Holy crap, it’s a weekday

December 31, 2007 - Monday



Oops!

This holiday has me totally turned around. Apparently, it's Monday, and yes I do a blog every weekday and this being a weekday, I need to blog. So here it is.

Umm... err... look at me blogging. It's fun. Look at me, I'm writing stuff. OMG, this is totally lame. I'll see you tomorrow. Considering this is the last blog of 2007, you'd think I'd put a bit more effort into it. Write something memorable. Something representative of the happenings of the year that has past. Something meaningful and profound. Well, to be honest, if you think about it, that's what I'm doing. Scary, isn't it? And you only had to read it. Imagine how I feel.

Love you loads, keep reading it'll only get better, I promise. Nowhere to go but up, right? See you next year! And just to let you all know, I have NO PLANS tonight. How boring have I become?

kxx

I apologise in advance

I have to be one of THOSE mums. You know the ones. Those irritating, braggy, my-child-is-the-best-smartest-greatest-child-ever mums. But don't worry, I'll try not to drag this on.

Yesterday (Henry's birthday in case you've forgotten) for the first time I went to the Civic Centre to watch Henry play nets in a tournament. Okay so he lost 4-1 but he really did make some brilliant saves. Seriously. How do I know this? Well besides all the other parents clapping me on the back saying so, he got 3rd star of the game. And from his coach he also got the construction helmet which signifies that he worked the hardest on the team. I wish I could show you my favourite save of the game. It involved him reaching back behind him to snag the loose puck which would have surely gotten tipped in but you'll have to endure these instead. I warned you I was going to do this...

Happy 8th birthday Henry!

Henry is my "Mini-Me"

He's most like me in temperament, attitude and personality. He's got dramatic flair and he's the only one of my troupe who will most likely join his school's drama club. He's got dimples like me and a loud infectious laugh like mine. Once all the kids were playing superheroes and assigning each other super-powers. Elliott was "super-smart", Audrey was "super-girly" and Henry? "Super-loud". That's my baby.

He cracks me up, is really snuggly and despite his language learning disability, is amazingly eloquent and expressive. He has a quick smile and an easy laugh. I love this kid to distraction.

So his cake is baked, the birthday tree is decorated and everything (except for the loot bags [which are actually boxes]) is ready for the big do on Saturday afternoon. He's playing nets in hockey later today so we're all going to cheer him on then it's off to the restaurant of his choice for dinner. Most likely McDonalds. Well, he can't be like me 100%, can he?

kxx

Well, most of it is over

I still have Audrey's godmother due over in a few hours to visit and pick up her gift, I have to take the Christmas based decorations down and replace them with birthday decorations for the birthday tree, I have to bake a birthday cake (actually 2... one for the actual day tomorrow and one for the party Saturday), go to a hockey tournament tomorrow, a 67s game Friday, visit a friend at her apartment Friday night, host the birthday party Saturday afternoon (for which I forgot to buy loot bags... sigh, I need to go shopping AGAIN), and visit my dad on the 5th-6th. Okay, so it's not even close to being over.

Give me strength.

kxx

So. Very. Tired.

December 25, 2007 - Tuesday



Up at 4:45am (you heard) and I can barely string two sentences together. Here's a synopsis of the day in video and photos... Nighty night. Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Aaaah, Christmas Eve

Yup, it's Christmas Eve. I've done some cleaning but not much since we're not expecting anyone. But of course since I'm a Flylady, my house isn't in CHAOS. I have some cooking to do but again, since no one is coming over, we are forgo-ing the big dinner.

In fact, this is the first year in recent memory that I've actually been tempted to make pizza for Christmas dinner. Why? Because it's the only meal my kids eat without complaining, whining or cajoling. But I just couldn't do it. So we're having turkey (one of those rolled breast thingies with the stuffing already inside) with sides of raw carrots, french fries, mac and cheese and a salad bag. Sad but true but I can't take the whining at dinner. Tonight we are having the traditional Quebec dinner of tourtiere. And we're going to church. I hope we don't go up in flames since it's been exactly 12 months since we darkened their door. I can't even call myself a lapsed Catholic. More like a holiday heathen.

Anyway, we're looking forward to tomorrow morning. If all goes to plan, Audrey will be receiving her rabbit "Monkey" in a matter of hours. This will be really memorable and I'll let you all know how it goes down. Of course I'll be doing this blog even later than today. Hey, at least you're getting one.

kxx

So if bad things happen in threes, we’re done right?

Last night Scott took Henry and Audrey to the nearby skating rink. Henry came home crying and complaining about a sore stomach (red flag #1). I thought it was because he was hungry and pretty much ignored him telling him to come and have dinner. He then pushed his dinner around his plate and didn't eat a thing (red flag #2). After supper he asked to skip dessert (red flag #3) and lay quietly on the couch in front of the tv (red flag #4, it wasn't Teletoon... he seemed oddly interested in Tracy's woes on Coronation Street). Note to self: stop ignoring your children.

About a half hour later he bolts up on the couch and says "My tummy still..." and projectile vomits around my living room. Thank goodness there are no carpets and we have a leather couch. The smell would never leave. Now here's where things get gross. I mean grosser. Is that even a word? Anyway, my first thought is "GET TO THE BATHROOM!" Bad idea because unfortunately the vomiting still continued as I escorted my puking baby to the toilet. Can I get a "woot!" for the inventor of slippers? Afterwards, I surveyed the damage. Vomit pooled on the couch, splashed on the hallway floor on the way to the toilet, on the bathroom door (the door?), on every little carpet in the bathroom floor and in and around the toilet itself. Good times. And of course the nasty smell of upchuck all over the house.

Scott helped with the cleaning and the livingroom floor got yet another mopping after the 2 Christmas tree incidents. Everything looks and smells back to normal. We even were able to wash Wayne who got a lot of the err... fallout from the first onslaught. Oh, and Henry's fine. He just had indigestion, not a bug.

So counting the 2 disasters with the tree as separate events and the puke fountain as the third, we're quits right? No more disasters before Christmas. Please? I'm so tired.

kxx

It’s deja vu all over again

The tree fell over again. Fully decorated and lit AGAIN. The only difference was that Scott was home this time. Oh, and there were a few gifts to get soaked by the glug-glugging Christmas tree water. I'm completely traumatised by the big stupid thing. I was only going to put plastic decorations back on but Scott, clever man that he is, anchored the sucker to the windowsill. Elliott amusingly mused that the tree could possibly fall through the picture window but it was only a little funny. I don't want to talk about it anymore.

kxx

I went to my secret best friend’s movie

Okay, you all know my obsession with Will Smith. To quickly refresh, I adore Will. Not in a sexual way at all but I know with all my heart that if he ever met me we'd hit it off and be fast friends. He and Jada and the kids would come over for BBQ and hot wings and we'd talk and laugh and I'd bring out a cake I made for the occasion. They'd love it and... where was I?

Oh yeah. I Am Legend. Awesome awesome movie. Will carries the whole thing by himself for the bulk of it. And he was wonderful to watch. Now, the zombies scared me so much that it actually wrecked the movie a bit for me but otherwise it was a "see this in the theatre" movie. I laughed, I cried, it had a good beat and I could dance to it. Even Scott liked it and he's picky. He likes nothing unless it's about a British/Canadian perspective of a true story of World War 2. So go see Uncle Will's movie. Did I mention I make my kids call him "Uncle Will"? Because that's how far gone I am.

kxx

Name of the game this week?

Kibosh.

Scott and I somehow managed to both get this week off. When we did, we called it "date week" and immediately started thinking of fun, single-style things we could do while the kids are at school. We could go to movies, Christmas shop, bake (okay, that was my suggestion), go to the hobby shop (that was his), sleep in (this includes some afternoon delight), and generally enjoy ourselves as if we had no kids for 6 hours.

Well, you know that old saying "If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans"? Well that applies this week. And it's only Tuesday. Yesterday the kids were off school because of the snow cleanup from Sunday. So there went the shopping and the movies. Not a problem. We have the rest of the week, right? And at least we got to sleep in.

This morning they're back at school. Oops, I realize I can't sleep in because I have to get them ready. Kibosh on that. Then, during my morning ablutions, I notice that Aunt Flo has come over for an early and most certainly unwelcome visit. Kibosh. There goes the afternoon delight portion of the programme. And before you mention that we could still go on, let me remind you that we've been together for going on 20 years and that's just a big yuck on both our parts. Literally and figuratively. Sigh. At least we can still go to the movies and Christmas shopping.

