Doing anything that includes hauling the Wee Ladies around is always a chore. There's buckling, unbuckling, keeping together, keeping hands off merchandise, and it all takes forever. It is Hubby's birthday today and we had a list a mile long to get done in order to surprise him at work. Throw a missing Doggy into the mix and we have automatic panic and chaos.

I got the Wee Ladies winter-dressed. I loaded them into the van. We proceeded to make a stop to get him new ski gloves. I only said, "Stay with Mom," a few hundred times as they ran around in and out of the Burton gear. The only mark we left were some fingerprints on the change room mirror. I threw them back into the van and headed for some caffeine relief. Oh, and some Timbits. I know. I caved.

We continued to the balloon shop where we had a balloon bouquet made for Hubby. Upon our arrival The Destroyer leaned over and pressed the button to open the door on her side of the van. I quickly pressed it again from the other side of the van and pulled her out. We went into get the balloons and during our short, but chaotic stay, EvieG learned not to try and blow up balloons we hadn't ordered. So a balloon covered with 5 year old cooties was purchased using money from her money bank. The Destroyer tried to play with balloon sculptures that were waiting to be picked up. Wouldn't that have been fun if she had popped one of those?

I placed the order and returned them all to the van so I could pay up and easily carry out the balloons without my entourage.

We made one other stop before heading home for a snack.

When we arrived home, I was unloading the Wee Ladies and noticed something potentially disastrous. The Destroyer's stuffed Doggy, which is her version of a security blanket was not in the van. I know she had taken it with her. I know I remember seeing her cuddling it. Where did it go? I searched the van high and low. Under the seats in the Timbit box. No Doggy.

This was bad. So bad because I have no back up in case it should get lost. EvieG has Lovesy, one of those Ty Pluffies that she can't live without. She sticks her finger through the tag and sucks her thumb as she is falling asleep.
I bought 3 extras on eBay to keep just in case we lost them. And she has lost it once, so we are on number 2.

Spark Plug has a chenille blanket she got from a good friend of mine when she was a baby. It comes from Toy R Us and she lives for this thing. She calls it her Kiki (pronounced kee kee). I made a special trip to Toys R Us to buy back up. I have 2 others. She sleeps with 2 and there is one still in the package. So if she ever loses the original, she has another already worked in. I have it all figured out.

But leave it to The Destroyer to have a dog with long legs and arms and a big, blue bow that she can't sleep without. There is no duplicate for this thing. And Doggy was confirmed to be officially lost. Crap.

So I hurried them to finish their snacks and then piled them all into the van. Again. We drove like mad back to the balloon store. As I was pulling into my original parking spot, EvieG and I both spotted Doggy. Along with her hat. EvieG shouted, "Look! There's Doggy in the snow bank! And her hat! It didn't get stolen!"

You can imagine the feeling of relief that came over me.

I was seriously panicked over this. I didn't want The Destroyer to lose her true love. That would be a horrible loss for us all. Not only would she be devastated, but we would have to suffer her wrath. The screaming and stomping and crying would have been hard to deal with and no doubt would have led to more Timbits.

I had already had a Plan B ready to execute if Doggy wasn't in the dirty brown, salt saturated snow. I was going to run to every store within a one block radius and ask store employees if anyone had been kind enough to bring a stuffed dog into their place of business. The whole town would for sure know me by then end of this caper. Thank goodness it didn't get to that.

I gave Doggy back to The Destroyer. She squealed with excitement and gave her a tight hug. I felt like a true hero. And then she looked at me and held Doggy out towards me and said, "Yuck, foot!"

You're kidding me. I just swooped in to save the day like a grand super human with x-ray vision and the thanks I get is a complaint that Doggy's feet are wet and dirty?

I turned around with my knuckles clenched around the steering wheel and stared out in front of me. I put it in reverse and drove away in silence. No appreciation. And there will be worse eventually. I will have sat in front of the computer or on hold trying to get tickets to the coolest concert ever and I will end up with amazing seats, to which they will say, "You couldn't get us any closer?" And then I will say, "Well, if that isn't good enough for you, I will go with Auntie Lisa, Auntie Missy, and Nenny with Twins. Oh, and I will be sure to tell you all about our VIP access after we get home."

Carrying on to Hubby's office with balloons, cupcakes, and a gift, I rallied the Wee Ladies together as we headed into his building. A lovely lady on the street helped me keep them all together. We went in to surprise Hubby. We were on-the-edge-of-our-seats-excited only to be told that he was not there.

What?What?What?

I told him this morning that he needed to be at the office over lunch and that I would bring his suit jacket to him!

I even called his boss two days ago to get permission to bring my entourage to the office!

He forgot and ended up having a meeting out of the office.

We waited for a while and one of his colleagues graciously helped keep the Wee Ladies contained in one area. She gave them paper, markers, and even helped EvieG blow her nose. Amazing.

We waited and waited some more. We left the gifts and went home.

After all that work and drama, it ends like this?

Yes, it ends just like that. In complete and utter disappointment.

It is now time to make and eat cake.

Happy birthday, Hubby! We love you even though you pulled a guy move and only listened to part of what I said! I know 'something came up' and you had a meeting and that's okay! We will forgive you! Over some double chocolate cake.

Don't forget EvieG wants a cupcake!

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Have a fun weekend! Thanks for reading!

Labels: Battle, Chores, DDM, Drama, EvieG, Hubby, Nenny with Twins, Spark Plug, The Destroyer

As I complete my jobs as CEO of damage control I realize that our house and the Wee Ladies have a serious case of the blimey grimies. Everywhere I turn there are stickies, gloppies, and greasies. Oh, the squalor.

The kitchen table and chairs are disgusting. The chairs stick together and to the floor. The backs of the chairs have little hand prints of honey. The yogurt is dried on and under the table, like a wad of gum. Somehow the grimies get on the legs of the chairs too.

The fridge handle, the drawers, and all doorknobs have been covered by banana hands. The light switches in all rooms, the jacuzzi tub dial included, feel like they have been wiped down in pudding.

Cheerios and dried Corn Flakes make trails through the dining area and kitchen. I find Cheerios under the pillows and stuck in the couch. Today I found a chunk of chocolate chip cookie under the computer desk and bits of Red River cereal behind the toilet.

