Oy Vey, now my profile and pic and stuff is way down the bottom of the blog, mingling with the backwash. Is it just me or is it just me. All the other blogs I read seem to look the same every day. But mine has that special quality, that je ne sais quap. And I can't fix it. So there you go.

Hey! Daylight savings time this weekend! OH wait, it's the bad one, where you lose an hours sleep. Never mind.

We get our van in about four hours! Whoola! Gotta take Sammy to pianny first, then mail some ebes, then back home to shovel some spaghetti and meatballs into my kids mouths, THEN we get to go. We are bringing all three kids up to Sterling Snobbery Honda to get the van. This is our plan for forcing them to deal with us quickly and with a minimum of nonsense and waiting. I may even pinch one or two of the kids to get some crying going, you know, just to speed things up. KIDDING. They will be tired at that time, they won't need any pinching.

So yeah. Looking forward to getting out and about a bit, as the kids have been sick AGAIN and we haven't really done anything social since easter morn. Monty hasn't been to school, Sam missed one day, and Lucy hasn't seen her boos at all. And mommy has had countless cups of tea ALONE. Wahh Wahh Wahh.

alright wwell I better make the meatballz now. When did it get to be 4 08? Ai yai yai.

Happy thurs. Without a Trace tonight!

a.

Well Fine-all-EE blogger lets me post!

What day is it? Oh yeah. Wed. I was under the weather and lost a day or so, but now I'se back for the attack, and that is a good thing because papa forderer has night school tonight and won't be home till 10. Hmmm, maybe time to use those free Happy Meal gift certificates I've been hoarding...

It's springy out! And we get our new-to-us van tomorrow! Can't wait. That reminds me, I meant to open the windows of the stinky Accord to air the smell out. BRB.

Okay. Geez I hope they don't turn us away at the dealership tomorrow night. "Sorry Mr and Mrs Forderer. But we can't accept that stinkbomb of a car you have sitting out there. That smell is permanent. You are the weakest link goodbye."

Eeep. Now I'm worried. But we have already done up the deal, so they gotta take it, no? I mean, it smelled last wed when they looked at it and told us that we were responsible for paying a thousand bucks because there were some dents and a 'substandard paint repair'. They never mentioned the smell. I think I will just Febreeze the shit out of the carpets just before we go in. That should fool them. Okay. Feeling better.

Why am I so not an adult? I go around 96% of the time cowering in the corners, thinking that someone is ONTO me for some reason or another. Whether it is the junk drawer in my kitchen that is overflowing that I worry what if I die and they look in here and know I am a bad housekeeper? (As if tripping over the sixty pairs of shoes in the hallway and not being able to put a coat in the front hall closet because it is so full of CRAP isn't enough to give em a clue). Or the feeling that I haven't paid a bill and that someone is going to come after me with a pair of handcuffs. Or the secretary at Sam's school hates me because my kids miss the bus and she probably thinks I tell them to miss the bus so I can have an extra twenty minutes of free babysitting while they sit in her office afterschool and wait for me to come get them.

All these things, like the dread of having a smelly car, hang over my head like the anvil in the Wile E Coyote cartoons. And the roadrunner is up there, waiting for the right moment to drop the thing. And I feel like a kid. Scared and inadequate and incompetent. Blech.

All of you who are out there with your Type A personalities. I know it must be hard to have to conquer the world by 11 am. I know you are probably tired after those 10 mile runs while doing business deals on your cell phones and having cookies in the oven at the same time. But let me tell you. Us 'relaxed' people who don't seem to care about anything are no happier than you. At least you finish things. We not only don't finish them, but then we also feel bad about not finishing, not calling, not cleaning, not figuring out where that FRIGGING SMELL CAME FROM. AND knowing, (and the knowing is the part that kills me) that if we were BETTER PEOPLE who didn't have to let our kids eat and drink in the CAR because we are ALWAYS LATE fOR EVERYTHING, the smell wouldn't be there in the FIRST PLACE.

So it's all my fault. Everything. See how hard it is to be like this? I take a perfectly good springlike wednesday with a new car thursday coming right after and paint it with this gloomy brush. No wonder they say that scents can change your mood. Look what happened to me. I was in that car for ten seconds to put the windows down and now my whole life is a piece of crap. Dramatics 101 anyone?

Alright, well, I guess I will go make some neccessary phone calls. Or maybe I will just have some Easter chocolate and sit on the kitchen floor and sing Happy Trails to Lucy.

