Monthly Archives: August 2010


As a highly emotional (and carefully controlled) Cancer woman… (one, I might add, that is significantly sarcastic, wryly optimistic and short on patience for idiots)  It is with  regularity I notice that since having a baby I frequently breakdown into mini-emotional hurricanes.

They strike with no rhyme or reason. Ha! I lie! Mostly with reason.

And this weekend was no exception.

While V was trashing the upstairs, as you do when you are 2 years old and make multiple conflicting decisions in 3 seconds flat. And then cry when you don’t get your way (and which way would that be? And rightfully I am endlessly confused).

Anyways, he dragged out the diaper bag we took to Canada last June and emptied it. Not knowing there was anything to empty, I was surprised at the things he found.

1) Rather a lot of lip gloss. So that’s where it all went! I knew I had more!

2) 2 little baby utensils, one spoon and one fork. Barely used. I remember buying them for the trip, actually.

Third and finally, one bib. One little, itty bitty bib.

Whose neck would that bib even fit now? Not my child, that’s for sure. My child doesn’t wear bibs and hasn’t for a year. Since he learned to remove them. Plus he has a giant neck.

This bib was so small, I think it might have been about 1/4 of the fabric size of V’s current T-Shirt. And the velcro enclosure looked like it would surround a banana. Who has a neck the size of a banana?!

Oh. Perhaps babies.

And so last night I found it again. It went through the wash and I came across it as I was hanging V’s giant 3-T shirts up in his closet.

I picked it up, snuggled it. V read himself a story. I sniffed it. V played ‘Look and Find’ with an Elmo book. I used it to wipe up a few sad little tears that trickled down my cheek. V told me “Mummy, read book! Look at that!”. I folded it and put it up on the top shelf of his closet, to get tucked away with the other clothing he has outgrown.

I think of all the things I have put up on that shelf, that might have made my womb ache the most.

I was telling Edward about my bib encounter after V was down for the night. “Remember this?” he said while he made a cradling gesture with his arms and rocked them back and forth.

“Nope”, and then had to immediately fight back the tears. Because I can barely remember when he was that small. Each memory overrides the previous, until those memories of my wee one are faint and hard to hold onto.

However, all of those overriding memories are each, in themselves, way more awesome.

From a chubby little baby with frog-legs to a curly haired, blond, determined and extremely silly 2 year old, it just gets better and better.

Todays memory override?

Vincent picking up a banana and saying to it “Oh, banana! Nummy!” and then quickly putting it up to his ear and saying, naturally, “Hello? Hi Mummy!” while looking right at me. And then giggling.

Oh yes. This is clearly a product of Edward and I.

xoxo a.m.

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*insert adjective* day

I wonder if this will sound like I am repeating myself.

Vince is two.





And then? After all that screaming? I pulled my own hair out in the middle of CVS drugstore while wrestling my child. And then? Shortly after, I  dropped him off at daycare and went to work.

Work, honestly, was less out of control than my child. And so it was with relief that I walked into the office yesterday morning.

Let me rephrase. I am in control of my child. Or at least I am pretty sure I am. However, walking through the make-up aisle at CVS with Vince, a child who woke up at 4 am crying and screaming yesterday morning? Not the best idea. How I got out of there buying only  2 items (one of which I had actually come in for) I will never know.

I think he touched every single lipstick in the store.

Note to readers: Don’t buy lipstick at the CVS on Narcoosee.

And that was followed by “Vincent shake-shake” of all Tic-Tac packets at the till. So maybe don’t buy those either.

Anyways, I went to work. Surprisingly things were not as stressful as they were at CVS. And this was also a shocker. There are usually at least 4 emergencies during the day and at least one screamer. And then a handful of other ridiculousness. All of which was handled with aplomb. Because, to be honest, it was nothing compared to a public wrestling match with ones child.

And then a temper tantrum in the parking lot. And then a screaming fit in the car on the way to ‘school’.

Oh, and I went running before all of this happened. And the fun part was that V woke up at 4, crying, and spent an hour sleeping on top of me. Actually on me. Lying on my chest with his head snuggled in the crook of my neck.

I am glad he was sleeping. And so was Edward. Although, neither of us did and ‘apparently’ he woke the second I snuck out of the house to go running. I might as well have just blasted the alarm in his ear. I was, literally, tiptoeing down the stairs… hat in hand, carrying my socks and iphone.

My stealth tactics leave much to be desired. I clearly need to be more ninja-like.