And didn't I just now have to get up from the computer to check on the heaving cat? Yup, I did. Culprit? Christmas tree tinsel. I'm sensing a vet sized kibosh in out future.

kxx

Snow Day (part deux)

So yesterday we got an enormous dump of snow. Thirty-seven centimetres. They say it's the biggest one day total on yesterday's date in 60 years. All I know is that the kids being home have put the kibosh on Scott and my "date week". You already know, as usual, it's all about me. 'S'okay, though. We can still have a ball as a family playing in the newly fallen snow. I actually like it right now since it's all clean and fresh and not too cold out. Hey, it's Canada. Minus 15 is not that cold. Especially with the sun blazing like it is.

It's just past 10am and the kids have been playing outside for almost 30 minutes. Scott's out there too snowblowing the laneway so I better make an appearance soon. I'll just put my snowsuit on over my jammies stick my bare feet in my ugly skidoo boots and I'll be ready to go. Seriously. That's just the way I roll.

kxx

After the excitement of yesterday I’m happy to say

that I have nothing interesting to say.

I did get the tree back up and decorated. It looks nicer than it did before. Even that angel that shattered was able to get fixed. She looks a bit like a Dr. Frankenstein experiment but at least she's got a story to tell.

Getting ready for Christmas is tough what with cards and packages to send out, shopping, decorating (redecorating), etc so I've been de-stressing with Christmas music. My favourite one this year? Fairytale of New York by The Pogues and the sadly missed Kirsty MacColl. An oldie but a goodie. What's your favourite tune this year?

kxx

If a tree falls in the livingroom does anybody hear?

Short answer: Yes.

Back story: Our fully decorated Christmas tree fell over last night.

And just to prove that I actually did hear the procedings, here is a "sound synopsis".

Creeeeak, swish: The sounds of the timbering tree falling toward me as I innocently knitted (yes, I said "knitted") on the couch.

Crash, tinkle, tinkle: The sounds of the decorations hitting the hardwood floor. We lost several generic glass balls and a favourite angel in the ensuing carnage.

Glug, Glug, glugglugglug...: About 4 litres of Christmas tree water leaving the security of it's container and running all over the hardwood floor.

"Mommy, I'm scared!!!": This from Audrey and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Is this the worst Christmas ever?": This from Henry.

"Cool!": This from Elliott.

"$%^&*%!!!!!": This from me.

"Karen, come see this! Errr... how fast did you get the water up off the floor?": This from Scott upon coming home from work, hearing the full recount of the story and assessing the damage to the downstairs playroom ceiling and couch as the Christmas tree water made it's inexorable way downstairs slowly dripping though onto the furniture.

So thus ended the "real Christmas tree experiment". It's the first one we've had since before the kids were born. And will probably be the last. It's still naked in the centre of the room. I'm afraid to redecorate it. As usual good times abound in the Kaye household...

kxx

Stop me oh-ho-ho stop me

Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before...

I feel like I've just posted about this subject but maybe it was just me gassing about it live in person to my workmates (yes, I have them). Whatever. If I've mentioned this before, please ignore this blog.

I'd like to discuss cold medicine ads. You know the ones... A sick person takes some kind of miracle drug that allows them to continue working or school or skydiving or some such nonsense. Ummm whatever happened to taking a sick day? Are we that indispensible that we can't take 24 hours off from our lives? And if you can't, do you really want to sicken everyone around you by spreading whatever goopy germ that's making you ill?

I'll never forget the commercial with a guy doing his groceries pushing a cart. He lets out an almighty sneeze, covering his mouth with his hand like a good boy then continues to push the cart. He later opens the freezer to get something. A mother and daughter come along and the daughter pushes sneeze-guy's cart out of the way and blammo. Nasty germy transfer. Just to let you all know, the new way of blocking your gross sneeze is with the inside your elbow for exactly that reason. Yuck.

There's an ad I've been liking lately for Benylin. It's got a woman trying to get ready for work but she's sick. She takes the drug then (shock of shocks) also takes the day off. I love the very end of the ad where they show her looking better (having taken her Benylin) but in her bed at home, reading a book with her dog snuggled beside her. Now that's the way to be sick. Take a hint people. The world will continue turning without you.

kxx

Good morning beautiful people!

Feeling ebullient this morning. I don't want to wreck the feeling by thinking too much so I won't. I just want to mention that every morning I have to beg, plead and cajole the family out of bed. Everyone except for Elliott, that is. That kid gets out of bed the minute he hears his alarm and starts to get ready before even I'm up. Scott I have to kick for 20 minutes (waking myself up in the process I may add) and Audrey and Henry I have to drag to the floor by any body part I spy poking out of the covers.

Elliott just makes my life easy. Hey, that could be his slogan.

kxx

Grocery follies

One of my favourite comic strips played out this weekend. There's this Betty comic that I have on my fridge. It's old but it cracks me up every time. Why? I live it that's why.

Scott took the grocery list I keep magnetised to the fridge. Why? He wanted to do me a favour, that's why. When he came home I thanked him, put them away, I kissed him and did all the groceries again later. Why? Because everything he got was wrong, that's why.

See, when I put "meat" on the list, I mean "500g lean ground beef" not steak. When I put "cheese" on the list I mean the "family sized old cheddar", not havarti. Same goes for "flour". I mean "10k all purpose" not self rising. Ditto milk. Who drinks homo, anyway? I know what I mean when I'm vague. He's clueless, poor lamb.

We've been together long enough for me to clam up and say "thanks sweetie" rather than start a whole big thing about it. After all, he was trying to help, the poor dear. And at this time of the year more than any, it's the thought that counts. Right?

kxx

PD Day

Let's see... it's 12:20pm and I've already had two parent/teacher meetings at 2 different schools, done a load of dishes, been to the public library (closed), took Audrey and picked her up from a playdate and watched 2 epidodes of the Jeffersons, one of All In The Family and one of Sanford and Son. Whew.

In about 10 minutes I'm taking the gang to see the movie Enchanted and when it's over I'm going to fix Audrey's high maintance hair (about 1.5 hours). By then I should be ready to make dinner then go to bed. What a day.

So how's your Friday going?

kxx

Uh Oh

I have to start writing down blog ideas because I hate not having anything to write. Like now. Today I have nothing for you. Less than nothing. Because the only thing pressing in my life right now is the fact that I bit the inside of my lip a few days ago. It swelled up a bit and now every time I eat I bite it again. I hate that. See? Less than nothing.

Oh, and I sweet talked Scott into getting a rabbit for Audrey despite his allergies. The pros far outweighed the cons. At least in my mind. Think of her face on Christmas morning when she sees it under the tree. I'm beside myself with glee.

Happy Thursday!

kxx

The List

I saw a really great show the other day called The List. Bonus points that it's on Canadian tv so maybe I'll write in.

You know how it's all the rage now to make a list of things to do before you die? There's even books about it. Anyway, you send this show your list and they help you do a few things on it. How fun is that? And it really makes me think. Which is a bonus because usually most shows make me think: "Is Nathan Petrelli really dead?" or "When the hell are Greenlee and Zach going to get out ouf the abandonned bomb shelter?". This one made me think: "What do I want to accomplish before I shuffle off this mortal coil?"

On the show the tasks ranged from the sublime (a woman designed her own Ben & Jerry's flavour) to the ridiculous (a ride through suburban Toronto on an elephant). So what would be on my list?

*Own Christian Louboutin shoes
*Travel with my kids yearly
*Live in a foreign country (for about a year but coming back to Canada when we're done)
*Have an ensuite bathroom and a walk-in closet

I just noticed all these things are money related. A big lottery win should take care of all of it. So what would I do? What would a tv show help me with? Skydive? Nah. Drive a Zamboni? That's someone else's dream (you know who you are). I know: learn how to drive a stick. Oh my God, that's so boring. Ooh, I've got it! Acting. I'd love to get a "funny best friend" part in a movie. Not the main part... too much pressure. The best friend is always the most memorable part anyway and could be the breakout role. I'd love the attention something like that would bring. And the money. Enough for a certain pair of shoes. And I could use some of the acting training in my background that's been sorely underused as a wife and mother.

So what about you? What's your dream?

kxx

I love this video!

I just found this one and I figure I'm due after the video extravaganza of a few weeks ago. Will Ferrell is in it and I swear that man could crack me up reading out of a Chinese food menu.

