Halloween is coming!

I put an exclamation point at the end of that sentence even though I don't feel particularly excited about he prospect of stupid Halloween. There are reasons that I previously explained here and here.

I work in a Jewish preschool and I'm praying that they don't celebrate. How wonderful would it be if I didn't have to spend a whole workday pretending to love dressing up and gorging on candy I don't love but will eat because it's there. That's why I love these contacts and horns so much.

They take no effort and throw them on no matter what you have on and voilà... costume. Also, I was shaving my head this morning and realized I could also do a modified male pattern baldness thing, so if I have to I can do that. If I have to. Again, no effort involved to be an elderly demon or something. Of course I work in a preschool and being responsible for perhaps thousands of dollars of post traumatic stress disorder psychotherapy is not part of my job description. So maybe the eyes and horns are out anyway.

Audrey wants to be a gypsy and already has her costume so that's something I don't have to think about. Elliott's going to a party and wants to wear his "ironic ghost" costume again so that's a plus so this year I only have to deal with Henry in terms of a costume.

I wonder if he'd let me near him with my hair clippers?

kxx

I learned something!

Look at this! This is SO. COOL. I was mentioning to a friend that I can never remember which side my gas tank is on. She told me that if I looked at that little arrow beside the gas gauge inside the car, I can avoid choosing the wrong side each and every time, requiring an embarrassing 3 point turn in the middle of the service station. Have you ever done this? Flammable gas pumps, people darting from out of nowhere, kids filling their tires with air, pissed off people waiting to get into my vacated spot... yes, I'm that girl.

Anyway, this stupid little arrow will save me a lot of stress and humiliation and keep a lot of grouchy Ottawans from spraining their rolling eyes as they watch me make yet another 3 point turn in the middle of, well, everything.

kxx

What the hell are you wearing, woman?

So a few weeks ago I bought a pair of skinny jeans. Unfortunately when I put them on I didn't get any skinnier but they did look okay so I took the leap and bought them. I'm still on the fence about them and the irony there is I couldn't even scale, let alone get to the top of a fence while I'm wearing them. I can barely sit down. They are snug. Spanx snug.

I have no idea how to wear them. I seem to feel the need to wear mini dresses and long tops so that they look like tights. Or jeggings. Or whatever. I usually wear them with ballet flats but today I thought I'd try Converse. I chickened out when I looked in the mirror and saw a mutton dressed as a lamb and it was back to the ballet flats for me. It's enough that I'm a curvy girly in these sausage casing pants. I didn't need to look like a freaking 17 year old, fat, Black, lesbian, Justin Bieber fan.

Anyway, I'm still hot and cold on them. It definitely depends on my state of mind before I squeeze myself into them. That's one thing in the "pros" column about these pants. Nothing jiggles when they're on. I just have to ignore the spots that appear and disappear in my periphery after wearing them for a few hours. A definite "con". As I type this I've already switched to sweatpants. Blessed blessed sweatpants.

kxx

What a week (reprise)

It seems like I post this every week but when am I going to have 2 evenings in a row with all of us at home at 6pm? I think I'm spoiled since in our lives together, we've had the bulk of our dinners. We sat and ate a meal I'd lovingly slaved over cooked and we talked about our days, joked, watched tv (yes, I know...) and generally just enjoyed each other. Fantastic.

All summer at least one of us has been gone every single night. There have been sleepovers, playdates, sporting events and concerts. Meetings, appointments, parties and get-togethers. It's especially bad when it's me since I'm the dinner maker. When I don't cook the rest of them have sandwiches and/or leftovers for dinner. And I can't even explain to you the guilt I feel when I'm having fun paddling, knowing that everyone at home is having cheese and crackers for dinner. Ugh.

This week is the same. Monday was Curriculum Night at my preschool and I had to be there by 6:30. Tuesday night was dragonboat for me and hockey for Elliott. Today we have Audrey's guitar lesson from 5:30-6:30 and Elliott has a parent/teacher conference at 7pm. Tomorrow Audrey and Henry have their school conference from 5-7pm. Imagine that... over dinner again. And what's this I see? Dinner together on Friday? Don't bank on it. It's free as of this moment but it's still early.