I got a HUGE side-eye from the Mister when I got home at 6 am. And then a HUGE story about how V tantrumed until I came home.

And then I went to work. And despite all of the total chaos, typical of Wednesday, it was like a freakin’ cake walk.

We are only 2 months into 2 years old. Will 3 be any kind of inmprovement? Will it even matter at that point? How will I get through the next 10 months?

Suggestions are always welcome…

xoxo a.m.

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Big Shark

Update update!

Possible breakthrough!

Ok, the smallest possible breakthrough.

And I am attributing it all to Daycare and it’s wee potties. V’s classroom has it’s own bathroom. One for boys and girls, both with miniature potties. Cutest thing you have ever seen.

That, combined with his teachers gentle encouragement, produced this:

“Big shark poo-poo”.

Edward and I made WTF faces at each other.

Let me backtrack a little and tell you where we were eating. Carriera‘s in Lake Nona.

Their dining room has a HUGE shark on the wall, one we always have to sit under when eat there. Which is often as the food there is just amazing. AMAZING.

Well, this evening, as we were sitting under that shark, V made his announcement.

He made it several times actual. Addressed to both of us. Separately.

“Daddy, big shark poo-poos”, he said solemnly.

“Mummy? Shark! Big poo-poos!”

We took this moment and ran with it.

“Vince”, Daddy asked him “Does the shark go poo-poo on the potty?”

Vince looked at us disbelievingly “Noo..potty?”

“Vince? The big shark goes poo-poo on the potty. Just like Vincent!” said Mummy, nodding seriously while rearranging those crazy curls of his.

Edward caught my eye during this whole exchange and we both did some telepathy.

Neither of us could believe we were talking about sharks poo-pooing on the potty. I couldn’t believe V was talking about sharks pooing at all. What were we even talking about? This whole conversation is/was so ridiculous.

But at least we were talking about poo?

And so this is why I was excited.

Yay poo!!

xoxo a.m.

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Paper towel

This weekend was spent exhausting my child. Our child. I exhausted our child. Edward worked. All weekend.

And when he wasn’t working? He was working.

Edward’s weekend job switched from Friday/Saturdays to Saturday/Sundays. And this was the week where it overlapped. So E worked all weekend. And when he wasn’t physically working at the restaurant, he was at home lesson-planning for the coming week.

As a result, I didn’t see him at all. I think, in total, it might have been 2 hours over a period of 3 days. Brutal!

Which means that it was one of my ‘single parent’ weekends. I was sans partner.


For Vince? Bliss.

He played with PlayDough (Yes. I broke down and bought some). There was glitter glue. Colouring. Sidewalk chalk. Dr Philips water park with Sydney. Lunch at WholeFoods with Shannon and Syd. Tita and Errol. And hugging of both of them. Nemo. Figment. Epcot. Disney. Woody and Bullseye. Bubble-baths.

Apparently I should just run a weekend play camp for kids, we did so many things.

There were also no naps. And this allowed for bedtimes of 6 pm. Aren’t I sneaky? And he literally fell asleep 3 minutes into bedtime. He was soooooo tired.

But with each adventure we had this weekend, he pronounced it ‘fun’. And “Mummy, Vincent fun”.

Ok honey! Even though you screamed and clung to me all through DeDe’s goodbye party. And then, as we walked out of the restaurant, you proclaimed “Party fun”. Repeatedly.

And with every successive adventure this weekend, when fun was waning, you stepped up and told me how much you liked it. How ‘fun’ it was. Regardless of it’s actual ‘fun’ quota.

Darling Sweet Pea, you confuse me. I am pretty sure it’s because you are two. And if that’s true (which it is), then I now understand your initial love interest with play-dough and subsequent hatred of it.

And your initial love of sidewalk chalk and, again, subsequent hatred of it.

And your love of “Doggie Mooooovie” (Bolt) and then hatred. This could be repeated a million times with ‘Cars’, ‘Wall-E’, ‘Nemo’ and all the ‘Toy Story’ movies.

Darn toddlers. So troublesome and so worth all the trouble.

Even when, say, you are in the middle of removing your contact lenses and they grab a roll of paper towels that you just happened to leave for one moment in your bedroom. And then they run and unravel that roll down the hallway while you are in the middle of removing your right contact lense.

And then? Once those lenses are stored? You run away from me, tearing small pieces of paper towel apart in your path.

Oh god. How I nearly lost my sanity.

Thank god it was just before bedtime or I might have damn near lost my mind….

xoxo a.m.

