Saturday, 31 May 2008

Kira Says...

Kira: Oh no, I left my glasses in the house!

Andrew: They're on your head, dear.

Thursday, 29 May 2008

Soooo... What do we think?




Trust me - you don't want pictures

Today Finnigan had a MAJOR EXPLOSION of poo. The really FOUL smelling, watery kind. In the middle of the dining room. Then he proceeded to plunk his chunky butt right down in the middle of it, and smmmmmmeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrr in in all directions as far as his little arms could reach. At this point it must have been quite slippery, because he reached his little arm out to perfect his fecal masterpiece, slipped, and did a perfect face-plant right into his mess. Lovely.


Double Ew.

Into the tub he went, clothes and (pointless!) diaper and all.

My amazing psychic powers tell me to expect MANY instances of Deja Vu regarding this incident in my not-so-distant future.

It may be time to lay off the fruit...

And where was I while this was all going on, you ask? All of four feet away, with my back turned, surfing the latest drama on BBC BHB of course!

He's a beast.

Tuesday, 27 May 2008


Hippos, with a side of giraffe:
Live, from the serengeti! (You have to look at this while listening to the sound track from "The Lion King")
Zebra, Giraffe:
I don't know what this is, but he's BIG:
This guy was just chillin'. I hope he's got sunscreen on...
Orang Utan:
Cool green snake:

BIG brown bear:
And his buddy, the other BIG brown bear:
Finnigan bein' cute:

The cutest little gorilla family ever - with brand new 7-month old baby girl!

This gorilla was sitting soooo close, and the girls were enchanted. Here's Lily showing him her necklace, and he was equally enchanted by her.
This fish could eat you:
The infamous "Pea Hawks", AKA Flamingos:

Red Raccoons:
My mom called this one "Brillo-Pad Head". He's some kind of Argus:
In our house, it's "Guilty until proven Innocent":

We went, we saw, we OD'd on lemonade and chili dogs. Go see the Woodland Park Zoo RIGHT NOW!!!

Monday, 26 May 2008

Lillian and Rachel say:

Rachel: My favorite part of the zoo was the ducks and the pigs and the Pea Hawks.

Mommy: Rachel, we didn't see any pigs, and it's peacock.

R: Oh yeah, well they were my favorites. Because they're pink.

M: Those were flamingos, sweetie.

Rachel: Oh.

Lillian: Mommy, are ALL the pea hawks pink, or just the girls?

Mommy: They're flamingos, and yes, they're all pink.

L: But why aren't the boy pea hawks blue?

M: Peacocks ARE blue. The flamingos are pink.

L: But why aren't the PINK pea hawks blue?

M: Because they're flamingos, and they're pink because... Something about what they eat. It makes them pink.

L: If I eat what pea hawks eat, will I turn pink?

M: Flamingos, and no. You're as pink as you're going to get.

R: I think the pink pea hawks looked like princess pea hawks.

M: Flamingos.

R: Gramma even BOUGHT me a pea hawk.


L: I'm naming my pea hawk--


L: OK! But I'm naming it Sleeping Beauty!

(Right about now, the word "flamingo" started sounding REALLY weird.)

R: I wish my pea hawk was real.

M: Rachel, honey. Focus. It's a FLAMINGO.

L: But mine's a pea hawk, right mommy?

M: Does yours look just like Rachel's?

L: Yes.

M: Then it's a flamingo too.

L: Oh. Why?

M: *Openly weeping* I don't KNOOOWWWWW!!! Dear GOD MAKE THE TALKING STOP!!!

I always knew they were feral...

Finnigan Thinks:

Stupid zoo. Stupid stroller. Mommy made me wear this stupid hat. Gotta be outside in the stupid fresh air. They won't even get me a stupid ice cream cone... *pout*

Oooooh, Puuuurrrty!

Camoflage - You're doing it BEAUTIFULLY!

Seattle Trip, Part I: Crab Pot Restaurant!

This is the face Finnigan makes EVERY TIME a camera is pointed at him:

Lillian, making a rather creepy face:
My mom, Michele, and our FEAST. Y-U-M-M-Y!!!
Rachel, hamming it up:
Finnigan LOVVVVVING his first crab leg! (See? There's that face again)
Finnigan liked the mussle shells more than the rubber boogers mussle meat inside.