See? Which would YOU rather do?

ARRGGHH.

A.

Wanna waste some time?

http://www.awfulplasticsurgery.com/

I spent a thoroughly enjoyable 45 minutes here yesterday.

Cheerses,
A.

Nice Easter Day

All in all. I am tired so I ain't feelin' the muse right now. But it was a decent day. Getting to churchola by 8:45 am with the three kids was a bit hoola, more than usual because I wanted them to look nice, so there was more running around for matching socks and stuff than usual. I REALLY NEED TO GET THIS HOUSE UNDER CONTROL. Case in point. Put out Easter treats for kids last night. Put away bag of leftover stuff I had bought for my nieces. Went to look for said bag this morning but it was gone, sucked up into the vortex that is my messee house. Blech. You know its bad when a bag of treats can disappear. I mean, a pack of smokes or something would be one thing. But large objects blending in with the surroundings of clutter is disturbing.

AnyHOO. Church was nice, I missed rehearsal last night as my lady was sick, and two of the songs I have literally never heard before. So there I am on stage, just winging (and, lets face it, lip synching just a bit) to these songs. It's weird. I don't play an instrument and can't read music, but after hearing a few lines of a song, I kind of 'get' what it's doing, and can kind of just sing along. Handy, when you think of it.

So it was a nice service, I could have done with one or two more upbeat songs, but whaddya gone do. I do like Easter sunday at church, with the kids all dressed up and the lilies everywhere and that impending springy hopeful feeling.

Then we went to my parents and had brunch. I mean, meat and eggs. Seriously. Teal sausage, bacon, ham. Quiche, scrambled eggs, english muffins slathered in butter. Y.U.M. Gotta love a salty meaty scrumptious brunch. And my little niece Renee Meadow is just getting gorgeous. The kids were cute with their indoor egg hunt. I did have to firmly suggest to Sam to SLOW down and LET the OTHER kids FIND the EGGS TOO. He just gets all excited and it must be a great feeling to be the oldest one, the fastest and most cunning, when it comes to the hunt.

Now I have a lot of chocolate to hide. In my yap, preferably.

Ahhh. Like I said, Lucy had this wicked wicked virus that totally knocked her on her five inches wide across bum for five days. I have never seen a kid so lethargic. It was freaking me out a bit that she would wake up from her nap, then come downstairs with me and in five minutes, be back asleep on my lap. Poor lady girlfriend.

But she is very much on the mend so that's good.

Tell me in the comments if the whole child illness thing bores you. I can take it.

I have this thing about people who blog about being sick. It kind of bugs me to read a string of posts about the blogger being sick, describing every snotty detail, like it is some fascinating thing to describe a common cold. Don't get offended. I have indulged in this myself once or twice in the past year. It's your blog, you can write whatever you please. I just hate when it is like, a motif.

Among other news, I sold a piece of vintage fabric yesterday on ebay, a single yard of 70's fabric with dogs and bunnies on it, for $43.00 US. I tell ya, ebay is such a kick when it's like that. It's why I keep comin' back for more.

Sam just asked me if I can download the notes for Ozzy's song, 'Mr. Crawley', so he can learn it on guitar. What a kid.

Alright well, I better go. I promised myself that I would clean the kitchen tonight. It would really suck not to be able to find the bread tomorrow morning because it is buried under all the rubbish.

Ciao. And Happy Easter!

A.

Mrtl tagged me!

For those who don't know what this means, (like how I was five minutes ago until I found out), you get tagged by a blogger who has answered questions on their blog and you have to answer the same questions on your own blog. At least, that is what I think is going on.

Forgive me for not linking the book names, I still can't figure out how to do it, though it ain't for lack of trying.

1. What book would I like to be?
Ummm, this is weird to think about but I guess I would like to be a medical book, a great big expensive one that lists all the diseases so I would know what is wrong with me or not wrong with me any time a symptom came up. Plus they are heavy and important.

2. Have I ever had a crush on a fictional character?
When I was a kid I had a crush on Deenie, you know the girl in Judy Blume's book who is really pretty but has scoliosis. I just wanted to be her. And I also loved Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Right now I kind of like George Shrink's dad. Check him out! He's cute.

3. What is the last book I bought?
I buy lots of books used. Last one was Roots by Alex Haley.

4. What is the last book I read?
I just finished "The Lords of Discipline" yesterday. Finally. I cried at the end. It took me six weeks to read that book. But that was prob'ly because I read "Watermelon" and "The Hundred Secret Senses" while I was reading the Lords. Great great book. Um, Books.

