It's here! My weekend away is here!

Jenifer should be picking me up in 10 minutes and then we are heading off to Target - I mean her in-law's cottage in Wilson NY. To throw a bit of culture into our Target-focused weekend, we are heading to the Albright Knox where large pools of saliva will form at my feet as I admire the fantastic abstract expressionist collection they boast.

And I will drink wine, read magazines and books, watch chick flicks and not once will I step in poo (like this evening, thank you Jakob) or have anyone ask anything of me.

I will update you if and when I return!

Now this is absolutely crazy - Satchel turns 11 on Wednesday, August 29.

Tomorrow.

11!

It all seems so wrong, but he is so fabulous.

He's the kind of kid who has always had us patting our own backs saying what great parents we are. Look how well he turned out.

Little did we realize, until Jakob entered our lives, we were really just lucky.

Here are a few pictures from Satchel's year.

It was soccer night for Jakob and I can't begin to describe fully the dread I feel when Tuesday rolls around. I pretend that soccer doesn't even exist up until I pick him up from daycare and then quietly announce we have to rush home, eat dinner, get ready and SUPPORT HIS TEAM!

Then it's as all thoughts, all words, have merged into one: ihatesocceri'mtheworstplayeri'mnotgettingatrophyihatesoccer IDON'TWANTTOGO!!!!!!!

It is so incredibly painful.

More painful even then yesterday when I surprised Jakob by picking him up very early in the afternoon from daycare to take both kids to the CNE. On the streetcar Jakey proceeds to yell "Stop talking in my ear Satchel, you're giving me a headache. This is the worst day EVER! I want a new family! Now you're doing it Mommy, you're giving me a headache. Stop talking! I'm serious, I want a new family!"

I hear you Jakob, sometimes - like when I innocently sit on a toilet seat soaked in boy pee - I think the very same thing.

The day did pick up for all of us at the fair where we had a fabulous time and Jakob decided to give us another shot.

We all leave a mark on the world. The Weekend to End Breast Cancer benefiting Princess Margaret Hospital can be yours. During one amazing weekend, September 7th - 9th, 2007, thousands of women and men will unite in Toronto to walk 60 kilometres in a bold display of courage and commitment. It’s a weekend of hope, as we honour lives lost, celebrate survivors, and help bring breast cancer care to those who so desperately need it. The money raised will benefit Princess Margaret Hospital, a leader in the fight against breast cancer. One in every nine Canadian women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. The Weekend to End Breast Cancer is your chance to make a difference; it’s your chance to leave a mark in the fight against breast cancer.

If you haven't had a chance to sponsor someone, I would ask you to support my brother Dave, who will be walking for me, with a group of London pink-helmeted firefighters.

They will walk the entire 60 kilometers in their uniform - so if you have a firefighter fetish, this might be of interest to you!

Dave can be sponsored online, with income tax receipts sent within 24 hours, at www.endcancer.ca, sponsor a participant, David Glover

or try this: http://www.endcancer.ca/site/TR?px=1952914&pg=personal&fr_id=1202

Thank you!

August 24, 1952

This fabulous guy entered the world.



Bob is the quintessential renaissance man, but I do have a hard time believing he's the grandfather of 4.

And, I must add, he is much older than me.

I have a crazy number of siblings.

We have ants.

I hate ALL bugs, especially when they are in my house and not contributing to the betterment of my life in any form. The kids have now turned ant squishing in to a high art form.

Thank you my children, another reason for having you.

While at work today, going through files, I found a video taken at the office children's Christmas party in 2001. So having a few moments to myself, I played it...and there was a 5-year-old Satchel climbing on to Santa's knee, smiling and nodding his head, accepting a gift of chocolates with a huge grin. And taking over the corner (majority of the screen) was my stomach - heavily pregnant with Jakob (he was born days later).

Fabulous.

I'm just going to focus on this and ignore all the retardation in my life:



Found on a clearance table at Pottery Barn for only $22.00!

It's so shiny and new...I'm feeling much better now.

Satchel's so cute. He has a new routine, really endearing - especially since he's going to turn 11 on the 29th.

He likes to pretend he's retarded. Yeah. Retarded. In grocery stores, coffee shops, at the rec centre where he goes to camp, at home...really sweet. He even yells out this weird noise like he's retarded. How can you not love that?

It's all I can do to not hit him.

Makes me long for the days of baby kitty - and I REALLY hated that phase.

God, I'm cranky today.

Swore at Satchel (quietly, I'm POSITIVE he didn't hear me - though the look on my face would have struck fear in to the hearts of men twice his size), wanted to push Paul really hard in to the island - enough to hurt him, possibly draw blood - even though he didn't do anything other then stand in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Only Jakob was spared from my wrath - and HE peed the bed forcing me to squeeze laundry in to my already rushed getting-ready-for-work schedule.

I don't know why I'm so irritable - it's not even that time of the month where thoughts of evil swirl freely.

