Category Archives: holy mother

Cardio Win

So in my quest for rejuvenation, I have been hitting up the YMCA pretty hard this week. No more excuses. No more ‘I’m too tired’, ‘It’s too late’ or ‘Oh, M is looking particularly handsome tonight’… none of that!

Monday night I hit up some ‘Cardio Kickboxing’. Firmly planted right in the back of the room, which is kind of like the back of the bus or the back of the lecture hall. Ready for easy and quick escape and near the door.

Hoping to enter the class unnoticed, my plan went sour when the teacher started chatting me up before the class started. Well shit. I confessed my ‘back of the room’ plan and he just laughed at me and slapped me on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” he smiled.

Oh great.

I think about 10 minutes of the class was spent (stretched over the whole 45 minutes) was spent with me looking alternately confused and staring blankly at what the people around me were doing. There was a lot of sweating too. But it was a lot of fun.

Next up?

‘Cardio Dance’

*cue laughter*

Post-kickboxing class, I reflected on my lack of rhythm. Cardio dance cemented those thoughts. It turns out that Cardio Dance is a code name for ‘Zumba‘, which is something I have no business doing.

1) I have no rhythm

2) I have no kind of street edge at all and am not able to dance with attitude (or ‘tude’ as the teacher referred to it)

3) As I discovered, I am the whitest person alive.

4) I actually am not sure how to ‘shake my booty’.

5) Going to a sexy dance class, with gyrating crotch moves, booty shakes and pelvic thrusts in my husband’s oldest and most unflattering teeshirt made me slightly self-conscious next to the other pretty young thangs in their YMCA finery.

I wasted a lot of time turning in the wrong directions, facing the wrong way and staring blankly. And laughing at myself (out-loud too. It just was that ridiculous).

And finally?

Tonight was Spin Class.

Walking into the class with 2 other people who also had no idea what they were doing made me feel a little better. Our sweet and perky teacher, who looked like she was about 5, was so enthusiastic about everything I started to feel ok about it.

Class started.

Now here is something I can handle. Just good old fashion sweat.

Sweat combined with pumping bass and pop-music. And a bike. So simple. No fancy footwork. Easy rhythms. I can handle this.

I am in exercise heaven. I might have finally found something to replace Bikram.

45 minutes later, I was soaking and my legs were shaking. *fist pump*

Exercise win!

(and I remembered my vitamin AND flossed my teeth!) Health win as well!!!

* I’ll keep you posted on if I am able to walk tomorrow or not…

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Sparkle!

Please bless this home with sparkles and multi-colour shoes.

Things we do to our children.

For example, the things I do to mine.

Friday was a short day for me. Christmas party at work, a luncheon with ‘games’ and in my excitement at leaving work early I planned just a few extra things. Things that, in retrospect, should have just been ‘fit in’ on their own day. I was a wee bit determined though and we all know what that’s like.

Xmas photos at the mall (in the tropical thunder-storm that hit the area?! Sure! No problem!). Late night trip to the grocery store (late being 7 pm). Dinner at 7:30. Bed at 8 pm. This is all very unusual for all members in my household, especially the dog. I think he relies on routine and gets confused when things don’t go according to his plans.

I stayed up way later than everyone else.

And thought about things.

About the lady I met in the photo studio last night who exchanged Iphone apps with me. Thanks for ‘Hatch’! Her son was roughly the same age as V and I couldn’t help but notice that she was loosing her hair. She was much older than I am/was/will be.

Whatever that means.

Anyways…

About the photographer that made the most interesting noises I have ever heard in order to gain and keep Little Man’s attention. Good job! I didn’t even know those noises existed! And how do you learn them? And oh, how I don’t want to ever be a photog working at a place like that.

About how crappy driving in the rain is here. It might be the equivalent to driving in the snow on Vancouver Island. Despite the fact that it rains here a lot, no-one still knows how to drive in it. Hence my Island reference. Re: snow.

About how letting Little Man stay up until 8 pm equals me getting to sleep in until 9 am. Not such a bad thing.

Anyways, we got home late. The only thing he wanted to eat was banana and milk. Who am I to argue with him? We were waaaaaay beyond that point. We were at the point of  ‘nobody matters at all’,  least of all Mummy. At least he ate.

And Sunday was the same… but slightly more of ‘Things we do to our children’ and ‘What the hell were we thinking!’.

