See you over there, and a Happy New Year to you. Thank you very much for reading me - it's mattered more than you can know.
Thursday, 31 December, 2009
Goodbye Crummy Old Year!
My post today - a personal Best Of list for 2009 - is up at Five Minutes For Parenting, and here is my favorite photo from 2009, while I'm at it.
See you over there, and a Happy New Year to you. Thank you very much for reading me - it's mattered more than you can know.
See you over there, and a Happy New Year to you. Thank you very much for reading me - it's mattered more than you can know.
Wednesday, 30 December, 2009
Got A Little Kid?
I'm reviewing and giving away a Webkinz Jr. over at my review blog! See you there.
Tuesday, 29 December, 2009
Holly AND Jolly
I had lots of big blog plans for my Christmas holidays - I was going to update my recipe blog, I was going to post challenging, multi-layered posts, I was going to really make a big effort to visit everyone's blogs and make meaningful, heartfelt comments.
And instead I lay around on my couch and ate candy. Actually, that's too past-tense-y. I am LAYING around on my couch and I am EATING candy. I also opened many, many presents. I love getting presents. I got many, many pleasant things. My children got every toy in the world. We now have them all. Next Christmas, they are getting underpants and socks. I spent some quality time lolling in a friend's hot tub, held my Wee Baby Niece - not, I am hastening to add, while in the hot tub, and had the altogether delightful feeling of a) this crummy freaking year nearly being over and b) everyone being where they should be.
Earlier this year, I read the following poem from A. E. Housman with a shudder of recognition:
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
And I thought at the time that this would be me, looking for the rest of my life at everything before this year as an unwitting land of unappreciated joy. I thought, over this past year, that my husband and I were going to lose all three of our grandparents, that a beloved relative would be lost forever within mental illness, that our financial problems were unfixable, that a much-longed for family baby would not make it safely to birth, and that - even writing this makes my heart chill over - my own child was dying in front of me. I spent much of this year in feeling hunched over with terror and misery, sharp-tongued and bitter-hearted.
None of these things happened.
I spent Christmas morning holding my perfectly delightful niece while my child exclaimed loudly over her presents beside me, and opened gifts from my beloved and nearly fully-recovered relative and spent the rest of the holiday season wishing beloved grandparents Merry Christmas and feeling delighted that this harrowing year is dwindling away. It was - and I say this bemused at the deficiency of words - a bad year, but the land of content, of happiness, stretches languidly before me again and this year is fading away in colourful wrapping paper and ribbons and pretty things, a year as bright and hopeful as a shiny new penny just around the corner. It's almost over, I think, elated, and within me my heart beats as well as ever, and everything is in the right place, shining.
And instead I lay around on my couch and ate candy. Actually, that's too past-tense-y. I am LAYING around on my couch and I am EATING candy. I also opened many, many presents. I love getting presents. I got many, many pleasant things. My children got every toy in the world. We now have them all. Next Christmas, they are getting underpants and socks. I spent some quality time lolling in a friend's hot tub, held my Wee Baby Niece - not, I am hastening to add, while in the hot tub, and had the altogether delightful feeling of a) this crummy freaking year nearly being over and b) everyone being where they should be.
Earlier this year, I read the following poem from A. E. Housman with a shudder of recognition:
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
And I thought at the time that this would be me, looking for the rest of my life at everything before this year as an unwitting land of unappreciated joy. I thought, over this past year, that my husband and I were going to lose all three of our grandparents, that a beloved relative would be lost forever within mental illness, that our financial problems were unfixable, that a much-longed for family baby would not make it safely to birth, and that - even writing this makes my heart chill over - my own child was dying in front of me. I spent much of this year in feeling hunched over with terror and misery, sharp-tongued and bitter-hearted.
None of these things happened.
I spent Christmas morning holding my perfectly delightful niece while my child exclaimed loudly over her presents beside me, and opened gifts from my beloved and nearly fully-recovered relative and spent the rest of the holiday season wishing beloved grandparents Merry Christmas and feeling delighted that this harrowing year is dwindling away. It was - and I say this bemused at the deficiency of words - a bad year, but the land of content, of happiness, stretches languidly before me again and this year is fading away in colourful wrapping paper and ribbons and pretty things, a year as bright and hopeful as a shiny new penny just around the corner. It's almost over, I think, elated, and within me my heart beats as well as ever, and everything is in the right place, shining.
Tuesday, 22 December, 2009
My Grandma's Peanut Butter Squares!
