Well our annual trip out to Abram lake to go camping started out a little rocky. It began with a sick child waking us up at 6:30am because he was sick and Bob ended up taking him up to emerg to be treated for strep throat. He stayed behind with his dad, and I took the other 4 children out to the lake.
This has already been a beautiful summer even if I have only enjoyed a few weeks of it to date. When we arrived in Sioux Lookout it was in the plus 30s with the humidex. Bob had brought the camper up the day before and got everything set up for me. We always have a site with electricity, water and sewer hookup. This is as close to roughing it as I have endeavoured with this gaggle of children and my need for my flat iron. So the minute we arrive we turn on the air conditioning. Make sure the doors and windows are closed and wait for the coolness to settle on our sweating, stinky skin. Once everything was transferred from my Suburban to the camper and then unpacked we were still waiting for the coolness to settle in. It wasn't happening. Long story short, the air conditioner is not working. So, we opened all of the windows and thankfully the fan system does work, so we had some air circulating to make things bearable. The following torrential down pour with accompanying hail storm also cooled things off that evening. No hail damage where we were, but 5 minutes down the road there was. Lucky us.
I turned the water on outside to get it flowing to the camper. I checked the kitchen water tap and out flowed a pinkish water. Bob forgot to flush the antifreeze stuff out of the pipes before he left. That's okay. I just let it run for a bit. After I had done this I headed outside. I quickly noticed that there was water running from under my bathroom outside the camper. I yelled to Jessica to check the bathroom! Well the shower taps were on and water was spraying around the bathroom. If that weren't bad enough, let me tell you the real kicker. Because we don't use the teeny tiny little shower in the camper, I had the brilliant idea to put a plastic shelving unit in there. The other brilliant idea was for Dom and Noah to put all of their clothes in plastic laundry baskets, which fit perfectly into the plastic shelves. So, that being said, your next visual should be two laundry baskets of clean clothes getting sprinkled with pink water. When her brilliantness put the shelving unit in the shower/tub I guess I inadvertently hit the tap to the on position and there you have it, wet bathroom, wet clothes. I hung some of the clothes up and had to wash some others. Nothing stained with the pink stuff thankfully.
Fast forward to a week later. I knew I was going to have to drain the waste water tanks in the camper. I had never done it before, but I know as my favourite saying goes, "it isn't rocket science". So my dear brother in law Pete came over to supervise. He told Jessica that she should hold the sewer hose/pipe to make sure it stays in the ground while the liquids go down. So picture Jessica lying under the camper on a towel holding the sewer pipe which runs from the camper into the ground.
Next, I don a pair of rubber gloves for this task. Again under Pete's watchful eye, I crawl under the camper and I pull the "black water valve". For those of you who don't camp in a camper this would be for anything that comes from the toilet. We pretty much have a don't poop in the camper policy. There is a lovely bathroom/shower house meters from our camper. There was a short gushing sound and then nothing. Pete says uh oh, it must be blocked. I'm thinking "crap", no pun intended. Then we notice. When my dear sweet husband brought the camper up, he hooked up the sewer hose/pipe thingy so I wouldn't have to, however we have an outdoor kitchen which has a separate tank/drain. He hooked the hose up to that drain, not the one I was just yanking on. We hadn't used the outdoor sink, so there was nothing to drain there.
Now here is the problem. I pulled the black water valve, and black water did move. It filled up about a 6 inch section of about 3 inch pipe before I could quickly close the valve back up. Thank God the pipe cover was securely in place. But now I have about 6 cups of black water to deal with in that pipe. There are groans all around. So I grab a big black garbage bag. Wrap the entire pipe unit up in it, remove the pipe cover and allow the black water to flow into bag. I was keeping my rubber gloved fingers crossed as this was not a brand name garbage bag, but some bargain special. I grimaced as I heard and felt the black water flow. I carefully removed the bag, like my life depended on it, moved it aside and tied a big honkin knot in it. Remember the no pooping policy? Yeah, well someone didn't get the memo. So thankfully once again, I had gloves on. So I pull the hose over and firmly attach it to the correct stinky pipe. Then I pull the black water lever again. Now remember who is lying on the other side of the trailer, laying down holding the pipe in place? Another visual with audio for you. Poor beautiful Jessica, holding the pipe and gagging and heaving all the while. I tried not to breathe while I was under there too, but the sight and sound of Jessica and of Pete laughing hysterically brought me to shrieks of laughter too.
So then I pulled the grey water lever and all of my dish water flushed things through. It was at about this time that Pete yells over to Jessica. "Hey Jess, I don't think you need to hold that pipe, it goes down about 2 feet into the ground!" You want to see a 16 year old girl mad, make her hold a sewage pipe just for fun.
The entire camping experience has been wonderful despite these issues. The weather is beautiful, I read 8 books my first week (and yes I started out with the Shades of Grey trilogy), I have a bit of a tan and have relaxed completely. We have wonderful company. Only one other problem. My dear sweet husband is home working while we are here. A couple more days and he will join us. (Oh and my air conditioner still doesn't work)
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
I thought you were kidding.....
Well life has been extremely busy since my last post. Basketball and volleyball seasons have come to an end. I was a proud mom at the Athletic Awards banquet when Dom was awarded the MVP for junior boys volleyball and Jessica was voted most improved in senior girls basketball.
Soccer and baseball are under way, but they too are winding down. Tonight we had baseball at 5:30 and soccer at 7pm. After driving to and from I was able to sit and watch my daughter Nicki play some soccer. It was a beautiful evening and I didn't need my sleeping back to snuggle in to watch a game. Anyone who lives here with kids who play know what I am referring to. Soccer and baseball are typically played with blowing Arctic winds and you have to bundle up.
Anyway, Nicki had a breakaway and scored a fabulous goal. I was so happy I was paying attention and not gabbing when it happened. I saw the whole thing. At the end of the game she says, "Can we go to DQ?" Of course after her fabulous play and the fact that it was 26 C out, I said sure. I did not bring any treats for any of the 4 boys/men who were possibly at home. It was too hot and they would have been a mess by the time we got there is my rational reason for not doing so.
A small DQ blizzard is usually consumed in the 15 minute drive home. As we neared home I stuffed my empty blizzard cup into Nicki's and I said, "We'll hide the evidence in here." As we pulled into the driveway we grabbed our stuff (my jam packed purse that Jessica hates and everyone else thinks is cool and Nicki's soccer gear) and headed up the sidewalk.
Bob and Josh were sitting outside. Nicki headed in before me. As I hit the doorstep, Bob says "I was just thinking, I hope Cindy brings me a treat from DQ." At this point I thought, crap do I have ice cream on my face, or is this purely coincidental that he was thinking about DQ and we sort of secretly went there? I apologized for not bringing any home and headed into the house.
When I saw Nicki inside, I whispered, "You didn't tell your dad that we went to DQ did you?" She said, "No, but he saw the blizzard cups in my hand." Of course picture the look of disbelief on my face. :P
I looked at her and said, "I told you we needed to hide the evidence!!!!!"
And she said....
"I thought you were just kidding"
So then to explain to her, how next time my hubby goes to Tim Horton's for a coffee, it is unlikely that he will think to bring me an Ice Capp. :P
Soccer and baseball are under way, but they too are winding down. Tonight we had baseball at 5:30 and soccer at 7pm. After driving to and from I was able to sit and watch my daughter Nicki play some soccer. It was a beautiful evening and I didn't need my sleeping back to snuggle in to watch a game. Anyone who lives here with kids who play know what I am referring to. Soccer and baseball are typically played with blowing Arctic winds and you have to bundle up.
Anyway, Nicki had a breakaway and scored a fabulous goal. I was so happy I was paying attention and not gabbing when it happened. I saw the whole thing. At the end of the game she says, "Can we go to DQ?" Of course after her fabulous play and the fact that it was 26 C out, I said sure. I did not bring any treats for any of the 4 boys/men who were possibly at home. It was too hot and they would have been a mess by the time we got there is my rational reason for not doing so.
