My poor poor baby.

His mom is a dumbass. I have no idea what the hell made me think that I am remotely qualified to cut the hair of my second born. He sits still for about 2 seconds at a time, on a good day. I managed to get him strapped into his high chair, put the tv on, and away I went. the top and sides look fantastic. The back...well that is a WHOLE OTHER STORY. I brought out the clippers. He moved. And my baby looks like a rat had a good gnaw at the back of his head under his new bowl cut. Oh it is bad. My husband laughed. Hard. If Nicholas only knew how awful the back of his head looked he wouldn't step out in public for at least a year. Because that is how long it is going to be before the hack job at the back of his head grows back. Sigh.

A bit of a hiatus...

Ummmm....oops. Seems I haven't blogged in a bit. Honestly, I haven't had the energy with all the Christmas stuff, work stuff, and stupid "why the hell did I decide to do that" online courses. I write my final for my course on January 9th, and then it is back to some sort of normal way of life...I hope.

I have about a zillion pictures to upload, but for now, cruise on over to this cool site for some great shots. Of course I am talking about my kids! My Bro and brand new sis (yea!) were over last night to babysit the munchkins while Ken and I took in a hockey game.

I love going to hockey games. The world junior's are here in Vancouver right now, and Canada played at the game we were at last night. You see all kinds of people at the games (and we saw these guys at the bar afterwards too...)

Almost gone.

There was a big dump of snow in the greater Vancouver area last week (ok, for you on the east coast it was more likely a "skiff") - and it is just disappearing from our place now. We are up quite high on a hill, and for some weird reason, right in the middle of a snowbelt. Six blocks up from our place and six blocks down, there is about half the amount of snow that we get at our house. The kids love it. Driving to work is a challenge. For about 5 minutes. Four wheel drive for about a mile, and then it is all rain and no snow. Truly bizarre.

Anyways, here is the first snowman of the year. Ethan can't wait to build #2.

Meet Gordon.

Most little ones have an object that they covet, love, and will never leave home without. A warm, cuddly lovey. Somthing that doesn't hurt like hell when it is accidently smacked against your upper lip.

Nicholas' constant companion is a regular fixture around this place. Meet Gordon.



Gordon is one of Thomas the tank engine's friends. Nicholas knows the name of most of them, but Gordon is by far his favourite. Gordon was aquired about three months ago at the bottom of a box of train tracks that I picked up at a garage sale. As you can see, he has been well used. Gordon does everything Nicholas does. He is the most well fed and bathed train. EVER.

Here is Gordon playing in the leaves.



Gordon having breakfast with Santa.



Gordon's first time in the snow. It was a bit cold, but we think he enjoyed himself.



Nicholas loves his Gordon Train. You won't get a look this cute if you decide to mess with his cherished toy.




No, he may not be as cuddly as a soft, plush animal, but you can still take him to bed and love him just as much.

The science geek in me couldn't resist.

This is a pretty cool site (if you are a geek...which I am). Just put anything you want in, and the brainy one will write it for you.

A whole new way to shop...

Anyone who knows me knows that I hate to grocery shop. Because this past couple of weeks have pretty much gone to hell in a handbasket, and the stress levels have hit an all-time high (and a special big thank-you goes out preschool parents everywhere who make "parent participation" a four letter word) I haven't been eating a hell of a whole lot. Funny how that in NO WAY corresponds to any resulting weight loss - which there has been none.

So when I saw Nicholas lifting up the cushions on the couch and hungrily inhaling dustbunnies, I figured that I had better make a trip to the grocery store. But this time WITH NO KIDS.

Now I must admit, as much as my offspring are a handful, they are pretty good when I take them out grocery shopping - as long as I am prepared. Prepared as though I was going on a treck in the outback, and not seeing another living soul for days. Even though isle six sells the fish cookies that they love, they just don't taste the same if they haven't been taken home first and put in the special jar - so for those of you thinking I am the biggest dumbass for taking all kinds of snacky food to go GROCERY SHOPPING, you don't know my kids. I don't care if I have to strap on a 30lb backpack with all kinds of provisions - if it keeps them quiet and co-operative without me having to hog-tie them to the buggy, I am doing it.

But yesterday was a big treat. Ken realizes that I don't get to go out as much as I used to before kids, so he told me to take a break and go grocery shopping (which I hate) on my own. Yeah, nice break. But I'll take it.