This is one of those very simple recipes that is WAY more than the sum of their ingredients. I will seriously eat a LOT of these, given the chance. Here it is, straight from my grandma to you:
half cup brown sugar
half cup corn syrup. (me -I tried it with honey one time and it worked, so you can substitute if you'd prefer not to use corn syrup.)
1 cup peanut butter
Heat this but don't ever boil it - it'll go hard if you do.
Crush 1 cup of corn flakes, add.
Add 2 cups uncrushed corn flakes. Mix all together and put in a greased 9x14 pan.
Frosting:
1 1/2 CUPS of icing sugar (powdered sugar/aka whatever you use to make frosting)
4-5 tbsps peanut butter
a little bit of butter
mix with a little milk.
And spread on top. This is VERY VERY good. You cut it into little squares for serving, and there you go.
half cup brown sugar
half cup corn syrup. (me -I tried it with honey one time and it worked, so you can substitute if you'd prefer not to use corn syrup.)
1 cup peanut butter
Heat this but don't ever boil it - it'll go hard if you do.
Crush 1 cup of corn flakes, add.
Add 2 cups uncrushed corn flakes. Mix all together and put in a greased 9x14 pan.
Frosting:
1 1/2 CUPS of icing sugar (powdered sugar/aka whatever you use to make frosting)
4-5 tbsps peanut butter
a little bit of butter
mix with a little milk.
And spread on top. This is VERY VERY good. You cut it into little squares for serving, and there you go.
Monday, 21 December, 2009
I won! I WOOOOON!
Guess who won Best Canadian Blog Post Series? And is writing this post? And has a houseful of kids who won't stop fighting?
That's right. This guy.
Disturbingly enough, I was also voted Third Funniest Blogger in Canada. Good grief. That's shockingly high, considering I don't try to be funny. YOU ARE ALL JUST LAUGHING AT MY PAIN.
I'm kidding. I totally try.
Thanks for voting for me! I am dee-lighted, of course.
Okay. How did the caroling go? you may be asking.
It was lovely! Perfect! Festive! My heart grew ten sizes bigger much like the Grinch, and then JUST LIKE THE GRINCH, I ran around Whooville returning all of the crap I'd stolen. Actually, I just supervised a fair number of tweenaged girls AND the Boy, The Baby and two buddies and they sang their hearts out. And they made nearly $100 for the local food bank, which is fairly impressive, I think.
Here's another question: Are you ready for Christmas? I was asked that maybe 200 times yesterday and each time it was like WHAT THE HECK. Is Christmas not coming on the same day this year? No? Then I think I'm all right. I had to make an emergency phone call to a toy store in North Bay this morning - Santa found out he's rather short of stocking stuffers for the girls and a relative is passing through North Bay, SO - and a totally patient sales clerk spent AGES helpingme Santa pick out a bag of stocking stuffers, which I thought was pretty nice. So let me totally recommend Creative Learning in North Bay for all of your toy needs.
I can't find my Christmas stocking. It's red, has Raggedy Ann and Andy on it and my name embroidered at the top ("Becky." People call me Becky, really. They do.) and I've had it all my life AND I CANNOT FIND IT. CHRISTMAS IS RUINED!
*** IMPORTANT IMPORTANT IMPORTANT ****
I found it! It was IN THE FREEZER.
What was it doing THERE?
But it seems fine. Christmas is saved!
How are YOU doing?
That's right. This guy.
Disturbingly enough, I was also voted Third Funniest Blogger in Canada. Good grief. That's shockingly high, considering I don't try to be funny. YOU ARE ALL JUST LAUGHING AT MY PAIN.
I'm kidding. I totally try.
Thanks for voting for me! I am dee-lighted, of course.
Okay. How did the caroling go? you may be asking.
It was lovely! Perfect! Festive! My heart grew ten sizes bigger much like the Grinch, and then JUST LIKE THE GRINCH, I ran around Whooville returning all of the crap I'd stolen. Actually, I just supervised a fair number of tweenaged girls AND the Boy, The Baby and two buddies and they sang their hearts out. And they made nearly $100 for the local food bank, which is fairly impressive, I think.