Enjoy.

kxx

SNOW DAY!

Because of the prediction of 5cms of snow per hour, the kids' school buses are cancelled and it's a snow day. For them. I have to get ready for work. Which means I can't regale you with the amazing and hilarious story of the weekend.
The one where Henry caught Scott and me in flagrante delicto. Poor kid was rubbing his eyes, worriedly asking if I was okay. There's no blog fodder better than a childhood scarring event, is there? And what's a mother but a great subject to talk about to your psychiatrist? Really, I just helped Henry, didn't I?

See you tomorrow.

kxx

My poor boss

She wears a hearing aid and she's recently discovered she has a double ear infection (that means one in both ears for those of you without kids). So she's, for all intents and purposes, deaf. Ordinarily this would be a sad situation and it is for her but we still laughed our asses off all day.

Have you ever spoken to a mostly deaf person? I'm actually pretty fluent in sign language (bet you didn't know that about me) but she isn't so we were pretty much just yelling at her all day. Then she learned that she could hear okay when she got a phone call so by the end of the day we were calling her to ask questions. When we were 5 feet away from her. Too funny. She's a talker too but when she asked a question she couldn't hear our answer. She'd just look at you blankly with a slack grin on her face.

You can tell my co-worker and I like her because we didn't take the opportunity to talk behind her back. Much. We did say things like "this must be hard for her" and "she smells really bad" (that last one was me) but what was weird was that she was arms' length away and we were speaking in regular tones. Strange.

Anyway, I still love that job more than anything. I'm having more fun and more laughs than any job I've ever had.

kxx

Pot-AY-to, pot-AAH-to

Scott and I have a debate a few times a week. It's about decals. I know, there are other more pressing things to debate like Karlheinz Schreiber and paper versus plastic but our continuing debate concerns the little plastic prints. Hey, we aren't deep.

I say the word is pronounced "DEE-kal", he says it's "dekkle". The whole time I lived in Montréal, I heard it (if I heard it... face it, it's not a word you hear often) like dee-cal. Since I moved here, I would say I've heard it 50/50 dee-cal/dekkle. And now that Scott makes plastic models he says it all the time and I swear it's like nails on a blackboard. To top it off, I heard a radio newscaster say dekkle this morning, chipping away at my smug staisfaction at being absolutely right.

So my question to you is this. How do YOU pronounce decal? I know most of you don't reply to this blog but lots of you read it. I know, I get about 40 hits a day. So if even half of you would kindly reply to this blog with your honest reply, I can show this to Scott with a definitive answer. And a nyah-nyah tongue.

So what do you say? Dee-cal or dekkle? Feel free to cut and paste and not write anything else but the pronounciation you use. I'll start you off...

kxx

THE PHOTO IN THIS POST IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART!

You've been warned.

My cat loves me. A lot. How do I know? He brings me pressies. Taz has no front claws so the fact that he still takes care to disembowel my presents is an added bonus. That's quality work. I spent 10 minutes girding my loins before I took this picture. Then I had to get rid of the body. Brrr. But it's hard to be mad at my mouse murderer when deep down (past the vomit coming up) I know he's just trying to be thoughtful. Although the thought that a critter that sleeps on my pillow, talks to me, comes when I call him and nuzzles me on the couch, purring so loud I can barely hear the tv, can do this to another living thing chills me to the bone.

kxx

Cookies!

My friend Norah is hosting a cookie exchange Saturday. What is a cookie exchange you ask? Well, it's an adult playdate where all the guests are asked to bring is a dozen cookies. For each guest. And a dozen to share during a party. sound manageable? It can be. If you don't invite too many people. I've had them in the past with about 6 guests but Norah has 10 people coming on Saturday. That means 11 dozen cookies. The good news is that I go home with 10 dozen cookies of all shapes and flavours. And of course, being to lazy so-and-so I am, found a recipe (for ginger crackles) that makes a ton anyway and doubled it (thank you Terra) so I was able to make 11 dozen cookies in one go. Easy and yummy and Christmassy too. What? You want the recipe? My pleasure.

kxx

Aaaah Monday

As many of my old familiar readers know, Monday is my favourite day of the week. Things go back to normal, schedules resume their daily grind, I eat well Monday through Friday... bliss. I know it's weird but never let it be said that I'm a normal person. They're called quirks, people. All the brilliant ones have them.

Speaking of quirks, my weekend was pretty good. Except for that unfortunate electric slide related accident where I fell backwards into my tub. My advice? Never do the electric slide in your bathoom.

Saturday was awesome. Audrey and I stayed in our jammies all day and had a High School Musical marathon. Both were pop-up editions and as usual, I love them as much as when I'd seen them the first time. I can't get enough of these movies. I must have seen them 5 times each. I also taped them both so I can watch them again anytime. I mean so we can watch them anytime. I even recently (and dorkily) changed my cellphone ringtone to "We're All In This Together". I'm concerned about myself. These movies are geared toward tweens. What does it mean that I adore these movies so much? Do I have a Peter Pan complex? Am I just a creepy old cougar eager to get into Zac Efron's underaged gymshorts? I don't know. Am I just crazy? Will I be first in line when HSM3 comes out in theatres? Bet on it.

kxx

Grr... I have to brush off my car

It's got about 8cms (figure it out yourselves) of snow on it and probably ice under that. It's my least favourite winter job. And that's saying a LOT. Every winter job sucks. Anyway, it's put me in a pissy mood in case you haven't guessed already.

kxx

Blogging? Today?

Yup. Even though I don't particularly feel like it, I'm gonna.

So today is American Thanksgiving. So enjoy your turkey and your football. I'll be watching reruns thanks to my slavish dependence on your television programming. And just for the record, the Kaye's are having pizza for dinner tonight. I have to admit that I hate your sweet potato dish with the marshmallows on top. Sorry, but that's just vile. Hey, but if you like it, don't let my opinion put you off your feed.

We're in the midst of getting a huge dumping of snow. 10-15cm. Which because of American Thanksgiving I will now translate for my American readers into "old money": 4 to 6 inches. Give or take.

Okay, I'm only going through the motions here so I'll end this before it becomes pathetic. (That's what she said... Thank you Michael Scott). Have a great holiday if that's what your having. Have a great Thursday if that's what your having and drive safely if snow is what you're having. See you tomorrow.

kxx

Snow!

The kids all woke up early this morning running from room to room gabbling about the snow on the ground. I wanted to hide under the covers. It has begun. Yes it's pretty now, but by 4pm when it's pitch dark and the snow is all dirty and slushy, it'll be the start of a long, dark depressing season. Oh joy.

And to add to the joyous fun, today's the day I have to break up with little Kevin. Yup, me and my personal trainer have to part ways. I knew it had to come when he skilfully mentioned his hourly rate. It's hold onto your hats.... $50. Every hour. Just to put things into perspective, I make $40 PER DAY. Not to mention a little thing called Christmas as well as Henry's birthday, saving for a trip to Dominca next year, hockey, horseback riding lessons... oy. We just can't afford him. Maybe in the spring after I've had a few months to squirrel away some more secret money. I hate being moderately poor.

And now that it's frigging snowing, Elliott needs winter boots. It just never ends. I'm buying a lottery ticket.

kxx

How can you tell the difference between an American and a Canadian?

No, it's not a joke. Those of you that know me know I can't tell a joke. At all. Which is strange because I'm often considered funny. How does that work?

Anyway, back to the original point. How can you tell the difference between an American and a Canadian? Besides the obvious foreign knowlege stuff (I knew I was going to get in trouble with this one), just talk to them. Most Canadians have a distinctive accent. It isn't the "oot and aboot" thing, either. I've been in this country all my life and I've never ever heard any one of us pronounce "out and about" that way. It's usually someone from another country making fun of us. Dummies.

No, ask a Canadian to say "sorry" (which supposedly due to our world famous politeness we say several times a day). We pronounce it SORE-y while in almost every American show I've ever seen they pronounce it SAW-ry. It's subtle but it's there. I've never noticed it before but there it is. Take it however you will.

kxx

Wagga who-what-now?

Elliott is so smart. To me anyway. He actually could be just as smart as every other 11 year old out there but compared to me, he's really got brains. He definitely got that from his dad.