It was hard to get out of bed this morning and then when biking in to work I felt as though I had missed the memo that said everyone was to have the day off and stay buried in bed, with head under pillows, surrounded by two cats.

Jakob had a hair cut this weekend and after describing what I wanted and measuring how much to cut off (long enough to keep the curls), I settled in to a chair and started reading my book. Suddenly the sound of a electric razor pulled me from my passage and I found him beginning to look like the poster child for a Hitler youth organization. My jumping out of the chair with such force that I banged my head on the metal dryer overhead startled the "stylist" enough to stop him. He said "don't worry, don't worry, I'll leave back long."

Nooo, because that would give Jakob the worst mullet since Billy Ray Cyrus haunted us all with his Achy Breaky Heart.

I should have known better than to do anything but stand militantly on guard, ready to grab scissors out of his hand at a moment's notice. Instead I was sucked in by the large flat screen TV playing the pixtar movie Cars and that Jakob had enthusiastically squeezed himself into the car-shape seat.

I had also chosen to completely ignore the the smell of weed.

Gorgeous family.

My worst laundry nightmare just happened - opening the lid on the washing machine, filled with whites, to find a bright red batman t-shirt staring back at me like an evil eye.


A secret message: Omthay, eckchay ouryay maileyay essagesmay.

August 17, 1955

Elizabeth Cecilia Glover was born.

She was beautiful, vivacious, smart and funny - gifts she passed on to her four wonderful children.

Liz enjoyed life and held the importance of family higher and closer to her heart than anyone I know and I have learned a great deal from my big sister.


Happy Birthday Liz - I miss you.

An honest man is made

As Thomas so eloquently writes:

After 11.5 years.
2 continents.
3 countries.
6 cities.
And countless conversations....
Susan and I have decided to end our room-mate like existence.......


When two people are at one
in their inmost hearts,
they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze.
And when two people understand each other
in their inmost hearts,
their words are sweet and strong,
like the fragrance of orchids.

Much happiness and love to Thomas and Susan tomorrow.

Happy Birthday Mom!



78 years young today.

Mom doesn't read my chocolate-free blog but I have already called and will propose that we all raise a glass of wine and voice a toast to a fabulous and health-complicated-free year.

Here's to you Mom!

Save me from the children. Save me from cursed Pokemon speak.

I am sitting here, still on vacation, pondering of the 2 vacation scenarios presented to me, which really would have been worse: going to Grand Falls, NB, spending time in Paul's mother's kitchen drinking from a box of wine while she rambles on about all the injustices she has experienced in her life, WHICH AMOUNTS TO A LOT, and the cancer that she has been anticipating for the past 18 years to affect her - and she's pretty certain it's just around the corner now; or sitting here in MY kitchen for nearly the entire 2 weeks drinking from a bottle of wine, mumbling incoherently about all the injustices that have taken place in my life, especially during our so-called vacation/family time, WHICH ALSO AMOUNTS TO A LOT. And in both situations being the sole parent taking care of the kids.

But while still thinking clearly, I would admit that the wine is better here...

Our family vacation has turned out to be a bit of a bust since Paul seems to have an ongoing vendetta with the tree stump in the back of our property. He's back out there as I type for another round with a chainsaw. It's become personal.

To try to make amends for the disappointing family vacation, I took the boys to Centre Island yesterday where we went on rides and then spent the last couple of hours in the splash pool. The kids had a fantastic time and Jakob bravely went on all the rides - which meant I got to go on all the rides!

I also took the kids to see Ratatouille, which I loved and Satchel loved but Jakob spent most of the time complaining of boredom between mouthfuls of popcorn. I came out of the movie promising myself to take cooking lessons but if nothing else the movie inspires an immense love and appreciation for food...and Paris.

Of course where did I eat last night after the Centreville experience? Pauper's Pub where I enjoyed a wonderful Brazilian salad and Voodoo chicken (delicious and exactly what I wanted but you do leave feeling like you have eaten a brick) and a couple of pints. Also explains why I passed out at 8pm.

Jakob has a friend over and just ran by with underwear on his head.

WE ARE ON VACATION!

And to start our vacation we spent a long weekend in the London area.

First driving in Saturday morning to go to Dave's son Nicholas's birthday party. Then to St. Thomas for dinner with Bill and him treating us to the Simpson's movie. (Bearable only because it was Satchel's #1 on his vacation wish list).

Back to Dave's place to spend the night and then off to the fire station where he works for a tour - view Dave looking quite handsome dressed in his official tour guide/firefighter duds.



Sunday we headed off to visit Kathy and Geoff, two of our favourite friends who live in Crediton where we had a fabulous time and met this little guy:



Who spent all his time posing for photos, happily taking a break from his life with the carney's.

We ate so well (thank you Kathy for always spoiling us!) and drank and laughed harder than I have in a long time and hung out at the beach...



We had an absolutely amazing weekend.