Say it Slowly

I've vaguely referenced The Werewolf before but even if you hadn't picked up on it you should be aware that my undying love of long running jokes is well documented at least.  The Werewolf is pretty much the longest running joke I'll likely ever be involved in since my friend Andrea and I started it in grade school, however I think it's finally time I explain it since it has started going viral in the last year which I think is THE BEST year of The Werewolf's life.  Especially since I sound really crazy when I get asked about it... reason #897 why Andrea was never supposed to LEAVE THE PROVINCE.


If I were to write some kind of wiki definition I would say The Werewolf is a totally 'mysterious' fictional character that my friend Andrea and I occasionally will joke around about.. usually when in the presence of someone who has no idea what is going on.  The reaction to not knowing what we're talking about ranges from finding it hilarious, to confused, to outright angry at us for keeping something from them (ahem, that's only happened once, Andrea's sister..)  The essence of whatever we're saying about The Werewolf is very similar to Stephen Colbert's non-factual statements about Jon Kyl

The difference is that The Werewolf is not based on a real person and in fact that is not even his real name.. we'll get to that though.  For all intents and purposes he is that total asshole friend in the group you're always mad at but let hang out anyway.  The first one to get kicked out of any party for being too drunk and either taking a conversation too seriously or practicing 'Mortal Kombat' moves and breaking a lamp.  The guy who tries to make random conversation with you if you show up at the same time to buy weed from that guy you both know.  The d-bag ex-boyfriend you keep talking to for some reason even though you're pretty sure he once stole a picture from your apartment you had of your mom.. frame and everything.  He owes money to everyone and basically anything that goes wrong, no matter how unbelievable, is always traced back to him somehow.

Well last year The Werewolf got a facebook page.  And friends.  I can count on my hand how many times I've almost hurt myself laughing and one of those times was Andrea calling me in the middle of the night to share that she kept friend requesting her mother over and over from The Werewolf and she called Andrea freaking out "WHO THE HELL IS THIS??" Occasionally anyone who is in on it will 'suggest friends' for The Werewolf and it's always hilarious to see what happens.  I wish it got old but now he's gone viral I really doubt it.





Here's a glimpse of his page, and after years we finally reveal his real name.

Say the name slowly... repeat it a couple times. I'll give you a few minutes.

You can go ahead and add him if you think it's as funny as I do.  The Werewolf totally wants to be your friend!

All the fish

A moment of silence for all the homeless fish that made Fishbowl Friday possible.

That was a damn good night. And yes, I instagr.am everything. It's kind of a problem...

If anyone is looking for a cool app to go with it though, I just found Postagram! It prints and sends your pictures as a postcard to peeps you like for .99. The photo also punches out so they can keep it in some kind of awesome scrapbook/on the fridge. I haven't used it yet but when I actually go somewhere worth sending a postcard, watch out! I'm sure it will also become a problem.

I need a job at Facebook Ads

...what a rewarding career!

First I have no idea what I said in my messages to have them advertise social work; second.. the way advertising is supposed to work is that it makes me interested in hearing more.  Looking at this I'm thinking, wow, I didn't know they had social workers IN HELL.  Am I right or is it not as if she's going to immediately eat my heart right out of my body.  The other thing I'm thinking is how much of a red flag is it that "become a social worker" was its own trademarked phrase.  Is it one of those things where after I take the course I realize I'm not actually qualified to do anything but make paper mache solar systems.  Sure a 6th grader can do it too but I'll be able to do it REAL WELL.

I seriously could talk about Facebook ads all day they're so terrible but there has been an especially reoccurring ad telling me I should do things in my area before I die, and the picture is just something so stupid that I can't help but think.. really? I guess if I haven't put tiny rain boots on a pig then I haven't lived.  My idea of a good time must be way off!

If you're going to point out that the ads must have done their job because I noticed them let me just remind you - shut up.

Last year of asgoodasitgets, I guess it better be good?

"Life is like a train ride. Some people will sit next to you and talk to you. Some will just stand around.. oblivious to your existence. Some will have to leave the train while you're having a great conversation and who knows when you'll see them again. And if you're lucky, there'll be those who will sit and talk to you throughout the whole journey."

(via goodmorning&goodnight)

Let's panic

Today is my birthday.

That is one of the cards I made at Brooke's workshop.  I know they say you can't do wrong when doing crafts but that's just something you tell kids.. when you're 29 you can do it wrong.  Doing your best doesn't count as much as anyone ever lead you to believe.  I'm just here to crush your dreams/inform your adulthood along with me.  Wow 29 is just a shitty looking number isn't it? 

If anyone wants to know what to get me, either of these totally adult books would be great.  Or a home made card if you happen to have one.

