EvieG is growing. She is putting back the food like a teenage boy. I often wonder if my grocery bills are going to put me into debt. She also complains that her legs hurt. This definitely tells me that she is going through a growth spurt and is having growing pains. Only Kirk Cameron is not part of this show.

Yesterday, EvieG went to play with some friends for the afternoon. I dropped her off at 11:30. She was invited for lunch and good girl play time. I told my girlfriend that I would be back after the other Wee Ladies got up from their naps. They slept and slept. I think they are all having summer growth spurts. I know The Destroyer is working on her eye teeth. She is a real barrel of laughs right now.

I was back to pick EvieG up at 3:30. I hung out with my girlfriend for a few minutes and this is what she had to tell me....

For lunch EvieG ate 3 hot dogs, a bowl of mac and cheese, milk (which she never drinks, but she drank it through some kind of flavoured straw), and for dessert, 1 1/2 cupcakes. My jaw dropped. I laughed out loud. Where did she put it all? And the thing is, my friend wasn't sure if EvieG normally eats that much. Or was it that she was digging the octopus hot dog (yes, she cuts the hot dog to have octopus legs...she is so crafty. I would never think of that)? It wasn't like she was binging on stuff she never gets because she eats cake here. She drinks chocolate milk once in a while and we have mac and cheese all the time.

My girlfriend was amazed at how much food EvieG packed back. Between you and me, I think she was afraid EvieG was going to hurl all over her broadloom. I would be a little hesitant to give the kid more to eat too. You never know, right? She cut EvieG off after the extra half a cupcake one of the other little girls gave her because she couldn't even finish one whole one. Not my daughter! Like her mother, she will eat everyone's left overs.

Can you see EvieG on her first date? The nice boy will come and take EvieG for dinner only to find himself in shock because sweet, little EvieG just points at him with her fork and asks with a mouth full of food, "You gonna eat your fries?" And like her mother did to a friend in the dining hall at university, she will notice that he didn't touch his scoop of cole slaw. While chewing on his last fry, she will inquire, "So what's the verdict on the slaw?" And all he will do is push his plate over to her in silence.

She never lets good food or money go to waste.

Such a well mannered child.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS I have added the first product to the Great Ideas section. Take a look!

Labels: EvieG

I am in the middle of downloading photos from a disc. The pictures date back to 2002. Before kids. I have decided to get my act together when it comes to picture organization.

I got a few pictures framed professionally. After 5 months of taking their sweet time, they called last week to tell me they were ready to be picked up. There are 2 out of 5 up on the wall. I am getting there.

I updated the first year disc for both Spark Plug and The Destroyer. So now I can take those discs to the printers and have my babysitter put their books together for me. She loves scrapbooking. I don't care for it. So she is going to make the albums for me and I will do the writing part.

I have also decided to create files by the year. And then I will burn those files onto a disc and get the pictures printed. I am going to put them into photo albums so that the Wee Ladies can look through them.

Kids love looking at pictures. And I have been very lazy in that department. So it is time I get them all organized and printed in hard copy for the Wee Ladies to enjoy.

As I write this, I am currently at the 2127th picture out of 3965. It has taken most of the afternoon. But once I have all these pictures on the hard drive again, I will pick and choose which one will make the cut into a photo album.

A friend of mine organizes hers by season. I think that is a good idea. Then I can keep track of the timeline better that way.

I made an appointment today to get pictures taken of the Wee Ladies. The Destroyer is 15 months now and hasn't had her picture taken by a photographer since she was 6 months old. She is still a year old. I can still write 1 Year on the back of the pictures. Later on, I just won't let on that I was 3 months late in getting her to the photo studio.

EvieG had pictures taken at 2 weeks, one month, 2 months, 4 months, 6 months, 9 months, 12 months, 18 months, and then at the year mark from there on in. Spark Plug was a little less. She had hers done at 6 months, a year, and 18 months. I had some done at Sears when she was 4 months to keep in line with EvieG's, but they were crap, so I never kept them. And then I got off track. Poor Destroyer has had one set done at 6 months.

I always said I would do the same thing with all 3 girls. It never happened. Sometimes I feel guilty, and other times I think that, hey, I will get there when I get there. We have taken lots of photos of her. She is just not as ruffled and frou frou as she might be in a studio photo. Ah, she is more rough and tumble any way. She doesn't suit sitting with a stuffed teddy bear and tulle in a floral dress...

Hopefully we will get at least one decent shot of the 3 of them looking in the same direction at the next photo shoot.

But I think having all 3 smiling at the camera at the same time is a long shot.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS I have changed Who's DDM? I am always changing, as my hormones dictate. I am going to write a new Who's DDM? every month to reflect my life at that time. So check it out.

PPS I am now at 2800 pictures. Only a thousand or so more to go!

Labels: DDM, EvieG, Guilt, Spark Plug, The Destroyer

I am preparing for our family vacation. Every year we head to Northern Ontario where the air is clean and our closest neighbour is the black bear. We leave this weekend for a week in the sticks and I am taking all necessary precautions when it comes to bear safety.

Last year, we knew that bear sightings were frequent. The wild blueberry crop was crap and so they were wandering around looking for food. We like to hike and run through the woods, so I stocked up on bear whistles, bear bells, and I got an air horn. We also had walkie talkies so we could keep in touch if we were separated. I didn't actually think we would need to use all of this paraphernalia. I was wrong.

The first night we were there Hubby took EvieG for a walk. A family on the property next to us left and improperly disposed of their garbage. They dumped everything into the bin at the end of the driveway when they should have taken it to the dump. Hubby turned the corner only to be greeted by a cub who was feasting in the garbage bin. He grabbed EvieG and quickly came back to the cabin. We called 911 who put us in touch with the Ministry of Natural Resources who told me to keep all food inside so not to attract the hungry bears. DUH..... There was nothing they could do because there was already a trap set on the other side of the lake. I was told to keep them posted if we saw the cub again.

Then Hubby went for a run around the lake a couple days later. It was dinner hour. As he was passing by a cottage BBQ, he was stopped as a big Papa bear sauntered out from the thicket on his way for a steak. No warning, no bear spray. Hubby made lots of noise to scare him off. The bear stopped, stared at him, stuck his nose in the air, and kept moving towards his steak.

This year I decided that the whistle, bells, and air horn are not enough, especially if the bears are not reacting to human presence. So I went to our local hunting shop to see about getting some bear mace.

I walked into a store that was floor to ceiling in outdoor hunting gear. Just like hunters wear flourescent protective gear, the price stickers were a bright orange. You couldn't miss them. I was greeted by the owner who is in his 70's and has been in the business for decades. He was short, with a surprisingly smooth and clear complexion. His hair was silver-gray and was slicked back all old-man-like. He smelled like he had just had a fresh shave at the barber shop.

My father was an avid hunter and gave this guy plenty of business over the years, so I introduced myself.

We talked about my dad and his dad before him. We discussed my family and then I told him what I was looking for. Here is how the conversation went down:

DDM: I am looking to buy some bear mace for our trip to the North. I've got little kids and I want to make sure we have what we need just in case we cross paths with one.

Old Man: Mace? Well, we don't call it mace. You mean bear spray?

DDM: Sure, bear spray.

Old Man: Oh, we have that. (Hands the can to me) But those bears can be pretty aggressive and you don't want to mess with them. I don't know if the spray would be enough. I can set you up with a real nice handgun. (pointing to the gun case)

DDM: (Nervously laughing) Oh, I don't think I need a handgun. The mace will be just fine. Thanks though.

Old Man: (Staring at me straight in the eyes) I walk downtown every morning at 6:00 am. I take my walking stick with me. Sometimes I think I should carry a handgun when I see some of the characters wandering around down there early in the morning.

DDM: Oh.......(Gazing in disbelief).

I left with my can of bear mace and my tail between my legs. But I am ready to take on any bear that comes my way. I am going to hike through the woods with my bear belt. A tool belt with a spot for all of my keep-the-bears-away-stuff. I wonder if there would be a holster on the belt?

Because I know where I can get a good handgun.

Along with my health card, drivers licence, and social insurance number, I can be a mother of three with a registered handgun in her name.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Hubby

Spark Plug has a new nickname. The Flying Squirrel. She is obsessed with leaping all super hero like between furniture. What's way more fun for her is doing the Flying Squirrel onto her mother and father. And EvieG has fallen victim to this too.

Spark Plug usually gets tired and cranky around 7:00 pm. She needs to 'regroup' as Hubby and I say. We bath the Wee Ladies and get them ready for bed. We cuddle in our bed and watch some TV. Then around 7:30 pm, she gets her second wind.

