OMG hi guys! You know what? I've missed you. Every single one of you. I know I know I know, it's been fooooorever since I blogged. Not for lack of material, as you all know I basically live at the circus. And not like the happy daytime fun carnival, but the creepy night time circus full of freaks and blood and penises and mess and crying and.......I regress. So I wanted to share with you all a lovely experience I had while camping this summer. So lovely. Let me set the scene....
It's hot. It is fucking HOT. You remember that week we had where it felt like the world was melting? A big old puddle of goo. That week. So we're camping out at syringa that week and on this particular Saturday night, I'm out there staying alone with the two little boys (who so aren't little but that's another story). Like, usually it's hot as balls in town, but then you drive out to the lake and get out of your car and it's like aaaahhhhhhhh, cooler and a breeze coming off the lake and feels like drinking and awesome. But this Saturday, it was hot as balls in town, and like hot as bear balls at the lake. Not even a bit cooler. We have a tent trailer and had all the window screens unzipped and open, which normally would provide some breeze through that hot box of sweaty boys, but this night, it totally didn't. Me and Lenny went to bed in the one far side of the tent trailer and Kohen got the side closest to the door, and we all climbed in on top of the covers and tried to get some sleep. Now here goes.....ready? Okay. So. Around 2am, I'm half woken up. Like I'm still in that half asleep but semi aware of my surroundings state that is so weird. I can feel this delightful breeze....finally. It's coming across my bare legs and up around over my face over and over and over. I'm semi aware that it feels more like a fanning then a breeze but I'm okay with it. My half asleep mind momentarily decides it's some kind of bird or large insect outside the tent trailer and must be flying by the open screen windows. I almost go back to sleep when I hear it..........the unmistakable fluttering sound of bat wings. Oh. Huh. There's a bat outside and it's flying around the tent trailer and the breeze off it's wings is blowing inside the screen windows. Well that's neat. All of a sudden FWAP FLOP SMACK something crashes into my bare leg and stops moving. I am now fully awake and laying there trying to process this when I feel the thing semi crawl/drag itself all the way down my shin and onto the top of my foot and now onto the screen window at my feet. I glance over and HOLY FUCKING CHRIST ON A CRACKER IT'S A FUCKING BAT INSIDE MY GOD DAMN TENT TRAILER AND IT JUST LANDED AND CRAWLED DOWN MY LEG THIS IS HOW RABIES START DONT SCREAM THE BOYS ARE SLEEPING IT'S GOING TO FLY INTO MY HAIR IF I PANIC DON'T PANIC DID I JUST PEE MYSELF ITS A FUCKING BAT.....well, you get the picture. I lay there trying not to move or hyperventilate as the thing takes off again and resumes flying around the tent trailer....it goes around and around and around and then....stops. Silence. Nothing. I peek out from my bed and see nothing. Fuck. Now what? The boys are still both snoring away, totally unaware. I try to form a plan but it's hot and I'm creeped out and it's a fucking bat guys! In my tent trailer! I decide I could make a run for it, for the door but I'd have to stand up completely and go all the way to the other side and if that thing starts flying around again, I think I'd freak out so I try talk myself out of it....out of the entire thing. No bat. Probably was a bird. It's sleeping now...shhh shhhhh.....there there go back to sleep now. OMG there's a curtain! A curtain to separate my bed from the rest of the trailer. It's ripped off the top a bit but I close it anyways....it manages to cover like 3/4 of the way across the bed, sealing me and Lenny off. There. Fixed. I try to go back to sleep and decide to take another look. I shine my flashlight around the gap in the curtain and the fucker starts flying again......flap....flap.....flap....flap......flap. Round it goes. All of a sudden FWAP and it lands right on the curtain. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. I can see its silhouette and it's crawling towards the gap. Holy shit if it gets in here, it'll JUST be flying around the bed Lenny and I are sleeping in. I panic and smash my flashlight onto the inside of the curtain and send the bat flying off. I hear it hit something....and silence. Okay what now? I decide I can climb out the side of the tent trailer! Yes! Brilliant!
Now for those who don't know, the tent trailer has the beds that slide out and then canvas that goes around the outside and bungee cords attach to the underside to keep it in place. So I try to reach my hand between the bed and the canvas to undo the cords so I can slide out. Holy shit she's tight. I get panicky when I realize this might not work and start smashing my arm through the side and ripping at the bungee. I manage to get one or two unhooked and decide it's just enough space for me to squeeze my ass through so I stick my legs out and am just about to slide out. Wait a second.....how high up am I again?? What's under me?? I force myself to grab the flashlight and look. It's a bit of a drop so facing forward might not be the best. There's also two bags of garbage hanging beneath me and a bag of recycling. I kick those away as much as possible and decide it's probably best to drop out feet first, but facing down. Here I go!!!! I push myself off and throw my arms above my head and that fucking trailer births me out onto the dirt and bag of recycling. I hit the ground in a heap and jump up because now I'm convinced a bear or a cougar is probably outside in the dark woods waiting to eat me. That's when I realize, it's drafty out. My fucking shirt is missing. Ever go to pull off your sweatshirt and wind up taking your shirt off underneath as well? Same thing only my shirt is now left in my bed where there's a fucking bat flying around. So there I am, bare tits and a pair of short shorts scanning the woods all Charlies Angel style for bears and cougars while my children sleep and a fucking bat is flying around my tent trailer. Fuck it. I sit in a lawn chair and debate sleeping right there. I mean, the bat isn't bugging the kids right? Just like, deal with that shit in the morning. Ugh....no. So I open the trailer door and creep inside and the stupid thing is in hiding again. I'm scanning around everywhere, trying to find it with no luck. If I was a bat, where would I hide? I decide that thing is probably in the dust ruffle curtain topper or whatever the hell all trailers have around the top of it so I start walking around the outside of the tent trailer banging on the canvas sides thinking it'll start flying again. And yes, my kids still slept. I'm getting annoyed now, like what if I was a bear?? They'd be eaten before they even realized it. Two rounds around the trailer, and nothing. Images of a bear ripping me to shreds and someone finding my body in the morning, topless, outside of the trailer has me deciding to try find my shirt. Thankfully I manage to reach in far enough to snag it and shows over. I take another look in the door and scan all around and all of a sudden I see something weird and fuzzy on one of kohens shoes, just inside the door. It's the bat. That fucker. I grab a broom and drop to the ground and army crawl towards the door swinging the broom handle in front of me. The bat starts flying again thankfully and after what feels like a hundred times round the trailer, it finds the open door and flies out, narrowly missing my face. It's now 4am and I'm pretty much ready to start drinking. I notice there's a light on in the trailer in the site across from me and decide had someone been watching me, they probably got a pretty decent show. You know me, give it your all!!!!!
I managed to get back to sleep after much tossing and turning that night. The next day the boys didn't even believe me that there was a bat in there. Jerks. I made Barry bring me some duct tape and I spent the morning taping up the entire roof and where the canvas comes to the roof. I think it's a classy addition to the dust ruffle curtains! And that's what it's like to camp in my life! Oh and my arm was black and blue and fully bruised up from fisting that stupid tent trailer canvas so that looked fancy.
Anyone need any topless bat removal, just let me know!!
Showing posts with label Crazy Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crazy Family. Show all posts
Monday, 20 July 2015
Wednesday, 18 December 2013
An old blog started but not finished from a million years ago....full of urine.
This morning was one of those mornings. You know the ones where you threaten to move away and leave everyone behind? Go join the circus, or become a carnie or something.....lose a couple teeth, start doing some drugs....you know, carnie folk style? Not saying all carnies are toothless drugies, but the ones who usually hit on me at the fair are soooo.....anyways I had one of those mornings and it was not pretty. It all started out with the realization that instead of cleaning up after supper last night, I sat at the table with Nicole and got drunk instead. Whoops. So then there was supper mess all over the kitchen AND I'm nursing a slight hang over. No biggie, I'll just unload these clean dishes from the dishwasher and reload it, wash a couple things and BAM, good to go!! Upon opening the dishwasher I realize it's decided to up and die on me. Like, it's busted. Great....so now I have all the dishes from supper as well as an entire dishwasher full of dirty dishes to wash. My poor dish pan hands! As I'm slowly working through that, the youngest comes into the kitchen with such stories as "I'm hungry...feed me....I want chocolate milk....Kohen peed in the garbage can in the toy room....put a show on for me!" and in all honesty, I was 99% certain Kohen had NOT peed in the garbage can because even though he's a brat, he wouldn't have a death wish that early in the morning. So I chocolate milk him and put a show on and keep washing my dishes. A little while later I hear the boys arguing about something in the toy room and overhear Kohen say "there's pee on the floor!!" and so I head on in there and Kohen says "Lenny peed in the garbage can!!" and Lenny is yelling "YOU DIDN'T SEE ME!" which is his new way of denying something that he did indeed do. So I ask him if he peed in the garbage can and he attempts to say no but is really bad at lying (thankfully!) and yes, yes he did. I have a look in there, there's a bag at least and garbage and now everything is covered in urine. Lovely. It's also all over the floor and garbage can itself because he's not very good with his aim. So now I have an entire kitchen full of dirty dishes, a smelly broken dishwasher full of dirty dishes and a garbage can in my computer room that smells worse then a back alley dumpster on East Hastings on a hot summer day. Oh and don't forget about the hangover!!! Joy!!! But I guess all this is only fair....karma has a way of finding us, even years after the fact. A story from my childhood was quickly brought to my attention by my sister upon telling her of this event....
My mom dreamt of an ensuite. The space was there, it just needed to be built. I swear that bathroom was in a constant state of being built my entire childhood. She wanted it clean and white and tranquil and hers. My Deada came by one day with a gift for her....a new tub and surround for her ensuite. He got a great deal on it, basically for free! With three young kids at home and one income in the family, how could you go wrong with free? He confessed it had a bit of a flaw, a small crack running through the surround that could easily be fixed. That was it's only issue. Upon unveiling it, my moms dreams of a tranquil gorgeous bathroom were quickly murdered....the giant tub/surround was yellow. Like a greeny yellow....pee yellow if you will...chartreuse? Gaudy, bright, horrendous pee yellow. So once that tub got installed, much of the rest sat unfinished while she tried to plan how to work that yellow tub into her design plan. An impossible task. Me and my sister were having a bath in there one evening...just for the novelty of it. The rest of the bathroom was unfinished...roughed in but nothing else was there. We were probably 6 and 8? 7 and 9? My sister had to pee but there was no toilet and I wasn't letting her pee in the tub. There was a cap covering the plumbing drain for where the toilet would eventually go. Looked like a little cup. Just pee in there, I suggest. She's having none of it. I of course nag and nag her to do it....promising it would be fine...I wouldn't tell...nobody would know. My sister wasn't very adventurous but could quite often be talked into something by myself.....who could sell an idea to anyone. Eventually she caved.....had barely squatted and started to pee in the drain cap when.......MMMMOOOOOOOOMMMM TIFFFFFFY IS PEEEEEEEEEING ON THE FLOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Annnnnnnnnd then Tiffy had to use a bucket and a cloth to soak it up and clean it up and I sat in the tub pretending I wasn't quite sure what had happened there. So my dear friend karma, touché.