This title is depressing as shit

I can't deny it's the phrase of the week!  For one reason or another circumstances keep conspiring have Debbie Downer following me around whether I like it or not and every time I have a conversation she pops up and then the music goes WOMP WOMP.  As if she knew I told that story the other day, my grandmother decided she'd let me know she's donating her body to science when she dies.  I have to say I was kind of surprised to hear that; not that I fantasize about her funeral but I think everyone assumes the person will be there.  I actually think it's kind of great she wants to do that.. and yes, depressing as shit that she is making my grandfathers arrangements for him by himself.  Why?  Because in real life he doesn't even get dressed without her laying out clothes for him.  It's not the fact he'll be buried alone but that he literally cannot live without her that is so fucking depressing... he can't even make his own funeral arrangements.  The bright side is it leaves him tonnes of extra time to focus on more important things.. like smoking!

By the way, if you're having a week like me then please don't watch Blue Valentine.  Just wait on it.  Nothing personal to the movie; it and my best friend that shops at my Fortinos, Ryan Gosling, were just great.  It's just that at the end of it my heart kind of felt like sitting in a bathtub full of red wine and making some toast.  It only takes about an hour to make my heart feel like there is nothing to live for, apparently.

Being my birthday on Thursday I am looking forward to a fun week, starting with a card party Monday night with Brooke and Kim!  You get to make your own pro looking cards, so already I know I'm going to make a "condolences" card haha.. just kidding! I realize it's all healthy and shiz but nobody is allowed to mention any funeral arrangements until FRIDAY at the earliest.

Snow Day

I've only seen more birds than this on TV / in my nightmares...

This summed up the weird spring snowstorm today, from my end. Snow doesn't usually change my day but for some reason, instead of any school being cancelled around here they just decided to cancel all the busses so I drove through it twice. Nothing terrible although I was pretty sure I was going to witness an accident in front of me at one point. Someone thought that backing up through an intersection was an awesome idea! Hey guy, snowing is not at all like a zombie outbreak.. you still have to obey the regular rules of the road. Why I would have to even say this living in Canada I have no idea.

Sadly, when you have a snow storm at the start of spring you not only confuse people in their cars, but the birds etc which have come out last week. Every bird in the area decided to hang out in my neighbours tree. ALL DAY. I pulled into the driveway for the second time to this tiny little bird huddling for shelter near my garage and it was so sad I wanted to go inside and build some kind of bird hotel for them to ride it out. I was then reminded of when we first moved into our house and like, day 2 a bird flew right into the window. Of course I went out there to see if I could help it since it was injured pretty bad but it was so freaked out by me it kept hopping away and died. That's the shitty thing about animals, the fuckers never let you help them! I'm sure if I built them a shelter and tried to get them to go in it they'd swarm me and carry me off somewhere. That's like the best case scenario, too.

Pee Break

My parents have owned and operated a lodging home business since I was very young. If you don't know what that is it doesn't matter enough to explain but - I've known the clients who have come/gone and some that still live there for what seems like forever. Last week my Dad calls me and lets me know that one of the clients had passed away (in a hospital, not on the spot or anything) but these people have very few relatives or friends so this person actually ended up leaving 90% of his belongings to my mother, who also made all his final arrangements. If you know these guys who live there it is actually not weird at all that this would be the case, nor is the fact that he didn't have anyone to claim his remains so they are in a box in the house on display which is, I guess, a nice memorial for the people he knew.

And depressing as shit.

After this happened another one of the clients said she was also going to leave her belongings to my parents, aside from a few things to her family members, and sat down and wrote out her Will on a piece of lined paper that he said only filled up half the page. It's all very sweet isn't it though?

And depressing as shit.

My Dad then lamented with me that he hopes his life will be a little more full and shared his fears that very few people will miss him. He said he wanted hundreds of people to inform if he ever died. I reminded him that 1) he always has me to miss him, I'm as good as 100 people missing anyone.. I'm that good at it. 2) my birthday is coming and he just fast-tracked a freakout quite nicely. I'll confuse you here by saying that I love my birthday, birthdays, celebrating them etc. It's not actually about the birthday. I am not afraid no one will miss me, or of dying, nor that I haven't accomplished anything significant if that happened. Seriously, I'm not just saying that. I actually feel quite the opposite, so, I guess that's a lucky thing. The actual problem I have is a little phobia best described by John Mayer's Stop this Train, if I can get a little Mary Catherine Gallagher on you; which is there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop time even if you don't need to. In my mind it's as if I'm on a tread mill going very slow and you think, what is so bad about that? hardly any work at all.. but it's the fact that you can never get off. Ever. Not even to pee. You can't even reason with anyone to get a pee break, or go faster so you can stop for one at some point ahead.. there are no pee breaks in life, period.

Another horrible story for you which is 100% true and 110% depressing as shit, and zero to do with my birthday. When I was very young I was having a sleepover at my grandparents house and I remember when it was time for bed my grandma told me to go upstairs and get ready and she'd be right up. I (a little like Ethan, actually) enthusiastically insisted she come up right now with me!.. come on let's race upstairs! She started going up the stairs and I was behind her and I asked why she was going so slow and she said it was because she was too old. When we got upstairs I asked her if she was going to die and she said yes, she would die some day but I shouldn't worry about it because it wouldn't be for a while. To me that said, you might as well worry about it now because I have no concept of time so "a while" could be next week as far as I know. After she read the story and I went to bed, I got up and ran downstairs bawling my eyes out asking her why she was going to die and leave me all alone. Her response was to make me feel better by telling me it's ok because everything dies.. including me. Muuuuch better.