5. What book am I currently reading?
Roots. Just started it today. And I am peeking into my hubby's Stephen Ambrose Band of Brothers too. (Shh! Don't tell him. He will get all worked up because he will think I will wreck it or lose it on him.)

6. What 5 books would I take with me if I were stranded on a desert island?

Geez. Is there a "How to Roast Wild Meat and Influence Other Castaways?" Cause I would definitely bring that.

I would bring Kane and Abel by Jeffrey Archer because it can't be overread.

I would bring the Norton Anthology of American Literature Part One and Two. And I would have nightly recitations of Wallace Stevens on the beach.

Something long and tedious would be good. Moby Dick, or Catch 22. Because when else would you bother unless there was nothing else to read?

And, um, that book that has all the movies in it, like the Movie Guide or something? Then I could reminisce about all the lovely movies I've seen.

Okay, I will tag some people on their comments now. Look out!

RedHill Road

Once in a while if you are lucky, you get to step out of your life for an evening. It could be a great movie that scoops you up and into the story. It could be a social event where you meet new people and talk and laugh and feel alive and even interesting. It could be an event that opens your heart to bigger possibilities, like the time I stood in the zamboni entrance at Copps Coliseum when I was 22 and listened to a lone bagpipe player play 'Amazing Grace' slowly and so sadly, and ten thousand people were also listening and I don't know if it was the sound of the listening or the sound of the bagpipes but there was this reverence in the room, this ache and endearment that made me cry.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Last night I got to 'step out'. I went to a CD release party for my cousin Rory's band, Redhill Road, at Hughes Room in Toronto. It was great.

Hughes Room is this cool place with great food and we had a big table with a perfect view of the band. They play kinda bluegrassy acoustic country-ish stuff. Great originals. Awesome harmonies. Three guitars, a bass and a drummer, and they all sing. Charly Chiarelli was there, and he got up and played harmonica for a few songs.

Did I say great originals? They were the kind that make you nod in agreement, make you wistful and even teary and just glad you were there. It is a great thing when people listen together, and the music is like threads that run between you.

If you want to check out the band, you can check them out at

www.redhillroad.com

Have a good Tersday.
A.

Ramblin'.

Yay! Chloe is back on 24! Gotta love that saucy smirk of hers. She is the best, and I am glad poor ole Edgar-"I'm-doing-it-as-fast-as-I-can" has some back up.

Except I think she is totally a double agent now. They got to her when she had her four hours at home with her messy hair and comfy clothes on. I know this because of that teeny half-mouthed smile she did after she hung up the phone on Michelle. She is working for 'the cause'. Mark me words.

It was a good episode. I am sorry to see the spooky Dina Araz go. I did like her character, and I will miss her saying, "Eye Wont teh zee Mahye SZON!" every five minutes.

We got a Van!

The 2000 Windstar with the 54,000 kms on it is ours. We pick it up next week. They tried to sell us all that crap like life insurance (on car payments, give me a bloody brake.) and undercoating, and the 'business manager' (AKA rust-proofing salesperson) was a tad annoyed with us when we said no, we don't want any of that, but oh well. I can't wait to get out of my still sorta stinky Accord. And I can't believe that my extreme cleaning job didn't get rid of it. Blech.

Ummmm, what else. It is 10 and I am dog tired. Spring, eh. Kids were out for three hours afterschool. Which is nice, in a way that they are so excited to get the bikes and skateboard out and friends over, etc. Not so nice when it's Monty climbing all over the place pulling out twenty things to play with and then taking off down the street on his bike. He is still kinda too little to be out there with the big boys, I think. I still don't trust him 100% to not run on the road or run away, so it might well be a long summer. And my Luca is like a red-headed pinball out there, no qualms about walking right off the end of the driveway at any given second. So mamma will be getting off her big white butt methinks and doing some serious corralling this spring. At least until they make those perimeter-zapper things you use to keep the dogs under control, at least until they make a kinder, gentler kiddy version.

Signing off, still have dinner aftermath to deal with.

Night.
A.

I love this picture, it's by James Christensen. I love all the details, and I love her simple red shoes. This is a nice way to think of my job here in my domicile.