Anyway, yesterday we were watching the Amazing Race. It's one of our favourite shows. One that gets a 30 minute bedtime pass. So we were watching and the travellers had to go to Ouagadougou having no information other than the name of the place. They had to get there not knowing where it was. Elliott was in the bathroom at this time and came in as the contestants were all struggling through the name. He asked me where they were going and I told him. This is what my smart child said to me: "Cool. Burkina Faso. West Africa, right?" Not wanting to look like a fool I was all... "errr, yeah" and had to wait for Phil to elaborate. I did know it was in Africa but West Africa? No way. My son is smarter than me. Well, it was bound to happen.

kxx

Please do not poke the sleeping bear

Scott has been in the worst mood the last few days. It's not the family, it's work. Something about a takeover bid and he's worried about his guys. The problem is that he's middle management. The higher-ups blame him for things that happen with his guys and his guys blame him when the higher-ups drag their feet about things. He's totally stressed.

He usually does well handling things and not bringing home his stress but the last 2 days with him have been, well, sucky. He comes home, grunts hello, finds fault with something that he yells about then hides downstairs in his office until bedtime. Yesterday he made Elliott cry. Elliott. I haven't seen him cry since he was hit in the nose with a hockey stick. Supposedly Scott thought the basement playroom was messy and instead of asking the kids to tidy up, he started throwing things in a bin, threatening to throw them out. He even yelled at me for watching too much tv and blogging too much. Funny, that part. I usually only blog when he's at work and yesterday I was actually doing a typing tutorial to help me with my work. You know, the job I have? The one that makes a bit of cash?

Anyway, seeing the error of his ways, he skulked into his office and stayed there until after the kids and I had gone to bed. This morning he was up at 5am. Obviously his guilty conscience wouldn't let him sleep. Good. I love that man but he's sure making it difficult to feel it lately. I guess even my perfect guy can be a tool.

kxx

What’s in your purse?

Okay. If you're a guy, you don't have one but we girls have lots of interesting things in our handbags. Things you couldn't even imagine. Well, some people do. My bag is boring. I actually clean it out everyday. But the things I put back would shock and amaze you. Alright, maybe it wouldn't. But I'm trying to be interesting, here.

1 pair of sunglasses
2 packs of Extra gum
1 pack of travel kleenex
My wallet
My mp3 and earbuds
Hand lotion
15 assorted giftcards and laminated reward cards tied together with a rubber band (what's up with those?)
12 family photos in one of those plastic thingies
face creme
lipstick
mirror
pen
cell phone (with my new Simpson's theme ringtone... by Green Day)
dental floss
Otrivin (I hate when my nose is stuffed)
Benedryl (for the kids... just in case)
Asthma inhaler (again for the kids, just in case)
My lunch consisting of: an apple, water, V8, a baggie full of cucumber slices, a cereal bar, rice cakes... ugh. thanks Kevin.

Wow. That's a big bag. That was illuminating, wasn't it? I wonder what my purse says about me. Maybe that I'm a self-involved, orally fixated hypocondriac. Which you already knew if you're read my musings for over a week. I'm interested in what people carry around. What they can't do without. What's in your purse?

kxx

35% fat??!!

What do whipping creme, butter, 1/2 cup almonds, a slice of apple pie and me have in common? Give up? We're all comprised of 35% fat. I'm so grossed out.

As part of joining Goodlife, I have access to a personal trainer. Well, that "perk" was both good and bad news to me yesterday as I got weighed (163lbs) and measured and found wanting. Wanting to be less of a giant meringue. So now I have a goal (he wants me down to 155) and 30% fat. He says it's do-able. I say, pass me a bag of Doritos.

There was a good moment. Before I met Kevin (my (really!) young trainer) I heard two guys talking while I was pretending to read a magazine. One was apologising to the other saying sorry he was late. The other guy told him his 3 o'clock was here (me!) and the first guy (who turned out to be Kevin) said "Who? The one that's built like Marion Jones?" and the other guy replied "Yeah, she's gonna kick your ass, dude". I had to laugh. I'm going to dine on that one for weeks. But totally control my portions.

kxx

Hi!

Feeling fine since everything's back to normal. Elliott's at school, Scott's at work, Audrey's having breakfast Henry's getting ready for school and I'm blogging. In the morning. All's right with the world.

And now that the universe is back in alignment, I have nothing of value to say. Isn't it always the case? It's just like when you see someone familiar in the street and you rack your brains trying to remember their name and you wake up in a cold sweat that night because you remembered the name at a most inappropriate hour. Now that I have your attention, I have nothing for you. Sorry.

Last night I went to a pub with my friend Paula. She was hosting a birthday party for her friend BL. At that party I was taught the concept of "Lesbian Time". Too funny. It's a little like dog years. See, if 2 girls are dating and after about a month a uhaul rolls up to one of the girls' apartment with the other girl's stuff, ready to move in, it's totally on the up-and-up. To us breeders it would be moving waaay to fast but to lesbians it's totally normal. From what I gathered. Anyway, we were having a big old laugh about it last night inserting different scenarios but I guess you had to be there.

So that's all I've got for you today. Nothing too grand. Have a terrific day and I'll jump start the old brain so we don't have to do this again. For another few weeks, anyway...

kxx

Didja miss me?

I knew this would happen as Scott was home for Remembrance Day and I didn't want to blog in front of him. So here I am blogging after work. Good thing too since it gave me some fodder for the day.

I was asking a co-worker why we were working today. She replied that since yesterday was Remembrance Day, today is nothing, hence the workage. Never mind that buses are on Sunday schedules, there's no mail or garbage and all government workers have the day off because a stat day fell on a weekend. Whatev'.

So instead of honouring our troops with quiet reflection and dignity, most folks are taking advantage by shopping up a storm. Our store was crazy busy today. Nothing says "I love our troops" like consignment priced snowsuits. Because if we don't buy discount children's clothes, the terrorists win.

kxx

RIP Betty

Audrey's fish died yesterday. Betty lived a long life for a betta in a filter-free tank. Nine months. To put it in perspective, Henry went through 2 fish and a crab in the same length of time. The man himself noticed the fish formerly known as Betty first and tactfully broke it to Audrey. "Your fish is DEAD!", he said not at all in soft, sympathetic tones. I wanted to laugh, I really did, but the keening wails of my only daughter kept the giggles at bay. My poor little girl. She kept saying things like "she's the best friend I ever had," and "I miss her so much, mummy". It broke my heart.

Then the inevitable rally at the backyard funeral. "When can I get another one?", she asked as she threw a clump of dirt off the shovel into the hole where her best friend was interred. Kids really bounce back quickly, don't they?

kxx

Sometimes I wonder about the internet

I read Perez Hilton quite often and a couple of days ago I saw the nastiest thing I think I've ever seen in my entire life. I think I'm scarred forever. Seriously. There's no other way to describe this but "GAAAA". Maybe "UUGGGHHHH".

I won't describe what happens only that it's absolutely disgusting. Foul, even. What's the internet coming to? Yes, it's full of vile, crazy stuff and as users of it we are well aware of it. But come on. The people connected with making this were paid, and have normal(ish) lives, don't they? They have family that would watch this, wouldn't they? The website even has videos of the reactions of people watching this video and honestly I'm glad I saw that first. At least I knew what to expect. Kind of.

If you find it, don't watch it at work, don't watch it with kids... you know what? Don't watch it. You can't unsee what's been seen. My eyes...

kxx

God is punishing me

November 7, 2007 - Wednesday

For the sin of pride. See I was so proud to never have dealt with pinkeye before yesterday that He's giving me another dose to deal with. I have no words.


And here's the picture Audrey made, edited to add her brother. Please, God, have mercy on my and don't let Henry get it. Sigh.

"My eye has a runny nose"

This is what Audrey said to me last night. Why? She had (and has) pinkeye. After laughing my butt off at her colourful statement, I realize we've never dealt with it before in this house so I'm not sure if she has to lie down or anything. Lying down I can deal with. This waking up early and looking at her crusty eye boogers, prying her goopy lids open to put in eyedrops, her being healthy enough physically to bop around the kitchen asking to bake cookies with me (uck... chocolate chip cookies laced with conjunctivitis anyone?) and me having to take the day off work for the priviledge is not my idea of fun. As I said, lying down and actually being sick I can deal with. This? Not so much.

kxx

Can I get a "Woot"?

There is no more Halloween candy at my house today.