This restaurant is awesome, seriously. You should check it out.

Just WOW

Laws Against Drunk Driving in Other Countries:

Australia: The names of the drivers are sent to local newspapers and areprinted under the heading "He's Drunk and in Jail."*
Malaya: The driver is jailed; if he's married, his wife is jailed too.
South Africa: A 10-year prison sentence and/or the equivalent of a $10,000 fine.
Turkey: Drunk drivers are taken ten miles from town by the police and forced to walk back under escort.*
Norway: Three weeks in jail doing hard labor, and a one-year loss of license. Second offense and license is revoked for life.
Finland and Sweden: Automatic jail for one year doing hard labor.*
Costa Rica: Police remove plates from car.*
Russia: License revoked for life.
England: One-year suspension of license, a $250 fine, and jail for one year.
France: Three-year loss of license, one year in jail, and a $1,000 fine.
Poland: Jail, fine, and forced to attend political lectures.
Bulgaria: A second conviction results in execution.*
El Salvador: This country is unique in that it has absolutely no repeat offenders: drunk driving is punishable by execution by firing squad.*
Canada: Your namby-pamby ass gets sent home to your cushy bed, and you have to go tell a judge, sometime, why you did a naughty thing. My kids get in more trouble when they chew with their mouths open at the dinner table.
*Items marked with an asterisk are the ones I especially loved. :)

Lillian Says:

Lillian: Mommy, why is that building moving?

Mommy: Because it's a boat, sweetie.

Saturday, 24 May 2008

Thoughts on teeth.

Finnigan has 6 teeth. Lillian just lost her 5th, with another hanging on by a thread. Coincidence? Or does the toothfairy keep tabs on these things? Like, each family can only have x number of teeth at any given moment. Maybe I should donate a few of mine before Lily loses so many teeth she's stuck eating food Finnigan has long mastered. I have enough trouble keeping meat on her bones feeding her a carefully concocted diet of red meat-and-fried foods with a carb-and-lard chaser. Sometimes, when she's sleeping, I make her drink bacon fat. Daddy's high-protein muscle-building shakes double as chocolate milk. I add baby cereal to her juice and make smoothies. And STILL, if you turn her sideways, she dissappears. This vindictive beyotch of a toothfairy is NOT HELPING. If she loses any more teeth I'm going to have to hook her up with a IV of sour cream and mayonnaise.

I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

Re-Tag! I'm It!

I got tagged again, this time Bridget did it. However, I'm pretty sure I've already done this one. Ah yes, HERE it is. Let's pretend I retag all the same peeps, and they've probably already done it too and passed it on. These damn tags are like blog viruses! Lol. ;) However, read Bridget's blog, because she's one cool chicka.

That's all.

Friday, 23 May 2008


Just because compiling it all took a long time, and because it's my blog and I'll post what I want to!

HOUSEHOLD: ß Ikea Cutlery, $10 ß 4-Cup Compact Coffeemaker, $10 ß Stoneware Nesting Bowls - Set of 3, $10 ß Gray Marble Lazy Susan, $10 ß Heart-Shaped Cake Pans (2), $5 ß Fruit-Motif Fruit Bowl!, $5 ß Candle Gazebo, $5 ß Large Glass vase, $10
BABY + KIDS ß TONKA Boots, Boys size 5 BNWT, $20 ß Lullaby Glowworms BNIB (2), $10ea. ß Baby to Toddler Bath/Shower Set, $20 ß Children’s Wooden Rocking Chair, $20 ß Giant Stuffed Horse, $20 ß Barely-Used Evenflo Travel System, $160 ß One-Shoulder Snugli, $20 ß Children’s Suspender Costumes (3), $10ea ß BNWT BabyGap Shoes Size 3, $20 ß LOT of Girls Toys, $20 ß LOT Toddler Boy Clothes, $10 ß Baby Boy Starter Kit/Stash/Gift Basket, $40
MISC. ß Vintage Vanity/Dressing Table, $400 ß Antique Pine Bedside Table, $50 ß Authentic Oilers Jersey NEW, $40 ß Fruit Motif Tealight Lamp, $7 ß Big Blue Glass Bottle, $7 ß Corn Husk/Straw Type Lady, $3 ß Candle in Decorative Ceramic Jar, $5 ß Christmas Chime Decoration, $3 ß Clear/Amber Glass “Purse”, $6 ß Radio/Tape Deck from ‘98 Malibu, $10 ß Makeup Train Case, $15 ß Green Wall-Mounted Tri-fold Mirror/Shelf, $20 ß Palm Tree Mini Desk, $10 ß Keychain Digital Camera, $10 ß Roots Computer Bag, $25 ß Basic Alarm Clock, $5 ß Basic Christmas Tree Stand, $10 ß KAMA SUTRA, $20
*Most prices are negotiable!*