I only wish I freaked out about aging one day a year because honestly, it's every fucking day, my birthday is just the best one.

Fishbowl

3 reasons I haven't been updating this blog.


1. It's either this or taking a shower.. honestly, and I like showers.
2. I'm currently unable to finish a thought that doesn't resolve itself in 30 seconds
3. see number 2


The internet doesn't benefit from my smelling nice but trust me there are lots of other people who do.  I suppose I could use the time I watch Hoarders to update instead but ..then I would miss the crazy.  You know I love crazy.  Truthfully the few times I have tried to write about one thing or another that I've been up to, it always ended up like this: "Had a fun night out with a couple friends and although they did not have fishbowls of alcohol it was still pretty awes.. *one year old snaps my laptop shut like a clam shell*  Fin.

The waiter did at least draw a representation of a fishbowl on my dessert though!

My birthday is coming up soon so I'll be sure to make some time at least to write about HOW HORRIBLE IT IS.  My last birthday of my 20s, how did this happen? I swear it's like this shit happens every year.

I always keep my promises

Especially if it's a promise that I won't finish something... consider it accomplished.  I'm obviously talking about that 30 days of photos which I totally made to 23.  I may finish it at some point but it made me think of all my favourite pics I never publish.

Like this one of my Dad and Ethan last Easter

Or screen caps I take to put in my non existant scrap book of favourite things.. like this picture I commented on of Andrea's trip to California

Or some random image I saved only because it reminds me of a bookmark I had in grade school..

It kind of defeats the purpose if I shared all my favourite things so I hope you enjoyed those.  It's kind of nice to have a kind of e-memory box, if only to look through on a particularly rainy day.  Or, yanno, if you ever go all Charlie Sheen! at some point and lose your fucking mind.  You could have an e-collection of things you used to care about other than WINNING.  Off topic.. I wonder if he's asked himself, logically, if he thinks his tiger blood is good for his Adonis DNA?  Just saying, I'd love to know.

What?!

I know I have breastfeeding on the brain right now but what in gods name is this??  And who the hell are the mothers answering an ad asking for breast milk?  Does that even sound the least bit legit to you?

Oh, what's this.. someone will pay me for my breast milk.. there is literally no way this could end in me in a bathtub full of ice.  

In other news, do you know how stressful it is to have a person totally reliant on you for nutrition?  I mean honestly, the ends to which mothers have to make something out of nothing is pretty nuts if you think about it.  I feel like shaking my fist at the sky asking "now what???" if I wasn't afraid a huge list of stuff I have to make from my body parts would fall down from it.

Sweet Disposition

Photographer: Rodney Smith

Weeks ago I last talked about confessing why I am a total hypocrite after tormenting my son Ethan with even 5 mins of watching Labyrinth. I like to wait until at least 15 days after I have a baby to tell people what a failure of a parent I am. If I could somehow tie this terrible decision into being a result of my parents letting me watch Poltergeist (and in fact having a cousin named Carolanne, to creep it up some more) that would be great. I know that I must have been at least 5 when I saw Labyrinth but I remembered LOVING it so when I was trying to think of awesome alternatives to a) watching any more Star Wars or b) especially Clone Wars cartoons.. I saw it on the NetFlix and thought "MAN this is going to blow his mind!"


I was right.. but it was because he was soul-shatteringly upset he cried his eyes out. I literally sat there consoling him as if I just showed him video of me rounding up a bunch of puppies and executing them. You might ask why, and the reason he gave me was that he was really, really concerned about the baby. Telling him the baby was OK wasn't enough since the Goblin King also scared the shit out of him, and therefore the baby was not OK. This happened again when he saw the end of Revenge of the Sith and Padmae gives birth to the babies and dies. He actually tried to keep himself from crying which I've never seen a kid do, and his exact quote I believe was "I can't take it anymore.. my heart feels like its in a million pieces." He's a sensitive one, that one... and a little dramatic.

(What my boy looks like when you give him a lego star wars cake) 

I should note here that he regularly creates Lego monsters that can rip your head and body off so maybe it's just about babies for right now. More research is needed. Hope everyone is having a great Family Day!

Vitamin Water for the Homeless

Comedy Central's Jokes.com
Tags: Jokes,Joke of the Day,Funny Jokes

Baby

Hi, I'm here!

Seeing as I just turned my blog into a giant bowl of cuteness, I'll save all the best parts of our experience from the last few days for another time.  Just know that it involves a teddy bear on a toilet sticker on my medication though.  So disturbing.