Both of these topics seem to come up rather often.

We went to Downtown Disney. For those not in Florida, it is a cute area, on Disney property but not attached to any of the parks. Movie theatres, shops, Lego stores, McDonald’s (apparently an essential), it’s all that kind of thing.

It was a no-nap day. Just a light snooze in the car, followed by french fries and chocolate milk (which is the hugest treat ever). V, in his sweater, had the run of the place. And then M had the brilliant idea to see if he liked cotton candy.

Well, he does. And sugar gives him energy despite the lack of nap.

We got back to Hunters Creek around 4 pm. And then home, after a stop at the grocery store around 5 pm. And what did we buy at the store?

A roast. Because on a Sunday night, around 6 pm, this is clearly the perfect thing to slide in the oven. At the time we were discussing it (3:30 pm) it was! And sounded so delicious!

When we got home (5 pm), and put it in the oven (6 pm) it seemed like the beef was a dream. And a stupid dream at that. We had sushi for dinner while the roast cooked.

And we had Roast for dinner tonight. Way to plan!

Things I thought about today…

About how demanding people are. Is it an American thing? Not sure, but the kind of screaming that I face on the telephone is the equivalent to a toddler tantrum. People pout and fight when they don’t get their way. To be honest, it’s rather annoying. I would rather V have a temper tantrum in the middle of a busy street than talk to some guy who can’t understand why his post-nasal drip isn’t cause for National Concern (sometimes you can just hear the capitals).

Or why we can’t see you ‘right now’. Or why you can’t  ‘just come in and wait….. it will only take “5 minutes”‘. Pretty much this is every conversation that I will be having until years end.

About how I missed my BF Shanaenae* today at the office. Naenae, you know I need to see you every day.

It’s moving into that time of the year. Yes, that’s right. It’s Nature’s Menstrual cycle. Everyone gets bitchy. And the closer it gets to Xmas and New Years, the worse it gets for all of us making appointments and doing things of other Nation Concern to random people. Bastards.

How I felt sad that V ran into daycare this morning without a care in the world. I literally was like “Oh. Ok. Um….. Um. I guess I’ll go now…” Meanwhile V is happily playing without a care in the world with another little boy. My feelings were just a little bit hurt. Just a little. *sigh* Ok, a lot.

But miraculously, I felt waaaay better this afternoon when I went and picked him up and he immediately dropped everything he was doing and ran to me. And then clung to my legs.

THAT’S what I want to see!!!! Pure dependency!

All it does is cement that my little man is growing up. And that, probably, I need to have another baby.

Lord, please bless this home with a feminine child.

Mumma needs to buy sparkly shoes for someone…

*Girl, I am only using your Ghetto name for privacy reasons….

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Neb Ninja

Just another post about nebulizers. This must really get boring for you to read about, but seriously. I have to vent about them.

Back at the Dr suddenly last week (due to a awful cough), we are back on the neb, different medication and 2x a day treatments. Discussing the previous issues with the nebulizer with V’s Dr, she offered some options. Try something different but slightly similar, or try the neb again. Since he was literally an angel taking a treatment at the office, I felt confident that we would be able to continue this at home!

So Tuesday night, treatment time and again, so well-behaved. I was in shock. Lollipops really work!! Is that all it really took? I can’t believe I scoffed at them and their magical powers, without even really giving them a chance.I was thrilled with his behavior. I bought a huge bag and happily planned things that would work as ‘distractions’ while we did treatments.

Day 2 of the ‘treatment’ didn’t go so well. We only managed 1 as opposed to the 2 we were supposed to do. But I figured that was better than nothing. And his cough was loosening up, he didn’t sound that wheezy, so not so bad.

Day 3? Forget it.

Disaster.

M did treatment in the AM and we double-teamed in the PM. Apparently my ideas of ‘distractions’ collide with reality:

Sesame Street.

Elmo books.

Gluten-free chocolate chip cookies. Lollipops. Squeezey fruit packs (Celine, these did not go over well). Juice boxes. Giving neb treatments to the dog (not really), Daddy (ditto) and whatever was nearby.

Please picture reality colliding with all of these things and then exploding all over them.

This evening he cried until he literally was red-faced. As soon as I let him escape my lap and those feet hit the carpet, he clapped his hands. He was so happy to be free from the neb. He clapped and clapped.

