Back to reality...

Ken and I just got back from Hawaii...I didn't realize that I would be missed, but I got a few e-mails from some readers wondering where the heck I was. Funny - my kids couldn't have cared less we were gone!

It was a pretty good trip down, we flew with
Harmony Airways and the service was pretty good, and the food wasn't bad either. Much better than Air Canada - I try to avoid them at all costs if I can. We flew into Honolulu, and after we landed, we had to clear homeland security before we caught a connector to Kauai. Ken was wearing his knee brace (similar to this one) under his pants, and he set every damned alarm off in the joint. He was pulled off to the side, had a wand passed over every inch of his body, and questioned right down to his underwear size. They swabbed his hands, his brace, and for a second, I honestly thought they were going to make him drop his drawers so they could swab his ass. Thankfully they didn't. For all his trouble, he got a cute little sticker.

We make our way to claim our luggage after the knee brace fiasco, we came across a group of guys who were checking the contents of their "luggage" with a gentleman with a clipboard. All we heard was a series of numbers. As we got closer, we could see that their "luggage" was actually these huge, semi-automatic guns. A group of us were keeping our distance, and in complete shock that this was being done about 10 feet from the luggage claim area. You just don't see that in Canada (at least I haven't). I wanted to pull out my camera SO BADLY, but Ken would have wrestled me to the ground if I had tried. After what he had just been through with his knee brace, he wasn't about to find out how they would deal with his shudder happy wife taking pictures of those big black guns. I have a whole new respect for my girlfriend who shot a roll of film in a restricted area when she was in Iran. I wish I had the guts to have snuck a few shots in Hawaii!

That was about the most adventure we had all week - which is just fine by me. We spent quite a bit of time exploring the island, did some kayaking, swimming in the ocean, and seeing a luau. All in all it was a great holiday. My parents are slowly recovering from a week with the kids, and reality has hit both Ken and I square in the face. It hardly feels like we were away!

Pictures to come....

More of what???

I don't think it is too much of a secret that I want more kids - at least on the days where the two I have don't send me close to the edge. They have been really good this past week - which does not bode well for Ken when we head off on vacation (without the kids) in a few days. I really want to try for a little girl (but would be happy with another boy), but Ken is convinced that if we try again, I will have twin boys and we will have to work until we are 80 in order to support FOUR boys. I am not convinced it would be that bad, although I can imagine the grocery bill would be a tad overwhelming when they got older.

One of my co-workers was asking me the other day what our plans were when we were away. I looked at her, and said (straight faced I might add) "I'm going to get knocked up". She just about spat out her coffee in shear and utter shock - and asked me if Ken knew about this. Oh, Ken knows. Every vacation we have taken in the past (with the exception of our honeymoon and a wedding we went to back east last year) I have got pregnant (either that or I was already pregnant on the vacation). So, I figure the odds are pretty much in my favour.

My other aim is to get a nice tan. I am not much of a lie-in-the-sun person, but I sure as hell am a swim-in-the-warm-ocean type of person, so chances are I will be getting a bit of colour. That would be a nice change from my rain induced pasty white complexion at the moment.

Too bad when Ken came home after work he told me that he made a pit stop on the way home....for condoms and sunscreen.

Rain, rain go away...

As I was trying to dodge the rain today I suddenly realized that I don't own an umbrella. I live in VANCOUVER and I have managed to get by for a couple of years now without one.

Yesterday we had a patch of sunshine, and it was beautiful. Even though my window at work overlooks a dumpster in a pretty icky area of the city, that one patch of blue sky and sunshine made even that look beautiful. I love this city - and I don't even mind the rain too much.

A few weeks ago it seemed as though the big man upstairs was screwing with us Vancouverites. Vancouver's longest wet spell began January 6, 1953, and ended 29 days later. We were on track to beat that record a couple of weeks ago. We got to 28 days. Then the sun shone. FOR ONE DAY. Just enough so we couldn't get the record. And then, wouldn't you know it, just to rub it in, it has pretty much been pissing down ever since. Sigh. The kids love it though. We go out for walks and stomp in every single puddle we come across. The one great thing is that when the sun does come out and shine, it is like magic (and no, the cherry blossoms are not out. Yet.).

