears set in and I just can't shake it. I guess it is something that I just have to get used to.

So later in the day I took him to the doctor. Of course, he pitched the BIGGEST fit while we were there, and wonder of all wonders, his fever had come down from the time we left the house until we got into see the doc. Apparently all we have to worry about is his high pitched, glass shattering screams whenever he sees a tongue depressor.

Ahhh...family.

In about an hour, we are off to the airport to say goodbye to some of the Kiwi contingent that came up for my brother's wedding. Although we only see them once every few years, every time we do get together it is like it was just yesterday the last time we saw them. It still amazes me that this is the nature of the relationship, I feel so close to these people, and really, New Zealand is like a second home to me. Last time they were all here was for my wedding, and I was too busy worrying about getting married and being a bridezilla to spend alot of time just relaxing and hanging out. My only worry about my brother's wedding was making sure that Ethan didn't lose any rings, and we accomplished that - just barely.

My cousin Michael brought out his girlfriend Stephanie out with him, and she fits into our clan like a glove. They were the perfect houseguests - ate my food (in fact, I am sure that I could put a plate of dog shit in front of them and they would have told me it was wonderful), put up with the kids getting up at 5 am, and were offering to help with just about anything at every turn (too bad I cleaned the house from top to bottom before they got here!). I am hoping they give us a great excuse (not that I need one) to get our asses down to NZ in the near future.....(did I mention that I love WEDDINGS???)

It seems odd that the wedding is now over. I am sure it is even more odd for my bro and my new sister (YAY) who can now finally relax and enjoy new married life. I have spent the last couple of days just playing around with lots of pics that I took of the lovely couple and remembering just what a really nice day it was - thank you Kirstin and Paul!

So, to the Kiwi's - thanks for coming up and adding a distinct "down under" flavour to the wedding. We all love you to bits.

And now, more pictures....


I love this picture of Kirstin - she looked absolutely stunning (even from the back!)







Evidence that there are gorgeous, beautiful days in Vancouver.

I LOVE weddings

Yesterday, my baby brother got married. It was a wonderful day and we had a great time. This was Ethan's big day too, and for the most part he did pretty well.

As I am still somewhat recovering, so this is going to be just a picture entry. Enjoy, and congrats Kirstin and Paul!

Food? What food?

As much as I try, I can't get my son to eat most real people food. Short of pinning him down and forcing it down his gullet (which I am not going EVER going to attempt for fear of getting my hand bitten off by the giant sized walrus tusks he has for teeth)I have no idea what I can do. Even the most kid loved foods (cheese, fries, McDonalds hamburgers) don't make it past my second born's frantically waving hands and looks of "get that the hell away from me".

A few weeks ago we had Nicholas' blood tested for iron levels, and surprisingly the test came back normal. I have no idea where he is getting his nutrients, but In the last week, Nicholas enthusiastically dined on a wide variety of items, NONE of them actual food. With one minor exception, fully chewed and swallowed the following:

Dirt
Ants (this is what he managed to get into his mouth, but didn't chew or swallow)
dirty pine cones
paper
blue crayon
carpet fluff
dust bunnies

One of his favourite things to eat on a regular basis are soap bubbles. When he is older I can just see my threats of washing his mouth out with soap - "yeah mom, bring it on!"

A swim in the bathroom

My little brother is getting married this weekend and so we are going to have a few visitors staying with us (if my kids are anything like they are THIS SECOND while our guests are here I am sure they will vacate the premisis within nanoseconds of stepping through the front door). Most of our guests will be relatives from New Zealand. I am pretty excited about them coming - we haven't seen them in ages, and frankly, it will be fun to have people around who talk funny (I just want to see if the kids pick up on it - yeah, I have NO life).

One very cool thing about NZ is their bathrooms. In most homes, the shower is in one room, the toilet in another, and the bathtub in another still. Why we don't do that in Canada I haven't been able to figure out. Imagine being able to take a crap while someone is having a shower IN A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT ROOM (Ok, I know most people can do this already with the advent of more than one bathroom in a house, but when I was a kid and we only had one place we could do our business, it would have been a very very cool thing to have indeed).