I blamed the dirty toilet seat on Hubby, but he was having none of it. He is adamant that the seat is not because of him, but rather a recently potty-trained Spark Plug.

The blimey grimies are annoying, yet amazing. It astonishes me how much grime there is in one house. The Wee Ladies take it everywhere. They carry it on themselves too. I have often referred to taking them out in public with breakfast face. I have admittedly wiped them off with my thumb and saliva. Gross, I know, but a good way to get rid of the grimies.

They sometimes walk around all afternoon with yogurt face, or as Nenny with Twins says, banana face. At first the banana is hardly noticeable, but after a while of being exposed to the dust filled air, the banana browns. If you go out in public, you for sure have to resort to the thumb-lick and wipe.

There are times when we haven't had to go out anywhere and I have made the call to put them to bed without a bath, leaving clumped yogurt chunks in their hair. I promise myself to deal with it tomorrow.

So I admit I am partially responsible for the blimey grimy that exists in my house. Sure. But now that I am CEO of damage control, I always get rid of it, even if it takes a week to get to.

Hubby contributes to the grimy in his own way, exempt from the toilet. When he thinks the Wee Ladies need a good moisturizing he puts them in a bath of baby oil. This is his way of being efficient. And for the next 2 days, or until they have another bath free of baby oil, they wander around with grease-head. Slicked hair, like the kid in class who never bathed.

The mother-of-the-year award certainly gets placed around my neck as I take the Wee Ladies out in public with breakfast face, hands covered in dried banana, and slicked hair that no one knows is baby oil. A vision of attentive parenting.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, DDM, Hubby, Nenny with Twins

Nenny with Twins and I have the same dream. And we continue to work to excel and make it a reality. We try not to give up. We try to persevere, we try to practice. Because we truly believe that practice will make close to perfect. At least practice will get us from an F to a B. We hereby declare and publicly vow to do our best- to properly and successfully fold a fitted sheet. After that declaration, I take it all back. It will never happen.

We cannot for the life of us fold a fitted sheet. We have been working on it for years. Even when I was a kid, I remember my mom and even my Nana showing me how to do it. My mom laid the sheet on the ground, folded the corners in a way that made the sheet a nice square and then proceeded to fold it into a flat, wonderful, straight 4 sided quadrilateral.

And can I do this? Nope.

Exhibit A: The poor excuse for folded fitted sheets

Look at these pathetic bundles of fabric, all wrinkled and well, pathetic.

No matter how hard I try, or how many times I convince myself that 'this will be time I finally get it right', it never happens. And so I continue to hear the words of my mom and Nana, plus the words of my great-grandmother tsk-ing in my ear from the heavens beyond, "Now, you can do better than that. Take your time. Don't get frustrated. Maybe you should get out the iron for once."

Instead, I ignore them and roll the sheet into a ball and throw it into the back of the closet, making sure that I put a flat sheet on top to flatten the fitted sheet. And then I shut the door. Loudly.

I currently sit at an F in the folding of fitted sheets. I truly suck at it. And even though I want to get it right, I just don't think I am capable of achieving a higher grade.

I don't have the time or patience to lay it all out on the floor and fold it. Because we all know what would happen. The Wee Ladies would come along and start rolling and running across it. They would pretend it was their picnic blanket, or the sheet for their Princess Tea Party. They would bring all of their stuffed animals and dolls in and sit them around the perimeter with cups of water in front of them. And then the water would spill and there would be cookie crumbs all over the place. Which means the fitted sheet would have to be washed again. And then I would have to try and fold it all over again.

Not in this lifetime.

The fitted sheets that are behind the door in the linen closet, stay in a huge ball behind the door of the linen closet.

And my elders can shake their heads and fingers at me all they want. At least I can fold the towels and pillow cases. In rectangles or in rolls! Man, I'm good. And I didn't even have to haul out the iron!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, Chores, Nenny with Twins

Click here to check out an article by Deena Waisberg at Reader's Digest.ca quoting DDM!

The article is titled, The Feminine Side of Blogging.

We are so excited over here!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Announcements

It's not like I have an extensive collection of make up and product. I have some brushes to apply some eye shadow, cheek colour, and mascara. The eye shadow has probably long expired, just like my lip glosses. It doesn't matter to the Wee Ladies. They gravitate to the product. Especially Spark Plug. And she will come to me when she feels she needs a little colour or a pick-me-up and demand, "I need some wips."

She looks at me with her big, blue eyes and puckers her lips. "I need wips, Momma." Translation: I need some lips. I would like some lipstick, gloss, and I might even tolerate Vaseline. Anything. Put it on my face so I can prance around like a Disney princess.

When we were moving in and getting settled, I noticed Spark Plug had disappeared. It was too quiet. I went upstairs to locate her. I went into the bathroom and saw red everywhere. She had found my make up bag and of course, the bright red lipstick that I bought for a Halloween party. She had it all over her mouth, cheeks, and forehead. The best part was that she had kissed the mirror. Twice. So among all the mirror smudge, were two adorable kissy marks.

She loves make up and product. She looks in the mirror. She lives in her princess nighties. She wants her hair in piggy tails. She is a girly girl. And I am not. This is in her. I don't make a big deal about making sure my make up is applied perfectly and I sure as hell don't blow dry my hair. I get up, do the basics, and go. Her girly nature baffles me.

I have Vaseline in every room. She picks at her lips when they are not plump and moist. Throughout the day she will ask for some wips. Once I lather her up in petroleum jelly, she puckers, rubs her lips together, looks at me, and then cocks her head to the side and bats her eyes at me.

Yes, darling, you are a vision.

This is rubbing off onto my rough and tumble tomboy. The Destroyer is now becoming interested in hair accessories and my make up bag. Yesterday I caught her sucking on my eyebrow brush. And if she is standing nearby Spark Plug's Vaseline application, she either tries to stick her fingers in the jar, or she points to her mouth wanting some wips too. When I move in to put some on her, she opens her mouth wide so instead of moistening her lips, she gets a mouthful of the greasy stuff. I have found her sitting on the bathroom counter with Vaseline all through her hair and on her face as she tried to lube herself up. It took about a week to de-grease all the places she touched.

EvieG could care less about wips. I tried to put a chap stick in her pocket to take to school. She never uses it. She would walk around with cracked, dry lips and never complain. I have to make sure she has some on when it is cold and dry.

