Thursday, 11 December 2008
Living Room: Packed
Dining Room: Packed
Master Bedroom: Packed
Finn's Room: Half Packed
Girls' Room: I don't want to talk about it.
Bathroom: Tonight's project.
Storage Room: I may just abandon this for the next tenant.
Laundry Mountain: Dented.
Monday, 1 December 2008
Then he's off to Afganistan for seven and a half months.
We'll finally have the same address and yet somehow be even further apart.
Murphey, you and your law both SUCK.
Life just got marginally easier.
- We got a house on base! Four bedrooms! We take possession NEXT WEEK (Dec. 8th)!!!
- I messed up my back and am having difficulty even lifting Finnigan or getting out of bed. Luckily, I now get to pack an entire house by myself. That should help. Not.
- I am bird sitting my brother's fiance's parrot. His name is Eli. He is a shameless flirt, and squawks his little bird brains out unless I am patting him, and giving him kisses, and paying attention to him. He is going to go home in a few days having learned a new phrase - "SHUT UP, BIRD!"
- The kids (all three) spent a day and a night at Gramma's house while Mommy, daddy, and uncle Bear and auntie Leslie went on a double date. It was the first time the baby had spent the night away from his momma, and he didn't even miss me. Rotten little snot head. He's lucky he's cute.
- My husband got a craving for popcorn last night, and instead of using the popcorn maker in the cupboard, he drove 20 mins EACH WAY to the most local theater and bought movie theater popcorn for dollars on the penny. Thus, he doesn't bat an eyelash over my 11pm cravings for dim sum, candy apples, and goldfish crackers. "Indulgent" is his middle name!
- Finnigan is obsessed with picking the smallest little bits of things up and handing them to me. The other day he decided that the freckles on my arm were one of these such things, and spent at least a half an hour trying to pinch and pick them off to give them to me. Simple things...
Monday, 24 November 2008
That was dumb.
I have a queen sized bed, usually all to myself. Sharing it with my 6'2", 200lb husband is cake. Sharing it with my 4'2", 40lb daughter made me want to go crawl into her bed. I honestly do not understand how someone so small can take up SO. MUCH. SPACE. She slept like a starfish, all flung out to all corners and also, she snores.
Laly is a bed hog. And a cover hog. And a pillow hog.
My night went like this: Fall asleep on my side of the bed. Wake up an hour later with a hand/foot/bare bottom in my face. Straighten her out, SHOVE her back over to her side, roll over and go back to sleep. Fall asleep, wake up an hour later with a kneecap/elbow, or head jabbing me in the chest. Straighten her out, SHOVE her back over to her side, roll over and try to go back to sleep. Rince, repeat. I got no sleep. Now I'm tired, cranky, and I have a kink in my neck.
And she's back in my bed tonight. Sigh. Maybe I'll sleep here on the couch...
On the upside, both girls went to sleep without a peep! They definitly need their own rooms when we move. Good thing I bought them a damn bunkbed. Sheesh.
Sunday, 23 November 2008
There is no calling more pure than the call to be a parent. This amazing family has endured three painful miscarriages and years of infertility. They've got their angel babies up in heaven, but that does little to ease the ache of empty arms. They have so much love to give, let's help them get someone to give it to!
Now I may not have much, but I have this blog, and I have a simple request. Instead of donating to a nameless, faceless cause this year, please consider helping to change the lives of two very real, very deserving people. This is a goal we CAN reach, and I won't let up until we do.
100% of donations go towards paying for fertility treatments/surrogacy costs/adoption costs. We have zero operating costs, no salaries to pay, and no penny will wasted! We're just a network of people trying to make a difference. Please be a part of that!
Here's how to help: Locate the "Donate" button on my sidebar. Click that and follow instructions! Easy as pie. That money will be put into Krista and Daryl's secure account, and used solely in their pursuit to become loving parents to some lucky baby - whatever it takes.
If you can't do anything else, please visit her blog and send them some warm wishes. This means so much to them.
This Christmas, you can change lives. That's better than anything you could put under a tree.
Friday, 21 November 2008
C'mon guys, show some love - it takes 5 seconds.
Go HERE - and vote Chelsie Butts!
"Wii" love you Chelsie!
Thursday, 20 November 2008
Lily is a mvestor
(Lily is a movie star)
Oumbaua littl gur ous sad.