Every evening our bed turns into a night at the WWE. The Wee Ladies jump, pummel, pile drive, and squash each other and their parents. Sometimes we are active participants and Hubby throws them and flips them into the pillows. They get back up for more shouting, "Again, again!"

As I lay and try to cuddle with them, Spark Plug prances circles around the bed. And then she looks at me with devious eyes, throws her arms back and lunges forward. Like a flying squirrel her arms are out in front of her, her hair flattened against the wind, and her cheeks full from laughing, as she belly flops onto my stomach. It is a full wrestling move that Rowdy Roddy Piper would be proud of. And one that has been used in wrestling for decades.

She does the Flying Squirrel on me repeatedly until she has me pinned underneath her. We count, "One, two, three, four! Match over!" I have lost to my 2 year old.

In the re-match, I pull out my moves. I trip her by the ankles, pin her down and give her Zerburts on her tummy until she can't take it any more. I also give her Charlie Horses all over her legs while yelling, "Say uncle! Say uncle!" Finally, it takes all of her toddler power to mumble, "Uncle!" through her laughing fit as she is trying to catch her breath, at which time I stop. I then calm her down with an eye kiss, where I blink on her cheek.

Hubby is not always a fan of our family WWE matches. Especially if he falls victim to the Flying Squirrel. Most often, it is too late for him to maneuver his way out of the pummeling. All he sees is Spark Plug in mid-air, heading towards him without warning.....and then......OOOOWWWWWCCCCHHHH! Right in the man-bits. Square on. I feel for him. I obviously can't identify with this level of pain. I am sure it hurts. So he rolls over onto his side and I laughingly holler, "One, two, three, four! Match over!" He eventually comes around. During this healing time, Spark Plug has already moved on, and is back to flattening her mother.

Hubby also gets his chest hair pulled out by the handful. After he is jumped on, they seem to grab a fistful as they try to get themselves up and ready for another round. So along with his injured man-bits, he gets a chest wax at the same time.

This evening ritual is something we look forward to. We laugh so hard at the Wee Ladies as they get physical. Their eyes light up, they giggle, and they get tough. And they always come back for more.

And I always encourage the Flying Squirrel. Hubby just needs to be prepared.

We love this time with them. Injured and bruised bits and all.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Family, Fun, Hubby, Spark Plug

I moved the carbon monoxide detector from the kitchen counter to the top of the fridge. That's one less thing off my culinary surface area. And so we are on the final installment of the mini series. Today I write and leave this theme with the mire state of The Guzzler. Our frosty blue MINI-VAN that costs me my life savings to fill up. Two friends of mine and I took our kids to the beach this morning and I looked around the van. All I could do was cringe.

There are things in the van that seem to be permanent fixtures. Like Gremlins, no matter how many times I get rid of these items, another one miraculously appears.

Exhibit A: The Children's Section (Like its Their Mess)
We could play a fun and challenging game of Eye Spy an Empty Plastic Water Bottle. Be careful, don't let your eyes trick you. It's there among all of the other objects situated whose sole purpose is to distract you. See it? Right there to the left and slightly under the fuschia floral beach bag with the suntan lotion falling out, and slightly on top of the DOOR HANGER EvieG made for her bedroom. Why is that even in the van? I am still asking that myself. The other empty plastic water bottle is poking its head out of the top of my purse, which is forever in a state of squalor all on its own.

Beside my purse is one of Hubby's sweatshirts for those cold and romantic evening strolls along the beach that never happen. There are 2 sets of baby blue Crocs. One in a size 10 and the other in a size 3. And the van wouldn't be complete if there wasn't the trusty, empty box of Timbits. This is my old faithful. You can bet your sore right hip that you will ALWAYS be able to find a Tim Horton's box in our vehicle.

Exhibit B: Further into the Depths of The Guzzler
Behind the beach bag, it becomes evident what exactly is covering the what-used-to-be-blue-carpet. It is a fairly thick layer of sand. And this is not from today. It has been there for a while now. I am going to guess about 2 weeks. There is an empty yellow plastic kids sippy cup among the Crocs. There is another blue sippy cup on the seat with a sticky, eaten sucker stick glued to it, but you can't see it. The doll is laying on top of the sand yelling at me to free her from the grip of nastiness which surrounds her. She begs for mercy. She cannot be left among the rotting Timbits as the heat bursts the mercury at over 100 degrees Fahrenheit.

Exhibit C: The Grand Finale
And so I wondered what it was that was jabbing me in the back from behind the driver's seat. I looked and realized that it was none other than A-SECOND-CIRCA-1988-AAA-ROAD-ATLAS! Only unlike the first Road Atlas I wrote about in Part I, this one has its front cover intact. Who is the Road Atlas Fairy placing these throughout my home and van? I would surely like to know. For all of the traveling we don't do throughout this wonderful continent (it includes a map of Mexico), I think that it would probably be better and wiser if I carried an extra blanket and emergency kit, with flares, a jack, and extra water, as opposed to empty water bottles.

I think that no matter how hard I try to stay one step ahead of the squalor, I am always going to be two behind. With the Wee Ladies requiring so much of my attention, I find I can only get the bare essentials accomplished. I have days where I feel as though I am never going to get ahead and that my life will forever be one of damage control. Because that is all that I can seem to get done.

I will eventually get around to it. So I may rant about my state of squalor, but eventually it all gets done. Complete squalor elimination is simply not going to happen, but it might improve slightly if I devote a block of time to de-cluttering. Shall we bet on it?

I guess I should take the vacuum from its friends fine crystal and clean up the sand in the van. The last thing I need is for the Wee Ladies to add to the squalor by dragging a bit of Lake Erie into the house.

I'll do that right after I get back from my trip that was planned using the circa 1988 AAA Road Atlas.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Thanks for reading. Have a fun weekend! I will be back on Monday, right after I attempt to partially de-squalorize the house and van.

Labels: Battle, Chores, DDM, Guilt, Responsibility

I cleaned up the mess that was our playroom/office, only to have The Destroyer pull most of it back onto the floor today, just as I predicted. And today I am writing the second part of the mini series about the squalor that we live in. The focus of this post is on our neglected culinary quarters. Our kitchen. And it is a vision of sheer filth.

Between the grime on the floor and the other surface areas is random junk placed unstrategically across the counters and on the fridge. Take a peek-

Exhibit A: The Ecosystem
Sitting on top of the film of sludge are some pretty useless knick-knacky things that have no solid purpose of even being there. The Leap Frog animal-match-game for one. The Wee Ladies don't even play with this. Correction- The Destroyer pulls the pieces from the fridge to the floor for me to step on and break a hip. There is also the Leap Frog phonics tool. Again, the kids put the letters in to get the their names and sounds. Most times, it is even debatable what is even said. To me it sounds like the voice in the box has had one too many cocktails and is having speech difficulty. There are some magnets, photos that are hidden under the drawing, car insurance that should be in the car's glove box, a shopping list pad that I never use, and wedding invitations. The invitations are the only things that should be on there, so I don't forget to show up.

The fridge is its own living creature. I swear it could breathe and exist on its own. There are many small organisms that give the fridge its life. The handle is sticky, the dust is thick on top but the phone books cover it, the light bulb inside hasn't been changed in 5 years, and things fall out when you open the freezer. And in the recent past I did witness the ecosystem living underneath. We had to plug in a new phone which required us to move the fridge out. We took one look at the sediment that had collected over the years, saw something move, and quickly moved the fridge back to its place without even daring to attempt to clean. We figure the next people who move in can clean it. Plus, I am sure we would need bio-hazard gear. And that is expensive.

I think there are several ecosystems who have inhabited various places in and around the fridge. Speaking of which, I better open that unlabeled container sitting at the back of the second shelf and see what it 'was'. I better remember to mask my face first. I don't want to inhale and unknown spores.

Exhibit B: Unsafety
This is my counter space to the left of the fridge. As you can see there is a variety of random items that have every right to inhabit my space. Placemats are leaning against the wall. Seems like a good spot. Why would anyone have placemats on a table? Then there are the knives. As you can see, there are some vacant spots. I hope my Wee Ladies haven't taken them. In front of the knives is half a child proof door handle. Obviously there is a door that is not safetied properly. The Wee Ladies now have VIP passes to the toilet water until I find the other half. There is my water bottle, empty oil and vinegar jars, a measuring cup, a plastic plate from the toy kitchen (we are big on proper portion sizes), and the most necessary item of all. The carbon monoxide detector. On-the-kitchen-counter. So if we don't wake up in the morning, you'll know that it was because we didn't hear the beep.

The dish towel is my dish rack. At least I am caught up in that department. Oh, I lied. The pile is to the left, in the sink.

