I will set the stage for you. Picture this-

There is a rather slick looking, shiny black, 4 door Chev pick up filled to the brim with an old, broken dryer, a lemon yellow lounge chair cushion, and half a wooden wine rack driving to the dump. Inside sits a cool looking stud wearing a black fleece pullover, ripped jeans, and low cut hiking boots caked in mud. Beside him is a woman who is wearing the same coffee stained t-shirt she wears a couple times a week, sometimes two days in a row, dirty jeans, and boots without socks. She has her hair pulled back as usual. There is no denying that this is a cool looking couple. The coolness factor resonates from them.

In the back there are 2 girls. A 5 year old and a 1 1 /2 year old. From behind the tethers of the car seat straps you can see, along with their parents in the front, 4 bopping heads. The windows are down and their hair flies in the crisp, Ethanol scented air. They are rockin'.

They rock to the iconic band, The Beastie Boys.

DDM: Whooo hooo! Rock on!

Hubby: Look back at the girls! They are right into this!

EvieG: I know what this song is called! It's called, Hey Ladies!

DDM: That's right! Well done! Rock on, Ladies! (hands waving above her head)

Hubby: I can't believe she knows the name of this song!

DDM: It's great! It's classic!

TheD: Weeeeeeee!

EvieG: Come on everybody! Raise the ceiling!

Pause-, look back-, and stare-.

DDM: What? Did you say raise the ceiling?

EvieG: Yep. Come on!

DDM: Ok, then! Raise-the-ceiling?!! (whispering to Hubby) She means raise the roof....she just had a senior's moment! That's totally something a senior citizen would say on the dance floor, cutting some rug at somewhere like a wedding, who is among a bunch of young people, and trying to look cool. That's my girl!

We are so cool.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Thanks for reading and I will return on Monday....

Labels: Family, Fun

There is nothing like that look of excitement on a kid's face when you mention the word, Santa. EvieG is bursting at the seams right now. We bought our advent calendar, we have some decorations up, and we wrote her letter to Santa Claus.

I am not one to accept and encourage the, "I want, I want," during the holidays. While it is certainly acceptable to ask Santa for some things, it is not cool in my mind to write a letter and demand the gifts.

We brainstormed ideas to get her thinking about how to position herself in her letter. We thought about questions to ask and different things we could include. I guided and she dictated what to write. We attempted to make EvieG's letter sound more well rounded:

Dear Santa,

How is Rudolph doing? I hope Mrs. Claus is feeling well. I have been a good girl. I am mostly nice to my sisters and am working hard on my reading! I help mom fold the laundry and help her make cookies and muffins.

This year I wish for new plates for my toy kitchen and a princess tea set. I would also love a baby plant to take care of. And a new colouring pad.

Spark Plug is very nice. She gives me hugs and kisses all the time when I come home from school. She hopes for a new colouring pad too. She loves anything Tinkerbell. She would especially love Tinkerbell shoes.

The Destroyer is very nice too. She sometimes gets up on the table. For Christmas, she would like new cups for her orange juice and water. She might like some new books for her room. A pretend phone might be a good idea because she tries to talk on the real phones all the time!

Thank you! Have a safe trip! Be sure to try some of our cookies! We will leave out some chocolate milk and carrots for the reindeer!

Love,

The Wee Ladies

xoxo

And so you have it. The Wee Ladies in a nutshell. EvieG takes care of things, Spark Plug like to dress up, and The Destroyer destroys everything.

We will check the mailbox every day to see if a letter has arrived yet. We will count down the days until Santa comes.

I will hold on to and push the notion of the real Santa Claus for as long as I can. I will thwart and dodge any questions later on regarding its validity. I will concoct the best stories about the goings on at the North Pole and the intricacies behind how it functions. We will understand the roles everyone plays up there.

I will make sure that I will exhibit due diligence when it comes to the manufacturing of North Pole goodies. I will be the second in line at quality control, next in line after the first set of elves.

I will not allow anything to go under the tree or in a stocking that might have even the slightest link to numbers or tags. Any questions regarding names will be described as a working partnership between the companies and Santa.

It is not like I am trying to heavily promote capitalism, mergers, and good business. I just want them to believe for as long as they can. There is no harm in that, right? I will be prepared to justify my actions, when the time comes.

I know that kids spot everything. And kids will question until they are properly satisfied. Because when I was 8, Uncle Jeff pointed out the remnants of price tag goo on my jumbo size Dr. Pepper Bonne Bell lip chap. I was mortified. I ignored it, and him. For another few years.


The imagination, the wonder, the curiosity, the sneaking downstairs at 4am to see if Santa has come yet. There is nothing better than that as a kid.

We don't have to be kids either. If Tom Hanks invited me for a ride on the Polar Express, I would for sure go. And I would make sure I had pockets without holes.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Fun

It has begun. The pestering, the following, the poking. The sibling rivalry. The Wee Ladies are having moments already where they grate on each other's nerves. With this comes the whining and complaining. And Hubby and I have moments of great sighs and eye rolling. We remind ourselves that the Wee Ladies are 5, 2, and 1. It is just the beginning.

As I watch them tease and aggravate one another, I think back to my middle childhood. Uncle Jeff and I had a tumultuous relationship at times. I remember our little spats and our all out battles. We would reconcile. Temporarily. And then something else would trigger the next skirmish, or someone would cross the line and it would start all over again.

For the record, we do not do this anymore. We are beyond that now. We get along famously and are in contact a couple times a week. I am 33. He is 35. It took a while, but we did it.

I just have a couple more decades until there is solid peace in our household....

I remember my brother sitting beside me on the couch while we were watching TV. He would reach his index finger over to my face. He would keep it there steady and still. And then he would say softly, "I'm not touching you!" He would pause. And then a few seconds later, "I'm not touching you!" He would repeat this a few times until I either freaked out on him or became the victim of a wet willy, where my ear would be covered in his saliva. And then I would freak out on him. This was by far one the most annoying annoyances about my big brother. These silly games.

The Wee Ladies are playing these silly games, but in the toddler version. Spark Plug will be laying on the floor and The Destroyer, a whole one year younger, will come and stand over top of her, looking down on her in silence. She stands like a statue. And Spark Plug gets completely irritated and freaks out. The Destroyer continues to pester in silence. It usually requires my splitting them up.