(One day a little girl was sad.)
intelourn bau se be ckama a mve stor
(Until one day she became a movie star.)
a se wus faumic
(And she was famous.)
The entire thing was written with a purple hilighter, so the transcription is as close as I can get it. I had her read it to me again to be sure of the translation though, so that much is accurate.
This girl's got aspirations!
Finnigan: Blah blah gooblety bliggery ba-ba-ba-dansk shoogle blah...
Me: Finnigan! Who's got a wet little tushie?
Finnigan : BATMAN!!! Blorgolgrshk manmeeee...
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
"Only contains ingredients people can spell"
Ok, not terribly funny in and of itself, but I can practically hear the giggling from the three people in this world who would understand why I laughed so hard I choked on a fry. (In fact, I laughed so hard that Finnigan initially laughed along, but then he began to look concerned and offered me a slobbery, flat, half chewed fry of his own...)
See, my mom can't spell. Like really can't spell. Once upon a time, she made up a grocery list and wanted my dad to buy a Sweet Potato. However, what she wrote down was Sweat Pototoe. That quickly became a running joke at our house. THEN she sent my brother and I to the store to buy one of those long skinny crusty breads. She wanted, and I quote, a "B-a-9-*" (at least, as near as we could decipher). We ended up having to call her and ask if she wanted a baguette or a bagel. We were practically rolling on the floor with glee at this point.
To this day, Bear and I will ask eachother if we want some B-A-nine-asterisk with dinner, or leave it written down on scraps of paper somewhere in the house.
I wished I had a sharpie. And a camera.
"Only contains ingredients most people can spell." But not you, mom.
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Kira says (7:54 PM):
Kira says (7:54 PM):
Andrew says (7:54 PM):
Kira says (7:54 PM):
Kira says (7:55 PM):
Andrew says (7:59 PM):
Kira says (7:59 PM):
Andrew says (8:01 PM):
love you too buddy
Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever seen??!? He wanted to talk to his daddy! Awwww, that's so sweet I just want to go get him out of his crib and kiss him all over his little self.
Cool, no? I'm not sure what to do with it, but I like it. It could be a magazine rack:
(I have too many magazines, apparently)
Or it could be a towel holder thingy:
(You can never have too many towels)
Lillian suggested I use it to hold all my purses:
(No wonder I can never find my lipstick!)
Monday, 17 November 2008
Earlier, the girls sorted the overflowing laundry hamper from the bathroom into four loads.
I'm sitting on the couch blogging, because I'm just beat from all the chores "I'm" doing.
I knew I had kids for a reason.
Sunday, 16 November 2008
Saturday, 15 November 2008
To be fair, it was used to install the new washer and dryer he bought me. I found them on Craigs List, brand new set, $200 for the pair!!! Whirlpool! Side-by-side! Extra-Large Capacity!!! They still have the protective plastic on them! The previous owners bought them and then when they moved into their new house they realised that, oops, what they needed was the stacked washer/dryer combo. Good for me. :)
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Rachel's word quota defies math. Somewhere there is a number high enough to account for all the words she crams into one day, but it has yet to be named. Never mind getting a word in edgewise, good luck getting a word in if she's concious. Nay, good luck if she's breathing. She talks when she's awake. She talks in her sleep. She talks in class. She talks when there's nobody there to talk to. She talks to strangers. She talks about strangers. She talks to strangers like she's their long lost friend, and she needs to catch them up on everything that has happened since her birth. She sings in the shower. She'll carry on both sides of a conversation. She's talking right now, and I put her in bed an hour ago.
The Daddy got her a toy phone for her birthday. I think The Daddy hates me. She ran the batteries dead in two days. Never mind saving for college, I'm saving for her first phone bill.
All I want for Christmas is a good set of earplugs.
Monday, 10 November 2008
Sunday, 9 November 2008
It was pretty funny watching him spin around and around in the tub trying to look at his own backside.
I don't know why I even bother putting bath toys in the tub with him. His own body is obviously much more fun to play with!
Saturday, 8 November 2008
Andrew and I met just after I turned 17, while living in Ontario. We were at a party thrown by a mutual friend, and he asked me for a kiss. In turn, I gave him shit for being so cocky when, and I quote, "You don't even know my last name!". This is now a running joke.
He moved in with me to the top floor of my parents house some four months later. Anything to get out of the military barracks, right dear?