A small DQ blizzard is usually consumed in the 15 minute drive home. As we neared home I stuffed my empty blizzard cup into Nicki's and I said, "We'll hide the evidence in here." As we pulled into the driveway we grabbed our stuff (my jam packed purse that Jessica hates and everyone else thinks is cool and Nicki's soccer gear) and headed up the sidewalk.
Bob and Josh were sitting outside. Nicki headed in before me. As I hit the doorstep, Bob says "I was just thinking, I hope Cindy brings me a treat from DQ." At this point I thought, crap do I have ice cream on my face, or is this purely coincidental that he was thinking about DQ and we sort of secretly went there? I apologized for not bringing any home and headed into the house.
When I saw Nicki inside, I whispered, "You didn't tell your dad that we went to DQ did you?" She said, "No, but he saw the blizzard cups in my hand." Of course picture the look of disbelief on my face. :P
I looked at her and said, "I told you we needed to hide the evidence!!!!!"
And she said....
"I thought you were just kidding"
So then to explain to her, how next time my hubby goes to Tim Horton's for a coffee, it is unlikely that he will think to bring me an Ice Capp. :P
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Day 21 and counting
Over the last few years I have found that on particular mornings, the minute my feet hit the floor the sound of my children even breathing annoys me. On those mornings the very fact that a cupboard door is left hanging open, a light is on in an unoccupied room or the peanut butter was left out leaves me ranting and raging. Being out the door 3 minutes later than usuall will push me off the edge.
And then one rant-filled morning I had an epiphany. Maybe it isn't them. Maybe it is me. So I looked at my trusty calendar and realized that on that particular morning I was on day 21 of my blessed feminine cycle. I took note of that fact and in another 4 weeks recognized the same feeling. Holy crap. It's Day 21. So for the last couple of years I keep track of day 21 on my calendar and to be totally honest, having the awareness of the possibility of having that demonic hormone surge has actually helped me keep things under control. It also made me realize that Jessica has a day 25-28 approximately, where we would like to throttle her. Her days 25-28 put my little episodse to shame. So ladies, if you haven't figured out what your magic number is, I highly recommend doing so. It will make your family and friends, possibly co-workers much happier if you can keep the horriblemones in check.
That being said...... Here is what was going on in my house this morning. Jessica was heading out today on an overnight dog-sledding trip for school. Being her amazingly unorganized and scattered self, she left a trail of destruction and incompletion every where she went and on everything she touched this morning.
As I shut cupboard doors, turned off lights, picked up laundry off the stairs that she had moved there from the kitchen table and then stepped over as she went up to her room (yes my darling mother I do know that I did that as a teen for days at a time and yes Melany you did too :) ), I headed downstairs to take something out of the freezer for supper. Yes, all of the basement lights were on and nobody was home. As I walked into the pre-lit laundry room my eyes fell upon a scene which made my day 21 blood boil. Actually my blood would have boiled on any given day, but imagine the boost it got this morning being day 21.
I had put a load of wash in the machine last night. When I walked into the laundry room, someone (ahem aka Jessica) had opened the door, rifled through the wet laundry looking for something, pulled half of the clean wet laundry out and piled it in a heap in front of the machine. The door was open with clothes half in and half out. It reminded me of the halloween pumpkins that people carve and pull the seeds and guts out to make it look like it is throwing up. How is that for a visual?
I stomped over to the stairs and yelled up, "I am going to kill either Jessica or Nicole!!!!" Who made the mess in the laundry room???? With that Jessica came down and said, "it was me, I was going to fold that." Fold what??? Well we weren't referring to the same thing. In addition to the chaos that I was freaking out about, she had taken a bunch of dry stuff out of the dryer, threw it in a basket and put the basket of clean dry clothes amidst the baskets of dirty clothes. I said, "Not that!!!, that!!!!" and pointed to the wet mess of clean clothes. "Oh, yeah I did that too."
Needless to say I don't honestly believe I wouldn't have been any less aggravated on day 10 or 17. I spent the rest of the morning making sure she didn't leave anything laying around or turned on etc.
The other 4 kids were already waiting in the truck and Jessica was still sitting on the floor pulling on her boots. She said, "you can go wait in the truck." I advised that I would be more aggravated waiting in the truck wondering what is taking her so long, than I am actually watching what is taking her so long....
So we get in the truck, back out, proceed down the drive way almost get to the road and you hear Jessica gasp. "Now what?" "We have to go back" she says. "What did you forget now? " "My permission slip!" The one I signed a couple of days ago?" Well that was a stupid question now wasn't it?
Now we are about 7 minutes later than usual and I had some copying and stuff that I wanted to get done. I arrive at the school, go down to the school store to turn on the slushie machines, only to find that lemon lime and dripped all night and flooded the counter and the floor. Yup it's day 21 alright.
(I must say that I love my daughter Jessica dearly and she has a magical talent that I call White Tornado mode (my dad calls my mom the white tornado when she has cleaned the supper table and he is still eating LOL) and Jessica will tidy up the house leaving it spotless. I completely appreciate when she does this and I thank her for it. )
Well thank goodness tomorrow is day 22. What day is it for you?
And then one rant-filled morning I had an epiphany. Maybe it isn't them. Maybe it is me. So I looked at my trusty calendar and realized that on that particular morning I was on day 21 of my blessed feminine cycle. I took note of that fact and in another 4 weeks recognized the same feeling. Holy crap. It's Day 21. So for the last couple of years I keep track of day 21 on my calendar and to be totally honest, having the awareness of the possibility of having that demonic hormone surge has actually helped me keep things under control. It also made me realize that Jessica has a day 25-28 approximately, where we would like to throttle her. Her days 25-28 put my little episodse to shame. So ladies, if you haven't figured out what your magic number is, I highly recommend doing so. It will make your family and friends, possibly co-workers much happier if you can keep the horriblemones in check.
That being said...... Here is what was going on in my house this morning. Jessica was heading out today on an overnight dog-sledding trip for school. Being her amazingly unorganized and scattered self, she left a trail of destruction and incompletion every where she went and on everything she touched this morning.
As I shut cupboard doors, turned off lights, picked up laundry off the stairs that she had moved there from the kitchen table and then stepped over as she went up to her room (yes my darling mother I do know that I did that as a teen for days at a time and yes Melany you did too :) ), I headed downstairs to take something out of the freezer for supper. Yes, all of the basement lights were on and nobody was home. As I walked into the pre-lit laundry room my eyes fell upon a scene which made my day 21 blood boil. Actually my blood would have boiled on any given day, but imagine the boost it got this morning being day 21.
I had put a load of wash in the machine last night. When I walked into the laundry room, someone (ahem aka Jessica) had opened the door, rifled through the wet laundry looking for something, pulled half of the clean wet laundry out and piled it in a heap in front of the machine. The door was open with clothes half in and half out. It reminded me of the halloween pumpkins that people carve and pull the seeds and guts out to make it look like it is throwing up. How is that for a visual?
I stomped over to the stairs and yelled up, "I am going to kill either Jessica or Nicole!!!!" Who made the mess in the laundry room???? With that Jessica came down and said, "it was me, I was going to fold that." Fold what??? Well we weren't referring to the same thing. In addition to the chaos that I was freaking out about, she had taken a bunch of dry stuff out of the dryer, threw it in a basket and put the basket of clean dry clothes amidst the baskets of dirty clothes. I said, "Not that!!!, that!!!!" and pointed to the wet mess of clean clothes. "Oh, yeah I did that too."
Needless to say I don't honestly believe I wouldn't have been any less aggravated on day 10 or 17. I spent the rest of the morning making sure she didn't leave anything laying around or turned on etc.