I instituted a new rule here at the Kaye household after Halloween. After previous years of hiding the candy and doling it out 3 pieces at a time after lunch and dinner and having to deal with the "can I have some candy?" question 72 times a day (times 3), things had to change. This year we had a new all-the-candy-you-can-eat-and-stop-asking-me-permission rule. Believe it or not it worked like a charm.

There were a scant few rules: No candy before noon or between 5 and 6pm. And no candy from 7:30 until bed. That's it. Still, my halloweenies devoured the candy in record time and as of yesterday afternoon I don't have to worry about finding new and devious hiding places or putting Halloween candy in Christmas stockings. I also don't have to worry about eating the junk myself and falling into a food induced shame spiral. I'm free!

kxx

Look what I did!

Okay, it was my first time working with fondant yesterday. I think I rolled it a little thick (I know I did for the hearts) but it came out pretty nice. The cake itself is 3 layer buttermilk tinted pink with blueberry filling. I hope it tastes alright. That's the problem with these things... I won't know how it tastes until the party on Saturday in front of all the guests. I knew I shouldn't have had my salt and sugar containers looking so disturbingly similar.

kxx

Aaaahhhh...

I'm blissfully alone in my own home. Seriously, this is my idea of heaven. I just took 3 layers of cake out of the oven and I'm listening to the radio. To 2 radios actually. There's one on in the kitchen and one on in the livingroom. Same station of course. I'm not schizophrenic. Entirely.

I have a dentist appontment at 11:20. YAY. Instead of going to work for an hour before and an hour after, I decided to take the opportunity to bake a cake I have to bring to a party on Saturday.

This is the most ambitious thing I've ever created. It'll be 3 layers of white cake with blueberry jam filling and fondant icing decorated with coloured fondant hearts around it. If I screw this one up, I've got time to buy a generic icecream cake and pass it off as my own. I so don't want to screw it up, though. I'm most worried about the fondant. I've never used it before and it can be fussy. Which is why I'm doing it today. No distractions. Wish me luck. You know I'll be taking a photo of it good or bad so look forward to that before the weekend.

kxx

BOO!

Okay, I have a ton to do this morning... Cutting apples for "healthy Halloween" (yuck), getting 3 kids ready to go to school complete with costumes (Audrey: gypsy; Henry: Spiderman; and Elliott: ironic ghost) so no blog today. Please enjoy my horns and scary contacts. No costume for me... just like in life, I like to concentrate on accessories.

Have a BOOtiful day.

kxx

Breakfast or blogging?

Usually it's breakfast but yesterday it was blogging. I learned my lesson and my cream of wheat is now boiling on the stove. I'll always eat my breakfast. Otherwise it makes me clumsy among other things. Case in point:

Here in Canada and in the UK, we commemorate our troops on 11th November at 11am. In the weeks leading up to the event, we wear poppies on our coats. We buy these poppies for whatever we want to donate from a veteran or cadet at a table in most stores.

Yesterday I went to buy mine after grocery shopping from a sweet old dear in a uniform. I struggled with my change, trying to put my handful of coins into the teensy slot. Toonies, Loonies and dimes started to cascade onto the floor and as I juggled my purchases, loose change, tried to sift the coins into the box and step on the coins that started to roll away, I knocked over her display. The wreath that said "Lest We Forget" in somber letters fell to the floor. Only a tiny bit humiliating. I replaced the wreath, mumbled an apology, crammed the rest of the change in the container, grabbed my poppy and hightailed it out of there. Double time.

So lest I forget, I'm having breakfast. It may not stop my comic clumsiness, it'll cut out an excuse I can use for my antics.

kxx

Good Morning, people

Hapy Monday! Remember that band? The Happy Mondays? Anyway.

As I sit at the computer trying to ignore Audrey's Monday morning screaming fit, I'm still in a good mood. And see? Ignoring the crappy behaviour works. She just came into the kitchen in a better mood to have me fix her hair. Those child-care experts sure know what they're talking about.

So, today I want to vent about Halloween. If you were reading my blog last year about this time (check 26th Oct 2006), you already know I hate it and the reason why so I won't go into that again. But I do have to vent about being forced to partake in the activities. The kids all need costumes for school on Wednesday. Thankfully I still have some influence on them and they've decided to make life easy on me. Audrey wants to be a gypsy so she'll cobble together stuff from my closet for that. It's amazing what the bribe of long dangly earrings will buy you. Then there's Henry who'll happily wear Elliott's robot costume from last year. And the piece de resistance, Elliott. He watched Charlie Brown yesterday and now wants to go as an ironic ghost. I love that he's doing this. It's just a sheet with eye holes. As much as you think you've seen that one a million times, really, how many times have you seen a kid at your door in that costume? I love it. And it makes me hate Halloween just a little bit less.

kxx

Warning! Post with nudity and underaged kids ahead

The nudity is mine and the underaged kid is Elliott.

When are we supposed to stop being nude in front of our kids? When they were babies, my nudity was a necessity. Time just marched on and frankly I just kinda noticed that the kids are now 11, 9 and 7. This morning I was just coming out of the shower and Elliott came in to brush his teeth. Of course I was naked as the day I was born. Neither of us said or did anything out of the ordinary, just went about our business. But I couldn't help but think that I was emotionally scarring my son somehow. What if he later uses my spectacular surgically improved breasts as a yardstick against all others? I'd never forgive myself.

I suppose it's all okay until one of us starts yelling "PRIVACY! PRIVACY!" while slamming and locking the bathroom door. But how are we supposed to know what to do when it's perfectly okay in this house to walk into the kitchen to grab a medicine spoon completely in the altogether? Scott did that one this morning, too. Henry even commented that "Hey, daddy's nude in the kitchen". Scott replied "That's be a great name for a band." and walked off.

Yup, just another day in the Kaye household.

kxx

I’m breaking out my secret cash

See? I've finally found a reason to use some of my secret cash after the major mp3 purchase of last year. Aside from the odd purse and shoes, of course.

So I heard on the radio about creepy contacts for Halloween. As I sat at my desk, I thought: "What a great idea! Subtle and really cool. That's for me." I drove across town and thought that they couldn't be more than about $30. In which case I could use our joint chequing account. When I finally got to Party Mart, I saw the great selection and settled on orange catlike eyes and pulled out my wallet. "That'll be $80 plus tax." she said cheerfully. "Gurk", I reply as I pull my secret bank card from the depths of my purse. Scott would never ever sanction this one. Not that he'd say no. He never does but he would say no to almost $100 spent on something I'll wear for all of 6 hours a year. And I had to have them. So it's a win/win situation.

kxx

Sneaky blog

Scott's home sick and hates that I do a blog (more because I spend time on it and make no money, not because he hates that I write) so I have to be sneaky about this. Every time he walks by I have to (... uh oh... that was him right then) switch windows to the weather channel website under the guise of checking the temperature.

Anyways, as this stress is totally sucking my creativity, this is going to be a lame blog today... oooooh it'll be 11C later... What do I hear around the house? Audrey found a kiddy piano and is pounding away at it. Henry sounds like he's moving furniture. Scott's calling the office and telling someone named Jeff that he's not coming in. Taz is moving around the house and meowing for attention. On the radio they're playing Fifty Mission Cap by the Hip. Awesome song by an awesome Canadian band.

Gotta go make sympathetic noises about Scott's illness (I hate when he's sick so I'll be faking it as usual... ooooooh that was bad) and get Audrey off to school. Have a great day.

kxx

I joined a gym on Monday

So now I'm a GoodLife member. I hated the sales job they used on me. They could have saved their breath since I was already convinced that I would go there. It's convenient by bus, bike and car, it's on the way home from work and 5 minutes away from home (by car anyway). Their classes are convenient for me and the step class I took on the weekend kicked my ass. Loved it.

Problems? Well the one I could see is the fact that in that step class, and in the whole place as a matter of fact, I was the errr, largest one there. And I'm okay enough with my body to know that I'm not a fat person. Big-boneded, yes, but definitely not fat. But the women that took the class and the teachers were thin. I mean vegan triathlete thin. Pierced-bellybutton thin. If-I-looked-like-that-I-wouldn't-be-at-a-gym-but-marvelling-at-my naked-body-at-home-in-a-full-length-mirror thin. What's up with that? There wasn't a "juicy" girl in the bunch. I had to represent us all.

There's also the fact that I have to actually pay unlike the free ride I got from the YMCA. But honestly, not having to give up my Sunday morning wiping butts and noses may be worth the $60 per month.