So far Spark Plug has not asked for any wips today. It is just a matter of time.

I have to make sure my product is properly put away, otherwise they will get into it. Just like they did with the President's Choice Decadent chocolate chip cookies this morning.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, EvieG, Spark Plug, The Destroyer

My monthly column at the Canadian bargain hunting site, Scarlett Lounge is up today and runs until next Sunday!

Click here to check it out!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Announcements

Scarlett Lounge is a great Canadian bargain hunting site. They have lots of good deals to tell you about.

They are having a contest. A contest to win a real, authentic Gucci bag!

In order to enter, you have to sign up for their newsletter and fill out a quick shopping survey.

It is open to all Canadian residents.

The winner will be chosen at random and you can only enter once.

Contest closes March 1, 2009.

Click here to enter.

Good luck!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Contests

I learned this weekend that my temperament is exactly the same as when I was 13. We took the Wee Ladies to meet my grade 7 teacher, whom I have kept in touch with over the years. Taking the Wee Ladies anywhere all together can be tricky, but taking them to meet someone important makes me a little nervous.

My grade 7 teacher, Mr. McG, made a big impact on me. He and I had a fantastic rapport, he was supportive, encouraging, and pushed me to do my best. He figured me out right from go and knew how to work with me. Working with 13 year olds is challenging. We did lots of neat stuff in his class and worked through some really fun science projects.

I have not stayed in touch with that many teachers over the years, but Mr. McG is someone who I have enormous respect for and who, even to this day, can keep me grounded. He is a true teacher and now I can say, a great friend.

I wanted the Wee Ladies to make a good first impression because I care about what Mr. McG thinks. Even though he is easy-going and made us feel comfortable right from go, I didn't want the Wee Ladies running through their house smashing things to bits. I kept an eye on them and my ears open to their whereabouts. I tried to keep them under my thumb.

Mr. McG sensed my nervousness and just as he did in grade 7, he said, "Relax. Settle down. They are fine. You are fine. It is all fine. Remember what I used to tell you? You have to relax- we don't want you to get an ulcer." We burst into a fit of laughter.

He told me way back when I was 13 to relax. And here we are 20 years later and he is still telling me the same thing!

I felt myself getting worked up, just as I used to do when I had deadlines approaching. When I want things to run smoothly, and I feel that there is a potential for disaster, I get a bit wound up. But leave it to Mr. McG to calm me down, just as he did at school.

I don't completely freak-out when I get wound up. I just sort of get tense. My shoulders and back tighten, I move quickly. I talk and ask questions. I give the Wee Ladies orders. I just have to remember to breathe and think that everything will be fine. Sometimes things are going to be out of my control.

And they were on Saturday. We took the Wee Ladies into a house sales office to check out the new development going in nearby. While we were talking to the staff, The Destroyer found the big candle surrounded by glass that was perched on a pedestal. She knocked it over and it smashed all over the floor. I was mortified.

I got a little wound up and sent them out to the van with Hubby. I apologized profusely. They said that kids will be kids and that it was alright; that they should have taken items like that away knowing kids would be around. I thought differently. I took a bottle of wine to them later as an apology gift. I wanted them to know that I was sorry my kid made a mess of the office and that I respected their place of business enough to tell them so.

And so I will probably continue to get fired up at times, just as I always have, and the Wee Ladies will continue to be kids. I know I cannot control everything they do and that accidents will happen.

I am going to keep telling myself this. I am going to remember to breathe and try to let it go. Because it will all be fine. We will have little hiccups along the way and that is the way it is. I have to tell myself that these glitches are not worth getting worked up over.

Kids will be kids. And I will not let that be the source of my ulcer.

Thanks to Mr. McG and his lovely wife for inviting us over. We can't wait to pick apples. At least that will be outside and they can't do that much damage.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, DDM, Responsibility

My theme song for today is Glass Tiger's, Don't Forget Me When I'm Gone, from 1986. You can see the video here.

I am such a hypocrite. I always talk about how I would jump at the chance to go off and do something on my own without the Wee Ladies. How I would gladly take a trip, several days away, even one night. Or how I would easily let the Wee Ladies stay with family for a few days while we were to G.A.W.K. I have done this on a very small scale. But I always miss the Wee Ladies to bits. And I sometimes even get lonely without them and then feel the need to rush home to see them before the time away is over.

EvieG has gone for her Sparks sleepover tonight. And if I think back, the idea of the sleepover seemed fantastic. The actual day and event arrives and I get all emotional. Wimp.

DDM: Are you sure you want to go to the sleepover?

EvieG: Yes, mom, I do.

DDM: If you want, you only have to stay until later and then I can come and pick you up. If you want....

EvieG: No, I want to stay for the whole thing!

DDM: Really? Ok, then. You won't miss me too much?

EvieG: I will miss you, but I really want to go for the whole thing. I want to have marshmallows and a campfire, eat snacks, and play games with all the other Sparks.

DDM: Well, that is great, honey. You will have fun. I want you to have a great time. But if you ever feel homesick or uncomfortable, just call me and I will come and get you. It doesn't matter what time. So you are sure then?

EvieG: Yyyeeessss, mom.

I am hearing myself say all this. And I don't want to discourage her from wanting to go and be independent. I support her and we even made cookies for the big event. But I realize that I am not ready to let her go just yet. And I am not ready for her to let me go just yet. I am having separation anxiety. Leaving her on her own is a big deal. It's like I am dropping her off at her first real party and staying up until all hours waiting for the call asking to be picked up. Or staying up all night wondering what is going on at the party.

And so it begins. This anxiety as I wonder. Just like my mom did many nights, especially the time when I told her I was going to the drive-in with friends, but neglected to tell her it was the all night drive-in. I can only imagine the anxiety she experienced when I pulled into the driveway at 5 am.

And we have three Wee Ladies to go through.

If I am anxious now, what is it going to be like when they are dating, hanging around with shady characters, driving, and being vague, only telling me bits and pieces of their plans?

GPS monitoring systems? Would I dare?

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM

I have added a new product to the Great Ideas section!

Go and see what it is!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Announcements

I have moved way beyond my role as damage control manager. I used to be in charge of quality control. I have now been promoted to CEO of damage control. My job is so much more demanding that it requires a lot more time, effort, and resources.

