we do things differently around here

For most of you, Wednesdays are known as "Hump Day".
But in our humble abode, it's been renamed "Rump Day". At least for this week.

Yesterday, my Chicklet had the gym class from hell at last period. During which not only did she get boinked on the nose with a big ball (her pretty nose is fine)... but (and this is merely the only appropriate word I could insert and not me being a smartass -oops) she also went from the crouching frog position to a sitting position in Olympic record time.

So later this afternoon, we'll be making a car trek through snow filled, pot hole littered streets to go see an osteopath to have her very sore coccyx checked out. If she doesn't need valium after that car ride, I probably will.

How's that for her first day back from Christmas break? Oh Lord don't let it be broken...

“Well, after this I should think nothing of falling down stairs.”

- Alice in Wonderland

Happy Birthday Dad!

Happy 89th Daddy!



I am truly blessed to still have you in my life.



You've taken care of me, taught me right from wrong and given me the example of what a real man is. 

Hardworking
Serving his community
Kind friend
Loving husband
Devoted father and grandfather



You taught me that I could be anything and that I deserved the best. 
Thank you. I've finally found a man that lives up to the standard you set.



I love you... always.

OPA!

Yesterday, I spent quite a few hours donating my time at Chicklet's school. It was Spring Carnival. 

Since the beginning of the school year, each class was assigned a country (a "we are the world" kind of thing). And this "people of the world" theme continued during Carnival. Country-themed activities were set up outside and classes went from one activity to the other with their "passports" (which we G.O's stamped with bingo stampers). Of course, they couldn't visit all the countries in one afternoon, so their teachers had each class' itinerary. The nice thing was: no customs, no security checkpoints, just open borders.

Just before it all began and after the "sugar house" (cabane à sucre in Quebec) themed lunch (during which I cleaned more lunch trays than I care to count) the volunteers gathered in the library with the principal (why is it I still stand up straight in the presence of a principal?) and received assignments. We had kangaroo (potato sack) races for Australia, recycling boxes on wheels/gondolas for Italy, nectar of the Gods (i.e. hot chocolate) for Mexico, etc...

Somehow, I ended up with Greece. My Papou was probably responsible for that somehow. *grin*


So, my assignment? Teach 5 classes how to dance the "sirtaki" (think Zorba the Greek). 


Ha! Not bad for a red-headed skinny lady!

I hadn't danced this since my own cousin's Big Fat Greek wedding, but you never forget. (I'm still stuffed from that day LOL). NOBODY puts on a wedding celebration like Greeks. If you haven't experienced it, I strongly recommend it. The ceremony is beautiful and the celebration afterwards is beyond compare. They have a way of making everyone feel welcome (and a little Ouzo doesn't hurt, either!) 





My thighs still hurt. But then, so do my cheeks from smiling.

We had fun.. and of all the kids I got? The first-graders ROCKED it!

Happy Birthday Angel Eyes

My life changed 11 years ago, today. I met the most beautiful soul and gazed in the eyes of an angel.

Her father and I were blessed with:

10 perfect fingers...
10 perfect toes...
a cute little button nose...
a full head of dark hair...
and yummy soft cheeks.

My Sweetpea, my girl.


I've watched her take her first steps and heard her first words.
I've lived through the "I do MYSELF's" and "NONONONOs" (barely).


I've listened to her many, many, many versions of the "why did the chicken cross the road" jokes, and watched as she slept in my arms (I still watch her sometimes *sigh*).

I couldn't be prouder of her. She has a sharp mind, the curiosity of Alice in Wonderland (and her blue eyes - we're in for quite a few adventures...), a giggle and a snort that never fail to make me chuckle, a kind and thoughtful heart and some day she'll accomplish great things (like become head of the United Nations or raise her own little chicklets).


I can't say I'm ready for the pre-teens... not by a long shot. But time waits for no mother.

Soon enough I'll be at wits end with requests for cell phones (this has already started...) and "Mom, I NEED my driver's permit... "


and raids in my shoe closet... (this too has already started *sigh* - she'll be stealing my Guess wedges any day now)


My only wish is that she continues to stay true to herself. She has an awesome sense of what is good and right and I know she'll be just fine.

Go on, little wing, explore...


Discover new worlds...



Solve the mysteries of life...



But remember to bring your cape when you head out to save the world.







Bonne Fête mon trésor. Je t'aime.

"We grow neither better nor worse as we get old, but more like ourselves"
- May Lamberton Becker

it's great when our kids make it easier...

In my last post I shared with you one of the questions I'm bombarded with on a regular basis by my entirely too curious girl.

Thankfully, a blogger did my dirty work for me. He's a lot braver than I am. There's no way I would Google the word panties, you just never know what will pop up. Thanks John, you are a prince among men!

So, he found out that panties comes from pantaloons and those used to come in two parts... one for each leg, kind of like chaps (which as Turnbaby knows, are always assless). I told Chicklet about this and she gagged.

The very cool thing about my almost 11 year old is she has quite the modest streak.

