Now this is a real horror story...

I was doing some surfing - much as I'd love to say it involved a board and some waves it was actually just the internet kind - and I came across this site.

http://www.stepfordwife.com/

How in the hell have I never seen this before??? Please note the frightening similarities in appearance to my own site. I kept looking for the part where someone says hahahaha this is just a joke, we're just being super sarcastic, but I couldn't find it. As much as there is some extremely laughable content, the fact that it appears to be written by people who BELIEVE in it scares the crapola out of me. Really? Is it really real?
I feel nauseous.  The only thing I can take from this is the potential for future commentaries. Eek.

kindergarten

I am going back to kindergarten today. Really. Since I last posted (yes it's been a while, but I have been busy) I have taken more steps to fully embrace my current role as a full time stay at home mom/housewife. Rather than be totally sucked into the world of daytime television, bonbons, mindless housework hours, and late afternoon cocktails, I have carefully loaded my schedule so that my days are now structured enough to hopefully keep me out of trouble, keep my ass from getting too big, and keep my from becoming a full time closet mommy's little helper alcoholic. In other words, busy enough not to be bored. I have started doing before and after school care for 3 other little girls from our neighborhood, which in itself isn't terribly challenging, but does force to drag my butt out of bed every day with more urgency than I have when it's just my own family needing me up and around. Also keeps me from indulging in cocktail hour until later on, as I tell my husband and whoever else might be around that I am "working" and will wait till later for that glass of wine. Do I sound like a raging hard core drinker? Really I'm not. Honestly, it's pretty much my only vice, unless you count obsessive reading as a vice. My husband does....anyway. Then in addition to my new child care responsibilities, I felt the need to fill the yawing chasm of time between the morning school bell and the 3 o'clock bell with something other than just grocery shopping, cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry. So I applied and was hired to be the new noon hour supervisor for our school's kindergarten classes. Today is my first day. I am invited to attend their pot luck lunch, and meet the kids and parents for the first time. Then tomorrow I jump in for real, and every day Monday to Friday after that, for one hour each day. Again, I figure it will force me to structure my other big housewifely plans around my lunch time commitment, and possibly help motivate me to be more constructive with my time. Plus I think it will be frigging hilarious to spend lunchtime with the kindergarten kids every day. And as a bonus, I actually get paid to do this. So woohoo for me. I have to go make a whole bunch of sandwiches to take to the pot luck lunch today, so signing off for now.

Genderless Baby

Holy cow, so have you heard about the couple in Toronto who have decided not to tell anyone (other than the baby's siblings and some close family) what the gender of their youngest child is? The baby's name is Storm and the parents don't want to impose gender related constrictions on their kids, but rather allow to them to develop as long as they can without the imposition of gender stereotypes. Hmmmm. Anyway, they have really pissed a whole lot of people off. But honestly, what is the big deal? They have just gone about it in a more public, more purposeful way than most parents. As anyone who has ever been a parent can pretty much tell you, it is absolutely fascinating to watch your babies develop. And I have always found one of THE most fascinating aspects of kids development is how they seem to instinctively gravitate to certain toys that are gender specific. I myself am not what I would consider a girly girl, and was a real tomboy as a kid. So when I found myself at home with three little girls of my own, I did not shower them with dolls, or dress them in ribbons and bows. I did not paint their rooms pink. In fact, if it had not been for grandparents and aunties, there may not ever have been a dollie of any kind in the house. What I'm saying is that my kids had plenty of non gender specific toys to play with, shows to watch, books to read and so on. And yet what did they all love in the end? The so called girl toys. It was like some kind of karmic payback for me - I used to torture my sister's Barbies in all sorts of nasty and creative ways, and now I had to learn how to put dresses and shoes on them, without the aid of hot glue or staples. I watched my girls pick up baby dolls and rock them, and feed them bottles before they could even walk. This is not to say that only girls are capable of such nurturing acts. I am married to a man who has endless patience with his daughters, changed a million diapers, and played dolls with them whenever requested. But Barbie was not the only thing the girls played with. They loved to play in the dirt, pick up worms, and chase a ball. But despite being pretty well rounded, they were most definitely female in their souls. What does that mean? Should we all encourage a genderless world and just let the chips fall where they may, let our children "choose" their disposition? Because in the end, they are either boys or girls. Penis, or vagina. I don't think what the parents of baby Storm are doing is so awful really, or so different from what many of us parents out there have already done. It's like forcing someone who is left handed to write with their right hand, which is what we used to do. Now, we watch to see which hand our child chooses, and then let them go with it. Granted, choosing your own gender "disposition", as I seem to be calling it, certainly could have much more complicated future ramifications for your child than being a lefty vs. a righty in a mostly righty world. But then isn't it our job as parents to help to guide our children, help them make decisions for themselves, and do what we can to support them in becoming good people who can eventually go out and contribute positively to society and lead happy fulfilled lives?
Anyway. Ultimately I believe that regardless of parental intervention most kids will go their own way, make up their own minds about who they are, and what they like etc. All we can hope is that we've instilled some good stuff in there somewhere before they stop listening to us. I think that all those people who are outraged at what baby Storm's parents have chosen to do should just chill out, and worry about their own families, and their own choices. There are many different ways in this world to raise a child, and in the end, there is no one right way. As long as your child and your family is thriving in a positive manner that isn't causing harm to anyone else, I say go for it. There are a lot worse things out there to worry about.
Baby raised without 'gender' sets off debate - CTV News