Speaking of bathrooms, Ethan has done really well in the toilet training department. He is at the point now where he demands privacy and he can do it "ALL BY MYSELF". Too bad I got super excited about him actually peeing, and not concentrating enough on where (specifically, his aim). I figured the toilet bowl is a big thing, and he is not, so it shouldn't be that difficult. But when I stepped into the bathroom the other day and into a huge puddle that was NOWHERE NEAR the toilet bowl, my first thought was "Oh shit - what the hell is leaking?". Now, being a woman who has never HAD to pee standing up, I don't give any thought to aim at all, I obviously am going to have to change my thinking as the testosterone level in this house is overwhelming. So needless to say, nothing was leaking, but my oldest son's aim was way way way off. I have heard of using cheerios in the toilet bowl as a target, but knowing my luck, Nicholas would just discover that as a new and tasty treat, and I am just not going to go there!

My new social life.

I was at the park the other day with a couple of girlfriends and their kiddos. The one thing that really sucks about playdates is that while it fulfills the social needs of the kids, us moms get the short end of the stick. I don't know how many times we had to halt coversation mid-sentence to chase one of the little rugrats. At least we all realize it is not rude, just a fact of life. Kinda like a night of interrupted sleep.

This park we went to was great in that it was totally fenced in. I could actually let Nicholas wander and do his thing and not worry about him getting out (or at least I didn't until Alex found a hole in the fence that he almost got through - and for once Nicholas was STANDING STILL and PAYING ATTENTION). Wouldn't you know it he tried the same thing five minutes later - unlucky for him I now move at lightning fast speed and had two extra sets of adult eyes watching. After Nicholas realized that he couldn't escape, he started his new trick - walking with his eyes closed. That was the first time I saw him do that, and he decided the best place to try out his new fantastic skill was in the path of the swings. I swear he has horseshoes up his ass, because he managed to navagate through the toddler swings (full of swinging toddlers) unscathed. True to form he was laughing and giggling all the way - even when he drives me nuts he is still pretty darned cute.

As if these kids weren't full of piss and vinegar already, Denise broke out the cookies. Not just any cookies, but cookies from a REAL bakery that are soft and chewy and just screaming to be eaten. I must admit, Ethan was a real sweetie - he came over to me and ASKED if he could have a cookie (for a three year old staring at what must seem like a mount Everest amount of chocolate bliss I was impressed). I caved and had one too (hell, it would have been so rude not too, and I am not one for offending my friends) as did Nicholas. I think the light must have gone on in his head, and we can now officially add bakery fresh chocolate chip cookies to the "oh hell ya feed me some of that" list.

Tourists in Vancouver

For the next two weeks, I am officially on holidays from work. I used to LOVE holidays, but with two kids, one of whom operates at two speeds - sleep and run - I might actually go into work for a day or two to have some holidays from home. I honestly think that my job is easier than parenting (on most days). I can have a coffee break and actually drink coffee when it is HOT. I have lunch and don't have to share any of it with anyone, or worry about greasy hands getting me all dirty (although, I must admit, they are awfully cute greasy hands).

So today I picked probably the most touristy thing to do in Vancouver - and that is go to Stanley Park and the aquarium. I knew it was a BAD idea when I got there and had to park miles away...duh....middle of the summer, Friday afternoon, beautiful sunny day, what the HELL was I thinking? So I decided that we would go through the aquarium quickly, and then find the most non-touristy spot (yeah, right) to have a picnic. Luckily the kids were quite co-operative, I think they inherited my aversion to crowds (should be interesting to see how we do if we ever visit CHINA) and we blitzed through the aquarium quite fast. The boys loved this little fella.



After that, we took a walk around the seawall and had a picnic - I am sure we could have sat there for hours watching float planes take off and land and listening to Ethan's commentary on all the people jogging by ("mommy, that man has NO SHIRT on" and "mommy, that man has breasts").

Maybe I will survive two weeks at home without gouging my eyes out....

I just don't get it.