Exhibit C: The Butter Dish and More
This is the counter space to the left of the sink. As you can see, I am avoiding even showing you the sink. We have dirty cloths in an unsanitary pile, an empty paper towel holder (Note to self: put the role in the recycling), an empty, but clean, juice container, a dish of soothers and syringes for Children's Tylenol, the bread/salt and pepper/butter/unused Bodum/unused mortar and pestle/cookie-jar-that-I-hide-from-myself cupboard, and the well-used pound of butter. It's corn season. There is a splattering of butter on the unwiped surface. There is a picture behind the soother dish of EvieG and Spark Plug from 2 years ago, facing backwards. The one useful thing? The box of anti-viral Kleenex. But I guess with the state of squalor of this room, it's all null and void anyway.

The floor in the kitchen is constantly in a state of filth. It's one of those floors with the grooves in it, so the dirt gets in there like it does under your finger nails. And the only way it comes out is with a decent scrubbing. Our floor is like the kid in class who never bathes- dirty nails and waxy ears all the time.

Like the bear is to the salmon run, the house flies are to my kitchen. And right now it's a free for all for the flies. I keep the fly swatter on top of the microwave. There are several things you can be GUARANTEED to find on our kitchen floor:

- spills of all sorts
- juice splats
- crumbs
- dirt from outside
- pieces from the fridge
- shoes
- hardened, or overripe Cheerios and KD
- flies
- grass
- the occasional ant coming to get in on the goods
- fruit residue

We can pretty much declare a state of emergency in our kitchen. We can tape it off for the germ experts from Dateline to come in and do a swab test to find out our levels of bacteria. I am sure that besides salmonella and e. coli, they might even find a new and even more vicious bacteria that has yet to be catalogued.

I vacuum so often to ward of illness that I don't even put the vacuum away after I'm done. I just house it in the dining room along with my fine crystal.

I have no rhyme or reason why my culinary quarters are in this condition. Other than the obvious fact that my time is consumed with the Wee Ladies. I try to keep things clean and organized, but I guess that is why we have our Wee Westie Basil and a cleaning lady who comes once every fortnight.

If we didn't have that, then our house would for sure be condemned.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Come back tomorrow for the final installment of our mini-series.

Labels: Battle, Chores, DDM, Guilt, Responsibility

Here is some info about the local MRI fundraising mission for the Chatham-Kent Health Alliance.

The CK Homebuilders are planning a massive fundraising event in support of the MRI-Making the Right Investment Campaign. They will be building an 1800 square foot house in just 3 days!

A launch party is going to take place Friday, August 15, and here is a commercial all about it.

Labels: Announcements

I am feeling like we have reached new heights in our current state of homeland squalor. And so I am writing the first of a 3 part mini series about the filth that I inhabit along with the Wee Ladies and Hubby. Part I exposes the state of our office/playroom/pit/junkyard/place-where-mom-is-supposed-to-pick-up-toys/billing centre/blogging haven.

Squalor can be described in several ways, according to Roget. This pretty much sums up my life right now.

Labels: Battle, Chores, DDM, Guilt, Responsibility

Mamacita is a Dress Down Mom. She visits the site regularly and I always love to read her comment contributions. We went to high school together. She now lives an expat life with her husband and twin boys. She is in Canada for several weeks and is visiting her in-laws who live close to us. We had the chance to see each other, catch up, and the kids got to hang out. She saw how I and the Wee Ladies function first hand. Operation DDM. And I got to see Operation Mamcita. It was wonderful. And we had a good chat about parental diversity.

It is always interesting to hear about the lives of other moms. I enjoy hearing how other households operate and in Mamacita's case, how she lives in another country with twin babies. She and I are on the same page when it comes to our Dress Down ways. We take things in stride and find it astonishing how easy it can be to fall into a certain parenting/mommy groove depending on where you are and who the other moms are around you.

Like if you are a mom who lives in a place where all the other moms have their kids immersed in a million different activities. It is very easy to feel like an unconcerned parent in this environment if you don't have your kids doing the same things.

A conversation might look something like this....and I have experienced this myself outside of our town, in a place where moms can be a bit competitive....

Mom: So what activities do you have EvieG in?

DDM: Well, she dances once a week.

Mom: Is that it?

DDM: Sometimes she is in swimming lessons. She did skate for one session.

Mom: Well, what about the summer? Is she going to be in any day camps or sports?

DDM: No. She plays with friends occasionally and her sisters. We are busy enough going here and there. Plus, we don't want to be tied down and committed to all these activities. And she is only 5. She has lots of time for organized activities.

Mom: Oh.

Awkward pause.

I have to admit-I have had moments where I have felt that I am not doing enough for my kids. That I need to stimulate them more by having them involved in more things. And then I give my head a shake and remember that I personally would rather have them play and explore freely together. I would rather take them to the beach than having them at a day camp that keeps them at the park all day. That's my choice though. It is easy to feel the pressure from other moms who are shaping their future scholarly well-rounded individuals by involving them in various activities.

I also find the whole nanny thing interesting too. At what point does one need a nanny? Is it that they need one because of an outside job? Or because it takes the pressure off in terms of taking care of the children alone? How could having another pair of hands not take the pressure off?

I have heard of moms who have nannies 4 days a week even when they are stay-at-home- moms. The moms do their own thing. They get together with other moms, go to the gym, shop, and get pampered. I don't really get this. But this is what I have heard. I think that if you were a mom without a nanny who was among other moms with nannies for reasons other than a job, I bet it would be hard to relate to.

I can't even imagine what I would do if I had a nanny for a few days a week.

And the moms who have this lifestyle obviously have some cash to spare. It takes cash to have a nanny and to have kids involved in all sorts of group activities. Those of us who do not have the expendable income make out jut fine keeping our kids with us at home and in a couple of things. Everything in moderation.

Let's not forget the moms who have to use daycares or nannies because they have outside employment. That is a necessity.

Every family has their own thing going. That's great. You do what works for you. I just find it amazing how differently people live and raise their kids. There is such diversity and there is nothing wrong with that. As long as the kids are healthy and happy, and mom has some time to herself every once in a while, then that's all that matters.

I had a great time with Mamacita and I can't wait to see her and her boys again. We had a couple of big hugs and she witnessed the Wee Ladies at their sparkiest and The Guzzler in its usual state of chaos. I went to put the stroller in the back and a stale chocolate Timbit rolled into our hands. We had a good laugh about what is this Dress Down Mom's life.

I then went on a quest across the city for a Starbucks Skinny Mocha Latte. With sleeping Ladies, what was another few minutes of traffic? I finally tracked it down using my internal GPS. After learning that my Mocha Latte has been discontinued, I tried the Vanilla Latte instead.

I adapted and tried something new. A little variety in the ways of coffee never hurt anyone.

Just like variety in mommyhood never hurt anyone. Hearing about other ways of mommying is always a learning experience.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM

The TCT was on duty Saturday night. We were fully equipped. Complete in uniform. We worked collaboratively. Well, not really. Hubby was the TCT of 1. I slept. I helped out later that night.

We had a humdinger of a thunderstorm. It lasted for what seems like a long time too. The distant sound of rolling thunder. The sheet lightning. We knew it was coming closer because our 1 steamboat, 2 steamboat counting became less and less as the storm moved in and pelted us with its rain, light, and noise volume.

The Wee Ladies couldn't hear the oncoming storm. Their ears were being filled with the chirps and chatter of rainforest creatures from their noise machine. Or maybe they chose the serenity of a cool, crisp mountain stream that night. I won't even dare to try the thunderstorm option. If Spark Plug catches any thunder type noise, she freaks out.

Once we were engulfed in the storm, the TCT heard the piercing squeals coming from the bedroom of EvieG and Spark Plug. And they were squawking in unison. Crap. Here we go.....a night of interrupted rest. Now that I have my sleep back, and I am experiencing a complete 8 hours, I get annoyed when I am disturbed. Especially if I am in the middle of a great dream.

The cries for comfort came from within the walls of their room and Hubby got up to deal with them. I was absolutely no help. I moaned and rolled over.

The next thing I knew, I saw the silhouette of a three headed monster heading in my general direction. Was it an intruder? Or just Hubby carrying the Wee Ladies to our bed who were in dire need of serious solace. I knew what this meant. It meant the next 5 hours of rest were going to be that of discomfort and unrest. Guaranteed. I wasn't going to let this happen. I was going to take a stand. A stand against the TCT of 1.

And then I went back to sleep.

