Something Baby Blue

In the Heat of the Day

2008-07-17T01:18:00.006-04:00

I was on edge.

She had her bathing suit on and it was already sweltering. She was exceedingly quiet as she sat in the backseat probably daydreaming about a day at the beach. I know that I would prefer the sand in my toes with the scent of sunscreen heavy in the air.

That was not meant to be. I was going to spend another day cooped up with the air conditioner blasting beside me. If I were lucky I wouldn’t have to turn my space heater on.

At my desk I took a sip of my coffee and my thoughts drifted back to her.

I should have opened the window just a crack. The car was only a half a block away in the hot garage. At least it was out of direct sunlight.

I imagined an innocent bystander walking by. They might glance in and rush to call the authorities. The humidex made the 31 degrees Celsius high feel more like a scorching 40!

Almost ten hours had passed. I emerged out of the office and immediately felt a blast of warm air wash over me. I was thankful that the summer sun had not yet set even though I had worked late. Deadlines loom over me and I can see my vacation days verging on the horizon.

My steps were quick as I approached her waiting patiently in the car. I raced down two flights to find her in the backseat. She looked so small in the car seat that is way too big for her.

Thankfully Alexandra is smiling. Her day was less stressful than mine.

To Chance

2008-07-03T14:25:00.006-04:00

I am three days fashionably late. It was then, at the cottage that I hugged you and wished you a happy anniversary. I went on to tease you for my present knowing very well that we had not purchased each other gifts.

With your quick wit you promised that you were going to buy me a coffee. You know the way into my heart is less than two dollars. You did not let me off the hook and wondered what you would get in return. I promised you this.

“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.”
– William Somerset Maugham

You are but a hint of the twenty three year old boy that I boldly walked up to and introduced myself to fifteen years ago. I still hear it in your laughter. I catch it in your bright smile and that mischievous spark in your eye.

You are barely the same man that I joined at the end of the aisle when I wore the white dress and made big promises to only six years ago.

It’s hard to say if it was marriage or having children that changed our relationship because we waited nine years before either. The thing that surprises me most is that I am still discovering you.

The happy chance is that six years ago there was one girl professing her love to you and now there are three.

Five

2008-06-11T07:22:00.006-04:00

A while back, Strawberry turned five. I'm still trying to find the words.

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Blog Worthy?

2008-06-06T00:54:00.007-04:00

The longer I go between posts, the harder it is getting to end this hiatus. I am constantly questioning myself... Is this blog worthy? The nattering voice at the back of my daily activities is verging on sounding as neurotic as Elaine from the Seinfeld episode "The Sponge."

It probably doesn't help that I am devoting all my computer time to my gossip addiction. My life could not come anywhere close to being as interesting as the celebrities that are dodging the paparazzi and filling the columns with their drunken debauchery. I may have to do something drastic like get a tattoo or force myself to get pregnant. Oh that Gwyneth sure has a way with words.

Thankfully I spied a challenge from Sweetney. She asked for everyone to Come As You Are. When I saw Assertagirl and Motherbumper were already on it, I knew this was a bandwagon to jump on.

Enïd could hear the sound of my camera phone snapping from her next-door office. I took the deny route when she called over, "Are you taking pictures of yourself?" There was no fooling her. She knew better because we traveled to Vancouver and Austin where she came to know my love affair with my camera. Hey, I'm not as bad as Miley. Well at least I wear more clothes. Earlier tonight there were some girls standing beside me at The Raconteurs that were preoccupied with smoking dope while taking photos of themselves rather than paying attention to the band. Now those girls definitely have more of that self-loving Miley attitude.

I am just happy that you cannot see the top of my head in this photo because I have taken an even longer hiatus from colouring my hair.

Things I've learned this week

2008-05-13T01:21:00.004-04:00

On cars

The recovery rate of stolen cars is less than 70% in Toronto. Yes bandits have made off with our car. Luckily we now have a rental while we wait the specified fifteen days before we are allowed to get a replacement. Who steals a car with two car seats? Not cool dude.