mean girls

Why is it that we women always seem to have to have another woman on the outs? It's true. Somebody is always the latest casualty. Somebody is always the latest one to screw up and do something that makes the other women mad, causing us to gang together and validate each others feelings of ill will. It's so bizarre. And it can be something so insignificant that you do wrong, like gain some weight for example. Or lose some weight. Any major fluctuation in weight in either direction is definitely cause for some cattiness, and rumor mongering amongst the rest of the women in that woman's social circle. Don't deny it ladies, you know it's true! But why do we do it? We start doing it when we are little girls, and for some reason we keep right on doing it, right up till we're senile old biddies in the nursing home - it's probably even worse then, I mean just imagine, there are virtually no old men left by then, so it's a whack of old ladies all thrown together and forced to spent all their waking hours side by side, my god I'll bet it's vicious times in those places..."that Mabel thinks she's pretty hot s#@**! since she got that hip replacement...and doesn't Ethel know that shade of blue hair is so last year??"
And it's not like most of us haven't at one time or another been the woman on the hit list. So you would think that we would learn a lesson about being supportive and kind after that, not wanting anyone else to have to go through being odd woman out, but no, we jump right back on that bandwagon of ladies ferociously relieved to be accepted once more, and desperate not to be pushed back off.
There are very few exceptions. I know a few pretty kind and saintly women, but even they enjoy a good giggle at someone else's expense now and then. So what is it? Some genetic trait that is part of our inner ability to survive? What purpose does it actually serve? I mean, what if we didn't do that, what if we acted like men who just don't really care that Joe looks like he had plastic surgery, or that Sam flirted with Sally, or that Jim passed off my coleslaw recipe as his own? Because they really don't care. So why do we? Is it some primal need that we have, part of a kill or be killed mentality from our cavewoman days gone by? It horrifies me to think that this is a carry over from some ancient need to compete for a mate thing, I mean really, could we still be that ruled by biology? And if so, shouldn't it stop by the time we have mates, children, and all the rest of it? Or is it learned behavior by then, so that even though it's not necessary anymore in terms of evolution, reproduction or whatever, it's all we know so we just can't help ourselves?
Whatever it is, it's real, and it's out there. Even when we know better, and that we should take the high road and not participate, inevitably there are times when we lapse in what should be better judgement and join in. I hear things all the time about women supporting women organizations and such, which is great, but why do we even need them in the first place?? That is my quandary.
As the mother of three young girls, I would love to solve this mystery, because without understanding the "why" behind women act the way they do, I am at a loss as to how to ultimately teach them not to follow in our footsteps. I think that would be a revolution indeed, in female evolution.
On the other hand, maybe life would just become super boring without all the drama that female feuding causes. The Real Housewives series empire would be duller than dirt, that's for sure. I don't have the answer, but I will keep looking. Whether I will choose to share it with the rest of you bitches is another thing....

Dr. Google

Well, it's official, I have shingles. What is up with that name anyway? It's very unglamorous as disease names go. I would much rather be able to say "I have the dreaded spotted archipelagoitis of the upper torso, oh dear god!" than "I have shingles...". Oh well. It's most definitely better than saying, oh that rash all over my side? Yeah, that's just bed bug bites.
So once again I have fallen victim of my own reluctance to see a doctor in a timely fashion, and now it is too late for me to take the medication necessary to shorten the duration of the disease. All because I consulted Dr. Google instead of my family doctor. When will I learn? Although I have to admit, it was a fairly honest mistake that I made in my self diagnosis initially. I mean, think about it. I was waking up in the night thinking something had just bitten me, because that was what it felt like - little prickling nipping sensations. And then sure enough, the next day I would see these itchy bumps showing up all over my stomach, my side, then my arm, my back....Apparently my doctor - my real doctor, not Dr. Google - thinks I have a mild case, since I have survived now almost two weeks with it without any great amount of pain, just enough to annoy me, but not enough to drive me to go see my real doctor soon enough to take any medicine to combat it. Oh well. I was so relieved to discover that it WAS shingles and not the horrible insect infestation that I originally was obsessed with, that I rather nonchalantly posted it as my facebook status, and was shocked to receive about 25 hits almost immediately from friends who have had it and were very concerned with how I am feeling, and to make sure to get the pain medication etc etc. So either I have "lucked out" so to speak, and really do have just a mild case, or the worst is still to come. I prefer to believe that I have super human powers of pain tolerance. Or I have just gotten so used to not feeling well - as in chronic sinus headaches daily, and a knee that feels like it is full of broken glass - that what's a little needly nerve pain? Not that I turned down the prescription for the "nerve" medication that the doctor insisted I hang on to in case things get worse. It's good to be prepared, that's the way I roll. In the meantime, I will self medicate with a glass of wine, and get set to cheer on the Canucks in the next round of hockey playoffs!

