Maybe it was done like hopscotch

The girls and The Daddy were discussing how his work PT (Physical Training) is like their school PE (Physical Education):

The Daddy: ...so for instance, today we played volleyball.
Lily: Today WE played bench-ball*
Rachel: Today we had a spelling test!

*I have no idea what bench-ball is. She says that you throw around a ball to each other, and then you get to sit on a bench. I think it's like dodge ball for sissies.

A day at the beach :)

The elusive Finnigan Crab:

Making friends with local wildlife:

(I think these are harbour seals - Amanda, help me out!)

Kids say the most condescending things

Finn and I were out for a walk today in our neighbourhood when a mini van slowly rolled to a stop beside us. It was the mother of one of their friends.

"Do you know what your daughters have been telling me?" she asked.

"Uh oh." I said.

She laughed. Apparently when the girls play with her daughter, they tell her to go put a dress on "to be an old-fashioned mommy". My girls are ALWAYS in dresses, but I just chalked it up to them being girly-girls. Their friend is quite the tomboy and apparently her asking her mom for a dress rendered said mother completely speechless.

But wait, that's not even the best part.

My daughters, little snobs that they are, gave this poor woman QUITE the stern talking-to for using disposable diapers. How common. They informed her that cloth diapers - like the kind THEIR brother wears - are the only way to diaper your baby if you want to be an old-fashioned mother.

Where do they get this crap? Old-fashioned? Do they see me as a 50's housewife? Do they aspire to be 50's housewives?

They're so young, and so snobby. We'll be having a chat when they get home.

Newsflash ladies: You were BOTH diapered with disposable diapers. Indeed.

Random photo-taking

Cinnimony Fresh

Last night, after the children were nestled all snug in their beds, I finally got around to mopping the floors and getting the stains out of the sofa. I was so looking forward to coming downstairs this morning to clistening floors beneath my feet, and curling up with my coffee on a sofa that was beige once again.

It is apparent that my children had other ideas.

I do appreciate that they can get out of bed and put their own toast in the toaster, but really - do they have to decide on cinnamon toast without telling me? Do they have to hold their toast out in front of them while they sprinkle cinnamon for said cinnamon toast? Do they absolutely have to somehow get cinnamon not only over every. single. square inch. of the kitchen, but leave a trail of it through the living room and up the stairs? I didn't even know we had that much cinnamon. Furthermore, HOW do you manage to smear butter between the inside of the trashcan and the bag??

On the upside, my house smells like I've been baking all day - and I won't gain a pound!

Hey Nana, make up the guest bed.

Today Lillian told me she is moving to Singapore to live with Nana and Grandad. She even packed her bags. She brought her dress shoes, clean underwear, and an extra pillow. She put some cereal in a ziploc bag to eat on the plane, and counted out her leftover Yen. She figures the 80 or so Yen (less than $1) she has from our stopover in Japan earlier this year should get her a plane ticket from there to Singapore. She was quite upset with me when I wouldn't let her raid my change jar to pay for her ticket from here to there. I told her to get a job. She asked how much money she'd need, and I told her about $4000. She refuses to believe that they won't let her fly by herself so young. She's got it all figured out though. She's going to save her allowance to pay for the cab to the ferry, take the ferry across, and pay for the cab to the airport. She hasn't quite figured out how to pay for the first flight, but she's hoping Nana will call her so she can ask her for a ticket. So Nana, call Lily. She's got something to ask you. And can I please listen in? Well, I really only want to hear Lily's side, it's sure to be one of those moments to remember. Maybe I'll record it for posterity. She decided that she'll write me once a week, but that any pictures of herself she sends are strictly to go to Finnigan. If she wants one to go to me, she'll specify that in her letter. Adios family, ciao school, sayonara friends. Lily's moving overseas.

I wish her well.

She's too precocious for her own damn good.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

So I took the kids to McDisgustington's tonight for dinner, as promised. We even went inside so they could play in the even-more-disgusting playplace. They went in and played while I got the "food", and then we sat down in the playroom to eat. While we were eating, this guy at another table looks over and says,



"Your girls are so quiet, how on earth do you do it?"



HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I laughed so hard, I'm pretty sure he feared for his children's safety. He sure looked at me like I was deranged. Oh, if only he could spend a day in my life. Turns out he's a single dad with three little girls, and those girls are apparently my girls' soulmates. I told him "Pal, my kids are FAR from quiet. It's only because I ran them like DOGS all day today and threatened to break their little faces if they misbehaved that they're even acting like humans in here. Trust me, your girls are perfectly normal!"



Then I brought them home and bathed them in bleach and hand sanitizer, because those McAwful's playplaces really make my skin crawl.