Then came the posting to Edmonton. He had to leave. I didn't want him to go, and he didn't want to leave me. He decided he was going to quit the military and find work as a mechanic nearby. I gave him shit again, and suggested that instead I just come to Edmonton with him. My mom gave us both shit. We went anyway.
I got pregnant with Lillian shortly thereafter. Fourteen and a half months after she was born, I had Rachel. **Side note: Finn is 17 months old. I can't IMAGINE having him and a newborn!!!
When Rachel was four months old, we finally got married. Our wedding day was three days before my 20th birthday. Andrew likes to tell people that on his honeymoon, he slept with a 19 year old AND a 20 year old. I give him shit for that. He's mouthy that way. ;)
At some point he went on tour with the military to Afghanistan. :(
After we'd been married a few years, things kind of hit the skids. A lot of small issues led to a lot of big issues, which led to us separating and me moving with the girls to B.C. to be near my family. We lived in "Transitional Housing" for a while, which is kind of like a women's shelter but nicer. Picture living with your wealthy aunt, and a half-dozen female cousins with their children. We had a great house, chores, and locks on our bedroom doors. We lived there for about two months, and then got a place nearby in subsidized housing. That's the three-bedroom apartment we're in now. My rent is based off my income. Technically, with no income, I don't qualify to be here - so my landlord fudged the documents and said that I'm receiving Unemployment when I'm not. I already gave him verbal notice that I'm moving, so it's not going to be forever.
Andrew decided fairly quickly that whatever problems we had we could work through and be a family again. I don't know what I was thinking. I'd gone from my parents house right into my boyfriends house, and now I was on my own for the first time ever. I decorated the way I wanted to decorate, I watched what I wanted to watch on TV, I made all my own financial decisions, I got a job, went to school, and took care of the kids. I dated.
I dated a guy from work who is fourteen years my senior. I'd like to say I regret it, but I can't totally regret it, because he gave me Finnigan. In the end, all the things that had attracted me o him turned out to be... Not real. I'd been seeing something that wasn't really there. I couldn't stand his kids, and he struggled to get along with mine. He turned out to be a loser who is now renting a room in his brother's house, because even though he's had the same damn job for the last 12 years, he can't seem to manage to get his own apartment. He had no backbone, and eventually lost his lustre. I left him, and kept the pregnancy.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that what I really wanted was what had been there all along. When I'd found out I was pregnant, I couldn't imagine going through it with anyone but Andrew. He'd always, ALWAYS been there for me, and I feared that by the time I finally came around he'd have washed his hands of me for good. We went back and forth through most of the pregnancy, with Kevin (Finn's sperm donor) popping in and out of my life. It all came to a head around the time Finn was born, when Andrew told me he had a girlfriend, and he wanted her to meet MY kids. (Yes, I was irrational, OK?). I came unglued. Told him no way, no how, if he brought that slut (see? irrational) here we'd be gone and I'll see you in court thankyouverymuch.
Then it hit me. Uhhh, maybe I'm doing all this because *I* still love Andrew! It was like I always thought he'd be there, waiting in the wings, and that's what gave me the strength to move on and make my way in the world. I never thought he wouldn't be there, and I counted on him more than I realized. He was my rock, and I took him for granted. I gave me shit for that. Then I called him. I confessed everything. I begged forgiveness. I cried, and pleaded, and told him I loved him and that I was stupid. Queen Supreme Stupid in the land of Stupid People. He told me it might be too late. I died inside. He said he couldn't risk his heart again if I wasn't in it for life this time. I thought long and hard about that. I decided I was in it for life and set about convincing him.
Andrew's parents planned a trip to Disney world the August after Finn was born. Andrew was still living in Edmonton at the time, and his parents live overseas. They flew through here, picked up the girls, and left. The next day, Andrew flew me out with the baby. If we're going to try to be a family, we have to actually spend time together. So we did.
We've been putting our lives back together ever since. Andrew took a posting out to this province, the nearby base fell through so he got stuck on the island. We spend whatever time we can together, we've vowed to make it work. We are making it work. Step by step, we're putting the pieces back together. Undo the paperwork (we never filed an official separation, but we're separated as far as the military is concerned) get a house on base (we won't all fit in his bachelor pad!) and move allll our shit. I hate packing. I hate moving. But I love Andrew.