So of I went to one of our local grocery stores. I got a buggy with a coffee holder, chucked my list in the garbage, grabbed a huge mocha, and set out going up and down EVERY isle in the store. TWICE. When I usually shop, I have my list, I know exactly where everything is, and I am in and out of the store in about 20 minutes (unless of course if Ethan decides to "help" me bag my groceries, which tacks on about another 10 minutes or so). But yesterday was different. It was almost relaxing. I spent far too much money (amazing what you don't know stores have until you really look), and took about an hour and a half.

I think I could make this a regular thing....almost.

Sign me up for some of that baby!

The best thing about feeling like something the cat hocked up when you are not pregnant or breastfeeding? DRUGS. I am going to pump me so full of cold and sinus medication that I am going to sleep for days.

How to piss me off.

Come into work. SICK. When you have about a bizillion sick days banked.

Stay at home, watch tv all day, get PAID to do it. Just don't come into work hacking and wheezing into my cubicle and spreading your sick bug all over me. Argh.

On a happier note, preschool is back in next week. And because I got really pissed off at this meeting last night and opened my big ol mouth (in an angry kinda nice way), I am now on the new executive. At least preschool will be in again, and hopefully this foray into the whole education experience called PRESCHOOL will be what it should be. Flying paint, messy crafts and screaming kids having a blast. I can't wait.

Shit....fan....splat.

This past week has been a bit of a roller coaster. Work is nuts. Kids are nuts. Online courses with assignments and tests are not getting done. Oh, and Ethan's preschool teacher has left. So he has no more preschool for now, until they find someone else.

I have mentioned in past posts that Ethan is in a parent participation preschool. And along with all the good touchy feely holding hands singing kumbaya stuff comes the nasty awful side of parents too. I had struggles with Ethan's teacher - I wasn't overly impressed, but having said that, he really liked her and he loved pre-school. I thought about changing schools at one point, but a very good friend of mine who is a teacher told me that in his school life I will come across many teachers who I will not like, and am I going to set a precident by pulling him out of preschool just because I don't think the teacher is awesome? Good point. Very good point.

So I just sucked it up, and kept quiet (except of course to my non-preschool friends who I am sure wished I would shut up about it!). Until last week when I was chatting with another mom and found out that lo and behold, I am in fact NOT the only one who is not impressed. The preschool Ethan is in has two classes - 3 year olds and 4 year olds. The mom's of the three year olds for the most part weren't overly impressed, but we chatted about the situation and pretty much thought, as a group, that the thing to do would be just work it out for the rest of the year (till June), and then re-evaluate what to do over the summer. The kids were having fun, and getting pretty much all they needed. The four year old class was a whole different ball game - and just today I found out that a number of those families have pulled their kids out. And now those of us who have made the comittment to finish out the year are left holding the bag, and the keys to a school we can't open until we form a whole new executive and hire a new teacher. Over the Christmas holidays. Good freaking luck.

What the hell happened to playing nice in the sandbox? I am cringing at the next 18 years of school if I have to put up with all this stuff hitting the fan now....

Thanks a bunch!

I have been nominated in two categories - best new blog & best personal blog in the Canadian Blog Awards. What a very nice thing for someone to do....I am flattered as hell.

Voting has started, you can vote once/day.

What a long long week....

This past week has been LONG. Work has been a gong show (part-time MY ASS!!!) and the boys have been acting like they are on fast forward ALL DAY LONG. I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I signed up for a parent participation preschool and online courses at the same time, all the while working, ferrying kiddos to and fro, and trying to squeeze in some time for photography and making cards. "Me" time consists of a weekly date with Donald Trump, and the odd time I can get into the bathroom BY MYSELF.

This past week Vancouver was sopped in with fog. For days. I don't ever remember fog lasting so long. For the first few days it was really cool - the kids loved playing in the fields and wandering away just far enough that I could barely see them (except for the light up laser spiderman shoes they recently got as gifts from China...I suspect that they will obliterate their retinas if they ever look diretly at the flashing lights!). After a few days of fog though it got a bit depressing. Not as bad as a month of rain, but I just wanted some sunshine. I can't believe that I didn't take any pictures. Damned stress.

Who reads this stuff anyways?

When I first started this blogging thing, it was an "outlet" for me to gripe, whine and bitch about bits and pieces of my life so that I wouldn't drive my friends or co-workers nuts (hell, I already do that, why add fuel to the fire?). I still haven't told alot of people about it - my family knows, a few close friends, maybe two co-workers, and a group of moms that I regularly chat with online (hi AM'ers!) and that is about it. I have to laugh when friends tell me that they know be better now (and maybe a bit more than they ever wanted to) since reading this blog. I know that the few blogs that I read of people I actually know in "real life" are quite entertaining, and give a great perspective into someone you thought you knew quite well. I really do look forward to reading the blogs I regularly keep up with on a daily basis - even those of people I don't know at all.

