Virtuous

Today I took a vitamin.

I cannot even begin to share my joy with you that I finally remembered to. I bought them about 2 weeks ago and they have been sitting forlornly on my counter, giving me puppy-dog eyes whenever I walked in and out of the kitchen.

This evening, as I walked through the kitchen for the millionth time, I finally decided to open the package.

Horse pills, oh glorious horse pills. These were some seriously big multi-vitamins. And a sort of concentrated urine colour too. Not the most appetizing of appearances.

I choked that mother down and am feeling quite virtuous. I am a healthy mo-fo. (Or at least taking some baby-steps in that direction).

In my quest for other things that are virtuous, I found a few…

This quite interesting blog about thrifty living. And some cute tricks for putting together inexpensive decorations for the house…

I also discovered this wonderful book. ‘Virtuous Vampire’? How intriguing! To quote one reviewer “I loved The Virtuous Vampire. The heat and attraction between Abbie and the Alpha Male Lucan was hot and sexy.”

Hot and sexy. And apparently virtuous as well.

The more I googled about virtuous, the more it became clear that swallowing that vitamin maybe didn’t bring me quite to the level of virtuosity as these other women I ran into while surfing. A lot of Christians. Not that that is a bad thing, I was just surprised by the amount of passion for virtuous living and God. And breastfeeding.

I probably am not as virtuous as all these people espousing their love for God, clean and proper living (and behavior)… and, of course, breastfeeding.

Apparently I am on a different ‘virtuous life-style’ path. It’s a ‘eat lots of citrus fruit, drink decaf tea, takes horse-pill-sized vitamins,  exercise almost, daily drink lots of water’ life path. With yoga. And no breastfeeding.

To each his own, eh? (that’s a bit of Canadian for ya’ll… and that’s a bit of the South too).

Off to finish my decaf and crawl into bed to virtuously write my Xmas cards…

xoxo a.m.

Epic Lighting

As this Christmas season pulls up, M and I are gearing up for ‘YAY!’.

With our first house, we both really feel like we can really put effort into outside house decor.

So.

We went to Home Depot. And then to Lowes. And then back to Home Depot again.

Eventually we emerged with lights. The selection of lights involved us breaking out the calculator app on M’s crap phone to estimate if our choice was a ‘good buy’ or not. It was. Only took 35 minutes to decide upon.

We got home, V went down for a nap and M broke out the big ladder and started hanging lights for the FIRST TIME IN HIS LIFE.

And I watched him FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE.

We have no idea what we are doing. Other people on our street have such nice displays, we are rather jealous. How do they do it? Do they plan? Diagrams? Blue prints? What exactly?

Anyways, we just went and bought some stuff… And some hanger-ish things.

We had a few issues with, well, lots of stuff.

And so I was sent off to Home Depot to ask ridiculous questions while M made festive beef stew for us to enjoy in this cold Florida weather.

Ridiculous Question #1: “Where do I find a double ‘male part’ extension cord?”

Ridiculous Answer #1: “Um. They don’t exist. Did your husband hang the lights up backwards?”

Me: “Maybe. I don’t know and I am not going to ask.”

V was currently on one hip, runny nose and one sticky finger up one nostril (Yay discovery!). My other hand was clutching a few packages of window clings. I was wearing slippers.

Ridiculous Question #2: “It looks like we are going to end up with some dangling male-parts hanging from our roof. I don’t want to leave it so exposed. Is there anything I can insert it into to protect it?” (I was actually talking about extension cords. I realize I should now not ever use the term ‘male parts’ ever again)

Ridiculous Answer #2: *blank stare*

Ridiculous Answer #3: “Just use some tape.” He then shook his head and walked away.

V, our window clings and my slippers left Home Depot quickly. I called M.

“Hey. It’s me. It doesn’t exist. Ya. Next time, YOU get to ask… *click*”

Our lights are slightly crooked and not as beautifully blue-printed as some of our neighbours. And there still are ‘dangling male parts’ hanging off of my roof.

Looks so gorgeously amateur, it really couldn’t look any more beautiful.

xoxo a.m.

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.

Big Kids

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.

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.

Mobile

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….

 

 

 

Crochet, Part One

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….

 

Project

Who knew people crocheted skank clothes?

 

Last year I did a lot of crocheting… I made a wee baby blanket for my girlfriend, a wee one for myself (anticipating the arrival of the Little Man), a shawl to snuggle him in while I was breastfeeding. As winter approached, I decided that making a ‘big-boy’ was a wonderful idea too.

How nice for him to have something made by his Mummy to snug the face into at night and keep those toes warm during the harsh Floridian winters… I happily spent my lunch hours and evenings unraveling my many mistakes and raveling them back up…

Post-crochet explosion in our house (and post-pregnancy as well), that yarn that Little Man so helpfully chose for me (by putting it in his mouth) started to grow some bunnies. Dust bunnies, that is… I moved the project from its prominent position in the living-room and its travel bag for its work commute, to another bag in our bedroom. And then that bag was hung up in our closet. And then it started to get warm again and suddenly the whole purpose of the blanket was not so emergent anymore.

I had lots of time to work on it. And because I had lots of time to spend on it, I spent no time at all.

None.

That’s  the way it works, right?

And then we went to Canada.

And then we decided to buy a house.

And then we bought one.

And then we moved.

And now? We are settled. And to kick off this wonderful cool temperature that seems to be moving into the Central Florida area, I thought it would be nice for V to have a blanket to snug his face.

Apparently I only have so many ideas and they just rotate throughout the year… Sad.

Last night I couldn’t find my crochet bag. Slight panic. M managed to pull it out of somewhere. Hallelujah!

I pulled my little project out of its bag and was shocked.

SHOCKED!

It was teeny.

It might as well have been a place mat.

How was he ever that little?! Looking at it and then remembering him from this morning, imperiously shouting ‘Mumma!’ at me, while pointing at his bottle I had in my hands and then toddling off to watch Murray from Sesame Street talk about the ‘Word on the Street’.

Last night I spent the evening unraveling that loving creation, feeling a little weepy while I was doing it. It took about 45 minutes, but there was just no saving it. It was too small and no amount of frilly fringe would make it big enough to cover the man-child. And frilly fringe would just be a bad call. Really bad call…

So here we go again… Starting tomorrow, I mean. And yes, it will be chronicled. Expect updates.

It will be made this winter, damn it!!

The Ladies

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…

Suck it up, Mummy

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.