It is amazing to me how 2 little people can manage to hog a King size bed in its entirety. They sleep on a diagonal. And they manage to make their presence known and understood even when they are asleep. They are always touching you, kicking you, or breathing on you. There were 4 in the bed and they all rolled over until 2 fell out. This is the thanks the TCT gets.

The storm was around 2:00 am. I jolted awake around 4:00 am. I was starting to fall off the side of the bed. My back was cramped because I had no where to turn. I couldn't even move an inch. I got out of bed and looked down on to the 2 soundly sleeping Wee Ladies. I thought to myself, There is no way. This is bulls*#t.

The TCT consoles. That is our job....except I was on holiday for this particular storm....But the TCT does not give up their sleeping rights. That's not part of the job description. I looked over to Hubby. I didn't see him. Was he in the bathroom? Then I remembered. I had a vague recollection of him getting up and heading downstairs. I went down the hall and peered down to the living room. There was Hubby, on the couch. And if you know Hubby, you definitely know that he will not sleep on the couch.

That was it. There was no way I was letting 2 children, ages 5 and 2, take over our whole bed. Imagine! Booting the TCT out on their butts like that. So I protested.

I picked up Spark Plug and carried her to their room. I put her back into her sleeping area. Spark Plug does not sleep in her bed. Right now she is going through a phase and has set up camp behind the door. She has her pillow, blankets, and stuffed animals all there. It is quite a little nest she has going.

Then I went back and picked up EvieG. I put her back into her bed and told her to go lay down and go back to sleep.

As I headed back towards our room, I stopped at the top of the stairs. I informed Hubby that the bed was open again. He made his way back up and in to bed. I asked, "Why didn't you just put them back before?" To which he sweetly replied, "Because I was trying to be a good Dad." I thought how sweet that was, and retorted with, "You are a good Dad. Does it make you a bad Dad if you want some sleep? Comfortably in your own bed? I guess I am a bad mom because I shipped them out! Oh well. I'm over it."

I looked at the clock and calculated that I had another 3 hours of solid sleeping.

TCT mission complete.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Hubby

Since this whole pregnancy thing happened, my body has creaks and pains like I'm all SC (senior citizen). The weight gain combined with holding a 5 to 10 pound load for several months THREE TIMES has wreaked havoc on my hip area. And now I suffer from SI Joint pain. And it is seriously irritating.

Every 2 to 3 months I will wake up one morning all stiff and sore. I twist and stretch and turn and hold onto my Lombard area while wincing in pain. I get out of bed slowly, like I am 80 years old. One leg at a time, I dangle them off the side of the bed, and slowly slide down the edge of the mattress, trying to avoid major impact upon reaching the floor. I walk to the bathroom holding my lower back, like I am one step away from giving birth again. But I am not. I am just suffering from post-pregnancy-sorry-about-your-luck-and-it-will-never-be-the-same-body-ever-again-syndrome.

I carry on with my usual mommy duties and ignore this problem. For about a week. Once I get going in the morning, it usually stretches out and the pain dissipates. I do my normal workouts of lifting and carrying The Destroyer and sometimes Spark Plug. I still work out too. And then it gets to the point of where I can no longer take the seriously irritating SI Joint sting. I call the chiropractor.

I go in and get my hips readjusted. And every time I bitch about how I am falling apart at the seams and demand to know why this is happening to me. What happened? I consider myself to be quite fit. I mean chasing after 3 Wee Ladies in my mind, is enough to keep anyone fit. So what's the deal?

The lovely chiropractor explained that the pregnant body releases some kind of relaxation hormone. Everything just chills in order to prepare for the large watermelon that is to emerge. The ligaments stretch to prepare for birth and to accommodate the growing fruit within. The worst part? It never goes back. Crap. And so I suffer from seriously irritating mis-alignment every couple of months. My pelvis has to be put in its place.

Other post-pregnancy ailments? Small boobs. It's true. Mine shrunk. I can now call myself 2 fried eggs on a board. I thought that at least my temporarily larger breasts might stay to some degree. But no such luck. I should probably be wearing a training bra. At least it might give me some decent cleavage.

I also suffer from a minor hormonal imbalance during the month. I know my hormones are speaking when I go out and buy a tub of Rolo ice cream only to have it polished off entirely 2 days before my period strikes with a vengeance. And I get seriously irritated. I took Tom Cruise's advice and I try and talk my way through the bouts of depression. I convince myself that I can control this. And then I weep. I weep at how stupid and SI Tom Cruise is. Maybe I should show up at his Teluride home with a tub of Rolo ice cream and talk about it.

And so I deal with these seriously irritating post-pregnancy plights.

At least I don't pee my pants anymore every time I sneeze, cough, or laugh.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Thanks for reading and have a fun weekend! I will be back on Monday!

Labels: DDM

EvieG is 5 years old today. I can't believe it. 5 years have gone by so incredibly fast. When we got up this morning I asked, "What would you like to do for your birthday today?" She replied excitedly, "Go out to the lake!" So we did. My in-laws live on Lake Erie. We got packed up and headed out for some beach fun. I couldn't get out to the lake without a coffee first.

If we head out to the lake in the morning, I sometimes stop to get a coffee for my MIL too. Cousin Jenny is visiting so I added another coffee to the list. And with it being EvieG's birthday and all, I felt it absolutely necessary to buy the Wee Ladies some Tim Horton's Timbits.

I checked my wallet for money. Nothing. Just spare change. I checked all the places in the house where Hubby unloads his pockets. I got about $1.35. I sniffed out the extra change container. No loonies or toonies today. Hubby got there before me. Pockets? Zero.

And so here is where my moral compass changed direction and pointed me the wrong way. EvieG has a money bank. Yes, a bright pink piggy bank. With lots of spare change. So I went and picked it up. I shook it. Just like you shake a present on Christmas morning. I pulled the bottom cover off which is the size of a toonie (about an inch in diameter for our American readers). I placed my eye over the hole and tried to get a look at what was in there. I then stuck my index finger in and felt around. The same way I used to stick my fingers in the candy machines at the arena hoping a Bazooka Joe gum would miraculously fall into my hands. And just like I used to stick my fingers into the pay phone, hoping that I would be the one to catch the landslide of quarters that would fall out. Yes, I was behaving like a 5 year old. But there was a good reason!

I needed quick cash. And I have every intention of replacing it. Honestly, I do. This act of immorality was also one of efficiency. We needed to get to the lake before it got too hot. And my bank is on the other side of town. I didn't want to stop at a bank machine to take out cash and then be charged an extra $3.00 because I opted to use another bank. This was a much easier solution.

Once we got to the lake, I realized I had forgotten Spark Plug's shoes. And EvieG's swimsuit. Bright move on my part, I know. My MIL got her a t-shirt to wear. Problem solved. The shoes weren't a big deal either. At least I remembered the coffee.

The adults were all appropriately caffeinated. We have to be when dealing with the Wee Ladies. We went to the beach and they played in the water and on the sand. EvieG practiced swimming to shore, Spark Plug ran along the shore, and The Destroyer ate sand and picked up anything that looked remotely dead and shriveled. They decided to call it quits after about a half hour and we went for lunch.

The great part about having a birthday mid-week is that you get 2 celebrations. We had EvieG's party on Sunday, but she got to have another mini-party today. She got to do whatever she wanted and there was cake at the end. With candles and another bout of the birthday song. We are going to friends for dinner tonight, so she might even be lucky enough to get a third party. It's been a good day for her. Timbits, cake, and ice cream. She just doesn't know that her mother used her allowance money to buy the Timbits.

So I owe EvieG money. I owe my 5 year old money. I took money from my child. I will have to remember to check Hubby's pockets and wallet when he gets home. She will never have to know.

I wonder how many times the Wee Ladies will hunt through my stuff looking for a stash of cash to buy junk with? They will try, but they will not find any. I can't even find any. That's why I turned to my daughter's piggy bank.

I forgot to check under the couch cushions. I bet Hubby got there first.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Guilt

Watching the Wee Ladies' Dance-A-Thon is pure entertainment. They love to dance and they will find a way to dance to anything. EvieG informed me that she was taking Spark Plug upstairs to dance. She knows where the boom box is from circa 1994, along with the music from about the same time, and even earlier.

Today I took The Destroyer up to check how their moves were working out for them. I walked into some serious groovin' to Def Leppard's Make Love Like A Man from their 1992 album, Adrenalize. And they were certainly adrenalizing.
I thought Thank god she doesn't know what they are saying. I heard the words gigolo and casanova and then did a rewind to 1984 when I used to dance and sing on my bed to Madonna's Like A Virgin. I had no clue what she was saying. And I was older. I was 8.

