Meg's house

2010-12-22T09:13:00.002-05:00

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all!

2010-11-21T21:37:00.004-05:00

I am currently drinking pink champagne because today is the fourth anniversary of my mastectomy and when I read the posts describing the initial diagnosis of breast cancer through to waking up from the mastectomy I can only think "HOW THE HELL DID I SURVIVE WITHOUT HAVING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN?!"

Breast cancer is bad enough but couple it with living in a rental house with small children while doing a major renovation on the house plus dealing with what became the contractor from hell and a husband who contracts pneumonia just when we have to move back into our house, which has NO kitchen and running water working one toilet, one shower and a sink in the basement, while starting a brand new job?

Well...like they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger!

But here is to four years and counting of good health!

2010-11-18T14:58:00.002-05:00

Nothing spoils a lovely glass of wine more than having a stumbling, bumbling, slurring, can't string 5 words together, eyes rolling so far back they become stuck, drunk over.

I guess that was a bit harsh but please, it was a really nice bottle opened to enjoy with a good friend (not the person described above).

Yes the issues with the old roommate continue and this times he's making life more interesting by including prescription medication with his beer guzzling.

Such sadness when you watch someone you care about throw their life away and you can't think of what else to do when they don't want to change.

2010-11-14T21:36:00.001-05:00

The unveiling.

2010-11-11T21:34:00.003-05:00

I think it's done!

The painting for the United Way auction and also the image for the Christmas cards sent out by our Canadian offices is finished!

And this time it was relatively painless.

I will photograph and post the unveiling this weekend.

2010-11-11T09:10:00.000-05:00

2010-11-07T18:08:00.003-05:00

I think I will miss you most of all. I love you. Until next year my darlings.
xoxox

2010-11-04T20:35:00.004-04:00

There is a fantastic retrospective at the ROM until January 2, 2011: El Anatsui: When I Last Wrote to You About Africa.

Definitely worth seeing, in fact one of the most inspiring and thoughtful shows I have seen in quite a long time. I have been back twice and plan on seeing it many times more (being down the street from my office and having a membership) before it leaves Toronto.

In fact I took Satchel yesterday after a painful "bring your surly 14 year old who knows more than everyone else in the world and deems most not worth talking to, to work!" experience. His initial reaction of "really Mom, do we really need to go to the museum?" quickly changed to awe as he walked around the installations and hanging works.

Here is a bit of a description pulled from the ROM site:

El Anatsui finds his inspiration in Ghanaian and Nigerian culture, plus global, local, and personal histories. His work ranges from large metallic tapestries and paintings to sculptures in wood, metal, and ceramic. When I Last Wrote to You... demonstrates the wide variety of materials favoured by Anatsui, such as mortars, discarded metal objects, vegetable graters, driftwood, ceramics and old printing plates. The exhibition allows visitors to chart the development of the artist's work over a 40-year period.

http://www.rom.on.ca/icc/events.php

And a couple of images to whet the appetite!

Akua's Surviving Children

2010-10-29T12:59:00.003-04:00

Halloween is my most favourite time of year!

The boys on their way to school, leaving trails of frightened, gasping people behind them (well Jakob anyway - Satchel's will be on the ground rolling with laughter)!

On a non-Hallween note, went to Beverley Hawksley's opening of her latest work last night at the Propeller Gallery, 984 Queen St. W.

Check it out if you have a chance!

I picked up one of her smaller pieces at her last show, love love love her work!
http://www.beverleyhawksley.com/

2010-10-27T16:27:00.004-04:00

Living with just boys is having to scrub the toilet with disinfectant wipes before my a** can go anywhere near it.

I apologize for the visual...I just really needed to say it, I'm losing my mind.

Also needing to be said: Really Toronto? Rob Ford?. But you know, I might embrace him if he actually got rid of all our stupid garbage bins that we are trying to either hide or turn into front yard sculptures.

But on the upside, it's insanely beautiful outside with sunshine, blue skies and a temperature of 19*! And where am I? Working away in a near window-less room on my computer. And I have Jakob in the next room to keep me company, providing the musical sounds of gunfire from whatever XBOX game he's playing.

2010-10-25T17:43:00.003-04:00

I did it again. I offered to do a painting to be used as the Christmas card for the Canadian practice and then donate said yet-to-even-be-started painting to the United Way auction.

What is WRONG with me, it's not like the pain of last year has subsided.

I have three weeks.

Groan.

2010-10-23T21:51:00.003-04:00

And the progress on the garage continues!

2010-10-17T14:35:00.002-04:00

This my father-in-law Camille. My 70 year old father-in-law looking mighty comfortable 16 feet in the air swinging a hammer. Paul comes from some mighty good genes!

2010-10-13T19:06:00.005-04:00

We have a little project on the go that I have been keeping from you.

And I feel through omission I have in a sense been unfaithful to you.

And I'm really sorry.

We are, and by we I mean Paul, building a garage in the back. Designed by Paul, plans drawn up by Paul, a really big trench dug out by Paul and now being framed by Paul (and his Dad!).

I'm missing a lot of pictures - no doubt on one of the many cameras floating around the house - but here are a few of the raising of the Ilford wall - with many, many friends helping. Where was I you wonder? Out, driving far away with my mother-in-law. After 19 years of marriage I KNOW when I need to disappear.

I will keep taking pictures and updating the blog with the progress and if the garage turns out to be half as beautiful as Paul's contemporary design, I will have to say that I have one pretty talented and darn cute husband!

2010-10-05T18:03:00.003-04:00

I suppose it's time to bring the tropical plants inside if the Christmas issue of House and Home has arrived.

2010-10-03T21:58:00.003-04:00

Today my little family participated in the CIBC Run for the Cure and I can't thank all my friends, family and colleagues enough for supporting me and helping me raise $2500!

It was a bit cold this morning and I must say, who designs the shirts? They are hideous. Even the survivor t-shirt was nicer and it's usually even more ghastly than the others! This makes me think I should spend the next couple of months coming up with t-shirt design ideas and just keep inundating them until they get the point and provide me with a free mortgage as a heart-felt thank you.

I also think that instead of having volunteers offering water on the sidelines, that perhaps cups of coffee would be a nice touch because my GOD it's cold and frankly a little early for a Sunday morning.

Here are a few pictures from our day - the kids were fantastic, Jakob barely complained and was impressed how easy it is to walk 5km. Not as impressed that he still had to go to a swim class afterward!

2010-09-29T21:27:00.002-04:00

So...yeah...I'm sorry.

I took a bit of a break and then an extended break and then a virtual maternity leave while I obsessed about the new addition to our home - Molly, my little girl. I love her. And yes, she's a kitten. Paul is adamant he will NOT go through a reversal to his vasectomy - I call this being selfish.

A quick update over the past two months:

1. I don't have cancer - at least they don't think the mass living in my left breast is anything to worry about but just in case will continue to monitor me very closely.

2. The boys are annoying.

2a. REALLY ANNOYING. And I don't think it's because I'm a girl, peri-menopausal and pms-ing complete with acne breakouts, I think it's because they are boys. I've taken to drinking wine and muttering obscenities under my breath and holding my kitten.

3. I've cut my hair really short and after throwing a vote out on facebook have dyed it red - and I must say, I quite love it! Not quite as rocking as the 70 year old I saw today while visiting hell, I mean No Frills (St. Clair & Alberta), who had bright red hair, studded motorcycle boots and was dressed entirely in black. She was awesome!

4. My kitten Molly, sorry boys, is my favourite and brings me great happiness but has pushed Hamish over the edge and he now spends all his time looking furtive and hissing.

5. I started running. It's killing me, I'm in disgusting shape ... more to follow on that happy note!

I just wanted to let you know I'm alive and well and will continue to update my blog more frequently then once every 3 months I PROMISE and until the next post - tomorrow - I will leave you with this little nugget: this morning while standing in the bathroom comparing the height of my children to my own (Satchel is just shy of my height - dammit, now must master wearing high heeled shoes constantly) I exclaimed how old I looked. Jakob quickly said "no you don't Mom, well maybe just under the eyes, you know those puffy parts? Maybe if you just put on more make-up."

Introducing Molly, also known as TROUBLE.

2010-07-27T20:04:00.002-04:00

This makes me feel like everything will be okay.

2010-07-26T12:21:00.003-04:00

My son has a girlfriend, as confessed to me multiple times while watching the season premier of Mad Men.

A bit of a digression regarding Mad Men: What happened to the baby? Did Sally hide baby Gene and with all the drinks flowing they haven't noticed yet? Or perhaps the baby is off playing with the drycleaning bags?

Because I was so focused on Mad Men, I'm a little sketchy on the details but I believe our one-sided conversation went something like this:

Mom, I was on the phone with my GIRLFRIEND. You know I have a GIRLFRIEND right? Anyway, what are the plans on Friday because I want to meet my GIRLFRIEND in the park. Because she's going away on the weekend and her birthday is on Saturday so I need to meet my GIRLFRIEND in the park after camp...

After the show ended, I was able to sit quietly and digest what was thrown my way. I came to the conclusion that I am not ready to have a dating teen and my only recourse is to keep him very busy for the rest of the summer.

But thank goodness for Mad Men because at least the show has given me excellent coping strategies: dress well, always have a cocktail in hand and one will survive.

2010-07-23T11:00:00.003-04:00

Jakob is a tortured soul...and through virtue of that, I am a tortured mother.

Quick side note: yesterday I was positive the gods were out to get me...but I survived. And as the saying goes: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger!

So why is Jakob so tortured?

One: Day camp. He hates it.
Two: Karate. He hates it - it's boring.
Three: Vegetables.
Four: Grapes.

I really don't get it. How can you hate grapes? They are little balls of sweetness - I described them as nature's candy to Jakob while he was making retching noises and spitting the chewed remains into the green bin.

Speaking of grapes - there is nothing nicer than a reasonably dry rose wine spritzer with the glass filled with sweet strawberries!

A little survival tip if you too are a tortured mother.

2010-07-22T10:57:00.010-04:00

I think my brain is in summer-mode. I might have to create a sign that says "brain gone fishin'" because every time I sit down to write, I'm paralyzed. words.can't.form. thoughts.stuck.