Migraine Hangover

Well, those were 30 of the worst hours of my life.

I got another migraine. I hate migraines. I loathe migraines. This one included double vision and throwing up into my coffee cup. *gag*

I started feeling headache-y yesterday, but figured it was just that I hadn't gotten enough sleep lately and spent too much time staring at my computer screen. I resolved to go to bed early, but that fell through when I remembered that Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice are on on Thursday nights. Sigh. Priorities, right? I swear I went to bed right after, though.

I don't think I slept at all. The headache became a migraine at some point, and by then you're hooped. I'm totally useless once it hits that point, and even though the medicine is in the hall closet, right across from my bedroom - and right next to the bathroom for water to wash it all down, I couldn't make it. It took supreme effort just to attempt to sleep it off. It didn't work. When my alarm went off this morning, just turning over in bed to hit "off" almost made me toss my cookies. I got dizzy and nauseous. Yay. That was when I decided that March Break was starting a day early. Yes, that's how bad it was. Alas, it's not a good idea to get behind the wheel of a car stuffed with children when you are seeing two of everything, and everything is a little fuzzy around the edges. I finally made it out of bed enough to get my meds. I took my meds. I promptly threw up my meds. I took a deep breath and took more meds. These ones stayed down. I told the kids I had a migraine, and went back to bed. Once the meds kick in, I'm lucky if I can lift my own arm, let alone stay upright.

There is one thing I am VERY grateful for, though. I spend a lot of time on here exasperated with my girls. They are the #1 cause of most of my migraines, I think. BUT, when I get one, they really step up to the plate. They were so wonderful today, I was so proud. They really take care of me when I get a migraine. Lily got up, got herself dressed, and then went and got Finn out of his crib. She changed his bum and got him dressed and even made him a poached egg for breakfast! Then she took him into his bedroom, shut the door, and played cars with him for THREE HOURS while I rested. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. That is the sweetest thing, and I just love her to bits for it. The only thing I had to do was put him down for his nap (she can get him out of his crib, but she can't get him back in). She even brought me more meds and a glass of water when it was time. God bless that girl! Rachel, for her part, just stayed the heck outta the way. She got herself dressed and made her own breakfast, then went back to her room, shut the door, and has been watching TV quietly ever since. Not fighting with her sister is just the greatest gift I could ask for.

Once the second round (third, if you count the "returned' ones) of meds kicked in and my world focused enough for me to function, I walked down the street and bought them each a treat as a thank-you. I hugged them and kissed them and told them how much everything they did meant to me and how wonderful they were for it. Then I promised them McDonalds for dinner for being so good, even though the thought of McRaunchy's makes me nauseous all over again... But they sure as hell earned it today!

Now I just have what I oh-so-lovingly refer to as a "Migraine Hangover". Anyone who has had a migraine knows what I'm talking about. They just take all the stuffing right out of you. I'm tired, I'm weak, I'm just beat.

On the upside, there were supposed to be guys here pouring cement into my crawlspace today but they never showed. Praise God. I really don't think I could have handled a cement truck outside my house all day today. I'll have to make them cookies for not showing up when they said they would. That should confuse the shit out of them.

I could just... Cry. Alot.

So, the wonderful marvelous spectacular private school that we drive 40 minutes each way to have the girls attend? They have a two-week March break.

TWO. WEEK. MARCH. BREAK.

This cannot be happening. I NEED them to go to school. It's not just education, it's my sanity!

Ok brain, THINK. They can get jobs. Go to summer camp. Volunteer? Can I loan them out to show childless couples what having kids is REALLY like? Can I chain them up in the attic? Convince them that the crawlspace is a really cool hideout? Forced slavery?

Next year: Boarding School.

Backup! I need backup!

I didn't lose them, I temporarily misplaced them.

The girls, that is. I let them play outside, and they asked if they could go to the park. Fine, ok, that's right beside our house. Yeah, how stupid of me to not specify which park. Rookie mistake! So, dinner's on the stove, the baby is baby-gated in his room, and I'm outside in my sweat pants calling their names like I'm looking for my damn dog. Mother of the year, I am. Well, just as I'm about to load the baby in the car and tour the neighbourhood, who should come marching home? Two VERY GROUNDED little girls. Apparently they mistook the word "park" for "random stranger's house near a completely different park". They're lucky we live in a safe neighbourhood. Apparently they just saw a house with bikes and toys outside, went up and knocked on the door, and asked the woman who answered if she had any kids they could play with!!! :O And then they did!

They are so beyond grounded. We've had the "stranger danger" talks, they've heard the stories on the news about what happens to kids who wander off with strangers, they KNOW better.

