Awards and such

I’m a slacker.

It’s my last week of maternity leave and I’ve decided to pack as much into it with the kids as I possibly can. Typical.

And then a very nice fellow blogger nominated me for a blog award. Which reminded me that I’d been nominated for one before BUT DID NOTHING ABOUT IT.

So my thanks MamaBearMatters! Thank you for nominating me. It really is just the nicest thing to have people reach out to you (especially people that aren’t your parents) and tell you that they enjoy reading what you’re putting out there. I appreciate your feedback and really enjoy your blog (check her out! She’s pretty great!)

And also, my apologies to Vicky the Northern Chicky! She nominated me as well and I promptly forgot. (You should check her out too!) Thank you!

The Versatile Blogger Award:

– Nominate 15 fellow bloggers (or as many as you deem worthy).

– Inform the bloggers of their nomination.

– Share 7 things about yourself.

– Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to them.

– Add the “Versatile Blogger Award” pic to your blog post.

Seven things about me that probably are mostly interesting to my Mum:

1) I am from Vancouver Island, BC Canada, have dual citizenship and have lived in Florida for the last 6 years.

2) I met my husband after University graduation when we both taught English in Hamamatsu, Japan.

3) I can still read some Japanese, even though it’s been almost been a decade since I lived overseas.

4) I wish I had the wherewithall to do cloth diapers, but I don’t and beat myself up about my contributions to global waste.

5) I’ve wanted to write a book FOREVER. Like since I was 8. This is me practicing. I’ve been practicing for almost 4 years.

6) I thought I had good taste in movies, but the cold, hard reality is that I have the worst taste ever. But since I don’t care, it balances out nicely!

7) Literally right after I gave birth to my daughter Eleanor, I joked with my doctor ‘Well, that was easy! I might have to do it again!’ I’d never seen my husband turn that colour before in my life. I was mostly joking.

I’m supposed to nominate several people but I don’t follow that many on here. This year is the most involved I’ve gotten in the WordPress community and I am enjoying it so much… So here’s a few of my recent finds. Hope you enjoy them too!

Doodling through Life

Living the Green Life

Sleeping Should be Easy

Dirty Rotten Parenting

I hope you enjoy! I know that I do…

xoxo a.m.

Tough love and Rocket ships

Under construction…

Today is going to be a great day. I just know it I woke up knowing it. Vince woke up super chipper. Eleanor woke up with gooey smiles. Clearly the day is already earmarked to be amazing. Hopefully I haven’t just screwed myself with my overabundance of optimism.

4 weeks into being a stay-at-home-mom and things are slowly starting to improve. Last week was a week of tough love. But that tough love seems to have created a little boy who is determined to listen to me. Hallelujah! I’ll let you in on my secret.

Just a wee post about pee (snicker)

The waiting room was full, but extremely stylish...

Things are starting to wind down over here, pregnancy-wise, and I am starting to get a little apprehensive regarding what is coming. Apprehensive might be the wrong word, actually. But I’m having a hard time coming up with what exactly is the right one.

I’ve about 6 weeks to go and am just starting my bimonthly doctor appointments. Tuesday is my first one and since I’m not totally jazzed about my doctor and the office staff, I’m not too jazzed about these more regular visits.

I had to swap out doctors this pregnancy when I found out that the physician that delivered Vince stopped delivering babies because of some random OR incident (or at least that’s what her office staff muttered to me when I asked. “Fractured collar-bone in the OR”, she said through pursed lips.)How that even happens, I honestly am not sure. Or if, indeed, it’s even true.

Anyways, I’m not in love with my physician is what it really boils down to. And I am not particularly fond of the office staff either since the second visit when they randomly asked me for a large sum of money without explaining why it was being requested. And then looked at me like I was an idiot for asking what it was for.

But let me just get my real issue out in the open air…

I went to put my urine sample in the bathroom cupboard…. Wait, is this tmi? Well, maybe just stop reading for a minute or so. Let me get this off my chest….