And yet it's not like stuff hasn't been happening.

For example: the first day of summer vacation, the boys are home in the house, THE TEENAGER (that in itself is worth a year of postings) has a friend over and I have promised to take them to buy a paintball gun after I get home from work. I'm not in the house 5 minutes when Arthur the cat, hearing my voice, comes out to me in obvious distress, strokes, falls over and within minutes has died. I'm crying, Jakob is hysterical, and Satchel is trying really hard not to cry in front of his friend as I stroke Arthur's body in those final few minutes to try to provide some comfort, let him know I'm with him.

I am back home, preparing to have the "cycle of life" conversation with my still crying 8-year old, a mere 30 minutes after arriving from work, having taken Arthur's still-warm body to the vet's, sobbing while trying to get the words out to let her know he had just died and had been perfectly fine in the morning. He started his day like any other: yelling at me to get up already, eating his breakfast, going out for his morning walk around the house, inside again to continue yelling at me, eat more food, drink water, go have a nap...

A side note, my vet is really kookie. And while good with animals, a little awkward with people. But being kind while dealing with my obvious distress, she says that she will have a paw print in clay made for us as a reminder of Arthur. Because surprisingly my suggestion of having Old Artie Carkeys stuffed and put on wheels with a voicebox was turned down.

I'm KIDDING.

Nearly two weeks later I get a call from the vet to come collect the pawprint (and pay my final bill). I'm presented with a box, and as I look at what I did not expect, I'm handed a bill - for cremation and an added $30 for this little nugget of beauty.

I stared at it, picked it up, turned it over, tried not to giggle, said "wow, that's really something - but I was under the impression it was a gift?" and then declined the pawprint (they had already sent me two beautiful paw prints on paper, I'm not that cold hearted - just frugal!), the girl expressed surprise that I was being charged since it is normally a gift and handed it back to me.

The house is so quiet now, Arthur was a very bold and flamboyant personality and with us for nearly as long as we owned the house. It feels very different without him.

I can only hope that this is not an omen for how the rest of the summer is going to turn out because day 1 did not exactly start out on a high note.

2010-07-13T09:31:00.008-04:00

You have probably guessed that Jakob feels very passionate about EVERYTHING. He has even been described, recently and not by me, as a tortured soul.

In an effort to convince Jakob that it is perfectly okay to be eight years old and to embrace and enjoy life as an eight year old, I have been letting him out of the basement err... taking him on trips around Toronto to spend quality time.

It has been interesting, and frankly I am surprised I'm not medicated. But having just typed that I really do enjoy one-on-one time with my boys, time that does not involve wrestling or x-box.

Here is a little photo diary of our first 10 days of summer:

Jakob deep in thought, pondering what he would like to do now that x-box has been removed from the equation. It was difficult, he broke a sweat.

Our first trip was to the ROM to see the baby dinosaur exhibit.

As we entered we were told that an extreme martial arts performance was about to begin in 5 minutes if we were interested. Interested - of course! Jakob was about to start karate camp so the timing could not be better. And they would be jumping and breaking things and wielding swords!

Jakob said "No. Sounds boring, not interested." Being the good mother that I am, I forced him.

Here's a shot of Jakob with an expert jumping over him and 5 other children about to break a board with his foot.

Then this past Sunday I decided to surprise him and take him to the top of the CN Tower, a trip he has obsessed about for nearly 2 years! We get to the top, he eyes the ice cream stand, he's now starving, and frankly he's bored. Ice cream would help.

I'm sure that Jakob is messing with me.

2010-06-30T15:40:00.001-04:00

Arthur
1992-2010

2010-06-30T12:44:00.004-04:00

End of school year happiness!

Note the fear in the eyes of the mother.

2010-06-29T11:36:00.004-04:00

Honestly, I swear there is a big black hole residing in the small space reserved for brain matter in the noggin of a teenager. Words leave my mouth, travel in through his ears and then get sucked back into the void so fast I'm reeling!

Stephen Hawking should put his theories on the possibility of extra terrestrial life forms aside and address the potential impact of all the black holes hanging out in front of my house right now. My fear is you get enough of them together, the entire universe as we know it could be jeopardized!

Yesterday's conversation with changing teen brain:

CTB: Mom, can I invite about 8 friends over to the house?

Me: Okay, let me think ... NO.

CTB: Why not?!

Me: Because I'm at work and I'm not having 8+ boys in the house unsupervised.

CTB: But we're just going to hang out at the front of the house or the back of the house.

This makes no sense to me.

Me: No.

CTB: Fine.

I call later to find a PARTY going on at 10:30 in the morning.

Me: How many kids are in the house?

CTB: Maybe 5.

Me: How many kids did I say could be in the house?

CTB: 5?

Me: No ZERO! Honestly, how did he manage to get 95% in math?

CTB: But I'm just feeding them.

The thought of feeding 5 13-14 year old boys has me faint on the keyboard. There will be no food left in the house. The door to the refrigerator will be be unhinged. If the big galoot is there, chances are catfood will be consumed and the fish will be gone.

So because I have spies on the street I later find out that there were 5 boys plus 3 girls, one wearing a flag. Thankfully the fish was fine.

And I will be encouraging a summer of paintball and xbox.

2010-06-26T13:22:00.002-04:00

I find it disconcerting when someone you know very casually makes it clear that SHE CAN'T STAND YOU and you just don't understand why. You're charming and exceptionally witty! And you have a great sense of style. Why wouldn't she love you? She should want you as her new BFF!

And then you go to your husband's office party and BOOM there she is. And because I can't help myself, and want to figure out what it is about me that she doesn't like so I can, you know, improve upon myself I gravitate towards her like a moth to the flame.

To be fair, I am an absolute delight at parties. In fact I have been described as the "life of the party" after I've had a few drinks in me so what is it that gives this woman the old "deer in the headlights" look whenever she spots me?

Also I'm a bit unsure of her myself. First she lives in the suburbs - I wonder if she reads this blog? probably not seeing as according to www.motherhoodinnyc.com I have pretty much annihilated the chance of anyone ever reading this blog again - and has broken another woman's bones while playing hockey.

But here is the story that confirms her true feelings for me:

At Paul's office Christmas party she took photos of everyone and very reluctantly took one of me. Fortunately for her it was THE WORST PHOTO EVER. I was laughing, talking, face distorted, wine glass being tossed around... and that special moment in time was captured. So she asks the old husband if he would like the photo included with all the other office photos, excluding of course the equally nasty one of herself which she will most promptly be deleting. Husband says that he better get my permission since it really isn't the most flattering.

He sends it to me, I pass out, come to, call plastic surgeon and book an appointment, then scream NO into the phone to Paul. Fortunately the woman who hates me (WWHM) is in his office with him.

He tells WWHM not to post it.

She says, oh (while giggling which I can hear) too late, I sent it by accident.

I asked Paul to ask WWHM if she ACCIDENTALLY sent her hideous photo to the entire office? Nope, deleted.

So where am I going with this, oh yes, what is the funniest way YOU would handle this situation?

2010-06-10T11:08:00.002-04:00

I must say that there really should be a warning stamped on Steig Larsson's books stating that once you begin reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, you will have no contact with the outside world until you finish the entire trilogy. Your children will go hungry, the cats will move out. And then you will have to don a black armband as you mourn Larsson's untimely death while plotting how to steal the laptop from his partner that contains partial scrips for Books 4 and 5.

But persistence for my attention did wear me down: work, children, husband and cats - not so much the snake - forced me to stop reading occasionally which is why, two weeks after my last post, I am finally updating the blog.

What I love about Larsson's books is that I just can't get enough of them - I sneak reading extra pages whenever I can, whether waking up early and laying in bed to finish another chapter, reading for an hour after going to bed even though I have to prop my eyelids open with toothpicks... I just can't put them down! I'm reminded of when I was a child and would wake up as the sun was rising so that I could grab my book.

And now Jakob is developing a love for reading!

Jakob is currently pouring through the Percy Jackson & the Olympians series and will sit on the porch with me most evenings. This balances out the pain in my heart from Satch's focus on paint balling and Ultimate-Fighting-something-or-other-Man-Hugs. Otherwise known as UFSOOMH.

Clever Jakob is using his newly found passion for reading to secure favourite son status in the house and has decided that Satch just doesn't want to read, he can't read. Nope. And not only that, he's obsessed with violent xbox games. But not Jakob, not since the xbox suffered the THE RED RING OF DEATH, in fact he hasn't missed playing xbox at all! Though yes, he did spend his allowances on an xbox game, even though he can't play the game because of the RED RING OF DEATH - he is totally NOT obsessed.

So the two happiest moments for me over the past two weeks were: FINDING CHEEZ-ITS AT WALMART! I knew my constant badgering of Kellogg's USA would pay off, now if they would only bring in the Cheddar Jack flavour. And secondly, THE RED RING OF DEATH! I have not woken to gun fire once! There has been a lot less whining and crying and general crankiness (including the husband) and a lot more joy (ME!)in my little house.

Mental note: must add Bill Gates to my Christmas Card list. Love you BG!

2010-05-27T11:29:00.002-04:00

Quick - GO HOME AND CHANGE!

And then I'll meet you on the patio.

2010-05-22T13:51:00.002-04:00

Good news: Blue the Fish is still alive! I know you have all been wondering with bated breath, but I'm not posting an image as proof so you will have to take my word on it.

In other news: Jakob washed the dishes, and the floor as a secondary bonus, and feels that with all the chores he has done, each dish representing one chore, he deserves TWO allowances. Bless his heart.

Finally I had my yearly MRI last night, this time at Princess Margaret Hospital. I bounce back and forth so much between Mt. Sinai and PMH that I no longer remember where I had my last mammogram or MRI because I have fused the two hospitals together.

But now I know the difference between a PMH MRI and a Mt Sinai MRI and I would have to say experiencing the two, I far prefer Mt Sinai.

Who would have thought there would be a difference, really. Big white tunnel, lots of noise, ear plugs, IV pumping dye through your veins, right?