The girls are ecstatic, and Finn has never known any other daddy. Andrew loves that little boy to bits, and totally, completely, 100% accepts him as his own. Weirdly enough, Finn is the only child who has blue eyes like Andrew. We both giggle whenever a stranger says how much he looks like his daddy. (Kevin has dark brown eyes, mine are green.) We're going to renew our vows eventually.
So that's pretty much that. We've committed to making this work, we've been "back together" for more than a year now successfully after about two years apart. We talked a LOT, and we're learning and growing together as a couple and as a family. Truly, our relationship has never been better. I love this man, and I love our family, and sometimes taking a break can be the best thing for a relationship. Now we know what we have, and we'll fight tooth and nail to keep it.
Friday, 7 November 2008
Sigh. I'll pay my rent, and I'll call the electic company on Monday. Other than that... Who knows? I don't know. I wish I knew. I'm fresh out of ideas.
P.S. I don't qualify for welfare because Andrew actually pays child support. Too bad so sad for us.
- I signed up for the Food Bank. I've been twice this week. I got a lot of canned goods, then realized I don't own a damn canopener.
- I'm about $1000 short this month. I'm due to be cut off from my cable/internet, phone, AND power unless I pay it all by the end of this week. I'm going to call on Monday and cancel the cable/internet and pare my phone down to a basic plan, but that doesn't help what I already owe. Apparently, yes they CAN shut my power off with winter coming.
- All three kids need winter coats. The girls are wearing MY sweaters under their spring coats because baby, it's getting cold. Finn is wearing a fleece sweater I got him last year at a second-hand store under his raincoat, and no mittens. None of them have winter boots.
- Gas. It's coming down, but until it's free, we're doing a lot of walking. In the cold. In the rain. I'm not a bloody postman.
- I don't have prescription coverage, and the pills I'm on for Post Partum Depression are not cheap. Even the generic version. You don't want me unmedicated. I'm useless.
- I closed my credit card accounts (2), but they're going to collections because I can't make the minimum payments. I owe about $2500 total for both.
- I survive off the child support my husband sends. $1000/month. Rent is more than half that. Finn's bio dad has dropped off the face of the earth.
- Car Insurance. Tenancy Insurance. Need I say more?
- The BumGenius cloth diaper people are going to replace Finn's defective diapers. I can't afford the postage to send the defective ones to Ontario to be replaced.
- I haven't been shopping in, like, forever. I know that's trivial and stupid, and low on my list of priorities, but it makes me sad. I miss my beloved shopping.
- I went to see a financial planner. You know what she said? I've got more expenses than income, and that I needed more income. Gee, why didn't I think of that? She gets the Useless Advice of the Day Award.
- I'm selling stuff I have that I don't want/need, but the market for Crap & Clutter is only so big, and is slow as shit.
Bleh. I don't even have any real vices to indulge in. I don't drink, or smoke, or do drugs. I don't even particularly care for chocolate.
Oh yeah, and the baby has a cold so he's clingy and miserable and full of snot.
Tomorrow is another day. I can scarcely wait.
Monday, 3 November 2008
The wife's name is Kira.
The husband's name is Andrew.
FTR, these people are NOT US. They are much better looking, and have more money. These are the people we only wish we were. ;)
In true mommy fashion, I had no time to slow down and tend to it though. So, before I got the bleeding under control, I had to:
- Feed the baby.
- Make the baby a bottle.
- Change the baby.
- Put the baby to bed.
- Clean up the kitchen.
- Clean up the blood.
Of course, we all remember that Rachel has used up every band aid in the known universe, so I had to just blot blot blot and wait to clot. Fun.
Then I took a nap. I was a little worried about the bleeding as all my bedding is cream coloured, but I have accents of crimson anyway so I figured what the heck. It'll blend.
When I woke up, I again forgot about my dang elbow! Do you realize how many things you lean your elbow on in a given day? Lots. I know so because every time I find a new one, my newly gimpified elbow reminds me.
I'd post a pic, but I do. not. bruise. Like, ever. With all that blood and elbow hurtage, you'd think I'd be black and blue, right? Notsomuch. So it just looks like a paper cut, and you'd all call me a whiner. I'm tellin' you though, it feels like a bruise.
Yesterday, I was cleaning a piece of glass from a frame I'd pulled out of my storage room. My very sweet husband let me sleep in and took Finnigan out while the girls were at school, and got my new favorite picture blown up and printed.
Isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever heard??