Case in point, a while ago, mah Honey was coming to spend some time with us and there is a picture of Chicklet in our bathroom. It's of her taking a bath *gasp* nekkid! She left the picture.. but provided some, um, well... see for yourselves:



Our boy dog has to leave the room when she gets dressed or undressed so he won't see her ladybits.

So the "kissies are gross" combined with this, I'm hoping I'll be safe from boys causing trouble for a few years yet. Of course, just in case... I have a backup plan *evil grin* oh, gotta go... the acid vat is being delivered.

Cleaning his Gun by Rodney Adkins

when Google just isn't an option...

It was inevitable...

My daughter sat in the car one morning this past week as I was driving her to school and asked me the mother of all questions.

It took some fancy hemming and hawing and finally I broke down and said I just didn't know...

"Mom, why do they call it a pair of panties?"

You know, I'm kind of scared to Google that... for reals.

maybe I should explain...

I've been feeling "meh" lately. I went for blood tests this morning. I've been dragging my cute tushie everywhere over the past month or so. I'm starting to think the diagnosis of influenza may have been wrong.

I'm generally a "hyper" kind of person... mind always racing, but not so much lately.

I'm still off work and I frankly don't expect I'll see my office until next year unless the blood tests identify something that a quick course of meds can fix.



I should be worried about the year-end stuff that has to be finalized, but I'm not and that's not like me. I answer emergency calls from work when I'm in cell phone range while I'm on vacation... my work cell has been turned off.

I can't concentrate as my thoughts are strewn every which way, like the wrapping paper on Christmas morn.

I'm tired.

I love my daughter, I have the most wonderful man in my life, but I'm tired.

I enjoy reading (although sometimes I end up reading the same page over again...) - plus I can do this lying down...

I enjoy cooking the foods my mother cooked when I was a child before the holidays (which included a really good "tourtière" or meat pie this weekend)- it's the cleaning up that wipes me out and then I need to lie down.

I enjoy snuggling with Sharkdog (except when she farts - ugh) - also done lying down!

I enjoy watching old movies I haven't seen in ages... like "Anastasia" with Yul Brynner and Ingrid Bergman - the chesterfield is dang comfy to lie down on...

I keep starting my sentences with "I"...

But I'm tired.

I have headaches, body pains... did I mention I'm tired?


I'm looking forward to the time I will get to spend with my daughter in the days leading up to Christmas and the precious few days I will have with the man that holds my heart over New Years. Their hugs make everything better.

So, Dianne, Slyde, Irish Gumbo, Lisa... no need to kick anyone's butt.

Except maybe the asshats that named their kids Adolf Hitler and Aryan Nation... cause they? Are asking for it.

Or maybe the nurse that took my blood and used a surgical tape that seems to go from my armpit to my wrist... man, that's going to sting when I rip it off.

Little moments...

it kills everything else...

...maybe the cold and snow will kill the germies?

After being cooped up for a while, Chicklet and I went out to clear some of the snowfall we've had over the last two days. And after helping me remove the snow, and ice and snow (yeah... layers!) that covered the car, she wanted to play a bit.

It's nice to see some rosy cheeks on her face.

What sucks though is: no hot chocolate as the ban on all things dairy is still on *sigh*

"Love is like swallowing hot chocolate before it has cooled off. It takes you by surprise at first, but keeps you warm for a long time."

things you want to hear in bed...

"I just want to be in your sphere of hotness!"

Yes folks! That was uttered by someone last night in my bed.

Problem is?

My Chicklet said it as she was attempting to stick her ice cold feet on my bare legs.

I can't believe I said that

As Chicklet has been loafing on the chesterfield (that's couch for you non-Canadians) all day, she got to do all kinds of stuff from there, one of which: eating.

I made her what I believe is her favourite food of all time (apart from chocolate): shell noodle soup in chicken broth. It's quite the non gastronomic feast but.. it reminds her of her grandma and makes her feel better.

Mid second bowl, she felt the call of mother Nature and had to run off to the bathroom and tinkle. Thus leaving her half eaten bowl of soup on the living room table.

Guess who showed up? You got it... Sharkdog aka the bottomless stomach.

So, what did I say?

No soup for you!

I've turned into a Seinfeld character... well, at least I'm not George.

it never ends...

Chicklet had been complaining of a tummy ache yesterday morning, but I thought it might have been related to the chili she had at her dad's so off to school she went.

Yeah, no.

I picked her up after a first miserable day back at work (apparently the sounds of my coughing echoed all the way down the hall) and she looked like a zombie. I was told she barely ate at lunch. She told me the smell of her food made her want to barf. So, I got her home, stopping on the way to pick up some ginger ale and orange juice. Got her settled into bed and she found that she indeed had a fever. So we're going back to the doc's this morning. Her tummy still hurts, she has a headache and it's concentrated behind her ears. Apparently there's been a bit of a gastroenteritis epidemic throughout the school. JUST what we needed.

*sigh*

It just never ends.

a wish...