In our old house I had cleaning help once every fortnight. Bi-weekly, our amazing cleaning help would come and give our place the what-for. She even straightened the beds all resort/hotel like. It was awesome. Since we have moved and I have automatically been promoted to take on more tasks. I have so much more responsibility now to keep our hacienda clean and tidy.

I miss my cleaning lady. A lot.

I knew I had a great thing in our last house. She did a bang up job. But I have to say, I got a little lazy in the cleaning department. I did manage and I was comfortable with my role in quality control. I kept up the surface maintenance well. But I was far from being thorough. It's because I depended on my cleaning help.

I am on my own again. Just like I was before kids. Cleaning my apartment before children was easy. It is a whole different story today trying to clean up after a family of five. It takes so much more time!

I have declared Thursdays my cleaning day. And as I go through the place, I have noticed something. I am a bit anal. Now that I am only depending on myself to keep this place spic and span, I am cleaning every corner, nook, and cranny. I have noticed that I am even cleaning the walls. I pay more attention to the hard to get places. And I am using products that smell super clean. So that when I am done, I can take a whiff and give myself a pat on the back.

I have spent about 3 hours cleaning in between taking care of the Wee Ladies. And the thing is, everyone is going to have to tip toe around here, being careful not to mess anything up or get any crumbs on the floor. Or else. Or else I will make it known to all as I shout from the rooftop, I just spent half the day cleaning this place, and you are going to treat it well, with respect, and you will not mess things up! You will promise to keep this house clean and crumb free. You will eat at the table only. You will remove all shoes and boots at the door. You will flush the toilet when you are done and bring your dishes to the sink. You will pick up after yourself and keep your bed neat and tidy. For one week! Until I have to do it all over again!

By the time the Wee Ladies go to bed, the place looks like it hasn't been cleaned in a month.

I wish I could keep it clean all the time. I know that it is an unrealistic request with three Wee Ladies, a Hubby, and a Wee Westie.

I sometimes ask Hubby to help me tidy up at night, but somehow we both forget because we are too tired. And the next morning, I come downstairs and immediately get annoyed because I have to start the day tidying from the day before. It is so irritating. So in between my Thursday cleaning day, I continue my role as damage control manager.

I am not a fan of cleaning from top to bottom. I do not enjoy scrubbing toilets.

But I love the smell and the feeling of a clean house after I am done. There is nothing like truly knowing that the place is clean.

And so overall I am okay with my promotion to CEO of damage control. It's a big job, but I will do it.

But I do look forward to the day when I can have someone come and help me again. Maybe even once a week! Wouldn't that be ideal?

Hey, I can dream.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Chores

It doesn't matter how many play phones we have around here, the Wee Ladies always want the real thing. I've tried the play cell phones, portable phones, and even the old school Fisher-Price phone with the googly eyes. They still want the real phone. And at the press of the bleeping button, I am forever getting a call from base. This bleeping is one way the Wee Ladies demand my attention. It is also the way I find a missing phone.
A call from base is another way of telling me to get my fat ass going. There are a few different circumstances in which the Wee Ladies press the button at the portable phone base.

1. The morning alarm: We have the base in our room. And so once the Wee Ladies have finally become fed up with my insisting just 5 more minutes of cozy sleep time, they press the button. This always guarantees my departure from bed to turn it off.

2. Get off the phone: I have talked on the phone for long periods of time. During this time, I can still conduct my mom duties relatively smoothly. It just means I am not devoting my every fibre to the Wee Ladies. I am clearly distracted. So as a way to tell me that they need some attention, the Wee Ladies give me a call from base. This way, I hang up and carry on with them and they are no longer annoyed by my half-assed mommying.

3. Stop surfing for celebrity gossip: Sometimes, I will spend some time looking up the latest headlines. Not world news, but instead, celebrity news- the real news. If the Wee Ladies grow tired that I am not giving them my 110%, I will receive a special call from base.

A call from base also means other things too. It means that a portable phone may be missing in action. I might see that one of the other phones has Line in use across the screen, which means the search for the missing phone is on. There have been times when the Wee Ladies have called people we know. And I never find out about it until I am told by the person on the other end of the line. The Wee Ladies forget to hang up and then they hide the phone. I have made a call from base in search of a missing phone off the hook. It sometimes miraculously appears, or I find it down in the depths of the couch along with old, hard banana peels and coffee change.

Call from base is a signal. A signal that I need to refocus. I need to pay attention to my actions and the actions of the Wee Ladies. I have to make sure they aren't getting into too much trouble and I also have to ensure that I am not wasting too much time doing things I should be doing at another time. Like looking at house porn.

I don't want the Wee Ladies to be like me and do something silly, like try and call the White House in an attempt to talk to the president.

I did that. For real. And I made it to one of Reagan's aides.

Or call the 1-967... story time number where you can listen to the Velveteen Rabbit for only $1.00 a minute.

Or something even worse....

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Happy birthday, Uncle Jeff! We love you!

Labels: DDM, Responsibility

Watching President Obama speak reminds me of what is important. The values of old can bring us all together as we strive to achieve success and progress. It is great that he will work to carry the United States forward which will hopefully benefit everyone. It is about time we get back to our roots and use our core values and integrity to forge ahead. It is important that we get back to basics in order to continue building.

That is what we have done in our family. We stripped away the extras and sized down as we relocated to travel down a new path in the search for positive, well rounded growth and success. We are starting over. And I know we will come out stronger in the end.

We made a choice a while ago to live thin so I could stay home with the Wee Ladies. There have been no trips, no luxuries, no extra 'stuff'. But it has been worth it, even though it has been challenging. We have tried to live by our core values and are raising our girls to understand these personal beliefs and fundamentals that we feel are so important.

And so I am really going back to the roots. Even my hair is going to go through a transition back to basics. I am going back to my roots, my natural colour. My old colours and bleached out tired hair will be rejuvenated. It will start over too.

We are going through a complete overhaul as we strive to achieve what we can to succeed and work to establish the life we want for our family.

It feels good and I am looking forward to watching how it all will turn out. For everyone.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Reflection

I don't ever remember really feeling the freezing cold when I was little. I remember being cold, but dealing with it. Kids are tough crackers and when playing in the snow, they could care less if they had frostbite. I watch the Wee Ladies play and tumble in the snowbanks without too much complaining.