On food

If I make stuffed baked potatoes, my daughters will refuse to eat them no matter how much cheese is melted on top and even with all the yummy ingredients I throw in.
Lately I have almost become a vegetarian as I am turned off by most meat.
The longer I stay up, the more that I want to dive into chocolate.

On dreams

Strawberry giggled while she slept.
Buttercup cried out in terror "No! Nemo."
I keep dreaming that I am running either being chased or it is a race against time.

On underwear

When lounging in comfy pajamas for an extended period, I should first make sure that I am not wearing irritating underwear.
I was shocked that daycare told me that Buttercup is potty trained and ready for cotton undies. As per their request we ditched the pull-ups last week and I am doing more loads of laundry than ever. While I love that daycare has great belief in my daughter, I'm hoping that they know what they are doing because I'm losing my patience with the mess.

On happiness

Strawberry reading to me.
Buttercup cooing, "You're awesome mummy."
Binkywood gossip.

Recycled

2008-05-06T08:32:00.000-04:00

Now for the really bad joke of the day:

Why was Strawberry sad?

Because her mom was in a jam.

(Thanks. I'm here all week.)

*******************

If you are thinking about going to Blog Friends Fest, check out all the new information! Ooooh what fun... Plus there is a survey. When you add your thoughts ~ Presto ~ BFF will magically turn into the most awesome blogging haven in the East this July! Don't be scared away by my jokes. I pinky swear promise that I am much funnier after a few shots of liquor.

Two's a Charm

2008-05-04T15:08:00.004-04:00

No one promised that having babies was easy. Well maybe Paris Hilton did but she has yet to become a parent and will have a team of nannies to correct her mistakes when the time comes so we cannot go by what Paris may or may not offer up.

I have luckily already gone through the sleepless part of two and I am thrilled to pieces that we may be on the verge of being completely out of diapers. Saying things like that as part of a baby shower for some wonderful ladies that are about to give birth is about as smart as something that comes out of Paris Hilton. My apologies. Let's start this post over again.

Dear Mrs. Chicky, Mrs. Chicken and Her Bad Mother,

You are at that magical point in your family when you go from one child to two. I remember trying to get tons of special time in with my first born before the second one made her grand appearance. Little did I realize that Strawberry was not going anywhere. We still have plenty of time together to bond as I do with my youngest Buttercup. Everything seems to multiply when you add another baby to the mix. The fun, kisses and hugs, the plastic sea of toys, the laundry and the not so fun tantrums.

There is a time for adjusting to having another person in the family. These growing pains go by quickly. I barely remember how Strawberry would jump on my back and try to hug me with the tightest squeeze whenever I was holding Buttercup.

Being the older sister meant lavishing attention on the roly-poly new baby. Placing kisses on little toes can abruptly turn into a sudden jealous bite. It's confusing having this new sibling at first but the love comes rushing to the surface.

I remember worrying that if one woke up crying that the whole family would be crying a chorus of tears through the long night. Thankfully that was unnecessary worrying. I keep my children so tired that when one wakes up in the middle of the night, the other sleeps like a rock.

I quickly discovered that having two children means that you will always have at least one angel. Whenever one decides to act up, the other goes pie eyed with pure innocence and looks at the other like they could never display behaviour that naughty even if it was their turn five minutes ago.

As the little one learns all the same tricks as the first has mastered like holding their head up, sitting, talking, walking and running well then the real fun begins. Seeing my children happily play together is worth all those growing pains. Hearing my children sing together makes my heart just about explode. I can see their bond and know even though they are going to have plenty of trying arguments, there will be even more hugs. The two of them are going to be the other's anchor, cheering each other on and sticking together through thick and thin.

Life with two is a dance party. Load up your MP3 player's ladies and let the good times roll.

Warm and fuzzy

2008-05-01T07:26:00.008-04:00

Kgirl wrote 7 lbs, 7 oz about the differences she's discovered in her daughters and the perfect love that she has for both of them. She wrapped her words into such a beautiful piece that I must present to her a Perfect Post Award.

Having a child is awe-inspiring. My eyes and my heart opened. I think that in having a second child that I never realized that there would be more to discover. I probably assumed that I was doubling the love and the experience. It's within their differences that my world expands.