self diagnosis

Does anyone else out there do this? You wake up one day with oh, let's say, a rash. Instead of going to a doctor, you just get on the internet and google "rashes"....and see where it takes you. Okay, I'll admit it, this is exactly what I did about a week ago, when a mysterious rash appeared on my stomach and my side...and then my arm...assuming it was likely some kind of insect related thing, since I felt otherwise fine, I quickly narrowed it down to - oh dear god! - bed bug bites. Because that is just about the worst, most creepy crawliest thing I came across during my computer self doctoring journey, so that must be it, right? Anyway, once I had it in my head that there was even the remotest possibility that this indeed was the problem, I began systematically dismantling my entire bedroom. I'm talking about going through my entire closet, my dressers, throwing out clothes, washing everything else twice in hot water. Then I pulled apart the bed, got rid of the pillows, the duvet, washed all the sheets etc in hot hot water every day for a week, and then proceeded to vacuum every square inch of my box spring and mattress daily also, and naturally every other square inch of my bedroom. During all of this no one else in the house appeared to be afflicted with any sort of skin abnormality, but I remained convinced that I was battling an infestation. At night I would wake up, sure that if I turned on the light I would see them, crawling all over the sheets...okay, I actually got up, found a flashlight and spent ages crawling around the bed, lifting the covers, the sheets, looking all around, but found nothing.
Anyway. So this morning I get up, and as I'm dressing the rash that has reached my back starts to burn and prickle...so I contort myself and with the help of a couple of mirrors I attempt to have a closer look at what the hell is going on back there. Meanwhile, I realize that my arm is also burning and prickling...and suddenly the light bulb goes on. I mean the one in my head, not the one in the bathroom. A clustery rash, blistery bumps, burning prickly pain, and all on one side of my body...and off I go to the computer again, to google "shingles" this time. Aha! As I continue to read I become more and more convinced that THIS is what I have. And really, it doesn't look so bad. In fact, I'm pretty damn happy if this is what it is, 'cause I'll definitely take shingles over frigging BED BUGS in a red hot second, that's for damn sure. Okay, but yes, just to make sure, I did call and make an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow, because you never know. But I am feeling pretty good about this diagnosis - who knew that finding out you have shingles would bring me such relief?? And the other good news is that my house got one hell of a good cleaning before I figured it out, so it's a win win situation all around. Well, sort of. Kind of an always look on the bright side of life scenario really. God, I'll be so disappointed if it turns out to be something else tomorrow....well, something worse I mean. :) Oh, and it's really kind of serendipitous, actually, because you see, you get shingles only if you've had the chickenpox - which I got for my 6th birthday, in fact. And this Friday is my 44th birthday...so seems rather fitting, doesn't it?