I'm so tired.

kxx

Ack! I haven't posted since Wednesday?

Sorry everyone! My new job keeps me hopping and even though it's part time, I still have to cram everything I would have done all day into a few hours. Plus there's homework, cooking/baking, the new fall television season is starting... something had to give.

In fact, I've been finding that my creative juices have been drying up over the past 5 years of blogging and while I'll never stop writing, I think I need to blog a little less. There are times when I'll write one of my terrible stream-of-consciousness blogs and apologize to the ether as I click the "publish" button. I need to work on getting my groove back. Or actually getting a groove in the first place.

I've always thought that if I miss even one blog, I'd lose rafts of readers. But I think that writing shitty posts may do that faster. Besides, I didn't start this blog to satisfy lots of readers. It was to fulfill myself.

I'm going to start blogging only when I have something cool/funny/interesting to share. The focus, as always will be me. I'm sticking with the adage "write what you know" and the only thing I'm an expert on is yours truly, so... there you go.

I'll still be writing most of the week, trust me. You can't get rid of me that easily. I'll definitely do fewer Wordless Wednesday posts and cut out the Flashback Fridays altogether. At first it was a way to get you to read my older, cleverer posts but I say to you with every kindness and respect: "read the archives yourselves, you lazy so-and-so's".

So off you go... enjoy your days. There's nothing to see here. Literally. I have some baking to do for a parent/teacher thing we have at the school tonight and I have to make dinner as well, help the kids with their homework, show the kids and my husband that I actually remember who they are, and try to get a good night's sleep and do it all over again in the morning. You know, the usual stuff.

See you tomorrow. Maybe. ;-)

kxx

Not very Wordless Wednesday

I'm not a dog lover but there is something about Bostons. Looka dat face! They're small and kinda weird looking. Like a certain blogger we're all familiar with. If (and that's a BIG "if") I ever get a dog, this'll be the brand. Wait... it's not a brand when it comes to dogs, is it? It's ummmm.... BREED. Yes, breed. See? I should never own a dog.

kxx

I think I'm going to like this semester.

Elliott has only started grade 10 a week ago and I'm seeing something interesting. He actually seems to like a class. It's quite the switch from previous years when he would have named phys-ed, recess, music, and shop as his favourites. Ah, my high achiever.

Anyway, since school started he's been crowing on and on (and on) about history and his history teacher. He'll be studying Canadian history from the First World War until the '80s. I'm delighted that he's taken to it so much. He wouldn't stop talking about it in the car the other day and to see his eyes sparkle about school... Finally!

Today he showed me a handout that the teacher gave him. It had me howling. It's "If World War I Was A Bar Fight". With a teacher like this, and Elliott already this engaged, I can't wait for the rest of the year.

kxx



kxx

I'm invincibile!

There are many things that happen in a mother's life that make her feel like she can do anything. It can be as simple as writing a letter from the tooth fairy explaining why she didn't come last night... something to do with air speed and time of tooth loss and nothing at all to do with her drinking too much wine and passing out on the couch at 9pm. Another example could be oh, say, baking cookies for a certain lifeguard 10 minutes before the kids' final swimming lesson.

Last week that Supermum feeling extended to my new daycare job. A boy asked me to open one of those cheese string packets. I did and handed it back to him. Unfortunately I hadn't opened it to his satisfaction and as he pulled out the cheese, about an inch of the cheese broke inside the packet.

Him (crestfallen): My cheese is broken! Fix it!!
Me: Oh, sweetie, it still tastes yummy in two pieces, don't worry. (HA. Imagine trying to be reasonable with a 4 year old...)
Him: My cheese is broken!! FIX IT!!
Me (Uh oh... I take the pieces and squish the two parts together and precariously hand it back): See there you go. All fixed!
Him: THAT'S NOT FIXED!

