Someone else is pretending to be me!

Easter is done! It was fun, busy and crazy. We did the dinner this year (for 14) and it was a ton of prep but it all worked out. The Easter bunny came through big time and all little people were pleased. Chloe spent most of the time wandering around with her Easter basket on her head but hey – whatever makes you happy!

I keep looking outside waiting for spring and so forth but no such luck. This has been the longest winter ever, dare I say the winter of my discontent? I think we all have had enough of indoors, colds, flu’s etc. Bring on the warm weather and the park and going out after dinner to enjoy the outdoors.

The craziness of the Beijing Olympics is setting in and I am positive there will be shenanigans regarding Tibet. The athletes are so young and will have some strong ideals (which is a great thing) that I predict some competitors flashing the Tibetan flag or doing some other kinds of unrest. Way to go IOC! I never felt comfortable with their choice of Beijing – plus I was sour-grapey about Toronto being passed over. Damn you with your stupid comments Mel Lastman!

I don’t understand awarding China with such an honour after all of its human rights violations. It boggles the mind. Let’s see how it all unfolds – but just remember my prediction. The world is watching.

On to something totally unrelated. Yesterday I discovered that my identity was stolen. No I didn’t wake up and forget who I was – not that kind of identity being stolen. I received two credit cards for two electronic stores that I never applied for. I called and discovered that on March 17th someone got $5000 of credit on each card and maxed them out. I spent the entire morning yesterday on the phone with the stores, three credit bureaus, my bank and the Police. The officer came to my work right away and did some calling around. Turns out the thief (yes thief you rat bastard!) had my name, address, date of birth, SIN NUMBER (!) and a false driver’s license. In the credit card applications it said they worked for The City of Toronto. I am totally pissed. More so I am hurt. I know this person doesn’t know me from Adam but I still feel like someone hates me and is trying to do me harm. It creeps me out. I can’t figure how someone got my SIN number but I suppose there are tons of ways to find it. Just this past January I had a new credit card intercepted before it arrived in the mail and someone in Quebec made four thousand dollars of purchases on it and this wasn’t even activated. I think this might all be related. Lordy!

Well this whole blog seems like a litany of complaints doesn’t it? But I’m not really like that. I’m generally a sunny happy person and if I just went on and on about how much I love my husband and children your eyes would glaze over. BUT (begging your pardon) I must say that Chloe after her bath tonight was toddling around in her rabbit hoody towel with her name on the back and I kid you not people, the sweetness was so crazy that it would make your teeth ache.

Well this is a bit disjointed so I’ll leave it for now but I will leave you this thought – parenting is much easier if you have batteries.

Dame Edna, Pregnancy and more K.D.!

Hello again Possums! This is my second post in the same day. Yes, second! Take that. I am dare I say prolific? No I guess not with just two crappy little posts but still it’s better than my average.

I had a weird experience today. I was messing around on youtube at lunch today and did a search for Dame Edna, whom I adore. Guess who the interview was with that she was doing? K. D. Lang. That’s right folks, two K. D. Lang incidents on the same day! It’s sort of like a pregnancy experience when you notice a ton of pregnant women. Okay maybe it’s nothing like that but still – a huge coincidence.

You MUST watch this youtube video. Run; don’t walk, to see this one. I LOVE HER. Dame Edna I mean.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxyuVs0SK9s

Also I’m a bit distressed with Chloe’s pronunciation of certain words lately. Please for the love of God don’t ask her to say fork. Because she will say a certain four letter word that begins with the letter f. You know what I mean. Not terribly Christian of her is it? Because she repeats it like four times. Then again I have a nephew who would look at an oversized clock at Chapters and he would yell, “Big cock! Big Cock!” My sister was mortified and would say loudly, “Yes, dear, Big Clock, Big Clock!

Parental Victory in Richmond Gardens! Hallelujah!

Hello Possums! Is anyone else here tired of winter? Please make a show of hands. Thank you, I thought so.

So yes, victory in the sleep in battle of 2008. It took only 3 semi-hellacious mornings to break our darling Chloe of the early waking. Why didn’t we do this earlier? It just goes to show you that children’s habits can be changed with a wee bit of intestinal fortitude.
Her record was 9:10 on Saturday and I know it had a lot to do with the time change but still, going from 4:30 to 8:10? I’ll take it! Today was good as she got up at 7:00. Can I hear a hallelujah?

Speaking of hallelujah – I must say my favourite song of all time is Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. I especially like the version by K.D. Lang. Just a note to friends, I would like the instrumental version of this played at my funeral. Please remind my husband. Don’t worry I don’t plan on checking out until I’m 86 at least.

Here’s the K.D. Lang version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JlXV19TykLY

Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played, and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do ya?

It goes like this

The fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Awesome.


Last night Henry came wandering into our room at 2:00 am. My husband is currently in Orlando so I just told Henry to hop in. He would not STOP talking.