On the Type F personality transformation front, I cleaned out my car today. I mean, I DETAILED IT. I called a place to ask about getting it done and it was $139 to do the interior alone. After the small stroke I had (left eye still not blinking) I said, "oh, um. Can I call you back?" Which is my version of being assertive and saying that is too WAY too much money. That I can get my HOUSE done for 90 bucks, never mind my little sedan.

So, armed with Zep carpet and upholstery cleaner I went to town on that sucker whilst M and S were at school and L was napping. It felt good to give it a real go. I tripped over the Shop Vac cord only twice, the first time was just a little trip, stand up quick, look around to see if any neighbors saw me. The second time was a bonafide Raymond Grouchy fall forward, couldn't get my legs in front of me to stop the inertia so I had to put my hands out and well if I was in the army it would have looked like some badass captain just screamed in my ear to drop and give him twenty.

But aside from the two Shop Vac spasticolas I did a good job. The funky smell is outta there, replaced by the refreshing if a little chemical smell of ZEP. So now when I bring the car into the Honda Dealership they won't tell me to get that stinking automobile the hell off their property. Which is nice.

We have decided to go probably with a 2000 Windstar that is in impeccable shape (aka no kids in it ever) instead of an Odyssey. Honda makes great cars, byes oh byes but they are too expensive!

The annoying thing about car shopping is that the salesperson tells you whatever he thinks you want to hear.

Approaching the Windstar, he says,

"The great thing about this van is that it doesn't have power doors! Because those are the first thing you usually have problems with!"

Then we are looking at a 2004 Odyssey.

"Here you have your power doors! Aren't these so convenient with the kids! They are great!"

Hmmm.

Thinking now I could probably be a good car salesman. I have that dualistic personality sometimes.

Alright well I better go take my MIL to my SIL's now.

Ciao.
A.

Finishing 'Watermelon' by Marian Keyes right now. Of course what can you say about MK. Her books read themselves right in front of you, you can't even stop them once they get going.

Had a fun girls dinner out tonight at Cafe Limoncello with Tracy, her friends Teresa and Heather, and Sandy. Nice time! A ton of laughs and lovely (Italian (I know, I will be checking into the Italian Food Rehab Clinic very soon.)) food, and great to go out with the gals and actually look someone in the eye when they are talking, instead of half listening to the person and half listening to see if someone needs you to wipe their bum or not, or starting a great story and then flying out of the room because someone has knocked a plate off the dining room table, then someone else has just made an escape attempt out the front door, then the phone rings, then you finally get back to your story but the magic is gone, you don't know what you were talking about in the first place except is there any more tea? And no, no sugar but would you just grind a few tylenol in there?

So yeah. Nice night out on Ottawa Street!

Tomorrow we may go see about a van. The kidlets are getting a little condensed in the back seat, and the knocking of heads and arguing can really get to a person in the front seat, namely me. And daddy. Plus it would be nice to not have to take two cars if MIL wants to come with us anywhere or if Sam wants to bring a friend, etc.

Alright well now I am boring myself with this blog entry. Apologies all around. Sleep well. And if it is tomorra and you are reading this, well, Wake well.

Ciao!

A.

50 more things about me.

Nah. Just kiddin. Happy St. Patty's day though, top o' the mornin' and all that Blarney.

My friend Joanne got me the nicest mug with shamrocks on it. Who gets someone a gift for St. Patricks Day? A sweet, nice person, that's who.

I may have to watch a little Michael Flatley tonight. Not Lord of the Dance, because it's a bit much with him tossing himself around the stage in all those warrior costumes, but Riverdance would be nice.

And for dinner? I am making a very irish dish... Lasagna.

I am proud to say that last night I got out my Bag of Important Papers (you know, the one in my room that I shove each and every piece of mail I get into, mostly without opening them because I just don't want to know how much we owe Mastercard or Union Gas.) and spread the lot out onto my bed and ORGANIZED them. Mon Dieu! Army turns over a new leaf!

I am just so utterly disgusted with myself that I can never find anything. I call the lady to activate my new bank card and she says, "can I have your card number please" and i say, "oh, you need that? Let me rip around the house like I have an army of red ants in my underwear and destroy legions of carefully piled up junk piles to try and retrieve that for ya." And I still couldn't find it.

So I had to hang up with her even though it took me fifteen minutes of hold please and press 1 for english and press 193 for inquiries about your long lost dead uncle and hold again and Thank you for holding! You are such a compliant little sucker and we appreciate how docile and meek you are sitting there with the phone in your hand for five years!