The other 4 kids were already waiting in the truck and Jessica was still sitting on the floor pulling on her boots. She said, "you can go wait in the truck." I advised that I would be more aggravated waiting in the truck wondering what is taking her so long, than I am actually watching what is taking her so long....
So we get in the truck, back out, proceed down the drive way almost get to the road and you hear Jessica gasp. "Now what?" "We have to go back" she says. "What did you forget now? " "My permission slip!" The one I signed a couple of days ago?" Well that was a stupid question now wasn't it?
Now we are about 7 minutes later than usual and I had some copying and stuff that I wanted to get done. I arrive at the school, go down to the school store to turn on the slushie machines, only to find that lemon lime and dripped all night and flooded the counter and the floor. Yup it's day 21 alright.
(I must say that I love my daughter Jessica dearly and she has a magical talent that I call White Tornado mode (my dad calls my mom the white tornado when she has cleaned the supper table and he is still eating LOL) and Jessica will tidy up the house leaving it spotless. I completely appreciate when she does this and I thank her for it. )
Well thank goodness tomorrow is day 22. What day is it for you?
Friday, February 24, 2012
Compliments part 2
Being over 40 I tend to experience times where I have some extra heat radiating from my usually cold body. After work today I took 3/5 kids and got groceries and headed home to make supper. Bob came home just after 5pm and was feeling a bit chilly. He came up behind me as I was preparing supper and slipped his freezing cold hands under the back of my shirt and onto my warm back.
I cringed at how cold his hands were. Noah was standing nearby and I said to Bob, why don't you put your hands on Noah to warm up and Bob said..... Wait for it..... Wait for it......
" I can't, he's skinny."
I turned and looked at Bob and he said, "I know that didn't come out right." I told him there is no way to take back that one. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Then he tried to explain the reasoning between being a skinny kid and body heat and he bumbled over something to do with warmth and comfort. It just got better and better.
I cringed at how cold his hands were. Noah was standing nearby and I said to Bob, why don't you put your hands on Noah to warm up and Bob said..... Wait for it..... Wait for it......
" I can't, he's skinny."
I turned and looked at Bob and he said, "I know that didn't come out right." I told him there is no way to take back that one. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Then he tried to explain the reasoning between being a skinny kid and body heat and he bumbled over something to do with warmth and comfort. It just got better and better.
Distractions while Driving
I must say with 5 kids in sports and school and with social lives and the fact that we live in the country, I do a lot of driving. That being said there are plenty of distractions in the vehicle. Some distractions are loud and boisterous outbursts, while others are of the silent but deadly variety.
Last night we were driving home and someone claimed they smelled something. Denial filled the air along with an unfavourable aroma. I said, maybe it is the mill.
Then when we were just about home the smell hit again. We were 13km from the mill at this point and all fingers pointed toward Noah. He "took credit" for what he had done and blamed it on the fact that he had McDonald's for supper and that he hadn't had that in a long time, so his body wasn't used to it. Dom indicated that McDonald's does not seem to disagree with his gastronomical system, but he goes there once a week with Nanny for lunch.
To use a word that Zach created, the smell of Noah's little bomb effumulated within the cabin of the vehicle. Everyone expressed their disgust and Dom added that if he "lit a match in here we would all blow up."
I don't need to be pulled over and ticketed for using a cell phone when I drive to distract me. I just need to be driving with the bunch of yahoos I chauffeur around on a daily basis. :)
And yes, this is my life.
Last night we were driving home and someone claimed they smelled something. Denial filled the air along with an unfavourable aroma. I said, maybe it is the mill.
Then when we were just about home the smell hit again. We were 13km from the mill at this point and all fingers pointed toward Noah. He "took credit" for what he had done and blamed it on the fact that he had McDonald's for supper and that he hadn't had that in a long time, so his body wasn't used to it. Dom indicated that McDonald's does not seem to disagree with his gastronomical system, but he goes there once a week with Nanny for lunch.
To use a word that Zach created, the smell of Noah's little bomb effumulated within the cabin of the vehicle. Everyone expressed their disgust and Dom added that if he "lit a match in here we would all blow up."
I don't need to be pulled over and ticketed for using a cell phone when I drive to distract me. I just need to be driving with the bunch of yahoos I chauffeur around on a daily basis. :)
And yes, this is my life.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
That's what he said. No really.
After a productive day at work, I picked up the only child who was at school today. We went and got groceries. I arrived home to find I had 2 extra boys at our house and Nicki had a friend coming over. The boys as it turned out weren't staying for supper. So I enlisted the help of children to make supper as I had to get Noah to Dynasty volleyball (he has literally been asking every day since last year, "when is Dynasty mom.") We made homemade meatballs stuffed with cheese. Many hands make light work. I continued making the rest of dinner myself.
The drainage system in the laundry room appeared to be having issues and the cleaning lady was unable to do laundry because water was not going down the drain, from the washer but back up and onto the laundry room floor.
Bob came home after a busy day at work. He came out of the bathroom after powdering his nose and said, "Whose ass is bigger yours or mine?" It took a second for me to pick my jaw up off the floor and a minute to quite laughing. He couldn't understand how I found that question funny, or the fact that it was a husband daring to ask his wife. He was just curious. I assured him that I thought mine was bigger. He asked what size pants I wear and I told him they are measured by the waist not the ass. So my waist is smaller because I am an hour glass shape. He said, "Well what am I?" So I told him he is an inverted pear. Wide at the shoulders, narrowing down to his hips.
So I was just curious. Has any man ever asked you that?
The drainage system in the laundry room appeared to be having issues and the cleaning lady was unable to do laundry because water was not going down the drain, from the washer but back up and onto the laundry room floor.
Bob came home after a busy day at work. He came out of the bathroom after powdering his nose and said, "Whose ass is bigger yours or mine?" It took a second for me to pick my jaw up off the floor and a minute to quite laughing. He couldn't understand how I found that question funny, or the fact that it was a husband daring to ask his wife. He was just curious. I assured him that I thought mine was bigger. He asked what size pants I wear and I told him they are measured by the waist not the ass. So my waist is smaller because I am an hour glass shape. He said, "Well what am I?" So I told him he is an inverted pear. Wide at the shoulders, narrowing down to his hips.
So I was just curious. Has any man ever asked you that?
Monday, January 23, 2012
On compliments, self esteem and English as a second language.
I must preface this entry by telling you that I love my husband. Just tonight as we were sitting together on the couch he told me how good I looked. He is thoughtful, affectionate, cooks dinner for me and compliments me often among other things.
That being said, I have to say that occasionally the fact that English is his second language makes for some amusing backwards compliments,which I have had to explain to him aren't really compliments.
Let us start with our first trip to Vegas. We were contemplating checking out the pool at our hotel. It was a bit of a trek to the pool from our room and eventhough I did see a few people walking through this enormous hotel (the MGM Grand) in their swimsuits, I was a little apprehensive about doing same. When I mentioned to Bob that I didn't know if I should wear my swimsuit down to the pool, he lovingly paid me what he thought was a compliment and said, "Go ahead, I've seen worse." I am laughing out loud as I type this. He was trying to tell me I looked good and go for it,but that's not exactly how it came out. He has yet to live that one down.
On another cozy evening when we were sitting on the couch, I lazily had my legs draped across his lap. When you read the word "draped"you should envision lean, long, tanned (shaved) legs. (Insert LOL here). He gently placed his hand on the exposed skin between the top of my rainbow striped ankle socks and my pants. He stared lovingly into my eyes and said "Do all the women in your family have thick ankles?" I tried to explain to him that in no way shape or form could that comment be interpreted as any sort of compliment. Again, I am laughing out loud as I type. To my dear cousins and aunties, I assured him, no I am the only one.