So as I was saying, I went to put my sample in the bathroom cupboard (designed specifically for this purpose so the medical staff can remove it from the outside by a separate door). I opened the cupboard. There literally were about 7 samples inside that had clearly been there for a while. And there was nowhere for mine.

I just kind of stood there for a few seconds, staring at all that pee. All that pee that belonged to other people, people named ‘Jennifer’ and ‘Samantha’. Ugh.

What the hell did I do with mine? I ran a couple of scenarios through my mind and finally settled on the least ridiculous one. I calmly shifted other peoples urine around on the shelf until there was room for mine and then carefully set it down.

And then I went out and washed my hands thoroughly.

What. The F.

It’s just a one physician practice. It’s a teeny office. There are 2  nurses. How on earth does it reach this stage especially when ones appointment is at 8:30?

I’m no stranger to urine and feces either. I do have a 3 1/2 year old. And a baby on the way. And a husband. It’s not like it’s a mystery. But there have to be some standards, right? You don’t just ignore a cupboard full of pee, especially since this is a ‘deposit’ you are expecting from every single patient that enters the office. You’ve got to give us some options other than ‘touch everyone elses pee cups to make room for mine’. Although, I guess I could have asked them to move it, or told them it was full instead of passive aggressively being angry about it still weeks later.

Bahahahaha…. Where’s the fun in that??

I will really enjoy going back to my previous physician once darling, sweetest baby girl has arrived. And never, ever stepping foot in that grotty little office again.

I hope you enjoyed my story about pee.

Happy Sunday night 🙂

xoxo a.m.

Craft fail spectacular

Craft fail. That pretty much sums up my creative attempts Sunday…

I haven’t gotten my craft on in quite a while. It’s possible it might actually have been years since I crafted. What a horrible admission! Whats wrong with me? What have I been doing for the past few years?

Oh right. Playing playdough. Endlessly. (Can’t stand it either.) Mixing the colours literally makes me shudder. I honestly feel that you should play with each colour separately. And don’t ever combine them! Oh the horrors! Or at least combine them in a manner that allows them to be easily separated from one another, so you can put each one cleanly back in its container unsoiled.

God I’m a freak.

Anyways… Saturday night and Sunday morning I spent shaving crayons. ‘We’ were going to make crayon hearts and if you click the link on Saturdays blog from Martha Stewart, gosh do hers ever look pretty! The wax smelled lovely, like kindergarten. I had so much fun picking out various pinks and reds and purples and the shaved wax looked so pretty mixed together…

 

I had this lovely container pretty full and then I went and got a pedicure. And then Vince went over to his Grandparents house for a visit. Alone. And Edward and I were home. ALONE. And I did laundry. Party.

And since Vince wasn’t around, I thought to myself ‘Perhaps I should do the ironing part, since a 3 1/2 year old really doesn’t need to be that close to a hot iron’. This was a really clever plan. And so I did and gosh it looked nice. The colours started to meld together just a little and it looked like stained glass. And I had a kindergarten flash-back, which sort of made for a lovely experience.

And then it melted a little more. And then I looked at it a little strangely, for it appeared to be taking on another form entirely. One that was not in any way related to Valentines Day, but perhaps a little more at home in a hospital. Or a morgue. In the middle of an autopsy perhaps. Or maybe a biopsy?

 

Hmm, that looks sort of like a lung. Don’t worry, I cut out little hearts from it anyways and tied them up with red ribbon (’cause I’m fancy like that). And hung them up by my front door.

Edward took one look at it and said something like “What the hell are those?!” And one of my friends almost snorted soda out of her nose when I flashed her a photo of my clever creation.

So clearly I need to get my mojo back. This was a craft fail on a HUGE scale. Although I guess if you wanted to put a positive spin on it, at least the hearts are cut out of material that genuinely looks like it is actually from a heart.

Don’t worry fret my pets… I’m sure I’ll find something else to make a mess of this coming weekend. I’ll be sure to actively include my child in craft creation this time, instead of hogging it all to myself…

xoxo a.m.

I’m tired. And hormonal. Party.

So today I had a bit of a meltdown, one I didn’t know I was having until I was smack in the middle of it happening. I think it started with Vince getting his head stuck in a tree yesterday.

