Holy Mackerel

So, my brother Adonis called me today, telling me I wasn't updating my blog enough and he felt he was losing touch with me, his only sister whom he loves more than life itself, and I then wanted to say well then why don't you pick up the damn phone and call me, but I didn't say that because it would sound kind of rude, and I am never rude to people, animals or even rocks, because rocks have rights too, guys. I'm not really sure what Adonis meant by his pronouncement that I don't update my blog enough. I mean, I know I don't update it as often as I used to (before school happened, and since my life as I once knew it fell apart and I died and went to hell), but still, I can't just be expected to update this thing every single day, can I? Just in the hopes that someone is actually reading it, and actually cares what they're reading? As it stands, half of what I say here is pure bullshit anyway, so there you go. However, I suppose I should be quite honou...

Things are going oh so smoothly here on the ranch. NOT. So far this week (and it's only Wednesday, I think), we have one sick boy at home with what seems to be a bad virus that has so far attacked his abdominal region, his throat, his chest, and his joy for life. Dee is sad and sick. We also have a sick Em, who isn't quite as ill as Dee because she is still able to go to school and get things done, but who has been sick with a cough/cold thing since about Christmas time. Apparently there's a "thing" going around these here parts, creating havoc with waay too many people, most of whom seem to be in my house. I have as yet to get sick, which is, in itself, a true miracle because I am usually the one who gets sick approximately thrice a week. I've been feeling a bit under the weather, but haven't really succumbed to any awful crap. Yet. Although, now that I think of it, I am on antibiotics for a sinus infection, but I can't say it's awful,...

Can't believe it's already the middle of freaking October, and by that I mean HOLY CRAP, TIME IS MOVING WAAAAY TOO FAST!!! And then I ask myself, 'Poodle, how does this happen?' Does time actually go faster at various moments in the space-time continuum, or is it that my brain finally exploded and caused me to lose track of a few months? I'm voting for the brain explosion, because that's how I've been feeling. There is just so much to do, and so little time for any of it. In fact, I feel totally guilty keeping up this blog because really? I should be studying. Or doing a load of laundry. Or buying a turkey. Oh yeah. It's Thanksgiving this weekend. Awesome. In fact, I LOVE Thanksgiving. One of my favourite holidays, because it's full of food AND PUMPKIN PIE, which has been my favourite pie of all time since I was in utero. Oh, and by the way, whipped cream just ruins it. You're welcome. So, usually at this time of the year, I'm all exci...

My hormonal ebbs and flows are slowly, but surely, killing me. If it's not a major migraine that lasts for what seems half a century, then it's uterine cramps that remind me why I will never have another child of my own, and when it's not one of those two things, my emotions are screaming inside my head and it feels like my brain is eating itself. And, what makes all this even better is that -- YES!! -- my perimenopausal decrepitude might last 10 years! And then I will shrivel up and die. Awesome. Here's but one example of my utter irrationality during this time in my life. I am sure Mr. Handsome could throw out about 3.478 more examples just off the top of his pointy head, but he's still busy trying to rip the duct tape off his mouth. We were supposed to go to the movies on Wednesday, and I got all excited because we don't just go to the movies every day or anything, and I was also really looking forward to buying popcorn and putting loads of cholesterol-...

So Dee has left for camp for a week. And Em leaves Monday for a week to yet another camp. Yes, again. Clearly, I try my hardest to see the kids as little as possible during the summer. This means I have almost 5 days of absolute freedom, whereby I can lie in my own sloth, pig out on nothing but Nanaimo bars, Cheetos, and margaritas. I might shower, but chances are better that I won't. In other news, * You should read this if you haven't already, because I'm actually not complaining for a change. I know! * Y'all, I get Mother of the Year Award, and it is well deserved. Word.

This is why I win Mother of the Year Award. I couldn't upload the images, so you'll have to link to them. I'm extremely sorry for this, but it's par for the course when you put me in a room with a computer. So, just click on the following links and you'll get the picture. Pun totally intended, because I've got nothing else for y'all today, folks. I'm spent, as in, my brain has fallen apart and I am now walking around zombie-like and full of anger because just as I finished the last of my requirements on Thursday to get into the paramedic program,  I got the Period From Hell, and a wicked eye infection, which has now spread to both eyes and requires me to put antibiotic drops into my eyeballs thrice per day, and squint in pain the rest of the time. I also feel all left out because, once again, I'm not going to BlogHer, and I kind of wanted to go this year, mostly because it's in New York City, but I knew right from the start that I wouldn...