The Destroyer is sometimes a bother to her sisters, no doubt. Her mere presence can send Spark Plug over the edge. She is very physical and pushes her weight around easily. She will body slam, push, and even run herself into a wall if she doesn't get what she wants. She can be quite aggressive. And we watch her over the top reactions and follow up with some good, old fashioned discipline.

Already she knows how to push the buttons of her older sisters. And she sometimes instigates conflict. She is trying to establish her place within the birth order. She is succeeding too. Her sisters are quickly learning not to mess with her.

Sibling rivalry is inevitable. I recognize this. I do not like watching them go at each other already but it is interesting to see how each one deals with the conflict. It makes me think that they will for sure need their own space as they get older. Even if it means a trip to Grandma's by themselves.

Uncle Jeff is coming for Christmas. We can't wait to see him. During his stay, the Wee Ladies are guaranteed to learn something new and borderline inappropriate. His gifts are always the noisy, annoying toys that make you want to go insane. I wonder what surprises and lessons are in store for this year?

As Uncle Jeff and I sit side by side at the table and play our annual board game battle of Risk, I will make sure I border his countries with my armies and say, "I'm not touching you! I'm not touching you!"

And then maybe as I take over the world, I will attack him with a wet willy. Just for old times sake.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, Spark Plug, The Destroyer

You know the saying that all kids would be happy playing with the box? Well, I don't think that this is entirely true. It is to a certain point, but I think that kids are naturally attracted to the most irritating, loud, obnoxious toys if given the opportunity. Or the slimy, dirty ones out in the backyard that they rediscover after 5 long months of winter.

Do the toy companies ever ask the parents what they think or how they feel about having these annoying toys around the house singing, cackling, or crying in everyone's ears?

We have lots of dollies around. EvieG rediscovered one of them yesterday and was showing her off. This doll winces, cries, and soothes itself if given a soother. Every time I hear it, my uterus clenches and it screams out in panic. There will be no more real babies in our family. For real this time. My uterus is closed for business.

The crying! The wailing! The WAAA WAAAA! I holler over the baby's cry to EvieG and order her to stick a cork in it. She looks at me in bewilderment and I then rush over to give the baby doll a soother. Make it stop!

The Wee Ladies love these dollies. They love taking care of them. And so I cannot find it in my heart to pitch them along with the Tupperware that Hubby tried to get rid of. And so I exhibit patience. I am a mature adult who has gone through the baby stage 3 times. And so what is a toy doll? It should be nothing to me, right?

But no. I cringe when I hear it. I try to ignore it. And sometimes I do. I will slyly take the doll and turn the switch OFF and throw it in the back of the cupboard until she is discovered again. With these dolls, there is no where to turn and hide! There are crying babies all around, all the time! I have discovered that we are never truly done with the baby stage.

I ask again- do these toy companies realize what they are doing to us parents by making real life baby dolls? Do they realize that they are sending us into flashbacks of sleepless nights and hours of fussy time? Are they trying to test our psychological strengths? Our marriages?

Before they shelve the next best thing in real life baby dolls, I dare them to send the dollies my way. I will evaluate and give them true feedback. I will write to them with a million typos, or forget complete thoughts when talking to them because of my sleep deprivation.

And then when we think the baby stage is done and the dolls are no longer of interest to the Wee Ladies, there will be another doll. Only this time we will have to teach it to walk, talk, and behave properly.

Who ever thought our parenting would merge with the imaginary world?

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Fun

There is officially a SOLD sign at the the front of our house. We signed on the dotted line Friday evening. We are excited about this new adventure we are about to embark on. But with all of this excitement comes a lot of hard work. We have to sort, pitch, and pack. Deciding what to part with is very difficult and will no doubt test the bonds of marriage.

Hubby and I started sorting, pitching, and packing the kitchen over the weekend. And we experienced a lovers quarrel. Now this wasn't a fight. There was no shouting or throwing of Denby dishes in the discontinued Energy pattern. There was a disagreement of sorts. A debate. And I lost. But not really. I have plans. Hubby thinks he has had the last word with this one.

We argued over whether or not to keep the Tupperware that I have known and lived with my entire life. The same Tupperware containers I grew up with and then stole/borrowed/took from my mom. This is good quality stuff. It never dies. It lives on forever. And this was Hubby's point. To him, it is scary that it looks like brand new after so many decades.

I had to drop EvieG off at a birthday party. Upon my return home, I noticed Hubby had already sorted, pitched, and packed some of the storage container cupboard. I pulled the old, "There's nothing left! You got rid of.....lots of.....well, everything!" This was a slight over-exaggeration.

He then said all smug like, "Do you even know what is missing? Do you even realize what I pitched?"

I stared into the cupboard. And then I looked at him with wide, sad eyes. A tear may have even welled, or a piece of dust got stuck under my lid.

I gasped in horror. I said, "How could you assume I don't know what you tossed? Tell me you didn't. Please. Tell me your heart isn't that empty. That you found it inside yourself to go ahead, without my consent, and pitch the good stuff. The classic, decent, hearty, no-fail, lifetime warrantied Tupperware! I am hurt. Give me a minute to digest this- I have had that stuff in my family forever! We have used that stuff lots! It is great stuff and really expensive to replace! I want it back! And to answer your question, yes! Yes! I know what you stole from me! First, the green lettuce container.

And-just a second, let me look- oh, and the orange container is missing!"


He was looking at me with a look of impatience and tilted his head like he wanted me to get out of the way because I was wasting good, solid packing time with this folly.

He shot back with, "We are not taking it. You know why it is so intact after all these years? Because it probably has all the bad chemicals in it that we are not supposed to be ingesting or exposing our children to! We don't need it anymore! It scares me how old and.....how old it is!"

I couldn't move. I sat on the floor in front of an empty cupboard staring at him and waiting. Waiting for him to march out into the garage to rescue and return my Tupperware containers.

He didn't move either. He stood his ground.

I kept mumbling to myself under my breath, trying to cope with this loss.

I had a plan. A plan he still does not know about. I am going to be all stealth and go into the bags and take back what he stole from me. I am going to rescue my Tupperware. I am going to pack them and take them with us to our new house.

One day, he will open the cupboard to get a container for his leftovers and see them sitting in there, all shiny and glimmering at him as if to say, "Ha, ha, Buddy. We're still here!"