Great stuff about GoodLife? Carpeted change room (awesome coming out of the shower), great smell even at the end of the day... let's just say the Y is a community service and leave it at that. Oh, and the tvs. Eight gorgeous televisions all set to different channels. In my mind, that's what heaven looks like.

So I'm happy with my new purchase. I'm going again today to watch tv in peace. I mean to work out. And if I go often enough I'll be one of those ripped belly piercers too.

kxx

Good job Tylenol

I have to give kudos to the good folks at Tylenol who came up with an easy open package for their extra-strength pain relief pills. Child proof lids drive me absolutely nuts. And I don't suffer from anything more than a short fuse (besides the headache or cramps I need the pills for). And don't get me started on lining up the stupid arrows.

I understand the need for childproof packaging. Of course I do, I have kids. But when they swaddle my maple syrup within an inch of it's life so that I slice through my palm with the kitchen knife trying to open it when all I wanted was some sweet sweet goo for my morning Eggo, I have a problem. If they left the package alone all the kid would get would be a bit of a sugar rush. What's with the overkill on packaging?

Tamper-proof you say? Well I still say that the amount of product tampering that may go on is far outweighed by the frustration of trying to find something sharp to prise open the bloody ketchup bottle. Have you ever been to a kids' house after Christmas or a birthday? The way they attach the toys to the packaging, it's criminal. It makes you want to go back to simpler times and get your kid a bloody ball. I mean, I've seen doll hair sewn to a strip of plastic then in turn sewn to the cardboard box. I mean, what do they think they're playing at? Who is tampering with an effing Polly Pocket? Although to be honest, I guess they're so small they can be taken internally.

Let's go back to the pills, shall we? Once, in Miami I was PMSing big time and was trying to open one of those infernal packages. You would not want to have been there, I would have cut you (remember Kathy?). All I wanted was a Midol to calm my manaical symptoms and by the time I got my package open, I was ready to commit homicide. So thank you Tylenol. I know you made your new packaging for those with arthritis or some such ailment but all of us with PMS raise our tampons to you for your thoughtfulness.

kxx

Friday already?

Awww... I had so many other videos to add. Well in Karenworld I pretty much do as I please since I'm chief cook and bottle washer so I'm putting a bunch in. What can I say? When this is the only place you're ominpotent it quickly goes to your head.



My favourite "beatboxing flautist"




My favourite mum video



My favourite Norweigan video




My favourite Etta James remake




My favourite secret boyfriends (hands off)




And just because I love you (and them)



The last one, I promise...

Love song

This song is so up my alley. I understand every word. Why? Because you're reading the blog of someone who took just one semester of Spanish herself. I love the singer's pasty white chest in the unbuttoned shirt, all sexy like a drunken Irish pub rat. Minus the teeth in his fist and bloody nose of course.

My boss gets my goat

Okay, not really my goat but I liked the title. When this gorgeous goat came through consignment the other day, my boss found it and was the first to snag it. At first I was jealous but then realized that if I had it, it would get old fast but luckily I had my camera. Now I can enjoy it anytime I want and not have the hassle of getting rid of it when it drives me nuts.



Lonely Goatherd

I’ve posted about this before but it’s gold, I swear

Continuing the video blog week, I have to add this. Chad Vader is hysterical and inspired. Two things I aspire to be be never reach. You don't even have to be a Star Wars fan to find this hysterical. This is part 1 of about 8 but it's my favourite. Do yourself a favour and watch them all.

Look what I learned to do!

Oh boy are you guys in trouble. I learned to put a video in a blog. And to celebrate, all the blogs this week will be stuff I love from YouTube. First, though, I want to show you what I deal with on a daily basis in regards to Elliott (firstborn son, love of my life and shiny new sax player).He has to practice everyday and in doing so sends the family from the livingroom, forces me to put the captions on the tv and birds fly from their perches outside. I love the boy madly but...

What would you do with an hour left to go?

On the radio this morning the djs were talking about what they'd do if an asteroid was on collision course with the earth and we only had an hour left to live. Aside from the inevitable sex, praying and pigging out, the answers were pretty standard. Someone even said looting. Because getting the new iphone will fulfill you like nothing else. Sure. Way to make sure that you're going to hell. And yes, I believe in hell. I'm a good Catholic girl. Even though I haven't seen the inside of a church in over 2 years.

So what would I do?

I'd go to Blockbuster and rent a family movie and watch it with my little clan gathered around me. Not too inspired but in order not to freak out the kids and to keep them all in one place with me, I think the movie idea is a good one. Something cute and funny like Happy Feet or the Incredibles. Oh, and I'd bake a cake (out of a box... no time for scratch) and we'd eat the whole thing with no untensils. Nothing would be better than that for my final moments. What would you do?

And on that note, have a great weekend!

kxx

What happened to my old daughter?

Not that I'm complaining but this one is so darned agreeable.

We were having a third conversation about Halloween costumes. This one was terrific compared to the first one where she told me she wanted to be a mushroom. Thank goodness I waited that one out before saying no. You have to know that I hate buying costumes, I'd rather make them, but ironically I can't sew. Go figure. In the second conversation, she wanted to be a gypsy.
Woohoo. I can assemble that one without sewing or pulling out what's left of my hair.

In this conversation she stated that she didn't want to be a gypsy anymore because Rachel was going to be a gypsy. She wanted to be a genie. Several things went through my head at once:

1) I can 't easily assemble a genie costume, I may have to buy this one;
2) Audrey's not the slimmest girl in her class. Barbara Eden she ain't;
3) This is Canada. At the end of October. At night. Average temperature? 0.

So I say "no" to her and brace for the inevitable screamfest. It doesn't come. She shrugged her shoulders and said "Okay, me and Rachel will be gypsy sisters!" What happened to the slightly hysterical and tantrummy daughter I used to have? Honestly, I do not want her back. I love this new and improved version.

kxx

Internet Schminternet

Low tech to the rescue!

I remember when my dad bought our set of encyclopedia. There was actually a door-to-door salesman involved who coerced my dad into the 22 volume "leather-bound" set of World Books (including the Reference Guide, of course). They sure looked good sitting in our family room making us look like the smartest West Indians on the block. I copied....errr... researched every high school project out of them. That set of books was my internet. A heavy, awkward pain-in-the-ass, internet. Did you know the whole set could fit on 2 cds? Sigh.

Flash forward to yesterday. Audrey needed some information on Newfoundland and Labrador for school (actually Terre-Neuve but that's neither here nor there). She went online and found some photos but after labouriously typing some info into Notebook, she promptly lost the work she did during dinner when she forgot to save it and the computer went into sleep mode.
Before the waterworks started, I told Elliott to run down to my room and get the N-O World book. Sure enough, information on N&L was there. Okay, the stuff was woefully out of date... the thing was published in 1974 so it wasn't Newfoundland and Labrador yet and the flag was different but she got what she needed in glorious, vibrant black and white. I say again, internet, schminternet.

kxx

What’s in a name?

I have a friend who recently changed her name. I've heard of people doing this but never knew anyone who actually did it. She said that her name never accurately reflected who she was and that made me pause.

We're given our names before we have our personalities. How many times have we met someone whose name keeps escaping us because they don't "look" like that name? If they changed it, it'd make it easier to remember, sure, but what about their personality or looks? That'll stay the same. I read somewhere that "Cameron" means "crooked nose". Does that doom Cameron to look like his name? I'm not sure.

My dad recently told me that he and my mum were thinking of naming me Tara. Would I be a different person as Tara? Do I even look like a Tara? I sure don't feel like a Tara. And what if I chose my new name as an adult? Would I expect people who've known me for 40 years to immediately call me by my new name? Or just introduce myself to new people by my new name? Would I even answer to it in public if called? Hang up on people who asked for the new name on the phone because I forgot that it was me?

Growing up I never liked the name Karen. I was always one of a hockey team of Karens in every grade in school. I hated that but got used to it. Now I actually like it. No Tara for me. No offense to any Taras out there but it's just not me. I kinda like Ivy, though. I don't feel like an Ivy, though.

When Audrey was named I wanted her to be Isabel so bad that I called her that for a week. But Audrey stuck and now I can't even imagine her being Isabel.

In my bar days I'd give a fake name all the time. "Olivia Davis" after my two favourite actresses back then... Olivia DeHavilland and Bette Davis. I'd give it out and think "they must know I'm lying... that so isn't me". But they never did.