My mom dreamt of an ensuite. The space was there, it just needed to be built. I swear that bathroom was in a constant state of being built my entire childhood. She wanted it clean and white and tranquil and hers. My Deada came by one day with a gift for her....a new tub and surround for her ensuite. He got a great deal on it, basically for free! With three young kids at home and one income in the family, how could you go wrong with free? He confessed it had a bit of a flaw, a small crack running through the surround that could easily be fixed. That was it's only issue. Upon unveiling it, my moms dreams of a tranquil gorgeous bathroom were quickly murdered....the giant tub/surround was yellow. Like a greeny yellow....pee yellow if you will...chartreuse? Gaudy, bright, horrendous pee yellow. So once that tub got installed, much of the rest sat unfinished while she tried to plan how to work that yellow tub into her design plan. An impossible task. Me and my sister were having a bath in there one evening...just for the novelty of it. The rest of the bathroom was unfinished...roughed in but nothing else was there. We were probably 6 and 8? 7 and 9? My sister had to pee but there was no toilet and I wasn't letting her pee in the tub. There was a cap covering the plumbing drain for where the toilet would eventually go. Looked like a little cup. Just pee in there, I suggest. She's having none of it. I of course nag and nag her to do it....promising it would be fine...I wouldn't tell...nobody would know. My sister wasn't very adventurous but could quite often be talked into something by myself.....who could sell an idea to anyone. Eventually she caved.....had barely squatted and started to pee in the drain cap when.......MMMMOOOOOOOOMMMM TIFFFFFFY IS PEEEEEEEEEING ON THE FLOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Annnnnnnnnd then Tiffy had to use a bucket and a cloth to soak it up and clean it up and I sat in the tub pretending I wasn't quite sure what had happened there. So my dear friend karma, touché.
Thursday, 11 July 2013
Nothing says summer like soccer and god.
So it's summer vacation. Anyone with kids knows how this works.....that first week off "ahhh....no getting up to make lunches....no set bedtimes....no routine of early mornings....this is great" and that slowly gets shifted through the second week and then into the third week you're all "these DAMN kids have eaten every item in the house......GO TO BED.....why are you up at 6am?? You didn't go to bed till midnight! Why are you in my space all the time?? THIS SUCKS".....sooooo we're kinda there. So this week we find out there is a soccer camp. That would at least take ONE of our three kids out of the house for a few hours every morning. And he would be happy as heck to go......of course the sporty one being Kohen. The only thing is, it's a "high powered" soccer camp.....meaning it's run by a church. Now anybody who knows me knows my beliefs and they are made up of this.....
A) What beliefs?
.....and that is all. Now I respect anyones choices to believe in what they shall....except maybe for that Church of Euthanasia....no I'm not even making that up....google it. I'm actually even jealous of people who can hold on to such strong beliefs and have such a passionate faith. But it's not for myself. I try really hard to keep my opinions open and vague about the subject, especially when it comes to raising my kids because I would like them to develop their own ideas about how this world is made up. Now Kohen is a little more....ummmm.....mouldable? He yearns for attention and acceptance....he would totally be that guy drinking kool aid waiting for the spaceship so I feel a little more protective over him and what he's exposed too. Needless to say, I was a little skeptical of this soccer camp, but seeings how we personally know (and like!) the youth pastor at the church, I figured it couldn't be too bad. I even voiced my concerns to Barry and he put my mind at ease....well....
Me - Are they gonna be all......*jazz hands*
Barry - All what?
Me - You know....*jazz hands*
Barry - uuuhhhhh....no?
Sooooo away Kohen went to High Power Soccer Camp. Now I figured things were going good...lots of talk about a slip and slide and new friends.....until this happened yesterday morning...
Kohen - Hey mom? You know that guy God that they strung up....what happened to him??
Me - uhhhhh.........hey! SpongeBob is on!!!!
Okay yes, I deflected. And you know what? If not being able to deflect strange/stupid/hard questions from my kids isn't my right as a parent, then I don't know what is!!!!! Yes, Kohen is learning some religious aspects at soccer camp this week....and yes, he's having a great time and making some friends. And that's okay....I mean, there isn't enough room in Hell for allllll of us.
A) What beliefs?
.....and that is all. Now I respect anyones choices to believe in what they shall....except maybe for that Church of Euthanasia....no I'm not even making that up....google it. I'm actually even jealous of people who can hold on to such strong beliefs and have such a passionate faith. But it's not for myself. I try really hard to keep my opinions open and vague about the subject, especially when it comes to raising my kids because I would like them to develop their own ideas about how this world is made up. Now Kohen is a little more....ummmm.....mouldable? He yearns for attention and acceptance....he would totally be that guy drinking kool aid waiting for the spaceship so I feel a little more protective over him and what he's exposed too. Needless to say, I was a little skeptical of this soccer camp, but seeings how we personally know (and like!) the youth pastor at the church, I figured it couldn't be too bad. I even voiced my concerns to Barry and he put my mind at ease....well....
Me - Are they gonna be all......*jazz hands*
Barry - All what?
Me - You know....*jazz hands*
Barry - uuuhhhhh....no?
Sooooo away Kohen went to High Power Soccer Camp. Now I figured things were going good...lots of talk about a slip and slide and new friends.....until this happened yesterday morning...
Kohen - Hey mom? You know that guy God that they strung up....what happened to him??
Me - uhhhhh.........hey! SpongeBob is on!!!!
Okay yes, I deflected. And you know what? If not being able to deflect strange/stupid/hard questions from my kids isn't my right as a parent, then I don't know what is!!!!! Yes, Kohen is learning some religious aspects at soccer camp this week....and yes, he's having a great time and making some friends. And that's okay....I mean, there isn't enough room in Hell for allllll of us.
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!
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.
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.
Wednesday, 14 November 2012
Why did I have so many boys?
Oh hi there! Yeah yeah yeah....it's been a while since I've written anything. And it's been killing me, honest!! But there is just NOT enough hours in the day for me to do everything I want, and some nights, the couch and a glass of wine kidnap me and render me helpless to do anything but try not to spill when I nod off. So I thought I'd do a little kid update, because usually this is the first question people ask me......following close second is "are you getting younger? you sure look like it!" and rounding up third is probably "what's your secret to being so amazing?" but first is usually about the kids. My colourful classy kids! So here goes...........
Kohen - Okay so no, I'm not going in order. Well maybe I am....but it's not the order one would assume. I'm starting with the kid who probably has the most to update on. Why? Because he's a train wreck, that's why. So here goes. Kohen, Kohen, Kohen. Had our first teacher requested meeting a couple week ago. Now most parents would be upset and shaking their heads about such a meeting but Barry and I were high fiving in the parking lot of the school that we made it 6 whole weeks into this year before such a request was made! That's good time in Kohen's world! He's also been to the principals office more times then we hear about I'm sure....and honestly, I never really know if it's because he is in trouble that much, or if he likes to hang out with Leanne the principal because she is gorgeous and sweet. That boy does have a thing for blondes. So apparently Kohen has been having a hard time with the new school....between that and the new sitter....and new teachers....and new friends....he's a bit of a disaster. He's picked up some new language and is using it at every chance he gets (don't even say it! You may think it but if one of you suggests the language comes from me then I will find you and fuck you up...I mean.....explain to you that it probably does not)...he's also made a couple new friends and one of them has language that makes even me blush so let's all blame the 7 year old. He was grounded from his bike this summer too from a time when he rode it with Nicole and I while we ran......apparently the game is "see how close I can get to the white line on the road and stick my foot over the white line on the road whenever a car passes". Neat hey? So after Nicole yelled at him 294 times to get away from the white line and I yelled at him 28472 times, he continued choosing to not listen and rode right up and over the line and almost got creamed by a truck. Bye bye bike!! But it hasn't all been bad......the majority of weeks at school he does get at least equal "happy face to sad face" ratio from his teacher. He also is doing really amazing in hockey this year and having a blast! And he's befriended half the kids at the trailer park and is turning into some kind of creepy leader and I'm pretty sure they're building a space ship in my basement, he's also started making a lot of kool aid................no? Too far?
Gavin - Ah our new teenager. What is it with 13 year old boys and BAM smelling like ass all the time? Where's my sweet smelling baby?? I guess if he changed his clothes every now and again.....also, what's with that??? At least change the socks kid! Gavin has now started at the high school...which I was terrified about....but he seems to really honestly enjoy it. I think he really likes the bit of freedom and independence. He was all excited he could walk to subway on his lunch....or him andThe Geek Squad his friends walk to someones house at lunch hour....probably to geek out to some video games or something. He still has his girlfriend....but we don't hear much about that....and I'm kind of okay with that! He's getting really great grades in school....probably helps that every teacher he has is either a client of mine, or I know personally....so he was read the riot act upon starting school to be awesome or else I'd find out! But I have a feeling this is the wrong kid to worry about. He's such a funny guy....this year for Halloween he wanted to be a "bed sheet ghost"....so he leaves it till the very last minute (surprise surprise)...and then relies on his dad to go and buy him a white sheet from the thrift store....no wait, first he wanted to start cutting up my sheets and then when I said no, wondered aloud if Nana would let him cut up hers. So in the end Kev goes to the thrift store and buys this like......cream colored table cloth material scrap of fabric....you know the type of table cloth material that like has that sheen to it? Like silky almost? And the fabric is so small that this thing barely covers him. He was stoked on it, even though he looked like such a tool. And for the first year, he chose to go out with his friends and not us. We dropped him off downtown and picked him up a few hours later. I worried that maybe they'd be screwing around and not trick or treating...which is probably what I would have done if it was me at his age...but no, he came home with the biggest bag of candy ever! So it's safe to say they were actually going door to door.
Lenny - This kid has become a real jokester. He's picking up words galore and using them every chance he gets....such beautiful catch phrases like "look here stupid!" and "Aaaaahhhh she's/he's/it's/we're/you/re DEAD!" and "Kohen! You're a poo poo head!" so that's all been real fun and cute. Honestly though, he's a really funny kid. He's still pretty easy going and has started preschool this year. Side note....one kid starting high school while one is starting preschool....boy we really didn't think that one through. Where was I? Oh right....preschool. He LOVES school! And most days I can find him standing by the front door in his pj's with his pink princess backpack on yelling "I'M GOING TO SCHOOL STUPID!" even if it's not a school day. Such a little rascal! He's in the same class as his older cousin Ethan and that's been a really cool thing to see the difference in them. Ethan isn't a very big guy, but he's smart like Stewie and loves his music. Now Lenny is a big ol'truck....smart like ummm...white bread? If I could imagine what kind of smarts white bread would have....it would be like....simple smarts? Yeah, white bread...what you see is what you get. Not a ton of nutrition but it won't kill you to live off of? Hmm....this analogy is a tough one this morning. Moving on...............let's just say the kid can't count to 5 yet. Well, I mean he can....hold up 5 fingers and he'll tell you "Oooonnnnneee.....twooooo......threeeeee......six, seven, nine!" and there you have it! But I mean, at 3.5 years of age, who needs to know how to count to 5 right? Another good example of the differences between him and his cousin......one day at school they had to glue pieces of colored macaroni pasta onto a piece of paper. Now Ethan must have glued 294784628 onto his....the paper was bowing in the middle, strained under the weight of glue/pasta...you could hardly even see the paper underneath for all the intricately placed macaroni so that he could fit the maximum amount on there with them all just fitting into the curves of the other juuuuuust so, it must have taken him allllllll class to do......now Lenny came running out with his macaroni art paper.....there were literally 4 pieces of macaroni glued onto the giant sheet of paper. Four. I think that pretty much sums it all up.