Now being in my early (ahem) 40s, I spend a bit more time in front of the mirror, you know "suffering" as my mother taught me. (See previous blog entry). Each morning I get up at about 5:50am and I spend about an hour or so getting ready. That is the time I give to myself each day. The rest of the day, my time is given to others. I will not give up this "me time" and I think Dr. Phil would commend me for this. He would probably tell me I should be taking more me time (right Sherry?), but he doesn't live in my shoes or my house. So here is how the next compliment goes....
She gazed into the mirror. Her shoulder length hair was meticulously straightened and glistened in the light from the lightbulb that sticks out of the wall in her bathroom. She swung her hair from side to side and was happy with how it fell. Her mascara-covered eyelashes were water-proofed and had no clumps. No spider eyes will ever be criticized on these baby-browns. No line of makeup along her jawline from her carefully applied foundation and her lipgloss glistened on her lips. She pulled open her underwear drawer and pulled out a pretty bra and panty set she bought at La Senza. She gave up on the thongs. They literally had become a pain in the ass. Those buggers had a mind of their own and kept trying to head north. So a nice pair of matching bikini panties was the choice. She slipped out of her second hand bathrobe and into her pretty undies. She heads into the walk in closet to decide what garments might best hide her 40 something lumps and bumps. As she is standing there she hears her husband come into the room. She adjusts her bra, pulls the bikini bottom out of the crack of her butt and sucks in her stomach trying to look 30 something. As her husband walks in he does a double take. He says in an astonished voice, "What's wrong with your leg????!!!!????" She looks down at her left leg and then her right and says, "What? What's wrong with my leg?" Still in an astonished voice he says, "That hole!!! What's that hole in your leg???" As she gazes down she catches sight of what has got him all stewed up. "Honey, that's fat. It's called cellulite." Insert more laughs here. And 4 years later, he has yet to live that down.
Yes, the "she" is me. I have been blessed with "holes" in my legs since I was young. Oh well. As previously mentioned, I repeatedly teach my boys, not to use the words moustache or fat in a sentence when you are talking to a girl. So Bob technically didn't break any of those rules, bless his heart. I laugh every time I repeat these words that fell from his poor francophone lips.
Ladies love your bodies. The years will not be kind. Gravity will do its thing. You've earned any wrinkles you have, hopefully by smiling instead of frowning. Don't take yourself too seriously. You are beautiful inside and out. Tell your daughters how beautiful they are and tell your sons how handsome they are too. Tell your husband he is sexy. It's always nice when others give our sagging self esteem a little boost. Tell your friends that you like their new hair cut or colour. That the outfit they are wearing looks excellent. I even pay compliments to strangers.
Today's compliment was as it should have been. Out of the blue and in the middle of a random conversation. It was sincere and I thanked him for it. Oh, did I forget to mention, he told me my boobs looked good too. ;)
That being said, I have to say that occasionally the fact that English is his second language makes for some amusing backwards compliments,which I have had to explain to him aren't really compliments.
Let us start with our first trip to Vegas. We were contemplating checking out the pool at our hotel. It was a bit of a trek to the pool from our room and eventhough I did see a few people walking through this enormous hotel (the MGM Grand) in their swimsuits, I was a little apprehensive about doing same. When I mentioned to Bob that I didn't know if I should wear my swimsuit down to the pool, he lovingly paid me what he thought was a compliment and said, "Go ahead, I've seen worse." I am laughing out loud as I type this. He was trying to tell me I looked good and go for it,but that's not exactly how it came out. He has yet to live that one down.
On another cozy evening when we were sitting on the couch, I lazily had my legs draped across his lap. When you read the word "draped"you should envision lean, long, tanned (shaved) legs. (Insert LOL here). He gently placed his hand on the exposed skin between the top of my rainbow striped ankle socks and my pants. He stared lovingly into my eyes and said "Do all the women in your family have thick ankles?" I tried to explain to him that in no way shape or form could that comment be interpreted as any sort of compliment. Again, I am laughing out loud as I type. To my dear cousins and aunties, I assured him, no I am the only one.
Now being in my early (ahem) 40s, I spend a bit more time in front of the mirror, you know "suffering" as my mother taught me. (See previous blog entry). Each morning I get up at about 5:50am and I spend about an hour or so getting ready. That is the time I give to myself each day. The rest of the day, my time is given to others. I will not give up this "me time" and I think Dr. Phil would commend me for this. He would probably tell me I should be taking more me time (right Sherry?), but he doesn't live in my shoes or my house. So here is how the next compliment goes....
She gazed into the mirror. Her shoulder length hair was meticulously straightened and glistened in the light from the lightbulb that sticks out of the wall in her bathroom. She swung her hair from side to side and was happy with how it fell. Her mascara-covered eyelashes were water-proofed and had no clumps. No spider eyes will ever be criticized on these baby-browns. No line of makeup along her jawline from her carefully applied foundation and her lipgloss glistened on her lips. She pulled open her underwear drawer and pulled out a pretty bra and panty set she bought at La Senza. She gave up on the thongs. They literally had become a pain in the ass. Those buggers had a mind of their own and kept trying to head north. So a nice pair of matching bikini panties was the choice. She slipped out of her second hand bathrobe and into her pretty undies. She heads into the walk in closet to decide what garments might best hide her 40 something lumps and bumps. As she is standing there she hears her husband come into the room. She adjusts her bra, pulls the bikini bottom out of the crack of her butt and sucks in her stomach trying to look 30 something. As her husband walks in he does a double take. He says in an astonished voice, "What's wrong with your leg????!!!!????" She looks down at her left leg and then her right and says, "What? What's wrong with my leg?" Still in an astonished voice he says, "That hole!!! What's that hole in your leg???" As she gazes down she catches sight of what has got him all stewed up. "Honey, that's fat. It's called cellulite." Insert more laughs here. And 4 years later, he has yet to live that down.
Yes, the "she" is me. I have been blessed with "holes" in my legs since I was young. Oh well. As previously mentioned, I repeatedly teach my boys, not to use the words moustache or fat in a sentence when you are talking to a girl. So Bob technically didn't break any of those rules, bless his heart. I laugh every time I repeat these words that fell from his poor francophone lips.
Ladies love your bodies. The years will not be kind. Gravity will do its thing. You've earned any wrinkles you have, hopefully by smiling instead of frowning. Don't take yourself too seriously. You are beautiful inside and out. Tell your daughters how beautiful they are and tell your sons how handsome they are too. Tell your husband he is sexy. It's always nice when others give our sagging self esteem a little boost. Tell your friends that you like their new hair cut or colour. That the outfit they are wearing looks excellent. I even pay compliments to strangers.
Today's compliment was as it should have been. Out of the blue and in the middle of a random conversation. It was sincere and I thanked him for it. Oh, did I forget to mention, he told me my boobs looked good too. ;)
Sunday, January 22, 2012
On Vanity
Every day I looked in the mirror this week, I was repeatedly confronted by the flashes of silver highlights peeking out at my roots. Those little silver buggers did not get the memo. They are not welcome on my head. I pay to have them replaced by brown ones, red ones and blond ones. My daughters received an illuminated, magnifying mirror for Christmas and I made the BIG mistake of peering into it. I do not recommend doing this because at this point I was also confronted by little dark hairs above my upper lip. My regular mirror is much more kind and does not enthusiastically show them to me. These ones above my lip are slow learners. They don't understand that dark hair is only welcome on my head. I have regularly plastered my upper lip with a fluffy white bleach concoction to lighten them up, but they still persist.
So after I dragged my butt out of bed this morning, I cracked open two boxes that stock my vanity. One magical little box will tame those nasty silver highlights. The other will lighten the dark ones above my lip. And I am quite a sight to see when I apply both at the same time. The first time I came downstairs with my hair in disarray with brown, wet roots and an upper lip that looked like I slipped when I was brushing my teeth, Bob literally gasped.
If I thought that silver hair and a dark moustache was attractive, life would be a lot simpler, however, I don't. I also don't like the extra hairs that thicken up my eyebrows or the one lone "horse hair" that grows to the right of my chin.