And then there was all the dog puke and shit I cleaned up yesterday and today. As well as several other things that are too mundane to bore you with. I was, surprisingly, short-tempered with pretty much everything. And there was still laundry to do and things to clean, dinner to make and pumpkins to carve.

I had a great nights sleep and thought I was over my short-temperedness until I had been up for an hour or so. And then the dog pooped in the house again. And then Vince  was Vince. And Vince, being the Vince he is, is a smart-talking, subjective listening type of three-year old. This might be all three-year olds, I’m not really sure.

When his Pop-Pop arrived to take him to GatorLand for a few hours, I just about cried. I had so many things to do around the house, things that would go a lot quicker without my little shadow. And despite that, there was just no energy for any of it. Edward finally kicked me out of the house and sent me to the movies, alone.

Which was ok with me. I didn’t really feel like talking to people. Aren’t I a peach, eh?

Sitting in the dark, eating buttery popcorn and drinking Cherry Coke and watching Hugh Jackman and some robots fight was pretty much the cure. I mean, fighting robots! Come on! Immediate cure-all!

I think part of the problem is that it’s not a problem, it’s just life. And part of the situation is that pregnancy brings so many other interesting things to the party. And part of my personality is that despite being 5 months pregnant, I think I have the same level of energy that I did prior. Which isn’t really true.

The movie really helped. I think I’ll need to go to at least one a week in order to get through the next few months… and I’ll probably have a few more hormonal breakdowns. Stupid hormones.

xoxo a.m.

Is that my childs head stuck in a tree? Of course it is…

You know when you wake-up, after a good nights sleep, thinking that it’s going to be a great day? And that possibly your child’s sports practice is going to go great?

And then it all goes to hell in a handbasket?

Exactly.

I did actually have a good sleep. Apart for that time at 2:30 am where I woke up with a burning desire for Diet Coke and I HAD to go downstairs and slug it straight from the bottle. This was followed by baby kicking me for about 25 minutes. In punishment, I imagined.

And Vince woke up in a good mood. And so did I. And so did Edward. And we ate breakfast, I made a cup of tea and off we headed to soccer.

We split up when we reached the soccer field. Edward and Vince veered off somewhere and I headed over to where the parents were to say ‘hi’.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Vince headed in my direction carrying a stick, Daddy close behind him. I kept chatting. Daddy took the stick away, Vince started to make a bit of a fuss. Daddy put the stick up in one of the trees on the edge of the field, so Vince wouldn’t drag it out with him. I joked that V apparently takes after me in ‘dramatics’ according to his father.

One of the other Mum’s said something like “Ya, they do one thing wrong and suddenly he ‘takes after you’. Really.”

And the next thing I knew, Edward is yelling at me and Vince looks wrong. Wrong in the tree. As if maybe he’s stuck? Oh. My. God.

He’s stuck. His head is stuck in the tree.

“Jame, geez. I’ve been calling you FOR AGES!” E yelled at me.

“Is he stuck?”

“Yes.”

And suddenly there was a flurry of activity, men just came streaming in from all directions and all of them pried his head out of the tree. Tears were streaming down his face. One of the YMCA staff members told me that apparently kids get their heads stuck in these trees all the time.

Gosh.

I feel so much better now, thanks.

Vince didn’t really feel like playing soccer after that. At least, not when we were watching. But once out on the field, he laughed and had tons of fun. And off the field, he cried. And then, back on the field again he ran and played. Ugh. Total bipolar soccer.

And the rest of the day took its tone from Vince. It was up and down, very rapidly. With appalling behavior. And then angelic sweetness.

Oh my lord, I am exhausted from this day.

Night night xoxo a.m.

 

News Flash! Or how I suck at Mommy-blogging

Not quite the same pink and perky, but they'll do...

I feel slightly horrified, nauseous and a bit like I might need a shower to get clean. And no, it’s not because I am watching The A-Team movie again. Although I totally understand if you thought that. That movie is completely nausea-inducing.