In my travels, I've met 2 women with really cool names: Violet Greene and Kat Wolf. Both are married names and I can bet that they were thrilled to take their hubby's last names. Well, my name is pretty run-of-the-mill... boring, even. But I wouldn't give it up or change it for anything. Within reason.

kxx

Aaaaaahhhh holiday Monday

Happy Thanksgiving!

I read in bed until 9:30 this morning, I did a load of laundry, I'm still in my jammies at nearly noon and I'm watching the Jeffersons on tv. Life is good.

Later I'll watch the Tudors on tape and my soap opera "live" and cook a sumptious dinner of turkey, stuffing, mac & cheese, salad and veggies. With cake for dessert. Heaven.
And just to let you know, I did get an invite from Shelley last minute. We ate over at the farm Saturday night after a Friday night call from her. Knew it! And we saw baby Deya and her parents and everyone's happy and healthy and beautiful. It's a Thanksgiving miracle.
Have a great day, I know I will. Showering is optional.

kxx

Miss me?

Look, ma it's after 3pm and I'm only now writing a blog! I have no explanation only excuses. Today is a PD day for the kids so I made them clean their rooms. Being the good example that I am, I cleaned up too. My words would hold no sway if I made them do dungeon duty while I watched tv and blogged (much as I wanted to). So blame the good parent gene in me (it does surface now and again) for the late blog. Now onto more interesting things. For you, at least...

Happy Thanksgiving to us Canadians! I've been holding out buying a turkey and all the trimmings because for the last few years my SIL has invited us to dinner at the last minute.
Year after year I've bought a turkey only to have to freeze it for the Christmas dinner. One year I even invited the neighbours over only to be the worst neighbour ever and uninvite them at the last minute because of a brain-fart of Shelley's. I did and do ask her if she's having a thing and she always says "no" only to change her mind last minute. So I'm buying nothing until Saturday afternoon.

On a completely related note, I have a question about vaccination scars. Why do I and everyone around my age have a pretty big one on our arm and my kids don't have one at all? Did they use a bigger straw-like needle? Was the vaccination more poisononous? Why do we have a scar for life? The kids're innoculated just like us. So what's with the lack of life-long proof?

Just something to ponder as you tuck into your turkey this weekend. maybe a little dinner conversation. If any of you find out the answer, let me know. I'm not in a googly place right now. The floor's not going to mop itself, you know. Thanks and have a great long weekend!

kxx

I’m so not interesting today.

Not sure what to write today. Looks like it's another stream-of-consiousness blog. Sorry. The up side is that I'm off tomorrow to be with the kids on their PD Day and I can write something really profound. You know how profound I am... Shut up.

I was going to fill in one of those "get to know me" email questionnaires for you but seriously, you know all that stuff already. Favourite question? 34. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Life, America's Next Top Model and Coronation Street.

Three Days Grace on the radio again? They play this too much.

I'm drinking Acai juice. Supposed to be good for you. Something about antioxidants. I think it tastes good. Blueberry-like. I think it compliments the bagel and Cheez Whiz nicely. Besides, what's an antioxidant when it's at home?

I'm giving blood tonight. Woohoo... free doughnuts! I may also check out the grocery store for some new clothes. Doughnuts and shopping. A perfect night.

S.H.I.T!

kxx

24 Hours in Vegas

My favourite radio station is doing it again. They're giving away a prize that consists of 24 hours in Las Vegas. No hotel room, no tickets to anything, just a plane-load of Ottawans let loose in Sin City for a day.

Now on the surface, this sounds like a blast. Then I realize the logistical nightmare that could come of this. I'd need a sitter to sleep here overnight and get the kids to school if it's a school day. I like to sleep. What do I want with a trip that doesn't provide me with an actual bed? A better trip for parents of young kids? A 24 hour bed-in at the nearest motel. With room service. This is definitely a prize for those:

a) without kids;

b) without jobs

c) without comittments of any kind or

d) all of the above.

Then there's the Vegas aspect. I've been there for a four day weekend and even that wasn't enough. There was so much to see. I could spend 24 hours at The Star Trek Experience alone. Yes, I'm aware of what that makes me, thank you.

Anyway, if you go to Cirque de Soleil, say, then go for dinner and gamble a little you're done. Call me crazy but that doesn't sound like a prize to me. I'd much rather win movie passes.

The preparation for the trip would take more time than the trip itself. You'd have to find the perfect outfit since you don't have time to change. No luggage. You'd have to wear (ugh!) comfortable shoes. I don't know. This sounds like no prize.

kxx

Holla Dolla!

Aren't I cool? Did you see how I used the kids' lingo?

I just wanted to congratulate the Canadian loonie for it's superiority over the American greenback. It's been a little over 100 cents for about a week.

Now you'd think such a financial coup would translate to us little people. That we as consumers (some of us frequent) would see the delicious benefits. But not so much. Are clothes cheaper? No. Is food cheaper? Nope. Is gas cheaper? Hell, no. I have heard tell that Canadians are buying American real estate in droves, though. Has nothing to do with me. Neither does the fact that I can shop on my American holiday considering I can barely afford to get myself and my family on the cross-town bus.

You know what really drives me nuts? It's the books. On all books and magazines sold here the price is in CDN$ and USD$. Printed directly on the cover. Up until about a week ago, the American price was a bit below the Canadian one allowing for the exchange rate. And rightly so. No debating that. But now that we've achieved near parity, shouldn't Canadian book prices be the same price or even (gasp!) cheaper than American? Even though it's pre-printed on the item, couldn't our awesomeness be translated at the register?

Someone has to be able to reap the benefits from this other than people with deep pockets who can travel to and buy a house in America. What about us little guys? All I want is a damn People magazine.

kxx

Yawn.

After sleeping in 2 days in a row and not showering for same, I'm awake and showered and ready to go at 7:30am. Doesn't mean I'm not tired, though. And good for me, I'm biking to work this morning.

On Friday Audrey came home from school and declared that her friend Rachel would be coming over for dinner. They'd set it all up at school and one phone call would seal the deal at precisely 3:30pm that day. Not wanting to break my only daughter's heart, I said okay. Operation Win Over Mummy With Fluttering Eyelashes And Big Smiles was in full effect. What I neglected to mention was that Friday was leftover parfait night with fruit bars for dessert because we have an empty fridge by then because of the menu plan I follow.

When Scott came home at 5:30, Audrey's best friend Rachel was already here and the girls were playing quietly in Audrey's room. Whoever came up with the equation stating that removing one of three kids from a room reduces the noise factor by 80% is a genius. Even works when you add a child to the mix.

So anyway, Scott suggests that we order in and to my surprise I say no. I didn't mention I saw my fat thighs in a photo of myself (in a local newspaper, no less) on dragonboat weekend and fought to keep down my breakfast. Nope, I was in cobble together mood. We had frozen fish filets (box chipped from the side of the deep freeze), salad from a bag (another genius invention) and carrots fresh from my neighbour's garden. Don't worry, they were given to me that afternoon. All above board. And because I have an amazingly stocked baking pantry, we had these molten chocolate cakes. Seriously, I love my kitchen.

kxx

Go Henderson Go!

And I don't mean my child.

Today is the 35th anniversary of the goal that changed Canada. Paul Henderson was a pretty good Leafs player back in the day but when he scored the winning goal in the Canada/Russia Summit series with 34 seconds to go, he became a Canadian legend. A total hero. Every Canadian kid wanted to grow up to play hockey after that day. He scored on the best goalie on the planet. A Russian who's name still strikes fear... Tretiak.

Everyone in the country was watching that game. When we won, every Canadian felt like they were on the ice helping the team. I was only 5 but I still remember my dad watching the game and screaming with joy. He had taken the day off to watch it. Our neighbours poured out onto our street to clap each other on the back and celebrate when it was over.

After that series, Canada became a force in hockey. We expect a lot from our players and we're rabid and possessive about our game.

Henry just started playing this year. I'm trying to get him to choose jersey 19. And today I'm calling him by his full name Henderson and telling everyone that we named him after Paul.

kxx

Ack! A new blog

I have to get the 2/3 of the kids ready to go and I have to get ready for a staff meeting. I also have yet to blog. I'm running a bit late this morning as you would imagine so a throway blog is in order. Sorry everyone.

Would You Rather

Would you rather have a terrible, rank smell in your nose constantly--or--Have your nose perpetually stuffed up?

