Holy Mackerel

So, I guess I had some people worried with my last post. Sorry. I guess I'm depressed. BUT ... I'm feeling a tad better today, so today's post, albeit late, will be a happy, hilariously and joyously fun post that will have your ribs sore from all the laughter that will no doubt emanate from your gut. Oh yes. The only problem is, I have Dee home with me today and he doesn't.stop.talking, which I really don't mind, and actually quite love, except when I'M TRYING TO WRITE A F**KING BLOG POST. Ahem . Sorry about that. Obviously, I am still harboring a little anger and resentment. Or whatever. Okay, Dee's upstairs taking apart Mr. Handsome's computer, so I'm good to go. Why is Dee home, you ask? Well, it goes something like this. Back in January, Dee brought home one of his millions of little pieces of paper from school for me to look at. Before I go any further, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the best at keeping track of important p...

The problem with being me is ... just that: the state of "me-ness". It's almost unbearable at the best of times. I've been laying a bit low the past few days because -- HOT NEWS FLASH!! -- I've not been feeling well. Like that never happens, you're saying to yourself. Don't deny it. I can hear you. My arthritis has been raising its ugly head again over the past few weeks, and decided to make itself fully known on Monday. My hands are once again swollen and painful, my hips hurt with every step I take, and my sacroiliac joints and back are screaming, "DON'T MOVE IF YOU WANT TO STAY ALIVE!". Speaking of which, I've been questioning that last statement lately. My physical state has, unfortunately, had an effect on my mental state, leaving me depleted of energy and desire, just wanting to sleepsleepsleep the days away. I haven't been a very good mother lately, or a good wife, or friend. My temper is short, my good moods fleeting at b...

Today is a special day. Today is the day, 12 years ago, that our son was born. A squawling, raucous, chubby boy with ruddy curls greeted us after only three pushes. Three pushes to bring to this world an almost-10 lb.package of pure love and joy. I was so excited when I became pregnant with Dee, because now Em wouldn't be an only child, and because now we'd have a girl AND a boy, and I felt like it was finally "right". And it was right. So very right. Four months into his life, we were devastated when our cherub was diagnosed with cancer. And our lives changed forever. I cried every day during that year of chemo treatments and surgery after surgery. Somehow I had enough tears. One of our greatest fears through all this was that, although he was just a tiny baby, he would somehow retain memories of this most awful time in his life (if he even survived), and would forever be marred in unforgivable, haunting ways. As it turns out, Dee is one of the happiest souls tr...

Conversation with Dee while on our way to Toronto in the car: Dee: Mommy, are you a virgin? Me: Wwwwwhhat?? Dee: Are.You.A.Virgin? Me: *silence* Uhhh, wellllll, what do you think that means? Meanwhile, in the back seat, Em is screaming, "This is TOTALLY inappropriate!!" Dee: If you're a virgin, it means you don't have a mate. Me: Well then, I guess I'm not a virgin. Right? Dee: Yeah. (pause) I know Em is though. Em: INAPPROPRIATE! Another pause, then ... Dee: You know what? I LOVE that show Franny's Pants !

Our weekend in Toronto: Leave Ottawa at exactly 10:04 a.m Friday. No traffic the entire five-hour trip. A first in the history of all our trips to Toronto. Awesome. We see this: And this: And then there was baby puke, and mega crying. We realize the baby is sick. More baby puke. More baby anguish and screams. We realize the air mattress we brought along has a major hole in it. Not a good thing. My arthritis decides to get extra nasty, with more backache than I've had in a long time. Saturday, we go to the CN Tower and see this: And this: And this: And then Dee looks like this: And has to go to bed filled with Gravol, Advil and hugs. And the baby lays an eight-inch floater in the bath. More baby puke. Em has a mega headache and goes to bed with lots of Advil. I go to bed with doses of medication so I can sleep through the arthritis pain. Sunday brings us much more fun, minus any Valentine's Day celebrations, since Mr. Handsome was in Ottawa, and I was in ...

So, we're heading to Toronto for the weekend, sans Mr. Handsome, which some would say is a vacation in itself. Which is to say, Mr. Handsome *I* would say that. Not really. Maybe. We haven't seen Mr. Handsome's sister's baby "Oscar" in a few months, and that was when they came up here at Christmas time, which means we hardly saw them at all because we were all sick with  The Plague of Disney World and were, as a result, quarantined by the laws of Mr. Handsome's family. Also, Mr. Handsome's sister wanted us to come down to Toronto and babysit visit, so we're going. She's also pregnant AGAIN, so this is my chance to make fun of her ever-expanding body. I'm taking Em, Dee and Gryphon with me (why yes, as a matter of fact, I do like horrific car rides), and we're leaving Friday morning and coming back Monday afternoon, which means that, not only am I missing Valentine's Day with Mr. Handsome, but also that I'm posting my usua...