So there you have a quick update of 3 of the 4 of my boys. As for the other one and myself....yep, we're doing alright. Busy and hectic and Barry is just waiting for me to go to Vancouver so he can put up the Christmas lights in peace without me yelling at him about being careful on the ladder. It's for your own safety Barry! YOUR SAFETY!!
Kohen - Okay so no, I'm not going in order. Well maybe I am....but it's not the order one would assume. I'm starting with the kid who probably has the most to update on. Why? Because he's a train wreck, that's why. So here goes. Kohen, Kohen, Kohen. Had our first teacher requested meeting a couple week ago. Now most parents would be upset and shaking their heads about such a meeting but Barry and I were high fiving in the parking lot of the school that we made it 6 whole weeks into this year before such a request was made! That's good time in Kohen's world! He's also been to the principals office more times then we hear about I'm sure....and honestly, I never really know if it's because he is in trouble that much, or if he likes to hang out with Leanne the principal because she is gorgeous and sweet. That boy does have a thing for blondes. So apparently Kohen has been having a hard time with the new school....between that and the new sitter....and new teachers....and new friends....he's a bit of a disaster. He's picked up some new language and is using it at every chance he gets (don't even say it! You may think it but if one of you suggests the language comes from me then I will find you and fuck you up...I mean.....explain to you that it probably does not)...he's also made a couple new friends and one of them has language that makes even me blush so let's all blame the 7 year old. He was grounded from his bike this summer too from a time when he rode it with Nicole and I while we ran......apparently the game is "see how close I can get to the white line on the road and stick my foot over the white line on the road whenever a car passes". Neat hey? So after Nicole yelled at him 294 times to get away from the white line and I yelled at him 28472 times, he continued choosing to not listen and rode right up and over the line and almost got creamed by a truck. Bye bye bike!! But it hasn't all been bad......the majority of weeks at school he does get at least equal "happy face to sad face" ratio from his teacher. He also is doing really amazing in hockey this year and having a blast! And he's befriended half the kids at the trailer park and is turning into some kind of creepy leader and I'm pretty sure they're building a space ship in my basement, he's also started making a lot of kool aid................no? Too far?
Gavin - Ah our new teenager. What is it with 13 year old boys and BAM smelling like ass all the time? Where's my sweet smelling baby?? I guess if he changed his clothes every now and again.....also, what's with that??? At least change the socks kid! Gavin has now started at the high school...which I was terrified about....but he seems to really honestly enjoy it. I think he really likes the bit of freedom and independence. He was all excited he could walk to subway on his lunch....or him and
Lenny - This kid has become a real jokester. He's picking up words galore and using them every chance he gets....such beautiful catch phrases like "look here stupid!" and "Aaaaahhhh she's/he's/it's/we're/you/re DEAD!" and "Kohen! You're a poo poo head!" so that's all been real fun and cute. Honestly though, he's a really funny kid. He's still pretty easy going and has started preschool this year. Side note....one kid starting high school while one is starting preschool....boy we really didn't think that one through. Where was I? Oh right....preschool. He LOVES school! And most days I can find him standing by the front door in his pj's with his pink princess backpack on yelling "I'M GOING TO SCHOOL STUPID!" even if it's not a school day. Such a little rascal! He's in the same class as his older cousin Ethan and that's been a really cool thing to see the difference in them. Ethan isn't a very big guy, but he's smart like Stewie and loves his music. Now Lenny is a big ol'truck....smart like ummm...white bread? If I could imagine what kind of smarts white bread would have....it would be like....simple smarts? Yeah, white bread...what you see is what you get. Not a ton of nutrition but it won't kill you to live off of? Hmm....this analogy is a tough one this morning. Moving on...............let's just say the kid can't count to 5 yet. Well, I mean he can....hold up 5 fingers and he'll tell you "Oooonnnnneee.....twooooo......threeeeee......six, seven, nine!" and there you have it! But I mean, at 3.5 years of age, who needs to know how to count to 5 right? Another good example of the differences between him and his cousin......one day at school they had to glue pieces of colored macaroni pasta onto a piece of paper. Now Ethan must have glued 294784628 onto his....the paper was bowing in the middle, strained under the weight of glue/pasta...you could hardly even see the paper underneath for all the intricately placed macaroni so that he could fit the maximum amount on there with them all just fitting into the curves of the other juuuuuust so, it must have taken him allllllll class to do......now Lenny came running out with his macaroni art paper.....there were literally 4 pieces of macaroni glued onto the giant sheet of paper. Four. I think that pretty much sums it all up.
So there you have a quick update of 3 of the 4 of my boys. As for the other one and myself....yep, we're doing alright. Busy and hectic and Barry is just waiting for me to go to Vancouver so he can put up the Christmas lights in peace without me yelling at him about being careful on the ladder. It's for your own safety Barry! YOUR SAFETY!!
Friday, 5 October 2012
The Apple doesn't fall far from the tree...especially when the tree is only 5'2"
So yesterday morning....this happened...
I'm running around the house frantically trying to find something to wear to work.....okay, now you're all shutting down. Your eyes are moving over the words but you've stop reading them. All of you are thinking "Shannon, yes, many a story from you have started this way. We get it, you're a train wreck who hasn't learnt how to dress yourself. BORED." but I promise you, this story gets better! Well, sort of. Great, now I've fluffed it right the fuck up and you're going to be let down. Okay, it's okay...just take my hand, we can do this together. Here goes....so yesterday, picture this (not to detailed okay?)....I'm running around my house, pants on (high waisted from american apparel...even as a half dressed train wreck, I'm on trend) and a blue leopard print bra and that's it. I can't find a shirt to wear to save my life. So perhaps there's one on thepool laundry table? I run downstairs and I'm all over the place. Lenny (new 3 year old...well, not new like we just found him at a bus stop somewhere but like newly turned 3 year old....why are you all so confused this morning??) is following me around whining about how he wants to go to schoooooooool! He's got his back pack on and is dressed and shoes and coat and yes OKAY I see that my three year old is more organised then I am. But in all fairness, does he need to put on makeup? No? Well drop it. Lenny is on and on and on about let's go mom...blah blah school...we're late crazy lady....okay the last part I just made up but I'm sure he totally thought it. I say "not yet Lenny! Mommy is getting dressed!" and he of course argues "You ARE dressed!" which I guess to a three year old, who thinks running around butt naked most of the time, I did look pretty overdressed. I continue "mommy needs to finish getting dressed...I need clothes on!" and Lenny marches on over to me, grabs my pant leg, looks me right in the face and says "Look here stupid!!" ............................ now here's the thing, every SINGLE person who I told that story to yesterday all said the same thing, "well, we sure know they're your kids Shannon"....every single one of them. So my three year old calling me stupid is something that somehow shows a genetic trait? Is swearing and going on like a trucker (sailor, roofer, hairdresser, city worker....whomever, I'm not prejudice) a genetic trait? Can you be born with a swear gene? My poor mother right at this moment is phoning me to give me the great lecture on how she NEVER swore when we were kids....which is true. Actually, my dad didn't either. I can still remember the moment as a kid when by accident I saw (not even heard) my dad swear and it was terrifying. I was pretty young and could read (genius, I know...) and I came across a sign the band guys had made....and it was in my dads neat printing and said "If you're not in the band, don't fuck with the equipment" or something like that....and I was shocked and dismayed!! This from my father! As I got older and started hanging out with my dad a bit having some beers, I quickly learnt what kind of language he had. And it was language saved for places like the bar, a group of guys, the studio, the golf course and I felt pretty cool that I was accepted enough to be a part of the secret swear club. So okay, stupid isn't really a swear...but for a three year old, it's a pretty out there word! And yes, he probably learnt it from me, I'll say that first and foremost....and yes, the seven year old has some choice language as well which OKAY MAYBE sort of came from me too......and I was thinking about my new years resolution for this year coming up (stop snickering) and I was thinking I should make it something that really will make a difference in our house and make the language skills improve and show my kids how to be calm and how to express themselves without having to turn to bad language....I think I'm going to try Valium. Ha....just kidding....bet you thought I was going to say I'm going to stop swearing? Fuck no.
I'm running around the house frantically trying to find something to wear to work.....okay, now you're all shutting down. Your eyes are moving over the words but you've stop reading them. All of you are thinking "Shannon, yes, many a story from you have started this way. We get it, you're a train wreck who hasn't learnt how to dress yourself. BORED." but I promise you, this story gets better! Well, sort of. Great, now I've fluffed it right the fuck up and you're going to be let down. Okay, it's okay...just take my hand, we can do this together. Here goes....so yesterday, picture this (not to detailed okay?)....I'm running around my house, pants on (high waisted from american apparel...even as a half dressed train wreck, I'm on trend) and a blue leopard print bra and that's it. I can't find a shirt to wear to save my life. So perhaps there's one on the
Thursday, 6 September 2012
Real Men Wear Pink
Oh back to school.....so much to do! We went through all the motions last week buying school supplies and a couple new outfits for the boys.....new gym shoes and backpacks.....which actually brings me to something here real quick like, backpacks. Now, I always let the kids pick out their own. And yeah, lots of times they aren't the most practical of back packs....why do they ones with the best Disney pictures have the LEAST amount of padding and pockets? Just one big open compartment for everything to get mangled together...books squishing their lunches and that one corner ALWAYS ripping open eventually spilling pens and garbage on their walks home. This year was no exception. Kohen wanted this "Hockey Canada" backpack....and it had a horribly small one large compartment. Gavin wasn't with us so I picked him out a very practical one, with tons of padding and lots of room for all the binders he's going to have to pack to high school. All my practicality went to waste when he showed up after a trip to the states with my sister with a name brand backpack, smaller then Kohens. And our dear boy Lenny, who's starting preschool this year gets a backpack too. I bring down a couple Cars ones....do you want the red car or the tow truck? He stands there debating in the way that only 2 year olds can....while holding his junk and ignoring you. He scans the wall of backpacks in walmart and screams "THIS ONE!!!!!" while excitedly running over and grabbing the one he wants for school! Instantly I have to put it on his back and he proudly goes running over to show Barry.
Yes, this is the backpack that he picked out. Why? Cause it's pink....his absolute favorite color. Barry and I stand there having a loud argument over letting him buy this one for school....mostly consisting of "you can't let him buy that!" "oh yes I can!" "no you can't!" over and over and over, both of us kind of laughing, but laughing in that way that's like "I dare you to make this a thing!". In the end I shove the back pack into the cart explaining that this is going to be the only time in his life where he doesn't have to be "gender specific" and I'm not going to stifle him! And for those of you early morning assholes who are now laughing cause I have three boys and this was my last chance at a girl....those assholes who remember that Lenny also has a large baby collection and a pink princess hair styling kit....I know who you are. And when I see you next, I'm going to punch all of you because that fact has nothing to do with stifling my last male child's wants and letting him blur the gender lines and if he wants a princess backpack then mama's gonna get him a princess backpack! Shut up. SO MOVING ON (I didn't want a girl you know.....I'm happy with my boys......just saying.....) we get up to the check outs and unload our hundreds of dollars worth of back to school shit. The lady is ringing it through and I'm making conversation with the people waiting behind us. It takes like half hour to check us out and as the last of the items are going, I scan and count one backpack....two backpacks...........and that's it. Where's Lennys? No pink back pack already went through? My eyes dart around the check out and there I spot a glimpse of a pink backpack sticking out from under a gum display at the beginning of the moving belt. BARRY!!!! I scold him and dig it out making a big display. The couple I'm chatting with get awkward as we argue over our son having a pink back pack and we all just smile nervously at one another. I'm glaring at Barry and he's laughing at me. We head out to the car and I look down on the ground and somehow that backpack has managed to flip OUT of the shopping cart and is laying in the parking lot......for fuck sakes BARRY MOORE! And finally all three backpacks are in the car and we can head home. My mom sees the back pack and freaks out too.....he can't carry that to school!!!! Which makes me even more determined that YES HE CAN! I ask my sister, who's a teacher, and she says it's fine....I even go so far as to ask his preschool teacher, who also says it's FINE and possibly we'll start a trend! Now just to pacify those who think it's a bad idea, yet keep the pink backpack for Lenny, I have altered it slightly and I think this works for everyone.....