I was a bit shocked today when one of my co-workers commented on my hair. He told me that it looked great (I checked to see if he had his glasses on). Usually, my hair only looks great on one of two occasions - the day before I have a hair appointment to get it all cut off or drastically changed, or a day that I know I will be stuck at home with NO chance of getting out in public and the only admirers of my perfect coif are two snotty nosed munchkins who only care if they can swing from my lid. My hair is naturally curly, and if it is a day in Vancouver when it ISN'T raining, it can look quite acceptable. Most of the time I am trying to make it straight because frizzy curls drive me nuts and I want to be sure that there isn't a family of rodents and their extended family that has taken up residence in the 'do.

Thanks to darling hubby, I was in a real rush this morning to get out the door and to work. It wasn't like I had enough time to get ready, my second born wakes up sometime between 4 am and 6 am - EVERY DAY. On the mornings that I work, I will get up with him and savor the partial peace and quiet as I drink my fully leaded coffee and attempt to pry my eyes open with the nearest blunt object. How he gets up at this hour in a fantastic mood is beyond me. He is quite happy to play with his toys as I sit at the kitchen table and read the paper. He knows that he is pushing his luck getting me up this early on a regular basis, so he lets me have some time to skim the newspaper and somewhat relax (I am about one step away from being in a COMA at that hour).

So I am taking my time, as I know that we don't have to leave the house until about 7:15 for our commute to work. At about ten to seven this morning, Ken comes into the kitchen, and this is the conversation I have with my beloved:

K - "what are you doing?"

Me - "what does it look like I am doing" (I am still in my sweats, looking like something the cat hocked up, sucking back coffee #3, and my hair is looking like a wet-mop)

K - "I thought you would be ready by now"

Me - "We still have more than 20 minutes before we have to leave" (I am not a big fan of spending alot of time getting ready for work, since I have had kids I have learned how to get ready and out the door in lightning speed if neccessary).

K - "we have to go NOW"

Me - "we do?"

K - "I have a meeting with the VP of the company this morning"

Me - "Oh, I didn't hear the phone ring"

K - "huh?"

M - "You know, the VP - did he just call to tell you to be at work a bit earlier?"

K - "No...."

Me - "oh, so you knew about this last night then eh?"

K - "uh..." (busted).

I love my hubby dearly, and if he misses this meeting with the VP and gets his ass fired, that means that he may have to stay home, and I would have to work full time. Tempting, very tempting....

Needless to say, he made his meeting, and I made it to work. Apparently I should be in such a rush everyday because the number of complements that I got on my hair today was actually pretty frightening.

Elmo...the dark side.

Ethan is a typical boy - rough and tumble, playing with all boy things and beating up his younger brother. I think the only "girl" thing he loves is Dora - and I ALMOST gave into his wanting Dora underwear (read - girls panties) while he was toilet training (thank GOD for finding Thomas underwear - I can't imagine explaining to my three year old why he is just too young to start cross dressing).

Even though he is all boy, anything motorized and moving freaks him out. If he sees batteries going into a car, he freaks out and wants them taken out right away. Funny that musical toys that DON'T move are ok, especially the really, really loud ones. What really has me shaking my head though is his reaction to this....








What you and I see is a cute fuzzing singing Elmo. When Ethan's Uncle Paul asked him to "turn on Elmo" this weekend, Ethan FLIPPED OUT and started to cry. We have to store Elmo in the closet where Ethan can't see it - we are convinced that every time we say "Elmo" he sees Chucky.

House beautiful...yeah right.

Our house is small, but it wasn't always that way. When we bought this place 5 years ago it was really roomy. There was the back room that we never used, and the spare bedroom that we just used for storage. Fast forward to today - two kids, three bedrooms, and a revolving door of guests that need somewhere to sleep besides the outside garden shed (that is reserved for my mom when she stays for her weekly babysitting stints). But even with all the people, nothing compares to all the TOYS that have accumulated over the years. We have a back area of the house that is the kids' "play area" and is in a permanent state of chaos.

I bought a pretty cool storage unit awhile ago - very similar to this one.