Hoo boy. I was in trouble. As I looked at the pieces in my hand I did the only thing I could think of with that little one inch bit. 


I palmed it.

Me (I handed back the woefully short cheese with a flourish and held my breath): Ta da! It was tricky but I attached them again. There you go!
Him (examining it suspiciously then breaking into a smile): Thank you Morah Karen!

Disaster averted.

And now I know for sure that my many years of stellar mothering will translate into a successful career in daycare. Now I just need a couple of tricks to dispose of chunks of food hidden up my sleeve.

kxx

Flashback Friday

I'm watching old episodes of MasterChef on PVR and I'm listening for a word that pops out and that word is... "attitude".

So please read about Elliott's first crummy grade from February 2006. Prophetically, it wasn't his last and strangely, he's gone on to be very proficient on the sax and the bagpipes. Go figure.

kxx

Do I have to be Muslim to issue a fatwa?

Because if not, someone at OC Transpo is in all kinds of trouble.

I've been thrust into the world of public transit due to this new job. Fine. No matter that I had to be up at 5:45 in order to run before work. Explaining why I run before work and not after a part time job that has me home by 2pm is another blog.

So my first day (Tuesday) went like this:

5:45- alarm goes off
5:55- tear myself out of bed, dress for the run, pound a glass of water and stumble outside
6am- haul my carcass for 5k then cool down by walking around the park. Look, a heron!
7am- shower, dress, put my face on, have breakfast, pack my lunch, head out the door for the bus.
7:40- catch the 152, transferring once to the 85, listening to a podcast along the way
8:20- arrive at work stress free. Wonderful way to start the day.

Wednesday went like this:

5:45- alarm goes off
5:55- tear myself out of bed, dress for the run, pound a glass of water and stumble outside
6am- haul my carcass 5k then cool down by walking around the park. Look, a heron (I think it was the same one as yesterday)
7am- shower, dress, put on my face, have breakfast, pack my lunch, head out the door for the bus.

Here's where things go horribly, horribly awry. Instead of taking the first transfer, I decided to walk. I thought (first mistake... stop thinking, stupid brain) that I could take a nice walk and reduce my buses by half. I got to the transfer point in plenty of time. In fact I arrived at roughly the same time that yesterday's bus did. I guess that was a big "roughly" because I waited and waited and waited. Watching bus after bus that isn't yours going by has to be the worst feeling in the world. When mine finally came it meandered down the road, picking barely ambulatory people up at every stop. If I never hear the beep beep of the "kneeling bus" again, it'll be too soon.

8:30 (the time I start work)- I'm officially freaking out. I stop my Nerdist podcast and I'm having an embolism trying to Scanners everyone waiting for the bus along the route. If there were headless bodies just lying at the stops he wouldn't have to pick them up anymore, am I right?
8:37 (7 minutes late)- futilely texting my boss telling her that I'm late (no d'uh) and that I'm beyond sorry and embarrassed. After all, it's only my second flipping day at this job.
8:42 (12 minutes late)- finally arrive at work. I'm fuming, stressed out and have a headache starting behind my eyes. Wonderful way to start the day.

Today went better. Unfortunately I was so scared I'd be late again that I set the clock for 5:30 (help me, Baby Jesus... I've gone from a summer of sleeping in until 9 to a blaring alarm clock at the ass-crack of dawn). So yes, I got there on time today (in fact 20 minutes early *eyeroll*) but at what cost? It's 3:30 and I'm just about ready for bed. And I have dragonboat in 3 hours. Sigh.

kxx

(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday

This is so funny!

What we SHOULD have been taught in our senior year at high school. Let me just add that as good Canadians, we learned the metric system. All the other subjects still stand.

kxx

Granny Panties!