Growing up I always remember my mom telling me you have to "suffer" to look beautiful. This comes from one of the most naturally beautiful women you will ever meet. Suffering is an exaggeration. It's just more of an inconvenience to have to do some fine-tuning occassionally. Fine-tuning involves bleaching, plucking and dying and basically it all involves hair.
My mom's mom must have told her the same thing, because my beautiful little Portuguese vavo dyed her hair until the day she died. I don't know if this was at her daughters' insistence or her own, but I am betting it was her own. We always joke how every time she would look through a pile of pictures, she would always stop at any of herself, gaze admiringly and comment on how good she looked in the picture. I say this with much affection. Her hair never betrayed her age.
Now I have daughters of my own and as I hear my mother's voice coming from my mouth on occasion, I have encouraged them to fine-tune occasionally. To them that means brushing their hair, teeth and shaving their armpits. Being the athletes that they are, they are quite comfortable jumping out of the shower, throwing their wet hair into the dreaded Wilma Flintstone bun (drives us crazy), throwing on a pair of sweatpants (with the waistband rolled down) and a hoody. I envy how comfortable they are with their natural beauty. I do tell them regularly how naturally beautiful they are and to love their bodies. I try not to tell them what the years and having kids can do to your body. That would be cruel. There have been some mother-daughter lip bleaching sessions and eyebrow training, but when it comes to vanity, that ship has appeared to have sailed right now. And that is fine with me. (Gotta go rinse my hair now.)
So after I dragged my butt out of bed this morning, I cracked open two boxes that stock my vanity. One magical little box will tame those nasty silver highlights. The other will lighten the dark ones above my lip. And I am quite a sight to see when I apply both at the same time. The first time I came downstairs with my hair in disarray with brown, wet roots and an upper lip that looked like I slipped when I was brushing my teeth, Bob literally gasped.
If I thought that silver hair and a dark moustache was attractive, life would be a lot simpler, however, I don't. I also don't like the extra hairs that thicken up my eyebrows or the one lone "horse hair" that grows to the right of my chin.
Growing up I always remember my mom telling me you have to "suffer" to look beautiful. This comes from one of the most naturally beautiful women you will ever meet. Suffering is an exaggeration. It's just more of an inconvenience to have to do some fine-tuning occassionally. Fine-tuning involves bleaching, plucking and dying and basically it all involves hair.
My mom's mom must have told her the same thing, because my beautiful little Portuguese vavo dyed her hair until the day she died. I don't know if this was at her daughters' insistence or her own, but I am betting it was her own. We always joke how every time she would look through a pile of pictures, she would always stop at any of herself, gaze admiringly and comment on how good she looked in the picture. I say this with much affection. Her hair never betrayed her age.
Now I have daughters of my own and as I hear my mother's voice coming from my mouth on occasion, I have encouraged them to fine-tune occasionally. To them that means brushing their hair, teeth and shaving their armpits. Being the athletes that they are, they are quite comfortable jumping out of the shower, throwing their wet hair into the dreaded Wilma Flintstone bun (drives us crazy), throwing on a pair of sweatpants (with the waistband rolled down) and a hoody. I envy how comfortable they are with their natural beauty. I do tell them regularly how naturally beautiful they are and to love their bodies. I try not to tell them what the years and having kids can do to your body. That would be cruel. There have been some mother-daughter lip bleaching sessions and eyebrow training, but when it comes to vanity, that ship has appeared to have sailed right now. And that is fine with me. (Gotta go rinse my hair now.)
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Men remembering birthdays
This morning Jessica said, "dad doesn't know when my birthday is." This seemed to bother her and I assured her not to take it personally, but it is something men don't seem to worry about too much. (I am stereotyping here largely from my own experience.) It is also like how no men in our house can find anything in our fridge or a cupboard even if it falls out on their foot.
The whole remembering birthdays discussion reminded me of one of my birthdays years ago when my husband Nick remembered one of mine. He worked shift work at the mill, 6am-6pmish. One one particular birthday he arrived home from work, with roses in hand, and a beautiful card that contained gift certificates for a manicure and pedicure. I was blown away. Not totally that he remembered my birthday without too much reminding, but that he somehow found the time to get me such a nice gift.
A couple of weeks later we had to trade vehicles and I hopped into his truck. In my peripheral vision (note I worked in an eye doctor's office for 13 yrs) I saw a little white piece of paper that had some familiar writing on it. As I shift my gaze I took a better look at the paper.
Here is what it said: roses $, card $, gift certificates $. Written in MY SISTER'S VERY NEAT AND UNMISTAKEABLE HANDWRITTEN FONT, PRICELESS. So I called my beloved sister and she came clean. Don't recall how it all panned out, albeit it must have taken some coordination for the gift hand off, but I thanked her for getting it for me.
And here is the funnier part. Nick never paid any bills. I ran that part of the household. So I asked her if he had paid her yet. She said no. So a couple of days later I paid my sister for my birthday gift. I never said a word to Nick until what might have been months later.
It would turn out to be one of the gifts I would never ever forget. Bless his soul. :)
The whole remembering birthdays discussion reminded me of one of my birthdays years ago when my husband Nick remembered one of mine. He worked shift work at the mill, 6am-6pmish. One one particular birthday he arrived home from work, with roses in hand, and a beautiful card that contained gift certificates for a manicure and pedicure. I was blown away. Not totally that he remembered my birthday without too much reminding, but that he somehow found the time to get me such a nice gift.
A couple of weeks later we had to trade vehicles and I hopped into his truck. In my peripheral vision (note I worked in an eye doctor's office for 13 yrs) I saw a little white piece of paper that had some familiar writing on it. As I shift my gaze I took a better look at the paper.
Here is what it said: roses $, card $, gift certificates $. Written in MY SISTER'S VERY NEAT AND UNMISTAKEABLE HANDWRITTEN FONT, PRICELESS. So I called my beloved sister and she came clean. Don't recall how it all panned out, albeit it must have taken some coordination for the gift hand off, but I thanked her for getting it for me.
And here is the funnier part. Nick never paid any bills. I ran that part of the household. So I asked her if he had paid her yet. She said no. So a couple of days later I paid my sister for my birthday gift. I never said a word to Nick until what might have been months later.
It would turn out to be one of the gifts I would never ever forget. Bless his soul. :)
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Another day another dollar
Well the week ended with Friday the 13th. There was no ominous loomings during my day, although the night before I was working on my on-line computer course. I had posted what I felt was an excellent reflection on business and teaching. It took me about 20-25mins to compose it. It wasn't an assignment, just something you type up in a textbox and then post. I proofed it a couple of times and then hit the Post button to submit my amazing composition. And then...... my &())&%* rural internet kicked out. That or my router. I did swear out loud a couple of times. Because I am eternally optimistic I thought maybe it sent in the microseconds that lapsed before it kicked out. No such luck. So there I was at 11pm, wayyy after my bedtime, trying to re-write what I had done.
I do pride myself in not being a slow learner, so my second effort was done on word. I figured I would save it, and then cut and paste. Well the cut and paste isn't working for some reason, so I had to attach it. Cut and paste works at school, so I will have to see what the setting problem is on my laptop.
Friday saw the girls heading to Kenora for a volleyball tournament and Dominic heading to Thunder Bay for a basketball tournament. Josh had a wrestling tournament here, so that left Noah here with us.
And on a very happy note, my niece and her husband brought the first great grandchild into the world for Nick's mom. A beautiful baby girl. How could she be anything else. Look at the gene pool she comes from. No name or weight as I post this. Hope to find that out today. Dominic might have the opportunity between games for my brother-in-law to pick him up to go for a quick visit.
And away I go, heading into town to go watch some more intense wrestling.
I do pride myself in not being a slow learner, so my second effort was done on word. I figured I would save it, and then cut and paste. Well the cut and paste isn't working for some reason, so I had to attach it. Cut and paste works at school, so I will have to see what the setting problem is on my laptop.
