You know those questions your kids ask? Like “Can I have a candy?” or “Can I watch TV?” The questions to which you know you should say “no” but so often end up caving? If you are like me you usually pretend you didn’t hear them and hope that the asker will get distracted or forget that they had asked and you won’t have to be the bad guy yet again.
Then you realize that this is about as likely as magically waking up tomorrow morning twenty pounds lighter.
I hate those questions.
Today is my husband’s favourite day of the week. No, not Wednesday. It’s the day when I call him and say “Oh. My. God. I’m going to murder the children.” Some days he is sympathetic and tries to help me cope without spazzing out. Other days he recognizes the futility of that course of action and just says “Don’t get any blood on the carpet.” I think today is one of the latter. Because I am on more ear shattering scream away from stabbing a knitting needle through my head. Not that I own a knitting needle. But you get the picture.
Kieran has a cold and is getting teeth of all shapes and sizes and is just generally miserable and the wailing, it never stops. Ever. He is having trouble sleeping and wants to be held and not held at the same time and is just grumpy as hell. Being the good mother that I am, I have been exceedingly patient equally cranky.
Avery is either going through what I like to call “a phase” (in order to have to avoid accepting the fact that whatever annoying thing she is currently doing is a result of bad parenting or a flaw in her personality). One of her current “quirks” includes random yelling, just because she likes the sound of her voice and why shouldn’t everyone around her be treated to the pleasure of hearing it at its full volume? Also, I am getting a lot of whining. A. Lot. Of. Whining. I can’t help but feel that this is somehow karma’s way of biting me in the ass but people? It is getting to me. And the constant demanding. And the ensuing whining when the demands aren’t met.
You might think that the kids would be more cheerful after a nice nap. But you would be so very, very wrong. Besides, Kieran is only napping long enough to save up enough energy for more hours of screaming (which is about 10 minutes, if you were wondering). Any sleep that happens after that point only happens when I am rocking him.
Let me give you an illustration of what kind of day it’s been. I half made a pan of rice krispie square earlier today. Why half? Because after I got all the marshmallows melted and everything else ready I pulled out the cereal…oh no, wait, I didn’t. Because I didn’t HAVE any rice krispies. Who would think that you need them for a recipe entitled RICE KRISPIE SQUARES anyway???
And have I mentioned that our dryer isn’t working? And after our landlord came to check that it was, indeed, not working, he has since been unreachable. So we’ve had no dryer for a week and don’t know how long we will be without said dryer. Today I am borrowing the neighbour’s clothesline to dry a couple of loads because we are starting to get desperate. But the fact that my landlord has not returned a single one of the 87 messages we’ve left in the past seven days is really pissing me off. I don’t mind waiting when I know that something is being done. I do mind when I suspect that the person who is supposed to be making sure my living quarters are in good repair is screening their calls and sipping on margaritas on their patio.
On the upside no dryer means no lint. This is a good thing because we recently realized that the treasure who lives downstairs has been using the garbage can (which is used almost exclusively to collect lint from the dryer) as a place to drop her extinguished cigarettes!
I know!
That’s what I said!
Apparently no one has informed her that dryer lint is possibly the most flammable substance on the face of the planet. But then, we’ve already noticed that she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
Listen, I know it will get better. Tomorrow they will probably be much more tolerable. But today? Oh. My. God. I’m going to murder the children.
PS – That title is a direct quote from a Russell Peters sketch which, if you haven’t seen, you must go watch. Immediately. I’m not joking. Go. Hi-freaking-larious!
Diet coke was the one thing that I could enjoy basically guilt free and the Globe and Mail has to go and ruin it for me. Damn you and your conscientious reporting! Not that I have ever believed that diet drinks were somehow going to magically make me lose Weight. But at least I could feel morally superior in that I wasn’t drinking a bucket of sugar. Now I’m in a bad mood. Stupid effing newspaper.
If you’ve never listened to any music by The Arrogant Worms, it’s time you did. They write a lot of funny songs but here is one I heard for the first time just recently:
Billy solves his problems by calling up his Mom
Heather solves her problems with drugs and alcohol
Daniel solves his problems with a doctor and the law
But Malcom’s got his own way and it’s better than them all‘Cause Malcolm solves his problems with a chainsaw
‘Cause Malcolm solves his problems with a chainsaw
‘Cause Malcolm solves his problems with a chainsaw
and he never has the same problem twiceWhether it’s a bill or a cheque arriving late
Rancid marble cheese or a steak that’s second rate
Awful TV programs or a broken Elvis plate
Or his fiancee who dumps him because he’s gaining Weight‘Cause Malcolm solves his problems with a chainsaw
‘Cause Malcolm solves his problems with a chainsaw
‘Cause Malcolm solves his problems with a chainsaw
and he never has the same problem twicevruum vruum (with accompanied screaming)
Problem solved.
If only life were so uncomplicated.
As the water was draining from the bathtub tonight Avery was left for a minute while the hubby dried off the other rugrat. Upon his return he discovered Avery playing with mommy’s razor. And shaving. Her face. Awesome. After checking to make sure there were no fatal wounds, he asked her if her face hurt at all because it looked a little red…
Avery: But Daddy I can’t see there!
Daddy: Nobody can see their own face.
Avery:Â BUT I WANT TO SEE THERE!!!!
Mommy: You can look in the mirror and see your face.