I so happened to have a frame to fit it, but I didn't have anything to Windex it with, so I ended up washing it like a dish. It worked, except for the part where my hand slipped and I cut the inside of my knuckle open. It was the inside of my big knuckle on my ring finger of my right hand though. The most useless finger of all - especially for someone who doesn't usually wear jewelry. No matter. Just goes to show you how much of an accident magnet I am.
Andrew went home yesterday, so I don't even have anyone to whine to! Gah.
Sunday, 2 November 2008
DA! DA-DA! Da-da? DAAAAAA-DAAAAAA!!?! DADADADADADADADADADADADA!!!
Da-da da-da-da da-da?? Daaaaaaaaaaa-da?! D d d d d d d DA-DA! Da-da? Da-da? Da-da?
Da-daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Da-da! Do do do do do do DA-DA! HEEEEEEEEEEEEE Da-da!
Friday, 31 October 2008
Tuesday, 28 October 2008
Monday, 27 October 2008
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Saturday, 25 October 2008
Rachel was right in there!
Amazing how the cuteness of baby pigs wins you over:
He liked his pumpkin so much he was kissing it on the hayride home.
It was so much fun, and even better because daddy was there. We fed the animals at the petting zoo, and bought honey sticks from the resident bumblebees.
It was a fantastic family day!
Friday, 24 October 2008
Thursday, 23 October 2008
Why? Why say hurtful things at all? Yes, sometimes the truth hurts but needs to be said. But what if the hurtful thing is just an opinion? Worse yet, what if the hurtful things are an opinion based on very few facts, some misinformation, and a generally incomplete knowledge of the situation? What is to be gained then? Is it worth hurting someone in your life just to "get it off your chest"? Are there people in this world who think that hurtful words and actions are going to be the key to changing people they feel are making mistakes in their lives? Or is it more selfish, the adult version of "I'm better than you"? Surely such hurtful things could not have been said for purely altruistic reasons. Such things go beyond bloggity snark, beyond nameless, faceless interweb opinions. They head straight for the heart, and lodge themselves there in all their weighty glory.
I fail to see the benefit in being the recipient of such a monologue. Yes, I have examined what was said. All day long, I've been examining what was said. I do not agree. I know my life, I know my family, and I know what's in my heart. Nowhere in any of it did I find anything to lend merit to what was said. However, the hurt remains. The unnecessary hurt. What was done was not helpful, nor was it beneficial in any way. Alas, it IS done. All that's left is how to deal.
This is a flawed world, and I am a flawed person. Perhaps, in the views of some people, I am fatally flawed. We are all flawed. We alone decide which flaws we can change, which ones we choose to change, and which we must simply accept. In turn, others can decide if the perceived flaws of a person are worth putting up with to have that person in their lives. Sadly, it would seem I am not acceptable as-is. Even more sad - all the other relationships that stand to lose out because of this.
For that, I am deeply sorry.
In my life - I choose love. In my family - I choose love. In my heart - I choose love.
Perhaps it is not I who is so fatally flawed.
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
Did you go?
Basically, it's 100 days of SEX. With your SPOUSE.
I know, that was my reaction too. Wait, what? 100 days? Like, in a row? Yes. That's the idea. You commit to having sex with your partner at least once a day for 100 consecutive days. It's supposed to bring you (pardon the pun) "closer together". Something about putting your spouse higher on your priority list where they're supposed to be. You now, ABOVE loading the dishwasher and watching TV. Sex breeds intimacy, which in turn brings about all those tender warm and fuzzy feelings, and those supposedly make you actually want to spend time with that person and diffuses all kinds of tension (on so many levels).
The phenomenon of actually sleeping with your own significant other is sweeping Blogland. AFRo is doing it (no pun intended), Bad Mommy is giving it a go (again with the puns!), their readers are jumping on board (seriously now!), and they're all saying it's not as hard as it sounds (ok, that one was bad - heeheehee). Even the Big O (that would be Oprah, you pigs) did a show on it. THIS woman had to do us all (lol) one better and sleep with her husband every night for an entire year. Show off.
The Mommy has a built-in excuse. The Daddy is $100 worth of gas-and-ferry away. The Hundered Day project would quickly become the $10, 000 project. Not to mention the cost of all the alcohol that would be required... Post move I will have to be more creative in my avoidance.
But hey, the cold weather is coming right? Go on, get yours. Lower the thermostat and git yer fires lit from within.
I wonder if this will lead to a blogger baby boom?