Over at Petroville and Suburban Turmoil you will find some of the best posts of April!

No Kisses

2008-04-26T17:15:00.001-04:00

Finally, after what feels like forever, I'm feeling better. Since I've been so run down and stressed I got not one, but two cold sores. So attractive. I want to hide in my house for a week. I'm embarrassed to even go to the coffee shop. I've been so busy that I've managed to hide behind my computer. Fortunately the awesome people that I work with have been delivering coffee and sustenance to keep me going.

I have been having a super hard time holding back the kisses to my girls. After few days of big hugs, I was struck by a revelation. I had not once stopped myself from planting a big one on my husband. While we are a touchy feely couple we are not kissy kissy. I think when I am healed, I'm going try and work on this. Kisses make everything better.

Since I am in hiding out mode, I received an advance copy of Petite Anglaise by Catherine Sanderson. I would love nothing more than to lounge in my backyard with a frosty beverage and devour this novel.

If you live in the Toronto area and would like your own copy email me at cmcreate[at]gmail[dot]com.

There is a bonus to this offer, as you will also get an invitation to a blogger's brunch launch party on Friday, June 6th. Say that three times fast and this is going to the first three people who are fast!

You can look for this book in stores as of June 17th and check out Catherine's blog petite anglaise.

The Terrorific Tantrum

2008-04-23T05:08:00.002-04:00

We started the week with a rough start. As you will soon see, that is a magnificent understatement. I was convinced that my life had turned into an Adam Sandler comedy and I have been keeping an eye out for the camera crew. This story would be funny if I wasn’t so embarrassed by my daughter’s unruly behaviour. When it's this bad, you have to laugh.

Before dawn on Monday, Buttercup woke up crying out for orange juice. I filled her request and stood beside her bed. She sleepily smiled at me, pointed and said, “I don’t like you.” This was a warning sign of things to come.

Later that morning, I couldn’t get anything right. Buttercup was getting more agitated. She wanted cereal but after seeing Strawberry’s pancake, she changed her mind even though she was close to finishing her breakfast. When it came time to leave the house she broke out the waterworks and tried to run and hide from me. I had to carry her to the garage and go back to lock up the house. Back at the car she had upset Strawberry with her loud display of protest. I found them both in tears.

For the life of me I could not get her to sit in her car seat to do up her seat belt. I drove the car out of our garage so that I could park in the lane way in order to manipulate the little monster. While I was driving she reached from her seat behind me and wrapped her hands around my neck and started strangling me.

I quickly pulled over and got out of the car. Hysteria had set in. There was nothing that I could do to punish her without sending both girls into a state of horror. I couldn’t get Buttercup to calm down. I tried every trick that previously had worked and nothing was flying except for the snot.

About twenty-five minutes of this and I had only managed to do the top strap of her belt. Thinking this was going to be as good as it gets, I decided to drive. I could hear her struggling and Strawberry animatedly let me know that she had pulled a Houdini. I stopped on a side road and ding, ding, ding: round two begins.

Top strap done up, I pull away on to a main street to be met with the same fate. I pull over even though this street is a high traffic area. I take Buttercup out of the car where we stand by her door on the road. She wraps her legs around me and clings like glue. Somehow I get her back into her seat and we are motoring again.

I pull up to Strawberry’s school very tardy. While I’ve separated myself from this disaster scene, both my girls are distraught. I try to offer hugs but the fight continues. Buttercup is trying to run away from me so I pick her up like a football. One of Strawberry’s good friends happens to arrive at the same time and they hold hands all the way to the office to get their late slips.

After I’ve hugged my four year old and sent her off to learn all the wonders of Junior Kindergarten, I try again to calm down my two year old. We stand outside the school and I become the negotiator. I am talking her down with distraction tactics. Finally I win and she lets me carry her a few blocks to her daycare. Her face is nuzzled into my neck the whole way. After giving her plenty of hugs and kisses while I offer explanations regarding her state to the caregivers, she looks up to me with the weight of sadness in her eyes. She doesn’t want me to leave.

And so, began our week.

Surprisingly the next morning everyone was a picture of happiness.