They were running all over the room, slamming into the walls, jumping, spinning on the spot, and rolling around on the floor. And then I had another Like A Virgin image in my head. They were rolling around like Madonna did at the MTV Video Awards back in 1984. They were doing it up 80's style.

Somehow EvieG has managed to find most of Hubby's classic rock/rock collection. And she knows exactly what music she wants to dance to. It is usually Def Leppard, Steve Miller, Stevie Ray Vaughn, or Van Halen. I don't know what it is about 1984, but their usual favourite dance tune is Jump by Van Halen from their album titled, 1984.
The moves they come up with when they hear rock music from way-back-when is astonishing. It's like it awakens something in them. Like their switch is turned on. Even The Destroyer is all over it. She waves her arms, bounces up and down, and spins around.

This dancing is the baby version of partying. They know that they can get a great rush from this music. And then a rush following the spin-on-the-spot. They get dizzy, stumble around until they trip over their feet and fall to the ground. I just hope this is not a glimpse into the future once they move to teenage partying.

Once they had enough of dancing, they moved to their 'guitar lessons'. They have a kid-sized guitar. EvieG sat on the floor with her sisters around her and she gently serenaded them. She made up some song about Bonjour, Au Revoir and in between those words I got nothing. It was gibberish to me. I don't even know if she was aware of her own lyrics.

I fast forwarded to teenage time. Just as she was sitting today with her sundress straps falling off her shoulder, I wondered if EvieG was going to be the girl leading the sing-a-long around the campfire. Only her lovely, smooth baby skin of today might be the inked, pierced complexion of tomorrow.

I am trying to think of other classic music they might like to try on for size. Whitesnake, Skid Row, Bon Jovi? Extreme?

Or maybe I should expose them to the Brit Pop I used to listen to. My boom box has a place for cassettes. I think I will go into the basement Rubbermaid containers and haul out my tape collection. We'll see what they do with a little Ned's Atomic Dustbin.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Watching the Wee Ladies make their own fun is priceless. I love that they are using their imaginations more and more. As the days go on, they play with each other more and are amusing themselves through creativity, but not without the occasional squabble.

I was howling today as Spark Plug spent about 15 minutes making a slide out of the couch cushions. She took them off the couch, laid one against the foot stool and slammed her body into it as high as she could go so she could slide down it. And laughing the whole time.

EvieG has been busy since 8:00 this morning. I am not kidding. She was up and out of bed before me. She got herself dressed and made her own breakfast. I asked, "What are you doing?" And she replied very matter-of-factly, "I am getting all ready to do my work." "What work?" I asked. As she was on her way down the stairs she firmly stated, "My princess poster, Mom." Oh, all right then....

It is 2:00 in the afternoon and the only break she has taken is for lunch. She has been diligently at work for about 5 hours now. And check out her masterpiece. This thing is like 2 feet by 3 feet.
This is something she received for her birthday. I am telling you....arts and crafts supplies are the best when looking for a way to keep them creatively entertained. This was something she needed to keep to herself though. No one was allowed to come remotely close with a colouring tool, or I heard about it, along with the rest of the neighbourhood.

The Wee Ladies are a lot more physical with each other now. They happily pummel one another regularly, sit on each other, ride on each other's backs like a horse, and hold hands. And when they don't feel like participating in the WWE sessions, they push away and directly inform their sisters that they are not in the mood. Even at 14 months, The Destroyer can hold her own.

Their interactive play is not always pleasant. There is sometimes a lot of squealing and pushing. But the fact that they are playing together and can make their own fun is what we like to see. We want them to learn to explore together, discuss things together, and question things together. We want them to communicate well with each other. I think it will only bring them closer as they get older. If they disagree, and they have many times already, then we mediate the fury. But we never let them walk away angry or go to bed without an "I'm sorry." That will only fuel the stubborn fire. Hubby and I have agreed that we will try and make sure that all riffs and spats will be sorted before too much time passes.

I think girls naturally have a hard time communicating and can hold grudges like nobody's business. We want to teach our Wee Ladies the importance of consistent and fair communication. We'll see how it all plays out. And we will deal with them one squabble at a time. Even if it's over the bucket of worms in the backyard. It all matters.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, Family, Responsibility

We had perfect weather for EvieG's 5th birthday party yesterday. It was our second attempt at the Wet 'N Wild Birthday Extravaganza. Last year we had overcast and weren't able to maximize our water fun time. This year it was all about the water fun.

We had several of Evie's closest friends here, along with their parents. We all sat in the backyard and the kids played with all sorts of water paraphernalia. We had the wading pool, the water balloons, the over sized beach ball that sprays water, the water rocket from Uncle Jeff, and Midget Bowling. Oh, and bubbles too.

The water rocket was a huge hit. The rocket sits upon its stand. Water spurts out in a strong stream forcing the rocket into the air. It hovers on the water stream and sprays all below. It's really cool. The other popular water area was Midget Bowling. This is a version of the Slip 'n Slide. There is the long smooth lane where the kids slide down into the pool of water at the end. They must try and knock down the flag at the end. We call it Midget Bowling because we often toss the kids (bowling ball, or midget) down so they run over the flag (the pin). It can be quite a thrilling game, with many twists and turns.

So the kids played and played. And we socialized and had a few cocktails.

EvieG loved having everyone here. And she was quite the hostess. She publicly thanked everyone for coming, which I was proud of. But she was a true hostess in that she had to change outfits about four times. I'm not kidding. She welcomed her friends in her bathing suit, of course. For the presents, pizza dinner, cake, and public thank you, she had to wear her special 'party' dress. This is a white sundress from Hubby. After that part of the program came to completion, she quietly disappeared and came out in her bathing suit for round two of water fun. Once she was done with that, she exited inconspicuously once again, reemerging a few minutes later in her pajamas and was holding her nighttime book. Was that a hint for her guests to hit the road? I'm not sure. With blood shot eyes from the chlorine, she looked at me and said, "Who's going to read me my bed time story?" Party animal, she clearly is not. We were laughing at all of her costume changes. I said it was like a Hollywood awards ceremony, like the Oscars. She had an outfit for the red carpet, an outfit for her speech, and an after-party outfit. She's just like Beyonce.

I have to say, I personally prepared in a way that was as 'Martha' as I will ever get. Check out this cake I made.
Yep, it is a chocolate cake in the shape of an ice cream cone. How crafty is that? I had every intention of pulling a full 'Martha' and making it from scratch, along with the icing. I made the cake Saturday night. But I was so tired I left it in the pan. Yesterday morning I went to put it on the serving plate and it came out in 3 separate chunks. Crap.

I went to the store and bought cake-in-a-box. It came out perfect. I did make the icing from scratch though. Just a crapload of butter and sugar, nothing else. Oh, wait. Whipping cream and a touch of vanilla. Heart attack by the spoonful. Sooooo goooood.

It worked out and I made cake cones for the kids, which they loved. Those were the cake from scratch because that was part of the first cake-making attempt.

Hubby cooked and we ordered pizza. The beverages and snacks were abundant. It was my kind of birthday party. None of this hiring a petting zoo, clown, rare animals owner, or whatever some people choose to do. It didn't take me a month to prepare. There was no cut and paste involved. Just the cake and balloons. At our house, you can always find a good old fashioned birthday party that is not too over the top.

Next year I think I will make the cake and put coins in it, just like we had when we were growing up. If I put in loonies and toonies, surely no one will choke on them, right?

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Family

Today I G.A.W.K. I am taking the train to Toronto for the night. I am meeting up with my roommates from university for a while, then meeting up with Hubby and someone he works with at the Blue Jays game.

I am excited to see the girls. Auntie Missy, who is a month away from giving birth, is picking me up at the train station. We are heading to Nenny With Twins' house where we will reunite with our fourth roommate, The Bone. Yes, this is what we call her. The name was created in order to capture her attention from across the bar one night back in 1996. She currently lives in the UK with her husband and baby son. We haven't been together for any substantial amount of time for years, so this is going to be hilarious.

These girls can make me guffaw until I feel physically ill. The Bone's sharp wit and sarcasm is like no other. I can't wait to see them.

I am looking forward to the train ride. I don't have to watch the road and I can sit and read in peace for a couple of hours. I will enjoy the quiet time....or so I say right now. I am sure my anxiety level will heighten as soon as I board the train.

I am excited for the baseball game too. I haven't been to a professional baseball game since high school. The Jays are playing the Yankees, so I get to see Madonna's alleged lover A-Rod in person!! I wonder if there will be any drama?

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS I will return on Monday. We have a jam (I made my second batch of sugar-filled goodness yesterday) packed weekend. It is the weekend of EvieG's Wet and Wild 5th Birthday Extravaganza. We are having a water party on Sunday.