I should have asked the woman who brought them home if she'd like to keep them. That or they need shock collars and one of those invisible fence things you use for dogs. Pigeons learn faster than those two.

At least they were getting along for once. It's kind of refreshing to punish them for something other than pounding the everloving shit out of each other/screaming insults at the top of their lungs.

Rachel and I had a good long snuggle the other night, with a big talk about acceptable behaviours, and how you should always be nice to your sister and respect your mama, blah blah blah. I thought I got through to her. Apparently, notsomuch. Sigh. I had the same conversation while Lily helped me make dinner. Intellectually, she completely understands. They both know how they want to be treated, and they both know that mommy doesn't - and never has - catered to the "she started it" argument, and yet something happens whenever they are together at home. At school they are so close, they play together at recess, they share their lunches, they help carry each others' stuff... But at home they are just VICIOUS to each other! I brought it up at the recent parent/teacher conference, and the teachers couldn't believe what I was saying because of how they act at school. They are the best of friends there, and the worst of enemies here. Except that occasionally here they are the best of friends too, until they're not.

Now I don't have a sister, so I've got no frame of reference. The Daddy doesn't have any sisters either (nor is he one) so we're both in the dark on this one. Is this even close to normal behaviour? What am I doing wrong? They have activities that they participate in together, and apart, they're in different grades but the same school, they have overlapping but individual circles of friends, I don't favour one over the other...

If this is 6 & 7, I don't even want to think about the teenage years. I'm going to need stronger medication. The Mommy only has so much will to live, KWIM?

Where's Dr. Phil when you need him?

Here a princess, there a princess...

The girls ditched the boys and went to see Cinderella at the real live theater in Singapore:

They thoroughly enjoyed the show!

I told you so.

Remember two posts ago how I said that every time I frickin' turned around, there was some new destruction the girls had wrought? Yeah. I went to give the baby his bath tonight (more on that later) and found toe prints on the lino floor in BRIGHT. RED. NAILPOLISH.

And then they lied to me about it! How dumb do you have to be?? Seriously! I know it wasn't me, it obviously wasn't Finn, and you have evidence all over your hands. Methinks you're not as sharp as you look.

They both went to bed without dinner, which is something I've never done before. I am at my wits end though, with those two. They're now grounded indefinitly, with no toys, no TV, no colouring stuff, no playing together... Until they grow brains.

I know that nailpolish marks are not a huge deal, in and of themselves, but add that to the sneaking candy, writing on walls, lying, fighting, mess-making, and the fact that they somehow plugged up the bathroom sink, and well - it's enough.

Tomorrow, I put them to work. I am going to break these two - before I go out of my already medicated MIND.

Lily says:

This all happened while I was driving, so my objective was to shush her as quickly as possible. As you can tell, I failed.

Lily: Mommy, my tummy hurts when I do *this* (bends sideways)

Mommy: You probably just have an air bubble or something baby.

L: What's that?

M: Well, it's a bubble... Made of air.

L: What's inside it?

M ...*facepalm*...

L: ???

M: ...Air?

Wake. SHOVE. Sleep. Repeat.

Lily has been all kinds of freak-o lately, so I have been attempting to give her more Lily-Mommy time. My latest uber-genius plan was to let her spend the night in my bed.

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.

Lily is a mvestor*

*Title and spelling/punctuation are as they appear in the book she wrote today. Definitions are provided following each paragraph)

Lily is a mvestor
(Lily is a movie star)

By Lillian

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 End.

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!

Poetry for short attention spans

Lillian: Mommy, I wrote you a poem!

Me: Thanks Lily! Let's hear it.

L: "Mommy. You."

Me: *Waiting expectantly*

L: That's it mommy.

M: Oh. It's lovely!

She's learning so much in Sunday School

Lillian: Mommy, who's birthday is it on Christmas again?

Me: Ummm... Jesus?

Lillian: Yeah.

Me: Ok then.

Best money I ever spent

Today I paid Rachel a twoonie to clean a full double sink's worth of dishes, and I paid Lillian a twoonie to fold what amounted to three loads of Finnigan's laundry. Finnigan is wiping down the placemats for free, on the condition that he gets to eat whatever particles he picks off of them.

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.

Happy Halloween!!!

Two princesses and an octopus. :)

Oh yeah, and Jason Vorhees:

Some scary decor:

After school snacks

Lillian: I'm all done my crackers, can I have some more?
Mommy: No baby, have a banana.
L: Can I have a piece of chocolate?
M: After your banana.
L: Oh. Ok.
L: Can I have a banana?