Many of you have asked to see the picture of my daughter’s teacher daughter with Santa and I just wanted to say that it is coming. After a short trip out of state I am now at home with family visiting for the holidays and posting may continue to be sparse for a bit. Back to your regularly scheduled blog reading soon!
Dec
10
It’s time for a bullet post. Sorry. If you don’t like it you can come back another day!
- I think I have the only five year old in THE WORLD who is afraid of Santa. I know, I know, just weeks ago I was saying she’s about to blow the lid off the whole Santa story. But she seems to have embraced her belief for the time being and that belief includes sheer terror at the thought of the Jolly Old Elf. When she was 2 and 3 years old this terror made a little more sense. But at five I thought we would be able to reason through the whole thing a little better. When I was a child I had my picture taken on Santa’s lap every year from birth to maybe 8 or 9 years old. But I have not been able to convince my daughter to sit on Santa’s lap one. single. time. This year her school (for some bizarre reason) had a Santa come to the school and the kids were allowed to have pictures taken with him. Avery told me she most definitely did NOT want to do this. No matter how much we discussed it, tried to assuage her fears, and tried to figure out just what kind of unholy atrocities she expected to experience while sitting on the lap of a mythical gift-bringing creature, she would not give in. So I wrote a note to her teacher explaining her apprehension and that she was not to be traumatized by standing beside Santa for a picture unless she changed her mind. Well, bless the teacher’s heart, when Avery’s turn came, she held her hand and walked her up to Santa and even stood with her. So I’m not sure if we’re going to be sent home a picture of our daughter’s kindergarten teacher or if she jumped out at the last second. But either way, it’s a small victory for confidence!
- Age two has descended upon our household with the vengeance of a…well… a rabid, drooling two year old. Where two year old equals screaming defiance, stubborn refusal to let sustenance pass his delicate lips, stamping, time-outs, shrieking, climbing, hysterical wailing with a healthy second helping of OMG THE STUBBORNNESS!
- Today I helped with a PTA fundraiser at Avery’s school which mostly involved wrapping dollar-store presents that the kids were purchasing for family. Can I just say that a two foot long back scratcher is a bitch to wrap!!! And I had the distinct pleasure of wrapping at least a dozen of them. Also? Five year olds have NO CONCEPT of buying gifts for anyone other than themselves, the little narcissists. I can’t tell you how many kids the adults had to gently explain that they had not been given ten bucks to blow on themselves, but to buy for their family members. And still, almost every one of the little narcissists came through the “check-out” with something for him/herself. Five year olds are also utterly incapable of any real thought regarding appropriate gifts for people. To my family coming for Christmas: be prepared to smile in appreciation for pencils that say “#1 Teacher”!
- It is a fact that if I walk into a salon I will ALWAYS get the stylist who I deem to have the worst haircut/style and will therefore, in my mind, give me a bad haircut/style. But sometimes I am lucky enough to be wrong and get a sweet cut by a large, Hungarian woman with a rat’s nest on her head.
- Starting tomorrow I will have houseguests every day for the next 18 days except for the 3 days we will be gone on a short vacation. So posting may be a bit sporadic while I’m busy entertaining drinking partying overeating celebrating. Happy Holidays!
Oct
24
Oy. I have been meaning to write all week! But what with the very serious business of having coffee breaks and sitting around girl-talking and shopping…well, there just aren’t enough hours in the day! We have two years of face-to-face time to make up for!
Major moment of the week: My daughter told her auntie (my visiting best friend) that she KISSED A BOY IN HER CLASS!!! I suspect this is the first of many moments when I lament that this is exactly the kind of thing you don’t tell your mom. And then I may have shed a tear or two. Because really? She’s chasing and kissing boys in he class? I was so NOT that kid. And she is so much like me that I expect her to be exactly like me. But she is that kid. So we had to have a talk about personal boundaries and the appropriate amount of contact between classmates. And NOT KISSING ANYMORE BOYS UNTIL SHE’S 45.
More on this later. I’ll be back soon. Cheers!