He will get mad and then say, "What? What the heck is this?"

And I will retort with, "Well, I knew we would use it! It is saving us money so we don't have to go and buy more storage containers. And I thought that container there beside the orange one would be beneficial to our Tupperware collection. We can take it on picnics and to BBQ's! My mom said we could have it!"

He will close the cupboard and walk away. And eventually he will realize everyone needs to have one.

Everyone needs to have a Tupperware condiment container.


All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Today is an exciting day! My first article is posted at Scarlett Lounge, a great Canadian bargain hunting site! Click at the top of this page to go and check it out!

Labels: Battle, DDM, Hubby

We had a family movie night last night. The Wee Ladies had popcorn and sippy cups of water. Hubby and I had beer. Hubby chose the movie. He has also chosen the next family movie night flick for this weekend. I have to say that I am gobsmackingly impressed.

Hubby: Hey. I have the next 2 movies for family movie night.

DDM: Oh ya? Great! What did you pick? (thinking Disney cartoon or computer animated film of some sort)

Hubby: Tonight we are going to watch The Sound of Music. And this weekend we have none other than Mary Poppins.

DDM: (shock rings through my voice) You are sure you want to sit and watch musicals starring Julie Andrews, Christopher Plummer, and Dick Van Dyke? The whole way through?

Hubby: Yep. My girls will love it and I want them to enjoy it.

DDM: (to myself) Holy man! A straight guy who voluntarily wants to watch musicals. That is love.

Silence.

Hubby: What was that noise?

DDM: That was just my jaw hitting the floor.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Have a fab weekend! I will return on Monday with more from this zoo.

PPS I have some fun news to share with everyone on Monday! Be sure to come back then and check out the new announcement!

Labels: DDM, Family, Fun, Hubby

I am totally the opposite of a salon girl. I only go to get my hair highlighted and trimmed. That is the extent of my styling outings. I will go for a pedicure bi-annually because someone found it in their heart to donate to the DDM's Callus Cause. Hubby and I took Spark Plug and The Destroyer for their first hair cuts today. Boy howdy, did we ever see some interesting stuff.

It was 9:30 am. We got to our appointments and we put The Destroyer up on the black vinyl box first. She was squirming right from go. We gave her a sucker to silence her. This goes totally against my 'No suckers until after lunch' policy, but this event was an exception. It didn't work. Every time the hair stylist went to trim some hair, The Destroyer dodged the incoming scissors. We put her down to let her check out the premises, destroy the Christmas tree, and knock down any decorations at floor level until she was comfortable in her surroundings.

We then put Spark Plug up on the pedestal to see how she would do. She is sometimes quite hesitant in new places and in new situations. But I will say that she loves the mirror and all sorts of accessories. If she could, and she usually does, she would roam around in her purple Palmolive Madge sunglasses all day.

She ate up this time in the chair. Completely. Watching, studying, lapping it up. She was in salon, pampering heaven. She sat still and quiet. She did not move a muscle, except to beam at us. She got a trim and some shape added to her hair. The best part for her? The princess sparkles. She had that sparkle hair spray put in her hair and the stylist put it in pigtails. The pride was resonating from her. She got down from the chair, strutted around the shop, and then went straight for the suckers. She continued to strut while simultaneously dancing to Madonna's Hard Candy album.

I had some snippets of their hair put into Zip Loc Sandwich Bags. And that has got to be one of my dumber moves. Plastic bags and baby hair are not a good match. The static in the bag has resulted in the hair sticking to the sides of the bag. And it covers the sides of the bag completely. The hair is spread around like honey spread over a piece of bread. I say, smooth move, DDM. How I am going to collect it all together is a puzzle. I will put it in a drawer or a box along with all of the other stuff that has to yet be placed in some sort of baby album, waiting for the day to come when the Album Fairy comes to save me and make them for me.

When it comes to styling the hair of the Wee Ladies, I get a big, fat, bold F. I brush it and tidy it, on a good day. Usually I just clip it off to the side, or spray some detangler in it to make sure they are not wandering around with rats' nests attached to their heads. I barely do my own hair, so why would I do theirs all nice with a blow dryer and product? I don't. But I did watch the stylist put their hair in pigtails. So I can do that myself now, realizing that I will not pull their hair, or hurt them.

If I am going to start putting their hair in pigtails more often, I am going to have to go out and find some of this princess sparkle spray. Where do you get that stuff?

From this salon experience, we learned that The Destroyer is going to go to the salon because she has to. To her, it is a waste of time. And to Spark Plug, the salon experience will be a way of life.

Hubby has said that he believes he will spend his life funding EvieG's humanitarian missions as she travels the world, helping those in need. Well, now he believes he will be funding Spark Plug's salon missions.

I think The Destroyer will be happy with all access to Dare, Allen's, Cadbury, and Hershey.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Family, Fun

Selling and buying houses is so laborious. Back and forth and back and forth. I feel like I am playing a tennis match only with each hit of the ball goes several inclusions, exclusions, numbers, and sets of initials. I don't play tennis very well at all. My backhand sucks. But I can throw in the home theatre and I am sure I can find something else to entice the buyer.

We are in the throes of selling our house as we prepare to relocate. We currently have one conditional offer. That goes through upon the sale of their house. We received another offer last week, financing pending. There was no date in sight for that, so we said no thanks. Then today we got another offer with no conditions, but way too low of a bidding price. So we have counter offered. Let the tennis match begin.

The papers are presented to us, we go over it, there is some scratching out, and some changing around. Then there is the initialing and signing. It is pretty much guaranteed that I miss writing my initials somewhere among the jargon. Finding the spots to sign is like playing Where's Waldo? in paperwork. Or like the I Spy books. We can call it I Spy: Real Estate Documents, Hidden Signatures.

We are so happy to have some interest and action on the house. It is better than what some other people are experiencing in this slow economy.

We will wait for the ball to return to our side of the court. Either we hit it back with another number and some more inclusions, like the weather station Hubby has on the roof, or we call it a game.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle

Hubby was laughing out loud at the TV last night. He was watching a Just For Laughs show on The Comedy Channel. I went in to see what was so funny. I missed the comic, but Hubby paraphrased on his behalf. And now I will paraphrase a second time.