But Mt Sinai is actually a more pleasant experience on the grand scale of things, and whereas I used to zone out and pretend I was on a beach (a loud beach in the throes of a tsunami - the noise representing the sounds of crashing waves) with a slight breeze blowing over my body, and I was feet first in the tunnel instead of headfirst so not quite as claustrophobic an experience, and the operator would talk to me to give me an idea how long each segment would last so I had an idea of when this beach moment would be over...

This time: head first, no talking, no breeze, and a different kind of futuristic knocking noise so I spent my time thinking "this is really fucking annoying" rather than "when is the cabana boy going to bring me my drink?".

At least it's over for another year and I meet with my oncologist Dr. McDreamy, I mean McCready, next month to discuss the results and my thoughts on having another mastectomy.

Didn't expect that did you! From fish to mastectomy in 8 easy paragraphs. Ha!

Here's to a fantastic long weekend!

2010-05-20T16:51:00.002-04:00

It is not my fault. The drama that is my 8 year old can only come from his father's side.

And it is this drama that makes me fantasize about cold frothy drinks on a patio, basking in the sun and warm temperatures where no one under 21 is allowed.

Jakob just said he wishes Holland didn't exist because that would make his homework much easier.

And I have said "stop with the complaining! small children in certain parts of the world are plucked from their homes, forbidden to go to school and are forced to move big rocks around all day!" Jakob of course focused on forbidden to go to school.

To backtrack, Jakob is working on his homework assignment. A few paragraphs to accompany a map he has drawn showing early settlers coming to Canada from Europe. There have been many tears and groans, as if he is constipated and has not seen the toilet in weeks.

The printing of the good copy is now causing him physical pain and he must lie down on the sofa for I'm not sure how long. And perhaps I should put a cartoon on for good measure. Things are looking bleak, he might not survive.

Now he has rolled off the sofa, across the filthy carpet and onto the wood floor. It is his strength and determination that will take him far in life, he will make it back to the kitchen to finish his homework. It's just going to take a while.

2010-05-11T11:32:00.002-04:00

My toast on Mother's Day while having dinner at a downtown pub with Paul & the children:

To me, for without me, you would not be here.

Jakob: "And to Daddy."

Me: "No, just to me. You can celebrate his contribution on Father's day."

It is not good to be subtle with children.

2010-05-09T20:38:00.005-04:00

Happy Mother's day to all the fantastic moms; for it truly is the hardest yet most wonderful role one could have and I wouldn't trade my life for anything - though to be honest the boys do look at all girl babies as a threat to their security, especially when I'm walking around with a large bag...

But all my love to the mothers that are closest to me, inspire me, and frankly READ MY BLOG!

So a toast to my wonderful girlfriends who are such amazing mothers: Kim, Heidi, Pat, Beth, Sam, Kathy, Jo & Lisa, Amanda, Lauraine, Brenda, Susan, Shirley (my sister who does NOT read my blog, nor does she understand Target), and all those I have not mentioned but adore non the less.

xoxox

Taken after seeing Ironman 2 this afternoon.

2010-05-07T13:47:00.006-04:00

There is nothing like an old picture being sent out of the blue (thank you Kim) to really make my day - it's like an early mother's day present!

But how did that turn into this? (Though still covered in chocolate after all these years.)

And it is amazing to me that this large person is even able to be squeezed, changing brain and all, into a small photograph. He deserves at minimum a New York Times Square billboard!

And yet I have barely aged a day in all that time.

I do so love my boys.

2010-05-03T09:04:00.004-04:00

This is a little bit unnerving - my bathroom scale seems to be reading on the heavy side and my clothes don't fit quite as comfortably as they did before my birthday weekend bash which turned into roughly 3 weeks of celebrating. Perhaps it's time to retire the poor old scale since it obviously doesn't work anymore and maybe not launder my clothes as often since the washer seems to be doing them in.

There - problem solved!

But how to stop the voice in my head screaming: "MOM, did you gain weight MOM?!"?

I know ... someone kindly left a Regal catalogue at my desk - because obviously my personality screams Regal!

If you have ever had the opportunity to leaf through one, it is amazing to me that a team of professional researchers could actually compile such a collection of wonderment. I liken the contents to viewing a series of tiny shrunken heads - both horrifying and yet strangely compelling.

For example doesn't everyone fantasize about having a resin statue of a french maid holding a roll of toilet paper? And for only $30 it can be yours! Not to worry, she is averting her eyes for she is also quite modest. And we've all struggled with crazy hair in the morning - do we sleep an extra 15 minutes and go to work looking like Medusa or do we shower and not turn the office to stone? Problem solved, mesh hair net, $5.98! And with summer approaching - we are all looking for the next good book to read and I just found a couple on page 42: Why are there NO cats in the BIBLE? ($15), very curious - was there a cat bias in olden times, did Noah forget to load them onto the ark? definitely questions to be answered, or Poems and Reading for Funerals and Memorials ($9.98) both fun and interesting - a good book for the beach no doubt and one that will scream "come sit by me, I'm a girl who's quirky and loves to have fun!".

Already the voice has been silenced.

2010-04-30T09:14:00.005-04:00

You don’t have to suffer to suffer to be a poet. Adolescence is enough suffering for anyone. — American poet John Ciardi, 1962

Especially for the parent.

Changing teen brain has taken to answering my questions and requests with "what the hell MOM!?"

I shake my head not really understanding why innocent requests such as "call me when you get to your friend's house" or "take your wrestling outside, you've already broken a lamp and ruined the carpet" or "stop beating up your brother" or even the casual "stop with the attitude - what is wrong with you?" always have to result in "what the hell MOM!?" Actually the response to "take your wrestling outside" also included "why are you so mean to me MOM?!" because the ground wouldn't be quite as soft as the aforemented ruined, expensive, felted-wool carpet from Pottery Barn that makes me want to weep as I mourn its lost beauty.

I can kind of understand why my mother isolated herself in her room reading fiction and eating chocolate from 1977 to 1986 because I kind of want to hide out at the neighbours, drink wine and read magazines (or hide out in my room and read the pile of books I'm desperate to get through).

But I won't. I will hopefully instead figure out how to successfully manage this new relationship - and mark off on the wall each day until he turns 18 - with the help of my friends (real and virtual), books, and perhaps this article:

http://www.walrusmagazine.com/articles/2006.11-science-the-teenage-brain/

and have a few skills and tricks in place before the 8 year old's transformation begins, because after all he's always been the more difficult one...god help me.

2010-04-28T16:07:00.011-04:00

Oh happy days - Fuzion Shiraz Rose is back on the shelves of the LCBO and it's still only $7.50!

Run, don't walk, to your nearest store and stock up!

Especially if you have a wedding planned for late July...

http://lcbo.com/lcbo-ear/lcbo/product/details.do?language=EN&itemNumber=122424

2010-04-27T19:48:00.004-04:00

I'm typing while in pain. Cursed cookies and cream ice cream! Why must you be so good? And especially after my ex-son's comments about my weight gain.

Better to balance it with beer and nachos. Oh ... did I just divulge my darkest of secrets?

Think GLEE.

I just finished my guitar lesson and plying the instructor with beer, organic because I feel very maternal towards him and do not want to stunt his growth further, and also so that he will consider me his favourite student. Because really, he is only 26 and are the 10 year olds going to offer him a drink? I would hope not!

We practiced Dear Prudence and to mix things up, a little Neil Young: Down by the River. And because I'm a sucker for punishment, and typing to the sounds of all the boys in my house (the lush is here too and no that is not self referencing THOMAS) playing war games on the xbox, I think I might help myself to another organic beer and think about life...while holding my stomach together...and counting the minutes until Glee starts.

2010-04-22T20:03:00.003-04:00

Ex-son: Mom, have you gained weight?

Me: Why yes I did. In fact I gained SIX POUNDS OVER MY BIRTHDAY WEEKEND living on cake and wine. Thank you for noticing, I love you, do I look like I've gained weight?

Ex-son: Yes but now you're even more cuddly!

He's a spinner, that 8 year old.

2010-04-09T16:04:00.003-04:00

Because our house is full of culture, my 8-year old is singing Prom Night Dumpster Baby from Family Guy and has just asked about the wire sticking from the baby's belly.

Being the loving and patient mother that I am, chock full of information, and one who takes great pleasure in shocking her children, I have just explained the workings of the umbilical cord, the placenta, transferring of nutrients from mother to baby while in utero, and what happens to the umbilical cord after the birth which finally results in the perfect belly button that most of us have.

I say most because I'm not part of that special demographic. I used to have a cute little navel that was capable of holding nearly a cup of water but no longer. Now it's just a scarred little frown but because I have not yet had the first glass of wine of the weekend, I will keep that story to myself.

Back to the umbilical cord story:

Jakob's reaction?

That's NASTY!

2010-04-07T15:10:00.003-04:00

Because two boys, 1 husband, 2 cats (one very old and who likes to follow me around the house, constantly yelling that I'm just not doing a good enough job and could I please just get it together!) and one snake is not enough fill every waking moment of my day, we have added a fish. A beautiful blue beta fish. Which in my constant state of delusion thought that it would be the easiest of all to take care of: a sprinkle of food and done.

But I was wrong. So wrong.

First I nearly kill it trying to transfer it from the plastic bag to the small bowl, and then nearly kill myself by having a heart attack as I scream at Paul to PICK IT UP, IT'S DYING (because even though I have no problem picking up frozen rat cubs the sight of the gasping fish puts me over the edge) and then he drops it TWICE on the counter before successfully getting it into the bowl.

And then we watch with Jakob in a near panic since it is his Easter present and he has already made me swear that we will not eat it some night for dinner.

Fine.

And finally it starts moving.

Encouraged I decide to feed it the four measly flakes according to instruction - seemingly they like to keep their fish thin - and as I gently tap the package, FWUMP, the bowl is now filled with what looks like brownish bits of paper.

Jakob panics again: IT'S TOO MUCH FOOD, THE FISH IS GOING TO DIE! GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!

I would like to pretend that this blog is full of exaggeration...but it's not really, Jakob is that dramatic almost every waking moment of the day. I blame his dad.

Now once home from work, my new routine is to sneak upstairs to see if this new little addition to our family is still alive. So far so good and we are now on Day 4 - but the stress is killing me! How am I supposed to keep it alive for 2 more years?