Here's another question: Are you ready for Christmas? I was asked that maybe 200 times yesterday and each time it was like WHAT THE HECK. Is Christmas not coming on the same day this year? No? Then I think I'm all right. I had to make an emergency phone call to a toy store in North Bay this morning - Santa found out he's rather short of stocking stuffers for the girls and a relative is passing through North Bay, SO - and a totally patient sales clerk spent AGES helping
I can't find my Christmas stocking. It's red, has Raggedy Ann and Andy on it and my name embroidered at the top ("Becky." People call me Becky, really. They do.) and I've had it all my life AND I CANNOT FIND IT. CHRISTMAS IS RUINED!
*** IMPORTANT IMPORTANT IMPORTANT ****
I found it! It was IN THE FREEZER.
What was it doing THERE?
But it seems fine. Christmas is saved!
How are YOU doing?
Saturday, 19 December, 2009
Now Bring Us Some Figgy Pudding
We are going carolling tonight. With a bunch of ten year old girls. In the COLD.
This is probably much worse than whatever you are doing tonight, and that knowledge should light a festive candle in your heart. Fa la la!
Perhaps I'll fall in a snowbank and die.
The nice thing, though, is that as soon as I'm home, I will be 365 days away from the next time I have to go carolling out in the cold with a large group of preteen girls. And THAT will make me merry.
This is probably much worse than whatever you are doing tonight, and that knowledge should light a festive candle in your heart. Fa la la!
Perhaps I'll fall in a snowbank and die.
The nice thing, though, is that as soon as I'm home, I will be 365 days away from the next time I have to go carolling out in the cold with a large group of preteen girls. And THAT will make me merry.
Friday, 18 December, 2009
A brief recap of today so far
- Woke up at about 7 with a strange feeling. What WAS I hearing?
- Got out of bed in my usual morning fog. Staggered around for a few minutes, trying to locate source of Mystery Sound.
- Realize that what I was hearing was a) quite loud b) in the ceiling and c) electric. I called my parents.
- Got the kids up (The Boy had slept at his grandparents). The Girl instantly heard that insane sound. "IS IT A RABID RACCOON?" she shrieked, horrified. Um, no. I don't know WHAT it is, but it's not THAT.
- The Girl was instantly in her coat and boots and outside waiting for her grandfather, who was zipping into town to see what was up.
- The Baby, however, was screaming hysterically and running around in circles. "WE ARE GONNA BURN TO DEAAATH!" she screeched. I calmed her down and got her into her winter things.
- My dad arrives. We toured my grim beeping house. He agreed that the little girls should be removed and takes them home.
- I GO INTO MY ALREADY CREEPY BASEMENT AND TURN OFF THE FUSES. BY MYSELF. IN THE BASEMENT.
- I survive! Sadly, the house is still making The Mystery Noise. My husband is summoned home from work.
- While he crawls around in the attic, I nervously frost some cupcakes for the bake sale at The Girl's school this morning. They look AWESOME - red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and wee gingerbread man sprinkles. At least THAT is a success.
- "Something is smoking up here!" - my husband. WHAT? WE ARE ON THE VERGE OF A HOUSEFIRE. I AM NOT KIDDING.
- I report this incredibly shocking information to Twitter. Twitter is AGHAST. Me too!
- My mother returns with The Girl in tow. The Girl looks pale. Off we go to school!
- The Girl announces at school that she feels like throwing up. Back she goes home!
- I bring in the cupcakes. I get to the school kitchen and then unceremoniously trip and drop them all icing-side down on the floor. TA DA!
- My husband takes the living room ceiling off. My living room now looks like this:
- It's the junction box! It was all messed up and stuff. It's fixed now.
- It's the junction box! It was all messed up and stuff. It's fixed now.- AWESOME INCREDIBLY GOOD NEWS - our ugly old ceiling fan/western 80s light fixture will not be returning to its old home, since I kicked it while I was wearing my snow boots and I broke it. Whoopsie!
- My husband hangs around. We eat meatball subs. Pleasant and anticlimactic.
- "Baby, someday I'm gonna buy you a drywall ceiling like all those rich people have." - My husband on his way to work.
- I am now wrapping gifts with The Girl who has perked up somewhat. And that, I HOPE, is all for today.
Thursday, 17 December, 2009
Hey look!
It's my post for today - all about me being harried and tired because it's Christmas and That Is How Mothers Are Supposed To Feel, or something.
In other news, there are two voting days left! C'mon! Vote for me!
In other news, there are two voting days left! C'mon! Vote for me!