Friday saw the girls heading to Kenora for a volleyball tournament and Dominic heading to Thunder Bay for a basketball tournament. Josh had a wrestling tournament here, so that left Noah here with us.
And on a very happy note, my niece and her husband brought the first great grandchild into the world for Nick's mom. A beautiful baby girl. How could she be anything else. Look at the gene pool she comes from. No name or weight as I post this. Hope to find that out today. Dominic might have the opportunity between games for my brother-in-law to pick him up to go for a quick visit.
And away I go, heading into town to go watch some more intense wrestling.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
So as we sat at the supper table last night, I realized until I had previously posted on here, that the Leon's towel was still in the garbage can. The bathroom garbage can doesn't see a lot of action compared to the kitchen one. So as I mentioned this, Jessica says, "I put the can in the hall because I couldn't stand the thought of it looking at my while I was in the bathroom." I said that I was just going to throw it out. I'm not going to deal with that mess ever. Then Bob pipes up and says, "Well we could put the towel in a box and ship it to Leon and say Hey you forgot something!" I must say I laughed out loud. The visual for that event would be priceless.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Adventures of our family in 2011
I thought I would start a blog a long time ago, and have had many crazy events come and go at our house, and failed to write them down. I share them with friends regularly and they chuckle and shake their heads in amusement at how our house is a little wacky at times. So as I am procrastinating I thought I would make a post.
Being that we have kids in our household, it is rare that I get to go anywhere on my own. I am usually running around taking kids to some sporting event or practice, or to a friend's house. When I do get out my cellphone never fails to ring with a child wanting me for something. So it has become a running joke withme and a couple of girlfriends who know my life well.
One evening this spring, I actually made a date to go out for dinner with these 2 particular girls. I left the kids with these words, "If the house is on fire do not call me. Call 911." (I still had to drop a child off at a friend's house on this trip to town. After an uninterrupted dinner we went over to Sharon's house for dessert. I had been gone just under 2 hours total, when my cell phone rang. The three of us looked at each other in amusement and I unwillingly answered the phone. It was my dear husband Bob. It is now 8:30pm on a Saturday evening. He sheepishly says, "Hi. Uhm when you come home could you stop somewhere and get the biggest bandaids you can find?" Of course I need to know what the heck has happened now. "What happened?!?" Sharon and Linda's eyes are glued to me in interest at this point. "Well Josh cut his leg." "Do you need these bandaids right away?" (remember 8:30 Saturday night, most stores that are open will be closing very shortly and my evening out would come to a grinding halt.) Bob says, "No it's okay right now, I've got him stitched up." Bob is trained to do such things, let me say. As I am asking him what happened, Sharon's daughter brings over her laptop and she is talking to our son Zack on facebook. He is posting pictures of the event as it unfolded. So Josh is seriously afraid of getting attacked by a wolf when he goes outside at night. We've never had one threaten us near our house or anything, but this is his fear. He is a big strapping boy and an avid hunter. So, while he and his dad were outside in the shop, Bob was on the phone and Josh takes hold of a big and I mean big knife that they were using for butchering deer. He is swinging the knife around like a sword basically, enacting what he would do if a wolf came in and attacked him. In the midst of the swinging, he stabbed himself in the thigh. About an inch deep and inch and a half long gash. He got his dad's attention with his bloody leg and told him what he did. So they cleared off the kitchen table and Josh laid down on it where his dad proceeded to stitch him up with his stitching kit. So as Bob is recounting this craziness to me over the phone, the three of us are looking at the live feed coming through facebook of the wound and its repair. Amid peals of laughter Sharon grabs a flower she had in a vase and hands it to me and says, "You win."
Christmas had its ups and downs this year. We had an extra child join us for a week over the holidays. Josh's friend Leon came for a visit from southern Ontario. Leon (name changed) visited us for an energy packed week last March break. This week was no different.
As previously there was a lot of yelling on a constant basis, not in anger, but in a comedic tone filled with swearing to make it more entertaining. On the second or third morning of Leon's visit he came out of his room with about a good 2 inch scrape on his cheek. I was rather shocked when I saw it as I would like to send him back to his family in one piece. He and Josh were fooling around basically and he hit the foot of the couch with his face. He informed me that the swelling from his eye and lip had gone down from the night before. As I usually do in my role as a mother, I admonished them and said not to play so rough. He could have lost some teeth (or an eye). Another late evening I had to go downstairs because I heard mention of trying to do a blue angel. For those of you unfamiliar with this term, it is basically lighting the gas from your farts on fire. Before I could get down there, I hear whoops and peels of laughter. Josh had succeeded. Thankfully there were no third degree burns, and the house did not go up in flames, but as usual I admonished them for being stupid (pardon the use of the S word) and not to do it again. I was not going to take his singed butt to the emergency room in the middle of the night and have to explain why we were there.
On the last couple of days of Leon's visit he ended up with a stomach flu bug. It hit him at both ends unfortunately. During one of his visits to the bathroom, he was seated (to put it nicely) and then realized he had to throw up. Instead of using the garbage can that is right beside our royal throne, he grabs a bath towel and throws up in it. Afterwards, he rolled up the destroyed towel and put it in the garbage can. I was unaware he had done this until later in the day when Bob found it and told me. Needless to say, I left the towel in the garbage. Leon didn't tell anyone he had done this. He did tell us however, that he had never thrown up before. That would explain one or two things, but not why he didn't mention the destroyed towel.
I spent the week picking up after Leon. Phone, camera, ipod, clothes etc. Did some of his laundry during the course of the week. The day before he was leaving I asked him in the afternoon, to bring me any laundry he had and I would do it, so he could pack everything clean. He said, "No it's okay. I'll just get my mom to do it when I get home." I confirmed that he was sure, and that it was no problem as I always had a load of laundry on the go. No, it was okay.
At 10:20pm, way past my usual bedtime I might add, Leon comes to me and says, "I brought all of my laundry down." Bob and I looked at him, and I said "What laundry, and where were you bringing it?" He replies "My dirty laundry, I brought it downstairs to wash." Bob and I sat in disbelief as we do often with a house full of teens. I said "Leon, I asked you this afternoon to give me laundry! We aren't doing it now!" He said, "Well I can stay up and do it." I told him no and that he had missed the boat and we will just pack his stuff as is. I sat shaking my head as I often do. My youngest Noah mentioned that the dryer vent/hose had come off the back of the dryer. I filed this in my memory bank for tomorrow and headed to bed. Tomorrow was a busy day. Bob goes to work. Takes 2 kids with him to babysit for my sister. One goes to volleyball practice in the middle of the babysitting. The five kids and myself have dental appointments at 1pm. Leon wants to go to a store which is only open until noon and we have to be to the airport by 3:30. We live about 25 minutes from the airport. My nicely organized schedule to get everyone where they needed to be was set in my brain. I am 99% of the time always on time or early. I am OCD about punctuality. It disturbs me to be late for anything.
After showering and making sure everyone was up I ask Leon if he would like help packing. He had been concerned that he would be unable to pack the things he came with back where his mother had put them. He and Josh were starting to look at taking some of our luggage with him, but I said no. Unless his mother was a rocket scientist and it was a requirement in this case, I am sure we could pack his bag. It is at this point that he informs me that he still has some laundry in the dryer. I remember he had a couple of things in the last load I had done yesterday and I went down to retrieve them.
When I walked in the laundry room, it was like a steam bath in there. Then I remembered Noah telling me the dryer pipe was off. The dryer was running at this point. So I shut off the dryer, turned on the exhaust fan, pulled out the washer and dryer and reconnected things and put them back. I was an annoyed sweating mess at this point. Also keep in mind I am pre-menopausal and the hotflashes come on their own. I don't need any help. The kids (no names mentioned) had pulled out the dryer looking for pingpong balls. Another factor to annoy me.