It was all about the true colours of your loved ones as they emerge during sleep. This comic said that if you want to know whether you can sustain a good, solid relationship, make sure you sleep in the same bed first. And in this case it is not for the you-know-what. It is to really see what kind of person your future partner will be- in a sleeping state. Because no one cares or is conscious of what they look like while they are sleeping. You are who you truly are. He went on to say that he knew he could be with his wife forever because during their sleepovers, she was an angel when she fell asleep; so calm, beautiful, and peaceful. But in the middle of the night when she was in the middle of her REM cycle she became a walrus. Her mouth would hang open and she would snore. Loudly. He found it in himself to look beyond the walrus. He probably just dabbed the drool from the side of her mouth and rolled her over so she could sleep soundly and not in a pool of her own saliva.

In our house, Hubby has looked beyond my dorky sleeping habits as well. We are in it for the long haul. Apparently I do 'the chicken dance' in my sleep. This is where I put my hand on my head while I am sleeping on my side. And it looks like a chicken wing. I have no idea why I do this, but I guess it's comfortable. I also do the walrus sometimes and when I was pregnant, I was a VIA locomotive. And look- we are still strongly intact.

Hubby has the heat barrier. He likes the sheets cold. He coffins himself between 3 pillows. He has a pillow barricade around him, protecting him from the loving warmth of his wife, and also from her unshaven legs. He has been like this since we met. Even before we had our first sleepover. He rolls from one cold pillow to the other. The bottom line here is a) it isn't an issue, and b) there is never any cuddling action. Ever. That would make the human furnace overheat. We wouldn't want that.

Even the Wee Ladies sleep in funny positions. Both The Destroyer and Spark Plug sleep with their bottoms up. Their faces are planted into their pillows and their bums stick straight up. How this can be remotely comfortable is beyond me.

EvieG is a walrus too and sleeps on her back. She sleeps so still that her hair is one big frizzball every morning. She sleeps with her stuffed animals piled underneath her. I also can't figure out how this is very cozy.

The Wee Ladies always manage to sleep in weird places within their beds. At the bottom of the bed, across the top, on top of the covers, and even on the floor sometimes. I went into EvieG's room over the weekend and found that she had set up camp in her closet. She had her pillow and The Destroyer's quilt, and her books. She said it was her camp out. The Destroyer was missing her blanket, but that didn't seem to matter because we didn't hear a sound from her. Both The Destroyer and Spark Plug seem to sleep without blankets quite often. Sometimes they cry out when they get cold. I don't know how they can sleep for so long without covers!

I am not a fan of sleepovers with the Wee Ladies because of their positioning. They kick, poke, and jab. Like the BAM! and ZONK! and POW! from Batman and Robin, you can see me cringe and clench as I receive each blow throughout the night. But I still do it. And I still love them, even though they hurt me. In the kidney.

Watching them sleep in the car is hilarious. They look like they have had one too many cocktails as their heads swing from side to side, their mouths hang open, and you can see the drool dripping from their chins onto their coats. They even snore.

If this is indeed a look into the true colours of your loved ones, then this is what I see in the future for The Wee Ladies- a girl with one hand on her head, elbow pointing into the air, pillows all around her, blankets on the floor, drool collecting on the mattress, as she kicks her legs while grunting just like our Wee Westie Basil.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Family, Fun, Hubby

I was going to blog about hot chocolate today, but then something more exciting came along! I got asked to take some new products for a test drive.

At this point, I will only say that I am going to receive a basket of house stuff in the near future. Stuff to try and then talk about. I am excited to be getting mommy swag. It will be like a Christmas gift showing up at the door.

I will open the door and say to the delivery person, "What? A package for me? I wonder what it could be? No one ever sends me packages!" I will sign and accept. And then I will fiercely rip apart the box, and remove each item, sniffing it as I check it out.

It is not only about the swag. The swag is fun and I look forward to playing with new stuff that hasn't hit the shelves yet.

What will be equally exciting is playing with the bubble wrap. The Wee Ladies and I will have hours of fun with the bubble wrap. We can pop it with our fingers, wrap ourselves in it and then play Crash Up Derby, and we can roll around in it. The options are endless.

I will keep you posted about my first swag basket. This is going to be fun.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Fun

Madge and her followers tell us that Palmolive gives us soft hands while we do dishes. Click here to watch them. I would like to tell everyone that I have them figured out.

My hands are not perfectly manicured and soft like they show us in the commercial. In fact, the opposite is true. Take a look-

Here we see dish-pan hands at their finest. The nails are split, uneven, brittle. My skin is dry, chapped, and chafing. And I am in my Palmolive filled sink several times a day. Mine are not like the French-manicured hand models.

I even use the new Pure and Clear, Sparkling Fresh Ultra Palmolive dish soap! The phosphate free soap that contains no unnecessary chemicals, no heavy fragrances, non-irritating dyes, and biodegradable cleaning ingredients. If anything, you would think that this natural soap would be the stuff to keep my hands soft and beautiful.

Every time I put my hands in another full sink of soap and sippy cups, I can feel the moisture being sucked right out. They itch, burn, and have lost all suppleness. They are like sandpaper. I can see my fingers wrinkling and it's not the water-raisin syndrome either. My nails chip on the princess dishes, break off, and then scratch the Wee Ladies every time I help them get dressed, brush their teeth and hair, or put on their coats. They are constantly complaining that I poke and scratch them. "Owwww! Mom, you scratched me!" and "Mom! You poked me in the cheek! That hurt!" and "Ouch, Mom! Cut your nails!"

I do put moisturizer on occasionally, but it gets soaked up in milli-seconds, like water gets sucked up instantly in desert stricken soil. My hands look like caked, cracked mud.

And so I call the bluff of the ladies who "soak in it." And I know Posh Spice, Victoria Beckham, has learned their tricks too.

They all soak in moisturizer at night. With gloves covering and protecting their ten lovely, long, wrinkle-free, baby soft fingers.

As written at FemaleFirst, "Victoria Beckham has finally revealed her secret to looking good... she wears socks and gloves in bed to keep her skin looking young.

Posh covers her hands and feet with moisturising cream every night and then puts white cotton gloves and thick socks, as part of her bedtime ritual.

The former Spice girl said: "I put really thick foot lotion on with socks before I go to sleep. I also use thick hand cream with gloves at the same time."

I wonder what David Beckham thinks about his wife lying beside him slathered in cream? It could go either way.