You are not going to believe this, guys! Gowan's my Facebook friend! I KNOW!! Who's Gowan , you're asking? Before I tell you, let me just say that I seem to be the only one around here who is the least bit interested in this, which just makes me very, very sad and disillusioned, actually, with the whole family dynamic. When I found Gowan on Facebook , I decided to "friend" him because, in my tiny brain, he is my friend. I actually met him when he was all hot and sweaty after a show at Barrymore's many many moons ago and I think I may have even touched him and gotten a tiny drop of sweat on my left forearm. So, yeah, I am his friend, and he's really famous, so suck it, all you jealous and envious Gowan-wannabes. No one in the house seemed to care in the least that Gowan friended me back ALMOST IMMEDIATELY. Not only was this guy insanely famous in the 80s and maybe even the 90s, but he's now part of Styx, This is Styx. which makes him even more of...

We decided to have a nice family night on the weekend, and ended up watching Deliverance . What? We played Hearts afterwards, so it's all good. Mr. Handsome (who is apparently reading my blog again -- read it and weep , buddy) said the movie was entirely inappropriate, and he walked around all serious-like and feigned authoritative license, and then said dinner was ready and we were to shut off the television. I let him know, in no uncertain terms, that the stuff he has allowed the kids to watch (including all those video games that do nothing but glorify violence, blood and gore) is so much worse than anything on Deliverance . Oh, and we won't even go into watching Die Hard on Christmas Eve, and stating that it's a perfectly fine movie to watch on Christmas Eve because -- hello! -- it takes place at Christmas time. Or, how about WWF Smack Down wrestling matches? Or those caged wrestling matches you and Dee seem to adore? Yeah, let's talk about that for a moment, s...

"What's a prick?" Dee asked me, all nonchalant-like as he cuddled beside me on the couch, watching Jersey Shore (what?!). And let's stop right there for a moment and ponder this moment of extremes: a cuddling cherub, full of life and innocence, asking me what a prick is. I did a double take as I looked at his innocent, little, chubby, freckly face. Did this child just ask me this question? I asked myself, feeling a hot flash overwhelm me. "Ummmmmmmmmm, a prick? Uhhhhh, why are you asking me this?" I said, hoping he'd change the topic and forget all about it. But, a part of me was curious, truly wondering. "Jake called me that the other day," Dee said. And then Dee explained. Apparently, Jake shouted out some embarrassing words to a girl Dee likes, something to the effect of, "Hey *** ! Dee wants to kiss you!!" You know, stupid and embarrassing kid stuff that makes a child want to cry. Not sure why Dee is so often the butt of bul...

You know what I absolutely hate? Stupid rules, that's what. Stupid rules that stupid people believe they have no choice but to abide by, and then transfer their idiocy so that it greatly impinges upon your life and makes things that much more difficult for you. Like going back to college at my age isn't hard enough. Like knowing I might be the absolute oldest person in all my classes isn't making me want to vomit. As if knowing that the next two-and-a-half years may be some of the hardest years of my life isn't.bad.enough. More about idiots in a moment... So, I did it. I registered for college, for both the paramedic and the practical nursing programs. I should know in a month whether or not I've been accepted into either. In the meantime, I needed transcripts from university and high school to go with my registration, and as luck may have it, I could do it all online, with only a few phone calls to get my student numbers, and a few hundred thousand bajillion mi...

Because Mr. Handsome is no longer reading my blog, I feel entirely free to talk about this. In fact, even if he were still reading my blog, I'd probably end up talking about this, because it is THAT awesome. Yes, my friends, the moment I've been waiting for it finally here. I couldn't believe my eyes when I read that the world's first 3-D porn movie is being planned! OH.MY.GOD. Just think about it, people. The implications are enormous (pun intended, but only by mistake, because I only just noticed it). Apparently, the man responsible for Caligula , which I know all of you have on your shelves (wrapped up in a Teletubbies faux-cover) has decided to produce what he calls "the world's first 3-D pornographic production". Apparently, the recent success of Avatar has convinced Tinto Brass that the time is right. Really, there's not much difference between the two genres: save a world, pork a girl.  What Avatar and porn realistically have in common, I...