I don’t know how much more of two that I can take.

Evidence

2008-04-16T21:21:00.008-04:00

She came to the city.

So we showed her a good time.

We had to share stories.

We took this time to bond.

We might have had a couple drinks.

They graciously smiled while my flash blinded these lovelies.

One of the most popular drinks of the night was Perrier.

The memories will last longer this way and the photos are worth a million bucks!

Sorry that I didn't capture all the beauties!

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The Red Folder

2008-04-11T04:03:00.004-04:00

When I'm away from the office I like to imagine that the whole place is going to fall apart without me. Sometimes my self importance barely fits through the door! I hold my role with high regard and often need a pat on the back even if it is just me doing awkward yoga positions. I usually don't talk about work in this space so please excuse me while I butter up my very important career.

On the occasion when I have to call in sick, I worry about everyone at the office. I don't want the staff to feel overwhelmed yet I want everything to run smoothly like a well oiled machine. I have to consider that I have the executives to report to about my department.

I have long ago learned how to delegate but there are still certain tasks that I manage with a meticulous procedure. I have three immediate deadlines coming up on big projects and it was a rough time to be away. On Monday, I had to force myself through one task even though I was feeling completely ill. Once I completed my pressing responsibilities I made my way home. However, pushing myself on Monday made it next to impossible for me to move my germ ridden, weak body the next day.

While I recuperated there was still the nagging guilt of being away during a crunch period. On Wednesday I did not feel any improvement but I couldn't be away any longer. I dragged my sorry butt back to work. In my mind I had already began prioritizing my tasks. When I walked into my office I noticed a new red folder sitting beside my computer. My heart dropped. I was worried that another urgent project would have to be added to my list. I picked it up and it had my name written on it.

A huge sigh of relief! Maybe it's someone's birthday and this was just a card being circulated. Maybe there will be cake! I might have the flu but I can always enjoy a slice of chocolate celebration.

Little did I suspect upon opening the red folder that I was in for a real treat.

Oh, I love my work! Katharine is hilarious and I really think she should have her own blog. While I may have missed an impromptu visit from my boyfriend, John Mayer, I managed to get front row center tickets for the next time he's scheduled to come to Toronto! For real! Front row, center! Gah. I need to leash up my inner teenage girl hysteria.

By the way, did you know that I am part of a triple threat dishing up celebrity gossip in Binkywood? It is so much fun. Those crazy celebrities make it super easy for us. I'm such a geek that I really feel an overwhelming desire to comment on every single one of these gossip posts... "First!"

Plus it's just a hop, skip and jump over to a rockin Playdate. It's all new and shiny and the liquor is flowing!

The Death of Me

2008-04-08T13:12:00.002-04:00

They know when we are weak. They sense it. They smell it. Their instincts hone in and they know their mission. Make mommy crack.

I shouldn’t really say they. I’m not referring to both of my lovely daughters. No Strawberry was listening to me with the utmost grace. It was Buttercup in all her terrible two-year-old toddler glory. She is well on her way to three so you could say she is an expert at these two-year-old shenanigans.

We had concert tickets to see Nada Surf but I had come down with the flu. We cancelled the sitter and Colin left me alone with the girls. I can barely move from the horizontal position. Every bone in my body throbs with intense awareness. My mind is so foggy that I see clouds in my living room. That could be the reason I agree to let them watch my nemesis, the My Little Pony video. Pinkypie shoots rainbows from her butt to save Unicornicopia. Good times.

The video ends and I turn the TV off. The lights are dimmed. Colin had suggested that they would easily fall asleep on the sofa while I surf the web. That would be easy like climbing Mount Everest, right?

Buttercup gets up from her chair and goes to the corner. “I don’t like you Mommy.” She hides behind the furniture and starts pretend sobbing looking for a reaction. I take Strawberry to the kitchen to wash the unknown, unnerving rash that has recently broken out on her face. Buttercup continues to throw her tantrum. I tell her we are going upstairs and that she can come too. She however is enjoying her emotional release behind the furniture and decides to carry on.