I had to hang up and find the bank card that had just been mailed to me like the day before. I found it, and resolved (like I do at least once a week) that THINGS ARE GOING TO CHANGE AROUND HERE STARTING RIGHT. NOW.

So. I did some filing and found a lot of neat things out like that our house insurance policy will no longer be in effect after the 30th of this month because I forgot to send them a cheque. Neat-O. If anyone was thinking of trying out firecrackers or cap guns, do it at least 100 feet from my house, please.

I will improve. I will. (Now I sound like Tracy Abbot when she was competing with Lauren Fenimore for Danny Romalotti way back on the Y&R in the eighties, remember she was working out and she lost all the weight and they had the pool party and she looked like a million bucks and Danny was all, "Tracy! You look fantastic!" and Lauren was scowling in the background. Geez did I love that show.)

I will though. Hey, I was VALEDICTORIAN of my eighth grade class. That has to count for something.

Alright. I said I wouldn't do 50 things but I bet you could pick out at least 29 from this rambling nonsense anyways.

Ciao.

I mean, "Erin Go Braless!"

A.

50 Things about me

1. I need a pedicure. Well, I want a pedicure.
2. My neck and shoulders are stiff from 'the hill accident'.
3. I had tea and oatmeal with too much brown sugar for breakfast.
4. My middle name is Eileen.
5. My daughter is heading to the bathroom to play in the toilet. BRB.

6. I had my appendix out when I was 16.
7. My last time trick or treating was when I was 24. Seriously.
8. Confrontation gives me a stomachache.
9. Singing in church makes me feel like a million bucks, whether I am off key or not.
10. One time I stole 20 dollars off someone's desk.
11. I have no wisdom teeth. And only a little bit of actual wisdom.
12. I love to make my friends laugh on the phone.
13. I have an older sister, an older brother and a younger sister.
14. My bedroom is only clean for the first ten minutes after I clean it.
15. I would pay someone to clean my house but it is never organized enough for someone to come and clean it.
16. I get depressed at how disorganized I am.
17. I am going to jump on the bandwagon and get highlights this summer. I think.
18. I went to all girls Catholic high school.
19. I loved my high school.
20. First kiss was grade seven in a closet with Jeremy Hanrahan. It was kind of crummy.
21. I just got an email. BRB.

22. When my husband comes home from work at the day's end, I still get this little fluttery feeling in my stomach.
23. Until I was about fourteen, I was going to be a nun.
24. And no, I didn't lose my virginity at fourteen. I just didn't want to be a nun anymore.
25. I can crochet and cross stitch but who on earth has the time.
26. I sell stuff on ebay.
27. I used to be terrified of tarantulas. I thought they were climbing up my bed posts every night.
28. When I was a kid, I used to rock in my bed, up on my knees, hanging on to the headboard. I used to tie my bed to the radiator with a scarf or it would rock across the room.
29. I also used to eat spoons and spoons of brown sugar all the time. Zinc deficiency anyone?
30. I dream about flying, or at least hovering, all the time.
31. I am a generally positive person by nature.
32. I failed grade 12 math and the next time I took it I passed with a 50.
33. I could have done way more with school. I mean, I could have done way more school. Or something.
34. I am slightly knock-kneed.
35. When my kids are asleep and I go into their rooms and look at them, I get overwhelmed with how much I feel about them.
36. I love carbohydrates. In all forms.
37. I hate fad diets. I wish we would all stop talking about them and just eat already.
38. Last time i weighed myself I was 123 pounds. In my twenties, I weighed 110 pounds and I honestly thought my ass was so enormous it couldn't fit through a door.
39. When I am with good friends, I feel strong and happy.
40. I talk too much.
41. I love details. I loved it yesterday when my neighbor was talking to my other neighbor outside, and he reached down to the lawn and picked up a piece of old paper, and folded it up and put it in his back pocket, all the while talking.
42. I really should be getting ready to go out.
43. I always have a beverage on the go. And a book or two on the go.
44. I wish someone would tell me my perfume smells good on me. I used to wear Red Door and got tons of compliments on it, but since then I have never found a scent that anyone would care to comment on.
45. My thirty-fifth birthday is coming up May 11.
46. I am ambivalent about it...I think.
47. I love Hickory Sticks. One of my favourite things to do when I was a kid was get a bag of Hickory Sticks, a book and a big blanket, and wrap myself up like a samosa and sit on the porch when it was raining and read and munch my Hickory Sticks. My dad once told me I looked like 'an old fishwife' out there.
48. I had two miscarriages in 1999.
49. I wish I had a diamond engagement ring. I just have a wedding band.
50. I am outta here.