Peel your eyes off

The times I love having not just a 5yr old, but MY 5 yr old the most, are directly related to being exceptionally funny. He tries all the time to be funny, and it usually involves the word poop, pee or the punchline that someone is going to the bathroom and then asks if that was funny. I say no. He's not old enough to know that he's incredibly funny though in moments when he's just being himself. We had an unexpected PA day today, unexpected in the way that I realized IN the car at the bus stop.. 5 mins after it was supposed to arrive.. it was probably a PA day. That was not cool as it was seriously cold this morning but while waiting in vain for the schoolbus to come Ethan suggested we pool our resources to find it faster, and misusing a common phrase in basically the best way I've ever heard. You see, he was going to keep his ears open to see if he could hear it coming.. and my job was that I should peel my eyes off. I could not even stop laughing to correct him but hey.. it's a weird saying anyway!

So what do you do on an exceptionally cold Monday PA day? Watch quite a lot of Star Wars and then go sledding for a bit. I'll tell you two stories associated with both of these. One, I am the dumbest child ever.. and the other, I am the worst parent in history and potentially hypocritical after all the bitching I've done about the inappropriate stuff my parents let me watch. I mean I did, after all, turn out JUST FINE.

The first time my parents decided to take me out tobogganing for real, aka down a hill by myself, I was in 1st grade. They decided that I also needed a 3 person aluminum sled that went really fast and that neither of them were going to go on with me more than once. So there I was, top of the hill ready to go, and at the bottom of the hill were my parents and a large brick building.. I think the whole hill area was a water treatment plant. Either my parents didn't realize if they aren't on the sled with me, it will go faster and farther.. or they thought I had a lot more common sense than I did. Not only did I actually sled right into a brick wall but I did so ignoring my parents yelling at me to jump off.. because I rather take my chances than jump off of something moving.  I had never practised that so it was the equivalent of jumping out of a moving car to me. There is no moral to the story other than don't take your kids tobogganing the same week as picture day.  I lost a front tooth earlier that month so I looked REALLY GOOD.

Damn.. maybe after that story I think I'll tell the other one another time. Instead here's a bunch of pictures of that not happening when we went sledding today.

Sunnier

A Day Without Sunshine Is Like, You Know, Night.

- Steve Martin

Ironically, when he smiles with his eyes they look like little moons :)

FIVE

One of the things I was very sure of about Ethan turning the big 5 is that he needed a special cake. I don't know why exactly.. perhaps because I so much remember turning 5 myself. I didn't have a fancy cake but there was a cute Carebears topper holding a balloon that said 5 on it... I'm sure with how my grandmother hoards things it's actually still around somewhere. I wanted to start a tradition of giving the kids special birthday cakes every 5 years, hoping they'd really look forward to it and remember them as special years. The result ended up being so awesome, I think it ended up feeling a little selfish since we were about as excited as he was. His face was priceless!


Enter, Lego Star Wars cake (with Tye Dye insides!)

R2 was my fave!

Ugh, the coolness was just too much. I take no credit whatsoever for the creativity when I ordered it.. my only contribution was (agreeing with all their awesome ideas and) it MUST have a Darth Vader on it, which Ethan noted and then nom nom'ed him; and I think a lot of other characters.

I don't know how much the cake had to do with it but he was so happy that day and had so much fun at his playground party that the fact he kept thanking us in the car was almost too much.

the Shitty bar

I need hobbies to occupy the next 4 weeks or so that I can do while sitting down, so I thought I'd start my own 30 Days of Photos album. I'm not going to post it everyday since that's ..overkill.. but it's on my flickr and if you want to play too, have at it, add me or leave a link!

I'm on day 2 and already I know I likely will be interrupted before 30 is up, but that's just adds to the fun doesn't it?? So mysterious! PS who the hell does 365 on flickr and considers themselves 'normal' .. normal is giving up, man! You are not that interesting all year!

30 days also seems to be the magic number for keeping my attention. 31? not as attractive for some reason. 60, you must be joking. I get physically angry at anyone who counts down to something longer than 60 by the way, so I don't even want to hear about it if you did that for some reason. I can't handle the subsequent thoughts of you as a child in some sort of long car ride or whatever.

My other relaxing hobby so far is tweeting kijiji ads I find that are so, what's the word? Hamilton. Oh, and funny!

• Balls for girls, everyone. Who needs balls for girls?! I have two. http://bit.ly/gee5MC #kijijihamilton

• Mint condition marvel action figures! http://bit.ly/fjGzgW see my 'other ads' aka the finally getting laid collection #ilovekijijihamilton

• anyone want to open a really shitty bar with me? they've got labatts, molson and mill time left! http://bit.ly/g31bsg #kijijihamilton

Lucky Number 3

I've had a handfull of moments in my life where I knew, even if there was or wasn't a reason for it, that I was doing something I'd never be doing again. Whether that fact was wonderful or awful I've always appreciated those moments for their clarity since life just so rarely gives us any of that. I don't know how many times I've heard that if only someone knew it was their last ______ they'd have done something differently. I'm not talking about things you just flat out didn't like so you don't plan on doing it again. Those are pretty easy. I don't like butter tarts for example.. it's not news to me I will never be eating one again and I don't have any feelings about that. Maybe a WTF face since butter tarts are terrible. What it could be is something like the day you graduate or go to your last day at work or whatever; it deserves a little recognition, even if it's a small thing.