Yeah, call me. ;)

Thursday, 22 May 2008

100th POST! Taking stock of life:

Being that this is my 100th post - a very special milestone, if you ask me - I had a heck of a time coming up with something that would have a lasting impact on everyone who reads this blog. Something that would go down in history as changing the world. Maybe I could cure world hunger! Or bring peace to earth. Or maybe just figure out how to get a tank of gas for less than $60CAD... Failing ALL of that, I've decided to instead take stock of my own life. My personal history, thus far.

Self: Working on it. I've got a few overly-friendly pounds I'm wishing adieu, but not actually doing anything to show them the door. My hair is still frizzy, and I've still got freckles. I'm officially out of my "growing" years, so I seem destined to forever be 5' tall. I'd like whiter teeth. This is my major physical change I'd like to do. I'm down with my skin, it's still wrinkle-free. I've resigned myself to a life with absolutely shapeless eyebrows. I'm otherwise in perfect health. I've managed to keep all my own limbs thus far, and am learning to function on children-induced brain fade. My memory sucks, as do my math skills. No significant illnesses or medications. No life trauma other than the totally-normal-for-my-age loss of two grandparents, parental divorce, growing-up pains, and stretchmarks from bringing THREE kids into this world. I can see, hear, smell, taste, touch, think, speak and walk all by myself, with all proper, god-given appendages. I don't drink, smoke, or pop my gum. I've never gotten a traffic ticket (that I actually had to pay, see this post). Never been to jail, except in Monopoly, though I saw Alcatraz once. I've spent a fair share of time in the hospital, but I'm all better now. I've never fired a gun, never been robbed, never had anything of any significance stolen (insignificant things, however, are another post). Done a thing or two I'm not overly proud of, but nothing that impacted the rotation of the earth. I've never killed anyone. I have killed a great number of spiders, goldfish, and assorted creepy-crawlers. Try to not hold that against me.

Family: Working on that too. I have a husband, and one day we'll actually live together again. Our marriage bottomed out for a while, but we got our shit together and I think we're doing better than ever! Hey, once you hit rock bottom there's nowhere to go but up, right? Communication truely IS key. Three kids - all great. Two girls and a boy. More (hopefully) to follow, once we are all under one roof and I have a career that entails more than paper-pushing for somebody higher up. It's a 5-ish year plan in progress. My extended family is, for the most part, a train wreck. But I love them all anyway.

Career: Just read this post. This post too. Save me the time. Yet another aspect of my life that I'm working on. One day I'll be rich and famous for doing something I like to do and am good at, but that day is not today.

Home: Hmmm. Fine. Perpetual laundry and dishes, mopping and scrubbing. This is just a house though, a home will be something I have when I can stop throwing my money down the drain by renting. When Dear Husbands job is stable enough (meaning we're going to be in one place long enough) to buy, we will. I've got plenty of wishes and dreams, now I just need the walls.

Aspirations: Get my shit together so I'm on time, in the loop, and never playing catch-up. Cut out the bad in my life, embrace the good - people, places, AND things, as well as the intangible. Make more friends that I have stuff in common with. Make more of an effort to stay in touch with the ones I already have. Be more patient with those who deserve it. Be more direct with those who deserve that. Stick up for myself. Overhaul my finances and get THAT shit together - do it while I'm not in over my head. Stop and smell life's roses. Hold my babies tight, and photo/written document EVERYTHING. Take many, many more pictures. Actually sit down and write the damn books that have been taking up valuable brain-space, and get them out in the world. Put family FIRST. And second. And third. Learn how to properly apply eyeliner. Do a "Clean Sweep" of my wardrobe. Then do one for the rest of the house. Smile more, before I get frown lines. Learn to cook edible food. Master French. Learn sign language. Get off my duff. Be a little meaner sometimes - grow a backbone. Live to be 121 years old.