We have good mittens, but not great ones. We were out the other night and Spark Plug was having a jolly time sliding and jumping around a huge snowbank wearing her not-so-wonderful fleece mittens. We have just come out of a major deep freeze in this part of the world and it was cold. It was way below zero degrees Celsius and the Wee Ladies didn't seem to care. EvieG and Spark Plug played while The Destroyer wandered around pulling the sleigh.

It was I who pulled the chute on them. Knowing that their hands were not covered in super duper snowmobile mittens, I told Hubby it was time to take them back to the van, fearing potential frostbite.
Because apparently frostbite is when you can no longer feel your fingers. There was no complaining of pain, no comments about being cold. I knew I didn't want to be that person to bring their three frostbitten Wee Ladies into the ER and then have the entire hospital staff say under their breath, "What a moron! Doesn't she know to keep her kids inside when it is Arctic like temperatures? Should we be calling CAS?"

We high-tailed it for the van. It was a horror show trying to get them in. They would not go in. As they stiffened into straight 2 by 4's, I literally had to pick them up and throw them into their car seats, breaking the boards in the mid-section, as they threw the best of the best conniption. They wanted to play outside in the snow! Didn't I see that? Awwwww, mom!!!

I remember being the same way as a kid. I know I didn't care that I had icicles hanging from my nostrils, and numb fingers and toes. I could care less that my neck-warmer was drenched in bad 10 year old hot dog breath, or that my butt was stinging from sitting in my snow pod that I had just spent a half hour making. And I even persevered through sitting with my tongue glued to the metal fence post. Remind me to tell you the story about the time I put my tongue to the safety bar on the chair lift at the ski hill. That is a good one.

We made it through and our kids will too. They will enjoy all of these experiences just like we did. They will survive the cold and come out virtually unscathed. They might have to leave a few tongue cells behind at some point, but they will have fun. And they will always remember it too.

The best part is that they will always have mom there to bring them inside to where it's warm and cozy, with a hot chocolate waiting.

Or a Little Hotties hand warmer ready to put in their mittens and boots as she sends them back out into the frosty wintry world.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Family, Fun

My sister-in-law has just launched a new honeymoon registry web site. It's called, Honeymoon-Registry.ca.

Click here to check it out.

She and my brother were married in October. It was a fab weekend. EvieG was a cute flower girl.

Since she and my brother already had a place together, they didn't need to register for new toasters and dinnerware. And so they looked to see if they could register for their honeymoon. This is something that can make a good trip turn into an incredible trip. By registering for various activities, or fun couple things, the trip is guaranteed to be what all honeymoons are supposed to be- and then some.

They couldn't find any company in Canada that did this sort of thing. And so they made one themselves. I am so proud of them.

Buying a couple's massage, breakfast in bed, or a snorkeling trip for the couple is a great option for guests, instead of buying them another blender, or something they don't need.

It is a great idea and I encourage you to check it out and pass it on to anyone you know who is engaged or almost engaged. Even if you just want to see what it's all about, go for it.

In this day, when so many couples are living together and have what they need, this business provides people with more options.

Have a fun weekend!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Announcements

Getting a library card is more difficult than changing your driver's license in this town.

In this mighty cold weather, I bundled the Wee Ladies in their winter gear and set out to check out the local library. I wanted to get all signed up with our own cards and I wanted EvieG to have her own too.

We found the library and parked the van. I got out to see if it was open. It was 9:40 am. Nope. Doors open at 10:00 am. And so we drove around for a few minutes as I became better acquainted with the town.

We arrived back at the library just as the doors were unlocked. I hauled the Wee Ladies out of the van and through the front doors. We were directed to the children's area which was a big, open space with ample room to sprint around, which The Destroyer did very well.

We stayed long enough to toss a few books here and there and replace some in their improper spots. The librarian was nice enough to answer my questions but was likely thinking how much longer until they leave.

She directed me back to the front desk to get set up with a card. Off we went as I chased Spark Plug and The Destroyer through the aisles of books, listening to them screech the whole time. Good thing it wasn't busy.

I asked the librarian for a library card.

"I need to see some proof of residence," she stated.

"Well, we have only been here a week and I don't have anything like that yet."

"A bill?"

"Again, we have been here a week and I don't have any bills to pay yet....I'd like to keep it that way just a little while longer."

"A driver's license? Or any other kind of statement....a lease agreement?"

I am looking befuddled at this point.

A lease agreement? She wants to see a legal document to grant me a library card?

"Ummmmm, no. None of that."

"Well, I will have to see something before I can give you a card."

And so I rounded up the troops and headed out the door.

I called Hubby, all frustrated. He was heading out to run an errand for work. I picked him up and he dropped me off at the driver's license office so I could do it alone without the Wee Ladies running around and then purposely failing someone who was writing their driving test because they decided to press the wrong key on the keyboard. And good thing he was around to save the day because I wasn't going to have gone out with the Wee Ladies all bundled up and not accomplish anything. If I got them all dressed for nothing, I would have for sure resorted to Timbits.

I went inside thinking I would be turned away for this too. But I needed some proof to get my library card!

"Hi there. I would like to change my address on my license, please."

"Ok. What is the new address?"

I recited it to her.

"Thanks."

Out came a piece of paper from the printer. She handed it to me.

I asked, "Is this it? Don't you need to see some other documentation or anything to prove I live here?"

"No. This is your temporary license and your updated card will come in the mail."

"That's it? I asked, again befuddled.

"That's it!"

"You know, it is easier to get your license changed in this town than it is to get a library card," I declared.

"I know! That library is pretty strict with who they let in!"

I left there thinking, I hope I am not out of the circle of trust before I even attempt to get in!

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: DDM, Mission

It has been a most monumental day. After five years of hard work it is time to celebrate the completion of another step in our journey. We have finally signed on the dotted line.

Way back when, I mentioned how Hubby is an inventor. Five years ago he conceived an idea for an automotive product. And so over the past few years, we have (I helped out with this) researched, developed, filed for a patent, was granted patent pending, and then called on someone with more know-how to help out.

Today we signed a licensing agreement with one of the world's largest science based research and development corporations. Huge.

We are so excited. It has been a busy day and one that we have been thinking about for a long time. This project has been pretty exciting. It has been an amazing experience as we have gone through all of the stages necessary to develop a product and bring it this far.