I tuck Strawberry in bed. I make my way back down to the screaming banshee in the living room. I lure Buttercup out with her favourite thing in the whole world. Orange juice. The crying turns into whimpering. I know that the juice is not a great idea being that she’s had an upset stomach but it was the only thing she’d fall for. She tells me that she’s made another poo. “A Big One.” She doesn’t want to go upstairs because that means bedtime and there is no tricking her. She’s back to full on scream crying as I carry her up the stairs. As we go by Strawberry’s room I can see that she’s already fallen asleep. The protesting wails do not disturb her.

I clean Buttercup and give her new pajamas. I put her in her bed and let her cry. You’d think a few minutes of this would tire her out and she would be fast on her way to la la land but no.

Before the neighbors call child services I go back in. I try to calm her down and I rock her and sing and she thankfully turns down the volume on her sobbing. I see that there is no way that she’s going to sleep any time soon. I know that there is no fight in me so I gather up her most loved stuffed animals her pink kitty Curtsy and her panda bear Shanghai. I take the orange juice that she has not yet sipped and we head downstairs. Normally at this point we would curl up on my bed where I’d fall asleep before her but I figure that my room is infected with one million flu germs and the last thing that I need is for this bug to infect my whole family.

I resign that we will watch some television. Hopefully all the hooking up that’s going on at Paradise Hotel won’t scar her for life. Buttercup is restless and she’s fidgeting around. She’s singing commercials. Pretty much she’s doing everything she can to keep herself awake. I’m fading. My patience has disintegrated. I need sleep but what do I do with this ball of energy? She tells me that she’s made another big one. I carry her back upstairs. I wipe away the explosion; a new diaper; a third pair of pajamas. I tell her to stay in her bed and I’ll be right back.

I take my time in the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of apple juice and took some nighttime cold pills. I can hear Buttercup calling for me. Every other child in the entire world has been asleep for hours. I go back to her.

I hold her and I sing a few lullabies. I tuck her into her toddler bed. I snuggle her stuffed animals in next to her. She throws them out of her bed. Buttercup begs to go back downstairs. I insist that it’s bedtime and that mommy is going to bed too. She asks for daddy. Finally she shows the first signs that she might be ready for slumber. I leave her cooing and go to my room where I fall into a deep sleep myself.

Hey, who turned out the lights?

2008-03-29T14:01:00.006-04:00

On Thursday, Strawberry came home from school visibly upset.

"Mom, Mom. One of the big kids told us that all the polar bears are going to DIE."

We sat down and talked about how the earth was getting warmer which causes the ice at the Arctic to melt. I told her that the polar bears need ice or else they get really, really, super tired from swimming because they are trying to find some ice to rest on. It is getting hard for the polar bears to find ice when it is melting away. I went on to explain that one of the things that help to stop this is by being careful with how we use electricity.

We talked about Earth Hour and how everyone today at 8 P.M. is turning out their lights to make a big difference. Of course if we really want to help save the polar bears, we always have to make sure that we don't leave lights on in rooms when we don't need them.

Since then she's been running around the house making sure that everything is turned off. Forever more we will be sitting in the dark with just the glow from the television because obviously the polar bears want us to be watching TV.

Celebrate the Moments of Your Life

2008-03-28T14:53:00.004-04:00

A crazy lady
Feeling confrontational
That's the way I am.

Emotional mess
Too easily distracted
That's the way I am.

Another coffee
A few minutes to myself
Back to being me!

March Bender

2008-03-25T01:45:00.004-04:00

I had every intention of blogging through SXSW this year but then I decided not to take my computer with me. Miraculously I survived almost five whole days without the internet. Withdrawal from not being attached to my email ~~plenty of free drinks~~ left me woozy but my time was packed full of fine fun.

Texas was blazing hot! Let me tell you that rock and roll marinated in booze, BBQ and heat does not smell so pretty. However there really is no other place in the world like Austin during SXSW. The sounds of guitars come at you from every direction. The energy is dynamic. Scheduling which bands that I wanted to see was trickery particularly on the Friday evening.