I am not a writer (shhh....don't tell my boss - I have lots of reports that I have to get written in the next while, and I don't want my mantra of "baffle with bullshit" figured out quite yet). I do enjoy this blog thing though.

And for the person in Switzerland who came across it by googling "manure inspector pictures", I hope the elephant shit shots helped.

If I get an lazier, they'll have to call this a photoblog.

We had a couple of guys from out of town in our office today (one from Atlantic Canada and the other from Ontario). Neither had been to the west coast before, and as luck would have it, RAIN wasn't in the forcast for today. It was beautiful & sunny....

Lazy blog...

I just had a quick look into the bowels of the "my pictures" folder....holy crap if I don't do a CD burn soon I am hooped if I crash the computer....just some random shots....

If you think your job's bad....

I was reading the editorial section of our local paper yesterday, and I think I missed the boat on the whole job opportunity thing. Who knew many moons ago when I got my biology degree that I could of had one of these jobs:

Orangutan Pee Collector
Job description: Attach a plastic bag to a pole and chase the apes through the rainforest to gather samples of their urine.

My qualifications - Aside from my degree...I have boys. That love to run around naked. One of who isn't toilet trained. No plastic bags or poles needed in this house. Just some super absorbent paper towel.

Semen Washer
Job description: Lab technicians who are engaged by sperm banks to prepare sperm for long-term storage.

My qualifications: Ummmm....none. Although I have washed out my fair share of test tubes, but somehow it just isn't the same thing.

Volcanologist
Job description: being able to run to the site of a rumbling volcano when everyone else is running in the opposite direction.

My qualifications: I have had my fair share of eruptions to clean up in this house. Enough said.

Manure inspector
Job description: Wade through mountains of animal shit to find ways to eliminate e-coli, campylobacter and salmonella from the food chain.

My qualifications: I have two boys. Both of who have swallowed things in the past that I had to patiently wait for at the other end. While it isn't mountains of poop, it is enough to have to pick through to find that small piece of plastic train wheel that looked awfully appetizing to the second born who hates real food.

Somehow my usual "I'm from the government and I am here to help you" doesn't sound quite so bad...

Sleep, sugar and coffee...

Oh it has been a long week. Nicholas has been going back to his usual "I am not going to sleep through the night" routine - which he bloody well should be out of by this point. When he does wake up (at about 2 a.m., just as I am in the middle of a deep, deep sleep) it is to let me know that he is not pleased to be confined to his crib at such an hour. In fact, he is usually so pissed, that he wakes up his brother while yelling and screaming for someone to just PAY ATTENTION to him. One morning last week he stayed awake until about 7:30 am. After five hours of early morning play, he FINALLY figured out that sleep was a good thing. He glanced over at me, ignoring my caffeine induced state of consciousness with a look as if to say "keep the noise to a dull roar, I need a nap".

So by this time, I am walking around like a zombie, and Ethan is getting all excited about preschool. Oh yes, preschool. I decided that I wanted to be an integral part of my child's learning experience, so I signed "us" up at a parent participation preschool. In involves helping out in the class about two times/month, and wouldn't you know it, this month with all the Halloween activities and leftover candy, I have been scheduled to help out a few times. Imaging sixteen three year olds in a permanent state of SUGAR OVERLOAD, and me in a permanent state of sleep deprivation and caffeine shock. What a combination.

Speaking of participation, part of this whole preschool thing involves going to monthly meetings. They are held on Monday nights, which is probably the worst night of the week. In fact, tonight I didn't go. Apparently the guest speaker was a librarian who was speaking on the importance of reading to your kids. I wonder what her reaction would be if she knew my kids current favourites were these....

Conversation at snack time...

"mama, what's that"

"That's a wagon wheel"

"I got it trick-or-treating mama? I eat it now?"

"Yes honey, you can eat it"

10 seconds later....

"That was a yummy volkswagon mama!!!"

Ah, his uncle would be proud.

I was so impressed with myself until my friend sent me this:

My pumpkins are so pansy-assed compared to these. My girlfriend did these for her kids after they specifically requested them. Um. Yeah. Wow.