I thought it would be a great way to organize the back area (with two boys, WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING - organized, yeah right). It worked for awhile - the boys had learned to put some stuff away - some being about 5% of their toys, I did the rest. But last week, Ethan discovered the joys of taking all the containers and tipping them out. All over the floor. Making a huge mess. So I told him that if he did it again, I was going to empty all the toys out in a big box and put them in the shed. He tipped everything out and HELPED me put the toys in the big box to go into the shed. So now he is playing with 10 big empty plastic bins and LOVING IT. Almost as much as the empty paper towel tubes and plastic cutlery. Now if he would just fall out of love with everything Thomas, I'd be set and never have to spend a dime on the kids again....

Did I say he didn't eat?

Oops, pardon me. I think I claimed in a previous post that my son was a picky eater. I was so WRONG. When it comes to window grime and bug infested dirty pinecones, he is at the front of the line. Hell, he'll even wash it down with water from the dog dish.

The other side

On our way to work (Ken and I both work in downtown Vancouver so we carpool) we travel through one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Canada - the downtown east side. Today, in the span of about 30 seconds, I saw about 5 people shooting up and a man in a very nice car (with a baby carseat in the back) picking up one of the many desperate hookers on the street. It is quite sad really, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach every time we drive through that area of town. The women who are working the streets are more often than not hooked on drugs and are working to keep up the drug habit. Drug use is rampant and out in the open - you can watch from your car at a red light a number of drug deals going down (depending on what intersection you are at).

Tonight on the way home, we were SECONDS from hitting someone. A woman who was obviously strung out stepped into traffic, and it was almost all in slow motion -I could see it coming - she was teetering on the edge of the curb just as we drove by, and she was hit by a car that had tried to avoid her at the last second. It wasn't clear if she hit the car or the car hit her, she just fell over, and then got up and continued to weave through traffic (6 lanes in total). She didn't even appear to be hurt. It amazes me that anyone could make it clear across in a clear state of mind, never mind totally strung out on drugs.

I have often wondered how someone winds up there. I can't imagine anyone wishing to live that kind of life. I am sure that there are many people with mental illness just trying to get by hour by hour, and those that felt there was no other option than being on the street (I can't even begin to think what kind of life some must have experienced to get to that point).

I am thankful that I have not fallen prey to the addiction of drugs. When I was in high school, the hardest stuff I ever saw was pot, and now with the rampant use of meth I get scared for my kids and hope that they never find themselves in a situation where they are going to get hooked. I wonder what kind of world it will be when my boys are teenagers and it scares the shit out of me.

Weekly ritual

Ken and I have had a Sunday morning ritual for the last five years. We have breakfast at this greasy spoon diner that is a five minute walk from our place. Both boys have been going to the diner since they were only days old, and it has proven to be a great training ground for them (and us) as far as eating out goes. Not that we eat out much at all, but at least the boys have learned (to some degree) that their neanderthal behaviour at home when it comes to eating should be toned down a bit for when we are eating around the public that is not family.

Each week we see the same people at the diner - which is good because they know the boys well, and they couldn't care less when they find foreign bits of kid sized pancake bits sailing across the room. We rarely see other kids at the diner, so I think the boys are treated extra special by other people in the joint (especially the dog walking ladies who eat club sandwiches at 8 am after thier Sunday morning stroll). Funny, we don't know anyone's names, but I can tell you where they all sit and what most have for breakfast. If that old crusty guy in the corner ever dies, the only way I will know it is him is if his death notice says he enjoyed extra strong coffee, and dry toast with butter on the side. Hell, I think it would kill him if he ever smiled. He is the odd one in the bunch - for the most part everyone is really friendly.

Today, my three year old was an angel at the diner (yeah, I know what I wrote in my last post, I bet he was great today ON PURPOSE just to PROVE ME WRONG). He just about got a standing ovation from the regulars when the waiter brought his breakfast - He stood up and said "Thank you Bill" then sat down to eat. Just loud enough for everyone to hear and with ZERO prompting from the parental units. I just wish I would have caught it on video...just a reminder to myself that the little monkey is great at pulling one out of the hat just when mommy is about to lose her sanity.

Two? A cakewalk.

Conversations with a three year old (what he says):

"you go away"
"I do it myself"
"NO"
"Yup"
"I do it myself"
"NO Nicky"
"I want (insert food item here)" and on a good day, "please"
"I DO IT MYSELF!"
"I no share"
"Why?"
"I don't like it"
"I not eat THAT!"
"I don't want a nap"
"NO BATH"

Whoever said the twos were terrible were lying. Three is much, much worse.