Aver: *Chin quivering*Â I DON’T WANT TO LOOK IN THE MIRROR I WANT TO SEE IT WITH MY EYES!Â
Daddy:Â But…
Avery: *Commence wailing and full blown sobfest* BUT I WAA–AAAANNT TO SEEEEEE IT WITH MY EEEEEEYES!!!!!!!!!
And then we laughed at her for a long time. And kept reminding her that she can’t see her own face. Because we’re really good parents. She continued to weep and scream in frustration about this specific problem until well after she was dried off. It is kind of unusual for her to flip out over something so completely arbitrary but that’s what happens when you wake up at the crack of dawn each and every bloody morning. When I told her she needed to settle down she started to jump around like she was possessed by the devil, all red in the face and arms flailing wildly. I asked her what she was doing and she looked at me, her face bright pink and tears rolling down her cheeks and squeezed out “I’m trying to take a DEEP BREATH!” Then she fell to the floor half laughing, half crying and rolling around like a person having a charismatic religious experience. It was truly bizarre but thoroughly entertaining. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go antagonize her some more just to see the show again.
I was doing a bit of blog-hopping today and landed here where I read until I was too choked up to read anymore. This woman lost her daughter (who looks not much older than mine) just recently. She also has a younger daughter (not much older than my son). It is absolutely heartwrenching. It was one of those moments when my heart seizes with the realization that the same thing could so easily happen to me. The panic that follows is almost paralyzing. I’m not a terribly overprotective mother but in those moments I want to hold my children close and never let them out of my sight for a second. But the truth is that we all take those chances. Every day we take chances. Certain risks are expected of us by society, like allowing our kids to go to school alone for the first time. Others are personal choices, wise or unwise – step out of the bathroom for a minute while they’re in the bath, run inside to grab the phone when they are playing in the back yard, leave them in the car for a minute when we dash into the store. My God, the possibilities for tragedy are endless.
I have often said that with all that takes place to “build” a human being in utero it is amazing that any children are born without defects. That most of us are born with all our parts in order seems astonishingly unlikely. But that so many of us make it through life without a fatal disaster, disease or accident befalling us seems equally unlikely. Tragedy is so pervasive. How do we make it through a day in one piece? Call it luck, karma, God, it is still amazing. We try to make good choices as parents but sometimes that isn’t enough to protect our children and sometimes we don’t succeed in making good choices. What can we do? I guess we hope for the best, try to do better, and when someone else is the unlucky one we hold them and comfort them and remind ourselves to do the best we can and pray that next time it won’t be us.
I just tried to write a post for an hour straight and all that came out was BORING. Really. Brutally and mind numbingly dull and stale as three week old bread. And because I love you and don’t want you to fall asleep at the keyboard while reading this I have decided to spare you. I think I’m having a breakdown from the pressure of the new blog and that retarded Google analytics program that my husband got me hooked on. I spend more time than I’d like to admit looking at where my readership is coming from (I say that like there’s more than five of you) and how long they spend here and which pages they read. It’s making me nervous.  And when I’m nervous I write like I’m in grade five. It’s not cool. Keep checking back. I’ll write as soon as I can not have a fit of narcolepsy every time-
*Thump
It’s come to my attention that there are some issues with the archives that’s partly due to exporting it all from Live Journal and partly due to a bug in the code of my wordpress theme. I’m trying to get my husband to fix that. Hopefully it will be working properly soon.
I got this meme from Swistle and I thought it was pretty hilarious. The instructions are as follows: Write a paragraph about your life in the style of what you might read in your alumni newsletter – extra enthusiastic and unreasonably bubbly. Then write a second paragraph in a more candid (and probably funnier) style.
Here’s what I came up with:
Shannon and Colin are currently residing in London, Ontario where Colin is enjoying the challenges of doing his MBA at the Richard Ivey School of Business. They were blessed with a daughter in 2003 and a son in 2006 – the perfect family! Shannon is thrilled to be staying at home to nurture her children and enjoys many opportunities to teach and admonish them in the ways of the Lord. The family is enjoying their time in London but also looking forward to a wonderful future in a new city at the end of Colin’s schooling in May and are eagerly anticipating making many new friends!
…and now, real life…
Shannon and Colin are currently living in the muggy armpit of Ontario where Colin has sold his soul to the Richard Ivey School of business for a freaking lot of money and mountains of schoolwork that are bigger than Kilimanjaro and take him away from home 20 hours a day. Their daughter, born in 2003 had enough colic to last any couple a life time but that didn’t stop their son, born in 2006, from following his sister’s lead. And if one more person tells Shannon that one boy child and one girl child equals the “perfect family” Shannon will kick their ass! We had babies because we wanted babies (albeit not colicky ones), not because we wanted a freaking catalogue photo! Shannon usually loves her kids but would gladly trade them in for a couple who didn’t wake up before sunrise every. single. morning. If we make it through one day without any major bodily harm to mother or children then we call it successful parenting. The family can’t WAIT to get out of here, just to live in a house that we own, where the water is not full of lead, and where Colin and Shannon can see each other for more than ten minutes a day!
Ah-hem. That was fun. 
Have I mentioned that I totally adore RLP? If only all religious people could be so thoughtful and genuinely humble about their views we might just manage to avoid killing so many people over ridiculous arguments. That kind of theology is totally sexy.