For me right now.. I am completely finished with pregnancy/child-making as a life experience. I'm fortunate I even had the opportunity since some people do not, or desperately cannot, and although it has left me irreversibly changed (literally.. one of my children took some of my guts with them when they left. I'm also anemic and my thyroid stopped working..) I couldn't be more lucky to have done something universally agreed as almost unbelievable which is also unfortunately impossible to describe to another person who hasn't also experienced it first hand. Everyone but you is pretty much a witness. The results were kinda nice, too :) I suppose that all that before I turn 30 is somewhat of an accomplishment as a human being.. I did a ton of stuff, y'all! I used to joke with one of my pregnancy penpals to tell her husband.. you just cannot win a contest with a mom of shit they did that day. Growing a person plus anything else always comes out on top. But on the reverse side, I'm done before I'm even 30. I need to appreciate that fact, mainly as a person who, in life, never likes to say never; so the little time I have left will be even more sweet. When I can have champagne again we will definitely be doing a little celebrating.

Bring on the table-flipping madness that is a house full of boys and one bathroom!

French fries are the devil.

My Sunday night story

I didn't think I'd be writing anything about the start of the new year until I had my very own "celebrities, they're just like us" moment at the grocery store.  You know at the back of People magazine or US weekly where they show celebrities walking their dog or putting gas in their car segment.. and you're supposed to go WOW it's like they're LIVING MY LIFE!  Or.. something like that.  Anyhow so without boring you of the details of my Sunday night, we went to the grocery store to get bread and lunch things and suddenly I pass this really tall guy in a black and grey lumberjack looking jacket and baseball cap.  He looked right at me for a moment and while a normal person would have smiled, because that's the polite thing to do, I likely had a funny "heyyy..." face because I was either having a stroke or I was looking right at Ryan Gosling.  In the vegetable section of my Fortinos.   In the middle of processing this, as if he was answering me, his face made a friendly "no.. you don't really know me in real life" expression.  I appreciated that since it's the Canadian thing to do: don't make people think they're crazy.

After he passed I paused before I said anything to Sean because I still wasn't 100% sure even he would believe me, but luckily he stuck around the store to finish his shopping with his family so we got a good look again.  AKA Sean went to go see and I hid in the baby food isle just in case he thought I was stalking him.  Sean really enjoyed that.

Folks.. I am the worst at playing any situation cool.  Ok maybe not the worst since I didn't embarrass myself or bother him but I'm definitely the worsts cousin, pretty bad.  Never challenge me to a no smiling contest, no blinking contest, or poker if I am aware of all the rules; because by god I will screw it up.  Pay for groceries with a straight face?  Fat chance.  This is literally the picture I tried taking at the check out.

Where is Ryan Gosling?  He's standing exactly where the blurry monitor is... SUPER FAIL.

Our cashier asked me if I seriously just took a picture (she seemed unimpressed he was there, or upset he didn't choose her line) and I replied, of course I did!  haven't you ever heard of the Bill Murray "no one will ever believe you" stories?  I have.

You saw him in the video room so that means he wants you on the team.

Clearly I haven't died, I'm not writing from the beyond... in fact, I don't even know where I put my Ghostwriter notebook.  In retrospect that is probably the reason why I only solved like one case.

What actually happened to the website was a drunken bear crashed into it causing huge technical difficulties and my Dad asked if I'd like him to resolve it and I told him to take his time.  I thought it was a really good idea to maybe take an indefinite break.  Also I tend to share too much about the holidays and I didn't see how the world would miss one less story of my grandmother making me 'table flipping' angry due to some comment I can't even remember, which I silently pass through a part of my brain that by now is likely a huge tumor.

The holidays have been pretty exciting; a first ever Christmas School Play, a 6am Star Wars Christmas morning, the first year we spent in Port Dover with my family and taking a huge schoolbus of us and the kiddoos to see the Simcoe lights.

I also got to see Andrea for the first and last time in 2010.  If you're not in the know she is one of my best friends ever.  I made some Blackbottom Cupcakes for the occasion, cappuccinos, egg nog and cinnamon (I am apparently an unofficial Starbucks location for 2011) and we hung out pretty much as if I saw her last week.  It was a lot of fun for me.

You know what? I had such a great Christmas that if you do in fact think I robbed you of at least one more story about my grandmother for the year I'll give you a late present.  It's a good one.

When I lived with my grandparents naturally they would buy all my clothes, taking into account it was the 90s there was still a certain point where I wondered if she just hated me by what she chose (I, of course, could never pick out anything appropriate for myself).  There is a picture in existence of a 12 year old me attending my cousins wedding in an ivory pants-suit and button down pink silk shirt.  She though it looked 'smart'.  Doesn't the knowledge of that just make you smile?  I wake up in a cold sweat every once in a while dreaming was accepting an award on behalf of Michael Jackson.


Yet I still did this to my kids.  I hope one day they forgive me because it's flippin' adorable.

Firsts

Happy 1st birthday to my Little.  From a tiny warm basket of laundry and sunshine to my sweet bouncy chewy little monster.  It's been a great year.
xoxo


Your proud Mama

Things that don't make sense

1.  I love this shirt.  Love it.  I wish I could wear it for my birthday.

Heartbreaker Top, in Peacock by Of Two Minds

2.  but it's $324.