Trick or freak

The closest I got this year to dressing up for Halloween was getting my hair all chopped off. While I know it is going to take alot of getting used to (my hair was quite long), it is a nice change. The one really good thing about changing my appearance at this stage of my life is that I don't have to worry about what guys will think or if I will still be able to get a date. Poor Ken is in it for better or worse, and when I told him the hair might all come off, he just rolled his eyes, because that is what I say EVERY time I go to the hairdressers. Happy Halloween honey!!! My new do caused quite a stir at the office. You'd think I shaved my head by the reaction I got from my co-workers. They all said they liked it. My girlfriend M's reaction when I e-mailed her and told her that I got it all whacked off AND got bangs was "NO WAY!!!". I am sure she still doesn't believe me.

The one thing I hate about Halloween (besides dressing up) is all the old kids that come to the house at about 8:30 pm, essentially demanding candy OR ELSE. Because I am not a big fan of smashed pumpkins or dried egg residue on my windows I oblige. I hope those turds enjoy the year old glosette raisin packs that I save each year for the next years batch of bozos.

Ok, now that I have that out, the kiddos had a fantastic time this year with halloween. Ethan especially enjoyed it, and oh what manners my kid has. Just after "trick-or-treat" he would say "now give me my candy please" in his oh-so-cute-and-I-am-only-three-can-you-believe-it voice. At least he said thank-you.

We did have to prepare him for his first "real" trick or treat experience this year. You see, in past years, we have only gone to the neighbours homes (two of them), and because they are retired folk, they shower extra goodies on both boys. They actually give them goodie bags with candy & chocolate and PRESENTS. So when Ethan finally realized that he would be going trick-or-treating to more than just two houses this year, his eyes lit up and he just about peed his pants thinking of all the "presents" he would bring home. I quickly brought him down to earth explaining to him that he would get one small candy for each home he went to. Well, after looking through his loot bag tonight, it seems that I am the cheapest assed candy giver in all of Vancouver. He can't quite figure out how he got such a bag full of loot when he only went to about 6 houses. Go figure.

So of course I have the requisite pictures of both boys. Oh, and check out my pumpkins. I am quite impressed with myself. Ken is not so impressed that I used his drill to do the holes in the small pumpkins.


Nicholas was not liking his costume too much.




Ethan's new favourite thing to do... "Trick-or-treat!"


THIS is how I got a bag full of loot!



Awwwww.....



My pumpkins.

I'm famous! Well, kinda sorta...ok, not really.

I have Rick Mercer's blog as one of my links to the side on your right. He is a very funny Canadian who, in addition to making all kinds of fun of our politicians (and yes, Canadian politics is a joke, but I digress...) loves to challenge his readers to photoshop various pics he puts on his blog. My contribution was the wardrobe malfunction. The scary guy's face is our Prime Minister...

Mmmmm.....

There is a new coffee shop going up near my work. That makes SEVEN within a one-block radius of my office door. None of them are chains either - they are all small, independent very expensive coffee shops. And they are flourishing. Man, us government workers must drink alot of coffee.

It is ironic that just as this new coffee shop is starting, I am thinking about going off of coffee, and drinking alot more water. A few months ago before my brother got married, I was bound and determined to lose a huge amount of weight so I could be waif-like (yeah, I know, 5'10 waif - in my dreams). I lost almost 15 pounds, and as of July 31st, not another ounce has come off, and I am still "dieting". I have actually changed the way I eat for the most part, and most days I do really well. I am trying not to make it a chore or hard to do, so when I crave something, I have it. Unfortunately, I think my body has fixated itself on my current weight, and no matter what I do, it seems that it isn't making a hill of beans of difference (unless someone is screwing with my scale....)

I read somewhere that if you drink lots and lots of water, it will help with the weight loss. I figure that since the can is exactly 104 steps from my desk at work, all that exercise going to the bathroom will burn enough calories to see that last 10-15 just melt away.

Gee thanks honey.

As of right now we are just over 11 days away from Halloween. And thanks to my beloved, we have 3.3 kg (for my friends south of the 49th, that is 7.27 pounds) of chocolate in the house. 245 little candy bars screaming to be eaten, no matter where I hide them. That is about 23 pieces of candy per day until Halloween. I think the kids in the neighbourhood are going to be very, very disappointed when the knock at our door this year. Maybe we'll just hand out bottled water.



I'll post pics of my fat, chocolate filled gut later.

A day of firsts.

