Still laughing in that evil kinda way.

I've made MDU - and this time, it's in a good way. If you don't know what MDU is, I'm not telling you. For those in the know, y'all understand my giggle fit.

Long live snark.

DING DING DING! Total time: less than two months

Less than two months. That's how long it took the powers that be to begin to re-assign me to writing training and procedural manuals once again. Why doesn't anybody listen to me? This is my NICHE. You can't stop fate.

In other news, I've been applying for government jobs. I dropped the "my husband is in the MILITARY and I just want to reunite our family" bomb in my resume/application documents. Lol. Doesn't get much more "government" than THAT! I'm applying for essentially the same job I've got now, but for double the gross income and (hopefully) a significantly better employer.

The thing that keeps me whistling while I work is the vision of one day telling my current floundering company run by asshats that I. AM. OUTTA HERE!!!

Keep your fingers and toes crossed. If I get an income-tastic job like these, I promise to buy you all pretty things. Or at least buy myself pretty things in your honour. ;)

Dear Tim Horton:

Dear Mr. (late) Horton, or Business Consultant entrusted to act on behalf of Mr. (late) Horton:

Let me first say how very impressed I am by your continued dedication to the Canadian Underpriviledged. Your contributions to creating and maintaining summer camps for the less-fortunate children of the Great White North in an inspiration to corporations everywhere - truly, it is.

May I further commend you on your unequalled quality in the hot beverage/breakfast industry. Your sandwhiches are delicious, your bakery items second to none. Your signature coffee is well known for it's flavour and depth.

However, I do have one small request to make. Although I respect your apparent goals of creating an ethnically-diverse team at many of your locations, might I suggest you stress the importance of ensuring understanding of the following important industry-related terms:

Coffee.
Tea.
Milk.
Cream.
Sugar.
Bagel.
"Toasted".
Butter.
One.
Two.
Three.
Yes.
No.
Water.
In.
Out.
With.
Without.

Additionally, please accept the calculators I have donated to all Tim Horton's establishments within my general vicinity, because the next time your uncomprehending, uneducated, ill-trained, and all-around IDIOTIC excuse for an employee tries to charge me, via interac, $500.00 for a cardboard cup of hot-water-with-milk when I have CLEARLY ordered "Tea. Black" *SIX* times, I'm switching to Starbucks.

Sincerely,
The Mommy.

Lily is BEAUTIFUL *photographic proof!*

(In response to my previous thread)

The camera hates her

Why is it that when I take a picture of Finnigan, it turns out like this:

and when I take a picture of Rachel, it turns out like this:

but when I take a picture of Lillian, it turns out like THIS????:

She's such a pretty girl! I swear!!!

Rachel Says:

Rachel: Mommy, look at the gorilla in my book.

Mommy: That's a sasquatch, baby.

R: What's a Sacks Crotch?