For fun and lack of space, and because Jakob insists on having it in his room, I have the fishbowl beside the snake tank which is making for a very enthusiastic Ember who is now plotting her escape and seldom hides under her log.

2010-04-04T22:10:00.001-04:00

I know that Easter is all about the resurrection but is there anyway that can apply to the lamp in my living room the boys just smashed?

Please?

2010-03-30T19:56:00.000-04:00

Oh dear, the pictures are starting to filter in.

2010-03-29T16:14:00.004-04:00

More important than regaling you with stories of my boys' shortcomings in 80s appreciation, I must write that today would have been my Dad's 85 birthday and that unfortunately he barely lived to see 55.

We all miss him.

2010-03-29T12:39:00.013-04:00

An example of the 80s posters that have scarred my poor children for life.
"Makes me want to vomit" indeed!

2010-03-27T16:50:00.002-04:00

Final preparations are being made for my big party tonight and there will be incriminating pictures posted over the next few days without a doubt!

But to whet your appetite - I have created 5 small posters which include 80s shots of a few people in the neighbourhood, and of course Paul and myself, with a bunch of the more visually interesting bands from that era - can't make a poster without including the hair from Flock of Seagulls!

The kids are both fascinated and horrified by this.

Changing brain teenager: That's you Mom? OMG that's totally embarrassing! I can't believe you looked like that! What? My snappy fashion sense? I look awesome!

8 year old: Mom, what did you do to your hair?! And your eyes - you look Egyptian! And then he said: I THINK I'M GOING TO VOMIT.

Yes, he said vomit.

But I understand - they are too young to truly appreciate the wondrous-ness of the 80s with all the styles of music and the clothing and the hair and make-up. I will forgive the nausea.

2010-03-26T22:16:00.003-04:00

I love how this app for my BRAND NEW iPHONE makes everything look fantastic - even me! Even me with Ember the Snake and the necklace that I broke 5 minutes after this photo was taken. And might I add without a heavy amount of photoshop which is going to provide me with the opportunity to do many more valuable things with my time like...paint! And spend quality time with my children!

I also finished both my courses last week and because there is nothing like an over-achieving mature student who finds a kindred spirit in Monica from Friends, I managed to maintain my A average while greatly intimidating the under 25 demographic.

Now I can breath. And though I have vowed to take a break from courses at least until September, am already leafing through the course catalogue taking in ideas. For example, a wine specialist course which just screams me. I mean I like wine...I would say I even love wine. The smell, the anticipation of the first taste, taking that first sip and mulling over in your mind all of its characteristics - OMG, this course would be perfect! And what if I could get a job as a wine specialist! This would at least guarantee me the best table in the finest of restaurants because I'm pretty sure the hostess would be in awe of my credentials - and the $20 in my hand.

But first I must go to bed and sleep and between dreams remind myself of all the stories I need to share with you.

I'm throwing my massive spring party tomorrow night (80s music, Andy Warhol factory decor and French Martinis - three things that really don't go together but combined make for one smashing party!) and it is imperative I get my beauty sleep because unfortunately the app doesn't help me in real life and I can't exactly photoshop myself for the party - oh if only I could...

2010-03-19T22:11:00.004-04:00

Day 5 and I have officially made it through March break without even the hint of a nervous breakdown!

And I would like to boast that not once did I suggest to Paul that we sell the children to pay for the rebuilding of the garage or offer to let them move in with their New Brunswick grandparents so that they can explore their inner country child as suggested by a certain mother-in-law...and then have that offer rescinded when she saw how excited I became at the prospect of a small break from parenthood.

Warning, a digression follows:

What would it be like to not have children in the house for longer than a school day? Paul and I could spend adult time together without interruption! I wouldn't have to provide a reasonably proper dinner by 6:30pm only to have it rejected because it's considered disgusting. I could drink hot coffee and read the newspaper on Saturday morning. Go see a film on a whim without dropping $40 for babysitting and having one or two calls buzz through during a pivotal scene. And dare I write it this? I truly don't want to offend anyone's sensibility by creating even the slightest of visual and if I do, I am so sorry: not needing pajamas at night! Because there would only be Paul, myself and old Arthur the cat in our bed!

Well I guess I won't know now that the mother-in-law who offered up that dream has taken it back, stomped on it, chewed it up and spit it out all over the floor like Jesse James' marital vows.

Digression over, back to March break: I can only end this post by saying that Jakob said to me today "Mom, you're the best!" and my heart was full.

But then Satchel returned home from his 3 days away skiing and I just overheard Jakob say "Satchel, YOU'RE the best." Next he'll be saying Ember the snake is the best and then where do I stand?

I'm thinking steamed green vegetables for breakfast.

2010-03-18T22:40:00.004-04:00

My profile picture adequately reflects how I feel 4 days into March Break and after 2 days visiting my mother.

The high moment of the last few days would have to be Jakob pulling off his sock to show me the hole in his foot where we finally managed to destroy his plantar wart and create a space large enough to park a car.

Part of me feels that it would benefit you greatly, and by you I mean all my darling virtual internet friends, if I posted a picture but then I would have to put down my glass of wine and pull out my camera. And then I would have to play with the picture in photoshop to elevate said picture of the hole in Jakob's foot to pretty much a work of art and then how would I pour another glass of wine? And that would be wrong, so wrong. Because we are four days into March Break and I did just spend two days with my mother. And I know you would not want that to happen...so I won't.

Internet people, I love you, thank you for putting my emotional health ahead of your desire to see my son's disfigurement.

2010-03-11T16:39:00.006-05:00

This is just a musing as I count down the minutes until neighbourhood weekend cocktail hour - and of course I know it's only Thursday, but that's the kind of optimistic person I am! My weekend starts Thursday at 5pm with the unfortunate distraction of a number of work hours on Friday to contend with, but essentially...WEEKEND!

Sorry, I became distracted, the musing is that one of the things I enjoy doing, more a love/hate relationship really, is pouring through Craigslist looking for that perfect chair, coffee table, console table, etc., to claim for my own. But instead I find really crazy stuff that crosses the line into hideousness and the sellers want a fantastic amount of money for it, and it's always classified as "mid century modern" or "retro".

Sure, the stuff is old but since when did old and ugly constitute mid century modern?

I have always played with the idea of creating a category called Crazy Craigslist finds as a companion to my occasional postings of fabulous wine deals. I posted a really hideous couch with 2 chairs for the great price of $800, but then felt bad. Not for the people selling them but for you the reader. They were truly ugly, and modern did factor into the description...but they weren't funny. I need to find something that makes you groan and then laugh out loud (LOL in teenage vernacular). So I will continue the search and then post an example - to really whet your appetite!

Is this potentially something you would enjoy?

2010-03-10T19:19:00.002-05:00

I have finally surfaced after having been buried under the weight of assignments and exams and family...specifically the weight of my boys. A boy with frontal lobes that will not be firing for another 10 years, if we're lucky, and a boy who's hair is so curly that it seems to interfere with reasoning and hearing and understanding and also encourages a general dislike of good hygiene. Oh wait, non-firing frontal lobes also discourage cleanliness as I'm finding out.

I just had a thought that the writing geniuses behind a dummies guide to virtually everything under the sun would do well to write a book on managing a household of boys while staying sane and at the same time perfecting the recipe for the french martini.

Outside of drinking cocktails, I managed to escape the role of motherhood for one evening and went to an art show where I purchased a small painting by the Canadian artist Beverely Hawksley (http://www.beverleyhawksley.com) and also went to a fabulous bar on Queen St.W/Toronto called BarChef (http://www.barcheftoronto.com/) where I developed an addiction for their Vanilla Lite cocktail. Thank you Eve for expanding my little world!

But then it was back to reality and the pain of reading chapters on typography. Don't get me wrong - I love type! I would probably qualify as a type geek. But oh my god, the chapters are drier than my mother's blackened hamburger balls (and not blackened because of some fabulous Cajun seasoning, blackened because she would throw round balls of meat into a frying pan and cook them on high until they were black because at least that way she knew they would be cooked to some degree inside) in the 1970s when she went through her I hate cooking and frankly all of you phase. Actually it was just me that fell under that category. But that's a whole other thousand or so posts to devote to the special mother/daughter relationship we have and I'm kind of sorry I touched on it and peeked your curiosity. And I completely understand why my brother has been a vegetarian most of his life.

So where am I going with this post? I think to sum up: don't shape your hamburger patties to resemble golf balls and fry them up on high even if you are Tiger Woods. Your child will openly blog about it 30 years later.

2010-02-28T22:24:00.002-05:00

What a day!

First, so proud of our Canadian athletes.

Second: today is my honey's birthday and if anyone has any advice on how to get the #$@#*($&@#* ipod touch, his fabulous birthday present, to link the to the internet/wi-fi please let me know because all we get is "invalid argument" and I really want to ease my husband's crankiness. I will promise to love you forever!

But not as much as you babe, you're number 1! Happy birthday from your trophy bride!

And finally, perhaps most importantly, I was id'd at the beer store and if you have any idea of how old I am, you would understand how fantastic this is and how I can only love the person (and of course anyone who can help me with the aforementioned ipod issue and my husband - he's #1!) who asked me!

2010-02-26T17:47:00.003-05:00

My heart is being torn apart and stomped on, bits ingested by cat and then furballed out, as my 8 year old decides to call me mom instead of mommy.

I try to ignore him, pretending there is no such person called MOM in this house but it doesn't work. He just keeps saying Mom! Mom! MOM!! MOM!!!! until he's shrieking, the volume equivalent of doing 0-60 in under a second.

Then to humour me, as he is now the master of patronization, he finally concedes and says Mom-mie, with the "mie" part falling down and no way is it getting back up.

He reasons he is too old to say Mommy and he's sorry but I'm just going to have to get used to it.

But I don't want to get used to it - it sounds so harsh and foreign to my ears. I'm barely used to Satchel calling me Mom, though he does tend to slip up now and then. Thankfully he's not quite so militant and focused as the small one.

Oh well, time to introduce this little Mom caller to Mr. Litterbox.