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Damn. It.

Update: Nothing potty-wise going on over here. Except for announcements of “Peepee Bathtub” and my response of “No honey, peepee potty” and his response of “No. NO! Peepee bathtub!!!” Great. Just great.

Vince is heading back to school on Monday. Yes, it’s Florida, we do things waaaaaay earlier than you Northern parts. And by school I really mean Christian-based Daycare that included VPK. And by Northern parts I mean Canada. And I guess I’ll thrown New York in the mix too. But that’s it. No-one else. Ok?

So this morning we went to Open House at his school and I learned how famous Vince is. His new teachers had already heard about him all summer from his old teachers. Apparently he is popular?

And this makes me laugh as I was low on the list of popular people in high-school.

And now my son, who is two, has a reputation. In daycare.

What? Say what? Saaaaaaayyyy whaaaaaaattt?? (I can see Edward making a face at me for saying that).

Funnily enough I felt quite proud and had to call Edward immediately. We laughed and laughed over the whole thing. A lot. Neither of us had any sort of reputation. And apparently if you combine those two things together, it equals one reputation. Of gargantuan proportions.

Regardless of his reputation, I loved his new teachers. And his new classroom. And his classroom’s pet fish. And his classrooms mini-toilets.

Actually, I loved them the most.

“We encourage potty-training, but we aren’t pushing it. As long as they are interested, we promote it”, his teachers said to me this morning.

Edward, that’s it. I am leaving you and marrying these two ladies. They appear to know EXACTLY what I want.

Friday, which was when I thought this Open House was, we pulled up bright and early to his school. And noticed it was closed. Ack.

As we drove away, Vince cried and screamed “Dis ok. DIS OK!”

To be honest, I was surprised. And happy. I was glad that he was excited to go back to school and excited for his opportunities.

Currently he already knows about 6 letters of the alphabet by sight. And quite a few numbers. He showed me an upside-down ‘L’ the other day and called it ‘7’.

Which, of course, if you think about it is completely correct. Who am I to correct such visual awesomeness. I carefully showed him how it could be both. And now when he encounters that foam letter in the tub, he show and tells me the ‘L’ and ‘7’. I feel pretty amazed.

That little man is ready for school.

I cannot wait for his first day. And also? I can’t wait for his first day. Do you hear the different intonations in those identical phrases?

Can you imagine a happy/sad mask from the Eighties? One that you might have had hanging on your living room wall? Or… more sadly,  in your bedroom?

Regardless, my little man is hitting K2. There will be potty training. And play-dough (yikes). Fake kitchens and pet fish.

Oh. My. God.

And ‘yikes’ and ‘holy crap’ and ‘Jeez’.

and also?

xoxo a.m.

(and I hope you are sending some love my way, as I will need it come Monday)

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Veggie shock

And just like that, the veggie crisis of 2010 is over.

It came as a shock to me mostly, to V not at all and to Edward? Well, he is a vampire and doesn’t eat veg. So he could have cared less.

I think things changed when Edward and I discovered this amazing Organic farm about a week ago. That’s with a capital ‘O’, as it orgasmically delicious. Mmmhhh.

Anyways, just a wee local place a few miles from us that we happened upon. Gorgeous green bliss, fresh egg-tasticness, blueberry heaven and hearty, wide grins at my shy boy as he clung to my side while confronted with this cheery wholesomeness.

The next day, he voluntarily ate a raw piece of okra.


I mean, it’s not something that I think is awesome. It forms its own starchy slime while being chewed and while it tastes crunchy and fresh, once you’ve chewed it 3 times, it feels like someone spit in your mouth.


Well, V apparently thought so. He ate a few pieces, Edward and I surreptitiously high-fived each other.

2 nights ago, he ate zucchini. And then last night he ate it again. And then this evening he ate it again. And while eating it? He requested carrots.

Seriously, who are you  child of mine?

And when he got his hands on those carrots, he stuffed them in. Please visualize my shocked face. Edward, of course, showed no emotion at all (darn vampires).

And so, it’s over. It’s all over. Veg has been accepted back into our daily lives, V’s appetite seems to have been restored. There doesn’t seem to be any fighting over getting him to eat. He told me this evening what he wanted to eat, I made it for him and he ate it all (hot dogs, toast with cheese and baby carrots and zucchini).

Not only did things go in his mouth, but nothing came out of it, half chewed and deposited into my  hand.