Scrapbooking

So I recently had an excuse to enter the world of scrapbooking. Now let me be perfectly clear. I am not interested in scrapbooking. Never have been, and after this episode I can definitely say I never will be. This is not to say anything against those who enjoy this past time. To each his own, right? It's just not my thing. So why did I scrapbook you ask? Well, my friend is getting married. And she is really into scrapbooking. And so for her bridal shower we decided to ask all the guests to do a scrapbook page of their memories of the bride, and bring to the shower to be presented in a book as a gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time...So I dutifully made my way to the dollar store to pick up some supplies, as obviously never having done this before, I don't have so much as a sticker or a pair of fancy scissors in my possession. I found myself in an entire aisle of doohickeys for the art of scrapbooking, and realized very quickly that I just might be in over my head a bit. Actually I realized that I was most likely about to drown, but I took some deep breaths and plunged in anyway, because I love my friend, and I figured oh come oh, how hard could this really be? Dear god, if I had only known. I wandered up and down the aisle and found myself starting to just randomly pull items off the shelves and pegs and throwing them in my basket. I had no idea it was so complicated, that so much STUFF was required. Suddenly I started to feel really pressured, I mean, we're talking about me presenting a page as a special gift to someone who is REALLY good at this kind of thing, and I really didn't want mine to look like it came from a complete loser. Anyway. I finally figured I had enough stuff, and headed home. Then I put it all away in the corner of my room and tried not to think about it for a day or so. But since it didn't seem to magically be getting itself done, I hauled it all out on Friday, which was a professional day for the kids so no school, and got started. I would normally not try to to a task like this that requires me to concentrate when the kids are home, but I suspected that I might end up needing them to take over and finish it for me if I got too desperate. I labored - and I mean labored - all day, sweating, hunched over, getting glue in all the wrong places, paper cuts, and a huge headache. Finally I was done, or at least as done as I was going to ever be. And really, I thought it didn't look too bad. Certainly not like something that I had exerted that much effort into, but pretty decent nonetheless. I proudly took it downstairs to show it off to my family, feeling like I had physically actually run a marathon, and they were all suitably impressed. My husband even said it was better than he had expected from me...I know there's an insult in there somewhere but I'm not going to think too hard about it. Then the next morning the girls asked if they could make a page for the scrapbook too. So I said sure, and handed off the bag of stuff to them, found a picture they could use, and sent them downstairs to create. However, a few minutes later my husband announced that he was going off to do some work at a friends house and was going to take the kids with him, since I was heading out to some shopping of my own. I went downstairs to break the news that they would have to work on their scrapbook page later in the day, only to discover that they were nearly finished. I mean it, they were all but done. Just some words to write on one last piece of paper, and that was it. And it looked GOOD. In fact, they had probably twice as much stuff on the page as I had on mine, all nicely mounted on card stock with appropriately placed stickers beside them in all the right places. Well, I thought, so much for my plan of telling everyone that the kids had done my page for me, isn't that SWEET? They had just kicked my scrapbooking butt. Oh well. It's not like I was ever planning to do this again anyway. Not mention that my friend that we were all making these pages for knows me all too well, and therefore will totally appreciate the blood, sweat and tears that went into the page that I created for her. Which is what it's all about after all. So I pack up the pages, and the next day I take them to the shower where they are placed in a book with everyone else's. And when my friend gets to my page, she oohs and ahhs and laughs and then reads the little blurb I wrote and when she gets to the end, her voice cracks and she gets teary, and I feel totally content with my efforts, it was all worth it. And next time a scrapbooking duty of any kind is required of me, I will not hesitate for a moment to hand it off to the much more capable hands of my daughters. This was definitely a once in a lifetime thing for my once in a lifetime friend!

friends

I'm back. Survived spring break more or less intact. Trying to get my head around the real world again - oops, got bills to pay, need groceries, when exactly is soccer practice? Spent Monday doing laundry in a daze, it was all I could handle. After some industrious housework Tuesday morning however, I organized some lunch and prepared for a visit from an old friend. Sorry L, let me clarify - old as in we've been friends for a long time, not old as in old! The past couple of years have been very up and down for both of us, lots happening in our personal lives, more than the usual you could definitely say. And so time passed, and it had suddenly been a really long time since we had spent time together. But me with kids in school, and her with a massage appointment close by to my place, we had the perfect excuse to play catch up. Now there are friends, and then there are friends. Do you know what I mean? There are people you get together with after a long time apart and you fuss and you worry - does my house look okay, do I look okay?? - and then there are people who you know your house could be a disaster and so could you, but it wouldn't matter in the least. L is that kind of friend - it never feels like any time has passed at all when I talk to her. Sure, we've both gotten a couple of years older - that's code for a couple of years wrinklier, saggier, etc etc! - but honestly I realized that as we sat and visited she looked to me just the same as she always had. L is a beautiful girl, very tall, gorgeous dark hair, blue eyes and a great big laugh - she has always made me feel warm when I'm with her, warm as in cozy, comfy. I'm sure I'm like most women my age, getting hyper critical of my looks, as time is starting to definitely stamp it's mark upon my face and body, sigh, and I know my friend feels the same way, so it was weird when I suddenly caught myself looking at her and just seeing HER, the way she has always looked to me - warm, beautiful, vivacious. Funny huh? Maybe that's when you know you're really friends with someone - you pick up just where you left off, and when you part you feel younger again yourself. I hope she felt the same way. Anyway, in case I don't get around to telling you this L - we have great intentions of getting together but time does get away on us - I hope you read this and you get what I mean. It's just a reminder to me of what I said to myself earlier this year about cleaning house - as in my personal house. My promise to surround myself with people who make me feel GOOD, not stressed out or stuffed full of negativity and anger. Hey, maybe I'll get really lucky and if I clean out my mind, my body will follow. Or something like that. Although that kind of sounds like an ad for Alzheimer's, or perhaps a cult of some sort. Whatever, I'll take it if it makes me happy!

Shameless on Showtime

Shameless on Showtime
If I ever had (or have) any doubts about my parenting skills, thank you to Frank Gallagher for dispelling them - nay, for driving them into the ground. I feel so much better about myself after watching the first season of Shameless, the best thing to hit TV in a long long long time.