Wednesday, 16 December, 2009
My Christmas Special
EVERYONE gets their own Christmas special, with singing and corny scripts and tons of costumes and I WANT ONE TOO. It's only fair. I mean, I'm neither photogenic nor talented, but I am full of the festive spirit and my show would be AWESOME. Proof:
Opening Scene:
A long opening shot as the cameraman slogs through waist-deep snow to get to my house, then tumbles down my front steps which I have once again forgotten to salt. Luckily, half a dozen children's sleds - which have fortunately not been put away - break his fall. Half-blinded by the glare of all of the lights on the porch, the cameraman manages to stagger into my house.
Me: (startled and in my pajamas) OH CRAP. IS THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL TODAY?
I quickly shove the cameraman towards my kids who are making cookies cheerfully at the schoolroom table, and by "cheerfully" I mean that only one of them is crying. The Baby sings The Chipmunks' Christmas song and then forgets the lyrics halfway through and so does a medley of songs from the Chipmunks' Movie. By this time, I am back and looking gorgeous in a red and white square-dancing dress. Then I sing O Holy Night and sound just like Ella Fitzgerald.
Me: And now for my first special guest of the evening - Magnum PI!
Magnum comes out, looking slightly chilled in his shorts. I have changed into a beautiful hot pink velour evening gown. We sing My Grown-Up Christmas Wish. I sound remarkably like Barbra Streisand. My children - dressed up as bottles of tequila - dance in the background and only get into a fight once.
Me: Thank you, Magnum! That was awesome -
Magnum: Actually, I'm Tom Sellec-
Me: And now, I will sing a solo song all by myself. And I will sound just like Judy Garland.
I am now dressed like a giant piece of holly, which is more slimming than you might think. I sing Christmas Memories so beautifully that I make myself cry hysterically and mascara runs all down my face. It's surprisingly flattering.
My children now come out dressed as Christmas elves. They sing I Ain't Getting Nothin' for Christmas while I laugh myself sick in the background. The Girl, if you watch closely, is only half-heartedly mouthing the words.
Through the magic of television, we are now at the arena. I am wearing a giant hot pink fur trapper hat and matching coat and skates, ominously enough.
Me: And now a figure skating musical number with Scott Hamilton, that hot guy from Supernatural and Willie Nelson!
We sing Hard Rock Candy Christmas and I sound just like Dolly Parton. Sadly, I have forgotten in my hubris that I can't skate and fall down and cut my head open. It's a very festive number.
FINAL SCENE: BACK AT MY HOUSE.
I am back in my pajamas, except now they're a devastating Nora Charles-esque peignoir with a feather trim. I am also wearing a big Christmas bandage on my head. All of my special guests are here. We sing Rocking Around The Christmas Tree and I sound just like Rosemary Clooney.
Me: Merry Christmas, everyone! Now get out of my house!
(camera fades.)
Opening Scene:
A long opening shot as the cameraman slogs through waist-deep snow to get to my house, then tumbles down my front steps which I have once again forgotten to salt. Luckily, half a dozen children's sleds - which have fortunately not been put away - break his fall. Half-blinded by the glare of all of the lights on the porch, the cameraman manages to stagger into my house.
Me: (startled and in my pajamas) OH CRAP. IS THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL TODAY?
I quickly shove the cameraman towards my kids who are making cookies cheerfully at the schoolroom table, and by "cheerfully" I mean that only one of them is crying. The Baby sings The Chipmunks' Christmas song and then forgets the lyrics halfway through and so does a medley of songs from the Chipmunks' Movie. By this time, I am back and looking gorgeous in a red and white square-dancing dress. Then I sing O Holy Night and sound just like Ella Fitzgerald.
Me: And now for my first special guest of the evening - Magnum PI!
Magnum comes out, looking slightly chilled in his shorts. I have changed into a beautiful hot pink velour evening gown. We sing My Grown-Up Christmas Wish. I sound remarkably like Barbra Streisand. My children - dressed up as bottles of tequila - dance in the background and only get into a fight once.
Me: Thank you, Magnum! That was awesome -
Magnum: Actually, I'm Tom Sellec-
Me: And now, I will sing a solo song all by myself. And I will sound just like Judy Garland.
I am now dressed like a giant piece of holly, which is more slimming than you might think. I sing Christmas Memories so beautifully that I make myself cry hysterically and mascara runs all down my face. It's surprisingly flattering.
My children now come out dressed as Christmas elves. They sing I Ain't Getting Nothin' for Christmas while I laugh myself sick in the background. The Girl, if you watch closely, is only half-heartedly mouthing the words.