I might have commented previously on how V has taken the trait of ‘stubbornness’ from both M and I, so it’s multiplied. Not such a good thing. As evidenced every time I try and hold his hand when we cross the road. He not only doesn’t want to, but crouches down and tries to pull his hand out of mine. This results in a lot of crouches and stopped traffic.

Man. Nebulizers are exhausting. How on earth I am expected to fit these into a day, I don’t even know. I feel overwhelmed.  But concerned at the same time. I want to make sure that Little Man  is a healthy beast, but.. well…. I think I really should just be feeling grateful that this is the most dramatic of health issues that we are dealing with at the moment. Other familys are dealing with so much more…

And I can think of one in specific (Joa xoxo), so it easily puts my health issues in the backseat of my crappy Hyundai. And lets them just sit there. And maybe have a juice box since they are cranky from being on the back burner(ish). Juice boxes make everything better.

Oh Nebulizer, how we want to love you. Can you just please love us back?

xoxo a.m.

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Big Kids

Pants like this are not allowed in the house.

V wants to play with the big boys and girls.

This was fairly evident yesterday when I took him to the park. Happily playing with Mummy in the park, we literally were going down dual slides ‘hand-in-hand’. It was like the ideal vision of quality time with Mummy. I was having so much fun. So was he…

And then, the big kids came.

First it was 2 girls, maybe around 10 or so… Screaming and yelling, they ran into the gated playground shouting things like “I’m gonna kill you!” and “You’re such a bitch!”.Ah, tweens…

V was dumbstruck… He toddled in their direction, at first a little tentatively… and then full throttle. He was fascinated by them. All of the loudness. He wanted to be right in there. And they wanted to have nothing to do with him. Because they are big kids. Didn’t even make eye-contact with him, or say ‘hi’ or comment on how cute he is…

Wherever those big kids went, he did too. He climbed higher on the playground than he ever has before, just trying to follow them.

And then 2 boys joined them.

The conversation immediately changed to things like “You’re such a girl” and “I kicked her in the vagina” and “Stop trying to kick me in the vagina”.

I could not believe that they were all throwing the vag about. And they were 10. And they were proud about it too! Like kicking someone in the vagina was the cool thing to do. I feel confused.

Anyways, V thought everything about them was awesome, as evident by the look on his face.

Playtime was done and dinnertime was approaching, we headed out of the playground and meandered in the direction of home. V meandered a little more than I did… Big kids are distracting.

He lagged further and further behind me. I was attempting to do some reverse psychology and so kept walking away saying “Bye bye V! Bye bye!!”.

This was ineffective. It probably would have been more effective on anyone else’s child. He grabbed a toy and ran back towards the playground. He ran up to the fence that surrounded the play area, right near where the big kids were playing. He took that toy and threw it through the fence, so it landed right near where the big kids were.

He said “Uh-oh!”. Ya right. Like that was an accident.

And then he ran into the playground and went and got it. And then he lingered. I had to go and sweep him off his feet and humorously run out of there with him (that means I make funny noises when I run. Noises like “Doodly -doot-dee-doot-dee-doo!! Whee!” and then I feel a wee bit stupid. (I am sure the big kids would agree.)

He was so mad that we left and kept trying to head back there. I eventually distracted him with my expensive phone. He might have put it in his mouth only twice. Don’t tell M. Please.

xoxo a.m.

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Socks

My living room times a million

Finger up nose.

Pants around ankles.

Toothbrush in eyeball.

Socks on floor.

I think this sums up the week nicely.

1) Finger constantly up nose. Not my finger. And not my nose. All day. Every day.

2) V is currently 17 months. I refuse to buy him any pants small than 2t or 24 months. There is just no point. So last weekend I bought him some jeans, Levi carpenter pants (adorable). They only stay on if he is wearing shoes. Shoes seem to block those pants quick descent to the floor. I have to roll the cuffs up and that helps prop the jeans up on top of his sneakers. Nice.

3) In my efforts to promote good hygiene to my toddler, I’ve been gently promoting the toothbrush. Mostly as something just to hold and put in the mouth. Some brushing movements are made and I figure it’s a start.

Tonight, in his thorough excitement about his new toothbrush, he punched me in the eye with it. It hurt. I hope there is no bruising… Holy mother does than boy have an arm on him!

4) I might lose my mind about these damn socks. Can someone (besides me) pick them up?! All. Over. My. House.