The farm has worked it’s magic. He is excited to go to the farm, be at the farm and leave the farm. On the way home from the farm, all he talks about is ‘the farm’ and ‘fun’.

Thank you Farm for bringing veggies back into our child’s life. Thanks for making veggies ‘fun’.

If you want to experience some lovely organics, please go here. Once this fall season arrives, I cannot even wait for the wonderful bounty that will literally erupt from this place.

Love you and love the veg…

xoxo a.m.

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I kicked a frog yesterday morning.

I think it was a shock to both of us.

I honestly wasn’t expecting him to land on my foot mid-trot and kick him off. Or do a squeamish dance in the middle of the running path.

OR repeat that exact same thing 30 seconds later. Ugh!!

Oh my lord. And with every step I took after that, it was frogs a plenty and I feel like I danced and twirled all through my run. Which, honestly, wouldn’t have been that bad but I was aiming for more hardcore stamina as opposed to Dancey McDanceathon. At 5:50 am.

And so this morning, I had the Plague of frogs on my mind when I headed off this early a.m. to get my run on. Ever since my Friday 5k, I am loving hitting the pavement. LOVE IT. As in, might divorce Edward and have a handfasting ceremony with the pavement in front of my house, wherein I start my running.

Anyways, this morning there were no frogs. There were also no birds, ducks, dogs, deer or spider webs (that I always seem to run through with my mouth open. Ick.)

Compared to the virtual rain of frogs from yesterday, the complete dearth of frogs this morning was oppositely bizarre.

I cannot help but think that this week is waxing and waning in terms of the number of frogs I have seen. And tomorrow I am anticipating to see none. Since I am not going running at all.

Hm. Did I disappoint you?

Mummy needs a rest, especially since I literally had a breakdown when I got home this evening and was banished to a hot tub relaxathon with a glass of wine by my husband. With strict instructions to not come out.

Best banishment ever.

Love you Edward…

xoxoxo a.m.

(Love you frogs too….)

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Things that happened this weekend..

… things that I didn’t tell you.

Things you might not even care about? Or maybe you do. Aw, I know you do!! You love us!

You love Edward (who doesn’t?!). And who can’t love a saucy Canadian and a plump, cheeky 2 year old? Literally, its impossible.

V had multiple booboo’s this weekend. Some of which he announced to me while I was driving. A booboo must be kissed by Mummy, that’s just the way things go. It is very difficult to kiss a booboo when one is driving and, say, the booboo is on a plump little foot that is being thrust towards you from the back seat. And then there is crying because you don’t pull over and kiss it.

So I suggested that Vince kiss his own booboo. And to my surprise, he did. And when I finally stopped the car at our destination? He didn’t want any additional kisses from me. And then I felt hurt, because I wanted to kiss those little plump, slightly smelly feet. Sad disappointment, eh?

I went back to the organic farm this morning with V, post-thunder storm. Pulling into the makeshift parking lot, our tires clung and stuck to the mud that we churned up. And as I got out of the car and walked over to V’s side, my flip-flops slurped and stuck with every step and I had a ‘My Cousin Vinny” flashback.

Inside, we picked up a stir-fry greens pack, some farm-fresh eggs and some goats cheese. Vince picked up some basil and squished it. And so I picked that up too.

On the way home, the car had the most delicious aroma. That basil was strong, it permeated everything. I literally would have rubbed it on my wrists, the aroma was so gorgeous.

Post-farm trip, I hit the sidewalks for another run. A repeat 5k, just in my immediate neck of the woods. Of course, I run as a super-thunder storm approaches. Mid mile number 2, Edward calls: “Do you want me to pick you up? I saw lightning.”

Me: “No, I think I’m ok. I haven’t seen any here. It isn’t raining yet either. I’ll call you”.

This? Because I was determined to do 3 miles and was pissed that I’d logged 1 1/2. And happily ignored the suspiciously black clouds that looked like they might be maybe right on top of me.

7 minutes later, I rang Edward “Hey!! Hi! Can you pick me up?!?!”. Oh his face was something to behold when he picked up my wet, smiling mug at the shelter of the YMCA overhang.

My response? Pure cheek.

Literally that is the only thing that would have been a good response. He is Italian, after all….

xoxo a.m.

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Third (organic)

So last night I ran a 5k for the first time in 3 years.

The last time I participated in a race, Edward and I weren’t even discussing having children. OK, that’s a lie. I was discussing it mostly with myself, but I had yet to convince him that it was the best plan he had ever heard of in his whole life. Which he now recognizes as the best decision of his life (apart from the one where he proposed to me).