Those two things just don't make any sense to me.  I like a shirt that costs what?  Does it know that it's not even a sweater!?  Or a leather bag?  I feel like I should at some point understand women's clothing.  Is this going to be on the test?

Rescue from the Coffee Lagoon

I have never read mommyblogs, satirically written or otherwise, but I have to say if I DID read them then I'd definitely put Bedtimes are for Suckers on my list. I liked most of the posts but this one was pretty funny for me personally since our table is a freaking mess most of the time (what isn't.. actually). In fact, since I have Monday's for just me and my little Gabey, the table presently has a shrine to Ethan's trains.. just as he left them this morning to go to school. God help me if he were ever in an accident and I went insane and decided we were going to preserve his things exactly as they were until he returned home. We'd literally have to leave the house as it would be functionally unliveable.

The funnier part of the post was my being unaware that I really dropped the ball on the "LOL look what a mess my kid made" photo! And oh, I do have one, of sorts. I'll show you in a minute. First, it is the simple fact that my blog is not about being a mommy; that's way too specific.. my blog would only dream of being so focused on something! It's so high on goofballs there is no way to ever know what it's about.. and believe me, I've been asked!

That being said I assume someone familiar with my overall personality would believe I'd totally find all of that stuff precious and super funny.. but that just isn't the case folks. I'm extremely dull when it comes to fun via disastrous messes. I do not know why since I would love to have a parent like that.. but no, I don't seem to ever reach for my camera. If I am making a motion like I am looking for something at all it's probably patience. Anyone see my extra set of patience? I was sure I had it in the kitchen last. Like the time Ethan was 2 and he found the Peneten diaper cream, and painted himself and our dark hardwood floors with it. I sat there after cleaning him, with a knife and other various small tools for 25 mins trying to get that white waterproof goop out of the tiny cracks it filled in between the floor boards. I did not think of getting my camera once; how odd. But yes I do have one "LOL look what a mess my kid made" photo.. it exists! Ethan decided he was going to make it snow indoors.

In the process he antique'd himself with baby powder and the best part is this was all about 30 mins before my grandparents were coming over. I didn't intend him to be wearing a UFC shirt by the way, but it was pretty appropriate for this picture. It looks like he knocked down a wall to get that water bottle.


I admit I did find one thing he used to do pretty funny.. constantly rescuing Diego from the coffee lagoon.

Oooooo nooooo!

Then I remember the time I found him on my suede chair, somehow finding and then biting a pen in half... blue ink everywhere... I did not know whether to be afraid or somewhat impressed with that one. If only everything could be the coffee lagoon, I could start a website called stuffinmycoffee.com

Frightening Search of the Week

It's been an extremely long time since I've highlighted a search of the week but I had to seriously pause at someone finding my site by googling "having babies in the shower"

Since this website has nothing to do with that I feel it's my duty as a human being to answer the query ..non-judgementally *ahem* the shower is not the place to be having babies. I don't care if you heard it was the new cool way of having babies from trendy moms on the internet; if you'd like to have a baby in the shower I'll advise you there's no need to be a hero.. go to a hospital. They have showers there too if you're insistant upon having a baby there. Or in case you were looking for stories of ladies accidentally having babies in the shower.. don't worry, it'd be easy to step out and call yourself a cab if that were to happen.

If that search had nothing to do with that and was about an actual 'baby shower' somehow, you need to take a course on how to Google for the future. You aren't doing it right.

Chapter 5: Sonofa..

On the cover of Time Magazine...?

If my life was in actual, real chapters, because I thought I was famous enough for more than 10 people to read about my whole life and decided I needed to get super rich... I'd call this next one "Fucking Bitch Who Stole My Leather Jacket". Just kidding.. I have no idea what I'd call it probably other than you're not going to believe this bullshit. I was reminded of said chapter of bullshit, consisting of about a year or so of my life, by some innocuous thing like buying a certain kind of pasta side dish at the store. Yeah, really, pasta.

It's not as if I ever actually forgot about it but I may as well have being as disconnected with it as I am. When I was 13, a situation conspired where my family basically sheltered a 15 year old runaway girl until she turned 16 and therefore somehow not wanted by the police. She ended up staying longer than she was welcome. We'll call her Tiffany for the purposes of my story. My name is still Ann-Marie by the way.. in case you thought this was some kind of skit I was doing.

Anyhow, the specifics don't matter unless you'd just like me to give you a good hour of reading about why I should have never escaped therapy, but while I essentially lived with this person she had decided we were going to be best friends. 24/7. That wouldn't have been terrible if she wasn't a complete freak who, unlike a real best friend or sister, tried to make things like showering with me to save time or dating a family member of mine seem like "totally normal" shit .. which nobody else seemed to be present enough to notice WAS NOT NORMAL SHIT. You know, like that episode of Twilight Zone where everyone is a pig face and is horrified to look at a normal face. Well Tiffany, the giant gap toothed 'pig face' who did end up stealing my leather jacket when she left, liked to make this one Butter and Herb side dish from a package for dinner basically every day and I accidentally made it for dinner a couple nights ago. I couldn't eat very much. I am 28 and I am not ready to eat that pasta. I may never be ready to eat that pasta. It's shitty pasta anyway so I don't even want to buy it, it was on sale, so she can go fuck herself.