It is only going to get more thrilling as all necessary parties get more involved. Next up is working with the manufacturer, distributor, and marketing. And media will also play a part down the road.

I will be able to get more detailed as time goes on, but for now, I can tell you that we licensed a product to a massive company today.

And it is a really incredible feeling.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Announcements

One thing that does not come with you on a move is babysitters. We had babysitters in our other town. A few to choose from. And now we have none. I am on a mission. A mission to search out and locate some babysitters.

We had fantastic babysitters. Teenagers who were great with the Wee Ladies. One babysitter always brought amazing crafts in her babysitting bag of tricks. The Wee Ladies adored her; I adored her. And we will miss her.

We also had 3 girls across the street who could walk over anytime. They were great too.

And so we start from scratch. It is hard. I have been asking around. Any contact that I have so far, I am asking for some help with this. I have even asked Sparkle at EvieG's Sparks group. She is on it. And a few moms are going to try and help too.

Until we find someone, there will be no date night. Or mom time, unless it occurs after working hours or on weekends.

So we take the Wee Ladies with us to eat out. And what a relaxing time that is. There is nothing like watching The Destroyer reach her Restaurant-Sitting-Threshold. It is like the button shuts off and she checks out. Before we are done our pints. And so we usually ask for the bill in advance so we can chug, pay, and fly. Because it gets to a point where you can only run around the bar so many times. I had to laugh when The Destroyer went up to the bar and tried to climb up to be seen by the bartender.....I thought I heard her ask for a martini with an extra olive. He thought it was a pint of beer with a straw.

We will do anything to keep them sitting at the table and occupied while we wait for the meal and try to eat. We break out the crayons, hand them a wet nap to play with, a spoon, even the ketchup bottle. But last night, I pulled out the last resort- the cell phone. Hubby got his playlist going for EvieG, and Spark Plug was playing with the camera on mine. I am sure the last picture stored in the memory is one of my nostrils as I approach to grab the phone. I should get it blown up into an 8x10 glossy. Today I had to wipe it down because it is so gooey from little chicken finger and plum sauce covered hands.

Someone please help me find a babysitter! If I can't get out alone between the hours of 9 am and 5 pm, or be able to go for dinner without children, I might just have to go and get a box of Timbits and eat away my disappointment. We don't want that.

It just goes to show that a babysitter is a really great thing to have on hand. And you really notice the difference when they are not around or available.

I have a call into the Pathfinders group with the Girl Guides of Canada. Surely, one of the girls has her babysitting certification.

If we find one, I hope she brings over a box of Girl Guide cookies.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Family, Mission

The Destroyer knows what she wants. She is the third baby and she fights hard to get what and where she needs to go. She is indeed The Destroyer. And she leaves a wake of destruction in her path. If her path or her focus is disturbed, she clearly communicates her disapproval. By grunting. She can easily speak and voice her annoyances, but lately she prefers to grunt.

She will grunt at me, Hubby, and especially at her sisters. She even grunts at the dog. Her grunts coincide with the flexing of her thigh muscles to really get the point across. She sometimes clenches her fists to really stand her ground.

EvieG: Mom! Destroyer took my puzzle piece and she won't give it back!

TheD: GGGrrrrr.

DDM: Destroyer, that is EvieG's. Pass it back to her, please.

TheD: Ggrr.

As she clenches tightly to the puzzle piece, I try to pry it from her.

DDM: Ta-ta!

TheD: GGGGRRRRrrrrr!

Finally I take it. She flips her lid and runs off, even though I try to give her something to replace it with. As she runs by the coffee table, she takes the last half of her Arrowroot. She takes another couple of steps and our Wee Westie Basil stops her in her tracks. He nears the cookie as it is just the right height for him to swipe.

The Destroyer flexes her thigh muscles, stares him down, and hold the cookie for dear life.

TheD: gggggrrrrrrRRRR!

She continues on her way, while Basil runs in the opposite direction with his head hung low.

This is a kid who will make any bully regret the day they were born if they ever for a slight second think about stealing her lunch money. Or food.

She will grunt at them, steam spewing from her ears and nose, as she sends them running home to their mommies with their tails between their legs, begging for warm milk and cookies.

You mess with The Destroyer, you will get the horns.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, The Destroyer

I have posted some more reviews in the DDM's Try Ons section. Just scroll on down to where you left off the last time. If you have never checked this area out, well then, head on over!

Oh, and this month's Who's DDM? is up too.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Announcements

Living in this new place is going to test my ability to be 'green'. As I mentioned, we have down-sized slightly in square-footage. We have to re-examine our use of space and resources. We are also limited in our weekly amount of waste disposal. There needs to be a slight family restructuring in our reducing, reusing and recycling.

The community we have moved to is idle and pesticide free. They also recycle everything and limit households to two bags of garbage a week. You have to pay per bag if you have more. Now this may be a standard for many places, but from where we came from you could have 5 bags a week. I didn't always max out, in fact most weeks, I was pretty good. We recycled there too, and I was pretty conscious of doing what I could, but now this will call into question whether or not I can be even more diligent and thorough in terms of efficient garbage disposal.

With kids, it is easy to produce excess waste. And when you move and purge like we did, well then, it is very easy to generate a lot of garbage.

Now that we are settling in to our new digs and community, we have to shift our ways to become more aware of what we throw away, where, and be conscious all the time of how much we are getting rid of. I don't want to have to pay every week for extra bags. And I don't want to drive 20 minutes to the next town to the dump that accepts household garbage. And so I will have our blue boxes ready to be filled to maximum capacity.

We have a small apartment size stackable washer and dryer. This is a big switch from our jumbo Maytag Neptune set; the one with the washer that grew mould in the rubber sealer around the door. The loads have to be smaller now. I have to be more efficient. I will try to wash only what I have to. We need to make a family pact to reuse towels a couple more times than we have. We have to stop tossing every piece of worn clothing in the hamper. We need to get more mileage out of what we wear because I can rack up the miles by carrying a laundry basket up and down stairs 80 million times a day. No thanks. And I will obviously wash the clothes that are stinky. I almost promise not to let the Wee Ladies go out looking like grubs.