Oh those princesses never looked better!!!
Yes, this is the backpack that he picked out. Why? Cause it's pink....his absolute favorite color. Barry and I stand there having a loud argument over letting him buy this one for school....mostly consisting of "you can't let him buy that!" "oh yes I can!" "no you can't!" over and over and over, both of us kind of laughing, but laughing in that way that's like "I dare you to make this a thing!". In the end I shove the back pack into the cart explaining that this is going to be the only time in his life where he doesn't have to be "gender specific" and I'm not going to stifle him! And for those of you early morning assholes who are now laughing cause I have three boys and this was my last chance at a girl....those assholes who remember that Lenny also has a large baby collection and a pink princess hair styling kit....I know who you are. And when I see you next, I'm going to punch all of you because that fact has nothing to do with stifling my last male child's wants and letting him blur the gender lines and if he wants a princess backpack then mama's gonna get him a princess backpack! Shut up. SO MOVING ON (I didn't want a girl you know.....I'm happy with my boys......just saying.....) we get up to the check outs and unload our hundreds of dollars worth of back to school shit. The lady is ringing it through and I'm making conversation with the people waiting behind us. It takes like half hour to check us out and as the last of the items are going, I scan and count one backpack....two backpacks...........and that's it. Where's Lennys? No pink back pack already went through? My eyes dart around the check out and there I spot a glimpse of a pink backpack sticking out from under a gum display at the beginning of the moving belt. BARRY!!!! I scold him and dig it out making a big display. The couple I'm chatting with get awkward as we argue over our son having a pink back pack and we all just smile nervously at one another. I'm glaring at Barry and he's laughing at me. We head out to the car and I look down on the ground and somehow that backpack has managed to flip OUT of the shopping cart and is laying in the parking lot......for fuck sakes BARRY MOORE! And finally all three backpacks are in the car and we can head home. My mom sees the back pack and freaks out too.....he can't carry that to school!!!! Which makes me even more determined that YES HE CAN! I ask my sister, who's a teacher, and she says it's fine....I even go so far as to ask his preschool teacher, who also says it's FINE and possibly we'll start a trend! Now just to pacify those who think it's a bad idea, yet keep the pink backpack for Lenny, I have altered it slightly and I think this works for everyone.....
Oh those princesses never looked better!!!
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
My Baby...yes I'll call you that till I die, get over it.
So today my baby is off to high school. Even typing those letters causes my stomach to knot up and a lump to work it's way into my throat. Yes, Gavin is now officially a teenager and going to high school. How the fuck did that happen? I mean, seriously??!! Excuse the language so early in the morning but I think when one of your spawns that you expelled through your loins....forever leaving things in such a way that they never return from.....decides to become a fucking teenager and go off to high school....well, such language is a fucking must. I want to say it just seems like yesterday and he was a baby....but it didn't really. Things have been pretty busy since then. But he's kind of been in a perpetual state of like, 8 or 9 to me. Gavin was always a super bright, funny kid. Right from the get go, we knew he had brains. His dad would come home from work and get out a notebook and mark down all the new things Gavin was doing....his little brag book...asking all the while "do you think other kids are doing this yet? Probably just Gavin!" to which I'd nod politely and agree....mostly because his dad was a bit of an egotistical moron at times (love you Kev) and it was just easier to agree, but I did know that Gavin was going to really be something special. And yes, of course all parents say that about their kids, is what you are thinking right now. But no! No, that's not true. Take Lenny for example....our third baby boy....I am the first person to admit that that kid isn't the brightest light in the room! Now now, don't get all up in a huff! I can hear my sister now "Shannnnnnnnon!", but it's true. I mean, this kid has more personality then any grown person I've met, never mind 2 almost 3 year old, but sheesh, he's lacking a bit in the smarts. Take for example, gravity. Yes, a little difficult to figure out? Gravity is forever Lenny's worst enemy. He regularly throws things up into the air, hard as can be.....metal things, trucks, books, toys......only to watch them fall right back down again and smash into his face. Note the word "regularly"....and he's just as shocked and surprised every time that this item has caused him pain. Yet, one day in the not so far away future, he will do it again...and again. And maybe by the time he's 5, he will learn NOT to do it....but we'll see! Just like flapping his little arms....Lenny, it doesn't matter how hard you flap those suckers, they will not carry you from your perch on the coffee table to the couch when you launch yourself towards it face first. Then there's our middle kid, brains galore! Yet, we only get glimpses of the genius inside....usually sandwiched between two demonic acts.....hey mom! Sacrificed the neighbours cat! Oh and I figured out how to read Latin.......DROVE THE CAR INTO THE POOL!!! So we don't always notice his smarts so much. But Gavin and I have always had a bit of a "different" relationship, and I think it's because it was just him and I for a bit after me and his dad split up. That mixed with the fact that even at 2 years of age, I could sit and hold a completely intellectual conversation with him. I had a friend comment one time that we're more like siblings sometimes, which I suppose is probably true. I trust him and know that he's developing into a decent, lovely, polite, smart human being. So high school shouldn't be so scary. For the others, I pushed three boys into this world, the least I can do is hope for two of them to become decent men.....right? I mean, I'm sure Kohen will get his fair share of fan mail from those creeper women who love writing letters to prison inmates! Haha kidding (?)!
Sunday, 19 August 2012
Seriously, 2 year olds....and i'm not just being dramatic.
Lenny is almost 3....and luckily, we never really experienced the "terrible twos" with him. But as we approach three, it's like a switch went off and WHAT THE FUCK he's into everything. The worst part about it is, he's one of those quiet trouble makers. He's a ninja of mass destruction. So the other morning, I'm in the shower upstairs and Barry is downstairs in the kitchen on his laptop doing some work. I get out of the shower, go and get dressed and head back into the bathroom to brush my teeth. On the way out I step in something wet and slippery...and white and kind of frothy. It's like a spray across the floor. Now everyone please get their head out of the gutter.....I know I tend to post inappropriate things, but seeing how this is about my two year old, let's not go there. Ha! You all went there didn't you?? It's okay...I did too. Moving on....instantly I'm like "LENNY??!!" and Barry yells that he's downstairs. Hmm...strange but okay! I finish up upstairs and head on down and realize that every wooden tread of every step on my staircase is also covered in a white spray....as well as my duvet and duvet cover that are hanging on the railing. What the heck?? So I keep going......and Jesus Jones it's EVERYWHERE. The hard wood floors leading into the living room.....the couch.....the coffee table....the side tables.....the kitchen floors.....the cupboards.....a stool in the kitchen....a bunch of shoes......the dining room floor.....a nice white splat on the back of every fabric chair in my dining room......the walls......I'm running room to room at that point, tears welling up realizing it's absolutely on every surface and every item in my entire house. Kohen runs up to his room and yells down "IT'S ON MY BED AND ALL MY POKEMON CARDS AND MY TOYS! AND A PICTURE I DREW THAT WAS MY FAVORITE PICTURE...LIKE....IN SCHOOOOOOOOOOL!" and Lenny meekly comes into the kitchen and says "it's okay! I put it back!" and I realize that he's tagged my entire house with SPF 60, waterproof sunscreen in a spray can. Now can I please emphasise the word waterproof. Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean waterproof sunscreen off of every item in your house?? I tried wiping up the kitchen floor which only made it smeared and shiny and slippery and overall worse...looking at the clock realizing I still had no makeup on and it's 9:20am and I have to leave in 10 minutes and I just start crying. Barry takes over cleaning up and shoo's me away to get ready. Now this all wouldn't have seemed so destructive if the night before Lenny hadn't dumped an entire jumbo size can of chocolate milk powder all over the kitchen floor. The day of the sunscreen, I get a text from Barry, who's at home with the darling children while I'm at work;
Barry - Lenny just dumped half a jug of milk all over the kitchen floor. I'm going to lose it.
We're still finding places that little ninja tagged a couple days later....dry crusty white puddles of sunscreen. The only method of removing them at this point......a spatula. But if I move the plants around juuuuuust so, I can cover them up alright! Out of sight....out of mind! Wait....where's Lenny??
Barry - Lenny just dumped half a jug of milk all over the kitchen floor. I'm going to lose it.
We're still finding places that little ninja tagged a couple days later....dry crusty white puddles of sunscreen. The only method of removing them at this point......a spatula. But if I move the plants around juuuuuust so, I can cover them up alright! Out of sight....out of mind! Wait....where's Lenny??
Sunday, 1 July 2012
Welcome to my freak show.
After all the sharing of my dad's mini freak outs....I decided I should probably post another of my own. I know you're all gasping and probably fainting to hear that I have freak outs....because gosh, I'm so mild mannered and calm and collected....but yes, get the smelling salts handy cause it's true. I would like to blame having three boys for the insanity that is my life, but sadly, lots of it is just me.