Did I just scare you all? Anyone? Bueller? It was only a summary chapter, everyone, if I actually wrote the whole thing.. I would have surely swore about 800 more times, at nobody. Ahh, I know the perfect way to end this post the way it deserves. Cunt.. balls..

Happy Hallowe'en!

I have had fun getting to the point where my now 4 year old "decides" what he'd like to be for Halloween, based on his likes.  I won't ruin the surprise but this year it has something to do with the 3 weekends full of all day SpikeTV reruns of a certain trilogy of movies.  It might rhyme with Bar Floors.  His Dad could not have been happier.

It made me think of my favourite costume decision when I was young: "business man" which was, in fact, just me dressing up as my Dad.  I so wish I had the picture from that year.. I think I was 10 or 11.  I literally wore one of his suit jackets (he's not the biggest guy in the world) and a red tie, gelled my hair all the way back and carried a briefcase with a HUGE cell phone in it.  I think I was going for his "Prudencial Insurance" days.  Oh and my mom went crazy with the eyeliner and penciled in black eyebrows, a mustache AND beard.  Picture that going to school.  I am constantly thankful that growing up, my own opinion was the only one that mattered to me.  It's a gift I can only appreciate now, knowing how the world is, and one that I would love to be able to give to all my kids if I could. Dressing up as my Dad was the coolest :)

I hope everyone has a safe, fun and costume-terrific evening!

Playing with Cars

Heard of the RIP Walkman playlist?  Sad, I guess, if you like to give human qualities to things like electronics.. and who doesn't?? in which case IT'S DEAD AND NEVER COMING BACK.  Or you could say on the bright side I had fun making a 90s playlist on 8 tracks.  

I have always loved how some music you love is a little like time travel.  

Sunshine

I thought the world could use a little more sunshine today, so I'm sharing mine :)

8 Tracks

Sweet site for listening to uninterrupted mixes of 8 mysterious songs. I got lost in it for a while.. it's kinda like the radio since you can't pick what comes up.  Also, if you feel like it you make your own mix but can't listen to it.. or more than 30 seconds of the song (to make sure it's the right one, I guess) mysterious right? You also can't skip ahead songs more than 2 times an hour.  I made one and labeled it the radio in your car.. which are a bunch of songs on the radio when I drive around, and I thought it was awesome. You'll be surprised at least once, I promise.

Enjoy 8 Tracks!

Seasonal: better things

You want me to kill what?  I don't see it.

Had a great anniversary day on Sunday, a rare whole day alone :) Beginning a new week is so unbelievably crappy though. The bright spot, as I choose to see it, is the last handful of months have conspired to make my hubbs and I realize getting time to spend together hanging out, not completely tired, isn't just a nice to have. Writing it out like that it almost confuses me as to why that happens to people at all, but anytime I want to be doing something fun, I always wish it was with him. Maybe we'll get lucky soon.

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
— Marilyn Monroe

Are you f*#!@ grumpy?

I spent until 1:30am last night Skype chatting with Andrea so if this video is somehow not as funny as I think it is, it's because I'm seriously tired.  We're off the the apple orchard again today though so

Grandmothers, doing whats best for you if it kills you since 1982

This cookie jar from thrift store hell is living in my kitchen.

I received it from my grandmother who knows I don't own ANY things like this, I also don't have an abundance of cookies that need to be contained so therefore I've come to the conclusion she must be fucking with me at this point.  Not much else explains this cookie jar.

I have spent many years of my life crushing her spirit with sentences like "listen, this fur coat is great and everything.. it's just not my style."  Meaning we aren't in prohibition times.  Then, she cries.  However, I only expect this crazy crap during the holidays.  And it's because of my sporadically crushing her spirit that she only comes over with maybe 2 or 3 things.  If you don't have any idea of what that is like, you lucky bastards, then just picture waking up Christmas morning to an insane woman spraying fake snow on the outside of your windows and you'd be fairly close.  Not for me of course but for the children.  Christmas needs to take a dump in my house and forget to flush, like an asshole, or else everyone will be sad.  Unless ultra decorations your thing though.. then that is just wonderful.  I wouldn't come over and start taking shit down because I thought it was nuts so if you find my house 'depressing' because it's not flammable you're also more than welcome to just leave.  Also it's probably you that is depressed.

Obviously that is what I'd LIKE to say but you know it usually comes out as "Ok, that's.. a thing.  Uhhh ya I guess I could use it.  Sure."  Hey you try being the reason your grandmother cries at Christmas.  JUST TRY IT.  You don't have what it takes!!

If anyone would like to revisit the unfunny short 8 part webcomic series last year, you'll see why my frustration is as unending as it is historically amusing!  So here's the whole thing for old times. 