Maybe I should take a trip to Shopper's Drug Mart, buy myself a pair of white cotton gloves, and go for the Extra Strength Gold Bond.

I know I would be encouraged by Madge to have a skin care routine for my hands. The three steps to good skin is to cleanse, moisturize, and protect. I have part one down perfectly. Step two is inconsistent. Step 3 is non-existent as I don't use a sunscreen on my hands everyday. It would all just get washed off in the Palmolive anyway.

I have work to do. I just figured that my hands would stay soft because that is what they tell us Palmolive dish soap will do, but also since my hands are immersed in water, doesn't osmosis play a role here?

Maybe it is not the Palmolive entirely. Maybe it is partly dehydration, vitamin-depletion, and over-caffeination to blame. I need to accept more responsibility. I can't rely solely on dish soap to keep my hands in an ultimate state of gorgeousness...it would be nice if they could even come close to being presentable.

I will listen to Mrs. Leatherface who demands I give her a drink. And maybe a few drinks a day will make her feel a whole lot better.

It's worth a shot.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Have a fun weekend and I will be back on Monday with more tales...or woes. Which ever way you want to look at it.

Labels: DDM, Fun

I saw it with my own two eyes last night. EvieG was officially inducted into her Sparks unit and is now a proud member of the Girl Guides of Canada. She held up her left by mistake and then properly held her right hand up and made her Sparks promise- I promise to share and be a friend. And she got 2 badges to go onto her pink sash....yes, the pink sash that goes with the pink uniform, that I insist on sewing on myself, even though they are iron on.

Before the ceremony, we had a chance to look through her scrapbook. It was full of pictures and drawings of her time in Sparks so far. We admired her All About Me poster. And then I sat down in the front row, tall and proud, beside the campfire. Be careful not to trip over the cord.


They sang their welcome song in a circle as they held hands and listened to a story about becoming a Spark. Then the induction began. Each girl lined up behind the rainbow slide. Each girl was showered in silver sparkles and then sent to slide down the rainbow to the world of real Sparks.

Just a reminder to be careful not to trip over the campfire cord.

Once they were over the rainbow, each girl was asked if she in fact wished to be a part of the Sparks group. Upon verbal agreement, much like signing a contract, they signed the deal by declaring the Sparks' promise for all to hear.
We, the witnesses, clapped. They each received their badges and a certificate; the official document bonding each girl to this group.

They sang a song of celebration to us witnesses and we ended the ceremony with snacks. One might assume that we would have a reception that included Girl Guide cookies. But no, it was something else. Something I haven't had in years. Something that made me feel like I was a Brownie all over again. Something that in my view is an inherent part of childhood.

Wafer cookies and-

strawberry Kool Aid, served out of the-
vintage Coleman spout thermos.

I was in retro heaven. I was over the rainbow myself. I was in my comfort zone. Happy that I could reconnect with my past and thrilled that EvieG could experience this too.

What is even more symbolic, Kool Aid aside, is that the very church basement where EvieG entered the world of Sparks, is the very same room where Hubby and I first met when we attended Tiny Tots nursery school together way back in 1979. We were 4. Obviously I don't remember him, but do have a vague memory of some guy stealing my Play-Doh.

EvieG was great. She was proud and stood strong. She was the last to go over the rainbow. She stood in line patiently, but you could see that she was bursting at the seams, waiting for her turn to get doused with sparkles by her leader Rainbow. Her other leader, Sparkle, waited for her at the end of the rainbow to welcome her into this new family. She declared her promise, with a big smile on her face, and Sparkle had to correct her by putting her left hand down, and having her raise her right hand. I was proud of her. She is ecstatic to have two new badges.

I guess I better get out and buy a sewing kit. Because there is no ironing action happening here. I am going to do it all old school. I just need to pick put some hot pink thread and we will be good to go.

EvieG is participating in a cookie blitz on Friday. She will be doing her community service. She will be standing with the other Sparks outside the grocery store selling off any remaining Girl Guide cookies. She is scheduled to be there for 45 minutes.

I will for sure have to wait in the van.

I give it 15 minutes max before she gets bored and starts wandering around the entrance of the store.

Last thing we need is a, "Clean up in aisle 7," because the pickle display was accidentally knocked over.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: EvieG

It has been a week and a half since the time change. We put the clocks back an hour the night of November 1st. Anyone who tells a mom that she gets an extra hour of sleep is lying. Time changes do not allow any more sleep. The time changes are just another something else that screws up the sleeping patterns of little kids. The Wee Ladies are still confused. We live in the Eastern Standard Time Zone, but it feels like we are starting our days in the Atlantic Time Zone along with all the Maritimers.

The Wee Ladies usually start and end the days on the 7. They get going at 7:00 am and end at 19:00 hours. They are ending the day at the same time as before, but we have been rising to the noises of Spark Plug and The Destroyer around 6:00 am. And it is killing me.

For a while there, I was getting a solid, uninterrupted sleep. But now, it seems the Wee Ladies are up throughout the night and then for the day waaaayy too early for my liking.

Spark Plug usually has to let us know she is still here around 3:00 am. Either she is cold, she falls onto the floor from her bed, or she has a bad dream. EvieG is wandering down the hall most nights once or twice, and usually because she has had a nightmare of some kind. She fell out of bed 2 nights ago for the first time. The Destroyer sleeps like a rock until she starts chirping at 6:00 am.

I feel like I have infants all over again. I do not do well with the whole lack of sleep thing.

Where is Hubby in all of this? Good question. I have no good answer for you either. He is a terrible sleeper and I usually just let him sleep. I know. He's got me so snowed.

I don't get the Wee Ladies up and going at dawn. I let them hang out in their beds, or sometimes Spark Plug comes into bed with us for a cuddle. For someone who can be so prickly, she is really cuddly in the morning.

I lay in bed as long as I can. I am not ready to take on the day when it is still dark. Morning dark and I are not good friends. Once I can see the light sky, I can justify getting up and going.

Actually, that is not entirely true. In the summer I don't get up at the crack of 5:00 am when the sun is beaming through our window. I just put my head under my pillow and whine, "Just 5 more minutes! Are the kids awake yet? I am ignoring them, just for a little while longer."

I just have to pretend that I am living in the Central or Mountain Time Zones. Should I even think about the possibilities of Pacific Time?