Henry: why are you sleeping on daddy’s side of the bed?
Me: Because I set the alarm on his clock and don’t want to wake you in the morning.
Henry: ohhh okay. Uuummm Mommy?
Me: yes Henry
Henry: what’s an alarm?

This went on and on until I told him if he didn’t stop that he had to go back to his own bed. Then he had to pee. Then he needed a drink. Then he knocked my glasses off of the night table. Then he had to have his head on my pillow with me because the other one was too far. Then he kicked me in the crotch. Twice. (Ouch I know) Then he was really starting to annoy me. Then he goes and says something adorable so I can no longer be mad at him. “Mommy, you’re the best Mama in the world. Let’s do some kissing!”

War Declared in Richmond Gardens

Just a quick update. I’m working on a longer entry but have been very busy. I know this is a running theme but dear god my daughter was up at 4:22 am and there was no way she was going back down. Every morning I hear the thud, thud, thud of her little feet running across her bedroom. Then she starts banging on the door yelling, MAMA! MAMA! MUMMMMMEEEEE! MOM! She does it with this tone of urgency that roughly translates into, “For the love of God people I am stuck here in the room of death and must be released immediately! I MUST. NOW!”

If I try to calm her and lie down with her she starts screaming, “NO.NO.NO” much like Amy Winehouse. If I bring her into our bed she sits up immediately and starts smacking us about the head.

As you can see things are now dire. The gauntlet has been thrown and I am picking it up. I am declaring all out war against the early riser. Here’s the plan: My son and I will sleep downstairs so as not to be disturbed by the screaming that will occur tomorrow morning. Thomas will go into her room every ten minutes and lay her down and immediately leave the room. This will go on every ten minutes until 6 am. It’s gonna be ugly people. There will be crying, there will be incredible amounts of snot and tears involved. It’s been two years and it is doing us in.

If anyone has suggestions please feel free to let me know as this is quite the pits. Good thing she is so damn cute. That’s the rub.

Jimmy's Thirsty!

Over the weekend we bought Henry walkie talkies. He is very much into “spy” stuff lately and apparently this is a necessary accoutrement. It took a while to get him to figure out the whole – hold the button to talk, let go of the button to listen. It was actually quite frustrating. But now we are all good and he loves the walkie talkie. Unfortunately for Henry he developed a wicked fever the other day that reached 102 last night. As a result he had to stay home today but he seems to be on the mend. I would like to give you a taste of our walkie talkie conversation this evening:

Me: Hey Henry where are you?
Henry: I’m in the family room little lady. 10-4.
Me: How are you feeling?
Henry: Better but still sick little Mama.
Me: Do you think you are well enough to go to Michael’s for a playdate tomorrow?
Henry: Oh yes. We are going to play spies.
Me: Do you think you will be well enough to go to school tomorrow?

All of a sudden a total stranger who must have been listening in breaks into our conversation –

Stranger: Henry! Be very careful what you say!! If you say you aren’t well enough to go to school your mom will say you are not well enough to go to Michael’s!!

Henry: Um Mom?
Me: Yes?
Henry: I think I will be well enough to go to Michael’s and school tomorrow.
Stranger: atta boy.

A little later:

Me: Henry it’s bath time. I am going to run the tub now for you and Chloe.
Henry: I don’t wanna take a bath!
Me: I hear you but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.
Henry: But Mooooooooom. I don’t wanna take a bath.
Stranger: Henry, listen to your mom. Women like people to be clean. You can fight all you want over this one but you will have to take a bath.
Me: Thank you!
Stranger: All in a day’s work ma’am.


Last weekend I took the kids to an indoor play place. As we were getting ready to leave Henry was being a little whiney and started saying, “Henry’s thirsty. Henry needs a drink”. Now it drives me crazy when he starts with the baby talk and using the third person. So I said, “Who’s thirsty? Is JIMMY thirsty too?” A dad in the cloakroom with us then piped up and said, “GEORGE is getting ANGRY!”

Don’t you love it when someone else is on your wavelength?

Can't Sleep............It's 3 a.m.

Well hello! Betcha thought I wasn’t ever going to write anything ever again. Had a rough couple of weeks with strep and pneumonia and have discovered other issues that have ravaged my immune system so I have to take off the next week and a half. No worries according to the dr. who promised to have me all fixed up. I did have an embarrassing incident on Monday though. I saw an Internal Medicine Specialist (who knew I thought all Dr.’s were internal medicine specialists) and he ordered about twelve vials of blood to be taken. No problem I still had the bruise from the eight vials from the previous week. I am not squeamish in the least as I had regular allergy injections as a kid. So this particular,um, blood lab person (?) was really smooth at changing from vial to vial with no wiggling but something funny happened around vial eight. The floor seemed to be rising I was getting super lightheaded. She noticed and said “keep breathing, stay with me”. The last thing I heard her say was – “oh-oh”. Yes I fainted. What a ladylike thing to do. Hurry someone bring me my snuff! I guess I sort of slumped forward as I was sitting in a chair and she whipped out the needle but I sorta sprayed her labcoat with a spurt of blood. These things are always happening to me. If something embarrassing can happen then it will happen to me.