Think about that smell. It could be like stinky cheese or really bad BO. Enough to make you nauseous. Eternally following you. What about having a stuffed nose? We've all had colds. You can't taste foods and you talk funny. Your head feels cloudy all the time.

So which would you rather?

I'm interested in this one. I've had both this week due to hay fever and I can't decide. Both sucked.

Gotta go,
kxx

This seems to be ad week

Okay, two days ago I was crowing on about how much I love this Kinks song. I put it in my profile and I absolutely can not resist moving my shoulders to those first 6 notes. Then I get up and dance. Not unlike the ungainly hippo in Fantasia but that's neither here nor there.

Well, the lovely folks at Joe Fresh Style have responded to my email (and tons of others, apparently) and put the ad on their website. I've got one word for theose people. Yay. You wouldn't believe from this stellar commercial that these clothes are only available at a grocery store. You heard.

So here's the link to the ad I love right now (click "Emmy Awards Spot: Happiness"). I want to promise that this is the last you'll hear of it but I can't. And you know I'm going to be shopping there. After all, I am an advertiser's wet dream.

kxx

Why I hate politics

I don't like politics. Frankly, it's a case of I'm-bored-with-what-I-don't-understand. Politics are complicated and I have a very short attention span. We have a provincial election coming up and I usually vote Liberal. I know there are shades of grey in everything but my thoughts on Liberals vs. Conservative are black and white. Easy. Right-to-choose vs. Anti-abortion. Immigration vs. closed borders. As a female black child of immigrants, how can I vote any other way but Liberal?

And the TV ads are so irritating. Remember how yesterday I told you all how I loved commercials? Well not political ads. All overexposed with men (usually) smiling smiles that look like they'd happily take a bite out of your cheek. And don't get me started on negative campaign ads. They drive me nuts. As an uninformed voter I'm so not interested in the terrible crime the other guy committed or geriatric he didn't help across the street. I want to know in chewable byte sized nuggets, what you will do for me. And in that respect the Liberals win again.
Dalton tells me that he will invest money in education every single night. Hey, I have kids in school. That's good. All John tells me is that Dalton pretty much sucks. Um.. yeah. He's a politician. You all pretty much suck.

Look, I'm no idiot. I know they all promise me things to get my vote. Things that they back down on when they get into office. But attack ads just irritate me and make me want to vote for anyone but the attacker. Thank goodness the "good guys" aren't doing it. Maybe they don't do it because they can't. Anyway, I don't get too excited about it. I just shut up and tick the Liberal box.

kxx

Get the frug out of here

I've said it before and I'll say it again. A good ad is like a little piece of candy from the Pot of Gold tray or a little shot of adrenaline. A good commerical can make you laugh or cry (sometimes both) in less time than it takes to make a sandwich. With Cheez Whiz. I've even been known to stop and play ads that look unfamiliar as I'm fast-forwarding through the dreck.

Lately I've been discovering music on ads. Did you know there are websites out there dedicated to helping you find elusive ad music? I'm so delighted by this. Because now instead of dancing while the ad is on and looking like a complete fool, I can download it and play it on my mp3. I discovered Bedouin Soundclash and The Snitches this way (thank you Zellers). Telus has good tunes too. Now I've discovered... wait for it.... The Kinks.

Yes, a little up and coming band with a 60s vibe that has me off my frugging couch every night. Yay Joe Fresh fashions. Seriously... I'd never heard this amazing song before and I had to search like crazy before I found it and where do you think? Right under my nose, here at MySpace. It's my new profile song and I love it more than cake right now.

Go listen. You'll love it. It's Monday. Trust me, you'll need the frugging break.

kxx

The mantle has been passed

There was a big spider in the bathroom this morning. I wasn't in freak-out mode (yet!) but I was keeping one eye on it and the other was looking around for something in room to squash it. It was quickly and steadily coming down to where I could hit it with a shoe but I was in the bathroom in my jammies. No shoe and if I left to get one, it would be gone. And my imagination would have it in all sorts of places from my toothbrush to my towel. Ugh.

Suddenly my saviour arrives. Not Scott but in the form of an 80 pound, gangly 11 year old. When I told Elliott about the spider, he calmly took a kleenex, mashed it between his fingers and calmly dropped the kleenex in the toilet. With none of the shaming, teasing or humiliation that would have been heaped on me by his father. Looks like I have a new go-to guy in terms of spidercide.

kxx

AUDREEEEEYYY!!!

Uck! What a way to wake up in the morning.

Remember all that complaining I do about my dreams being boring? Well I take it back. Just before I woke up I dreamt that Audrey and her friend Jasmine were playing hide-and-seek in the yard. Jasmine came up to the house saying that she couldn't find Audrey. We searched the whole house and neighbourhood calling out to her before the alarm clock went off. You know that feeling you get the first few times you call out that you'll find whoever it is... that everything's fine? Well that feeling started to melt away into panic and thankfully the clock went off before I got into full-on freak-out mode.

When I got out of bed I went straight into her room and gave her a hug and kiss. I even told her to watch out for that Jasmine. And you know I'll be keeping a close eye on her for the next little while. Maybe the dream was my subconsious telling me to do just that.

kxx

Ohhhmmmm....

Yup, looks like another stream-of-consciousness blog. I've got nothing going on but the rent. Sorry guys...

Let's see:
*The radio's on. I'm listening to the rock alternative station Live 88.5. They just played "Timebomb" by Beck. Cool song.

*My back is sore since I paddled right on the dragonboat last night for the first time ever. It was weird. Like writing with the wrong hand.

*I just called out to Audrey to remind her to brush her teeth... wow, this is boring. I'm not burdening you all with today's blog anymore. See you tomorrow.

kxx

I’m biking to work again today

On nice days I like to bike in to work. It's a 30 minute ride and it's one of the prettiest rides in town. Now let me clarify that I ride my bike and not race my bike to work. Because on the way I'll pass Greg LeMond wannabees (or Lance Armstrong for you kids out there) dressed to the nines in their tightest Tour De France sexywear and riding $1200 racing bikes. To commute to work. Whatever.

In case you didn't get the pretty part of the ride above, let me explain the best part of the route. It starts at Andrew Haydon Park then goes east through to Brittania beach. The trail on both sides is lined by trees. Through the trees to the north I can see the Ottawa River just a few metres away. I see ducks, frogs, Canada geese, gulls, and even great blue herons on the shore looking for breakfast. On this part of the trail I've seen rabbits, groundhogs, chipmunks, squirrels and snakes. So amazing. And I see at least half these animals each time I go out. It's truly amazing.

I think it's so gorgeous and I'm so privileged to see this stuff that I often get off my bike to take it all in. I'll get off when I see a heron which I find huge and beautiful and once I got down to watch a snake slither across the path. I dutifully pull my bike off to the side and sit for 5 minutes. When I'm done I'll get back on my bike and dorkily (I admit it) call out to the people I pass that there's something cool ahead. I always get roundly ignored and sometimes I get looks like I'm a nutjob. Why? Because I enjoy my bike ride and want to share it with people? Because I don't wear a speed suit and ride my bike with my head down ignoring the gorgeousness around me? And I'm the kook? Alrighty then. Sign me up for a double helping of crazy, please.

kxx

Whew! Thank God it’s Monday

Weekend Recap:

Friday: After work I got measured and fitted for a new bra. I had to rush as I didn't want to leave the kids alone for long. Got a nice one, though. BTW, its a 38C.

Saturday: Scott took 50 plastic airplane models (a drop in the bucket that is his "hobby shop/office", really) to a trade show to try to sell them. He was there most of the day. The rest of us did groceries at the store where I feel the least embarrassed to drag around 3 indifferent children. Of course it's the most expensive as well. No problems, I'll gladly pay for the privilege. And the free cookie to keep them quiet. Later we took Audrey took her to her horse-back riding lesson and at night Scott went to see Genesis.

Sunday: I had another dragonboat competition. I got a ride and the kids couldn't come since Scott had to take them to hockey sort-outs. Poor Audrey had to go too but it couldn't be helped. Oh, and we came in 5th out of 10 boats. Hey, we weren't last. At night I did laundry since Elliott needed clean gym clothes for today. At least he didn't tell me this morning. And laundry is no longer a chore, anyway. I can also do other things while it's running now. Because I no longer get hypnotised by the spinning drum.

And that was our weekend. I'm so glad it's Monday so I can rest.

kxx