Through the magic of television, we are now at the arena. I am wearing a giant hot pink fur trapper hat and matching coat and skates, ominously enough.
Me: And now a figure skating musical number with Scott Hamilton, that hot guy from Supernatural and Willie Nelson!
We sing Hard Rock Candy Christmas and I sound just like Dolly Parton. Sadly, I have forgotten in my hubris that I can't skate and fall down and cut my head open. It's a very festive number.
FINAL SCENE: BACK AT MY HOUSE.
I am back in my pajamas, except now they're a devastating Nora Charles-esque peignoir with a feather trim. I am also wearing a big Christmas bandage on my head. All of my special guests are here. We sing Rocking Around The Christmas Tree and I sound just like Rosemary Clooney.
Me: Merry Christmas, everyone! Now get out of my house!
(camera fades.)
Sunday, 13 December, 2009
Hey! You voted for me!
That was swell of you. And I made it into the finals in each of the three categories I was nominated in, which is flattering.
Wanna know what else is flattering? WINNING. Did I ever mention that I am inappropriately competitive? I totally am. You should see me at Monopoly. And also if I win, I will then have something to mention at family gatherings this Christmas instead of rambling on about how many emergency room visits we had this year.
I'm nominated in:
Best Canadian Blog Post series.
- this is for my Halloween blog posts, which were:
Clifford the Big Red Menace
Goodnight Moon Was Creepy Enough Already
Where IS Max and Ruby's Mother?
Don't Cry, Scooby Doo Is Only A Cartoon Dog
Pippi Psychostockings
The Hundred Acre Woods Is Heaven!
The Arthur One, Which I Frankly Did Not Find As Artistically Successful, But Good Try, Me.
Vampires Are Just Not Sexy, I Don't Care How Glittery They Are
The Sheila The Great Meets Franz Kafka One
It's The End Of The World, Charlie Brown.
I am also nominated for Best Canadian Humour Blog.
I'm trying to find a selection of funny posts for you, which is hard. If there was a category for Best Rambling Whining Posts By A Canadian, I could pick out posts easily. But here are my best guesses as to what might be funny:
Canadian TV Men And What I Imagine It Would Be Like To Be Married To Them
My Always-Controversial Oprah Gift List Review
The How Expired Was My Pectin List.
My Review Of A Pro-Adultery Novel
HAHAHA MY PARODY OF GOOP.
The $25,000 Cupcake Car Post
And finally, I'm nominated for Best Canadian Family Blog and wow, there is some tough competition there. Here are some of my personal favorite family-oriented posts I've written this year:
The Hand Me Down post.
The Baby's Pre-K Visit Post
The Cure For Cabin Fever
The Baby's Last Day Of Being Three
I Reviewed As Many Tween Shows As I Could Bear For You.
Me, Housewife.
Anyone can vote, and voting is open until December 19th. And thank you very much - it is incredibly, incredibly flattering to have made it this far and I appreciate it so much.
Wanna know what else is flattering? WINNING. Did I ever mention that I am inappropriately competitive? I totally am. You should see me at Monopoly. And also if I win, I will then have something to mention at family gatherings this Christmas instead of rambling on about how many emergency room visits we had this year.
I'm nominated in:
Best Canadian Blog Post series.
- this is for my Halloween blog posts, which were:
Clifford the Big Red Menace
Goodnight Moon Was Creepy Enough Already
Where IS Max and Ruby's Mother?
Don't Cry, Scooby Doo Is Only A Cartoon Dog
Pippi Psychostockings
The Hundred Acre Woods Is Heaven!
The Arthur One, Which I Frankly Did Not Find As Artistically Successful, But Good Try, Me.
Vampires Are Just Not Sexy, I Don't Care How Glittery They Are
The Sheila The Great Meets Franz Kafka One
It's The End Of The World, Charlie Brown.
I am also nominated for Best Canadian Humour Blog.
I'm trying to find a selection of funny posts for you, which is hard. If there was a category for Best Rambling Whining Posts By A Canadian, I could pick out posts easily. But here are my best guesses as to what might be funny:
Canadian TV Men And What I Imagine It Would Be Like To Be Married To Them
My Always-Controversial Oprah Gift List Review
The How Expired Was My Pectin List.
My Review Of A Pro-Adultery Novel
HAHAHA MY PARODY OF GOOP.
The $25,000 Cupcake Car Post
And finally, I'm nominated for Best Canadian Family Blog and wow, there is some tough competition there. Here are some of my personal favorite family-oriented posts I've written this year:
The Hand Me Down post.