A.

Mommy hurts herself.




Okay. See the nice family going out tobagganing after Daddy gets home from work.

Nice nice family. Nice night. Stars out.

Kids have fun. Oldest kid flying down hill on his super fast toboggan that looks like a surfboard. "Whoo Hoo!" says oldest kid.

Mommy sees oldest kid having fun! Mommy gets happy. Nice family out for evening on snowy hill.

Mommy says, "Let me try!" and jumps on toboggan/surfboard/deathtrap.

Daddy says, "What are you doing, mommy?"

"I'm outta here!" Says mommy, and jumps belly first onto toboggan/surfboard/deathtrap/body destroyer.

MOMMY GOES FAST. MOMMY FLIES DOWN HILL.

Mommy gets scared. At bottom of hill is a big patch of grass and hump. Mommy wants to avoid going over the hump. So Mommy TURNS THE TOBOGGAN at the last second before patch of grass.

At full speed, Mommy SMACKS into grass and because there is no more nice, slippery snow, Mommy's body slams into grass bump sideways and comes to abrupt and painful STOP.

Daddy yelps in horror from top of hill. Daddy would never do anything so stupid as he is a cautious and careful German person. Littler kids cry as they watch Mommy laying at bottom of hill, not moving. Oldest kid worries but also is kind of happy that he will soon be getting his deathtrap back.

Daddy calls to Mommy. But Mommy can't talk because her whole body is in shock from the impact. Wind has been knocked out of her. She tries to yell so he can hear her. All she gets out is, "unh."

Daddy comes down hill to see if Mommy is still alive. Mommy feels like how someone might feel right after a semi serious car crash, like, "Will I ever walk again? Is this the beginning of the end? Is there internal bleeding? Why am I such an idiot? What underwear do I have on?"

Mommy manages to get her breath back. Feels okay to move a bit. Daddy reaches halfway down hill and she gets up, stumbling around, trying to get her breath normal.

"Man," Daddy says, "Aim. What was that? Why did you think you could do that?"

Mommy scowls at cautious German Daddy. "Because Sam was doing it and it looked easy."

Daddy laughs a bit. "Did you forget you were 35?"

Mommy doesn't laugh. "Thirty four. And no. I just turned too late."

"Are you alright?" Daddy asks.

"Yep." Mommy says, and limps back up the hill, checking her ribs for breaks. "I am just FINE".


Age, my friends, makes a real difference on the hill. I don't care what anybody says.

Now I am off to find the A535.

A.

March Break Day One.

It is 9:24 am. So far I have timed Monty out in his room three times. Once for screaming at the top of his lungs for not being able to have a Rice Krispie square for breakfast, once for pulling Lucy back and forth at the top of the stairs by her shirt collar, and once for fighting with Sam.

Sam has had two meltdowns, actually one is happening right now! It's fun! I told him he wasn't to go on my computer. He went on my computer. I said, "Get off of my computer". He said, "I am just going to go downstairs and go on the other computer." I said, "NO, you are not. You are not going on the computer until you have practised violin."

And he said, as he is wont to do these days, "Yes, I AM." And he went downstairs and turned that baby on and started drawing a shamrock in Microsoft Paint.

With a deadly calm I went downstairs and said, "Get off that computer. And now you have directly disobeyed me, so you will not be playing any PS2 today." I turned around and went back upstairs.

Release the emotional floodgates. He screams like someone has just stuck a knitting needle in his eye. "MOMMY, NO! PLEEASE! I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!"

I go back upstairs, sit at the computer with Lucy on my lap. He follows me on his hands and knees, wailing like a siren. And he is still there. I can't see him but from the sounds echoing off the hallway walls I think he must be laying on his back, hammering his heels into the floor. "GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE! PLEASE!"

Nope. It's the first day of MB and we are setting some ground rules here. Now please, help me to be STRONG. I must hold my position. I must not give in, no matter how the fluid around my eyes is vibrating with the sounds of discord coming from the hall.

It is 10:04. Aiyaaa, Monty has just climbed up on the counter to get himself a handful of chocolate chips. Gotta go pry those out of his hand. The noise will get very loud in here. So loud, you may even be able to hear it out there. So I will sign off.

Later!

A.

Random Thoughts from a woman awake too late with RLS.