I start wondering why the dryer is going. I open it up, and the load of clothes inside is very damp. I think to myself, the stuff I put in yesterday should be dry by now. Then I open the dryer again and as an intact, wrapped Livesavers mint candy falls out, I realize this is not the load I had put in, but a full load of all of Leon's clothes. As I start sifting through it, I see clothes that I know he has not worn this week and some of Josh's clothes. It is now 11:15am. I need to have this kid packed and get everyone ready to head to town. I go upstairs madder than a wet hen. (Jessica affectionately calls me Mother Hen). In my rant at 2 teenage boys I explained I need to get to town and now we have wet clothes in the dryer (which I ranted some more, should not be there as he had been told the night before!) I also added that I could tell he picked up every thing that had been on Josh's floor and basically threw it all in the dryer dirty or not. He acknowledged my motherly laundry knowledge. He said he could take the wet clothes in a bag home. I said no, that they would stink by the time he got there, and his mother would just have to wash them all over again. Time is a valuable commodity to me and there is no way I will waste mine or anyone else's unnecessarily. So at 12:15 the clothes were dry. As I opened the dryer door, 2 more luckily still wrapped candies fell out onto the floor. I threw everything into a laundry basket with the rest of his belongings and told him he could pack it all at my sister's. We were hitting the road.
The dentist visit saw 4 out of 5 children with cavities much to their dismay. We left with new toothbrushes in hand and appointments for 4 months later for filings. When we got back to my sister's, Leon was all packed. See it wasn't rocket science after all. He had a true sense of accomplishment. We get Leon to the airport and the plane even left 10 minutes early.
We ate dinner in town, which we rarely do and got home around 7:15. Two messages from Leon's mom were flashing on the answering machine. I called her back to let her know that he got on the plane and was on his way. During our conversation she told me that he was ADHD and that he had gone off the meds he had been taking THE WEEK BEFORE HE CAME TO SEE US!!! I sat in a bit of a bewildered state listening to her as Bob wondered what the heck she was telling me. It sure would have been nice to know this before hand. The yelling, wrestling, flu, laundry fiasco etc would all have been dealt with in a different manner. Possibly a more calmish manner.
Two days later I am throwing yet another load of laundry in. As I am sorting through one of the full baskets, I notice that the socks look clean and washed. I do the smell test. Yep, these are clean. As I dig through this basket I realize ALL OF IT IS CLEAN! Then the little light bulb goes off over my head. This is the load of laundry that Leon had taken out and threw in a basket amidst the dirty ones, so he could do his FORBIDDEN LOAD!!! At that point I wanted to strangle kid all over again. I pulled out the wrinkled shirts that I was not going to iron, and threw them back in for another tumble in the wash.
And that was the first half of my Christmas vacation. The rest was spent basically sleeping in until 9am, doing laundry, tidying on a daily basis, doing some school work and relaxing. No complaints there.
New Year's eve was spent at home with Sharon and her family, and Karen and Bill (all friends' names are changed :) We ate and played cards. Very enjoyable evening. I actually stayed up until midnight.
On another day as I drove home with my daughter Jessica, she was recalling a discussion about driving and hitting deer. We basically had said that if you swerve to miss a deer on the road, and wreck your vehicle, your insurance will say it is your fault. You can't prove the accident was due to a deer, because it got away. So basically speaking, you are better off to hit the deer with respect to insurance coverage, not obviously health or safety-wise. So this topic was rumbling around in her brain as we were driving. She turns to me and says, "You know how you were talking about how it is better to hit the deer for insurance?" Of course I replied, "Yes." She asked ever so innocently, "So does that apply to humans too?" These children catch me at a loss for words often. I did quickly tell her, that no you should swerve to miss humans regardless.
At dinner on another evening, we were commenting that the new year was going to be 2012. My husband says, "Isn't that when the world is going to end?" Daughter Nicole ponders this and asks her sister, "If there is no food left would you eat me? " She starts looking at her legs and says, "My legs are pretty strong, good for eating." Jessica says, " Your tongue is the strongest muscle in your body." So of course Nicki starts feeling her tongue. Keep in mind while this is going on, we are a hunting family. We eat what we hunt. The children know that we don't hunt or eat carnivores like wolves, foxes or coyotes. We eat omnivores and herbivores. You know the meat and veggie eaters. So once again the little light bulb goes off over Jessica's head. She promptly says, "So does that mean we will only eat the vegetarians?" Bob and I burst out laughing. "Yes Jessica, we will only eat vegetarians if the world runs out of food." The girls' phys-ed teacher does not eat meat, so I advised them, they could eat her first.
Well this is enough of my ramblings for today.
Being that we have kids in our household, it is rare that I get to go anywhere on my own. I am usually running around taking kids to some sporting event or practice, or to a friend's house. When I do get out my cellphone never fails to ring with a child wanting me for something. So it has become a running joke withme and a couple of girlfriends who know my life well.
One evening this spring, I actually made a date to go out for dinner with these 2 particular girls. I left the kids with these words, "If the house is on fire do not call me. Call 911." (I still had to drop a child off at a friend's house on this trip to town. After an uninterrupted dinner we went over to Sharon's house for dessert. I had been gone just under 2 hours total, when my cell phone rang. The three of us looked at each other in amusement and I unwillingly answered the phone. It was my dear husband Bob. It is now 8:30pm on a Saturday evening. He sheepishly says, "Hi. Uhm when you come home could you stop somewhere and get the biggest bandaids you can find?" Of course I need to know what the heck has happened now. "What happened?!?" Sharon and Linda's eyes are glued to me in interest at this point. "Well Josh cut his leg." "Do you need these bandaids right away?" (remember 8:30 Saturday night, most stores that are open will be closing very shortly and my evening out would come to a grinding halt.) Bob says, "No it's okay right now, I've got him stitched up." Bob is trained to do such things, let me say. As I am asking him what happened, Sharon's daughter brings over her laptop and she is talking to our son Zack on facebook. He is posting pictures of the event as it unfolded. So Josh is seriously afraid of getting attacked by a wolf when he goes outside at night. We've never had one threaten us near our house or anything, but this is his fear. He is a big strapping boy and an avid hunter. So, while he and his dad were outside in the shop, Bob was on the phone and Josh takes hold of a big and I mean big knife that they were using for butchering deer. He is swinging the knife around like a sword basically, enacting what he would do if a wolf came in and attacked him. In the midst of the swinging, he stabbed himself in the thigh. About an inch deep and inch and a half long gash. He got his dad's attention with his bloody leg and told him what he did. So they cleared off the kitchen table and Josh laid down on it where his dad proceeded to stitch him up with his stitching kit. So as Bob is recounting this craziness to me over the phone, the three of us are looking at the live feed coming through facebook of the wound and its repair. Amid peals of laughter Sharon grabs a flower she had in a vase and hands it to me and says, "You win."
Christmas had its ups and downs this year. We had an extra child join us for a week over the holidays. Josh's friend Leon came for a visit from southern Ontario. Leon (name changed) visited us for an energy packed week last March break. This week was no different.
As previously there was a lot of yelling on a constant basis, not in anger, but in a comedic tone filled with swearing to make it more entertaining. On the second or third morning of Leon's visit he came out of his room with about a good 2 inch scrape on his cheek. I was rather shocked when I saw it as I would like to send him back to his family in one piece. He and Josh were fooling around basically and he hit the foot of the couch with his face. He informed me that the swelling from his eye and lip had gone down from the night before. As I usually do in my role as a mother, I admonished them and said not to play so rough. He could have lost some teeth (or an eye). Another late evening I had to go downstairs because I heard mention of trying to do a blue angel. For those of you unfamiliar with this term, it is basically lighting the gas from your farts on fire. Before I could get down there, I hear whoops and peels of laughter. Josh had succeeded. Thankfully there were no third degree burns, and the house did not go up in flames, but as usual I admonished them for being stupid (pardon the use of the S word) and not to do it again. I was not going to take his singed butt to the emergency room in the middle of the night and have to explain why we were there.