An extra big hug today

This morning Ken phoned me soon after he left the house for work. It was early, but thanks to the second born who regularly gets up before anything else in this neighbourhood (including the birds) I was already wide awake since about 5ish. He told me to turn on the tv, there had been bombings in London.

I am sure I would have heard about it all by tonight. I was enjoying my morning, loving the fact that I didn't have to work today and could just stay home and hang out with the boys. Nicholas and I were playing with cars in the play room, Ethan was still sleeping. On mornings like this, the TV doesn't go on until about mid afternoon, so I find out about all the news when I turn on the computer.

I don't know what it is when you become a parent, but I have found that news like this hits me alot harder than it used to in my young and single days. I think about my family, and the protective mode sets in. I think about the families that have been touched by awful things that go on, and feel for them - what it is like to lose a husband, a child or a close family memeber in such a tragic event I cannot begin to comprehend. It makes me want to wrap my arms around my family and never, ever let them out of my sight. But I also know that our job as a parents is to love our kids with all our hearts, and help them to become wonderful, independent people.

I am noticing at Ethan gets older that he is getting more and more independent, and depending on me less and less. I have such mixed feelings when I see him at the park, able to conquer the playground equipement with such relative ease, whereas a year ago, I had to constantly help him. "I do it myself" is a constant reminder to me that I am not needed as much as I used to be. It makes me proud and scared all at the same time.

I am thankful every day that I have my family, and in particular, Nicholas. Looking at him, I often forget everything that he has been through in his short little life. He had heart surgery at three days old, and I have never felt so scared and helpless in my entire life. He is doing really well, and to look at him you would never know that he has had issues with his little ticker. Both Ken and I hope that is the most stressful thing we will ever have to deal with as far as our kids are concerned.

Extra big hugs today to all those who are near and dear to me.

Summertime in the city

I had to double check the calendar today - it said JULY but being outside I swear it is February. It isn't too cold, but it is raining non-stop. I have pretty much lived on the west coast for most of my life, so it isn't like I don't expect any different, but DAMN I wish it would get sunny!

All the rain is causing havoc on our lawn. It is growing way too fast, and all the weeds in the garden are out of control. I suck at anything garden related - I buy plants, I plant them and they DIE. One would figure that since I have a biology degree and can manage to feed and water my kids I would somehow know how NOT to kill plants. I kinda feel like the Darla (the fish killer from the movie Nemo) of the plant world. Plants see me coming and they know that death is only a couple of weeks away.

Hi ho, hi ho, the mullet didn't go.

Canada day was going to be a celebration of sorts in this household. We had decided that we were going to celebrate Canada day in the most un-Canadian way we could think of. Beer, none in the house. Hockey? None for the last year. Mullets - yes, only one and something HAD to be done about it. My baby, in his 15 months of life has grown just about THE CUTEST mullet you will ever lay eyes on. The funny thing is, the rest of his head is always perfectly coiffed and many a time people have asked if my baby has yet had a haircut. Only the back seems to grow - and it is the softest, cutest baby mullet EVER.




We often joke about our boys' hair - Nicholas has the soft silky locks, while Ethan's hair is much thicker. But when Ethan was a baby, had hair that stood on end all the time - and that too was just too cute for words (is anyone barfing yet?).




So the plans were set to go to the hairdressers to get the mullet removed. But I couldn't go through with it. I remember Ethan's first haircut, and I just about cried when it was done because it looked so good and he didn't look like my baby anymore, he looked like a big boy. And I am just not ready for that yet.

It is nice to know that if Nicholas keeps the mullet, he doesn't limit his career choices. According to this ad, the Canadian government is looking for corrections officers (hmmmm....mullets guarding mullets, a most Canadian way of doing things indeed!).

Close up

This is about all the energy I have to do today - here are some west coast pics I took a couple of weeks ago when visiting my parents on their little wee island. Oh yeah, Happy Canada Day.



Just hanging out for some sugar...


Why do all the male hummingbirds look so pretty and colourful?


Hey mom, this isn't too far from a MOTH!