I am surrounded by love. It is wrapped around me like a warm blanket, no gaps to let in the cold. I had this realization just now, as I ambled back down the stairs to get the phone and a bag of cookies before returning to bed. Don't judge. The contentment I felt thinking this was as close as I think I've ever been to the purity, the clarity of it all. Mr. Handsome and Em are coming home late today, after three days in Toronto visiting family, leaving Dee and I here to fend for ourselves. Dee's been battling a stomach virus for awhile, but is on the mend, although he wasn't well enough to take the trip to Toronto, so he had to stick it out with me instead. Although he is 12 years old and no longer a little child (as he reminds me almost daily), he is still my little boy, and always will be. The weekend home with him was decidedly uneventful, with him slowly returning to eating food other than rice, applesauce, broth, and yogurt. Moody, yes. But nothing out of the ...

My brain remains cluttered with chemical equations and laws, and I'm beginning to look like the frazzled professor we've all had at one time or another in university: unbrushed hair, no shower for three-plus days, and no change of clothing. Here I wait for my chemistry exam that seems to have disappeared into the ether (little chemistry joke there), somewhere between here and Toronto, hoping the time comes sooner rather than later to write the damn thing so I can finally begin to forget all those useless things I've been jamming into my poor little brain over the last five weeks, and refill it with things that actually make sense, like what flavour ice cream is best for a dinner alone, or how does one get away with only brushing one's teeth once a week but look like one brushes three times a day. Those things. Spending the weekend at home alone with Dee, who's had a stomach bug that just likes it a bit too much inside his intestines to leave (Mr. Handsome and Em...

Still no reply from Fiskars, guys. I'm getting really angry now. Pulling out the big guns, as they say. Methinks they aren't taking me seriously, which is just ridiculous. So, I'm in the midst of putting together another email to Nikki at Fiskars Headquarters, and this time, I'm not mincing words. In the meantime: * Waiting for my garden boy, and almost having a heart attack when I see a Harry's Hedges truck across the stress. * Still waiting for my garden boy, and getting kind of tired of it all really, which actually means I'm pretty much just a pathetic excuse for a person who has no life and would rather live in her wild and wily imagination than actually face reality, whatever that is. I also spent Saturday with Adonis and Wood Nymph, who, along with Dee, went to my parents' gravesite and planted flowers to make things look all pretty and presentable, because if we're about anything, we're all about image. I didn't take any pictur...

So, as I mentioned very briefly and selflessly the other day , I totally saved a school (and probably the entire country) from definite demise, and I am now waiting patiently by the phone for the city to call and offer me an award or maybe even the Order of Canada because I obviously totally deserve it. Although, I'm pretty sure the city doesn't give out the Order of Canada. Well, they should. Let me explain. The other evening, I suddenly became very enthusiastic about going for a walk. Mr. Handsome, Em and Dee looked at me like I had finally gone over the edge (because they know that is totally going to happen, it's not a question of "if", it's a question of "when"), so I had to tone down the enthusiasm a wee bit and repeat myself so that I made it clear that I was totally serious. Then Dee pipes up that he'd love to go for a walk with me, after first getting a small nod from Mr. Handsome that he'd probably be okay going alone with me. S...

You'll all be very happy to know that there is no mention in today's post of my awesome neighbours! Can I hear a hooray for small miracles?! Amen. And you're welcome. Mr. Handsome went away for the weekend, leaving me and the kids alone.all.weekend.long. Yeah. Guess I could end the post right here. But I won't. Mr. Handsome gets invited to this "all men's" weekend every spring at his sister's husband's cottage up in the Muskokas , and of course, he goes. Very thoughtless of him, if you ask me. And gender biased. Anyway, it sounds extremely boring because I asked him what exactly all the guys do up there for three days, and he looked at me like I was the stupid one, and said, "Poker." So I said, "You play poker for three days straight?" and he said, "Yeah," as if it was a totally normal and not obscene and very boring thing to do. And then he added, as an afterthought, "Well, we intersperse it with some x-box,...

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...

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 !

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...

"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...