Spring Break Down

Yes indeed it's that time of year again. Two weeks - yes we get 2 weeks - of spring time fun with the kids, no school.....otherwise known as spring breakdown time. So with a house full of kids and the weatherman playing cruel tricks on me, I attempt to keep my sanity and maintain some level of peace around here until April 4 when they go back to school. In other words, don't expect to hear much from me, other than the occasional desperate latenight attempt to sit at the computer when everyone is finally asleep....

I will be trying to keep a running log of our daily activities on the Moody Girls blog, but as for "me" time, it will be in short supply for about a fortnight. Wish me luck!

forever young

Yesterday I posted a little something I found on Youtube that I couldn't resist called Middle Aged Women Behaving Badly. Just a collection of moments captured on video of women of a certain age and beyond, simply engaging in behavior that while might not necessarily have been bad, was ultimately more than they could handle. It was funny because of course they thought they COULD handle it, most likely because maybe they once could and did handle it. And then time marches on and an occasion arise to participate in something that you suddenly remember was super fun once upon a time, and before you have time to think about it, you're jumping on that trampoline, or swinging on that rope swing...and then disaster of course strikes, because let's face it, you're 44 years old, not 14, and oh yeah, the old bod isn't quite what it used to be. Even when you're a fit 44. Because whether we want to accept it or not, 44 really isn't 14, or 24, or even 34, damn it. Sometimes it's a sneaky betrayal, like the way your knee insists on hurting every time you go for a walk (you can ignore this level of betrayal for years), and sometimes it's right in your face totally unavoidable, like breaking your toe trying to re-enact an episode of dancing with the stars, or throwing your back out doing downward facing dog. I mean, I think these are reasonable things that I should be able to handle doing, and for the most part I can, but now and then my body decides otherwise and says "NO! NOT TODAY!" very clearly. And then I just feel bewildered and somewhat (or very) pathetic. Time is a weird thing. Today I had coffee with an old friend of mine. My first friend in fact when I moved back to Canada with my family at the age of 14. We have only seen each other a few times in the past 25 years since high school, but are both back in the same city once again, and so have gotten back into touch. And it's so weird really, because I can sit and talk with him and honestly, I just don't feel a day over 18. It's like no time has past at all, when of course lots has, so much that we have trouble figuring out just exactly where each other was during which year etc. So while my body continues to march to the beat of time's drum, my head and my heart apparently don't. Figuratively speaking of course. I remember asking my mother when she turned 50 if she felt different and she told me she felt just the same as she did when she was 18. I thought that was pretty interesting and amazing, and now of course, I am going through the same experience myself. I came away from my coffee chat feeling quite energized, quite bubbly, quite young in fact. So maybe that's the secret to staying young - spend some time with someone who knew you when you really were young, because that's how you still seem to each other. It sure worked for me today - plus it was a whole lot safer than death defying dance moves or trampolines!

Middle Aged Women Behaving Badly

'
OMG, this is too funny. Just look at what happens when we don't act our age....imagine explaining some of the injuries these got to the doctor....reminds me of my "dancing with the stars " re-enactment gone bad moment with my sister in law....one broken and one dislocated toe later....at least no one got it on camera...or did they????

Pregnant Women are Smug by Garfunkel and Oates

Wife Savers

I have a friend who recently was asked if she could houseclean for someone once a week. So she agreed to do it, and last week asked if I would be interested in working with her. So I said sure, what the heck, I'll make a few bucks and it fits nicely into my day while the kids are at school. Although I'll be totally honest, I wasn't sure about how I would feel about cleaning some one else's house. So I thought about that for awhile. I suppose it's because - let's be honest - most of us would automatically look down on someone who is a "housecleaner" for a living. I mean isn't it most people's goal in life to attain a standard of living where you can hire someone else to come and clean your house? Not to actually BE the house cleaner yourself. That's a terribly snobby way to think, but I was just trying play devils advocate with myself and be honest. Okay, so there's that. Then there's the idea of being knee deep (so to speak) in someone else's dirt. Was I okay with that? Well, sure, that's what rubber gloves are for, right?  In the end, I decided that I would go ahead with it, and by the time the big day rolled around I was actually feeling somewhat excited - I was really curious to see how I would feel about the whole thing once I was actually there doing it. Would my cleaning abilities even measure up to my friend's? What if I was really a lousy cleaner, I could potentially be exposing myself and revealing what the state of my own house must be - "clean??? You call that CLEAN???" scenarios were running through my head. Anyway, we walked through the house together after we arrived to decide which areas we needed to concentrate on the most, and divvy up who would do what. Then my friend dropped the bomb - apparently the lady of the house's mother in law was flying in from out of town this very evening to come stay for a visit with them. Suddenly the entire job took on a new meaning. We weren't just cleaning house anymore. We felt akin to super heroes, swooping in at the last minute to save the day. Just call us....the Wife Savers. Because let me tell ya, this was not your ordinary untidy house. This was definitely a cleaning product, clutter challenged home. So we turned up the stereo, donned our rubber gloves and went to work. Over the course of the next three hours we cursed, we scrubbed, we boxed up clutter and we sweat. We sweat a lot - who needs the gym, I'd be in great shape if I did this a few times a week! We actually went so far as to do a little home staging for mom in law - a bag of apples emptied into a bowl and set on a nice and newly uncluttered buffet in the kitchen, couch cushions plumped, you get the picture. And then we did a final walk through, gathered up all our supplies, gave each other a big woohoo! and a high five and drove our tired asses home.
Later on in the evening I was thinking about the job, and I was really amazed at how good I felt about it. I never feel that excited about cleaning my own house. Why not? I suspect it's because I wasn't just working for myself, I was working for someone else, and the whole time we were working we both kept saying things like "oh I just can't wait till they get home and see this, they are going to be so happy!"And they were - they called my friend up and thanked us for everything, and raved about how great everything looked. Oh, and could we please email them a quick note to let them know exactly where we put away all the stuff we packed up - probably so they could look for it without looking like they were looking for it in front of his mother, oops!
Oh, and one more thing. It was nice to get paid too - both with compliments and cash.