In our old house, we had the laundry area beside our bedroom. It was so easy to toss a load in on the way by and then dump it onto our bed to fold. I hardly had to go anywhere. Now that it is downstairs, we need to be more aware of what is dirty and whether or not it is absolutely necessary to wash.

We (I) have some work to do. I am not totally gluttonous when it comes to waste, but I know that there is definitely room to improve.

The kids will get on board. And Hubby will too. It is the towels he needs to reuse for longer.

There is going to be a learning curve as we immerse ourselves in our new community.

And I am so ready for the challenge.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS January's Who's DDM? is up and running. Check it out!

Labels: Responsibility

We have entered a new phase with Spark Plug. This phase requires strategic thinking and physical strength. It is a chore and a battle to get Spark Plug dressed anymore.

Lately Spark Plug has been overly obsessed with her nighties. Her pink one with the Disney Princesses in their Paris Hilton poses, her blue one with Dora and Boots smiling awkwardly, and her mint green nightie with Tinkerbell glancing with flirty eyes. It is the flirty eyes that Spark Plug uses to get what she wants, especially from Hubby. She bats her eyelashes and delivers a perfect toothless smile. I should get her an agent.

She wants to be in these nighties everyday, all day. And to try and get her dressed takes as long as it did to get all three Wee Ladies decked out in their winter gear this morning. EveiG was almost late for school.

I get out her clothes and tell her to come and get dressed. She throws a conniption and painfully shouts, "NO!" at the top of her lungs, like I am ripping her toe off or something. Or taking her new FurReal cat Rosie complete with carrying case away from her.

I grab her after chasing her through every room and pin her down on the bed. She is half laughing and half crying. She wants to make it a game, and really for the record it is. She tries her hardest to win the battle of the nightie. I sit on top of her while trying to get her shirt on. She kicks and squirms and wiggles the entire time looking for a way to escape my grip. I place a forearm across her stomach and hold her wrists with my hand as I attempt the pants. Still writhing about she turns onto her tummy and I pull her pants on. Next comes the sweater. I wrap my legs around her to hold her still as I pull one arm through the sleeves at a time. I have even put her in a Nelson, like a cop would do.

Obviously this is gentle and we for the most part giggle our way through this grappling match. I can't get too upset when this is her way of playing. I always come out the winner, even if I have lost the grapple and then try Strategy B, which is to take away Rosie or her princess shoes. I have also been known to pull out Strategy C too. That is where I throw down her clothes and then say good-bye, all while walking myself to the door to get my coat on. Then she freaks out and we get her dressed without incident.

Our day moves on and we go where we need to. We end up accomplishing what we set out to do. I have just run my errands and burned many calories from my grappling match and Spark Plug comes back though the front door and strips down to her underwear. She then marches up to her room and pulls out her Princess nightie and pulls it over her head. She prances back in forth in front of me like a dressage horse and looks at me with her flirty eyes and a solid expression of satisfaction.

She thinks she has won. Maybe she has.

I am still the grappling master.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Labels: Battle, Chores, Spark Plug

Happy New Year to everyone!

I am wearing a grey turtleneck and pants today. I did this purposely to match my hair. With the moving experience, my hair has gone several various shades of grey. It is funny because the more stressful the situation, the lighter the grey gets. I have three different shades of grey going on right now.

Charcoal Grey: This is a nice dark tone that matches my outfit quite nicely today. I noticed a few hairs this colour as we were in the throes of packing the rest of our house and getting it into the moving truck.

I thought we were pretty organized in getting packed and moved. We had been working on it for a couple of months. I was wrong. We were totally scattered and by the end, we were throwing things in boxes and tying clothes to the side of the truck. I called this experience Tetris Packing. Hubby was in charge of packing the truck, along with his brother. Dear friends also came over to stick some fire in our pants and without their help we would have been completely screwed. I thought Hubby was doing a good job at the Tetris Packing by placing boxes and furniture strategically in order to fill up every available space without losing points and then the game. He started off well and then I noticed about at about the half way mark that he was leaving some holes. Big ones. Game Over.

I was starting to get tense, thinking we would not have enough room to put everything. He reassured me that we would be fine. I had doubts. The glass was half empty this day. Good thing we had two vans to fill.

Hubby and I started to get on each other's nerves. We started nipping and barking and spatting. He told me I took too long to pack the boxes leaving too much space in the truck and therefore the only other option was to put in more furniture. I told him that his Tetris Packing abilities were lacking. Thank goodness our friends were there to diffuse any brewing explosions.

We had to leave a little bit of stuff behind because it wouldn't fit. We will be back to pick it up when Hubby returns to get his truck.


Silver grey (like tinsel): We hit the road and drove through freezing rain the whole way. I had the Wee Ladies and Hubby was driving the 26 footer. My MIL came with us and drove the other van.

The Wee Ladies have handled the change very well and they were all super during the ride up. My silver grey hairs were matching my knuckles as I gripped the steering wheel for dear life as we were pelted with freezing rain. I had to keep using my wiper fluid to clean the windshield off and at one point I ran out. Crap. I was on a four lane road and pulled off to the side to refill my container. I was stressed. It was a long and slippy ride. After a morning of packing the rest of our stuff, this four hour drive was tiring. We made it up in one piece.

We rented a condo for two nights. We went for dinner and called it a night the first night. We were to meet our movers the next morning. They helped Hubby with the big ticket items.

My MIL looked after the Wee Ladies as Hubby and I moved our stuff into our new place. She totally saved me from slitting my wrists. She was there to help with food, laundry, kids, organizing, running around. She was amazing and we are really going to miss her. The kids adore her and they have a very good relationship with her. We will have to make sure that they see her as often as possible.

Cloud Grey (a very light shade when the sun is almost peeking through): My MIL left today. And my blood pressure has been up ever since. Hubby started work yesterday. I am trying to get unpacked and organized while dealing with the Wee Ladies. So far I have applied bandages to fingers dripping in blood from a broken piggy bank, I have counseled EvieG through her first fight with her stuffed animal/best friend, cleaned up the same messes made by The Destroyer a few times, settled fights, and wiped many runny noses. All of this in between getting situated.

EvieG has started school and Sparks. Spark Plug wants to live in her princess nighties and trying to get her dressed to go out is a nightmare. The Destroyer is busy climbing and trying to get into everything. She also tries to help sweep by swinging the broomstick around and nearly decapitating anyone in her proximity.