Anyways, it was awesome. I ran around Moss Park, in the peaceful dark, and it was extremely empowering. Edward and Vince cheered me on. I felt adrenalized  (this, I am pretty sure, is not a word. But it sums it up nicely).

Edward showered me with sushi and champagne which, let’s face it, was rather over the top. However, I love it. I love it when he does things like that. And damn that sushi was good.

This morning, after all of us woke up at 7 am (sleep-in win for the family!), I was still running that high. (Ha! Running joke!)

I literally flew downstairs and proceeded to make french toast with fresh, hot blueberry jam, coffee, tea and a milk bottle. And then I traipsed and twirled out to the car with the boys so we could hit up a little community water park in Dr Philips.

Edward decided to take the long route with the idea that we would finally check out this organic produce place he had noticed a while back.

And oh my god. I was in West Coast heaven. That is the closest way to describe this delightful piece of property. It didn’t really look like much. And actually, they didn’t really have that much produce as it’s hot like a mother right now. Regardless…

We came away with a pound of fresh okra (that we both tried raw and adored) and some escarole. And a promise to return tomorrow for some fresh eggs,  goats cheese and some organic yogurt.

Edward and I floated out of there in organic heaven. We have been dying to find a lovely local place and this place, with it’s incredibly down-to-earth and friendly staff and gorgeous greens, was it.

We signed up for produce emails. We drove away with huge grins.

Post-water park, we all hit Whole Foods for lunch and shopping. Fresh Mahi-Mahi, merlot, coconut gelato (Thanks Michelle for sharing!) and some other assorted deliciousness later, we left with huger grins on our face.

Edward and I feel…extra powerful? Organically wholesome? Overwhelmingly delicious? Awesome?

All of the above?

It was like some sort of adrenaline orgasm. Some sort of organic overload.

Edward and I had a moment. 5k plus organics equals family makeover. Plus lifestyle makeover. Plus I might buy some new eyeliner.

Oh my god do we ever feel re-energized and focused.

So this evening, I am feeling the rejuvenation. It is an actual organic revival. Right from the very bottom of my soul. Organic like that. Human. Natural. Emotive. Motivated. Motivational.

Oh life. Sometimes you throw stop-signs, signal lights and a few round-about curves at us. But essentially? Your directional sense is sound.

xoxo a.m.

ps: I placed third in my age group. That means I am one fast bitch.

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Family night out

So Edward, Vince and I decided to check out ‘National Night Out’ this evening. Being as it wasn’t even close to dark, this was a little difficult for Edward to be out and about in. But since, a la True Blood, he has ingested my faerie blood, he is able to handle the day light a lot easier.

What? No, not really. He doesn’t drink my blood on a regular basis. Honestly.

Anyways, neither of us had any idea what it was about. And not only that, but neither of us bothered to find out anything about it. I kept receiving emails from my neighbourhood association about how this event was approaching, none of which had any details. For a while I thought it was a ‘National Coming Out’ and then I was really confused. Then I read the email a little more closely and still had no idea.

And tonight when we went? Neither of us had any idea what we were attending. Actually, we had no idea until I googled it about 5 minutes ago.

Ours had food from Tijuana Flats, a raffle and a few bounce houses. Big high-lights included a hula-hoop contest for the kiddos and, my favorite, sidewalk chalk.

All chalk was confiscated by tweens who used it to write “I *heart* Justin Bieber” all over the sidewalks around our local YMCA (which is where the even was being held).

It made me laugh. Which I did, of course, politely out of sight of those tempestuous tweenies. God forbid we should ignite the ire.

Apparently the Nation Night Out is a marriage of communities and the police officers that protect them (and Target, so whats not to love). It was quite cute. V bounced his face off in the bounce house, we ate some tacos and drank some unsweetened tea and let V run ragged.

No bottoms were spanked (although threats were issued) and we all returned home satisfied and tired.

As this week approaches Wednesday, I feel hesitant regarding the weekend. I am minutes away from signing up for the first 5k that I have ran in about 3 years. It’s a gentle ‘easing in’ process.

I bought new socks. I am stocking up on Coconut water. Edward and V have been advised to cheer me over the finish line. I feel concerned that I won;t be able to make it the whole way? (And by this, I mean, running the whole 5 k with no breaks. Any break will disappoint myself.)

So maybe cheer me on?

It’s the Moss Park Forest 5K

What a peach, eh?

xoxo a.m.

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