2010-02-22T10:54:00.002-05:00

A lovely start to my day:

Stress Can Make You ‘Dumb’ & Fat!

My result from a work health survey we were asked (read: forced) to participate in.

I truly believe that Monday should be a kind and gentle day, one that begins with much needed latte after latte to help recover from the weekend, and then once the world is viewed as if on speed, moves kindly into an afternoon filled with frothy yummy cocktails to help slow the shaking.

Not a day filled with maternal failings and personal insults!

Am I wrong?

2010-02-22T10:27:00.000-05:00

I have failed as a mother.

I just walked my 13-year-old son through the steps to make toast.

2010-02-20T11:25:00.006-05:00

The evolution of the English language when you are thirteen and have hormones popping like Orville Redenbacher's is enough to take down the most staunch professor, but frankly, leave my words alone! I need them, I depend on them, and taking them away from me is pure evil and reeks of selfishness.

Changing brain and I were having a conversation which went something like this:

Mom, what's this made of? as he picks up a bowl from our counter.

Wood.

Mom, that sounds so wrong!

What? Why? It's made of wood.

Ha, you said it again!

Wood? I don't understand.

Laughing hysterically: Don't you know what wood means?

OH MY GOD, it's a product from trees that we use to build and create things with. Of course I know what wood is.

Laughing harder if that's possible: Mom, it means *****!

No it doesn't - WOULD (I threw this in deliberately, enjoying my new power) you stop already!

Ha ha ha ha! Now he's bent over, holding his stomach together.

It reminded me of when we had to strike all words that rhymed with grass because they contained A*S*S which would leave Jakob gasping for breath.

One enjoyable facet of the new English: taking advantage of 13 year old boys who speak in acronyms about 50% of the time. After a bit of friendly father and son bantering, Paul called Satch an L. O. S. E. R. and Satch said What's that? Laugh Out.....?

Paul said No, it means you're a LOSER!

2010-02-19T20:05:00.002-05:00

I was going to write about the insane dreams I've been having, how vivid and colourful and dramatic, in fact even better than Avatar! I've been spending my nights saving my children by killing monsters with poker hot steel rods, had a colleague take me for a ride in a 5-story airplane, an ex-colleague having eyeball transplants and sending me before, during and after shots, watching a movie with a dead sister who passed away too many years ago...

Then I thought, nope I'm going to write about today's hospital appointment and the decisions I have to make: do I lose one ovary, two ovaries, the whole kit & caboodle...can I have the surgery at the same time as a mastectomy or should I have two separate operations? And gene testing, let's get that done first and then talk to the one million doctors I have at my disposal to figure out what I need to do first.

But instead I'm going to write about having just returned from having pints with good friends at the Duke of York and who should be there? Why Daniel Craig! Yes, we drank with James Bond, Lord Asriel, guy from Layercake and oh yeah, naked guy from Tomb Raider! He signed an autograph for Jakob which proves that he's not just a really good actor but also a great guy because I can only love people who tolerate my children! And he peed with Satch! They shared bathroom time! And he even chatted with Satch!

Plus he has a great bottom while climbing the stairs because I was RIGHT BEHIND HIM! OBSERVING!

A fabulous end to a crazy day.

2010-02-12T16:21:00.008-05:00

Ahhh, the hormones are getting to me but I'm not sure if it's changing brain's or mine. He was very angry with me last night, feeling that I don't really listen to him.

Which to be fair is true.

But I have made a promise to try harder and as god is my witness and there is wine to consume, I will. But it's all so painful.

So this is how I get back at the children for forcing these promises upon me (and the 13 years of poor sleeping): I make Valentine's Day cards for them.

Jakob's were adorable Clone War cards complete with a chocolate heart attached to them and therefore boring and not worth posting.

Satchel's were brilliant if I do say so myself and only slightly soggy from the tears of laughter I shed while folding them in half. What 13 year old boy wouldn't want to hand these little beauties out? Frankly I'm surprised I'm not working for Hallmark.

click on photo to enlarge image

I made these specifically to hand out to girls. Satchel looked at the cards, flipped and read the cards, looked at me and said in a serious voice "now why do you think I would want to hand these out?"

I couldn't help myself, I started crying again.

2010-02-10T14:45:00.003-05:00

Once again, rather than work on my assignment which is due tonight, I am sitting here in the kitchen thinking loving thoughts of my children and drinking beer from a bottle because I just read that drinking beer reduces cholesterol - or something. Whatever.

Back to loving thoughts about my children.

Jakob has taken to showing up in our room every night because he "sleepwalks" and therefore has no idea what he's doing or how he ends up perpendicular in our bed. And, he says emphatically and also with triumph, it's not his fault because he has no control over what happens when he sleepwalks. Fortunately while sleepwalking he does come prepared, he brings his favourite blanket.

I am pretty much a fragile shell of a person because I haven't had a good night sleep in 13 years due to the wrath of god giving me two children who have never been good sleepers. Changing brain is now but only because he's a teenager and hard-wired to sleep for however long he can. So I'm pretty much beaten down and can't move myself in the middle of the night to force him back to his own room. Paul sleeps like a rock so he's of no use to me and will no doubt be phoning me as soon as he reads this line in protest.

So out of desperation I have placed a sleeping bag at the bottom of my bed and have told Jakob that he is under no condition to ever get into my bed again, or Satchel's, and instead if he does wander in must sleep in the sleeping bag. My thinking is he's going to find it so uncomfortable and unrewarding that he will eventually just stay in his own bed.

So far the success is that he hasn't climbed into our bed but has ended up on the floor every night - and this morning it was 5am by the time he crawled into the sleeping bag! Jakob does wake cheerfully every morning to proclaim that he has just had the best sleep ever, though he has no idea how he got there...with his pillow, blanket and now tiger.

Tomorrow: how I'm scarring my changing brain teenager for life by creating very special valentine's day cards to hand out to girls.

2010-02-07T17:34:00.005-05:00

There is nothing better than rummaging around in second-hand shops in small towns because not only do you find a Jean-Michel Basquiat (one of my absolute favourite artists and yes, I did make an embarrassing noise when I saw it hanging on the wall) poster mounted for $8! but also precious objects like this for $2:

Now who would ever want to get rid of something so absolutely fantastic?

"Oh I don't know, sane people?" says Paul, rolling his eyes.

I'm sorry, did you say something? Didn't hear you. I'm far too distracted fantasizing about how brilliant this will look on Valentine's Day covered in chocolates or truffles...for me.

2010-02-02T16:12:00.002-05:00

My son, finder of green snot in stew, says I'm totally pissing him off because I'm suggesting Grade 1 calibre sentences for him to complete his spelling with rather than Grade 3 calibre sentences as instructed by his teacher. And, he spits out venomously, my sentences don't even make sense they're so bad!

Not to mention I almost made him late for school this morning (he's on a roll now) because he couldn't find his coat and to NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! And will I just put his pencil, eraser, pencil sharpener and highlighter back in his knapsack?

Ummmm....NO.

Wait until he finds out we're having reheated stew for dinner tonight and this time there may just be a little extra something lurking in the broth.

And we shall call that retribution. Oh how I wish it was one of his spelling words.

2010-02-01T20:20:00.003-05:00

Oh my, where did the weekend go?

Saturday night was spent at a birthday party surrounded by the beautiful people: ballet dancers and models, and a certain male figure skater. Combine the weight of all other guests and compare that total to Paul's and my combined weight and I would NOT want to bet on which group had the higher number. Of course the upside was all the cake that sat untouched on the table: carrot cake, banana cake, fabulous little cupcakes. All untouched because you can't maintain the body weight of an 8 year old by eating that evil refined white stuff! And I am nothing if not altruistic, coupled with being a very good friend, so to be helpful we ate as much as we could to relieve some of the stress the lovely hosts would have faced if left to manage all that food and possibly have to eat it themselves. We did our damnedest, Paul and I, and ate solidly for 2 whole hours. And then we drove home happy.

Plus I was a little lightheaded having lost most of our food to the big galoot.

I did make a lovely beef stew with dumplings tonight for dinner which Jakob dug into hungrily...initially. Until he found something suspicious. Was it the beef? The potatoes? The dumplings? The carrots? What!?

No, it was green snot. No way could he take another bite.

Green snot? I didn't put green snot in the stew. That would be disgusting, plus I never thought of it. I dare you to find and show me green snot in the stew.

Jakob dug through, he thought he had success. It was a dumpling with broth. And it was brown. It wasn't green.

But seeing as I nearly poisoned him, perhaps I could make it up by providing him with ice cream?

2010-01-30T18:14:00.005-05:00

The weekend is not going as planned. I have inherited many people's children while noting one set of parents boasting happily that the stars have aligned and all their children are out of the house at various sleepovers. Oh yes, you would boast wouldn't you as I have had one of your children for over 24 hours and yet have NOT sold him for profit on ebay but instead fed him...a lot.

Where 13-year-old boys put their food I have no idea.

Oh wait, yes I do, in the bathroom which we may as well torch because there is no saving it now.

I have just kicked three of them out of our house, reminding them of their real parents' names, and adding that I refuse to feed them anything more. Well except for the just made banana/chocolate chip cupcakes because I've obviously lost my mind.

Satchel kindly walked two of his friends to McDonald's because clearing out our fridge didn't quite do it for them - there must have been a small space in their left foot crying out for nourishment - and had the audacity to phone and ask if he could bring the big galoot home for a sleepover. What? Are you insane? He's the one that scares me most! I'm amazed that Jakob didn't get mistaken for a snack and come to think of it, I haven't seen the cats in ages.

So no, he's not coming home with you. And if that wasn't clear...NO WAY IN HELL. Okay? Because I'm already trying to get creative with the crumbs on the floor to create a balanced meal for dinner and I'm sure he would fight me, and win, over the pizza crust I'm eyeing under the chair.

2010-01-29T20:11:00.006-05:00

First, I have to write I LOVE THAT IT'S THE WEEKEND! Thank god, one more day of work and I would have had to...well...do something not so very pleasant to someone other than myself. I mean really, what's the point of doing something to myself, that's not going to solve anything.

I realized it's been a while since I last did a wine post and since I haven't stopped drinking wine decided to blog in between glasses about a new cheap purchase made this afternoon and quickly shared with friends.