So let's remember, back to May and all the crazy busyness that was my life....work, Gill moving, the kids getting anxious for summer, grad etc etc etc. Me and Nicole had a road trip/work trip planned for the first weekend in June and we were LOOKING FORWARD TO IT like you have no idea. We were planning to shop and eat out and dance and see Gill and shop and drink wine and drink and eat and shop and that was pretty much the to do list....all ending with a class on a new fun trendy hair color technique. So May just seemed never ending and finally it was the weekend we were leaving. We were giddy.....stupid funny and laughing at everything all week one second and then randomly bursting into tears the next second. Stress will do that too you! Along with not eating well because of the hectic pace and drinking too much beer after work for the same reason. FINALLY it was Saturday, the day we were leaving. It was also sunfest weekend here in town so I had said I’d take my kids to the parade and then we'd leave after that. Well we wake up on Saturday and I have 29472947 things to do because I haven't had time before hand and I have laundry and packing and had put off washing my hair and shaving the pits and the parade started around 11 and I was running around like crazy. The kids were all excited for the parade and they were running around picking at each other and trashing the house. We were right in the middle of potty training and Lenny was peeing on things and really had to go #2 but was scared to so he'd been holding back for a few days and now he was crying his bum hurt and following me around with a diaper, asking to have it put on. It was chaos. So I finally get us ready enough that we can go to the parade and I'm yelling at the kids cause they're all over the place and I’ve got Lenny on the toilet and I’m begging....bribing...pleading with him to just please try.....and he's crying and screaming ow and holding on for dear life. My mom shows up to help out and I'm in tears at that point because how can I take Lenny out of the house like this without going to the washroom to stand on the side of the road somewhere? And the boys are crying cause they're watching the clock and are convinced the parade is over. I'm yelling "THAT'S IT! WE'RE NOT GOING!!" and the kids are screaming "NOOOOO" and crying and thankfully my mom suggests I take the older boys and she will stay with Lenny on the potty. FINE. I rush around some more trying to find coats (is that rain on the horizon?) and bags for candy and the boys are antsy and Lenny is crying and I just want to get in the car and drive to Kelowna and never come back. So we finally get out to the van and its soooooo late and I know the road is closed where the parade is so we're going to have to find parking (good luck) and navigate all the crazy traffic and stupid back roads and I'm dreading it. The boys are yelling at me to hurry up and so we all pile into the minivan and I throw it into reverse and gun it and CRUNCH SMASH DRAAAGGGGG. Okay, now here's the part...the language is about to get crazy....and yes, my kids witnessed it too and I did apologize, I think....or I bought them something, cause that's the same thing right?? So CRUNCH SMASH DRRAAAGGGGG and I'm like "what the fuck was that?!!??"....now anyone who's ever pulled up to my driveway knows at any given time there's like 3 bikes and 4 ride on cars and 294729 toys scattered all over....so I whip the van into park and start going off "WHY DON'T YOU KIDS EVER PICK UP YOUR TOYS!!! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO LEAVE THEM ALL OVER THE FUCKING DRIVEWAY?!?!" and I run around the back of the van and I’ve ran over and smashed 3 mini plastic deck chairs. So like any person in the middle of a freak out I continue yelling obscenities "JESUS CHRIST...STUPID TOYS....FUCKING CHAIRS" etc as I use my foot to move, aka kick frantically, the broken pieces of chair all over the place. Then the beauty part was I cut my toe on one of the sharp edges, which only causes me to swear and kick harder and more spazoid like. I get them all out of the way and get back in the van and look at my kids horrified faces....which only makes me madder cause I’m being a total jerk and I know it.....
Me - "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT LEAVING YOUR SHIT BEHIND THE VEHICLES?"
Koh - *quiet voice* Nana told us to get some chairs to bring to sit on and watch the parade and I couldn't open the back.
Me - .......................................................................
And I look up and the window to the bathroom is open and my mom is sitting in there with Lenny and obviously heard the whole thing too. Sigh. So off we go to the parade......I try and make sure each kid gets the largest bag of candy ever, even pushing other slower kids out of the way because that's how you show your kids that you realize you've been a total asshole, right??
Sunday, 17 June 2012
A Father's Day post for The Bass Player
It's only fitting that today I blog about my dad. Yes, it's Fathers Day, and also, he gave me my name....The Bass Player's Daughter. It's the name of my salon and anything else I do these days....my identity. I thought I'd share some of my "fondest" Bass Player memories.....but first, a quick description of my dad. Now, my dad is a bit of a mish mash of things. He's amazingly funny, personable and outgoing. People meet him and instantly want to be his friend and he makes friends with anyone and everyone, remembering their names, loaning them money or buying them a beer. He's a very talented musician and adores time spent in his studio working on a song. At the same time, my dad is also quick to temper and a bit of a hot head. He'll go out and charm the pants off anyone, but will come home exhausted from being so social all the time and stick us with a miserable grump. All though these days, we can usually get him out of that grump status because we're not scared of him anymore, now that we're adults. My dad is also comparable to a 15 year old child....a bit of a spoiled rotten brat who sometimes forgets he's not the centre of the universe. Now, anyone who knows me, or reads my blog knows that I'm only comfortable saying these things about him because I share most of these same traits....minus the musician part but these traits I can pick out in myself and therefore feel I'm allowed to pick them out in him too. Growing up with my dad was interesting. He played in a band and was gone many nights a week.....he also had a day job and then had to nap in there somewhere so we didn't spend a ton of time with him growing up. Lucky for us, and him, we have an amazing lady at the head of our household who was always patient and kind and gave up her entire life for us to make sure we got the best childhood possible. Sometimes we share stories now and wonder how in the world did we all make it through those years together....but here we all are, still in love with each other and friends and able to spend many evenings together and enjoy it. So a few of my favourite Dad stories....we enjoy telling these over dinner, knowing it pisses my dad off....he can be a bit embarrassed by his quick temper while we were growing up but it left us with some great conversation starters.
Okay so I was maybe 10? We were eating dinner. Ketchup came in glass bottles and was forever getting stuck and not pouring out. I was trying to shake the bottle upside down over my plate to get the ketchup out and was getting a bit wild with it. It kept hitting my plate "ding....ding....ding....DING...DING..DING DINGDINGDINGDING..." and finally my Dad (who worked basically two jobs and didn't sleep much remember?) SNAPPED, as he was famous for doing and go figure with 3 kids all within 5 years apart. He stood up and literally grabbed the bottle out of my hand and violently started shaking it as hard as he could up and down in a HUGE exaggerated motion...all the while yelling "THAT'S NOT HOW YOU GET THE KETCHUP OUT! THIS IS HOW YOU GET THE KETCHUP OUT!" and ketchup was flyyyyyyyying all over me, the table, the floor (carpet in the kitchen back in those days) until he finally smashed the bottle down on the table and stormed off. We all sat in silence for a few minutes...shocked at his outburst until someone must have caught a glimpse of me, covered in ketchup and started giggling. Well that was it, we all roared with laughter......and were careful never to bang the bottle on our plates again.
It's Christmas....the most wonderful time of the year. Us kids are fairly young and hopped right the fuck up with Christmas spirit and sugar and presents and Santa and are hyper beyond belief. We're vibrating trying to decorate the tree, which is always a headache of an occasion. First my dad has to get the thing in the stand....and that's usually accompanied by tons of swearing at the stand and it's crooked and my mom lovingly suggesting we turn the tree to a less bare spot and my dad whipping this thing around until finally we all just agree with him, sharing silent glances, knowing we'll spin it while he's at work. Then my dad gets the joyous job of putting up the xmas tree lights....which are all bundled in a messy ball from where he got pissed off and just randomly shoved them into garbage bags the year before...then plugging them in and trying to find the one burnt out bulb that's making the entire string dark and my mother lovingly suggesting he "scallop" the lights a little more and not skimp in the back where the neighbours can see through the window. By the time this is all done, my dad needs a good stiff drink and he's snapping at all us kids, who are completely underfoot and annoying. Then we have to be patient while my mom puts the garland on juuuuust so before we're let loose with Christmas ornaments and allowed to decorate the tree. This all takes a gooood long time and by the end of it we're all grumpy and fighting but OH doesn't the tree look gorgeous! We turn out the lights and sit around the glowing Christmas tree drinking egg nog and listening to Christmas music. This one year we had done the tree and I had gone to my room to do something else when I heard screaming and came running out. Somehow our tree had fallen over....after all that work decorating it! Our beautiful tree was laying in our living room, the stand spilling water all over our carpet and my siblings all crying. My dad by that point, had had it. He ran in the living room and flung open the door to the outside front yard.....he marched over to the tree, picked it up and hauled it like a twig to the door and THREW it on the front snow covered yard....which wouldn't have been soooo bad but at the same time he yelled "MERRRRRRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS" for all our neighbours to hear. The poor guy spun around, slammed the door and was met with three kids standing there sobbing over our Christmas tree and the shock of hearing him say such things. The next day the tree was back up, with a stand full of rocks, and we never let him forget it.
So that's a couple of my favourite Phil stories.....at the same time, we also have great memories and laugh till our sides hurt thanks to him...like the time he rode Kohens hot wheels jeep home with his knees up at his ears and his feet on the hood all down Broadwater Road. Or the time Lenny handed my dad the inside part of his little training potty, complete with a giant turd in it to show off his accomplishment...and my poor dad didn't catch on quick enough and grabbed the pot and had a good long look at it before looking up at me and my mom in all seriousness and asking "is this shit?" causing us to fall out of our chairs in laughter. I think we could all get together and share stories of my dad and probably write a best selling book because I know many people would have things to contribute, good maybe, bad maybe and I bet a heck of a lot that we've never even heard about. If you run into my dad one day, be sure to ask him about the pot brownies at work, that's another story that's quite hilarious, but I'll leave that one to him. Happy Fathers Day ya asshole...I love you.
Okay so I was maybe 10? We were eating dinner. Ketchup came in glass bottles and was forever getting stuck and not pouring out. I was trying to shake the bottle upside down over my plate to get the ketchup out and was getting a bit wild with it. It kept hitting my plate "ding....ding....ding....DING...DING..DING DINGDINGDINGDING..." and finally my Dad (who worked basically two jobs and didn't sleep much remember?) SNAPPED, as he was famous for doing and go figure with 3 kids all within 5 years apart. He stood up and literally grabbed the bottle out of my hand and violently started shaking it as hard as he could up and down in a HUGE exaggerated motion...all the while yelling "THAT'S NOT HOW YOU GET THE KETCHUP OUT! THIS IS HOW YOU GET THE KETCHUP OUT!" and ketchup was flyyyyyyyying all over me, the table, the floor (carpet in the kitchen back in those days) until he finally smashed the bottle down on the table and stormed off. We all sat in silence for a few minutes...shocked at his outburst until someone must have caught a glimpse of me, covered in ketchup and started giggling. Well that was it, we all roared with laughter......and were careful never to bang the bottle on our plates again.
It's Christmas....the most wonderful time of the year. Us kids are fairly young and hopped right the fuck up with Christmas spirit and sugar and presents and Santa and are hyper beyond belief. We're vibrating trying to decorate the tree, which is always a headache of an occasion. First my dad has to get the thing in the stand....and that's usually accompanied by tons of swearing at the stand and it's crooked and my mom lovingly suggesting we turn the tree to a less bare spot and my dad whipping this thing around until finally we all just agree with him, sharing silent glances, knowing we'll spin it while he's at work. Then my dad gets the joyous job of putting up the xmas tree lights....which are all bundled in a messy ball from where he got pissed off and just randomly shoved them into garbage bags the year before...then plugging them in and trying to find the one burnt out bulb that's making the entire string dark and my mother lovingly suggesting he "scallop" the lights a little more and not skimp in the back where the neighbours can see through the window. By the time this is all done, my dad needs a good stiff drink and he's snapping at all us kids, who are completely underfoot and annoying. Then we have to be patient while my mom puts the garland on juuuuust so before we're let loose with Christmas ornaments and allowed to decorate the tree. This all takes a gooood long time and by the end of it we're all grumpy and fighting but OH doesn't the tree look gorgeous! We turn out the lights and sit around the glowing Christmas tree drinking egg nog and listening to Christmas music. This one year we had done the tree and I had gone to my room to do something else when I heard screaming and came running out. Somehow our tree had fallen over....after all that work decorating it! Our beautiful tree was laying in our living room, the stand spilling water all over our carpet and my siblings all crying. My dad by that point, had had it. He ran in the living room and flung open the door to the outside front yard.....he marched over to the tree, picked it up and hauled it like a twig to the door and THREW it on the front snow covered yard....which wouldn't have been soooo bad but at the same time he yelled "MERRRRRRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS" for all our neighbours to hear. The poor guy spun around, slammed the door and was met with three kids standing there sobbing over our Christmas tree and the shock of hearing him say such things. The next day the tree was back up, with a stand full of rocks, and we never let him forget it.