The Baby's Pre-K Visit Post
The Cure For Cabin Fever
The Baby's Last Day Of Being Three
I Reviewed As Many Tween Shows As I Could Bear For You.
Me, Housewife.
Anyone can vote, and voting is open until December 19th. And thank you very much - it is incredibly, incredibly flattering to have made it this far and I appreciate it so much.
Saturday, 12 December, 2009
A Christmas Story For You
My little guy does NOT like to write. Not one bit.
So this morning, we were talking about how much Disney changes fairy tales, and I told them the REAL story of The Little Mermaid - gloomy! - and they were horrified/delighted and asked to hear more of Hans Christian Andersson's depressing works, which led to me reading them The Little Fir Tree.
"What was WRONG with that man?" asked The Boy. And then he announced that he had an idea for A MUCH BETTER STORY THAN THAT ONE, and here - with his permission! - it is (fixed for spelling but not for anything else):
The Little Christmas Tree
Once there was a little fake Christmas tree. And every year it got tooken out again and again and it never got boughten because everyone liked big Christmas trees. It was really sad because no one ever bought it.
Then one day, a kid and his mom went to the shop and bought a big Christmas tree. "There's a little Christmas tree over there," said the kid. "Can I get it?" And the mom said yes. And when the mom bought the big tree she also gave the little boy some money to help buy the little Christmas tree.
And then when they got home they took the big and the little Christmas trees and they decorated them. The big Christmas tree went in front of the living room window and the little Christmas tree went in the little boy's room.
All Christmas, the little tree shined with its lights.
After Christmas, they took down the Christmas trees and put them away. The little boy put his Christmas tree inside his closest, and the little boy whispered to it that he would see it again next ear. The little tree was happy all year in its closet, because it knew that it would shine for its boy again next year.
The end.
So this morning, we were talking about how much Disney changes fairy tales, and I told them the REAL story of The Little Mermaid - gloomy! - and they were horrified/delighted and asked to hear more of Hans Christian Andersson's depressing works, which led to me reading them The Little Fir Tree.
"What was WRONG with that man?" asked The Boy. And then he announced that he had an idea for A MUCH BETTER STORY THAN THAT ONE, and here - with his permission! - it is (fixed for spelling but not for anything else):
The Little Christmas Tree
Once there was a little fake Christmas tree. And every year it got tooken out again and again and it never got boughten because everyone liked big Christmas trees. It was really sad because no one ever bought it.
Then one day, a kid and his mom went to the shop and bought a big Christmas tree. "There's a little Christmas tree over there," said the kid. "Can I get it?" And the mom said yes. And when the mom bought the big tree she also gave the little boy some money to help buy the little Christmas tree.
And then when they got home they took the big and the little Christmas trees and they decorated them. The big Christmas tree went in front of the living room window and the little Christmas tree went in the little boy's room.
All Christmas, the little tree shined with its lights.
After Christmas, they took down the Christmas trees and put them away. The little boy put his Christmas tree inside his closest, and the little boy whispered to it that he would see it again next ear. The little tree was happy all year in its closet, because it knew that it would shine for its boy again next year.
The end.
Thursday, 10 December, 2009
Hippity-hoppity
Okay, totally go and read my gloomy post where I go on about what a crappy mother I am, but before you do, here is some AWESOME DANCING to watch:
True story - my kid is the SAME AGE, pretty much, as the rest of the group. Maybe I should feed her (and the kid who is substantially better than the rest? That's the teacher.).
True story - my kid is the SAME AGE, pretty much, as the rest of the group. Maybe I should feed her (and the kid who is substantially better than the rest? That's the teacher.).
Monday, 7 December, 2009
Forty Things
1. We did not grow up in the same town.
2. My father and his mother, however, DID grow up together in the same faraway town. Weird, eh?
3. Thanks to the way kids are bussed in later grades, we did go to the same high school.
4. I had a crush on him from the time I was 14 years old.
5. We didn't start dating until I was 18, though.
6. He is the only non-family person I've even LIKED for such an extended period of time. This says something just awful about my own character, I know. But it also says something rather nice about him.
7. We broke up right before I turned 20.
8. While we were broken up, he went off to Graphic Designer School and dated a bunch of other women. WHAT-EVER.
9. He's widely regarded as being just freakishly talented. The man could work ANYWHERE. But he loves where he works now.
10. Graphic designers seem to come in two types: 1) drug-using, tattoo-covered bitter coffee junkies and 2) the other type. He's in group number 2).