I think that about sums me up. Onward and outward!

Monday, 19 May 2008

I'd just like to remind you all...

.... that today is officially Two Weeks Until I Return To Work. Which one of you wants to take me out to lunch my first day back?

I'm actually really excited.

About the lunch, that is.

Saturday, 17 May 2008

Uh, oh yeah.

Tonight, for dinner, we had this:

Completely forgetting about this:


Thursday, 15 May 2008

Thith ith thtill THO thweet!

Lily was at a playdate today, bashed her face off of her friends bunkbed, and knocked out her two front teeth. Do we carry collision insurance with the toothfairy?

Wednesday, 14 May 2008

What do I win?

I was right. FWIW, I'm always right. ;) I got busted down to File Clerk. Technically, I'm the assistant to the executive assitant to the VP of Construction. WEverTF that means. In the General Managers words, "the whole company is slowing down. The US projects are dead, there's massive layoffs in the states, and we'll be scratching to find work for you. Filing will not be a permanent full time job, but that's what you're doing for now".

Loosly translated, I think that means my ass is on the line. Fuckers.

  • My new supervisor loves me, and I genuinely like her.
  • She knows EVERYTHING. Working for her will be the best education into the window business I could get, ever, anywhere.
  • My new job will not be stressful, and will leave me plenty of time for office gossip and tea breaks.
  • My new supervisor will not care how much I fuck around, because she spends half her day outside on a smoke break.
  • I can wear all the pencil skirts and icepick heels I want.
  • In the past, my new supervisor has bought me lunch, so long as I bring something back for her. She has a weakness for pickles from a certain deli nearby; information I continually use to my advantage.
  • Because of above, I know her banking PIN.
  • She knows ALLLLLLLLL LL L LLL the dirty little company secrets!
  • There is nowhere to go but up.
  • I don't gotta work with the Sperm Donor. Though technically I'm the assistant to the executive assistant to the SD's boss. I'll have to find some way to use that to my advantage...


  • My new job is mindless busywork.
  • I'm not doing what interests me.
  • I'm not doing what I'm good at. Mainly because I really don't give a shit about filing.
  • I don't get my own office. (Not that I had one before, but I'm still pouting.)
  • My new supervisor smells like a damp ashtray. ALL. THE. TIME.
  • My new supervisor thinks/talks/loves her dogs as if they were children. she almost cried when I told her I hate the whole barking, panting, licking, shedding, poop-eating species.
  • I can smell a layoff coming.

I just hope they let me sneak in all my necessary hours before they lay me off so I can claim EI again. Pending that, I shall let them all live.

All in all, it's a positive deal, and I am excited to get back there. I miss talking to grownups. I miss taking a half hour at lunch for ME. I miss dressing up!

T-minus 19 days...

Monday, 12 May 2008

Lets see where my brain goes...

I have complete writers block. I'm sitting here, staring at my blog, waiting for some pearl of wisdomosity to form that I can bestow on you, my dear readers. And I've got...


So, I decided to just start typing, and see where my brain takes me. And, GO.

(Insert theme song from "Jeopardy")


*Still waiting*

Hmmm, ok. Let's start with work. I'm due to return to work in T-minus three weeks. This was a positive thing up until a week ago, when my former supervisor informed me that he has no positions available within his department. See, this is the beauty of Canadian Maternity Leave. Your employer has to hold a position for you, but it does not necessarily have to be the one you vacated when you left. Ergo, whilst when I left I wrote training and procedural manuals, when I return I could be a file clerk. Or a mail distributer. Or a human resource manager. Or a personal assistant. Or a fabricator. Or an installer. The possibilities are endless, really. My money is on the file clerk, though. I'm CHOKED.