Before V, there were M socks everywhere. Drove me nuts. Post-double shift socks were scattered everywhere. The dog finds them delicious. Still does. And V has inherited this from his father. Socks come off the instant they are put on. In the car. In the house. In the yard. On the sidewalk. Mid-poop. Mid-poop clean-up.

Poop-socks? Good times.

Click here to learn some valuable tips about socks… and how to wear them. Properly.

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Mobile

middle-blog

That baby sheep in the middle, who looks like he's about to make a dash for it? That's mine...

 

The continued adventures of a mobile child…and his mother.

I might as well be his entourage, as I am always behind him. Currently he moves like rapid fire throughout, well, everything.

This afternoon we (I) decided to take a walk with the M.C. and the dog. Now, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have taken the dog, but the poor thing is just so desperate for any attention that he practically attached his own leash and walked himself in his eagerness to spend time with me.

So dog in hand, V and I went a’walkin’.

I had thought just to go around the block.

1/25th of the there… Oh look! Garbage! Mumma! Shall I pick it u…. oh. you got it for me… Thanks mumma.

1/24th of the way there. Oh look! The dog peed right there! Right there, Mumma… I think I’ll go over and walkright on top of it. Oh wait….. WHEEEEEE! I love it when you pick me up and swing me around!

1/23rd of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/22nd of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/21st of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/20th of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

1/19th of the way. Mumma, there’s something out there in the street, I think I’ll go and get it.

So this short walk that I wanted to take took FOR EVER.

I ended up with so many random pieces of garbage in my pocket. Rather in my pocket than in V’s mouth. And the poor dog. Mid-poop, V did a dash out into the road. I tried a ‘grab, bag and run’. And had no option but to stuff that filled poop-bag into my pocket. V was, at this point, in the middle of the street and giggling madly. Chewie was still in mid-squat but no-longer on the grass (poor dog). I had poo in my pocket. And some random Halloween garbage.

Half way back we encountered an awful combination of other dogs, other people and the road in front of our house. just the sight of this road is enough for Little man to do a fast dash for the middle of it. Collapse when I try and pick him up. Cry. Thrash. Cry some more. And then, at this perfect time, everyone in the neighbourhood walks their dog or turns onto our road and tries to park their car.

But can they?

Nope.

No, they cannot.

And why you ask?

As my child is having a tantrum in the middle of the street, effectively blocking any passage down it.

Hi neighbours! Please watch me parent my child in public! Please don’t judge me too much…

www.clusterflock.org

www.dadcentric.com

And if you are, go to the above sites and judge them too….

 

 

 

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Crochet, Part One

Crochet kitty-blog

Crochet, day one:   Crochet, unravel, crochet, unravel… repeat until eyes blur. Approximately 10 minutes. Starting colour of brown makes beginning of project look rather like a lumpy dog poo.

Hm. Doesn’t sound like the best of starts.

Day two: I ate a sub and watched Survivor instead. But I thought about crocheting a lot. So I made a blanket in my mind… So creative…

Day three: I finished the new Dan Brown book, drank a glass of red wine and looked at my bag of crocheting sitting on the table next to my wine. And then thought about my pizza cooling in the kitchen. 45 minutes later I picked that yarn up and commenced crocheting. And then I unraveled bits. And then I looked at it in a confused manner. And then I looked at the time (10:45 pm). And then I went to bed.

Total length completed on 3rd day? 4 inches. Good job A.M.

Day four: Who am I kidding. I am deliberately avoiding looking at that bag of yarn. It’s right next to me. On my right. About 1 1/2 feet away. Bastard. I can feel it sulking. Tomorrow darling, tomorrow….

 

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The Ladies

ladies-blog

I know she only has one arm... sometimes the Ladies room is just that dangerous...

Things I did today for the first time….

Got poop stuck under one of my fingernails. And no, it was not mine. In 17 months, this was the first time it has happened. How it hasn’t, no idea…. however, lately he has become extremely thrashy. Like his father, mid-90’s. So genetics. Ya. Thanks M, for passing that genetic gift on.

I also took V into the Ladies Room with me today. Why I thought this would be a brilliant idea? Not sure… But I had to go to the bathroom and we were about to hit up a long drive. Luckily no-one was in the room when we entered and it stayed that way the whole time we were in there.