We will persevere. Moving with kids is hard and if anyone tells you differently, they are lying.

All I want right now is a stiff drink and tweezers to pluck out these grey hairs.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Thanks to Nenny with Twins for blogsitting again. I-LOVE-HER.

PPS I have a list a mile long of blog topics. Please come back to check it all out. Who's DDM for January will be up as soon as I have time to take a pee and sit down to do it.

PPPS There will also be some more reviews heading your way in the DDM's Try Ons section. I will keep you posted on that front.

Thanks for sticking by me through this transition.

Labels: Battle, Chores, DDM, Family

Hey everyone,

It's Nenny with Twins again. DDM is trapped in a roll of bubble paper underneath a pile of old cookbooks and asked me to look after the blog again today, so I'm going to re-post a classic DDM rant that is so dear to my heart. Hope you enjoy!

NWT

Friday, June 20, 2008

Totally Tardy

During life before kids I was on time for everything. And obsessively on time. I couldn't stand being late for anything and got a little bent out of shape when people were late meeting me anywhere. Now that we have the three Wee Ladies, it is not uncommon for me to be totally tardy.

I consider myself to be a relatively organized individual. I keep the kids in line and keep the house in good order. Most days. But it seems that whenever I have an appointment, or an agenda of any kind that requires me to be a certain place at a certain time, I can pretty much guarantee I will be running a few minutes late.

This irritates me and I get so mad at myself. The problem with this irritation is that it can sometimes result in a 'lead foot' as they say. That's right. I can speed. I am happy to report that I have yet to get a speeding ticket. I have been close. Very close. Let's just say that it helps a) to live in a small town and b) to know some of the local police officers personally.

Just as I am about to step out the door, something always comes up. Either a kid has to be changed, someone falls, the phone rings, or I forget something and have to go back in. When I forget something it, the scenario looks like this:

1. Lock door, head to The Guzzler.

2. Get into The Guzzler and realize I forgot my purse. Go back in.

3. Grab purse and lock door again.

4. Get into Guzzler and realize I forgot dry cleaning.

5. Grab cleaning and go to the bathroom one more time. Lock door.

6. Get into Guzzler and realize I forgot reusable grocery bags (I do my part for the environment) and cell phone. Go back in. Open garage door.

7. Get bags and phone and get back into Guzzler. Close garage door, turn up CBC Radio 1, and drive away.

I am not exaggerating. This is very typical for me when I try to go anywhere. And I am usually tardy.

When I need to go anywhere alone and am depending on a babysitter, I rely on them to get to the house on time. But when they are running late themselves, it puts me even further behind and then I am really late to get to where I need to be. I have had to call my destination on more than one occasion to tell them I am running late. When this happens, I can feel my blood pressure increase and I start to sweat. When the sitter shows up, I have to go over the schedule and what the Wee Ladies need while I am gone. Then I run out the door and put it in high gear.

I am not sure how to tackle my tardiness issue. I guess all I can do is try to have everything ready for when I have to go. I try, but it seems there is always something else to do, or remember.

As long as I have done a head count of the Wee Ladies and can keep track of their whereabouts, then I can say 'Job well done, Mom,' and give myself a pat on that back. Everything else will fall into place. I will get where I need to be. Eventually. Even if I am a few minutes late. As long as I arrive alive and everyone is intact. That's what matters.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Have a great weekend! Thanks for reading!

Labels: Guest Post, Nenny with Twins

A Mommy Moment

Hi all. Nenny with Twins at the wheel again while DDM and the family negotiate moving day. I thought I'd take this opportunity to share one of my recent experiences while DDM is away.

Do you remember the first moment that you felt like a parent? Perhaps it was when your child grasped your finger for the first time, or gave you tiny smile or a sweet little belly laugh. Whatever it was, we all have these moments where we experience the overwhelming and undeniable reality of parenthood. I had one of these last week.

My husband and I were giving our 18 month old twins a bath, which is always a cute experience. Our daughter likes to help wash her brother’s hair and they both get a kick out of splashing around with their toys. My husband and I just sit and enjoy the show. On the night in question, bathtime was coming to and end, so Mr. NWT and I began our negotiations regarding which kid we’d take (we do the man-on-man defense in our house). As usual, I got the girl, who squirms, fusses and rebels against everything that happens between getting out of the bath and into bed. Whatever. I can take her. I passed our son over to my husband (we have a tiny bathroom so there’s not much room to spare) who was waiting with a towel and a hug. I turned back to grab our daughter when I noticed something odd in the tub. And when I say odd, I mean foul.

There was a wave of poop emanating from my daughter’s bum. A wave. This wasn’t a tidy little turd neatly floating along; it was a mass of fecal debris fighting its way to the farthest edges of the tub. What do I do?

My first reaction was to throw something at my husband, who was laughing with relief because he already had his kid out and cleaned up. That would have to wait until later. In these situations, every second counts. Next, I thought of salvaging the bath toys before they came in contact with the poop but there was no point in that since I’d still want to scrub them with bleach. My third reaction was more urgent, as I noticed that my daughter had abandoned her toy whale for what looked to be a miraculously unscathed blueberry that was bobbing along in the horrible cloud of crap. She seemed delighted to see it again and had I not snatched it out of her hand it would have gone right back where it came from. I had to get her out before things got really ugly.

I rinsed her and dried her off as best as I could and rushed her out of the bathroom, or as it was now known: the biohazard zone. My husband got them both dressed for bed and read them stories while I returned to the scene of the crime with a pair of rubber gloves and bucket of Javex to clean out the tub.

As I got the last of it out, I had to laugh. I was having a Mommy moment. This was it, just like the first time I got barfed on and didn’t care. Sure, I remember her first smile and her first word and those were really special moments, but there are few things as real as cleaning up someone’s poop. I was in it now. Elbow deep. And as gross as the whole ordeal was, the look on her face was so sweet (I imagine she probably felt a lot better afterwards) that I didn’t even care. Good thing, too, because there's no WAY Mr. NWT would be doing this.

DDM should be returning tomorrow, depending on how her move went. I hope she’s not too upset at me for dragging down the tone in here. I guess I just felt like sharing.

Happy New Year!

NWT

Labels: Guest Post, Nenny with Twins