C'Mon Get Happy

It must be because I watched Celebrity Apprentice last night. No, Donald Trump doesn't exactly make me happy, although I admit that I laugh every time I see his hair. It's a new season and one of the new apprentices happens to be David Cassidy. You know, of The Partridge Family? Hence the title of this post. Anyway, poor David is apparently not meant to succeed in the cut throat world of Mr. Trump's reality show, as he got fired at the end of last night's episode. But I got up this morning, and it was a beautiful clear sunny day, and as I was making the coffee I realized I was humming a little Partridge Family tune. Not such a bad thing. If fact, I'm feeling pretty sure that it was a major help in my keeping my sanity so far on this Monday morning. It was pretty typical around here, a couple of the girls dragging their feet, another doing last minute homework that they assured me was done every time I asked over the weekend. But it wasn't bringing me down. I was feeling pretty triumphant when we arrived at school, just in time, and as we got out, one of the girls water bottles fell out and rolled under the car. I told them to go on in and I would bring it after I retrieved it. As I walked around to the other side of the car, I saw to my surprise that one of my back tires was completely flat. Completely. As in could not have been any flatter. Huh. First things first though. I carried on and was crawling around in an attempt to reach the water bottle when I heard a bemused voice ask if needed some help. I looked up to see my brother in law watching me - his kids go to the same school as mine - so I said, sure! As he was crawling around trying to reach the elusive bottle he said something like this is a good way to start your day, and I laughed and said yeah, and I also have a flat tire too. So after he managed to grab the bottle, he then gallantly proceeded to dig out my spare and change my tire, which was really nice. Only slight problem was that the spare was almost as flat as the original. But I knew of a tire place just a few blocks away, so I figured I'd give it a try and headed off very very slowly on my funny little flat spare. I was certainly not popular with the traffic behind me by the time I made it to the tire man, but made it I did, driving practically on my rim by this time. However, it turned out that the tire man wasn't there. His father was manning the desk and told me his son had to go take one of his kids to the doctor...that sounds all too familiar! But he told me to just leave my car and they'd fix it when he got back and call me. So I handed over my key, and grabbed my coffee mug that I had fortuitously remembered to fill and bring with me, and started the walk back home. It was a little dusty as they are doing a serious amount of work down the hill from the road, getting ready to put a new highway by the river that will get the truck traffic out of our little neighborhood that has built up over the years. But regardless, it was a great morning for a walk. And now it's time for another one, as the tire man just called me to say he's back and my car is all good to go. And I have a feeling that I will be humming a little retro tune in my head all the way there, and that's just fine by me. Sorry you got fired last night Mr. Cassidy, but thanks for helping to keep me smiling this Monday morning!!

Robbed of sleep

Well, after yesterday's debacle of being robbed, I am now feeling definitely robbed of sleep. The police came and poked around, we called the alarm company and arranged for someone to come and see about setting up perimeter night vision cameras and so on, and then we locked everything up, set all the alarms and went to bed. All the while trying to pretend for the kids' sake that everything was normal - don't need to send them into panic mode too. Of course both my husband and I were awake most of the night I think. He was up prowling around with a baseball bat every time he even imagined he heard a noise. Meanwhile I was lying in bed most of the night trapped between him and our daughter Kate, who has the flu and wanted to sleep with me yet again, alternately being terrified that she was going to vomit on me, or that the snoring from both her and my husband would prevent me from hearing the sounds of yet another assault on our property. This morning I sit here sucking back coffee, trying to get my bleary head around all the upcoming appointments and events in the next few days. Meetings with the alarm company, the police, someone who hopefully wants to buy our little Audi, soccer practice, soccer team party, soccer jamboree, picking up my nieces along with my own kids at school, oh, and a play date for the twins. Also must remember to get quotes for house insurance that is due this month, return a birthday gift that the recipient already had and get replacement gift, and pick up a gift for one of my nieces whose birthday I have already missed. What else? Right, make sure everyone is fed and clothed in something that will pass for clean. And take care of my sick kid too, which will make the shopping portions of my to do list somewhat difficult. Guess those just may not get done. When all else fails, blame it on a sick kid. That works. I can blame my messy minivan on the thieves who rifled through it the other night, even though sadly I wouldn't probably have even noticed anything unusual in there other than my glove compartment being open. As for the rest of the list, I will make some phone calls, write it all down on the calendar, throw in a load of laundry, cross my fingers and hope for the best. First I definitely need more coffee...