M: Uhhh. It's like a gorilla, baby.

~~~~~

Rachel, from down the hall: MOMMMMMEEEEEEEE!!!

Mommy: Rachel, I'm not talking to from so far away.

R (incoherent): Mmmmm.. mmm. mmmmmmm mmmm m m mmmm m mmm?

M: Rachel, are you even listening?

R (forlorn): No...

She's not colourblind, but I wish I was

Today, Lillian chose to wear this "ensemble" out in PUBLIC:

My pink fedora from high school.
My leopard-print chiffon scarf.
A floral-print long-sleeved, billowing cotton shirt, over top of which she wore:
A white cotton undershirt with a rip in it.
On her bottom half, she wore:
Turquoise leggings,
Pink and white plaid boxer shorts,
Knee-high socks with the word "Baby" written on the side in glitter,
Brown leather booties with felt flower applique,
- And -
A purple rhinestone belt that had to be looped around her twice to stay up.

She was feeling FABULOUS.

It hurts me, it physically hurts me.

Rachel's theories on motor vehicles

Rachel: Mommy, I know how to drive, really I do. You des put the key in the hole and move the stick and turn the, you know, that thingie around. I prolly des can't get a license because I'm not tall enough. But Lily is! I could dust teach her for you, you know. Den you could des go to work, and we could drive to daycare.

This coming from a child who can't keep her doll stroller on the 3' wide sidewalk in front of our house. Nay, the child who can't keep her doll stroller UPRIGHT on the sidewalk in front of our house.

No, you gotta give me what I ASK for...

Finn and I have been working on "Ta ta!" No, not bewbies, ta ta as in give-me-what-you've-got-before-you-ruin/choke on/lose/hurt yourself with-it. It's going well. Well, it works if you're less than a foot from him, and beam him with the "Mommy Eye". Otherwise, he will give you something, but it won't be what you ask for - it will be whatever he dang well FEELS like giving you! Thus, I have compiled a list of of things I've asked him to give me, compared to what I've actually been given:

Asked for: the bobby pin he was eating. Got: his sister's beanie baby unicorn.
Asked for: the box of q-tips he was spreading all over the living room. Got: a toy car.
Asked for: the loose change he'd dug out of my purse. Got: the hair elastic I didn't even know he had.
Asked for: the dust bunny he dug out from under the couch. Got: his sock.
Asked for: my hairbrush. Got: a flip flop.
Asked for: the cable bill. Got: the cable bill (dang).
Asked for: the empty Pepsi can. Got: a handful of slobber.
Asked for: the diaper he'd pulled out of the diaper bag. Got: another flip flop.
Asked for: my keys. Got: HIS keys.
Asked for: my camera. Got: his hat.
Asked for: his empty bottle. Got: hit with it.
Asked for: my drivers licence. Got: toe fuzz.
Asked for: the soggy cookie he was done with. Got: a petrified piece of corn from somewhere in his highchair.

I wonder if reverse-psycology works on one-year-olds?

Now accepting donations for:

DRYER: Because cloth diapers + laundromat + 3 kids = %$^&*#@!!!

DISHWASHER: Less dishes = More time for me to spend here entertaining you all! Not because I'm lazy, I swear.

TOILET: Because I miss the days of being able to potty at home. :( I don't know what Barbie/shampoo bottle/pair of princess panties/bowling ball went down the hole THIS time, but it's ensuring that nothing else will. (Hey Ma, is my toilet snake at your house?)

I assure you there's more, but I've gotta save SOMETHING for Santa. I've been such a good girl this year!!!

No time to blog :(

Sick baby, messy kitchen.

I've discovered that if I sleep at work, then I have time at home to do what needs to be done. Cooking, cleaning, blogging. Remembering who my children are.

I've already given up showering so I'll have more time for BBC, what more do you WANT from me???

ISO: Illustrator!

For the same reasons listed in the previous post.

Must be able to draw child-friendly animal characters and settings in minimalist fashion.

Reply to: Me.

Experience not necessary, I'm a newbie myself!

ISO: Publisher!

I did it! I FINALLY wrote the childrens book that has been knocking around my brain! Plus, I was on such a roll that I wrote ANOTHER one! I am on FIY-YAH!

Now I need a publisher. And someone to tell me how to submit a manuscript.

Hey, I'm new to this. ;)

Special shout out to my BBC June 2007 mamas who let me use their babies' names for my characters! I lubs you all!

By Finnigan:

. 98m999999 hjefjfeuovr4 d d .Q, X

It's like it was written JUST FOR ME!!!

(Special thanks to someecards.com - check them out!)

My lurvely Yankee readers:

Happy 4th, y'all! I thought of you all day today while I slaved away at my desk. Now if only you could be come "independent" of George Dubya.

Fun at work

My Boss's Boss: Mrs. (Kira's Supervisor) who is our contact for job XYZ in Calgary?

My Boss: Uhhhh...

Me: His name is Claude XXX, I've placed his contact information on your desk and taken the liberty of entering it into your computer address book. I've also sent a copy to our shipping department, our service department, and central filing. I've kept a copy for our files, and updated our submittal coverpages.

My Boss's Boss: Holy shit.

My Boss: *Open mouthed stupor*

Me: You're welcome!

Lesson number one: I'm too good to be a bloody File Clerk.

Lesson number two: Being BEYOND good at your job can be fun when it leaves people stupified.

Lesson number three: I have too much time on my hands at work.

Dear perfectly nice woman at work:

If I hear you refer to our company as "Architekshewal", hear you talk any more about your "tubular [ligation]", or if you answer my question "when are you having the food ordered for" by saying "oh, lunch, probably" (with ZERO sarcasm - you were dead serious) one more time, I'm going to slap you. Or myself. Or both of us.

Hard.

Other than that, I like you. :)

I like cars :)

After what seems like a lifetime of buying pink everything, eating sandwiches at work out of princess-printed sandwich bags, choking to death on pink tulle, and knowing the names, occupations, love lives, and favorite accessories of twenty-seven HUNDERED different Barbies, I got to buy my first set of cars. The set of cars came with... 5 cars. No little handbags that don't open, no miniscule shoes that you need a magnifying glass and tweezers to put on, no optional accessory kits, no malibu mansions, no pets, no flowers, no ponies, and no lipgloss that will - more than likely - just end up mashed into the carpet anyway. One box, 5 pieces, $5.

I love boys.