La Casona, 2007 Monastrell

They lured me in with their advertising: 89 points for $8.95.

A red that's bold with a complex nose of black cherries, violets, and casis notes, a little on the darker side. On the palate it's fresher and lighter than expected with moderate tannins and a bit more wood. Tastes like a more expensive wine with a good finish. Monastrell is the Spanish name for mourvedre, grown in the Rhone and Languedoc areas of France.

Definitely worth decanting the wine to give it a little boost and with my present from Santa this year, a handy dandy little creation that decants by the glass, a fabulous way to end the work week!

2010-01-27T14:38:00.003-05:00

Okay old man, get outside. Now. Stop yelling at me and get outside. Do your thing, take a walk, relieve yourself someplace. Go!

No, I did not mention food. Get outside.

And you thought I was talking to Paul.

2010-01-21T16:14:00.004-05:00

The evolution of my mood today:

Fine. Perfectly fine, it's a good day. No, wait, I'm irritated. Forget irritation, I am really angry. That's it, I'M FURIOUS. Wait, back to being irritated. Maybe I'll just have a chocolate chip cookie ... even though I hate chocolate chip cookies.

I think it makes sense for Paul to work late tonight, for his own protection.

Now irritated again because Jakob has a bum wiping emergency. Turns out he hates wiping his bum. Join the club I say, I hate wiping my bum too - but I do it anyway because IT'S MY BUM.

How can he not sense I'm in the throes of PMS and that he is walking a very dangerous line?

2010-01-18T21:24:00.002-05:00

Calcifications look benign but need to have follow-up.

Eek - in May I have an MRI, June a meeting with my oncologist and July another mammogram.

Now I'm no pansy, I've had more mammograms than I can count, but holy CRAP, what I went through today at the hospital was no ordinary mammogram! Even the technician, God bless her, said "Brace yourself, this one hurts. Now this next view, we have to hold you in place for one full minute before we take the image. Now breath. Breath."

I was squished so tight there was no room for oxygen. And then when she said "Now DON'T BREATH!" I sincerely thought I would pass out, held up by a machine and one very flat breast.

I'm not entirely comfortable though playing the waiting game so in June I'm going to bring up the mastectomy with my oncologist. I think it's the only thing that makes sense because I sincerely can't deal with all this stress!

2010-01-17T22:09:00.001-05:00

Off tomorrow morning for my follow-up mammogram and appointment with a specialist.

Wish me luck!

2010-01-15T18:41:00.002-05:00

One day closer to C day! And now I have a sore throat and a stomach ache. But I have self medicated myself, with wine of course. Quite a few glasses! I took the day off work because after yesterday I realized that today is not a good day to be surrounded by people in case they make me...TALK TO THEM. It would not have been good, there might have been tears. And I was raised to not cry in front of people.

2010-01-14T14:58:00.003-05:00

This count down to possible C day is not for the faint hearted. Every day that passes raises my anxiety level exponentially and all I keep thinking is SHIT, I just started two courses this week and I had better be able to finish them. And then...OF COURSE I decided to grow my hair because with my luck I'll lose it.

I can barely breath at work and avoid everyone so that I don't have to hold a conversation. And the amount of work that keeps coming my way is about to push me over the edge - sure it's good to remain busy but come on! Triple booking is not the answer to keeping me sane. I think tomorrow I had better stay home and hide from the world.

Wine also keeps popping into my head: how sweet it would be to have a glass right now, even if it is only 10:00 am and I'm at work. Actually I was probably thinking that Disaronno would be really sweet at 10:00 am. Now that it's 3pm, wine is a pretty good option - I have just poured myself my default white wine: Argento Pino Grigio.

2010-01-10T14:49:00.006-05:00

This is what I've been thinking about lately: what do you do when you're confronted with a serious illness and you have small children. Do you protect them and not tell them anything and hope against hope, or do you give them a slightly watered down understanding about how your life is about to change but in a way that provides hopefulness and security? For example, if you are diagnosed with breast cancer (as I will have confirmed on January 18) or if you have a massive heart attack and your chances for a long life are very slim, how do you manage your life and your illness with your kids?

The first time I was diagnosed with breast cancer in September of 2006, Satchel: 10 and Jakob: 4, I was terrified. There is nothing like hearing the word CANCER and then thinking HOLY SHIT I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I came home shell shocked and sat on the couch crying until I had to pick up the kids. Of course at that time we were in the middle of a massive home renovation and displaced, living in a house a few blocks from my neighbourhood, my friends and my support system.

This time I feel better prepared having been through it once but I'm also hoping that what I have again is DCIS and contained in the milk ducts. Also I have a plan: I'm going to remove my remaining breast because it is obviously NOT MY FRIEND. And having breastfed for three years, my thinking towards breasts in general has become quite utilitarian and I don't really need it anymore (I'm deliberately not thinking about the fun part of having breasts). And again, THEY ARE NOT MY FRIENDS AND SEEM TO HAVE A DEATH WISH.

So how to deal with the kids. Satchel knows more at 13 then I will tell Jakob at 8. Part of my reasoning behind telling them is so that they have a slight understanding of why Mommy might be acting the way she is with slightly less patience and perhaps a tad hysterical.

Going back to the first time, before my mastectomy, I remember tearfully writing them letters letting them know how proud I was of them and how much I loved them ... and these were really good bye letters because the idea of a 7-hour surgery freaked me out, just in case the worst happened. But after a 15-hour surgery (I have small veins and arteries and a lot of micro surgery was involved) I'm much more confident this time around.

When I was 13, my dad had a massive heart attack and was in and out of hospital for the next 2 1/2 years before he finally succumbed. I find it curious that my mom and/or dad never sat us down to explain the situation. Looking back I would have been much more understanding to his mood swings, his explosiveness, knowing that he faced death every day leaving 4 young kids at home. Even understanding how the medication he was on changed his personality would have been helpful. But I think my parents were of the generation where ignorance is bliss and frankly better for the kids. And perhaps he wasn't ready to speak of his mortality out loud. I'll never know. I try to put the pieces together by asking my two older brothers questions, since they are much older than I and had moved into an adult relationship with my dad. And now with my mom dementing, I can't even ask her, or frankly talk to her about my current situation.

So where I stand now is that Satch knows I have a follow-up on Monday the 18th to determine what my situation is but also that I will be fine and Jakob knows nothing until I actually have information to pass on. And once I know everything on the 18th, well, I'll figure the rest out then.

But any advice is welcome!

2010-01-07T20:44:00.003-05:00

Exhausting emotional day - the hospital called, need to go in again for more tests. Sigh.

Off to go cuddle with kids and watch Harry Potter AGAIN.

See, I do love them.

2010-01-05T21:07:00.002-05:00

Okay - I'm in slightly more positive spirits. I have made popcorn, put on the new Harry Potter movie and my boys and I are cuddling on the couch watching.

Plus I have opened a bottle of wine.

No wait...by walking away to write this tiny post, the big changing brain has tackled the smaller.

Sigh.

2010-01-05T18:58:00.003-05:00

This is just a musing really but I have a feeling that the majority of mommy bloggers are mothers of young children and/or babies...when the little darlings are still pretty much adorable all the time and don't spend every freaking moment of the day picking/fighting/wrestling/yelling/tormenting each other and breaking things in the house.

Writing at a time when the sweet little things are still at a stage where a slight raise of a voice or a timeout will curb unwanted behaviour and not when the mother is stuck yelling, physically separating, banning XBox for a month and wondering what else can be taken away because OH MY GOD THEY ARE NOT LISTENING AND THEY ARE NOT STOPPING AND I'M GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN!

Is it because I have only boys? Would girls act like this? Or would having one of each gender reduce the fighting? And because of the age different 13 vs. 8 I feel compelled to step in when it looks like Jakob is about to get pummeled AGAIN. I can't help myself because these are never fair fights!

And just when we thought we could see the light at the end of the tunnel, Satch is old enough to babysit and it's pretty much the only reason he earns an allowance, now we can't leave them alone together because ALL THEY DO IS PICK/FIGHT....see above.

So this is my advice to the bloggers of young children - when they hit a certain age, trade them in for a younger model - like you would a car perhaps or a computer or cellphone...

2010-01-04T16:05:00.002-05:00

I can't seem to shake off my post-holiday exhaustion. Even the mammogram at 8:00 this morning didn't squish me into awakeness! How am I supposed to type on a keyboard if I can't keep my eyes open?

Christmas was great, presents ripped open in less than 30 minutes. Behold the smug expression of "oh yeah Santa, I've been good...real good."

And also behold the only shot of me, face hidden by Jakob's head.

And finally - yes there is another picture of me, I lied earlier - my new baby! Isn't she fantastic! If only I could have an hour to myself to plug her into the amp and listen to her sing. Unfortunately every time I bring her out of her case, I am swarmed by in-laws or children. Fortunately the in-laws have finally returned home but I'm still trying to figure out what to do with the children.

Military school? The one that keeps children for a few years? Sure the haircuts are bad but they would return with excellent table manners.

2009-12-24T16:27:00.007-05:00

Christmas Eve stillness. Well only in pictures, both kids are so excited that they can only speak in REALLY LOUD VOICES. Which of course is pushing me over the edge since they're standing beside me while screaming.

The story behind the gingerbread creation is that I have this romantic notion of parenthood and every year I think how fabulous it will be to decorate a house (Santa's sleigh this year) with Jakob (Satch gave up a couple of years ago, he's far too sophisticated and mature for this nonsense now that he's a teenager). Of course what really happens is that the icing is CRAP, pushes me over the edge, won't stick to the gingerbread regardless of how long I knead it, and then Jakob eats more of the candies than land on the floor and on our creation, and finally walks away leaving the rest to me. I end up yelling and swearing at the icing, Jakob is traumatized, and another few dollars goes into the therapy fund.

Bambi decorated with all his finery.

Much love and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to everyone! xoxoxoxox

2009-12-23T21:41:00.001-05:00

I know I shouldn't write this but...

Oh my god I'm so excited!

I picked up my Christmas present: the most beautiful Fender Stratocaster guitar. I am so going to be a rockstar by the time I'm 50!