PPS Have a fun weekend!

Labels: DDM, Guilt

Taking 3 Wee Ladies out anywhere is a risk. Taking them all to the library? Well, not so smart. I don't know why I thought that this would be a good 'outing.' The stress I just voluntarily walked myself into is like seeing the police speed trap ahead, only realizing that it is too late to slow down. The stress of the ticket and fine could have been avoided. Just like the trip to the library could have been avoided.

I knew the risk involved possible chaos. The library is a place of silence, order, and books. It is also a public place. I had potential disaster on multiple fronts. But I had rationale.

EvieG is independent enough to take care of herself. Spark Plug can follow simple directions. And I could hold The Destroyer. It would work out just fine. I didn't think we would 100% glitch-free, but I thought we could stay long enough to pick books and maybe do a craft without being tossed out onto the street by Security. We stayed for about 14 minutes (I know this based on my parking meter calculations). And we were one-hand-on-the-scruff-of-the-neck away from meeting the sidewalk.

The reason for this trip was because EvieG wanted to get her own library card. I am glad to see Arthur teaches something substantial. I thought, 'Wow! She is asking for her own card! Good for her!' I was all over it, like the good Personal Assistant that I am. She also has this deep fear of skunks. And really for no reason. It came out of nowhere. So I thought we would make her feel better by getting some non-fiction books about skunks in order for her to learn more about them. I strapped the Wee Ladies in The Guzzler and off we went.

We entered the library very well. We were quiet and stayed together. Once we entered the Kid's Room, the demons were unleashed. EvieG requested her card. The librarian looked at me and said, "Do you have a license or some ID?" She looked at my face whose expression read, 'Lady, are you nuts? Look at me! My bicep is already screaming because I am holding this lug-of-a-kid, I am trying to keep track of the toddler who is playing with the scissors at the craft table, and my 5 year old has proceeded to pick out an assortment of reading material to check out using HER NEW CARD! Do I look like a woman who has the third arm to carry her friggin' ID? Huh? DO I?' And then she rephrased, "Do you have your library card?" To which I said, "Yes, I do. And all of the information on there is the same." Poof! EvieG's library card was ready.

I put The Destroyer down because my bicep couldn't take any more. It had started spasming. Immediately she started running up and down the aisles of books, laughing and squealing, occasionally stopping to toss a few on the floor. As I was chasing her, Spark Plug decided to get in on this chase game and was running around too, making just as much noise. EvieG had sat herself at the craft table and began to colour. As I ran by, I asked her if she had asked the librarian for books on skunks. She and the librarian went to get her books.

Upon her return to the craft table another mom and her daughter had seated themselves. And in the chair EvieG had been sitting in. She went up to them and said, "Hey, that's my seat!" Time stopped right there. My eyes widened. My jaw dropped. My kid polite, easy going, 5 year old was lipping off to some nice mom and her cute little daughter. Oh my god. I said, "That's ok. You were off getting books and they can sit there if they want". She replied with, "But I was sitting there!" To which the mom said, "That's all right. We can move!" I jumped in with, "No, no, no. She can find another seat." The mom was adamant. "No, we will move over here." And they moved to the other side of the table. I pulled EvieG aside and tactfully scolded her. I hissed, "You apologize for being rude. You never speak to people like that! This is not your chair. It belongs to the library and you left it to go and find books." She felt badly. She then pleaded, "No! I don't want to say anything because I'm shy!" I told her, "You go and say sorry for being rude." So she did. And the mom thanked her. She was probably thinking, 'What a lippy, little girl!' That was what I was thinking and I'm her mother.

Spark Plug was playing with a puzzle. I found The Destroyer taking the DVD's off the rack. I scooped her up and noticed the stench coming from her bottom region. No diaper bag. Nothing extra. That was it. I had had enough and told EvieG to check out her books. We were done there. Time to go. I couldn't take anymore.

I swiped the craft from the craft table so we could do it at home. I gathered up the troops and exited the building quickly. Before Security could get a hold of me. I got them into the The Guzzler and let a sigh of relief. I saw there were 16 minutes left on the parking meter. I thought to myself, 'Well, we just reached our library quota for the month. That was 14 minutes too long.'

With the Wee Ladies, the library was temporarily altered. The silence was screeched out of the water. The order became messy. The books were pulled from the shelves and placed randomly throughout the room. And the public were there to witness this alteration.

I wonder what would happen if I took them somewhere like Home Depot? Would they try and play with the power tools? Would they play house in the mock-up kitchens? Would they get up on the counter and try to brush their teeth in the sink? Would they try and use the toilets? Should I dare?

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, DDM, Family

I have never canned anything in my life. I just eat the preserves of my Mom and MIL. This year, I decided to do something myself. We are strawberry freaks, so I decided I would make my first batch of strawberry jam.

I took the Wee Ladies to the strawberry patch. Luckily for me, a friend of mine came along with her daughters. This meant more eyes on the Wee Ladies. We got there, grabbed our baskets and went to work.

The girls picked randomly along the rows. I was slow and precise. My girlfriend is a strawberry picking machine. She was half a row ahead of me at all times. EvieG was also precise and when she brought me her basket, I noticed she had already picked off all the green stems. She presented them to me like they should have been on a plate with chocolate sauce dabbled across them. Cut and prepared. Ready to serve. Spark Plug spent most of the time trampling over the plants, picking berries, and then placing them in her basket only to remove them to her mouth. She left with an empty basket and a full tummy. The Destroyer picked up the mushed berries from in between the rows and ate them. She left with dirty fingers, a dirty face, a full tummy, and a possible illness. She came out unscathed.
We took them home and I put the flat on the counter. I stared at it for a day, deciding if in fact I was really going to tackle this whole jam-thing. I went out and bought the jars. I then needed the Pectin crystals. I was looking at the options. There was the regular Certo, the Certo Light, and the new No Sugar Needed Certo. Hmmmmmm......The regular is like spreading several cavities on your toast. The light is, well, a couple of cavities, and the no sugar version is a little added unsweetened apple juice. That was probably the best choice for the kids. The healthiest choice by far.
I got up Saturday morning all hell-bent on making the best batch of jam ever. Better than Grandma's. And I had this new, healthy way of doing it too. No extra sugar needed. Jam's best kept secret that no on knew about, except me.

I washed the berries and took the stems off. I heated the jars and lids. I squashed the berries and measured them according to the recipe. I added the juice and the crystals. I cooked them for 3 minutes and stirred until all was dissolved. I ladled the jam into the jars and sealed them. I labeled the lids and waited for them to 'pop' to tell me I was better than Grandma. I proudly displayed the jars full of healthy red goodness for all to see. I let it sit and settle for 24 hours.
During this process I had to deal with 2 hungry crying babies. I had to prepare lunch, stir, and ladle all at the same time. I was a stressed out, multi-tasking monster. There was jam everywhere, jars everywhere, and snot everywhere. And my whispies were fully flying.

What I forgot to do in this jam session was the most important, vital thing that all Grandma's do when cooking. Taste the stuff. I missed this part. But at least I followed the recipe to a tee. That is one thing I never do. But I did this time.

Sunday morning rolls in and I, proud mom, 'pops' open my first jar of strawberry jam ever. Hubby was there for my inauguration into the "Mommy Who Can Can" club. I put in my teaspoon and all cocky like, scooped out a heaping mouthful, opened my mouth and....."Oh, my god. That's......not good.....oh, man, that...is...in...need....of...some...major....SUGAR." I was so devastated. Hubby took a bite and said, "Ummmmm, that's.....pretty bad. You know, we aren't diabetic. We don't need the no sugar version. You should have just made the real stuff. Like Grandma." CRAP! Ya, like Grandma.

I composed myself, tasted it again, and added several teaspoons of sugar. Ahhhhh, that was better.

My ego was popped along with the lids on the jam jars. I thought I had moved up the crafty mommy chain by making some real homemade jam, on-the-stove-from-scratch. Just like Grandma. But I totally botched it. Like my $12.80 in strawberries, I was crushed.

So my diabetic Father-in-Law is now a proud new owner of 8 jars of unsweetened strawberry jam.
There was no reason AT ALL to divert from Grandma's way. There is something to be said about the classic baked goods we grew up with. It is real. It is pure. There was none of this no sugar bulls#*t. Why did I think I had to get all on my high horse thinking that my kids would be any healthier because they had a teaspoon of no-friggin-sugar-strawberry-jam on their toast? Whatever, I say to myself. I should have put in the darn sugar and done it right the first time. Don't chince on the good stuff. I make my cookies from scratch and I always use real butter, sugar, and chocolate. As some guy on the Food Network said, "Make it like Grandma's."
So I will. I went out to the strawberry patch yesterday. Instead of picking them myself, I bought the flat this time. I paid more, but it was worth avoiding the gigantic headache of monitoring the Wee Ladies in the field. I am going to do it right this time. With some sugar..and maybe a couple extra teaspoons just to make it extra sweet. The above picture is what I used the first time around. Under it is what I should have used the first time around.
It's like I'm all 17 again rebelling against Grandma. Trying to prove that my way was the best way. Only to learn that I was wrong again. As I have heard a million times, "You should always listen to your mother." I'm 33 and it still hasn't sunk in.