Whose wee legs are those?

I wrote here awhile ago about a photoshoot that both Nicholas and Ethan were in for a shoe company. Robeez make soft leather shoes for kids, and their head office is just outside of Vancouver. Their catalog and web-page with the new shoes came out today, and Nicholas' wee legs and feet can be seen right here. We'll have to wait and see what happens with Ethan's shots. I suspect that they wound up on the cutting room floor.

Sigh. The things that I find exciting.....I must get out more.

We got a new desk. Now we need a new house.

A few weeks ago, one of my co-workers asked me if I could use a computer desk. He said it was in great condition, but he got a new desk and wanted to find a good home for the one he had been using. Without thinking, I automatically said "sure!".

After I arranged to pick up the desk, I thought long and hard about where the hell we would put it in our house. We already have a computer desk that is wedged in a corner in the boys' play area, and our house is full to the rafters with mostly kids stuff. I can't wait for someone I know to get knocked up so I can get rid of alot of it!

So I pick up the desk, bring it home and leave it in the living room. Ken is looking at me like I have two heads, and I am sure he is wondering what the hell I was thinking. I did think at the time I said "yes" to this desk that it would be great for the boys in a few years. I just didn't think long and hard where it would live until then. While I mulled over where it could fit where it wouldn't stand out like dog's balls, I figured that since we had nowhere to put it, we needed a new house. But since we can't afford a new house (or a very very old one thanks to the Vancouver real-estate market) I decided to leave the desk in the living room and put some plants around it so that maybe it could look like it just blends in.

It isn't only the desk that is a new furniture item in this house. The boys got a great play fort for Christmas, and Ken and I have been trying to think of a place to put that monstrosity. It is really cute, but their play area is so full of stuff, that we had to move some crap from there and put it in the spare room (sorry mom, I guess you are now sleeping out in the shed) to make room for the new fort.

So we spent a good part of our Saturday night (yes, the riveting lives of married folk) putting this thing together.



The boys loved it. That is, until they saw the box it came in. Oh the joys. Lord help us all if we get a new fridge anytime soon!

Tit for tat.

Ethan was looking over my shoulder today and was asking why I didn't post a picture of him...

"mama, where's Ethan? Why isn't he on the computer?"

Well honey, here you go. Boy I wish I could crawl into his little wee brain and see how his little noggin works. I wish I knew what he was thinking when I took this today.

Did I mention he is lucky he is cute?

This is why he gets away with so much and has mommy wrapped around his little finger....



Good thing the internet doesn't smell. That blanket that he chews on just stinks.

Does anyone else think this is gross?

A couple of months ago, Ethan's preschool had a fundraiser in which we had to sell cookie dough. Rather than spend all my time pawning it off on coworkers and friends (aside from those who I KNEW would order some) I figured that I would just buy enough to fill my selling quota (which really wasn't that much). The cookie dough came in lots of flavours, and instead of having it all in a big tub, you can opt to get one ounce pre-formed cookies that you just pop in the oven. How hard can that be? Judging from the tally of what is left in the freezer, and the 12 or so cookies I have baked in the last month, it would appear that it is a HUGE challenge for me to take them out of the freezer and put them on the baking pan without taking a shortcut to my mouth. It seems to me that I have only done this a few times, but when I reached in the the freezer this morning for a once ounce piece of frozen, raw cookie dough heaven, I realized that I have eaten about 30 of the damned things without baking them first.

My husband thinks I am nuts. When he busted me the other day sneaking into the freezer he told me that he thought it was totally gross to eat cookie dough. I told him I thought he was nuts - everyone loves it. Am I right?

O.L.D.

Today I am officially in my mid thirties. I remember years ago thinking that was really, really old. Now that forty is the new twenty, maybe it isn't so bad.

My dad has always had a knack for writing prose, and this is what I got in my birthday card today. I love it.

We feel proud to see that you did survive
To reach the age of thirty and five
And in those years you've accomplished lots
Not the least of which is your two little tots.

From out of school with a big degree
Then back to school at BCIT
Where you learned to become a safety geek
And then develop your own technique.