Stop thief

Why do people take things that don't belong to them? Isn't that one of the first things we try to teach a child? How many of you out there got busted as a little kid stealing a candy  or a toy that Mom discovered when you got home from the store? I bet lots. It happened in my family - my little sister and brother got itchy fingers while grocery shopping with Mom and each helped themselves to a candy from the bulk bin. Mom spotted them after they were home, and back they all went to the store, and the kids had to give back the candy and say sorry to the store manager. Lesson learned. So obviously there must be a whole whack of people out there who either missed out on that lesson as kids, or for some reason it just didn't mean a damn thing to them. Because for the second time in a year, we were robbed last night. Someone came onto our property, which is quite private, and helped themselves to some things in our carport. Yes, I know. We shouldn't leave anything in the open, not locked up, and you'd think we'd really have learned that the hard way already, since it's happened once before not long ago. I guess I will blame the part of me that despite this second theft of my stuff still has a hard time believing that there really are bad guys out there, and obviously way to close to home. We live in a nice neighborhood, but why would I think that would put off would be thieves? "oh these folks all seem so nice and have such nice homes, let's not rob THEM..." and off they go to steal from who, the people who don't have anything? Again, I know, only myself to blame. Plus there is a ton of major construction going on as a new road is being built, so lots of people around who don't live here. Again, yet another reason for us to be more careful. And so we will be. We'll be locking things up extra tight from now on. But I still struggle with it, because it sucks that I have live like that, worry about my home, and the safety of my kids, all because there are people out there who have no respect for others, who didn't learn that it's not right to take from other people, and who don't give a shit.
Ah well. Keep calm and carry on, right? Maybe next time there will be nothing out for the thief to take except my husband's ancient smelly beast of a cadillac - oh sorry, I mean his special car. One can always hope...

the Oscars 2011

Is it just me, or was there a real lack of glamour at the Academy Awards this year? The whole show just seemed very unremarkable. I couldn't figure out what was missing at first, and then when I realized how thrilled I was at seeing Warren Beatty and Annette Bening, well, I asked myself, where are all the other MOVIE STARS? Okay, for those of you who don't know, yes, I had a huge crush on Warren Beatty when I was about 13. I even had a poster of him from Heaven Can Wait on my bedroom wall. What can I say? I had particular tastes, even then. But really. Other than an appearance by Kirk Douglas which I thought was pretty much the most entertaining presentation all night, where were all the other big stars? I'm talking the Meryl Streeps, the Jack Nicholsons, the Julia Roberts, Brad Pitt. You know who I'm talking about. The MOVIE STARS. Isn't that why we watch the show in the first place? I don't want to sit for 3 hours listening to people who act like humble, hardworking joes just doing a job. What is the point of the movies at all if not for the thrill of escape from reality???? Please. Give me your over the top actors every time, at least on that night of nights. It's supposed to be all about the glamour, the scandals, the gossip, offensive self indulgent speeches that drag on and on, never ending movie montages set to swelling movie scores, some outrageous choices of dress, and some DRAMA, am I right?? Ho hum, I have to conclude that it was indeed a very boring, beige event. Maybe next year they should just computer graphically insert some of the old hosts and presenters into the proceedings. Inject some life into the whole thing. At least invite some MOVIE STARS to come, for gods sake. Did they all take the night off to watch the show at home in their jammies? Booo.
Anyway, that's my take on this years Oscars. Next year, less humble mumblings, and more glitz and glamour please. Pass the popcorn.

Bullies - nature vs nurture??