So that's a couple of my favourite Phil stories.....at the same time, we also have great memories and laugh till our sides hurt thanks to him...like the time he rode Kohens hot wheels jeep home with his knees up at his ears and his feet on the hood all down Broadwater Road. Or the time Lenny handed my dad the inside part of his little training potty, complete with a giant turd in it to show off his accomplishment...and my poor dad didn't catch on quick enough and grabbed the pot and had a good long look at it before looking up at me and my mom in all seriousness and asking "is this shit?" causing us to fall out of our chairs in laughter. I think we could all get together and share stories of my dad and probably write a best selling book because I know many people would have things to contribute, good maybe, bad maybe and I bet a heck of a lot that we've never even heard about. If you run into my dad one day, be sure to ask him about the pot brownies at work, that's another story that's quite hilarious, but I'll leave that one to him. Happy Fathers Day ya asshole...I love you.
Thursday, 31 May 2012
Pe-naus....if I say it all fancy like, does it make it fancier?
What is it with little boys and their junk?? And by junk, of course I mean their goalies. Oh, and by goalies, of course I mean dongs. What are dongs? Well, I'm trying to say their wiener. Wiener and balls to be exact...put them together, and voila! Their junk. So again, what the heck? It's like, a handle or something....better hang on for dear life in case it decides to up and fall off! Like yesterday for example, we're potty training the youngest (okay so he's old enough that he should be potty trained already but life is just so busy....and why do I feel the need to justify my non-potty trained 2.5 year old to you anyways? Thanks alot "society" you filthy two faced whore, he could be in diapers till he's seven and that's my business and not anybody elses....well, mine and social services because I'm sure his grade 2 teacher would have them knocking on our door.....sigh....this is probably another blog post all in it's self so I'm just gonna drop it and back away slowly...okay? Ready....one....two......three!) potty training the youngest and so he's running around, all free ballin it....flapping in the breeze, attempting to slide down the plastic slide....which sounds as painful as I'm sure it must feel. And every few seconds he's gotta reach on down and give it a little tug....or cup it and hang on to it while making directing eye contact...just long enough to be awkward. I mean, he's young enough, it's not horrific to see his little dingle dangling.....but there are things to be on the watch for. Like yesterday, I send Gill to my house to drop off some stuff and she comes back to the shop and tells me Lenny is running around naked.....and eating chips.....and SHARING chips....which seconds after she ate, the ol hand went back down to his junk to give it a loving tug and you KNOW that chip you just ate, was covered in penis. Over dinner, my mom shared such a story too....her moment of realization after eating a few chips out of his hand.....that second you know you've eaten a chip that touched a toddlers schlong in a round about way...and I mean, those hands are all up and on that junk! Anybody with boys knows what I'm talking about. Such an early fascination with that thing.....it's like he's already making peace with the fact that it will be making the majority of his decisions for him during "those" years in his future. He just needs to make sure it hangs in there, and doesn't get lost anywhere. And I mean really, there is nothing cuter then having him hop up on your lap and his cuuuuuute little butt cheeks dimple all up on your leg....and then you feel the ball sack settling in on the front and the cute factor drops a notch. But in the end, during this potty training phase, it's just one of those things we have to endure...I mean, yesterday he peed in the potty ALL day long for the babysitter....and my mom came and relieved her and he peed in the proper places for her too........until five minutes before I'm due to arrive home. I'm leaving the shop and we have this conversation via text....
me - Will be laving in 5. Have to stop and get wine Bary said.
Mom - Your child just shit outside, and down his leg, and ya he stepped in it. I'm having wine alone now, no guilt.
..........so then there's that. No amount of junk pulling can distract you from that. So I get home just in time to pick up little turds dropped all along the walk way......and just in time to witness Kohen ride a scooter through one of them...on purpose I think.....and continue riding it along the rest of the driveway. OH BOYS and your junk.....at least when they're holding on to it, their hands aren't free to cause much other trouble I suppose.....or at least in this house of four junk holders and me, I can only dare to hope.
me - Will be laving in 5. Have to stop and get wine Bary said.
Mom - Your child just shit outside, and down his leg, and ya he stepped in it. I'm having wine alone now, no guilt.
..........so then there's that. No amount of junk pulling can distract you from that. So I get home just in time to pick up little turds dropped all along the walk way......and just in time to witness Kohen ride a scooter through one of them...on purpose I think.....and continue riding it along the rest of the driveway. OH BOYS and your junk.....at least when they're holding on to it, their hands aren't free to cause much other trouble I suppose.....or at least in this house of four junk holders and me, I can only dare to hope.
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Shit my Kids Say.....and I love them regardless.
So my kids....they are all very....colourful. I'm not sure who possibly they most take after, but I'm pretty sure it's their dad. They come up with some of the most amazing statements...it just really blows my mind. Sometimes these things are appropriate, sometimes not so much. Here's a few memorable moments from the last few years of some of the things out of Kohens mouth-
K (the 6 year old)-
"You smell like dog." This said to our babysitter...who has many dogs.
"I don't know who I'm going to marry, but I know I'm not going to marry a boy."
"Mom? How many trees are there in the whole wide world?"
"Haha you're funny cause you pee out your butt. Mom? Do girls pee out their butts?"
"Girls like you don't have any money!" this said to one of the girls who I work with.
"It's really fucking cold in here!" testing out swearing while driving in the van...and yes, it was really fucking cold in there.
"It's really fucking cold in here!" this said when coming home to our house after Barry refused to turn the furnace on anymore for the season.
"Where the hell are we?" said as he looked up from his book while parked waiting for Barry at the bank.
An interaction between K (6) and G (12);
Gav- I had a bad day. Kohen pushed me down the path and was calling me bad names.
Me- what kinds of bad names?
Gav- I'd prefer not to say.
Me- just say it.
Gav- vagina okay? He was saying "Gav is a vagina" over and over.
"I just held my breath and counted to 100!............but just my nose."
"Dad...did you stay and watch my whole hockey game?" Barry says no he didn't "I scored goals!" which he didn't.
Me - What do you want for breakfast?
Koh - Get a shotgun, shoot a cow and I'll eat that.
While sitting on the toilet in the morning "Now I'll nevah (he doesn't pronouce his R's so this is how never sounds) go to school!! NEVAH! I can't! I'm stuck here with poo stuck in my bum!"
"Mom? Me and Gav are bastards, but not Lenny, right?? But why are we bastards?"
Koh - Mom...I don't feel good.
Me - Why?
Koh - Because I miss Grandma..........aaannnnnd my poop keeps getting stuck.........aaaaaaannnnnnd I wish to be Lenny cause he never gets punished, or hit AND GAVIN HIT ME WITH HIS GUN! DAD! GAVIN HAS BEEN ATTACKING ME ALL DAY!
K (the 6 year old)-
"You smell like dog." This said to our babysitter...who has many dogs.
"I don't know who I'm going to marry, but I know I'm not going to marry a boy."
"Mom? How many trees are there in the whole wide world?"
"Haha you're funny cause you pee out your butt. Mom? Do girls pee out their butts?"
"Girls like you don't have any money!" this said to one of the girls who I work with.
"It's really fucking cold in here!" testing out swearing while driving in the van...and yes, it was really fucking cold in there.
"It's really fucking cold in here!" this said when coming home to our house after Barry refused to turn the furnace on anymore for the season.
"Where the hell are we?" said as he looked up from his book while parked waiting for Barry at the bank.
An interaction between K (6) and G (12);
Gav- I had a bad day. Kohen pushed me down the path and was calling me bad names.
Me- what kinds of bad names?
Gav- I'd prefer not to say.
Me- just say it.
Gav- vagina okay? He was saying "Gav is a vagina" over and over.
"I just held my breath and counted to 100!............but just my nose."
"Dad...did you stay and watch my whole hockey game?" Barry says no he didn't "I scored goals!" which he didn't.
Me - What do you want for breakfast?
Koh - Get a shotgun, shoot a cow and I'll eat that.
While sitting on the toilet in the morning "Now I'll nevah (he doesn't pronouce his R's so this is how never sounds) go to school!! NEVAH! I can't! I'm stuck here with poo stuck in my bum!"
"Mom? Me and Gav are bastards, but not Lenny, right?? But why are we bastards?"
Koh - Mom...I don't feel good.
Me - Why?
Koh - Because I miss Grandma..........aaannnnnd my poop keeps getting stuck.........aaaaaaannnnnnd I wish to be Lenny cause he never gets punished, or hit AND GAVIN HIT ME WITH HIS GUN! DAD! GAVIN HAS BEEN ATTACKING ME ALL DAY!
Saturday, 28 April 2012
Which of my kids did this.......
Let's play a guessing game! I'll give you three guesses....okay, which of my three darling brats children got suspended from school for 1 day and their bus for 3 days? I know it's early, I'll help you out a bit.....I only have two kids who ride the bus. Also, now I realize I gave you three guesses, so unless you're high on computer duster, you should be able to get this one. What? Oh, I think I just heard a collective yell echoing off the mountains.......THE RED HEAD??? Yes. If you were a part of the group of people who screamed at their computer screen that it was Kohen, you have been paying attention. Congrats, send me your address and I'll bake you some cookies. And for those who just yelled "the red head" because obviously red heads are soulless devil children, yeah, you win too. And for everyone else who guessed Gavin, please take yourselves to the nearest other person in the room and instruct them to punch you in the face because you sir, are an idiot.
So my lovely middle child.....sigh......yup. It's Wednesday and I'm at work. Me and Carmen are blowing each other out......wait wait wait wait.......it's early, let me reword that. Ahem.....me and Carmen were tag team blowing each other out..........no no no....honest, it's not like that. I should probably explain before I sign myself up for a 1-900 number here.....okay so there's this HAIR treatment, like the hair on top of your HEAD and it's called a "blowout".....yeah, not the best choice of terms but basically you use a BLOW dryer to blow the curls OUT....hence, blowout. Got it? Okay so there we were, mid blowout (stop giggling) and Barry walks into the shop. Now, he looks like either someone has died, or maybe he was fired, or maybe he saw the dent I put in the back of the flex (just kidding honey, that was my mom), or maybe he finally saw the receipt from the last pair of boots I bought....anyways....he looks very upset. He demands to speak to me in the back room and says he's on his way to pick up Kohen from school. Awesome. AND that Kohen has been kicked off the bus........for uttering threats. Now, Kohen is six, and a boy, so I'm a little confused for a minute about what types of "threats" he'd be saying to get him into so much trouble. I mean, at our house, the boys threaten each other all the time......threats of punching each other and taking away toys and kicking and smacking........but our darling didn't threaten any of that...no no....Kohen told another student he was going to "stab you with a knife". Yeah. He went there. The other detail......he told this to a kindergarten girl. A little sweet girl in kindergarten....probably wearing a sweet little floral dress and pigtails. Stab you with a knife.
*crickets chirping*
Yeah. I didn't know what to say either...all though, upon telling this story to people at the salon, I had one person remark "Awwwww he's got a crush!!" which actually made me laugh pretty hard. But I guess they suspected he may actually HAVE a knife....which, knowing Kohen, anything is possible. He was searched and his backpack was searched andthank god obviously he didn't have one! So we got phoned and called into the office and told they were making an example of this and he was suspended for the day, and off the bus for the rest of the week. Ohhhhhhh Kohen. And what do you do?? To punish him? He was all excited that we'd be picking him up from school....and driving him too school....it was like a vacation for him. And he's already grounded off of video games and computer and and and and.....what else is there? So we reinforce that it's bad to say and we don't talk like that and made him apologise......and hopefully in the future the neighbours cats won't ever go missing and wind up in our deep freeze.