Sep
10
FYI: If you happen to have recently purchased a rocking pair of super cute ballet flats you need to be patient while breaking them in. Start with short periods of wear and gradually work your way up to a longer amount of time until you can finally wear them all day without discomfort.
Or you could wear them for the 1.2 mile walk to and from your daughter’s school first thing in the morning. This will result in quarter sized blisters on each baby toes plus a couple on your heels for good measure, thus ensuring that you will not be wearing the adorable new shoes for quite some time. Damn it.
I officially designate September the month of the flip flop, since that’s all I’ll be able to wear for at least two weeks while my feet heal.
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I’ve officially been waterworked, just like Anne Nahm, who I love.
I seriously don’t get some people or why they act like complete and total jackasses. But yesterday I had my first taste of the Asshole Parent Smackdown.
When I was dropping off Avery for school another parent started chatting with us about kindergarten and immediately asked which class Avery is in. I told her we were in Mrs. B’s class and… you know what’s coming right? She immediately launches into a diatribe about Mrs. M and how it was just too bad that we didn’t get Mrs. M who is wonderful and fabulous and got a teach-of-the-year award and who shoots rainbows out of her backside.
All in front of my daughter.
I was appalled at her complete lack of courtesy! Who puts down a little kid’s KINDERGARTEN TEACHER in front of the child????
Never mind the fact that we had no choice of teachers. Or the fact that I wouldn’t have known which teacher is “better” since we just moved to town. Or the fact that I might not even agree with YOUR evaluation. Or that I can’t change classes now, even if I wanted to. Or that you scoring a supposedly better teacher is in no way a reflection of your superiority as a person.
I tried to salvage the conversation by enthusiastically gushing “Well! We are already SUCH BIG FANS of Mrs. B, aren’t we Avery?! Avery is just LOVING her class!”
My comment didn’t even register. The woman just continued to babble about Mrs. M and then proceeded to say that Mrs. B lacks patience! In front of my kid! Seriously! Who does that?
Here’s hoping that they teach manners in kindergarten. Maybe the kids can explain to their parents how to interact politely with the other mommies and daddies. Or at least how not to be a judgemental asshole. Kindergarten is all about LIFE SKILLS, people!
Sep
3
Guess who has just been unwittingly enrolled in a rather intensive exercise program? Oh…that would be me! The new owner renter of a house at the beach and eleventy million pretty stairs! Guess who hasn’t lived in a multi-level house in a while? Hello, that would be me again!
Our garage is at street level so we have to climb a dozen steps to get to our front door and there are about 15 steps between the first and second floors. Do you know how many times a day I go up and down those steps? Enough to constitute an exercise program, that’s how many.
If you’re looking for me, I’ll be the one with sand in my teeth and the sweet, muscular calves.
Aug
21
What I’d like to know is what does this say about the reliability of eye witness testimony?
Aug
19
So after I ranted about ringtones the other day my hubby took pity on my technologically ignorant self and helped me scour the internets for an acceptable ring that didn’t sound… well … in a word, stupid.
I was extremely tempted use the Yip Yips saying “brrrrrrrrrIIIIINNGGGG!” because I am ALL ABOUT Sesame Street …
But I decided that would make me want to beat my cell to death with a heavy blunt object as much as a pop song after a couple of rings while.
Dan had commented that the ring of an old school rotary dial phone would be cool and I thought that idea was inspired. So the hubby found me a variety of ringtones that sounded all old school. And some of them were all kinds of annoying and others were 57 kinds of stupid. But we found one that I didn’t hate and sounded like a phone and not a rock concert or a dying wind chime or an animal safari. Yay!
We found a couple ringtones that you probably haven’t heard before and will make you laugh. Check it out: Excuse me Ma’am, Homey at the Gunfight, Who let the hogs out, and the Goat (soooo tempting!).
Aug
17
I have this little hair problem. And I don’t mean that in the “I’m having a bad hair day” kind of way. It’s been a problem since I had kids and there doesn’t seem to be a styling product around that can deal with it.
Every day I wash my hair and blow it dry with a hair dryer. And EVERY DAY it turns out looking like this:
Please try to ignore the big frown and my pasty white face. I had to concentrate hard to take the picture.