Oh, the possibilities.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM

This is what I found today on the back of EvieG's car seat:

A crusty, discoloured luggage tag from our trip to Florida to see Grandma and Grandpa. In December, 2006. Or is it from our trip in 2005? I can't remember which one, it was so long ago.

Here is what I think about this-

a) I haven't taken it off because I want to think we are world travelers.
b) It makes us look like we are world travelers. Just like when you leave the ski tag on the zipper of your coat pocket for months and months, so that when people see it, they think that you are a world traveler, only you ski your way through the world. You end up leaving it on your coat pocket for years and use the same tag for your ski passes, so they pile up one on top of the other, and so it definitely makes you look like a world traveler.
c) I have procrastinated for so long, that I figure now that tag deserves to be a part of the car seat.
d) I am a slacker, but still a wannabe world traveler.
e) All of the above.

We haven't been on a plane since December, 2006. We haven't traveled anywhere since then, well, except for Northern Ontario.

It is a distant memory, but one I choose to remember just like it was yesterday. I wish we could travel more.

On second thought, after this past weekend, am I nuts? I can't even imagine taking the Wee Ladies on a plane. I think I will wait.

And I will wait to cut the luggage tag off too. It's already been 2 years. What's 2 more? I will just insist the luggage handlers put the next tag over top of this one. It will be a makeshift passport. A collection of our world travels.

We will get to the check-in counter and they will attempt to put the new tag over the old one and it will disintegrate and crumble in their fingers because at that point it will be so old. Because we never go anywhere. Traveling+little kids=stay home.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Fun

After a weekend of traveling with the Wee Ladies, I have tallied:

2 10 packs of Timbits consumed
3 games of I Spy played
1 Tim Horton's coffee with double cream
2 Skinny Vanilla Lattes from Starbucks
1 McDonalds meal
3 boxes of Kleenex for EvieG because she doesn't know how to use just one at a time and we could have had a bonfire with all the paper and goobers

We went to start our search for a place to live in our new town. It is a 4 hour drive between here and there. It went fine. We haven't found anything and need to keep looking. We had fun although it does not go without some crazy moments when there are 3 Wee Ladies in a van for that long.

We have a DVD player that comes out on trips that last more than an hour. We even went to rent some DVD's from Blockbuster for the occasion. We were also told that there was a DVD player in our condo unit.

We were running late on Friday as Hubby took EvieG to the clinic to get her chest checked. She has a wicked cough and cold. By the time we hit the road we were 40 minutes behind and Hubby had to get to his new office to meet his new colleagues. Once we threw everything in the van, we set off. But before we left, I noticed that the DVD was without its power cord. Crap. We couldn't possibly make the 4 hour drive without movies. What did people do before in-car theatre? We couldn't find it and so went without. The kids were fine. They played, slept, coloured, played I Spy....They made it through rather well.

By the time we reached the office, it was like the demons were freed from the confines of hell. They were WILD. Running around, screeching, and climbing on really nice, expensive leather furniture, desks, chairs, and even trying to play with the computer keyboards. I was so proud... They sent us to the boardroom and shut the door. They had a TV in there and put on kids programming. They were very gracious and understanding, but I was anxious and sweating, and even more anxious because I thought I smelled. I was hot. I was flushed. I felt badly for the Wee Ladies as I tried to control them.

We had a condo with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms and a kitchen. We ate out once and stayed in the rest of the time. I had packed lots of food and snacks, so we were more than okay. It worked out pretty well, but come the time to put in a movie, there was no DVD player. They told me there would be a DVD player. Crap. There was a remote, but no machine. Just 2 old VCR players and old TVs. The buttons were sticking and made it difficult to find something to watch. I did stay up to finish watching Two Weeks Notice starring Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock.

The stuff that we managed to pile into the van is astonishing really. I think our realty agent was flabbergasted by all the crap as she tried to entertain the Wee Ladies in the van as Hubby and I ran through a few places. Playpens, bed rails, food and drink, bags of clothes, toys, markers and colouring books, garbage, stuffed animals, towels and blankets, double strollers, and a case of beer. The van was overflowing. It took a special trip into town just to get rid of the Kleenexes and garbage.

The ride home was more trying. The girls were more edgy and irritable on the trip home. We tried to keep them occupied and were ecstatic when they fell asleep. And then Hubby had to go and stop to use the bathroom. As soon as the van slowed down, we were greeted with wailing.

We have to stop a few times while on the road. We need to stop for bathroom breaks and just to let the Wee Ladies stretch their legs a bit. I think that Hubby and I go to the bathroom more than EvieG does. She has a bladder like a camel. I ask and ask if she needs the washroom. She always replies with a no and continues with her colouring.

The Destroyer was next to EvieG and kept passing gas. She found that she would get a rise out of her sisters when she did her thing. And so she kept pushing. Trying to get it all out to continue the laughter. When there was no more left, EvieG leaned over and pulled her finger, hoping that there was a little more to release.

The Destroyer is all about gas. It comes out both ends constantly, much to her sisters' amusement. When it came to her turn in I Spy, EvieG would preface with the whole, I Spy, with my little eye, something that is......and she would get a gassy response. The Destroyer put her lips together and made noises much like her lower end. Her sisters roared with laughter. They also blamed any odd smell on her too.

I thought I taught better manners than that.

I am just happy that it hasn't been a part of the dinner entertainment yet. I know that in due time The Destroyer will captivate her audience at the table.

And give her the opportunity, she might even try it at a restaurant.

We'll just blame it on the fast food.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Thanks a bunch to Nenny With Twins who posted on my behalf on Friday! I love you! You are the best!

Labels: Family

Hey guys,

Nenny With Twins here on behalf of the superhuman DDM who is off to do some very important life business with her dear Hubby. I have been asked to babysit the blog today while she's away so I'm going to do just what I did when I babysat way back in the day: put the kids to bed, order pizza and call some friends.

Here's a great post from the archives that I thought was fitting for today. I thought you might enjoy it and maybe you guys can get some GAWKing in with someone special.

DDM will be back next week with some exciting tales for us.