Will the Wee Ladies do the same thing to me?

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, DDM, Family, Hubby

A friend of mine e-mailed to see about getting EvieG and her son together for a play date. These 2 kids have known each other since infancy. They swam together, went to the same preschool, and are now in the same Kindergarten class. The best part is that they live right down the street. So we coordinate getting the kids together. Just like we coordinate everything else in the childrens' lives. She signed off her e-mail as her son's Personal Assistant. I laughed out loud. We moms are indeed Personal Assistants. This is not a bad thing.

Other names could be Gofer, Social Coordinator, Event Planner, and Right-Hand Woman. We as moms have the "responsibility, knowledge, understanding, authority, and ability to implement a plan articulated by one in a position of authority"- the child being the one in the position of authority and we, the mom, have the power to design and execute the plan. Therefore, WE are the ones who are ultimately in the position of authority. We are in charge of their schedules. Personal Assistants have tremendous power.

We have the calendars, the tools, and the connections to schedule the lives of our children. To do our jobs well, we moms apply extraordinary organizational skills and effective communication skills in order to make the lives of the children enriching, fulfilled, and fun. We can combine business and pleasure with ease. We plan their appointments, meetings, and social lives swiftly just by making a call, or sending an e-mail. We reply to RSVP's at all costs. We buy their friends gifts and we make sure that their guests are always entertained appropriately when at our house.

I read that the BEST Personal Assistants, "have the ability to anticipate their employer's needs and take care of them before they are asked to do so." I am flattered. That means we moms can take on Madonna's PA any day because we are ALWAYS a step ahead of our kids. We can organize their lives to such perfection and so ahead of schedule that all we do is tell them where they need to go and at what time.

We make sure that the children have their schedules visibly accessible so we can remain on top of the daily happenings. We have computers, cell phones, and sometimes even Blackberries. We even assign different colours to each child on the Easy Wipe Whiteboard Calendar. That way we can distinguish each schedule and multitask accordingly.

I am bombarded with requests every day. I take these requests and try my best to make them a reality. Here is a list of our most popular requests:

1. Can we go to So and So's house today?

2. Can we go to the library?

3. Can we go to the park?

4. I need to go to the bathroom.

5. I am hungry. Can I have a snack?

6. Who is coming to my birthday party?

7. When is my birthday party?

8. I want a chocolate cake with icing and decorations for my birthday.

9. Can So and So come and play at my house today?

10. I want to go to Grandma's and Grandpa's house for a sleep over. Can I?

And on and on and on......keeping in mind, some of these requests are repeated several times in one day. So I record the requests on my dictaphone, or make a mental note to fulfill these requests as soon as humanly possible. I don't want to be fired, or sent away to reaffirm my commitment to my job and my people. I never want my loyalty questioned. I always reply with, "I will get on that as soon as I can," or "We'll see when we can fit it into your schedule," or "Our people will call their people."

Sometimes a request cannot be fulfilled. It either doesn't fit into the schedule, or it is deemed unnecessary. Like a movie on demand. Or an impromptu social meeting. Sometimes the PA has to say no. When asked why, the response is always reasonable and justifiable. The Personal Assistant has the power to veto and authorize all requests and decisions.

My number one goal in this job as a Personal Assistant is to ensure the happiness of my child, or boss, whichever way you want to look at it....I am always striving to earn the BIG BONUS at the end of the day. A GINORMOUS hug and a, "Thanks, Mom. I love you." I wouldn't trade this job for any other in the world. Job satisfaction? 10 out of 10.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Family, Responsibility

I have a dreamy hobby. When I have a few quiet moments at night I dream of our dream house. I think about where it would be, what it would look like, and who I could hire to help decorate it with me....because I can't do that stuff.

My MIL gives me all of her leftover house and home magazines when she is done with them. I take a look through them and then I tear out pictures of stuff I like. It could be anything from entire rooms, to pieces of furniture, or accessories I think are nice. I then pull out my trusty file folder which I have labeled by room. The folder is labeled: living room, dining room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and other. The 'other' section is for pictures of laundry rooms, mud rooms, decks, decorating stuff, etc. I put the pictures in their respective folders and tuck it away until my next imaginary design session.

I do not limit the folders just to 'house' pictures. If I see pictures of cottages and their furnishings, well, I just throw that in too. I have dreams about what our cottage would look like, just as I dream about our future house. And I am really driven by the seasons. Right now I am more in cottage mode than dream house mode, obviously because of the weather. I sometimes wake up in the morning and imagine myself waking up by the water. I pretend to hear the lake lapping against a dock and the loon calling in the background.

True, these are dreams. But it doesn't mean I am unhappy or dissatisfied. It is quite the opposite. I love being with the Wee Ladies every day and I am content living where we are. The good thing about the dream is that it gives us drive. Drive to strive to make a living that will hopefully result in the dream house, or cottage. I think dreaming is the best motivator. I think that without these dreams, we get comfortably situated in the status quo.

Hubby and I do not believe in status quo, but we realize that fulfilling dreams takes time. Right now we have chosen a path where I stay at home. We tighten the purse strings for a while, but that is a sacrifice we make for our kids and in the meantime, the dream house/cottage is put on temporary hold. For us, we wait until our financial situation is secure enough for us to charge ahead in making the dreams a reality.

My biggest dream was to have healthy, happy babies. And that came true. The rest are secondary dreams, and in time they too shall come to fruition.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Responsibility

Happy 4th of July to our neighbours to the south from the Wee Ladies, Hubby and me! I hope you have a fun long weekend with family and friends. If you get away for a wee trip, have a drink for me. I can't wait to get away for a summer trip.

The Wee Ladies are putting some of our electronics through the wringer. By this, I mean that I am forever wringing the water out of our portable phones and remote controls. We don't have one single remote control that works properly in the house. Either they are suffering from slight water damage, or they are missing parts.

The Wee Ladies gravitate towards these gadgets. Like a teenage girl gravitates to the phone. Only my girls are under age 5 and are getting a head start on the phone front. And it is all about the phone too. They love taking them off their cradles, pressing buttons, and occasionally making a call. They hold the phone to their ears and have conversations with the invisible people on the other end....or maybe it's legitimate and I am hanging up on people! Sometimes they get pissed off at the person they are speaking with and decide to throw the phone into the toilet. We have 2 portable phones without call display, thanks to toilet water.

The phones aren't the only sufferers of the drowning ritual, but so are the remote controls. We do not have any DVD remotes that work properly. The TV remote upstairs in our room only works when standing at point blank range in front of the screen. Once you lay in bed and try and turn up the volume or change the channel, there's no chance. It only works from a 2 foot distance.

The TV remote in the living room is missing the plastic back part that holds the batteries in. So it is usually not working because there are missing batteries laying among the extra change and dried banana peels under the couch cushions. The DVD remote only works from a minuscule distance, like both remotes upstairs, but it is usually just MIA.

The super annoying thing about this is that we have to do everything manually now. Volume, channels, menu changes, etc.....are all done via Wee Lady demand. Who needs TV ON DEMAND when you have the Wee Ladies? And the phones? Well, I am forever taking them away and putting them out of reach. What is even more annoying is forgetting to put them back on the charger at night, so that by the next day I have nothing but dead phones. I hate picking up the phone only to be greeted by the BEEP! I look to see the picture of the battery with a BIG X through it. Shit! I find another phone, but the screen is blank. Is it dead or is this the phone that lost the screen display because of toilet water? Shit again.

I guess when I think about it, we have ONE remote that is still intact. The TV remote from the kitchen. We have one of those little TV's attached to the wall. It still works, but barely. The buttons stick when you try and change the channels. Little hands have tried to do it themselves. Without-washing-their-hands-first. I can't win. This remote is often MIA as well, and I find it in spots like the toy microwave, or among the instruments.

I am going to make damn sure that I hold on to and guard the remotes for the ceiling fans with my life. I don't want those ones to go haywire either. Then I will be remotely screwed.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Thanks for reading and be sure to come back next week from more tales from this Dress Down Mom. Have a fun weekend!