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So my lovely middle child.....sigh......yup. It's Wednesday and I'm at work. Me and Carmen are blowing each other out......wait wait wait wait.......it's early, let me reword that. Ahem.....me and Carmen were tag team blowing each other out..........no no no....honest, it's not like that. I should probably explain before I sign myself up for a 1-900 number here.....okay so there's this HAIR treatment, like the hair on top of your HEAD and it's called a "blowout".....yeah, not the best choice of terms but basically you use a BLOW dryer to blow the curls OUT....hence, blowout. Got it? Okay so there we were, mid blowout (stop giggling) and Barry walks into the shop. Now, he looks like either someone has died, or maybe he was fired, or maybe he saw the dent I put in the back of the flex (just kidding honey, that was my mom), or maybe he finally saw the receipt from the last pair of boots I bought....anyways....he looks very upset. He demands to speak to me in the back room and says he's on his way to pick up Kohen from school. Awesome. AND that Kohen has been kicked off the bus........for uttering threats. Now, Kohen is six, and a boy, so I'm a little confused for a minute about what types of "threats" he'd be saying to get him into so much trouble. I mean, at our house, the boys threaten each other all the time......threats of punching each other and taking away toys and kicking and smacking........but our darling didn't threaten any of that...no no....Kohen told another student he was going to "stab you with a knife". Yeah. He went there. The other detail......he told this to a kindergarten girl. A little sweet girl in kindergarten....probably wearing a sweet little floral dress and pigtails. Stab you with a knife.
*crickets chirping*
Yeah. I didn't know what to say either...all though, upon telling this story to people at the salon, I had one person remark "Awwwww he's got a crush!!" which actually made me laugh pretty hard. But I guess they suspected he may actually HAVE a knife....which, knowing Kohen, anything is possible. He was searched and his backpack was searched and
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Friday, 13 April 2012
Spring, you stupid jerk.
All I've been doing is whining about wanting spring....wanting it to hurry up and get here. Hurry up and get sunny!! And this morning, it's sunny! It's beaming into all my windows....and I don't have curtains so it's literally BEAMING into all my windows. And now it's here, and sunny, I'm going to whine about something else. Fuck you spring. That sunshine is just highlighting all the grossness that my house has become over the winter. All the dust, and dirt and grime that was hiding in the long dark winter days is now glaring at me everywhere. Too many months of the kids being cooped up inside and I can see every disgusting fingerprint, jam smudge, juice spill and I don't even want to know what other stains. It's making me grumpy because yet again today, I have to ignore it all and go to work. Another day that it's going to stay a filthy mess. This week, my husband and I have seen each other only a handful of times in passing....I've been sick and grumpy with a cold and the kids are all squirrely from having too much time off school and the change in seasons. We haven't had time for a spring clean, and not that it would do much....leave it to the 3 boys who live with us and the place would be destroyed in record time, as usual. And even if we do get a spare couple hours, trying to do housework with the kids is a mission impossible. The 2 year old follows you around leaving a path of mess and the other boys do nothing but cry and fight over who has to do what and where. It's a frustrating job. Basically what we need is a nice, neat, tidy apartment that we can just go like hang out in every once in a while. Leave the kids the house to run all Lord of the Flies in and destroy as they see fit. And as they get bigger, and smellier, I'm sure the mess will too. I can't even count the number of times a day we clean the kitchen, and if you could see it now, you would call me a filthy liar and probably spit at me or whatever people to do filthy kitchen liars. And there's my whine for the day. Hopefully my wine for the evening will make some of it better. The only thing left to say about all of this is a quote from a guy who used to work with my dad. Whenever anyone would moan and groan about their kids he'd say "That's the price of fucking." and ya ya ya....I know I know I know. When one of them becomes a rich orthodontist and we can live the extravagant lifestyle, we'll sit around and laugh at that saying....laugh all the way to the bank.
Thursday, 5 April 2012
*SIGH* KOHEN.
I am NOT a morning person. I'm pretty much the crankiest you know what if I get up on the wrong side of the bed....which is any side of the bed really some mornings. And other mornings, things have potential to be okay but one of my fucking darling children will essentially shove me off the wrong side of the bed and the rest of the day is doomed. Take this morning for example. The alarm goes off the first time, which the clock is set 15 minutes fast to begin with just so I can snooze it a couple times and not be late, and I slap the snooze right out of that bitch. I hear Barry downstairs getting ready to leave for work and I hear Kohen head on down there too. Good, I don't have to drag Kohen out of bed, he's already up, good start I can snooze one more time. SNOOOZE. In my half asleep, half awake state I hear Kohen opening the microwave up. He insists on having his chocolate milk warmed up. I drift off again and hear Kohen whimpering. Now, I know what this is looking like..........I'm the mom, all up warm and cozy in my bed while my little darling child is downstairs playing with cooking appliances....and before you "go there" let me interject with this; he's almost 7 and can heat up his own damn chocolate milk....if my kids wind up in the Hunger Games, they are going to be prepared, that's my job as their Mom so mind your own damn business. Where was I? Oh right....whimpering. Okay, again, let me clarify......I'm not talking whimpering like "ow ow ow hurt", I'm talking like "oh shit moms gonna snap".....see the difference? Okay good! So anyways.....I assume he's spilt his chocolate milk in the attempt to haul it out of the microwave which is a little higher up then he can really reach (7...Hunger Games....raise your own kids) so I haul myself out of bed and grumpily start heading down. Kohen meets me on the stairs and he's got his face covered by his hands...
"I'm sorrrrrry mom! I'm sorrrrrrry!"
Big Sigh "What Kohen?"
"I wanted to make an egg and it exploded."
"WHAT??!!??" I didn't even know he could crack open an egg!
"I'm sorrry! But it like....exploded!"
I walk over to the microwave and notice the time is sitting at 2:35 so I'm assuming it was set for 3 minutes and open it up (he's closed it and run) and this is what I find...
"I'm sorrrrrry mom! I'm sorrrrrrry!"
Big Sigh "What Kohen?"
"I wanted to make an egg and it exploded."
"WHAT??!!??" I didn't even know he could crack open an egg!
"I'm sorrry! But it like....exploded!"
I walk over to the microwave and notice the time is sitting at 2:35 so I'm assuming it was set for 3 minutes and open it up (he's closed it and run) and this is what I find...
I took the glass part out already before I got smart and thought I should take a pic so it's not as bad as it was....so use your imaginations and picture that glass spinny part COVERED in egg whites and explosion. Now, I'm looking at this and I'm a little stunned. How did that egg explode........ohhhh......shells. Basically Kohen stuck an ENTIRE egg, in it's SHELL in a cup, and nuked it for almost 1 minute. Huh. Neat.
This was all that was left in the cup. Those suckers EXPLODE pretty majorly. So that's how my morning started! I spent the next half hour trying to scrape cooked egg off the inside of my microwave with a butter knife crying. Oh, and I tried the ol' stick a cup of water in the microwave and heat it up and let the steam gently massage and caress all the gunk off the inside of your microwave trick....and in my half stunned morning state, nuked it for a minute and a half and then whipped open the microwave, grabbed the cup and totally burnt my hand so that worked pretty well. And it didn't even get the egg off....cause I missed the step where you leave your microwave closed and let the steam actually DO something (other then burn you)....so for future reference, if you need household cleaning tips, ask somebody else because apparently Susy Fucking Homemaker I'm not. Shattered your dreams with that one didn't I? And as for Kohen....he's had a rough couple of days. Yesterday evening we found all our missing toothpastes thrown into our non-working storage bathtub downstairs hiding amongst the mops and cleaning supplies because he "doesn't like the taste" and we're out of kids toothpaste. Wouldn't life be dull without him?? I just keep repeating that to myself with every sip of wine. Merlot and fruit loops for breakfast again!! Haha just kidding, that's gross, you gotta drink it with cheerios.
Monday, 12 March 2012
OMFG 2 YEAR OLDS
Lenny is two....like, the number of years old, but also like the personality. Over night I swear he has turned into a full blown two year old. Yesterday.....he was into EVERYTHING. And, I was home and right with him and he just found multiple ways to be a two year old. For starters, he's beating up his brothers....his older brothers....his older, bigger brothers. And not like a little bit, like he's bringing them to tears with his punches and kicks. So that's awesome. So yesterday he wants a bag of chips....an entire bag of tortilla chips...the big bag. He's dumping them everywhere and I'm trying to wrestle the bag away and get him a bowl of chips. So I grab a bowl which happened to be a glass salad bowl that is part of a set we got for our wedding....which okay yes, maybe not the best bowl but the kids are on spring break and eating cereal all day long and every other bowl I owned was dirty and in the dishwasher for the 537827th time and even Lenny had oatmeal for breakfast out of one of those gladware plastic dealies. You've all been there so stop smirking! ANYWAYS.....I give him this bowl of chips, which he's pissed off about cause he wanted the entire bag so I had to do the ol' pretend and give them another brother trick and then all of a sudden it's like crack and he HAS to have them. So he's sitting on the couch watching TV and all of a sudden SMAAASSHHHHH and Gavin yells "LENNNNNNNYYYY!" and there goes my bowl. He pushed it off the couch in a throwing motion and managed to smash it all over the rug. My lovely oldest boy jumps up, scoops Lenny out of the way and proceeds to clean it up AND vacuum for me (not the chips crunched all over the couch though but that's besides the point). Moving on.....we're also semi-potty training....meaning he runs around naked a lot. He's usually pretty darn good about announcing he has to pee, mostly because he loves to flush so I don't worry too much about him marking his territory all over. So he comes motoring into the kitchen while I'm doing dishes, runs over to the rug by the front door and proceeds to PEE ALL OVER IT. And like, not just a little....like, he's been saving this one up for a while. He just stands there all naked with his little hips thrust out peeing in kind of a back and forth motion....I'm yelling "LEENNNNNNYYYYYY THE POTTY!!" and he's smiling away, making puddles. And honestly, why the rug??! We have hardwood floors and lino and he has to pick the one scrap of carpet for miles! Great....a roll of paper towel later and I hear flushing. Now I'm pretty sure he didn't just pee in there cause I'm still busy mopping it all up and then it's quiet....so of course I go RUNNING for dear life into the bathroom just in time to see that he's unrolled the entire brand new roll of toilet paper, tossed it all into the toilet and he's flushing it. LEEENNNNNNYYYYY!!!! My heart stops for a moment, waiting to see if it'll actually flush....swirling....swirling....okay phew....it's down and I've narrowly escaped having to wash my bathroom floor. Okay, yeeesss I wash my bathroom floor....many times a week because in case you forgot, I live with 4 boys and there's always pee on it. But at that moment in time, I was not really into it. I hussle him outta there and he goes to play nicely (ha!) with Kohen. I finish the dishes and again....quiet. Fuck. So I bust into the living room and there's Lenny, sitting on the couch colouring nicely. No, not my couch, don't jump to conclusions. He's sitting there holding his WIENER up and outta the way with his left hand and very carefully colouring his BALL SACK with an orange felt pen..*SIGH* And you know what? I let him finish. And then I didn't even clean it off....I just let him run around bare clackers with a flaming orange ball sack. Why? Cause that's just the kind of mom I am. After that, it was steadily downhill with the climbing on counters, eating half a bag of chocolate chips, drawing on the table and other things, but watching him do it all with bright orange boys sorta made it all the more comical and easier to deal with. Maybe that's the answer to the worlds problems? Colour your balls and people will let you get away with more cause you look so ridiculous that you can't help but smile with every flop?