Blogging is like working out. You shouldn't let yourself go too many days without doing it. Cause then you get lazy. And you think, ah well, what's the point now I am letting myself go anyways........

Speaking of working out.... Nah. Not going there. I am in the PFAGMBNGAA club. (Paying For a Gym Membership But Not Going At All Club.) I keep thinking I will go and then this crazy little thing called Life gets in the way.

Just doing my part to keep the economy going, aren't i? I mean, most gyms couldn't operate unless they had a certain percentage of people that paid but never went. We all have to do something.

Had a splendid night last. GOT AWAY. For those of you parents who will immediately get an angry red jealousy rash that I got away, let me tell you, it was a long time coming. Since my lady luck has been born we have gotten away for only one other night without kids and that was last June.

We had fun, went to Cambridge with Lisa and Bruce and went out to the Country bar that Lisa works at and saw a good band (even though we are not ultra familiar with the country music). Then we stayed at the Best Western in Cambridge. Ahh, the sleep was good let me tell you. Sleep is the new sex when you've been parents for a while. Jay's work called the cell phone at 7:30 am and then we blacked out until 11 am. It is AMAZING how you can focus on sleeping when there is noone beside your bed poking a finger into your eye and saying, "ITS THEMORNING TIME, MOMMY GET ME MIIIILLLKKKK!" It really is a good thing we aren't on a farm. Because I know there would be many times I would just tell Monty to go milk the cow himself and he would and it would probably be unsanitary.

So good night. And then we still had some free time till my sister brought home Lucy, so we went for lunch at Romano's on Upper James. YUM. Again with the antipasto, I swear I should have been born in an olive grove in Italy. And they make their own bread there and let me tell you the squishiness and deliciousness of that bread is something to bore your friends about.

I am not sure what is up with me and olives. I hate them for my first thirty years, then I tolerate them because Jay likes them on pizza and I don't despise black olives. Then about three weeks ago I have this green olive epiphany. I eat a couple and the saltiness and tanginess thrills me to bits of pimento and now I can NOT eat enough green olives. Seriously last week I ate a jar and a half. Sleep and olives are the new sex.

Alright well, I better go sleep now if my legs will have it. Gotta get up for church in the mornin' you know. And it's Sunday! A great day for green olives.

A.

PS. Hey Ang, this was for you.

Flowers in the Attic



This is where I put 'em if they are gettin me hectic.

Nahh. This is THE FORT. The space under the bed in Sammy's room and behind the dresser. When the kids are getting along, they spend an hour or two in here. Sam makes up some sort of 'club' and they work on 'papers for the club'. First it was a Spiderman club and they had little membership cards and put up pictures of Spidey and brought in spidey paraphenalia (sp). Another time it was 'Lucy Land' and they brought in pics of Lucy and all her favorite things. It has also been Sonic the Hedgehog club and Switchfoot club. And they bring the little cd player in there and play whatever theme song applies.

Love it. Well, Lucy sometimes is kept in there a little too long for her 20 month attention span (see pic) and almost always there is a small eruption of feelings over magic markers or someone sitting on someone else's leg. But over all, I am an advocate of the fort. Hey, three kids in one place being relatively quiet is pretty much as good as it gets.

And FYI, Lucy was just a little past her expiry date here, and didn't want me to take pictures but wanted "Yeeuwccee BubbA!" (lucy bubba)

A.

Anniversary



Tomorrow it will be five years since my friend Heather died.

You should have known her. She was great. We met on the first day of grade nine, in Mr. Doan's geography class. I had impetigo scabs on my face and she acted like she didn't even see them.


This is a pic from our 1984 yearbook, taken in those first few weeks of grade nine. I am the one with the v-neck and bad perm and Heather is in front of me, wearing her mom's Liz Claiborne jacket.

At 28, she was diagnosed with Ewing's sarcoma, which is a bone and connective tissue cancer. She fought it for a year and a half. When she died her three kids were 3, 6, and 8. And she had been married to her sweet husband for about nine years.

When she was going through chemotherapy, I wrote her a poem and sent it to her.

Heather

I had never even heard of a fondue party.
We were fourteen, and hapless,
And ate our lunches outside even when it got cold.
Our white knees would be purple, teeth chattering
Around barbecue ringolos, talking about everything,
Nothing, everything.

You were what I wanted to be.
Tall.
Blonde.
Worldly.
You had been to Europe.
You knew how to insert big words right into conversations.
You wore your mother's clothes with ease.