I made a last minute attempt to connect my newly upgraded cell phone into Twitter but success was not mine. Instead I text messaged Colin. I think he enjoyed playing secretary by recording my updates. (Thanks Hun!) Like the time that I went to The Velveeta Room to hear a singer songwriter from Vancouver and who ended up at our table but Elijah Wood! He has very stunning, pretty features. He seemed spectacularly sweet, taking time to pose for photos with numerous women. If you'd like my take on the music from the festival check out Pop Rocks.

The icing on the cake was when I enjoyed dining on Mexican food with honest to goodness, divine Texans, Kyla and Julie and another Canadian gal NotSoSage! I was full of beans and over the moon. Put a few bloggers around a table and you have the most stimulating conversation on a whole slew of subjects from politics to celebrities and everything in-between.

This past weekend I got to share some imported beverages with Metro Mama and our spouses before we spent an evening with the Foo Fighters. Not only are they one of the best bands in the universe, but Dave Grohl is a witty genius. The last time that I had the pleasure of having a conversation with Dave was back in 1999, but I think we were meant to be best friends.

Other than all the music, drinks and sweet blogger merriment that has filled my days, I also joined in on concocting ways to have more, more, more... Two brilliant friends and I opened some wine and shared laughter while we thought of a way that will make a weekend in July the ticket to so many smiles that I anticipate the possibility of a few new wrinkles from incredible happiness.

That is the kind of glow that you don't want to wipe away with botox. Blog Friends Fest is open to all, plus smiles are free so please say that you are in!

Hoping the Muffins are Tasty

2008-03-12T05:41:00.006-04:00

The chef hats were created with mad skills by NotSoSage.

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Stop Snow Stop

2008-03-10T19:07:00.005-04:00

A couple weeks ago I made a last minute call to schedule a hair appointment. My rocking stylist, Deby was fully booked. My hair, which I lovingly refer to as horsehair or wire, grows like a weed. It had been far too long since my last cut. I did not want to go with anyone else so I called back later and scheduled my overdue appointment for this past Saturday.

When I woke up to another blizzard, I sat on the edge of my seat waiting for the phone to ring. It did. My telepathy was in overdrive. I was faced with the dilemma to cancel or switch stylists. The decision was made even more difficult knowing that I wanted a major change and was petrified to let the scissors fall where they may. However if I put it off any longer there was a good chance that I'd be hacking it off myself. My hair went below my bra strap and every time I leaned back in my chair I felt the pull of my heavy mane.

They booked me in with a stylist who I have used before. I nervously drove through the fluffy white falling snow and searched for a spot to park between the buried cars. In my purse I carried a photo that I was hoping would resemble my new hair.

At the salon I discovered that my backup stylist was overbooked. A girl that I had never seen before was waiting for me. Oh well, hair grows back. It couldn't possibly turn out as bad as Ruth's friend right? Yah that was a good post to read before this turn of events.

I walked into the salon with my freshly washed, perfected split end frizz.

I emerged with my new sassy, scrunched curls. What freedom! I want to shake my head like a shampoo commercial.

Disaster avoided! I even managed to make it home through the horrible weather without getting the car stuck.

On a side note, I seem to be missing most of my anniversaries. For example thirteen posts ago I hit the 300 mark. Four days ago this blog was officially two years old. In two days from now, I leave all this snow for a warmer cowboy climate. Today however I've spun around the sun 37 times. I think that calls for some spicy tuna rolls!

Drum Roll Please

2008-03-05T21:08:00.004-05:00

A special thank you to Eugene and Enïd, the Director of cue cards, everyone who entered and Picnik for giving me something to give away. Congrats to the winners!

Word (Full) Less

2008-03-05T02:50:00.008-05:00

It is a funny thing that as soon as I say that I am going to stay away from writing for a short spell, words have a way of finding me.

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A time limited offer, but wait that's not all!

2008-03-03T08:24:00.006-05:00

I interrupt this self imposed blogging vacation and I come bearing gifts. If you are reading this you deserve…

A New Car!

(That was to be read in your best Price is Right voice.)

Alas, I don't even have a new car so how about a way to have more fun with your photos. I have two, three month Premium Picnik packages to give away. Picnik is super easy to use. I first discovered it through Facebook and immediately set up an account. I later realized that it is Flickr's editing tool which makes me want to edit every single picture that I put up on Flickr. Heck it even works with photobucket, Picasa and webshots.