I wrote a very kindly worded email (with gritted teeth) to the general manager reiterating about a thousand times my STRENGTHS and PREFERENCES, even though I know that they won't make one iota of difference. It has come to my attention that companies are run solely by power-hungry egomaniacs, and the peon that dares work in anything short of management should be beaten down and condescended to at every turn. However, my intent was not to give them a piece of my mind, but to get everything down in black-and-white. My company, in particular, has a nasty little habit of saying "that never happened/was said/was sent to me/blah blah blah" and well, I'm wilier than that. Here's a bit of crucial advice to anyone surfing the interwebz who has pull in a company of ANY kind. Never try to fuck with someone who is smarter than you are. They'll realize when you're trying to blow smoke up their ass, and more than likely you'll end up eating it plus interest in the form of bad publicity/legal action. Now, I'm not smarter than all the higher-ups in my company, (I speak better english TO BE SURE) but I discovered a long time ago that it is far harder to argue with written evidence than it is to argue he-said/she-said. Ergo, a completely documented and colour-coded copy of all correspondence betwixt myself and my employers has been maintained, by me, and sent, by me, to any and all people I can think of would possibly need/want/get a kick out of one. Because I'm an ass like that. My boss, his boss, the president and CEO, the human resource guy, the general manager, and a few other buddies I have there just for fun. Argue with THAT, suckas. I can't take all credit for this though, it was all Dear Hubby's idea. Because he's an even bigger ass like that. ;)

So, Monday June 2nd at 7am, I shall either be unemployed (and seeking legal action) or doing something for a company that wouldn't know it's ass from it's elbow if handed a map. I've oh-so-politely requested that somebody, anybody, contact me to tell me which position they've "found" for me before I show back up on my first day. Because being assigned field duty would really be a bitch in my standard uniform of tight pencil skirt and icepick heels. Plus, as any fellow curly-haired gal can attest, hard-hat-hair is sooooo not sexy.


Please tell me your company is full of secret hidden evil agendas and run by a handful of power-tripping assholes who would sooner sell you down the river for their mistakes than aknowledge your own validity.

Or don't, because if the whole world is this pathetic I might just check out now.

Sorry for being the Bitter Betty, y'all. I'll think of something so utterly blogtastic you'll all forgive me tomorrow. That, or I'll just slip you all Xanax. That's good too.

Sunday, 11 May 2008

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Thanks for enduring the hemmorhoids, bloating, aches, pains, waddling, and peeing when you sneezed.

Thanks for squishing me out. ;)

Thanks for millions of diaper changes, sleepless nights, and not losing me at the supermarket. (Permanently, anyway...)

Thanks for feeding me.

Thanks for teaching me how to walk, talk, and tie my shoes. Thank you for teaching me I can be/go/do anything I want. I will.

Thank you for not killing my smart-ass self at any point during my teen years.

Thank you for all your support and love all throught the years, no matter what, forever and ever amen.

Thank you for loving my babies, even if they made you a Gramma too young. :)

I love you!

Friday, 9 May 2008

Fun With Google

There's a fun game making it's way around the interwebz. Google your name, followed by the word "needs". IE, I googled "Kira needs". This is what it gave me:

  • Kira needs call screening so that when a lunatic Cardassian calls her up, ...
  • Kira needs to sleep with somebody.
  • YouTube: Kira needs to sleep with somebody. (Yikes)
  • Kira deserves to rescue little ratz because she successfully passed her driving test today!!!
  • Kira needs ice skates.
  • Kira needs a middle name.
  • Kira needs a tutor. (Probably true, but for which subject?)
  • Kira needs a name and face to kill. (SHOOTKILLMAIMDESTROY everything.)
  • Kira needs an avvie-maker. (And then someone to tell her what that is)
  • Kira adjust to a normal life safe from harm. (Awww.)
  • Kira needs me. (And you would be...?)
  • Kira needs to make the color blue.
  • Kira needs to get a life, she is a hard grader, unfair, mean and cruel in her grading. (Ass Kissing: You're doin' it wrong.)
  • Kira Needs Money for a Personal Electronic Device. (This one made me shoot pepsi out of my nose. Now Kira Needs a new keyboard...)

Now do you. You know you want to!

8 o'clock and counting...

Our Movie Night Extravaganza started an hour ago. For the record, I've already gone through half a stick of butter, four cups of popcorn kernels, half a bottle of chocolate sauce, and FOUR LITRES OF MILK. We've had three fairly serious spills, two different children have had to go home and change, and I'm the proud new owner of a brand new, authentic Pop Corn Carpet. And we're only halfway through the movie.