2009-12-18T20:18:00.004-05:00

When Jakob was born in 2001, I began the tradition of giving both kids a Christmas ornament as their first holiday present, timed with bringing home and decorating our Christmas tree. This year I surprised them with fabulous spiderwebs from our neighbourhood florist Fiori (http://www.fiorifloral.com/).

I hate to sound like I'm plotting their departure from home but my thinking is that when they do move out and settle into a place, they will have this fabulous collection of unique and mostly hand crafted ornaments that will create a wonderful nostalgia for every year celebrated as a family.

But, frankly, I will probably keep the ornaments here, forcing Satch & Jakob to return to the family home each year bringing bitter wives/girlfriends/boyfriends/partners/grandkids...because I can't imagine a Christmas without them.

And watching Satch play trombone as part of the jazz band at the school holiday concert proved to me how fast time is going by and that in a blink of an eye, they will be threatening to move out and start their lives.

So being the good mother, I have to start figuring out ways to escalate the guilt and plot to thwart their plans. And I've already started, I told Satch that when he does decide to move out, he should take Jakob with him. And he doesn't even have to rent a two bedroom apartment, a one bedroom will be fine seeing as they constantly bunk in with each other anyway. Save some money!

2009-12-17T21:10:00.004-05:00

Noooooooo! I've been hit with the stomach flu and there are only 8 DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS! And I have a crazy amount left to do! And I had a dinner party to go to tonight!

Deep breath.

Quick post and then I'm going to bed. I am already in my pajamas, just waiting to pour myself in between the sheets.

Jakob turned 8 yesterday and had a fabulous birthday...until bedtime when he realized that it would be another 12 months until his next birthday and then, well not much point to life now is there?

But during the happy time, when he found his birthday presents scattered throughout the house and opened them before breakfast, taking the coveted DSi to the pub for his favourite dinner of fish and chips, coming back to the requested home-made banana chocolate chip cupcakes in lieu of cake, and another present of more candy than a boy could imagine from Kim - for those 14 hours, life was pretty good!

2009-12-15T22:41:00.002-05:00

Monumental moments which make me take pause from all the stress that is my life right now.

Monumental moment number one: my baby is turning 8 tomorrow! Eight years old! How this is happening I do not understand. I remember his birth so vividly, like it was only moments ago. Granted Jakob did have a big head, hard to forget that moment in time! I still walk funny.

Monumental moment number two: we just returned home from watching my 13 year old play trombone in the jazz band at his Christmas concert. While watching Satch play I kept flashing to his 3 year old version who would sit at the bottom of the steps after daycare, rip off his socks and say "here are you toes Mommy!"

I haven't been posting lately because work has been crazy, home is crazy - though DUI guy did finally move out and I have the best mother-in-law EVER because he would still be here if she hadn't kicked his sorry butt over to his new apartment...turning it into a home rather than a drinking den to hide out in while returning here to sleep, eat and shower. And then there's that little holiday called Christmas and finally, returning to monumental moments, Jakob's birthday tomorrow. And that every single day there is some kind of event going on.

The introvert in me is finding this very difficult.

I also feel like crap; like there's a serious cold or flu bug just waiting to take me down. Right when I finish all the shopping and decorating of course.

One of the many things I do love about this time of year is pulling out all the Christmas ornaments - they feel like old friends that have been missed terribly. I have the tree decorated(and will photograph TOMORROW), Bambi the silver deer head has his Christmas baubles, Silver Buddha in the bathroom has his Santa's hat perched at a jaunty angle, peacock wreath is up in all its feathery glory, and our new addition to the family ... shiny silver Ikea tree in the kitchen.

All to be photographed ... Jakob included.

Now time to prepare the kitchen for tomorrow's birthday surprise and then bed!

2009-11-27T21:22:00.001-05:00

And the painting belongs to Beth - which makes me very happy!

2009-11-26T20:51:00.003-05:00

Tomorrow is the auction and here is the finished painting - not horribly different from the picture posted last week. A bit more paint, some black lines, a signature...but enough I say! Plus I had a deadline to meet so the file has been sent to the printer to make the Christmas cards and the painting is hidden away at work waiting to be unveiled tomorrow.

I'm going to miss it though, it's really grown on me. The photograph doesn't do it justice.

So here's hoping someone I LIKE buys it. Someone who's name starts with B.

I will post the results tomorrow!

2009-11-24T19:20:00.003-05:00

I think I have to move. Just me, and to NY. I found this real estate listing through motherhood in nyc and really it's perfect - I wouldn't even have to paint! And if the current owners leave me their furniture, even better. And I think mortgage would only be around $65,000 US per month. And all my girlfriends could come visit. And the children - they could too because I would devote the entire 4th floor to them. And of course Paul, Paul would love it!

http://www.sothebyshomes.com/nyc/sales/0134678#

The kids will just have to get used to part time living in NYC and when DUI guy realizes there are no more dinners being served around 6pm ... well, he'll just have to adjust too and acquaint himself to Mr. Microwave.

Back to reality, I think I just got my mother-in-law a little drunk. The love in the house is crazy - hugs, kisses, telling me I'm beautiful ... Wait until tomorrow morning when she wakes up with a hangover. She won't be feeling the love then.

2009-11-19T20:19:00.003-05:00

The beginnings of a painting - note the horror that is my painting station. Yes, that is a washing machine.

Still hoping against hope that it will be finished this weekend so I can photograph, design a card and send to printer by Tuesday.

2009-11-18T19:25:00.003-05:00

Paul's working late tonight, Yves (who is Yves you wonder? he's the other presence in our lives, living with us for the past two+ months that I have made a gigantic effort not to complain I mean WRITE about) is at his apartment puttering but will be returning home soon to eat, drink, sleep, drink, shower, drink more ... and because it's just me and the kids, I have made crap for dinner.

Why did I think making crap was such a good idea? Sure a dinner of nachos, mozza sticks slathered in a pasta sauce, fresh tomatoes with balsamic dressing and goat cheese (at least that was healthy and yummy!) sounds GREAT when you are tossing ideas out to the kids ... but after? Caulisse de tabarnaque (thank you father-in-law for teaching me to swear in French!) I feel bad.

I'd be a perfect candidate for a Pepto Bismol commercial and man, I'd be dialing right now if they really had a hotline: "You ate what? Really? And how old are you?"

Instead I think I will cuddle with Jakob and watch Van Helsing for the 30th time and avoid the stupid painting and ever approaching deadline ... and perhaps the glass of red wine I'm cradling will make me feel better.

2009-11-17T09:40:00.003-05:00

Holy crap - November 21 is the third anniversary of my mastectomy! Crikey time has flown by fast.

This also means it's time for my mammogram, for the onslaught of emails from Princess Margaret Hospital as they continue to fundraise for the The Gattuso Rapid Diagnostic Centre which reduces the time from initial testing to diagnosis to a mere 3 hours instead of days and/or weeks. Which for a woman facing the crushing diagnosis of breast cancer means more than I can adequately describe because she can begin planning immediately rather than live in fear, facing the unknown for however long it takes to get an appointment with her oncologist.

Now onto other November tribulations:

I did not take Jakob to the Santa Claus parade this year because I still have not recovered from our November 2007 excursion ... which is covered in detail if you would like to revisit the nightmare that was that afternoon. Not that he wanted to go this year anyway, I could barely get him dressed such was his mood. Or perhaps he was hesitant because he remembered yelling "Santa SUCKS!" as we waited for the sled - reducing the crowd to silence.

While reading through some old November posts I realized I have written virtually identical comments about volunteering to create a painting for my office Christmas card and then donate it to the United Way auction - and each comment was me vowing to never, ever, get sucked into doing this again. Yet here I am once again cursing, stressing, drinking wine (well not at this very moment, it is only 9:44 in the morning after all ... and I'm at work) trying to make this painting look at the very least ... okay.

I'm hoping that very soon I will hit the magical moment when everything comes together and the painting is finished within 30 minutes.

I am also hoping that the magical moment happens this Thursday around 8:00 pm.

But if it doesn't, my back-up plan is to look through older paintings and see if one is appropriate and can be sacrificed for the cause.

And then this year will be the VERY LAST TIME I put myself in this position.

I hope.

2009-11-12T15:36:00.005-05:00

I spent part of the afternoon at a fundraiser for MonkeyBiz hosted by Eat my Words (http://www.eatmywords.org) and had the privilege of hearing Stephen Lewis speak (http://www.stephenlewisfoundation.org). He is always so engaging and really makes you want to get involved and help create a better world.

But first let me introduce you to the newest member of our family:

According to Stephen Lewis, ~90% of the money raised through the sale of these beaded creations goes right into the bank account of the families the organization aims to help, with hundreds of homes having already been built for those devastated by aids. Which is incredible considering these are areas where there are traditionally no homes. We are also in a time where governments are pulling away from promises of financial assistance citing economic times and cut backs so organizations are more than ever dependent on fundraisers like the one I just returned home from.

But back to my little elephant. I was told that with some of the creatures, like mine, the form was inspired by a child's drawing - usually an interpretation of an animal they had never seen, only heard of - and then created by the artist. I am absolutely in love with it and that the purchase will help a person or family or community is like the icing on the most delicious cupcakes provided by Eat My Words.

Here's a little blurb captured from Eat My Words website:

The addition of MonkeyBiz to Eat My Words is a match made in the Southern African sunshine. A non-profit organization, MonkeyBiz commissions artists from the townships of Cape Town, skilled in the country’s ancient beading tradition. Each beaded artwork is an enchanting, one-of-a-kind piece signed by the artist, making them wonderful gifts which support a truly worthwhile cause. By supplying the richly coloured beads, MonkeyBiz creates employment and empowerment for some 450 disadvantaged women. Able to work out of their homes, the women can now provide for their families. The love child of ceramic artists, Barbara Jackson and Shirley Fintz, MonkeyBiz flows all profits back into the communities.

2009-11-11T20:31:00.004-05:00

Remembrance Day is a day when I step back and think about my Dad who served as an Ordinary Seaman in the Royal Canadian navy during WWII on board the frigate St. Therese. He was a scrawny teenager desperate to sign up, counting the days until he turned 18. So scrawny he almost wasn't accepted because the naval doctor considered him suffering from malnutrition and his parents had to prove that no, he was just skinny.

