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Saturday, 16 February 2013

Email to my Mother....boner, wiener, balls, crapping....all the things one should send to ones Mother.

I don't know if any of you have noticed....but I'm pretty close to my family.  I actually enjoy my parents and we hang out....a lot.  Call me crazy.  Now I also don't know how you all communicate with your parents......specifically your mother.  I was going through some emails I sent her and all of a sudden it hit me....these might not be appropriate ways to email ones mother.  What do you all think?

Ahem...

Hi Mom!

I got your last email but found myself sick with what Lenny had. Finally. I guess I had avoided it long enough. I started feeling strange on Wednesday....and by Wednesday evening was really icky and thankfully my last clients were just Dennis and Lisa....but i tried to suck it up and get finished and was almost done when Auntie Lisa said "You gonna make it Shan?" and no, no I wasn't. So I spend the next hour or so lying on the bathroom floor at work, in between almost crapping my pants, until I could actually get up and drive myself home. I was up most of the night sick and then on Thursday felt like a truck ran me over. I wasn't upright for more then 5 minutes and managed to only go from bed to the couch and back to bed a couple times. I slept all Thursday night no problems and was good as new on Friday. Well, minus the 11 hours worth of clients from Thursday that I now have to rearrange. So needless to say, between Tuesday and Wednesday this week I have 13 ladies hair cuts (at 1 hour each) and 3 full colors (at 3 hours each)....the math on that isn't looking so awesome. So if I don't make it to work on Tuesday, just keep driving to Trail and come visit me at the crazy house there. I checked on Friday and I can't bring any wine, so maybe sneak some in for me? That'd be great.

The kids are all doing well.....have actually been getting along the last couple days. All of them. The common ground at the moment is..............Pokemon. All of them. Lenny included. Why, dear god why?? What have I done to deserve that mind fuck of a tv show? I mean, I put up with a lot of horrible shows...can we not just go back to Steve and his awkwardly pleated pants, ever eluding to a secret boner as he chases after his make believe dog and talks to household items???? I guess I shouldn't complain though. Kohen got to play hockey in the intermission of the Selkirk Saints game and that was pretty exciting. Barry took Dad and Darren brought Ethan and they all went last night and had a good time. Yes, we've all been checking up on Dad while you've been gone and even have fed him a few times and forced him to feed us. Robin Tomlin took him out one night and he saw Good Kevin a few times I hear. Tiffany has been getting him to watch Ethan while she does her report cards so it's been a bit of a funny role change for him I think. Even Brett has been over a few times (don't cry, it's not cause you weren't there) so Dad has been busy cleaning house and entertaining. There was one studio night at the beginning with Kevan but I heard it was pretty lame for them being such old guys from the neighbour (no names) who found reasons to go out and shovel every little bit and listen in while texting me updates. We got this. Dad did say Airmiles called and left you a message regarding a flight change to Vancouver I believe so you have to call them back.

Oh funny story.....went to bathe Lenny last night.....well I HAD to bathe Lenny because Dad found his makeups on top of the cupboard while looking for a lost ball....Barry must have hid it. We gave it to him and he went and played quietly while I made supper and Dad and I had a glass of wine. Lenny comes in the kitchen a few short minutes later and his hair is one giant glued mess of sparkles and glitter. He had a tube of glitter body gel I guess in there that he squeezed out in entirety in his hair. Looked like he was transforming into some kind of merman. So as I'm undressing him for his bath, I notice the tip of his wiener is green. Slightly concerning. I ask him "what's on your wiener?" and he holds it up and I can see the word "POSTED" revealed on his balls. Yeah, he took Barry's POSTED stamp that he uses for the business stuff and stamped all his junk. It was pretty funny.

Also, you might not understand Kohen when you get back. He's got his R's down now.....and I think it's worse. He kind of rolls them maybe? Or just really announces them? Starting to sound a little less Liverpool and a little more Shakespere.....or less Liverrrrrrrrrrrrpool and more Shakespeerrrrrrrre. You'll see.

Big hugs from all of us and we'll talk to you soon!!!!!!

Shannon

I mean....I thought it was fine....until Mom said she made my aunt and uncle read it and my uncle was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and my aunt wasn't impressed by my use of "boner".  And YES OKAY THE THREE YEAR OLD STAMPED HIS JUNK AGAIN.  Sigh.....I was going to blog about it, but how many junk blogs can I have about him?  And honestly.....it was POSTED all UP on that junk and all over his butt cheeks...how did he even reach that??  One day I'll wake up, he'll be 30 and on Kink on TV as a guy who likes people to step on his nuts or something.....so to sum up....maybe I don't talk to my mom like a "normal" person, but who's really surprised by this?  Really?  And yeah, the moral of the story is actually how my dad left alone is like leaving your impressionable 16 year old the house for the weekend....the booze cupboard is locked up but you know he's sort of crafty and has those "bad" friends who can push him around.  Maybe when he's 70 we'll fully trust his level of responsibility....who am I kidding?? Ha!

Tuesday, 12 February 2013

Weak stomachs be warned....

Goooooood Morning!!!  So my three year old is just at that exact perfect age where you want to keep them this way and never let them age a bit!!  He says the funniest things....does even funnier ones and is old enough to basically entertain himself when needed and engage with the older boys.  It's perfect......except for a couple little things that he can't quite do on his own yet....we'll get into that in a minute.....let's talk about my day a few weekends back....sssiiiiiiggggggghhhhhh........