On the last couple of days of Leon's visit he ended up with a stomach flu bug. It hit him at both ends unfortunately. During one of his visits to the bathroom, he was seated (to put it nicely) and then realized he had to throw up. Instead of using the garbage can that is right beside our royal throne, he grabs a bath towel and throws up in it. Afterwards, he rolled up the destroyed towel and put it in the garbage can. I was unaware he had done this until later in the day when Bob found it and told me. Needless to say, I left the towel in the garbage. Leon didn't tell anyone he had done this. He did tell us however, that he had never thrown up before. That would explain one or two things, but not why he didn't mention the destroyed towel.
I spent the week picking up after Leon. Phone, camera, ipod, clothes etc. Did some of his laundry during the course of the week. The day before he was leaving I asked him in the afternoon, to bring me any laundry he had and I would do it, so he could pack everything clean. He said, "No it's okay. I'll just get my mom to do it when I get home." I confirmed that he was sure, and that it was no problem as I always had a load of laundry on the go. No, it was okay.
At 10:20pm, way past my usual bedtime I might add, Leon comes to me and says, "I brought all of my laundry down." Bob and I looked at him, and I said "What laundry, and where were you bringing it?" He replies "My dirty laundry, I brought it downstairs to wash." Bob and I sat in disbelief as we do often with a house full of teens. I said "Leon, I asked you this afternoon to give me laundry! We aren't doing it now!" He said, "Well I can stay up and do it." I told him no and that he had missed the boat and we will just pack his stuff as is. I sat shaking my head as I often do. My youngest Noah mentioned that the dryer vent/hose had come off the back of the dryer. I filed this in my memory bank for tomorrow and headed to bed. Tomorrow was a busy day. Bob goes to work. Takes 2 kids with him to babysit for my sister. One goes to volleyball practice in the middle of the babysitting. The five kids and myself have dental appointments at 1pm. Leon wants to go to a store which is only open until noon and we have to be to the airport by 3:30. We live about 25 minutes from the airport. My nicely organized schedule to get everyone where they needed to be was set in my brain. I am 99% of the time always on time or early. I am OCD about punctuality. It disturbs me to be late for anything.
After showering and making sure everyone was up I ask Leon if he would like help packing. He had been concerned that he would be unable to pack the things he came with back where his mother had put them. He and Josh were starting to look at taking some of our luggage with him, but I said no. Unless his mother was a rocket scientist and it was a requirement in this case, I am sure we could pack his bag. It is at this point that he informs me that he still has some laundry in the dryer. I remember he had a couple of things in the last load I had done yesterday and I went down to retrieve them.
When I walked in the laundry room, it was like a steam bath in there. Then I remembered Noah telling me the dryer pipe was off. The dryer was running at this point. So I shut off the dryer, turned on the exhaust fan, pulled out the washer and dryer and reconnected things and put them back. I was an annoyed sweating mess at this point. Also keep in mind I am pre-menopausal and the hotflashes come on their own. I don't need any help. The kids (no names mentioned) had pulled out the dryer looking for pingpong balls. Another factor to annoy me.
I start wondering why the dryer is going. I open it up, and the load of clothes inside is very damp. I think to myself, the stuff I put in yesterday should be dry by now. Then I open the dryer again and as an intact, wrapped Livesavers mint candy falls out, I realize this is not the load I had put in, but a full load of all of Leon's clothes. As I start sifting through it, I see clothes that I know he has not worn this week and some of Josh's clothes. It is now 11:15am. I need to have this kid packed and get everyone ready to head to town. I go upstairs madder than a wet hen. (Jessica affectionately calls me Mother Hen). In my rant at 2 teenage boys I explained I need to get to town and now we have wet clothes in the dryer (which I ranted some more, should not be there as he had been told the night before!) I also added that I could tell he picked up every thing that had been on Josh's floor and basically threw it all in the dryer dirty or not. He acknowledged my motherly laundry knowledge. He said he could take the wet clothes in a bag home. I said no, that they would stink by the time he got there, and his mother would just have to wash them all over again. Time is a valuable commodity to me and there is no way I will waste mine or anyone else's unnecessarily. So at 12:15 the clothes were dry. As I opened the dryer door, 2 more luckily still wrapped candies fell out onto the floor. I threw everything into a laundry basket with the rest of his belongings and told him he could pack it all at my sister's. We were hitting the road.
The dentist visit saw 4 out of 5 children with cavities much to their dismay. We left with new toothbrushes in hand and appointments for 4 months later for filings. When we got back to my sister's, Leon was all packed. See it wasn't rocket science after all. He had a true sense of accomplishment. We get Leon to the airport and the plane even left 10 minutes early.
We ate dinner in town, which we rarely do and got home around 7:15. Two messages from Leon's mom were flashing on the answering machine. I called her back to let her know that he got on the plane and was on his way. During our conversation she told me that he was ADHD and that he had gone off the meds he had been taking THE WEEK BEFORE HE CAME TO SEE US!!! I sat in a bit of a bewildered state listening to her as Bob wondered what the heck she was telling me. It sure would have been nice to know this before hand. The yelling, wrestling, flu, laundry fiasco etc would all have been dealt with in a different manner. Possibly a more calmish manner.
Two days later I am throwing yet another load of laundry in. As I am sorting through one of the full baskets, I notice that the socks look clean and washed. I do the smell test. Yep, these are clean. As I dig through this basket I realize ALL OF IT IS CLEAN! Then the little light bulb goes off over my head. This is the load of laundry that Leon had taken out and threw in a basket amidst the dirty ones, so he could do his FORBIDDEN LOAD!!! At that point I wanted to strangle kid all over again. I pulled out the wrinkled shirts that I was not going to iron, and threw them back in for another tumble in the wash.
And that was the first half of my Christmas vacation. The rest was spent basically sleeping in until 9am, doing laundry, tidying on a daily basis, doing some school work and relaxing. No complaints there.
New Year's eve was spent at home with Sharon and her family, and Karen and Bill (all friends' names are changed :) We ate and played cards. Very enjoyable evening. I actually stayed up until midnight.
On another day as I drove home with my daughter Jessica, she was recalling a discussion about driving and hitting deer. We basically had said that if you swerve to miss a deer on the road, and wreck your vehicle, your insurance will say it is your fault. You can't prove the accident was due to a deer, because it got away. So basically speaking, you are better off to hit the deer with respect to insurance coverage, not obviously health or safety-wise. So this topic was rumbling around in her brain as we were driving. She turns to me and says, "You know how you were talking about how it is better to hit the deer for insurance?" Of course I replied, "Yes." She asked ever so innocently, "So does that apply to humans too?" These children catch me at a loss for words often. I did quickly tell her, that no you should swerve to miss humans regardless.
At dinner on another evening, we were commenting that the new year was going to be 2012. My husband says, "Isn't that when the world is going to end?" Daughter Nicole ponders this and asks her sister, "If there is no food left would you eat me? " She starts looking at her legs and says, "My legs are pretty strong, good for eating." Jessica says, " Your tongue is the strongest muscle in your body." So of course Nicki starts feeling her tongue. Keep in mind while this is going on, we are a hunting family. We eat what we hunt. The children know that we don't hunt or eat carnivores like wolves, foxes or coyotes. We eat omnivores and herbivores. You know the meat and veggie eaters. So once again the little light bulb goes off over Jessica's head. She promptly says, "So does that mean we will only eat the vegetarians?" Bob and I burst out laughing. "Yes Jessica, we will only eat vegetarians if the world runs out of food." The girls' phys-ed teacher does not eat meat, so I advised them, they could eat her first.
Well this is enough of my ramblings for today.
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