The moment his feet hit the floor of the stall, he turned around and those little fingers went right for the latch. Oh the fast mind of a mother…. “Ooooh, look honey…. toilet paper! On a roll! Oooooooh! Look! We can keep pulling and pulling and pulling it…..”

And that’s how he kept himself occupied the whole time we were in there. And then we washed our hands. With soap. All wet, freshly washed hands go directly down the front of Mummy’s shirts and into her bras.

And then there was the first time I said ‘NO!!’ in a very strong manner to Little Man. And then he laughed at me. Actually, he laughed so much, that he fell down on the ground and proceeded to keep giggling.

I even pulled out all of the stops with a full-on first, middle and last name firm, warning-like tone.

He kept laughing at me.

And then he hit his head on  the exact thing that I was trying to steer him away from. Which was the TV stand, in case you were wondering. That stand and all of its wires are truly a beacon to all men.

And then he cried. A lot. And then I felt slightly smug…. I was all like “See?!?! SEE!!!! That’s why I was trying to keep you away from there!!!”.

But since we are not really at a communicating stage yet, he didn’t listen to my logic and kept crying.

And I can’t handle it. So I scooped him up, gave him a cuddle and that crying stopped in…oh…2 seconds….

FAKER!!

I don’t think he really bumped his head at all… I think he just smacked the console and made a sound that was the same as hitting your head…

Damn it! So screwed over here… need more skills to deal with toddlers.

PS… All of these lovely occurrences happened today… just an fyi…

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Suck it up, Mummy

suck_it_up-blog

How did November suck so fast?

I had high hopes for it. REALLY high ones, especially considering that October was the month of the plague in our little family. I was really over it all. Sick husband. Sick little boy. Projectile vomiting. High fevers. Lethargy. Do I need to go on? Are you getting the picture? Just skip back a few posts and you will be able to read all about it.

So as I got home today, my father-in-law was outside with V playing. I parked, scooped up that little Man and got the down low on how V had behaved for Pop-Pop and if anything was going on in daycare that I needed to know about.

Last week there was a confirmed case of Hand Foot and Mouth disease. They sent home a handy little info sheet, all about the disease and some ways of combating it. There is no cure. It is just a virus that runs its course and is also fairly common in care facilities with small children. Everything goes into the mouth and everything comes out of the mouth and goes onto everything else.

I was pleased that they had let us know, but thought nothing further about it. My son couldn’t possibly get something like that. Only dirty people do (that thought might have been lurking somewhere in the back of my mind…. it didn’t surface…just saying it was there…).

I clearly must have pissed someone off with that deeply hidden thought as not only is it Monday, but V has a blister inside his bottom lip. And a bit of a rash on his bum. That rash could be anything though. But Day-Care seems pretty sure that is what it is. You know, with all of their medical licenses and stuff.

I’ll be making my weekly call to the pediatrician tomorrow morning.

Read all about what we are going through HERE

I will be trying to suck it up while you are doing that…. (I am a big girl. I can handle this…again…still….forever…)

xoxo a.m.

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Hallo-Weenie!

IMG_7133

Post-Halloween over here, and the dog and I are chilling…

V was a marathon runner this year. Costume choice was decided last year and at that time was based on the fact that babies look cute in shoes. About one month ago, V learned to walk and so the costume suddenly became a way better one. How funny to see little man dressed up as if he is about to do a runner and then it watch him do one down the sidewalk!

I thought it would be hilarious…

It was. When I ever thought a headband would stay on his little head, lord only knew… But for the 30 seconds it was on, it looked awesome.

7 pm and little man was in bed. Tuckered out from the excitement of the evening. He got 5 pieces of candy (that I will eat for him).

I feel weird about giving my child candy. Apparently, I have no problem giving other peoples kids treats (as illustrated by the way I thrust it upon those trick-or-treaters), but I had a hard time even giving V a lollipop. It just seems wrong… Cupcake (that I have made for him), yes. Laffy taffy, no….

I proceeded to get knocks on the door until 9:30, despite an apparent strict policy  regarding front porch lights being on (indicating that you are participating). I turned mine off at 7:15, when I was about to run out of candy. Just as my mother-in-law left and I let the dog loose again.

Poor Chewie, barking his face off upstairs, locked in a room. The second I let him out, he became uber guard dog.

He is a chihuahua. And rather self-important.

Thank you Chewie for providing me with an excuse to not answer the door after 7:30.

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