It is the super fast way to get rid of those evil red eyes, crop, intensify your colours, style it with sepia or go black and white with a quick click. They have more fonts than you'd imagine. You can even whiten teeth and get rid of blemishes. (Not that you'd need to.) That feature worked in wiping away the cheesecake from Buttercup's mouth. Who needs washcloths when you have Picnik?

Personally I love to add drop borders. I think it really makes pictures leap off the screen. Now you know that I have been taking a break so that I can take more photos and muck around with them. For example, this weekend Strawberry decided it was Rarity's birthday. We had to style all her ponies' hair for the party. I decided to give them Amy Winehouse do's.

If you'd like to try out Premium Picnik just leave a comment and I will randomly draw two winners and announce them on Wednesday. You could give me a caption for the above photo. Or tell me if you too seem to have blood shot eyes after you get out of the shower. Or tell me what you think the right age is for children to cut their own meals with a knife because I have no idea.

Bottled Up

2008-02-28T13:16:00.003-05:00

I took all my thoughts and put them into a bottle. It was floating in the ocean until a giant whale came along and swallowed it. They now sit idle in a whale's belly. Sorry whale for causing you indigestion or constipation.

I have been fighting the urge to put everything into draft mode and go quietly into the night but that would not be conducive to having more fun with some of my favourite people. Plus I'm thinking of Posey.

Here's to hoping that regular posting will resume in good time.

A Loaf of Bread, a Container of Milk and a Stick of Butter

2008-02-20T17:34:00.000-05:00

This is what happens when I should join in on Wordless Wednesday but instead go the route of rambling. It seems that I am slightly manic. I have a persistent, mild headache that feels like I have drank thirty cups of coffee on two hours of sleep. Not so.

I am feeling the itch for something new. I need to mix in spice. There is a fiery craving for change. I imagine this is the state that drove Britney to shave her head. It is a good thing I am not in need of rehab.

I desperately need to switch to the unappetizing "KH diet" while hitting the gym for intense workouts for the next twenty days straight but that is not likely to happen. I will be breaking out the summery clothes in Austin for SXSW. It will be a sweet change of scenery especially being that it will not stop snowing in Toronto. Every time I venture outside it is snowing. Right now… Snowing.

I took the girls grocery shopping on Monday and then we went to rent a pony video because I obviously enjoy strange forms of torture even though I protest loudly. There was a special moment that I etched to my memory as I held each of their small hands and made our way walking in the freshly falling fluffy snow.

I let them torment Colin with the pony escapades while I cooked dinner. We ate our plateful of creamy carbs and then the girls helped me make mini blueberry muffins for room nine's bake sale. Strawberry topped each muffin with an extra blueberry chanting, "One for me, one for the muffin." I felt all warm and fuzzy. It was a splendid way to mark the first official Ontario family day!

The other thing making me smile is that within twenty four hours, ten people from all different parts of North America stopped by this post to find out how race car drivers relieve themselves. I am no authority on such matters. For the record, I personally have a bladder of steel and can go nine hours without having to make a pit stop. Of course that is only if I have not been hanging out with blogging friends pounding back beverages causing tipsiness. With that said, I would not be partaking in any race car events after that kind of fun. **No cars have actually been raced by me.

Heart Warming

2008-02-14T08:08:00.002-05:00

Oh most beautiful Internets,

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

You are always there. As if by magic, you know exactly what I need. You lift me up when I am feeling low. You wrap me in comfort with acceptance. I am never alone because somewhere out there you are sitting and staring back at the glow of a computer screen. Somehow you stumbled your way here and then sometimes you even make your back!

For that I give you my undying love.

xoxo...

That makes me feel a bit dirty. What is this blog turning into? Oh my!

Okay, this one is a little more heartwarming.

I am Canadian

2008-02-13T00:52:00.004-05:00

The bitter cold, drifting snow turned my fifteen minute drive home into a ninety minute stressful, snow rage, cursing session.

Moondial

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