Monday, 20 February 2012
Fun Facts! Or not...god there is just NO pleasing you is there??!!
In the spirit of complete randomness, this post is dedicated to my parents. My darling kooky parents, who without them, I would not be the person I am today. Basically, everything about me that's "odd", I'm blaming on them....but don't tell them that. Let's just pretend right now that I'm writing this because...like.....I admire them? Yeah, I admire them and cherish all my personality traits cause that's what makes me "me". And the funniest part is, most of you know my parents....and you know how completely insane they are! And the fact that me and my siblings are so put together is really just sheer luck and street smarts! I mean....gaawwddd.....so anyways, thanks to them I'm a pseudo-nut job...oh no, wait.....pseudo means fake....thank you grade 7...so I guess I'm just a nut job? Okay, glad to clear that up. Here are some fun facts about moi!
1) I wear glasses. Yes, I'm starting off a little disappointing here. But the fact I wear glasses is only known to anyone who has ever been here late enough in the evening to see me attempt to watch TV from across the living room. Cause that's the only time I wear them. Now now, don't fret, I don't need them to cut hair! Just like...detail work....annnd stuff....waaaiittt......awkward....
2) I have NEVER seen an episode of The Bachelor, Bachelorette, Biggest Loser, American Idol, The Voice, America's got Talent, Kardashians, or anything on MTV, blah blah reality TV. The last reality TV show I watched was the finale of the VERY FIRST SEASON of Survivor....I was pregnant with Gavin and it was 1999.
3) Continuing with the NEVER TV theme....I have NEVER seen the movie Titanic. This used to piss my sister off who loved the movie....she'd try and sneak it into the VCR (google it) and try and pretend it was a different movie and trap me into watching it. Nowadays, it's strictly this; if I watch it, I can no long say I've NEVER seen it. So I won't.
4) I know how to juggle. This fact once brought a girl to tears (it was Gill, still don't know why my juggling brought her to such emotion) and is a sight that again, few have witnessed. I'm not an amazing juggler anymore, but maybe I'll practice again and take my show on the road.
5) Boys with long hair make me SWWOOONNN. I'm not talking about those scruffy, shaggy junior high/high school boys.....I'm talking like grown up boys. With long hair.......ohhhhh yeah. I once dated a guy in college who my sister called "Jesus" and yeah, it was pretty accurate.
6) Okay....now this is a deep dark secret. Maybe I'll save it for the end....it's pretty unreal.
7) In too many ways, I am EXACTLY. MY. DAD. This fact was thrown in my face during an argument with him the other night and as he sat there smirking, I had to resist the urge to start screaming dramatically and pack my stuff and run away. Now I know for a fact, he'll never read this (fun fact about him....he just recently learnt how to turn on a computer) so I feel safe in saying that I usually regard my father (lovingly sure) as a spoiled rotten child. That pretty much sums up his personality. So the fact that we share so many similar traits, makes me crazy annoyed. I'm alot like my mom too, but I think the personality traits of mine that are the quickest to flare up and show themselves come from him. SUCH AS....my temper, impatience, inability to be bored without killing people, need for constant motion, TV/radio station/song constant flicking, acting like spoiled rotten brats, we have a hard time when we're not the centre of the universe (thank you MOM for the combo on this one and my ability to at least pretend I'm not when needed) and the list goes on. But as much as I have those traits, it's not all bad from him.....I also have good knees for sports, sense of humour, easy to make friends, can talk to anyone in the world and have them fall in love with me (even if just a little bit), love of music and an appreciation for the things that make a small town small. So it's a bit of both.
8) I LOVE to write! Okay, again, not blowing your mind here. I can hear you thinking "do you think we're idiots? Obviously you're writing this right now!" and no, I think you're all brilliant...I'm talking about writing stories, poems, essays, fact, fiction etc etc. I ADORE writing! I was that girl who would bang out an obscenely large essay the night before and get an A on it. I used to have quite a collection of my writings....before computers were so rampant....and a friend of mine had them to edit for me and left them in his car and then sold his car and they all went to the dump. He nicely offered to help me re-write them claiming he could remember the basic ideas of them but I was upset and discouraged and that was pretty much the end of my writing career.....the dump.
9) All through school, I thought when I graduated, I would go to acting school. I LOVE acting. My dream was to be in a production on Broadway. I'd like to think that if my life had gone in a different direction, I would have had the gusto to make that happen.
10) I'm obsessed with leather, pvc, latex clothing. Anytime I have a costume to wear, I try and incoporate as much of these fabrics as possible. They make me feel amazing when wearing.
11) And last but not least....my deep dark secret.....are you ready? For those who already know this fact (all 4 of you) you can feel smug in knowing that before I published it on the entire world wide web, I felt safe enough to share with you.....you're welcome. So...okay.....it's hard to type....i'm feeling all sweaty and my palms are damp........CHEERLEADERS MAKE ME CRY. Okay...I think it feels good to get that out...all tho, it makes me feel like i'm going to cry....thinking about them. Now this is a crazy thing. It all started when I was pregnant with Gavin and I'd watch those like cheer competitions on TV and something about them made me bawl my face off. I don't know if it's like the high level of energy, the sound of the crowd, how they all fill out their cheerleading bibs with their boobs unlike I was ever able to do in pompom girls, the fact that they have so much team spirit...I don't know. And this wasn't like a silent sobbing type cry....it was a full out vocal my grandmother just died gut wrenching body busting wail. And now, the thought of watching it makes the hairs on my arms stand up and my eyes get misty. I thought once I had Gavin, hormones being hormones, I'd go back to normal and this wouldn't happen. But no....it does. And it's the worst thing ever. Remember when those movies "Bring it" or whatever came out? Do you know how many times they advertised on TV? Instant tear fest, every time.
So there you have it. Eleven fun filled facts about me. Because I am the centre of the universe and you are all in love with me, am I missing any great ones that people should know? If so, please share!
1) I wear glasses. Yes, I'm starting off a little disappointing here. But the fact I wear glasses is only known to anyone who has ever been here late enough in the evening to see me attempt to watch TV from across the living room. Cause that's the only time I wear them. Now now, don't fret, I don't need them to cut hair! Just like...detail work....annnd stuff....waaaiittt......awkward....
2) I have NEVER seen an episode of The Bachelor, Bachelorette, Biggest Loser, American Idol, The Voice, America's got Talent, Kardashians, or anything on MTV, blah blah reality TV. The last reality TV show I watched was the finale of the VERY FIRST SEASON of Survivor....I was pregnant with Gavin and it was 1999.
3) Continuing with the NEVER TV theme....I have NEVER seen the movie Titanic. This used to piss my sister off who loved the movie....she'd try and sneak it into the VCR (google it) and try and pretend it was a different movie and trap me into watching it. Nowadays, it's strictly this; if I watch it, I can no long say I've NEVER seen it. So I won't.
4) I know how to juggle. This fact once brought a girl to tears (it was Gill, still don't know why my juggling brought her to such emotion) and is a sight that again, few have witnessed. I'm not an amazing juggler anymore, but maybe I'll practice again and take my show on the road.
5) Boys with long hair make me SWWOOONNN. I'm not talking about those scruffy, shaggy junior high/high school boys.....I'm talking like grown up boys. With long hair.......ohhhhh yeah. I once dated a guy in college who my sister called "Jesus" and yeah, it was pretty accurate.
6) Okay....now this is a deep dark secret. Maybe I'll save it for the end....it's pretty unreal.
7) In too many ways, I am EXACTLY. MY. DAD. This fact was thrown in my face during an argument with him the other night and as he sat there smirking, I had to resist the urge to start screaming dramatically and pack my stuff and run away. Now I know for a fact, he'll never read this (fun fact about him....he just recently learnt how to turn on a computer) so I feel safe in saying that I usually regard my father (lovingly sure) as a spoiled rotten child. That pretty much sums up his personality. So the fact that we share so many similar traits, makes me crazy annoyed. I'm alot like my mom too, but I think the personality traits of mine that are the quickest to flare up and show themselves come from him. SUCH AS....my temper, impatience, inability to be bored without killing people, need for constant motion, TV/radio station/song constant flicking, acting like spoiled rotten brats, we have a hard time when we're not the centre of the universe (thank you MOM for the combo on this one and my ability to at least pretend I'm not when needed) and the list goes on. But as much as I have those traits, it's not all bad from him.....I also have good knees for sports, sense of humour, easy to make friends, can talk to anyone in the world and have them fall in love with me (even if just a little bit), love of music and an appreciation for the things that make a small town small. So it's a bit of both.
8) I LOVE to write! Okay, again, not blowing your mind here. I can hear you thinking "do you think we're idiots? Obviously you're writing this right now!" and no, I think you're all brilliant...I'm talking about writing stories, poems, essays, fact, fiction etc etc. I ADORE writing! I was that girl who would bang out an obscenely large essay the night before and get an A on it. I used to have quite a collection of my writings....before computers were so rampant....and a friend of mine had them to edit for me and left them in his car and then sold his car and they all went to the dump. He nicely offered to help me re-write them claiming he could remember the basic ideas of them but I was upset and discouraged and that was pretty much the end of my writing career.....the dump.
9) All through school, I thought when I graduated, I would go to acting school. I LOVE acting. My dream was to be in a production on Broadway. I'd like to think that if my life had gone in a different direction, I would have had the gusto to make that happen.
10) I'm obsessed with leather, pvc, latex clothing. Anytime I have a costume to wear, I try and incoporate as much of these fabrics as possible. They make me feel amazing when wearing.
11) And last but not least....my deep dark secret.....are you ready? For those who already know this fact (all 4 of you) you can feel smug in knowing that before I published it on the entire world wide web, I felt safe enough to share with you.....you're welcome. So...okay.....it's hard to type....i'm feeling all sweaty and my palms are damp........CHEERLEADERS MAKE ME CRY. Okay...I think it feels good to get that out...all tho, it makes me feel like i'm going to cry....thinking about them. Now this is a crazy thing. It all started when I was pregnant with Gavin and I'd watch those like cheer competitions on TV and something about them made me bawl my face off. I don't know if it's like the high level of energy, the sound of the crowd, how they all fill out their cheerleading bibs with their boobs unlike I was ever able to do in pompom girls, the fact that they have so much team spirit...I don't know. And this wasn't like a silent sobbing type cry....it was a full out vocal my grandmother just died gut wrenching body busting wail. And now, the thought of watching it makes the hairs on my arms stand up and my eyes get misty. I thought once I had Gavin, hormones being hormones, I'd go back to normal and this wouldn't happen. But no....it does. And it's the worst thing ever. Remember when those movies "Bring it" or whatever came out? Do you know how many times they advertised on TV? Instant tear fest, every time.
So there you have it. Eleven fun filled facts about me. Because I am the centre of the universe and you are all in love with me, am I missing any great ones that people should know? If so, please share!
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