I was just cruising the intranet, googling pregnant things. And parenting things. Just clicking from link to link. It’s always a fun was to encounter the new and interesting…

Somehow I ended up on an extremely pink and cheerful ‘mommy-blog’. I scrolled for curiosities sake. And ended up reading a bunch of posts. And then clicked some links on the blog and ended up on some acquaintance’s blog. Also pink and cutesy. And clicked and scrolled there, same thing.

I did it a few more times before this horrified feeling came over me and I started to feel a little sick. Or maybe it was me just being a big bitch. But I found it all revolting.

It literally was endless posts about redesigning ones house, party planning for the under 5 set and a seemingly endless series of chirpy, cheerful vomit.

I don’t get it.

And on every single blog menu when I clicked on ‘blogs I like’, every single blog was a copy of the other. Possibly more chirpy, cheerful, pink, perky and revolting than the last.

I apparently am a huge bitch. OR I just don’t get it. Is this what ‘mommy-bloggers’ blog about? Why? Wheres the poop and vomit posts? Did I miss a memo?  Should I start signing my name with a heart? Perhaps a giveaway of some sort? Sponsors?

Or did I sidestep into an alternate reality of some sort?

To be honest, I find it disappointing. And I am not really sure what else or how else to describe it. And it’s not like I am a hot commodity out there on the net. Mostly because I call it things like ‘the net’. But at least I am real. And as real as I can be about all of the wonderful/horrible things that motherhood/parenthood has rained down on our family.

I certainly don’t mean this as an anti-mommyblog rant, but gah. GAH. I just… I guess I am at a loss as to what to say.

Please, if I ever become pink and perky, please slap me.

 

xoxo a.m.  (with a pink and sparkly heart)

 

 

Keeping secrets (not very well)

Viking bite their own toenails? Surely not!

Did you know that three-year-olds keep secrets?

I did not. They are three, after all. What could possibly be going on in their life that they wouldn’t tell you about? Or that you wouldn’t know? I’m not sure about you, but Vince tells me EVERYTHING, even things I maybe didn’t want to hear…

When he has to pee, how big his poop is, whom he played with both in and outside preschool. Did you know that Vince has inside and outside friends? Or so he told me… “Abby’s my inside friend, but I play with Gabriel outside”. Who the hell is Gabriel is what I want to know?? He’s been a hot topic of conversation for the last week and a half, only as an ‘outside friend’ though.

Anyways, my point is that every second of his life is an open book that he is reading out-loud non-stop.

So how did I miss that he bites his toenails?

His TOENAILS. He bites them. With his teeth.

And the reason I know this is last weekend, Vince came whining out of his room complaining of an owie on his toe. Since he had only been up for a short time, I asked him what happened thinking he had maybe stubbed his toe of something like that.

“I just was biting my toenails and then I got an owie”.

“Oh.”

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Because, frankly, that was not really the answer I was expecting. And I might have made a shocked face. Ok, I DID make a shocked face. And then a gross kind of face.

“Honey, did you bite your toes?”

“Mummy, I just bite them a little.”

“Don’t bite your toenails, its yucky.”

I don’t even know when this started. I mean, I do cut his nails. Honestly!

I guess he took matters into his own hands. It makes me wonder what other things are going on behind my back. And then it makes me worry just a little at where this could be leading…

What could be next? Nail biting? Late night 2% milk sessions in the kitchen? Unhitching the safety gate at the top of the stairs and sneaking down for some elicit Mickey Mouse marathons? Ack!

And this is just the pre-school bad behavior. Once he hits elementary, I bet he’ll go big time. Collecting bellybutton lint in little jars, hoarding his fingernail clippings, shaving all his body hair and bagging it up… (this is what I equate toenail biting with).

Ugh. Am I blowing this out of proportion? Naw… I can tell you this though, I will be monitoring those nails like they’re a juvenile delinquent posse. For Reals. (And I will also stop saying ‘for reals’ right now. For reals reals.)

xoxo and sweet toenail biting dreams…

a.m.