PPS I am going to get my hair done this afternoon.....here's to a new head!

Labels: Battle, Family

We would like to congratulate Laura for submitting the most germ infested story. She is the proud new owner of a shopping cart cover from Generation Baby.
Thanks to everyone for participating. We had some great germy stories. We will be having more contests/giveaways, so stay tuned!

And it wouldn't be complete of course, without posting the WINNING STORY!!! It's a doozy...

One of my kids is a major double finger sucker and has been since she was 3 weeks old. Anyways, she had a great old time playing in the sandbox at school throughout the summer a few years ago and into September. Around the beginning of October, 3 of the 5 of us started to experience some, should we say, "itching" in quite an uncomfortable spot on your body. Well, I got thinking about it and traced it back to the sandbox--yep, pinworms from the grossness in the sand, into her sweet mouth via the double finger suck. It spread throughout our family through sloppy kisses. You also need to 'find' these critters with a flashlight and a bum in the air. Well, I don't know if you're aware of the treatment for pinworms, but it ain't fun. Neither is asking the pharmacist (who you know on social basis for the adult and child version of the treatment). Needless to say you are incapacitated for a few days and the bathroom becomes the family hotspot while the 'worms' are being disposed of into the sewage system.

We are all quite hesitant of sandboxes these days, but at least now I know what to look for!!! That, I must say, is our grossest, although not only, experience with the world's plethora of germs and bacteria.

Thanks, Laura for that story! I can't even imagine the horror of that experience! What we can go through as parents!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Contests

The Destroyer has some mountains to conquer. She is fast and agile. She knows where she wants to go and what she wants to do. If anyone steps in her path, they will hear about it. She needs to keep up with her older sisters. It amazes me- how quickly the third child catches on through observation. Her learning curve is shorter and steeper.

The Destroyer just turned 14 months old. I have written about her physical speed before. She was walking sturdily at 10 months. She was climbing from about the same time. So what is she doing now?

We went to the park last night after dinner. I watched her run around with her sisters, climb on the equipment, and slide down the slide all by herself. She did it all without help. I know for a fact that the other two were at least 18 months before they even wanted to attempt the slide alone. She then looked for the most efficient way to get back to the slide. So instead of going around and up the stairs, she found a hole to crawl through underneath the bars. This cut her return trip to the slide by a third.

This kid has no fear. She will attempt to climb anything. She climbs the furniture, the stairs (in both directions), and anywhere she can get some food. In our backyard, she climbs up the slide to get into the tree fort because she has yet to master the climbing wall. I am sure this will be attempted earlier rather than later.

She doesn't like her sisters in her path either. And she doesn't really care if they are. I witnessed Spark Plug trying to block her from getting to the couch. The Destroyer looked at her, grunted, and pushed her out of the way. I can't wait to see what she is like in sports....

The table is an interesting spot to observe the Wee Ladies. Now that The Destroyer has her own spot, she needs to find a way to get into her chair. She pulls out the bench, climbs onto the table, shimmies across the table, and seats herself comfortably in her chair. Then she looks over at me with a look that says, "Where's my grub?"

If she doesn't get enough to eat, she will get herself out of her chair, slide across the table, and dip into the meals of her sisters. I am forever lifting her off the table, but she is determined. She turns around and then wedges herself between her sisters who are trying to politely eat their food, and reach for anything she can get. This kid can put it back. She often has a meal and a half.

She is also obsessed with brushing her teeth. She runs into the bathroom anytime she sees the open door and heads to the toilet. She puts the lid down, climbs onto the seat, onto the back, and up to the counter. She edges her way to the sink, picks up her toothbrush, and proceeds to give her 12 teeth a solid cleaning. When I attempt to remover her, she grunts and groans, straightens her body into a plank position, and gives me the What-For...

At such an early age, we can she her drive and ambition to succeed. She wants to keep up with everyone else. She hates being left behind and is constantly striving to be bigger and faster. I don't know if this is the way of a third child. I include her and accommodate her in everything. If we feel she is ready to tackle something new, then by all means, we let her try. She falls and she has landed herself more bumps and bruises. She just gets up and keeps going.

I love watching her explore and attempt new things. I also love watching her thinking process as she plans her next move. She is not easily frustrated, which is great. She tries until she achieves her goal. This might sound crazy because the kid is 14 months old, but it's true.

I can't wait to see what she will find interest in as she gets older. If she wants to climb mountains, I will let he do it. But only with the best, state-of-the-art equipment. And if she wants to free climb.....well, I just don't know. That will take some convincing. A skill which I am sure she will master in due time.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: The Destroyer

During life before kids it was a cardinal rule never to call any friends before noon on the weekends. And never before 10:00 most other days. And if for some reason, I needed to call before these times, I always reluctantly picked up the phone, dialed slowly, and held the receiver a couple of inches away from my ear. I feared the voice on the other end. Now that I have kids, I have no guilt calling my friends who have children because I know that they are all up before 8:00 am. And I can even call before that if I want.

Before children, I feared the response upon pick up if I called a friend before the designated times. I was greeted with either a) What the hell are you calling me so early for? or b) the groggy, raspy, hungover, Helllooooo? And then the conversation always followed with a couple of apologies, "Oh, I am soooo sorry for getting you up!" and was usually cut short. I knew that I couldn't call again until mid-afternoon. At-the-earliest. I didn't want to risk 2 piss offs in one day.

I usually didn't worry about calling anyone in the morning because I too was usually still sleeping. Most days during university things in our house/apartment didn't get rolling until late morning. And then we entered the work world. Even then, I didn't call any friends first thing. It was hard enough getting up and ready for work. Calling in the morning was pointless. There was no time. We were too rushed.

I have friends with kids and some are without. The unwritten don't-call-before-noon rule still applies on weekends with my friends without kids. I have even tested the waters and have called at 11:00am to which I have AGAIN awaken someone after a night of debauchery. Ooops, sorry.

I don't even remember what it is like to sleep in like that. I can't sleep in anymore. Even if I am not at home. I am awake first thing, and lay there. Tossing and turning until I just get up and think, Why bother? I might as well just get up.

My friends with kids are up at the crack of dawn with me. I call Nenny With Twins sometimes at 7:30 am. We sometimes call each other and have a morning coffee together while the kids play. There is no guilt associated with this either, which is the best part. These friends are always happy to hear from me at ungodly hours. And if it's not a good time because a kid is sick or not having a good day, then they tell me. And we resume our conversation later. But there's no apologies. Just a I-gotta-go! Talk-to-you-later!

There is one exception to the calling-other-moms-rule. I never call a house with a newborn, or even an infant early in the day. You never know how the sleeping thing is going and whether or not they have had any- babies and moms. So I wait until the afternoon to make those calls. Just in case. Because again, you can run into getting the same reaction you did when calling a hungover friend in university.

There has been a shift in the evening calling now. I can still call friends without kids late if I want. They are usually up. They are out or maybe watching TV. But now I never call friends with kids after 8:30 pm. You never know if they are already in bed, and you don't want to wake the kids up. After a long day with kids, some moms want to chill out in the evenings after their kids go to bed. So I just wait to call the following morning at 7:30 am.

Moms have all the bases covered as far as phone conversations are concerned. We can always find someone to talk to. And for me, I need to have the options. The days with the Wee Ladies can be long sometimes, so a fun chat with a friend can always rejuvenate me.

I have pregnant friends. And I have tested the early morning call on them. Just to see if they are ready to join the early-morning-coffee-chat-group. And most often, they are up and willing to say a quick 'hi'.

This morning Auntie Missy called as I was cleaning up from breakfast. I saw her number come up on the call display. I answered, "What's the matter? Are you ok? It's 7:30!" She replied, "Did you just call here? Your number came up! It rang once. I wanted to see if you were ok!" Hubby overheard and shouted from upstairs, "Spark Plug just made a long distance call!" We laughed at the fact that our two year old just called Toronto.

If my friends are counting on a phone call from me, they can rest assured that I will call at the appropriate times. I cannot guarantee that they won't get calls during the 'off times' from one of the Wee Ladies though.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Last chance to get your germ infested stories in! We announce the winner tomorrow!

PPS We have our babysitter a couple of mornings a week for the summer! So I will be posting in the mornings some days and then I can spend the afternoon swimming with EvieG while the others nap.

Labels: DDM

Happy Canada Day!! I am posting 2 clips today. One for all of those proud Canadians out there and a classic SCTV Bob and Doug McKenzie skit from many years ago.

Enjoy. And to all of those Canadians out there, have a great holiday. To any Americans reading, your day is coming on Friday!

Click here for clip one. It takes a few seconds to load.

Click here for clip two.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Announcements