Today was a day of firsts. For both Ethan and Nicholas. It all started out this morning with Ethan's preschool - and his first ever show-and-tell. So last night Ethan and I sat down and we talked about what he wanted to take to preschool to show all his new friends. I suggested the usual - cars, trains, teddy bears, mom's catalog of photos she sells to pawn off on said friends parents, etc. Ethan decided pretty quickly what he wanted to take. Nicky. Now I know this is HIS decision, but I tried to explain to him that Nicky wouldn't fit in the show-and-tell bag (well, maybe he would if I folded him in half...). Ethan didn't care. He wanted to bring his brother. So we put a picture of Nicky in the show and tell bag, and when I dropped him off this morning I told his teacher what Ethan wanted and she told us to come back early and she would move show-and-tell to the end of the class so Ethan could show off his brother. So that is what we did. Ethan had a great time, and if I was smart I would have brought my camera....to remind them when they are beating the crap out of each other of what a sweet thing they did when they were young. I did take my camera out today when we went to the park though....







Nicholas had a couple of firsts today. He said the word "cank coo" this morning (translation - "thank you"). Now he has been saying thank you for months. But instead of the words, he has been signing and saying the word "hot". When he first learned some sign language, he got the sign for "hot" and "thank you" mixed up. So he would sign the right sign, but say the wrong word. But we knew what it meant and it was so darned cute...

Nicholas' second first of the day was that he ate meat. And carrots. And potatoes. And red peppers. ALL AT ONCE. Now, for a child who is very picky, and the only meat he eats with any regularity is garlic sausage (translation - pigs lips & assholes) this was a BIG thing. I made a Malaysian curry and cleaned out the fridge, threw it all in the crockpot and voila...he LOVED it. Woo hoo.

Some like it hot...

What I wouldn't give to be on a beach, swimming in the ocean, just being WARM again. Sigh. This is about the best I can do right now - Hawaii, 2003. Enjoy.

Chinese Immersion

I have read quite a bit on kid development and how little baby's brains are just sponges ready to absorb anything and everything around them. Case in point - just utter the word "holy shit" once and it is a permanant part of their limited language. Funny how every word coming out of Nicholas' cute little mouth is almost impossible to decipher, except those he knows damned well he shouldn't be saying in the presence of his older brother's preschool teacher.

I think I have mentioned before that my sons both understand quite a bit of Chinese, even though they don't speak it. It is quite amusing to watch my in-laws talk to the boys in a language that makes absoultely no sense to me, and yet they understand it perfectly. What is even more amusing is when they "forget" that I am caucasian, and speak to me in Chinese for several sentences before they figure out that I don't understand a thing coming out of their mouthes. Believe it or not it has happened more than once. I kind of think of it as a complement really, I have blended in pretty well with the family. I think it must be my chopstick handling and ability to inhale every single Chinese food item my mother-in-law sets in front of me. So I had to chuckle the other day when I came across this photo.




Apparently, this dog's owners up and left, and the SPCA soon figured out that this dog's first language was not English. He was raised in a Chinese household, so the typical "sit" "stay" and "don't shit on the neighbour's lawn" means absoultely nothing.

Did you even look at yourself before you walked out of the house?

I have often wondered what people are thinking when they dress themselves in the morning and step out of the house. It is like there were no mirrors in the place, and stuff was just haphazardly thrown together in the hopes (or not) that everything would look ok. On days that I go into work and have to interact with people who, generally speaking, can string more than four-word-sentences together and cut their own food, I try to look halfway decent. The sweats and ball cap that are my usual uniform when I have children in tow are cast aside three days of the week for more stylish (or so I thought) attire. I actually comb my hair, put on make-up, and give the facade that I might actually know what I am doing when it comes to blending into the adult world.

So last week, with my poker straight hair (I love to iron it out as it is naturally curly, and in this Vancouver rain it may as well be a brillo pad), carefully applied face paint and newly purchased outfit, I thought I was lookin pretty stylin. I even had a few complements at work. Nice. It happened to be the kickoff day for United Way fundraising, so there was lots of food and cameras around (for once, I was not behind said cameras). Yesterday while checking my work e-mail, there was a post from one of the organizers and photo takers, providing a link to a page where there were a few pics posted of the day's festivities.

How is it that I can look in the mirror, think I look ok and somewhat human, yet look like complete and utter crap in a picture? It was like the camera was playing a bad joke and purposely distorted how I looked just to piss me off. What's worse, everyone else in the photo looked fine. YIKES. Maybe I should be taking a better look at myself before I step out of the house.

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.