11. After being broken up for FIVE years and mostly failing at being platonically friendly with each other, we started dating again and in rather short order found ourselves both married AND parents.
12. Which was rather startling, and we both went through a tough time.
13. Also, BOY WERE WE EVER POOR. That really got rid of any idealism either of us had about poverty RIGHT there.
14. We're not poor anymore. PHEW. Good work, husband.
15. He is totally supportive of me. UTTERLY supportive.
16. I suspect that his "type" is "Challenging Tall Brunettes." And also "Busty."
17. I wish he had more time to do actual art - I know he misses it.
18. He's admirable - he's the only person I've ever known who at a very young age made a conscious note of characteristics that he admired in other people and then cultivated them in himself. My personality just seems random and my flaws seems pretty permanent - but out of everyone I've ever known, he alone has MADE his own self.
19. But - and this is endearing - he doesn't even remotely insist on this in other people. He truly has his own way of judging other people: you could be almost anything and still be just fine in his books, so long as you do not fall into the group that he simply describes as "horrible people."
20. "Horrible people" think they have the right to move aggressively through this world. They treat other people rudely and dismissively. They feel entitled and more important than other people. If they are parents, they make choices that will obviously hurt their kids. If they are married, they make choices that will obviously hurt their spouse. They also make stupid demands on hard-working graphic designers. If you don't act like this, you're a-ok in his books.
21. He's a really, really quiet person. He is actively quiet but in a pleasant, comfortable sort of way.
22. He is also - once he is comfortable around you - VERY funny.
23. In fact, he says he married me because I make him laugh. Oh. Good.
24. He is comforting in a crisis. When I went through a prolonged and very difficult time this year, he was the only person who was able to make me feel at all that things would work out, that everything would eventually be okay. AND HEY, HE WAS RIGHT.
25. He is a very good father - patient and yet able to be strict when necessary, kindly and yet maintaining high standards.
26. He also tucks each kid in each night and reads each of them a different chapter or book every night. So far, he's read the entire Ramona/Henry Huggins/Moffat oeuvre several times through with various children.
27. He can make almost anything. Literally. Right now, I am listening to music from my computer play through my stereo in the next room thanks to a connecting cable that he made last night while sitting in a chair that he fixed by MAKING a new part for it.
28. He used to have a very limited number of things he would eat. He was notoriously picky.
29. Not any more!
30. He rarely compliments. If he has told you, for example, one time in the past that you are attractive, this compliment should be taken as a permanent statement regarding your appearance.
31. He gives AWESOME presents.
32. He also goes shopping for the kids ON HIS OWN to buy them presents each Christmas. Oh yes he does.
33. He is responsible. I would trust him with anything. Having never met him, you could still trust him with anything. He is just that sort of person.
34. He does not whine or complain, ever. If he can't fix something on his own, then things just obviously are the way they are and there's no sense making a fuss about it.
35. He does not brag, and he does not need constant ego-stoking. He knows his own value and his own skills, and that is enough for him.
36. "He is a sweet, nice daddy." - The Baby.
37. He is horribly good at Scrabble and other word games.
38. I adore him. I cannot think of anything about him that I do not know and love.
39. I feel smugly clever for having married him.
40. He is forty today. He is not making a big fuss about it.
2. My father and his mother, however, DID grow up together in the same faraway town. Weird, eh?
3. Thanks to the way kids are bussed in later grades, we did go to the same high school.
4. I had a crush on him from the time I was 14 years old.
5. We didn't start dating until I was 18, though.
6. He is the only non-family person I've even LIKED for such an extended period of time. This says something just awful about my own character, I know. But it also says something rather nice about him.
7. We broke up right before I turned 20.
8. While we were broken up, he went off to Graphic Designer School and dated a bunch of other women. WHAT-EVER.
9. He's widely regarded as being just freakishly talented. The man could work ANYWHERE. But he loves where he works now.
10. Graphic designers seem to come in two types: 1) drug-using, tattoo-covered bitter coffee junkies and 2) the other type. He's in group number 2).
11. After being broken up for FIVE years and mostly failing at being platonically friendly with each other, we started dating again and in rather short order found ourselves both married AND parents.