I feel great sadness in my heart because I would love to hear his stories but unfortunately he died in 1980 from heart disease. And as a young teenager I had no time or thought to ask him the questions that I would now give anything to hear the answers to.

Or to be able to tell him how proud I am to be his daughter.

2009-11-10T16:45:00.004-05:00

Jakob - topless and hunched over our double sink, sucking up water with a straw from one sink to blow into the other - just told me a joke:

Why did the M&M go to school?

So he could be a Smartie!

I'm kind of hoping this gives me 30 minutes.

Okay 2 minutes, I forgot his cheeks can hold half a swimming pool.

2009-11-09T18:51:00.002-05:00

It has been another month of over extending myself. You think I would learn, year after year, but no, not even close.

Once again I have a painting that I need to finish with a deadline of November 20th looming, and what is required is one that can be auctioned off with money being donated to the United Way and the image then turned into a Christmas card from our Toronto and Montreal offices.

Of course what I have right now is a barely touched canvas sitting on my dryer begging for attention. Because I meant to start this painting in September, not yesterday.

It's been such a crazy couple of months between taking the course from hell, well not the course, having the INSTRUCTOR from hell; a quick little freelance job; a brother-in-law living with us for 2 months while we desperately try to get his life in order (and though we now have his...stuff...into an apartment around the corner, his life is far from settled) and now the painting.

The bane-of-my-existence painting.

But at least I have an idea that I'm running with. Which has been very helpful as I repeatedly get asked how the painting is going. "Fine." What's it of, what does it look like? "It's a secret."

And the acceptance that this time next year, I'll be copying and pasting this post.

2009-11-04T12:51:00.004-05:00

The happy couple on Halloween night - post scarring the neighbourhood children for life...and pre pneumonia.

I promise that this will be my last Halloween post - for this year anyway.

2009-11-02T21:03:00.005-05:00

I am in mourning for Halloween so I'm posting a few more photos of our decorations and keep in mind, that I haven't even started photographing the kitchen!

A girl needs a place to hang her wings.

2009-11-01T20:28:00.003-05:00

What happened to this week? And how did I not take any Halloween pictures of my 13 year old bottle of mustard and my 7 year old black phantom? I'm hoping my neighbour sends me the picture of Paul and me because everyone needs to take a look at Paul with his eyes gouged out - I think it may be a contender for this year's Christmas card!

All I have to post is a poorly shot picture of me as a fallen angel in between parties and how even Hamish has embraced the event by requesting his food corner decorated.

2009-11-01T13:56:00.003-05:00

A few pictures from Jakob's birthday party with Tricky Ricky. That man had the kids hysterical! Jakob could barely breath when Tricky Ricky had him "accidentally" smack Ricky's backside with his wand.

When I look at profile pictures of myself, I kind of like to pretend I have Gwyneth Paltrow's nose. I don't, I have my father's, but it does make me feel better.

2009-10-28T21:35:00.004-04:00

Sorry posting has been light this week (light meaning NON EXISTENT - I know, I know, I really was trying to be good) but every once in a while a little job sneaks its way into my life and eats up all time not devoted to sleeping or updating my blog. Note that I didn't mention children, spending time with the children. Frankly my children are driving me insane at the moment ... all of them. Big ones included.

Once I can actually spend time downloading pictures I will post some of the photos from the KICK ASS early Halloween-themed birthday party I threw for Jakob on Sunday. Complete with magician (Tricky Ricky: http://www.handsonent.com/tricky-ricky), black dragon pinata, mini scavenger hunt and costume contest.

A bit of a digression, I just checked in on Jakob and his lava lamp looks exactly like a dead fetus in a bottle of formaldehyde. A bit freaky. Wish I had my camera handy.

Anyway, back to the party. It was perfect! There were enough activities that were timed so beautifully that as we finished the final event, the costume contest with awards handed out, the parents began to show up. And the day was spectacular so all 10 kids stayed outside THE ENTIRE TIME!

Fast forward a few hours, the phone rings and one of the kids at the party has lice. Fast forward to yesterday and now Jakob has lice. And as I'm treating him and going through his head carefully with an eagle eye, pulling out little lice corpses and nits, Arthur the old cat starts scratching and making a hideous racket - yes, he has fleas. In just over one hour I had one child and two cats treated, one child checked, pillows and blankets in the dryer on high and entire house sprayed.

Then, I drank. The end.

2009-10-23T16:16:00.003-04:00

Why, when you just want to get ready to meet friends, does your son sneak into the bathroom with his DS and poo for 30 minutes. With the door locked. The bathroom with the make-up bag, the hairbrush, the toothbrush, the extra strength muscle relaxers... everything that I need. Come on already! How he does he even stand the smell for that long?

Of course I should be happy he opted for the upstairs bathroom with the door closed when it wasn't that long ago he would sit in the powder room minus the door, treating it as his own personal little pooping room, while we all passed out near dead on the kitchen floor.

I can only hope he doesn't have his recharger and that the battery is getting low because otherwise, he could be in there until morning.

2009-10-22T16:24:00.001-04:00

I love this! Especially since I'm still recovering from being doored last week. How can we get these on all cars?!

2009-10-22T15:00:00.006-04:00

I do believe there will be some celebrating tonight!

I have my last class in Acrobat (not acrobatics sadly) and I have never had such a useless instructor (I'm loathe to call him a teacher because he's NOT) in all the years of schooling I have under my belt. He is a total waste of oxygen - though to be kind, he does have a nice speaking voice. Which you don't hear because he's actually talking about the program, instead because he's complaining to the girls in the back about how tired he is, or how he's only had a granoloa bar, or look, here's a few pictures of my twin brother's daughters.

Stop whining I want to scream, you do not know how many guys are currently living in my house! Do not mess with me!

My friend Ted (who's taking the course with me) and I are positive we must be on camera, that Ashton Kutcher will jump out at any moment and yell "PUNK'D!" And then I will grab whatever fashionable knitted hat he has on his head and let him run away. Because how can anyone really be this bad unless on purpose? And with each class, he just lets the bar fall lower so that you now trip on it as you enter the class.

But whatever, just give me my A, I'm one step closer to getting my certificate, and after a few glasses of wine I won't even remember your name.

But the object of this post wasn't solely to complain about useless waste of oxygen instructor guy - though that did feel good!

I thought that I would post a picture of my teenager! Do not be afraid, it's not a scratch and sniff blog, you can't smell him. You can admire how cute he is though!

And in this picture do not be confused, it is him, not an 80-year-old man hiding under heavy blankets. He was just tired from not sleeping virtually the entire weekend. Of course this is only minutes before his friends & family party is about to begin.

But in some ways, he does take after his father (also taken minutes before the guests arrive... and yes, that is a tv remote in one hand, beer in the other).

And finally a rare moment in my house when the kids are NOT fighting, calling each other horrible names, swearing, wrestling on the floor, Satch dragging Jakob by the foot out of his room...when they love - well, tolerate each other.

2009-10-20T17:48:00.003-04:00

I never realized what a poet the neighbourhood crazy man is.

While walking home with Satchel and Jakob, taking advantage of a gorgeous afternoon by stopping by Starbucks for their child's size hot chocolate with whip cream and lots of chocolate sprinkles, there he was in front of us, muttering away.

Sheer brilliance, this little number:

"God bless Adolph Hitler
For he invented lemonade
And the dish ran away with the spoon."

Then he noticed us behind him, following him down streets and around corners.

He yelled:

"Good looking wicked woman! Say that five times fast! Good looking wicked woman, good looking wicked woman..."

I said to the boys that I do believe I just received a back-handed compliment.

2009-10-19T18:33:00.003-04:00

Back during the Labour day weekend, which feels like a million days ago, my niece and I made our annual pilgrimage to Wilson NY where we threw ourselves into serious outlet mall shopping, wine drinking, magazine reading and finally TARGET! shopping.

As male farting contests (between the over 40 group) continue in my kitchen, I can only think back to those 3 pure days where no one asked me for anything except the salesclerk requesting a credit card, a waiter wanting my menu choice, or my niece asking if I would like a top up on my glass of wine...and I realize that one weekend a year is NOT enough to keep me sane. Not even close.

Time to start recruiting the girlfriends.

TARGET! withdrawal alone is making me shake!

While shopping that weekend, I found these three little guys at Pier One of all places. Tucked in with the stinky candles and over-the-top home decor, they really needed to be mine! With their mix of materials, bulging eyes, Tim Burton-esque design - they needed to join the bling and the peacocks that I have been decorating my living room light fixture with. And with Halloween coming up, they are perfect!

2009-10-18T19:11:00.004-04:00

I'm back my internet friends!

I would love to write that I spent my extended vacation somewhere fabulous - perhaps close to a small vineyard in the south of France where I would sit with the locals, make up french words and consume their wine while counting sunflowers and thinking about the direction this little blog should take.

But truth be told, I fell in love with Twitter. A sordid little love affair where all my thoughts were condensed into passages 140 characters or less. And it just felt so right...yet so wrong..and so dirty...and so gratifying! But it wasn't enough, though I will still keep tweeting, so I have returned home to where I belong and I'm sorry it took so long.

I also felt I had to take a break just to think about what I wanted to do with the blog. Do I end it? Do I still have stories to tell now that the renovation projects have dwindled until next year (the porch is still not finished but I do have a couple of photos of the progress). Are my stories even that interesting? Probably not, but frankly BETH scares me and now that I have an email instructing me to get my act together...well, it's time to begin the ride again.

But just to let you know, the 13 year old? With the changing brain? STILL INSANE. And we have a new addition to the family - Paul's oldest brother has been living with us for the past month. Oh yes, another beer drinking, xbox playing GUY which now makes me weep into the phone begging my neighbour to let me take refuge in her home from all the testosterone and farting and swearing and urinating into the toilets WITHOUT closing the door...and thankfully she has yet to say no.

I have to get back to my homework so I will end my first post in what feels like forever with a couple shots of the front porch.

And I promise, I will be back tomorrow!