Your eyes, your big blue frightened eyes, when that car ran into you in front of Cloverdale variety, and you didn't want them to cut your new school socks.
We were two in a group. But I always considered you mine.

Where you live is always beautiful.
You make it so.
With a collage of pictures, with folds of fabric,
With that plaster hand you made holding balloons.

Your real hand I held as we leapt down the West Fifth stairs one warm summer night.
Did our feet even touch the ground? I can't remember.

Your hands are magic. I still see them create.

When you wrote that essay about how we are all different and special, how every baby calf has it's own unique hooves. How God never makes mistakes.
When you put on perfect make up,
And after, when you danced.
Your hands, holding out bouquets of red red roses to us on your wedding day. And your hands, smoothing your new husband's jacket just before a picture.
When you buttoned up Kaz's teddy bear jacket (the one you made), and then touched his cheek.

Once, too long ago,
We were out on a walk and Marja was digging into the mud with her little hand. I thought for a moment of her new outfit and how you might want to keep it clean.
You just smiled at her and said to me, rubbing your thumb against your fingers- "I love the spring because you can feel how the ground is getting soft again."

I speak of you often, to others.
I admire your handling of your life.

Although we drift in and out of each other's lives,
When we're apart I always miss you fondly.
When we're together I feel fortunate.
And either way, I am always grateful.

She called me as soon as she got the poem (by mail, because she was really sick at the time and they didn't want anyone bringing germs around) and said, "I love my poem! I cried! And then I gave it to Roman and he cried! And then I gave it to my mom and she read the part about her clothes and said 'What's this?'!"
Ah, Heather. Not sure of whether she would make it until Christmas that year, but still bringing light into the lives around her.

Aw, man, now I'm crying. I miss that gal. I wish she could have met Monty and Lucy. I wish I could call her and tell her that she taught me more than anyone what it is to be a good mom, a good wife, a good person, without ever preaching a word. By just living her life in her strong, sweet way.

A.

Divine Snackeroo.



This is what my food will look like in heaven. I will sit down at the table and there will be unlimited olives and baby bocconcini cheeses.

Starting from 12 oclock at the darling white baby boc's, we go clockwise to Denningers turkey keilbasa, then marinated artichoke hearts and olives, which are very biblical! There is a babybel in there too for style and color. Then we have some marinated mushrooms, some razor thin slices of proscuitto ham, and some short spears of cantaloupe. Finishing off this delightful plate is some Emmenthal swiss cheese. And to the right of the plate is a single glass of Sawmill Creek Reisling 2002.

I tell ya. It don't get any better for me.

Happy Saturday to all.

A.

Took my MIL to see Million Dollar Baby last night.

Mon Dieu, that movie was something. I can see why Hilary won. She really is brilliant. The boxing scenes were intense and the camera work was all about shadows, which made sense because this movie TAKES YOUR HEART AND SQUASHES IT INTO A BOX LIKE A BONSAI KITTY.

Ouch. Without spoiling it. If you see it. Bring kleenex. And some antidepressants. And a sun lamp. And some chocolate.

It was really good. Great, even. And can I say that Clint Eastwood moves like a young man and almost looks good in his cargo pants and polo shirt? And Morgan Freeman of course my Easy Reader never disappoints.

My only complaint is that Hilary's hair could have been pinned back a little better. But it was probably a costume direction, to have it flying about and coltish and wild. So don't pay attention to me. I just have a thing with long hair getting in the way of a movie.

Alright, well, Sam must be taken at gunpoint to have a bath now, and my luca is waking up, and my cup of tea is empty, so I will go.

Happy Friday!

A.

Swan Lake solo preparation.



Note the concentration in the eyes. She is serious about her art.

A.

Somebody oughtta do a PhD on this....

Ebay bidding and buying trends as a North American culture study.

Case in point: I have two items up for auction right now. One is a silk handkerchief from Finland commemorating the 1940 Olympics. These olympics were cancelled because of WWII. So it is rare to find any memorabilia from this time. It is a beautiful hand painted handkerchief, with the date 1940 and Helsinki and the olympic rings on it.

The other item is an 18 inch long Talking Rex the dinosaur from Toy Story. Used, but in good condition.

There is still time left in both auctions, but as of five minutes ago, the piece of history that is the silk handkerchief was going for $9.99 USD.

Rex? $79.00 USD.

It is fascinating, no?

A.