You wanna know what he ended up wearing?
He wore a folded up change-table cover, with a maxi pad stuck in it for absorbancy. The whole thing was pinned together with a BCGEU union pin.
He loves his mama.
His mama loves him.
He is a little boy, but I can already see a man lurking beneath the surface.
I've got 16.5 years to pound it into something respectable enough to bring to dinner.
Monday, 20 October 2008
I'll bet you're losing money, aren't you? Personally, your commercials send me into KILL mode, and it's affecting my feelings towards your company. Your current commercial, the one for Dentastix? Yeah, that one makes me want to rent a car and drive over some puppies. A LOT of puppies.
I understand the premise, really I do, but it's the accompanying sound track that's gotta go. I'm down with the simple white background and the dog enjoying his treat, but how about some nice muzak to go along with it? Or even just the half-aroused sounding guy who moans on about your product, he's fine. Just GET. RID. OF. THE. CHEWING. SOUNDS.
Don't make me go all Crazy White Girl on you.
Puppies' lives are at stake. A LOT of puppies. Fix it.
(Seriously, I'm begging you. It makes my bloodpressure skyrocket. I broke my computer mouse by throwing it at the tv because I couldn't find the remote fast enough...)
Sunday, 19 October 2008
My house smells DE.LIC.IOUS.
So, who's coming for dinner?
(Seriously, it's like a 5lb roast, and it's just the kids & I. Bring dessert.)
Saturday, 18 October 2008
Lily has been whining for a few
A big, yellow, full-to-bursting puss-filled gum pimple. Staring at me through it's multiple heads.
No wonder her gums hurt.
We did the salt wash. We did the prescription mouth wash (leftover medication - shhhh. Rinse 'n' spit.) She whined. Incessantly. We even tried the warm compresses to try and draw it out.
Finally I couldn't take the whining anymore. We're going to DEAL with this thing!
She FREAKED when she saw me get the pin. FREAKED OUT. No faith, no faith at all.
I numbed her out with anebesol (thanks Finn!) and barely touched it with the pin, and KABLAMMO! Pus was literally running out of it. Like I say, the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. Yellow gross pus was running down her chin, mixing with the snot and tears and a bit of blood for good measure. Two paper towels and another dab of anebesol later, she's nearly good as new. Watching her try to rinse out her mouth was fun though, I guess the drool had swirled the numbing stuff around and made her whole mouth feel "thick". She didn't feel the water until she drooled it all over her clothes. She's laid up in bed now with a cold pack to shrink the swelling.
So, SO gross. I didn't realize I was signing up for this shit when I had kids.
Anybody know what I can do for these stupid trees that's more effective than shooting rubber bands at them? Because while that is fun, I know I'll just have to go pick them all up...
Friday, 17 October 2008
Ok. I'm ok now. Glad I got that out.
Do you think I can petition God for shorter days? Or maybe just less waking hours for those under the age of 21? That'd be great. Hellions #1 and #2 were ALL. UP. in my face today. School is not long enough. Not by half. They destroyed the house - the house that was so spectacularly pristine when we returned from our trip. The house I spent hours pristine-ifying before we left, so that it would be so lovely to come home to. Destroyed. I wanted to take pictures for you all to show you, but my camera is missing among the wreckage. Six minutes to bedtime, and then I can begin to move mountains. If I don't post for a while, send a search party out, k?
Hellion #3 is on my last nerve. He is into EVERYTHING. He's just so. busy. He goes into drawers in the kitchen and scatters utensils everywhere. Then he picks things out of the "dirt pile" from my sweeping efforts and eats them. Then I have to figure out what they were, and whether or not it warrants a trip to the ER. No sooner do I get the sweepings into the garbage, then he's pushing buttons on my computer and doing who knows what. He makes my keyboard go into Spanish mode, and I still don't know how to fix that aside from smashing my open hand on it like he does until I hit the magical mystical combination that makes it all better. While I'm sorting that out, he's back to the drawer. Then the bottles for recycling, setting them up so that when I open that cupboard later, they all come cascading out like a waterfall. He will not stop stealing my lipgloss. He loves it. What a freak. I can't even pen him in, because he knows how to climb now. He stacks his toys up in his
Honey, find us a house with a rubber room, k? The Mommy is going to need one.
Thursday, 16 October 2008
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
(The ones "off the face of the earth", not... Nevermind.)