One kid is three and doesn't speak a word of english. Well, no english I can understand anyway. "Dee dan di da door dot dah-dat" apparently means "please can I have more hot chocolate" though. See? We're making progress.

One kid is four and is completely enthralled with my microwave. He doesn't even care that it's not running, he just wants to push the button that opens the door, then close the door and repeat. Click, Slam! Click, Slam! Click, Slam! He's shown all the other children at least three times, too.

One kid reminds me of Moleman on The Simpsons. You know the one, the voice of dissent among the herd.

Me: Who wants a marshmallow in their hot chocolate?
Kids: ME!
Molekid: No thank you.

Me: Did everyone have enough popcorn?
Kids: YES!
Molekid: No.

Me: Which movie should we watch?
Molekid: Enchanted!

Sigh. Did I mention that Molekid was one of my own? That's right sweetie, dare to be different.

One kid, whenever they come here, goes into the dressup box and finds the panda costume and immediately puts it on. And wears it until they leave. So I have 10 regular children and one panda bear. I'm down with that, so long as it doesn't eat the bamboo in my bathroom.

Currently I have three kids actually watching the movie, one kid playing bubblebath in my bathroom sink, one kid ClickSlamming my microwave, one child trying in vain to extort money from the other children for attending this evenings festivities, two children on my front porch "getting fresh air" one kid gone home to change (again) and one has fallen asleep. And one panda bear wandering aimlessly throughout.

How long is this movie, anyway?

Wish me luck...

The girls have their cousins coming for a sleepover. This makes 5 children overnight. Then we got the brilliant idea to have a neighbourhood pajama party, and invite all the kids that are forever showing up on my doorstep to come over for popcorn, hot chocolate, and a video. We have six confirmed coming. Plus the original five. For at LEAST two whole hours. And I'm giving them all sugar.

Methinks I did not think this all the way through.

Letters to Celebretards

Dear Miley Cyrus:
You are an idiot. You have a HUGE teenage fanbase who have made you all your money. You're FIFTEEN. Stop trying so hard to find adult roles, and milk the hell out of the teen ones while you still can! You've got all the time in the world when you actually ARE an adult to PLAY an adult. But once you're in your late thirties trying to play a highschooler, we're all going to think you are pathetic and make fun of you. This is the nature of life: First you are a baby, then a child, then a teenager, then an adult. No going backwards, always forwards, until you are old and nipped and tucked and botoxed into complete immobility. Be a teen. The adult stuff will wait.



Dear Angelina Whore-lie, er, Jolie:
If you're going to be a homewrecker, at least have the balls to marry the guy. While you're busy teaching your children to save the world, don't forget to teach them how to destroy marriages and families like you did. Furthermore, children are not "collectibles". If you want to own a group of ethnically diverse little people, go buy "It's A Small World" from Disneyland. Being adopted is hard enough, but to be completely removed from your own heritage, and to grow up having no one around who looks like you and shares your particular quirks is like living as a robin among wrens. Just because something walks like a duck and quacks like a duck - that don't make it no damn duck. Last, but not least, maybe try putting your unborn baby (babies?) ahead of your own selfishness, k? Flying a plane in your last trimester - Not Good. Not eating while preggo so that you maintain your skeletal figure - also Not Good. Collecting children like baseball cards and then pawning them off on a nanny so you can go have your picture taken with someone elses children on the other side of the world - Your priorities are fucked up. Are you a humanitarian? Maybe. Or maybe you're just faking it so that the fans who foot your paycheck will forgive you for being such a tramp. Remember, just because the SCRIPT says you sleep together, doesn't mean you have to do it in real life.



Dear Britney Spears:
Step away from the... Everything. Get a big glass of water, lock yourself in your room, take two aspirin and call me in the morning. If you and your family were any more Walmart, you'd have a big white star lodged up your ass. Buried somewhere under all the Back Country Trash is actually a measure of talent. Find it. Nurture it. Because your only other choices are Professional Has-Been or Burger Flipper. Come to Canada - I'll teach you all about the wonders of Magic Cream for your most famous asset, and all this fresh mountain air will clear the Crazy right outta your head. Reality called, it misses you.



Dear Ms. Marla Maples:
You're old. Get over it.


Tuesday, 6 May 2008

Wax on, Wax... Still on.