NWT

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

It's Okay to G.A.W.K

The title of this post reflects what I am telling myself repeatedly today. Go ahead and G.A.W.K. Feel free. And I will. Today Hubby and I are Going Away Without Kids. Yes, you read correctly. It's party time. We are going for, are you sitting down? An ALL-NIGHTER! Whoo hoo! (Confetti falls here and balloons released). I don't think we will pull an all-nighter, but you never know. We will be gone for just slightly over 24 hours. Anything can happen. I can't believe it.

We don't leave the Wee Ladies behind glitch-free.

1. Illness: This ALWAYS happens. I cannot remember the last time we went away leaving behind 3 healthy children. True story. There is someone who always comes down with something. Each Wee Lady has been ill over this past week and The Destroyer came down with a fever last night.

2. The next issue is WORRY. We do not leave without some level of anxiety, especially when there is illness present. Plus, we worry about just about everything. Will someone choke? Will they sleep? Will they behave? Will they brush their teeth? Will they miss us? I am going to give myself an ulcer worrying about my worry. I can't think about it anymore....but it always creeps back into my head.

3. With worry comes the GUILT. My favourite. I feel guilty for leaving the Wee Ladies behind, especially when there is illness present. I feel guilty that the grandparents are taking time out of their busy lives to contend with them....even though they love it. I feel guilty that I am going away to spend money. I feel guilty that I am causing them anxiety by leaving. We just might as well cry all together when we leave. I've done that before. Cried after I've left them.

4. To go anywhere requires strategic planning. I must have the fridge at full capacity, clothes laundered and put away so I don't end up feeling guilty because my Mother-In-Law felt obliged to get it done, notes made regarding the dispensation of medications and other Must Know Facts and Times, diapers topped up, and the house tidied. I don't want her to think I live in squalor. I am packing up The Destroyer because she is staying at my Mom's. So that means packing the playpen and several changes of clothes, medication, thermometer, diapers, wipes, creams, towels (like my Mom doesn't already have most of this stuff), blankies, stuffed animals, soothers, cereal, food, Homogenized milk, bottles.....you get the idea. It goes on and on. It's a lot of work to pull an All-Nighter.

BUT I CAN'T WAIT!

Hubby is going away on business and I am tagging along to give him moral support from Target (pronounced Tar-'zhay). That's right. He will be working and I will be browsing the stocked shelves of the US Super Wal*Mart where they have stuff that we can't buy in Canada. Cookie Crisp cereal, Diet Cherry Coke, Cinnamon Streusel muffin mix by Betty Crocker (they taste like Cinnabons) and Hard Surface cleaner. These things make me very excited. I will be thinking of Hubby the whole time. Correction: I will be worrying about the Wee Ladies the whole time, feeling guilty that I am shopping.

These feelings of anguish combined with bouts of excitement are normal. The excitement is the same feeling you get when you get up on Christmas morning. There is the feeling of anticipation as we go on our All-Nighter adventure. It's like I have never been away before. I have been on a few getaways since the Wee Ladies came into our lives, but Hubby and I have not been away together alone on a real vacation that lasted more than 2 days since 2002. True story. So any time I get with Hubby alone is very exciting. Let's not forget that All Night Sleep+Sleep In=Happy Mom. And I am taking my pillow Paris Hilton style. I never truly sleep soundly without my own pillow.

I know that I have to suck it up and leave the Wee Ladies. I know they will be fine and we will only be gone 5 minutes and they won't even notice we have left. They have fun with the grandparents. It's good for them to spend time with them. I know that it is good for our marriage to have some alone time. As much as I fight with the feelings of guilt and anxiety, I know that all will be well and Hubby and I will be well. It gives us time to breathe and enjoy the quiet together. We will be rejuvenated upon our return. And not in a spa kind of way. I will have cleared my head and enjoyed time to myself without the exfoliated skin, limber muscles and painted nails. I will keep telling myself that it's okay to G.A.W.K. Because it is. I'll just try to not spend that much.

Thanks to the grandparents for looking after the Wee Ladies.

I will not be posting tomorrow. But I will be back on Friday.

I better go shave my legs.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Guest Post

It was EvieG's snack day at her I Can Do Fitness class this week. The parents of all the other kids are either thanking me or cursing me. Either way, I am sure their kids feel fantastic.

I sent EvieG off with a container of muffins. These muffins really pack a punch. They are so rich in fibre that they could cleanse and de-plug the pipes in any garboratorless kitchen. They are a natural Dran-O. These muffins are a guaranteed fix for any bunged up kid. Those who are already naturally flowing just got detoxed completely. You know that the parents are saying, "Holy Moly! What was it you ate? Where's the plunger, honey! It's bigger than ours put together!"

The muffin recipe comes from a muffin recipe book that my MIL used and passed down to me, titled, Muffin Mania that was manually typed in cursive font back in 1982. When sugar was good for you and you were encouraged to use all leftovers in the fridge and all pantry goods to toss together anything. I have a recipe for Bacon-Corn, Mincemeat Rum, and Lemonade muffins. My favourite is the Muffins That Taste Like Donuts recipe. This book is yellowing and the plastic binding is slowly disintegrating. It is fragile and I handle it with care. I don't want it to completely fall apart on me because we use it all the time.

The ladies who made this book baked muffins every Friday morning to get ready for the weekend. They advise us 'gals' to, "pull out the muffin tins and start baking!" We will be so excited with the muffin capers in this book that we will be sure to have them baked and out of the oven by the time the gals come over for 10:00 coffee. I love books like this. The passion expressed to make good food. The female camaraderie. And they stand by their slogan, Muffins- A Sign of the Times: A Healthy Alternative to Junk Foods. They offer tips, of course, and have underlined the most important of all: Never Serve A Cold Muffin! Oops.

The recipe I used was Applesauce Bran. As a sidebar, I want you all to know that as a baker, I NEVER go exactly by the recipe. I always add something, change things, free measure, and mix it how I want. Here is the recipe with what I changed in brackets. Mother Milner would surely give me an A for effort.

1 c. All Bran cereal (I used Bran Buds and put in a cup and a half)
1/4 c. of milk
1 c. applesauce (I used homemade extra chunky for more fibre)
1/3 c. oil (Canola)
1 egg
1 1/2 c. all purpose flour (Whole wheat)
3 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/3 c. brown sugar
(and a little flax seed)

Stir cereal, milk, applesauce, oil, and egg together.

Stir together the dry ingredients (I just mixed it all together in one bowl because a) it cuts down on dishes and messes and b) it saves time).