I showered and dressed this morning and reached my hand into my unmentionables drawer. I fished around in the dark (remember it's 5:45am and the house is still sleeping) and pulled out what I thought was a t-shirt. Before I could wonder why a t-shirt was in my incredibly organised (HA!) drawer, I realized I was clutching a previously dreaded granny panty.

When I was younger, after bucking it for years, I was all about the thong. I even blogged about the first time I tried one out. That phase lasted for years. After that I went for "boy shorts". Those didn't work out so well when I found they didn't go high enough in the waist. There's nothing like getting a glimpse of yourself in the mirror looking like John Goodman in short shorts. Brrr. There are sights that you can never unsee no matter how hard you try. I'm looking into hypnotism to deal with the trauma.

Then came the final realization that grannies have really got something here. They cover the unsightly "beer gut" (thanks, kids) and they never, ever ride up. So what if it looks like I'm wearing a one piece bathing suit when I'm fully undied up but when I bend down in my hip huggers, you'll only see my black Fruit Of The Looms and not my ass crack. Score.

I think we have a winner, folks. I mean, after 23 years, who am I trying to seduce? I've got the guy. I'm well past middle age so I deserve to be comfortable under my clothes if nowhere else (I'm looking at you 2 hour Louboutins). So it's granny panties for the win.

kxx

Happy Anniversary!

Yesterday was the 23rd anniversary of the day that Scott and I first met.

I'm not one of those "anniversary women". You know the ones who think that the first time you held hands or the first time you shared a milkshake is cause for celebration. And God help him if he forgets the first time you washed your undies in the same machine.

But when it comes to this anniversary, it's really important to me. We don't exchange gifts or cards like we do for our wedding anniversary but there's an unspoken understanding that if not for this anniversary, there would be no others. No wedding, no house, no kids, no cat no nothing. Zilch. Plus, I put in 5 looooonnng years before our actual wedding day and to discount all that time would cause a cosmic rift in the continuum of time and space where we'd be thrown headlong into the untempered schism of... what? Heh. Too much Doctor Who this weekend.

So Happy 23rd Anniversary, lovey! You know I think you hung the moon. For what it's worth, this is the anniversary of us and our life together. That wedding thing was just a part of the journey that started on that fateful day.

kxx

Flashback Friday

Woo hoo! Long weekend!

What to do... what to do...

I know! A flashback post about holidays, of course.

Not exactly the Labour Day holiday but I thought it was amusing. It was from August 2009. See you Monday. Enjoy the last long weekend of the summer. If you need me I'll be crying into my tank tops.

kxx

What's in your purse?

I own lots of handbags. In fact, I have more purses than shoes and that's saying a lot. I won't go into specifics but let's say I have at least 2 in every colour on the colour wheel. At least two of every colour. So naturally I change purses quite often. In fact today since I was going to a couple of different places for a couple of different occasions I used two different ones and had to empty the big one out to use the small one.

I went to work today with one of my biggest bags. Wanna know what was inside? Thought so.

-2 chapsticks (one cherry, one regular)

- a bottle of hand sanitiser

- a container of hand lotion

- face powder

- perfume (Clean Shower Fresh)

- Stila cheek and lip stain

- my wallet (14 cards, $10, a blank cheque and a $20 cheque I keep meaning to cash)

- my cell

- my iTouch

- earbuds

- a file folder containing a bunch of paperwork 

- 2 packs of gum

- a packet of Listerine Pocket Packs (hm... worried about bad breath much?)

- a pen

- an mp3/ cell charger

- a camera

- keys

- eyeglasses

- prescription sunglasses

- packet of kleenex
- a black hoodie

- my business cards (they were funnier when I didn't actually have a job)

- a bagel with cream cheese

- an apple

-a travel mug of tea

And that's the contents of my bag. Wasn't that illuminating? What can you take away from my purse contents psychologically? Well, that I like soft and clean hands and I worry about my lips and breath. Also I don't get too hungry during the day and I obviously have a big-ass, heavy bag. It looks a lot like this:

Now let me get to bed so I can get the energy to haul this around one more day...

kxx