Leu Gardens and a sack of potatoes

Early this morning, I roused the ‘troop’ while Daddy slept on and attempted to sneak out of the house. In retrospect, I probably should have been completely ready to go before I got Vince up.

Instead I brushed my teeth and slapped on some make-up while Vincent whispered things like this “MUMMY, YOU BRUSHING YOUR TEETH??” “MUMMY, CAN YOU PUT MY UNDERWEAR ON?”

“Honey, shhhh, use your quiet voice. Daddy’s sleeping”

“OK MUMMY!! I”M BEING VERY QUIET!”

Surprisingly Daddy did not move during all of this, but I’m pretty sure he was faking it.

V and I dashed out to Dunkin Donuts to grab some muffins and coffee. And some chocolate milk. You know, because it’s Sunday and why not start the day on the proper kind of note. I still cannot get over the fact that there is a milk product out there called ‘TruMoo’ and that I bought it. (In my defense, Vince picked it out and it was the only milk product they sold) Seriously. TruMoo??!  America please. You are doing it to yourself. Just stop it already.

Anyways, my very nice in-laws came over and we headed to Leu Gardens nice and early. Today was promising to be rather hot and so the earlier the better.

What a beautiful walk. What gorgeous grounds… Huge Oak trees dripping with Spanish moss everywhere, green everywhere. Really sharp, crisp and slightly damp green. Meandering pathways leading who knows where. I think we managed about 1/2 of the grounds before V started demanding “Mummy pick me! Pick me Mummy!” and carrying a 40 lb sack of potatoes when hot and humid sucks.

Best part of the morning? One of the groundskeepers called Vince ‘Sir’ and invited him to come over and see her release some newly ‘hatched’ butterflies from a small containment area. (Do they hatch? That feels wrong when I type it) She very carefully explained about how they needed to pump blood into their wings before they were ready to fly and then she unlatched the butterfly house. About 5 beautiful monarchs swept out and fluttered past us. It was quite an exit. For a moment, I felt like I was somewhere else entirely…

I highly recommend hitting the gardens for a jaunt with the family. And it is in close proximity to a variety of nice places for lunch afterwards. Hit up their website for a list of upcoming events including Date Night (once a month) and a fun, spooky Halloween event scheduled for October 28… For Mums with a bit more free-time, there is Storytime too.

Mmmhmmm, I am loving me some gardens…. Go love them too!

xoxo a.m.

I’m a hormonal freak. Again. Still.

Cat in cage, not in bag. As previously explained.

So now that the cat is completely out of the bag, expect a surplus of pregnancy related posts… Mostly about how tired I am (which is a lot) and how I feel like I want to puke every morning (yay first trimester!) and how I am frighteningly hormonal.

And frankly, these hormones are a little scary. There might have been some out of control rage. I might have maybe stormed out of the house, slamming the door in my wake. Maybe.

And while trying to mentally remember my first pregnancy, I found that there are little to no memories remaining. Shock! Apparently, and for my own good, my mind has blocked out every unpleasant aspect of it. Was I this tired?? I don’t think so, but who knows? I could have been!

I do remember eating a lot of peanut butter and bacon sandwiches, uncontrollable urges for oranges and having a sore back. And then, magically I had a baby.

And most of the actual ‘giving birth’ parts are pretty vague too. Kind of like how your Mum might have glossed over that particular part when telling you as a child.

“And then you push and OUT pops the baby!”

Or kind of like I’ve had my memory wiped. I have to concentrate really hard to remember the specifics, but my mind kind of slips away from it. Deliberately distracted by anything else other than what it was aiming from.

Nature is helping me not get too freaked out about what we’ve gotten ourselves into…

And while Vince shrieks things like “I said get out of my room!!” and “Go away Mummy!”, I ponder the fun that baby #2 will bring. Vince thinks that the baby will be ready for playtime, as evident in this tasty piece of V-wisdom… “The baby’s gonna come and smash me on the head!!!” (and he sounded really excited about it).

In the mean time, I cannot wait until this awful exhaustion stops. It will stop right? Because it’s crippling me. And while we are at it, wouldn’t mind that nausea taking a hike too…

xoxo a.m.