Sooooooo remember how I'm not really a morning person?  Yeeeaaahhhh well, for those of you who have forgotten, to me, the entire world starts at 6:30am.  Any earlier then that and it doesn't exist.  You get up at 5:30am for work?  Sounds made up.  I refuse to believe there is any ungodly hours out there....trust me, 6:30 is bad enough.  So now let's bring hockey into this little equation.  My middle son plays hockey.  Anyone who has had kids play hockey KNOWS the hours that that involves.  So for those of you not paying attention me, hockey and an ungodly hour are having a little threesome here.  What could possibly go wrong??  Now Barry and Kohen ARE morning people.  Me, Lenny and Gavin....no.  So we have a hockey game in Grand Forks that we need to be at for around 8:45am....meaning we have to leave our house by 7am....meaning I have to get up at 6:47am so I can be ready in time....just kidding....sort of.  So Barry is up and showered and ready...Kohen is up and ready to go all happy and excited for a day of hockey....in grand forks....allllllllllll day....with hours between games and honestly, there is NOTHING to do there!  Nothing.  An entire Saturday spent dragging the kids around Grand Forks between hour sessions in the freezing cold rink...I know what you're all thinking, wheeee where can I sign up??  Barry is waking me up and my alarm is waking me up and i'm slapping snooze on both....no not Barry....he's smart enough not to get that close to me when trying to wake me up.  And he has Lennys bedroom door wide open while everyone stomps around trying to get ready for the morning and he's not budging either.  Finally I get up and I have a huge headache and I'm really really grumpy and already on the verge of tears.  I come downstairs and Kohen starts crying "I dont' want you to come!!  I just wanted it me and dad!!  I don't want you and Lenny to come with us!!" and he's like really crying.....and I'm crying "you know what?!?  I don't want to go either!!!!" but of course Barry doesn't want to be trapped there all day by himself so he's not getting involved in this discussion.  We haul Lenny out of his crib and off we go.  The boys want breakfast....Barry asks me where we're going....our options are fast food restaurants, or fast food restaurants or fast food restaurants...I say it's all the same shit.  So they pull into Tim Hortons.  Now my mistake was not specifying....buuuuut I HATE Tim Hortons.  And everyone in that car with me knows it....like, hate. 

Now I feel like a total bitch.....because I know I have clients who bring me Tim Hortons coffee....and at that point in my day, I'm totally okay with it!  And I will drink it and not even cry.  This story and my upcoming freak out is not reflective on the coffee you bring me, solely the fact that my husband and family knows this isn't my favorite and at 7am a girl just wants a fucking cup of coffee.  So please, this is not an attack on any of the Tim Hortons coffees I have happily consumed from my amazing fantastic clients.  Okay...on ward...

So now I basically act like a spoiled rotten child and refuse to order anything.  There is not one item on that menu I want to eat/drink at 7am on that morning.  Barry is quickly sensing that something is building here and he's ignoring it.  I have tears welling up in my eyes and finally grudgingly order a yogurt which I chuck under the seat in the bag and don't eat.  The boys in the back order wild berry smoothies and bagels and Barry of course gets a large steaming hot cup of coffee.....which I won't drink.  And alllllllllll I wanted in the entire world was a coffee for the drive......just one......so I'm devastated.  I'm a huge whore for a cup of coffee in the mornings.  And off we go.....I try my hardest but the tears start coming and I can't stop them....I sob all the way to Grand Forks....or almost to Grand Forks.  We are just about pulling into town when we hear a strange noise.....Lenny kind of coughs....and then hiccups and I turn around and through my tear blurred vision see him start to THROW UP ALL OVER EVERYTHING.  Now here's the thing that at three, he doesn't get yet.  Throwing up.  There was no warning....he doesn't know to pull over or get a bag or anything...so he's strapped into his carseat, with a blanket on his lap and he's projectile vomiting wild berry smoothie all over the car.  We all start freaking out "HOLY FUUUUUUUUCK PULL OVER PULL OVER PULL OVER!!" and Lenny is just staring at me not really sure whats happening with fountain of puke shooting everywhere.  It just keeps coming and coming and coming.  Barry pulls onto this little road that heads to the mill and we search the car for napkins or anything and find ONE MEASLY scrap of a napkin in all our Tim Hortons bags....thanks alot Timmies ya douchebags.  I chuck the blanket out of the car and Barry and I are basically just running around the car freaking out....and Lenny is sitting there crying, covered in disgustingness and Kohen is plugging his nose trying not to gag.  We load everyone up again and drive to a gas station where I bathe Lenny in a freezing cold bathroom in the sink and Barry tries to scoop the puke out of the car and needless to say, I'm crying again.  We decide to head home and drop us off.  I get bags from the gas station and sit in the back with Lenny, who is green, waiting for more.  It's a long drive home.  Kohen is crying about how Lenny ruined his hockey game....and halfway home, he pulls my new ipod shuffle out of his smoothie....but has NO idea how it got in there so that was awesome too.  So there you go..........the thing that three year olds can't do by themselves.  And our exciting trip to Grand Forks.....and why we all just should have stayed in bed.