I can't be with my Honey for Thanksgiving in person, but my heart is with him and our family at home.

So on this day of family togetherness, when we are reminded of the bounty we are all graced with, be it the giggle of a small child, a warm embrace with a loved one, a warm blanket and a snuggle in bed or a simple "I love you" spoken ever so softly, I ask that you enjoy your day... and that you love the ones you're with.

And maybe spare a few minutes to help feed the less fortunate...

just you wait, miss sugarpants...

Something happened to my sweet little sunshine princess that made her not want any more "kissies". She still wants hugs, but no kissies. Now if you know me at all, you'll realize, this? Is unacceptable!

What has she resorted to in order to prevent me from kissing her? She sucked her big toe (thank Hera it was clean)!!! Excuse me while I go yak, toss my cookies, call ralph (I knew a Ralph once, he was vomit inducing so, heh, a worthy slang term indeed) on the big white phone, bark at the ants, etc. (On a side note... While I was looking up nifty ways to say vomit on the interwebz - cause that's what the interwebz is all about, eh?- my Chicklet asked me why I was laughing. I told her I had found new ways of saying vomit... She said: Simon Cowell? Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah! My child!) Maybe she has a disorder like those people that eat dirt. I'll have to look that up on WebMD.



I used to spend hours kissing her sweet face when she was a baby. Her breath smelled like Granny Smith Apples. And she would give me those big open mouth, wet and drooly, baby eat-your-cheek kissies. I let her drool kiss ME... and now? She turns on me!

"Chicklet, why don't you want kissies?"
"Because, kissies are wet and disgusting."

You know I'm totally reminding her of this when she starts dating, right? Totally.

always remember

...to empty the bathtub after your kid takes a bath.

So yesterday, in the hopes of washing away the ickies, Chicklet took a long leisurely bubble bath. When she was done, she got out, dried off (I know this because her jammies were dry although she was a prune) and put on the aforementioned jammies (they have penguins on them) to join me as we watched SYTYCD Canada before she was shooed to her own bed.



I remember asking her if she had pulled the plug in the bath and her "Oops!" response... She always forgets. I swear I had made a mental note to go back and correct her oversight. But the sticky note fell behind some other clutter in my brain.

I settled in for the night with our dogs snoring loudly in the room. Sharkdog was in her usual spot (hogging the bed) and Dumdum was by the bedroom door. That dog seems to prefer sleeping in front of doors. I think he keeps hoping I'll forget he's there, wake up in the darkened room to fetch water or visit the WC and trip over him and provide him with a carcass to scavenge. I'm actually giving him far too much credit. He is the "Pinky" to Sharkdog's "The Brain".

In the middle of the night, as I was sleeping soundly, the plan to take over the house went into full force.



Ok, actually, the dogs were thirsty and requested some libations. So... being the good hooman I am (if I do this quick I'll never really wake up... yeah... that's the ticket) I crawled out of bed and opened the bedroom door so the Trouble Twins could quench their thirst. They're like Hobbits with pints, I tell ya.

Dumdum started down the stairs towards the water bowl in the kitchen and Sharkdog was dragging her fat carcass (I really do love them... yeah...) behind him. That is... until I decided to visit the WC in the dark.

That my friends, is when all hell broke loose.

You see, Sharkdog has discovered the joys of drinking from the faucet in the bathtub.


and


SPLASH!



and


no! no! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!




$%@&(?&!!!!!

Half wet dog... in the dark... wanting to go back on my bed... smelly... not a Bounce sheet in sight.... where the $@%$ is the towel?

Get back here!

No!

STOP!


ARGH!!!!!!!!!!

I need new jammies...

I hate you.

*stubbs toe*

$@%$

*Sharkdog smirking* I swear she was smirking!!!

*drool* Yeah, keep doing that Dumdum...

Great, now I'm awake.

What's on TV?



This morning, Chicklet was still icky. So... home again. After hugging Sharkdog until Sharkdog would be hugged no more she proceeded to hug Dumdum... who had enough right quick but is too much of a wuss to do anything about it.

The following ensued:

Me, the jello and soup maker extraordinaire: "Let him be, he looks miserable!"

Chicklet aka the Germ Factory aka the "why are you blogging this" whiner: "But I want to hug a dog! And I can't hug Chelsea (you know, Sharkdog's given name)!" (in her whiny sucky tone)

Moi: "Why not? She won't let you?" *snarf*

Germs: "Yeah.. and I don't want to... she has tuna-butt"

OH.DEAR.MERCIFUL.GOD!

Not THAT again!!!

stop it Mom!

I've been walking around with a garlic garland around my neck in the hopes that The Chicklet's germies will stay away from my sinus cavities.

Her school has a "no fever" policy. So... since I have no other alternatives, it means I work from home and run around making red jell-o and chicken soup.












Thankfully I stocked up after our last brush with zombification.



Who knew visiting Steenky Bee would mean her germs would spread through the interwebs right to our house? And to think I've been using the Mac! What happened to "an Apple a day keeps the doctor away"?