12. Which was rather startling, and we both went through a tough time.
13. Also, BOY WERE WE EVER POOR. That really got rid of any idealism either of us had about poverty RIGHT there.
14. We're not poor anymore. PHEW. Good work, husband.
15. He is totally supportive of me. UTTERLY supportive.
16. I suspect that his "type" is "Challenging Tall Brunettes." And also "Busty."
17. I wish he had more time to do actual art - I know he misses it.
18. He's admirable - he's the only person I've ever known who at a very young age made a conscious note of characteristics that he admired in other people and then cultivated them in himself. My personality just seems random and my flaws seems pretty permanent - but out of everyone I've ever known, he alone has MADE his own self.
19. But - and this is endearing - he doesn't even remotely insist on this in other people. He truly has his own way of judging other people: you could be almost anything and still be just fine in his books, so long as you do not fall into the group that he simply describes as "horrible people."
20. "Horrible people" think they have the right to move aggressively through this world. They treat other people rudely and dismissively. They feel entitled and more important than other people. If they are parents, they make choices that will obviously hurt their kids. If they are married, they make choices that will obviously hurt their spouse. They also make stupid demands on hard-working graphic designers. If you don't act like this, you're a-ok in his books.
21. He's a really, really quiet person. He is actively quiet but in a pleasant, comfortable sort of way.
22. He is also - once he is comfortable around you - VERY funny.
23. In fact, he says he married me because I make him laugh. Oh. Good.
24. He is comforting in a crisis. When I went through a prolonged and very difficult time this year, he was the only person who was able to make me feel at all that things would work out, that everything would eventually be okay. AND HEY, HE WAS RIGHT.
25. He is a very good father - patient and yet able to be strict when necessary, kindly and yet maintaining high standards.
26. He also tucks each kid in each night and reads each of them a different chapter or book every night. So far, he's read the entire Ramona/Henry Huggins/Moffat oeuvre several times through with various children.
27. He can make almost anything. Literally. Right now, I am listening to music from my computer play through my stereo in the next room thanks to a connecting cable that he made last night while sitting in a chair that he fixed by MAKING a new part for it.
28. He used to have a very limited number of things he would eat. He was notoriously picky.
29. Not any more!
30. He rarely compliments. If he has told you, for example, one time in the past that you are attractive, this compliment should be taken as a permanent statement regarding your appearance.
31. He gives AWESOME presents.
32. He also goes shopping for the kids ON HIS OWN to buy them presents each Christmas. Oh yes he does.
33. He is responsible. I would trust him with anything. Having never met him, you could still trust him with anything. He is just that sort of person.
34. He does not whine or complain, ever. If he can't fix something on his own, then things just obviously are the way they are and there's no sense making a fuss about it.
35. He does not brag, and he does not need constant ego-stoking. He knows his own value and his own skills, and that is enough for him.
36. "He is a sweet, nice daddy." - The Baby.
37. He is horribly good at Scrabble and other word games.
38. I adore him. I cannot think of anything about him that I do not know and love.
39. I feel smugly clever for having married him.
40. He is forty today. He is not making a big fuss about it.
Thursday, 3 December, 2009
It is COLD out today!
Cold and snowing!
I wrote a weepy, happy Christmas post at 5 Minutes for Parenting today, and it's about my favorite Christmas song this year. So I recommend that you go read that.
(and on voting: did you know that you can vote EVERY DAY? Mmm-hmm! And thank you VERY much for your votes and VERY VERY much to the people who nominated me - delightful!)
I wrote a weepy, happy Christmas post at 5 Minutes for Parenting today, and it's about my favorite Christmas song this year. So I recommend that you go read that.
(and on voting: did you know that you can vote EVERY DAY? Mmm-hmm! And thank you VERY much for your votes and VERY VERY much to the people who nominated me - delightful!)
Tuesday, 1 December, 2009
Vote For Meeeee!
I am BLUSHING MODESTLY.
Over at the Canadian Blog Awards, I am nominated for:
Best Family Blog
Best Humour Blog
and Best Blog Post Series, for my Halloween posts.
If you'd like to vote for me, that would be great. Voting is open to everyone. (I don't know how many times you can vote. After December 12th, I believe there is going to be a narrowed-down second voting session as well.)
Over at the Canadian Blog Awards, I am nominated for:
Best Family Blog
Best Humour Blog
and Best Blog Post Series, for my Halloween posts.
If you'd like to vote for me, that would be great. Voting is open to everyone. (I don't know how many times you can vote. After December 12th, I believe there is going to be a narrowed-down second voting session as well.)
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