This shall go down in history as my worst idea for at LEAST the last 24 hours. Two words: Pre-waxed strips. (Or is that two-and-a-half words?) Let me share my newfound wisdomosity with you. Leave the waxing to the professionals. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to wax any part of yourself that requires ANY of the following:

A: Wax.
B: You.
C: Contortionism.

You've been warned.

Lesson number one: Waxing HURTS.

Lesson number two: Water, soap, shampoo, bubble bath, toothpaste, shave cream, facial scrub, conditioner, moisturizer, bath salts, anusol, and Windex all fall squarely into the "Does Not Remove Wax" category. Milk Bath powder, dissolved in water, DOES. Oddly.

Lesson number three: Being professionally waxed, even if it means letting a stranger get ALLLLL up in your business is worth it. Just for the fact that you will not find yourself glued to your toilet seat with fingers covered in ripped-up shreds of everything you've touched.

Trust me.

Don't ask.

Bonus Lesson number four: No, hair-removal wax DOES NOT double as a nice paraffin wax spa treatment. Not even close.

Must... Not...


Ok, hmmm... Other things happening in my life...

Tomorrow I'm going to pick up a highchair I bought on Cr...

I'm also picking up a fishtank from someone else on...

Someone bought my...

No one's even interested in that thing I...

Well, I tried.

Monday, 5 May 2008

I'm tired.

And nothing interesting happened today.


Sunday, 4 May 2008

I'll be hearing about this for weeks...

Setting: In the car.
Players: Daddy, Rachel.
*Italicized items are occuring in my head. Much like most of my conversations.

Rachel: Daddy, what colour is your house?

Daddy: Pink.

Mommy: ????

Rachel: Pink?

Daddy: Yes. With purple polka dots.

Mommy: Ohhhhhh. This could be fun.

Mommy: And yellow stripes.

Daddy: And then on the inside it's purple, with pink polka dots and BLUE stripes.

Rachel: Wooooooooooooow. *Absolute awe*. That's BEAUTIFUL!

Mommy: *Cringe*

Nursery Rhymes for the Insane

AKA Anything sung by small children.

These are the songs I had to listen to alllllll the way to the Ferries and back, as sung by Lillian and Rachel.

Baa baa black sheep,
Any any wolf?

Twinkle twinkle little star,
Whycome you live up so far?
Uppa uppa world so high,
Twinkle twinkle you are crazy like the CROWS!
(Much hilarity followed)

And, my personal favorite:

Baa baa black sheep,

Rachel Says:

Rachel: Daddy, you used to live WAAAAAAAAY the other side of Canada.

Daddy: Rachel, I lived one province over.

R: Hockey is over?

D: Rachel, are you even listening to yourself?

R: No.


Rachel: Mommy, is it up to Daddy if we can go outside?

Mommy: You can go outside.

R: But is it up to DADDY?

M: Yes, go ask your father.

Another Rule for Craigslisting, ATK*

(*According To Kira)

12.) If you say you're going to come for something, PLEASE come for it! Not that I don't enjoy spending all day stuck at home with my piece of furniture you said you were "in love with", but in most cases I've got other people interested in the same piece who WOULD come and get it, but I've told them all it's pending YOUR pickup and then you never pick it up... Sheesh. Don't make me start posting "First come, first served", I don't like it!!!

Saturday, 3 May 2008

Anyone wanna come over and play? ;)

Ok, ok, I talk about Craigslist too much...

But I made $50 before I even woke up this morning. How's YOUR day?


Craigslisting, by the numbers

7 - Days since I started Craigslisting.
73 - Number of items I currently have "for sale".
225 - amount of money, in dollars, that I've currently MADE via Craigslist.
425 - amount of money, in dollars, that I've SPENT via Craigslist.
3 - number of previous posts in which I've mentioned Craigslist.
11 - current number of "rules" - according to me - for posting on Craigslist.
1795 - amount of money, in dollars, that I stand to make if everything I have for sale is sold for my asking price.
<1 - percentage of chance the above mentioned will actually happen.
1 - number of husbands I have who do not understand my obsession. Actually, it's also the number of husbands I have total.
65 - the number of seconds' worth of patience that I have when it comes to selling on Craigslist.
3 - the number of deals that have fallen through for me so far.
4 - number of items I currently have that are "pending".
2 - number of items I've sold via craigslist before I even got a chance to post them.
2 - number of people, judging by IP address tracking, who have found my blog via my Craigslistings.
1 - One Monkey Puzzle Tree, found for me by a very helpful fellow Craigslister. Thank you! :)

Well of COURSE I track IP addresses!