Do you see the problem? On my right side the hair flips under and on the left it flips out. It doesn’t matter how carefully I dry it with a rounded brush, gently coaxing it to flip under. It doesn’t matter how much mousse or other styling products I use (or don’t use). It doesn’t matter if I sing love songs or swear like a sailor. Same result.
I never had this problem before I had kids. Women often mention changes in their hair following the birth of a child. A difference in texture or even colour is not uncommon. So I am aware that it is kind of ridiculous that the even though my hair is fundamentally the same as it was pre-kids, this basically small quirk is DRIVING ME BATSHIT CRAZY.
I don’t think there’s really anything to be done about it. Just thought I’d share a random fact about myself with the internets on this fine Sunday afternoon.
***I am also aware that my hair is a good inch longer on the left side. I think the hairdresser had a seizure or something when she cut my hair. But I don’t think that should make much of a difference. I’ve had this problem longer than I’ve had this hair cut. ***
Aug
10
I wanted to publish this just to let you know that I’m not always whining things are finally looking up around here. The sea of red tape has parted (mostly) and we have been able to accomplish the following things:
* All 4 of us have family doctors/pediatricians who we will be seen by within a month or just over a month for “new patient visits”
* As I said on Friday, I was able to get into the Diabetes Centre in town and now have access to much needed prescriptions. Turns out America doesn’t want me to die after all!
* I am almost through the process of setting up two different mail-order services to send me insulin and insulin pump supplies (no more pharmacies!!!!).
* We were FINALLY able to get our money transferred from Canadian to American bank accounts (I NEVER want to do this EVER AGAIN) which means…
* We were able to pay our full deposit to our new landlords. They have been EXCEEDINGLY patient. If I were them I would have rolled my eyes and said “Whatev, DEADBEATS. I’m so giving this place to someone who has actual money (not Canadian Dollars).”
* We were able to get gas and electricity set up for our new place! A minor miracle as the company’s website is designed to entrap potential customers in a loop of entering passwords, denial of account numbers and repeated accusations (You appear to be a terrorist. Please call our customer service line for help setting up your service.).
These things matter to NO ONE except me but it’s all to say that things are looking up over here. And I haven’t had to talk to our health insurance company in TWO WHOLE DAYS!!! WOOOHOOO!
Also? It is just three weeks until we move to our new condo which is on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean! WE. ARE. SO. EXCITED. By the time we move in it will have been three months of temporary living quarters and I can’t wait to settle back in to my own home.
May
3
- It is not really “generosity” if you offer your brother your “bread peels” (crust) which you weren’t planning to eat anyway. My daughter is destined to become a politician.
- Trying to use a normal-sized public bathroom stall with a 3 year old and an almost 1 year old is really crowded and extremely difficult. It’s not easy to keep the one year old from crawling out of the stall and the 3 year old from opening the door of the stall. Also, it is EXTREMELY rude to use the handicapped stall if you are a normal, healthy person who is not toting children along. It is especially rude to use the handicapped stall if you are going to be a while. People with little children can’t usually afford to wait more than a very short time. Little bladders are not that reliable. If they need to go, they need to go NOW!
- There is a very distinct accent that people who have lived in this part of Manitoba all their lives speak with. I have noticed it before but I was just noticing it again today and it struck me as so weird! My mom has it, although I think it faded a bit by her 17 years in Saskatchewan. I don’t know if it’s because most of the people who grew up around here spoke low German as either a first or second language and heard it spoken by their parents. Or the particular way in which parents, for whom English was a second language, pronounced certain sounds. The “a”s are very long and heavy and “r”s are very pronounced. It is just enough that it stands out if you are from a different area of the country. I will be interested to see what kind of differences there are in the way people in London speak.
- Just because you make a reservation for a birthday party at McDonalds, doesn’t mean there will actually be tables reserved for you. There are no guarantees. I know that’s what you think a reservation is for. You have been misled. (This wasn’t us making a reservation, just something we witnessed while indulging in the golden arches.)