Add bran mixture to dry ingredients, stirring just to moisten.

Bake at 375 degrees for 15-20 minutes.

The kids supposedly loved them. There were 9 kids and 12 muffins. Only one extra came home.

I wonder if the teacher got any calls asking about the snack that day? Maybe they thought their kid caught a case of a gastrointestinal flu bug.

I just figure I was going to make up for some snacks that had been given in previous weeks, such as chocolate pudding cups, chocolate Teddy Grahams, and animal crackers. At 10:00 am.

I know that the muffin ladies would be proud.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, EvieG

We are our own art gallery over here. People can come by and view the displayed artistic works of the Wee Ladies. Every room has something for your viewing pleasure. The best part is that it is free, but coffees for the curator are always appreciated.

I have just finished preparing for the next exhibition. I went through the house with my pint of paint and a brush and eliminated all old works. In the living room beside the fireplace there was a really nice piece. It was titled, Markings in Ochre, from the year 2008. It was by The Destroyer. It was crayon on matte eggshell, Richmond Gray, Benjamin Moore HC-96. She has been developing her technique and has expanded her style to include Crayola Washable Markers. On the sofa.

On the small wall between the kitchen and the living room there was a piece by another featured local artist. Spark Plug is her name and she specializes in the use of space. Her piece here was titled, An Exploration of the Hand, 2008. Here we saw a magnificent array of blended colours spanning from the wall to the floor. We saw a blue similar to Yves Klein,

and a brilliant red like in Matisse's Red Room.
I found more artwork as I travelled through each room. Works that reflected the raw talent and style of each artist. Each work was covered as we cleared for the next lot of art.

EvieG is an artist who is experimenting with cutting, pasting, and drawing. She favours collage. She has been known to dapple in a variety of mediums, sculpture included. I have been to some houses in the area who have her work hanging or placed in a special spot for all to see. At one point she thought it would be a good idea to rough out her place on the wall in pencil. As curator, I like to have things run by me first for approval and in this instance, I decided it was an inappropriate spot and had her erase the area and scrub it with Baking Soda. I did appreciate her creative integrity though.

As curator of our gallery, I like to have artists who represent a wide variety of expression. I am happy to say that the walls have been covered in various places throughout the house and our gallery has been well received by the public. And now that the gallery is undergoing a major shift, we have had to think about how we will exhibit future works.

I think that Scotch tape and construction paper might be a good option and we can go with a winter theme.

White crayons might be a safe bet too. Then they won't show up as clearly on the walls.

Or maybe Colour Wonder. Then we can have the viewers wonder where the art is.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Family, Fun

I see a pattern emerging. I think I may be at fault. I have been thinking about the vocabulary that The Destroyer has developed. Here is a list of words she can say clearly:

- sucka
- cookie
- sock
- Croc (sounds like cock)
- treat (sounds like teet)
- Daddy
- Mama
- hat
- Grandma
- Grandpa
- Pop
- Timbit
- NO!
- yes
- chocolate (cockat)
- Hi
- Bye bye
- supper
- snack
- please (peas)
- banana (nana)
- juice (juith)
- thank you
- SQUAWK!

If she could live on crap, she gladly would. I give lots of different foods, but for some reason, she loves anything that is refined, sweet, and bad for you and demands it almost constantly. I don't always give in, but sometimes I do. Especially now, when the house still has Halloween candy in it. It is almost gone though, thanks to me.

My mom has a drawer where she keeps the bread, cookies, and candy container for when the Wee Ladies go over for a visit. The first thing The Destroyer does is run through the living room to the kitchen, open the drawer, and present the container of Ju-Jubes to my mother demanding a teet. She does this at all times of the day and could care less that sometimes it may only be 9:30 am. When my mom tells her no, it is too early, The Destroyer throws a conniption. So she has avoided showing my mom the container entirely and goes straight to Grandpa. She has figured out that he will gladly give her a candy, regardless of the time. Spoiled kid. Smart kid.

Here's what's going to happen....she will come to me to ask if she can go out to party with her friends. I will tell her no for whatever reason and she will then take the same question to Hubby, hoping for another answer. Regardless of the response, she will be on her way out the door heading 'somewhere' with a container. I will ask her what she has in the container.

All she will say is, "Cockat milk," which we all know is code for Creme de Cacao.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS This month's Who's DDM? is up! You can go and check it out.

Labels: The Destroyer

The Wee Ladies squawk to get what they want. It is like we are living with a flock of birds.

DDM: Hey! Keep your hands to yourself! We don't hit!

TheD: SQUAWK! Grunt....run away.

EvieG: Don't take my Halloween candy!

Spark Plug: SQUAWK!

DDM: Use your words!

The Destroyer and Spark Plug are playing tug o' war with the Barbie Car....

SSSSSQQQQQUUUUAAAAWWWWWKKKK in unison.

DDM: Hey! That's enough! No more squawking! Where are my ear plugs? And the Extra Strength Advil Liquid-Gels...Fast Release?

The Destroyer is trying to take EvieG's sippy cup of orange juice and it is none other than a screeching, piercing SQUAWK! as EvieG tries to get it back followed by The Destroyer's pull to hang on and the flexing of her thigh muscles.

There is a squawk for candy, a squawk for cookies, a squawk for toys, and even for a toothbrush and toothpaste. They are communicating via the squawk. Especially when it comes to wanting food and sweets, or if something is being held by the other squawker, if something is taken away, or if things just aren't going the right way.

Do they think that they will always get what they want? They think it is the way to be heard. We might give in sometimes, just to shut them up.

I wonder how they will respond to each other as they start fighting over clothes? The SQUAWK plus the SLAM is what I predict. Or rather the MEOW, SCRATCH, HISS, and SLAM.

What will happen when their boyfriend bails on dinner plans? Will they ring him up, SQUAWK into the phone and then hang up?

I am dreading years of the SQUAWK. I won't be able to take it. I will be in the loony bin long before puberty if it keeps up at this rate.

All I am going to hear in my sleep is SQUAWKING. I would be much happier if I could hear crickets.

How can we get to a gentle chirp from the window shattering SQUAWK?

3 separate bedrooms and 3 separate bathrooms.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS The November Who's DDM should be up anytime. You can also go back and reread past Who's DDM's...

Labels: Battle, Family