• puke chicken salad #1 
• lesbien #2 
• facts #3 
• watermelon #4 
• on a boat, good times #5&6 
• calling 911 #7 
• doubting thomas #8

Kicking off Turkey Weekend

Well, I had a really fun Friday.. I am incredibly tired but since when is typing considered "work" right?  I have a large tumbler full of Coke, everyone!  I can blog my Friday.

Man, I sound like such a white lady.  Who says blog my Friday?

So yes, this morning I took the kids to an apple picking orchard and hay filled, corn maze play-land called Froot To Go.  We played, mazed, hayed, and frooted with friends.  I really wanted to pick up one of their apple pies from the bakery for Thanksgiving dinner this weekend.. but then I remembered I don't like apple pie.  Buying one would only encourage people to keep offering me some even though I've had 28 years to try and like some, but don't.  Yes, even with vanilla ice cream.  Butter tarts too.  No I don't understand why they're related.  You see the dilemma.

Actually I was carting 3 kids to the car, two were asleep and one covered in hay.. so that's my real reason for not buying what was likely a fantastic pie for everyone but me.

My grandfather left on Wednesday for his annual week-long hunting trip up North.. so far North it takes two days to get there.  Sometimes even I forget how big Canada is when we just call everything upwards "north"..  and I live here.  Anyhow the orchard would likely be the end of the fun but I thought since it was such fabulous day out that visiting my grandmother was a good idea.  We had lunch, and it wasn't bad at all.. she was pretty happy to see us.  After that I was honestly tired BUT I headed over to my cousins house instead of pack it in for the day, again.  We got to hang out which is a serious work-week treat for me and Botson Cream donuts were involved.  You kind of have to know all the people involved in my day to understand how fun it was but you don't really need to understand to agree that being tired from fun is the best kind.  Totally awesome way to start the long weekend which involves pie I do like (pumpkin) and massive amounts of turkey.. and people to eat it with of course :)

Happy Turkey weekend to my fellow Canadians!

Crazy Thursday

via: Happiness is..

"Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were."
— Marcel Proust

Oh, ... you're hungry

I'd love to get a Roomba if I weren't completely sure the kids would try and ride it. And I mean 100% sure. Ethan would also try and feed it until it eventually drowned in juice. I'll admit I'm slightly curious if Gabriel held on really tight, if he could Swiffer the floor behind it. Anyhow, it's too bad because the house certainly needs one.. or two.. ouu they could battle! I cleaned everything top to bottom on Sunday and have had to tidy it again 3 more times since, although not as much.

It's Wednesday.

That's normal but when I clean for 3 hours I expect dirt to know it's banished and should stay out of my sight for at least 24 hours. That's just polite right there. This subject came up when I was at my friend Kim's house and she mentioned she cleaned before we came but even the smallest crumbs under the couch would gross one of her friends out. I assured her that she wasn't talking to one of those people because I am pretty sure once we had children we didn't lose all functionality in the real world and were re-purposed as very pretty crumb catchers. This isn't 1950 so I still think it's funny that there only seem to be two kinds of people in this world.. those who care deeply how clean their house is at all times, and those who clean their house so other people won't talk about them. The first category populates maybe a generous 5% of the earth which basically means everyone else is doing so just in case their friends are "Show House" people and they don't want them to be uncomfortable coming over to a regular house that has DISHES in the sink or anything. Because more than one person lives there. I didn't mention a third category of people who don't care at all and hopes everyone knows it but they so rarely get guests I didn't think they counted. The film crew of Hoarders aren't guests, either... nice try though.

The city is pretty gritty for an itty bitty pretty girl

I feel like I should get into watching It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia because I've heard some really good things about it. If anyone out there is a fan and wants to push me over the edge, feel free, I'm having some commitment issues. You see, I am SO loyal I end up watching anything if I'm halfway invested and it's even remotely entertaining.

See: Grey's, Private Practice, Gossip Girl, Vampire Diaries etc.


My loyalty is non discriminate, and kind of a 15 year old girl. It's also not very modest. I love giving my qualities a persona by the way... it's just one of those types of Fridays? I get silly, go on about TV and quote a new episode of The Simpsons that hey, wasn't bad this time, honestly! randomly in my post title. I'll confess it likely has something to do with Andrea calling me up last night and deciding she will ONLY watch an episode of Jersey Shore if I'm there, and therefore we should get on Skype and watch one like we used to watch The Simpsons over the phone in grade school. Literally we'd just get home, get on the phone when it came on and only talk to eachother on commercial breaks. I hope it's plain to see why I'm so devastated that she's gone and NEVER coming back, and that now Brooke is also leaving.. I make so much less sense without them, and trust me, I can't afford it! lol. Imagine if every one of the people in life that make me make more sense lived in my neighbourhood, we could have annual chili and cupcakes cookoffs, hold ice sculpture team competitions with themes like "beer" or "brands of detergent" and we'd clear the street to watch B movies projected on someones house. If that sounds like a good time to you then, well, thank you for existing even if we don't know eachother.



I hope everyone has a great weekend, as always :)