I had a visitor to my humble blog from France! FRANCE!!! Hi France! Bonjour. ;) How the heck did YOU find me?

Oh, I'm excited...

Friday, 2 May 2008

Rachel Says:

Rachel: Mommy, what's this?

Mommy: It's a chicken Order Form.

R: Shiiickin?

M: Chicken.

R: You can order chickens?

M: No, chicken. You know, like food?

R: Chicken food? For chickens?

M: No Rachel, for us.

R: We'd eat chicken food?

M: Rachel, focus. It's not food FOR chickens, it's chickens AS food. As in chicken for dinner. Chicken fingers. Chicken burgers. Chicken wings.

R: Oh. So you just draw what you want? Then they have to give it to you?

M. Sure. Close enough.

Daddy (from other room): Oh yeah honey, she's YOUR daughter.

I might have to hurt them both.

Rachel Says:

Daddy: Don't lose that, it's a library book.

Rachel: No it's not, I got it from the library!

Mommy: *Smacks forehead*

Things I've Learned About Motherhood:

(Because Tara told me to.)

1.) Achieving motherhood HURTS. Luckily, there are drugs for that.

2.) Motherhood is hard on the body, hard on the pocketbook, and hard on the heart. This is why children are cute. So you forgive them.

3.) Motherhood is the lowest paying job on earth, but has the best benefits. :)

4.) I had no idea what a competition motherhood is. You'd think your main goal as a parent would be to keep your little Mini-Me safe and healthy until they left the nest. Not true. The true goal of parenthood is to make sure your kid has the best stroller/wardrobe/toys/nanny in town. Bonus points if they also have a so-called "designer" name. For example, "Mike" spelled "B-a-9-*" with a silent q and a handful of appostrophies.

5.) Motherhood, loosely translated, means:
Noise. Lots and lots of NOISE.
Dirt. Lots and lots of DIRT.
Never getting to start a conversation.
Never getting to finish a book.
Never getting to enjoy a bath free of rubber ducks and no-slip frogs.
Perpetual stickiness.
Learning all the names/occupations of every princess Disney ever scribbled. Ever.
Speaking in extreme-basic language. Car go. See flower. No no, mommy's pills.
Feeling quite accomplished if you manage to brush both your hair AND your teeth in one day.
Knowing all the employees at McDonalds by first name, and knowing the health status of their extended family.
Memorizing the mL/Lbs dosage chart for infants Tylenol.
Spending more time on your therapist's couch than your own...

6.) Once you've pushed a bowling ball through a garden hose, hearing your husband complain about his poor widdle severed thumb will make you want to slap him. Repeatedly.

7.) With motherhood eventually comes subsription to the belief that a perfectly acceptable lunch is the crusts off your childrens' sandwiches and a few mouthfulls of baby peaches from the bottom of the jar.

8.) Taking small children with you anywhere really ought to make you eligible for a handicapped parking decal.

9.) Fathers are simply the bigger children who never really grow up and move away.

10.) It actually is possible to function on 2 hours of sleep a night. Just don't attempt to operate heavy machinery or talk to anyone who may try to con you into hosting this year's Bake Sale.

A POX on Pedigree's Ad people!!!

Those commercials are driving me CRAZY. Who on EARTH would want to listen to 30 full seconds of a DOG CHEWING??? What kind of DUMBASS thought up THAT??? I am hereby boycotting all things pedigree until they come out with a new series of commercials. Seriously people, your ads are disgusting. They absolutely make my skin crawl. Would you want to listen to a person chew noisily for an entire commercial just to advertise a restaurant? NO! Grow a brain!

Oh, and since I'm on the subject, listen up CMT! Airing those ads a hundered times a night is affecting your ratings. Seriously. I can't even flick through your station for fear you'll be airing YET ANOTHER slobbery disgusting chewing ad. BARF. If Tom Cavanaugh wasn't so dang cute on "Ed", I'd boycott your station altogether just for good measure.