The ladie’s were very nice and got me water and finished taking the last number of vials and then off I went. BUT maybe I should have sat there for five minutes because as I was standing in the pharmacy I started to feel faint again with that whole floor whooshing feel. Thankfully a nice pharmacist noticed that I had grabbed onto a shelf for support and sort of led me to a chair while I apologized and explained my situation. God! I’m not feeling sorry for myself in the least but really, what next.

I’m sure you all have these types of stories. Like the time Henry and I were grocery shopping and I had a full grocery cart. He was small then and facing me as he sat in the cart. Well he coughed and then gagged and then puked all over himself and me including my coat, pants and boots. I had forgotten wet wipes that day too. Just some Kleenex wiping and I picked up Henry and marched out of that store trying to maintain my pride while walking past people who sort of looked at us aghast. The only kind glances I got was from other moms with that “oh I have so been there look”. I got in the car which now stank to high heaven and called Thomas as I was crying. Poor Thomas, he always gets these kinds of calls from me. Yes I cry when I get frustrated. I can’t help it. I also turn into a big needy suck. Thomas will listen to me for a bit and “tut, tut” and then help me get some perspective before making me laugh about it.

Any else have stuff like this happen?

Well it’s officially 3 am. I should try to sleep.

My Pretty Lotus

Well excellent news from the homefront. My evil Strep has had some “complications” and turned into pneumonia. I’m a mess folks. But really that’s nothing new. After the blood tests, urine tests, and chest x-ray, I am fully tested. Two days and I will be brand spanking new. In the meantime I’m feeling a wee bit sorry for myself. Tonight Thomas is out at Tennis and I’m alone with the kidlets (furiously typing while they are watching Diego – God Bless you me Amigo Diego. Tequila for you later!) Half an hour ago as I was entreating, okay more like begging Henry to finish his (damn – not out loud) dinner for the 700th hundred time, I saw his eyes widen in horror. I turned around to see his little sister Chloe dance in a pile of Shreddies. I kid you not. An entire box of Shreddies with all of its dusty detritus was unloaded in a neat pile in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Please conjure this scene: my ruddy faced, Irish looking stout little toddler with curly strawberry blonde hair, wearing an oriental-ish outfit with lotus flowers and satin pink edging was dancing with her arms thrown akimbo in the air. Her eyes were half closed and her belly and chin were thrown out in only the way a toddler could proffer them. She was stomping a slow Hora dance in the Shreddies and started to slowly rotate in circles to the music we had on in the kitchen. It was a CD of children’s songs and this particular one was from India. With the bong of the quick drums, and the whine of the sitar and the moaning of the singer repeating the melodic word “Abaaai – yah” she was locked in a heaven of senses. Of swaying music, of swirling body, of stomping and of feeling the Shreddies turn to Shreddie-dust beneath her fat dimpled feet. In my not totally unpleasant Dexamethorphan induced fog (from the fine makers of Benelin) I let her stomp out her moment probably longer than any sane mother would have. She was my pretty ninja, dancing her Hora in the dusts of ancient India just feeling a feeling. Feeling an exotic land of sun and colour and happily, unselfconsciously, being herself. I wish I could capture that moment forever.

I had to then remove her from the pile when the song ended and then the screaming began. To give her her due she still held her arms aloft above her curly head and started crying and screaming from being taken from her far off dream. Henry hightailed it to his room and immediately returned with his new ear mufflers bought for last week’s Monster Jam. He then started yelling above his sisters high pitched and rather fabulous scream, MAKE HER STOP! MAKE HER STOP! I started feeling that fine sheen of anxious parent sweat mixed with my whole lung infection induced light headedness and yelled, “STOP!” Chloe was silenced with her hands still above her head, Henry’s mouth was in an “O” shape and his eyes were opened wide. I then said very slowly and very carefully, “IF! You help me clean up this mess then you can both,,,,,,,,,,,,have,,,,,,,,,,,ICECREAM! Well, the dustpan was out in a second and hands were shoveling Shreddies into a garbage bag at a frantic pace. Within two minutes that whole four damn dollars worth of Shreddies was now in the garbage. A small bowl of Chocolate chip mint was proffered up for Henry. Another, smaller version, was given to Chloe. She is an expert spoon user at this early age and knows the best part of the ice cream. The liquidy stuff at the edges. Not warm, not cold, just right and flavourful. She kept a smooth rhythm of lifting spoon from bowl to mouth and she raised her free hand above her head and started waving it over her curls that were now pasted to her sweaty forehead. As she did she started humming that Indian song - “ Abaaaaaaaaii-yaaaah” And once again with her senses she was in another world. I hope she never forgets that.