We hear a lot about bullying these days. When I was a kid, we knew what a bully was, and yes, some us  were bullied. I myself was a target many times growing up - we moved a lot, from country to country, so I was often at the disadvantage of being the "new kid" who had a funny accent and weird clothes etc, plus I wore glasses throughout my entire childhood, and I had braces as a teenager...you get the picture. Somehow despite these obstacles I managed pretty well, and was never picked on for long before I had figured out a way to fit in. But I certainly didn't have any help from special programs at school, or rallies, or pamphlets, or books or seminars. So with all these new resources available and the fact that bullying is so in the news all the time, why does it seem that the problem of bullying has gotten far more serious than I remember it being when I was a kid?
Here's what I think. When I was a kid, and someone picked on you, you told your teacher, or your parent, or your big sister, and one of them went and kicked the crap out of the bully's parents, or the bully. Unless you were talking about a whole gang of bullies, in which case you were basically screwed and you just did your best to fly under the radar as much as possible with all the other little kids getting picked on. It was just one of those many rites of passage of childhood that we all survived and at least then we weren't alone. The problem is that now if you're a bully you can get away with just about anything. Because not only can no one get away with punishing you, such as a teacher, or another parent, your own parents most likely don't give a damn what you do to other kids anyway, and they certainly don't give a damn what your teacher thinks, or other kids parents think. So there is absolutely no one left to punish the bullies out there. And they know it, so they go to even greater extremes than they once did.
This is why I believe that the Young Offenders Act is a load of crap and should be thrown out. If kids know they cannot be punished and held accountable to anyone for their actions, of course they'll do whatever they damn well please! Duh! Isn't that like the basic first rule of parenting?? Actions and consequences?? Apparently not the first rule anymore. I suspect that this basic facet of raising your children must be completely missing from an appalling number of households out there, because how else do you explain why so many kids are growing up to be these horrible little monsters who have no respect for other people? They cannot all be born sociopaths. Therefore I believe it is the parents who are responsible, and the parents who should be held responsible along with their progeny for any heinous acts they commit which should be punishable by law.
Okay, so what should the consequences be? Some lawmakers out there need to come up with a family version of punishment for harassment. Do they get their house toilet papered and egged every Friday night? Do they get wedgies doled out on a daily basis? Do they have to supply a different child with their lunch money every day?
I don't know what the answer is, but it's about time we started figuring it out. Maybe what we need is a good old fashioned Anti Bullying super hero, a vigilante to take matters into their own hands and clean up this world. Wouldn't that be interesting? I know one thing - that's a super hero that I could believe in! What do you think? Any takers out there??

birthday parties

When did birthday parties change so much? I mean from when I was a kid? Honestly. We dressed up nice, took a present to someone's house, ate snacks their mom had made, played some goofy games, got a little loot bag and went home again. Now, you have to drive your kid an hour across town to some whacked kids gone wild type of place where the host parent pays a ton of money for someone else to provide some form of entertainment for the children, some crappy food, and meanwhile I have to hang around at a mall or find some other way to kill 2 hours, because it takes too long to drive all the way home, and then turn around and drive all the way back, and I have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon, like spend time with the rest of my family, and if they had just opted to have hot dogs and chips and play pin the tail on the donkey at their house that is next door to mine I could be home instead of wasting a ton of time and gas money on a child's birthday party. Sorry but I just don't get it. I throw all my kids birthday parties at our house. Always have. Yeah, I have to take a little time to plan things out, make sure I have food organized, some games ready to play. So what? It's my kids birthday. I want to celebrate it with them, spend some time with them and their friends. Isn't that the point? Kids don't really need that much else do they? It's one day a year, surely it's not that much to ask of a parent to put a little bit of time and energy into running a birthday party for their child. Sure sure, I hear you saying, but we don't have a big house, or we both work and don't have enough time. I think it's a cop out. It's just like everything else in society today, "instant". As in pick up a phone and hey presto, instant birthday party. I get that when the kids are a bit older maybe they want to go out for pizza, or to a movie with a couple friends, something like that. Okay, I can accept that. But when they are little like mine are - 7 and 8 year olds - I think a couple hours of fun at home is a good time. I put a little time into something like a scavenger hunt for my daughter's party last year when she turned 8, we made it an "Amazing Race" for the kids. And then just let them run and play and snack etc. My kids love to help come up with some fun stuff for the goody bags to hand out at the end. And they love helping figure out what games to play, what their party theme will be. And I love throwing the party with them. But I feel like I'm in the minority, and I don't get why. A couple years ago I mentioned to another parent that it was my daughters birthday party coming up, and she said "oh really, so where are you going?" and it took me a moment to understand her question. "Well, nowhere, actually, the party is at our house," I replied. "oh really, that's different. Good for you, "she answered back, leaving me trying to figure out what exactly that meant. I'm sure part of it, maybe a big part is that although the party is supposed to be for the kids, more and more it seems possible that it is actually for the parents, as in who can come up with a bigger better version of the birthday party than the last one the kids went to. Hmmmm. So is that it, a combination of keeping up with the Jones's and just sheer laziness, not wanting to take the time to put the party on yourself? That sounds pretty awful. I'm sure there are plenty of parents out there who would take great offense to my opinions on this. That's okay, it is just my opinion, after all. They are just as entitled to theirs as I am to mine. Just please don't expect to drive my kid across town bearing gifts to your kids birthday parties any more - if that's how you want to throw your parties, the least you could do is provide transportation. And that's all I have to say about that!