During that time you met your man Ken
Who made you feel like a silly brood hen
He gave you a ring in a little blue pouch
Which you later misplaced in the back of the couch

Over the years you had Ethan and Nicky
And held down your job which was really tricky
You learned how to mother without a degree
You and Ken became members of the bourgeoisie

Between work and your studies and of course music class
You've had not time to sit on your ass
Just enough time to take photos of course
And get Ken off to dragon boating to prevent a divorce.

Our advice to you dear as you reach thirty five
Is to take time for yourself, to keep you alive
Keep fit and keep smiling should be two of your tricks
A surefire recipie to reach thirty six.

Girls vs. Boys

My boys for the most part are pretty good. But, well...they are BOYS. They love cars, dirt, making a mess and are generally noisy. My girlfriends that have little girls tell me that their daughters also love all these things, and that they too can be equally as loud (I have yet to witness this though).

On Christmas day, we all went to my parent's house. My cousin and his wife were there with their little girl, and I am sure she thought all hell had broken loose and then some when we got there with our sugar filled, sleep deprived, all hyped up on presents kids. While my boys tore up the house, she just stood watching, not quite knowing what to make of it all.




So today in an attempt to "calm" my children I thought I would try getting the boys to try something different - sitting down at the table and colouring (Nicholas) and painting (Ethan). Actually, Ethan loves to paint, but he doesn't do it too much because it takes me about 10 minutes to get it all together, and about two seconds for him to slap something down on paper and say "I'm all done".

This is what resulted when I let Nicky colour...




Check out the teeth marks...



And this is an Ethan work of art that was completed in about two seconds...

Amazing what gets done when you should be studying for an exam...

When I was in University many years ago, I perfected the art of procrastination. I was great at getting stuff done, it just all got done nanoseconds before it had to be handed in. I always marveled at how sparkling clean my house was around exam time, the new gourmet dishes that I came up with because I would spend ages in the kitchen, and how many hair-do's I could come up with so that I wouldn't have to wear a ball cap to all my classes.

A few months ago, In a state of complete and utter stupidity, I signed up for a project management course. One of my girlfriends was stunned - "What the hell are you taking a project management course for? You work, you study, you have kids, if that isn't progect management, I don't know what the hell is. If you fail that will be really, really embarassing."

So now that I should be studying for this exam which is in a week, I am of course procrastinating, and my idea of "procrastination" is getting some laundry done, and trying for the millionth time to find my wedding band that I lost in the couch two years ago. Since I didn't feel like doing laundry the other night, I thought I would have another hunt for the wedding band...

Here's the scoop - almost two years ago, on my birthday, I lost my wedding ring. I was seven months preggo with Nicholas, and to this day, I am gobsmacked at how it was possible for the ring to FALL OFF MY FINGER when the rest of me was bloated to double my normal size (sadly, almost two years after the birth, my normal size is still well and truly hiding somewhere). I was sitting on the couch, lamenting the fact that it had been a horrible birthday and how could it possibly ever get worse. Yeah, did I mention I have a big mouth?

The thing I remember most about that day was that I spent a good portion of it in the emergency room with Ethan. We were in music class, and his teacher was holding his hand trying to get him to "hop". As she yanked up, she dislocated his elbow. I took him to our family doctor who told me to go to the ER and get it x-rayed. "Don't worry" she said, I'll phone ahead and you will be taken care of right away. That was music to my seven-month-pregnant self's ears.

As I found out later it is a really common injury, so common in fact that many doctors will just pop the elbow right back in while the child is in the waiting room. Alas, we got the full meal deal that day, because we had to wait four hours to see the doctor. Now I understand an 18 month old in the ER with a simple elbow out of joint is so not a priority, but hell, it took him about two seconds to pop that sucker back in. He was shocked that the family doctor didn't do it and that she sent me all the way to the hospital. Oh it was a long, long day.

The couch that I lost the ring in is a nice one. Too nice to just tear apart, but not quite nice enough that I could get away with strategically slicing it in a few placed for a good hunt around. So I turned the couch over, poked and prodded, and then lifted up the end...and I heard a "clink". On the hardwood floor. OMG there was the ring. Amazing. An early 35th birthday present to me.

Now I have to hit the books...again.

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....