Help a gal (or two) out

So over at Burgh Baby, the entire month's ad revenue is being donated to the Flight 93 memorial fund. More money is made for each and every click of a page. And to make a bit more money for this worthy cause Burgh is hosting a contest in which bloggers have donated prizes.

There's all sorts of great stuff...gift cards, clothing, makeup, DVDs...and all you have to do is leave a comment saying what you would like should your name be drawn.

I did a little Second Cup shopping this weekend and picked up some white hot chocolate (the best ever!) and some English breakfast teabags. Since we hadn't opened anything yet, I thought I would donate that, and I will pick up some Tim Horton's coffee since people seem to like it. Not me, I'm not a coffee fan. Did you know there is even a Tim Horton's in Afghanistan? It is not only enjoyed by Canadian forces, but by all NATO soldiers.

I also have some cards I am willing to pass on. I was a little nervous when a gal who makes stampin' up cards put her name in for them because say she is absolutely amazing? There are couple each of the first two cards, and a quite a few of the final card...perfect for those little girl birthday parties!

So go on over to Burgh Baby, tell her you want my stuff so that at least I offer a little competition to all the great stuff over there. And, you know, so I don't look like such a loser.

Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers...

...I'm thinking that all you people shopping at the west end Wal-Mart yesterday have never had a child, or, judging by the age of some of you, you gave birth in the midst of the Depression and have convienently forgotten that two year olds are prone to temper tantrums. Of course, I forget that children "back in my day" were extremely well behaved and never, ever would have dreamed of pitching a fit in the midst of the super long Wal-Mart line. Or the local Hudson's Bay Company in those days I suppose.

But my two year old? She is prone to those tantrums. And quite honestly, I don't need to listen to your snide little comments. I don't need to feel your evil glare boring a hole in the back of my head. I don't need to hear from my friend that the guy in the line behind her said "She should just give that kid a sucker."

First off, I am not going to reward my child for having screaming bloody murder. As much as I hate the fact that I am making a store full of people listen to my child have a fit, I am not willing to give her a treat to make her stop.

And just so you know, she wasn't crying because she wanted some candy and I said no. She was crying because she wasn't allowed to run amongst the bras and panties. She was mad that I made her walk away. So mad she decided just to lie down in the middle of the aisle. Me picking her up and putting her in the cart is what led to her trying to scream the building down.

Yes, I know that girl can scream. It was in my ear after all. But you? Are no more mature than her with your holier than thou attitudes.

Not so sincerely,

Emma,
Mum of 4 (and just so you know, 2 of those 4 never had tantrums!)

How a miserable week ended well

This past week was hard. I always find September stressful, it seems like for every dollar we bring into the house I am required to spend 2. School fees, new gym uniforms, fundraisers, $73.45 dance shoes, indoor soccer fees...it's neverfreakingending.

But this September? Has been a bitch. She has kicked me in that ass one too many times. And this past week has been a nightmare.

Last week Saoirse developed a cold which turned into asthma. William was getting ready for work and we watched her struggling for breath as she slept. He said he was calling into work and taking her to the ER.

On the weekend, Liam's soccer team was in the Inter-cities. They lost their first game on Saturday morning. Liam was pretty down, as the goalie he felt responsible for their 6-1 thrashing (when in reality they still would have lost by 3 goals had he not let in 2 rather easy ones.) I told him he played a good game (he did! he made some amazing saves) and gave the usual rahrah statements. He got upset, William said something stupid, I got mad, William got mad...blah, blah, blah. They lost game 2 that evening and game 3 the next morning. They came in 4th out of 4 and yet they still got a medal. Copper. Who knew? I think it's pretty ridiculous myself. So did Liam apparently as he immediately gave it to Saoirse, who now has a pretty impressive collection of soccer medals. Two belong to her, the rest are Liam's.

On Monday William didn't go into work again. I had to go for a filling. Ouch.

On Tuesday William went into work and came home just past noon. I thought he was home early for lunch but it turned out he had been sent home "to cool down." Which worked out great for him, as the Liverpool game was on TV. For months William has been asking to change departments and has been getting the run around. That day they told him he could move in October if his attitude improved. I guess he got a little mad about this. I can't really blame him, they have sort of fucked him, and others, around. He was supposed to get a raise in April but didn't. They were told that when they did get the raise in would be retroactive to April. They then decided to do that just for people who had been there a year. William kicked up a fuss, as I think most of us would. He then found out that all new hires were being paid what they were. So it really wasn't much of a raise at all. Anyway, they didn't like that he was standing up for himself. Granted, William is not exactly the most tactful person out there so I can certainly see where they might refer to an attitude.

On Tuesday evening I had a meeting at the playschool. I thought it would be an hour. It was 2 and a half. I missed the early viewing of 90210 for goodness sake. I got home at 9 pm and Taylor was sitting at the computer and Liam was watching TV. The dishes from supper, 3 hours before, were still sitting on the counter and the table. I freaked. You know, I had just had enough. Do I really need to tell a 13 year old that I would like her to do dishes? I went on strike, in regards to anything to do with Taylor and Liam. I told them I wouldn't cook for them and I wouldn't do their laundry, clean their bathroom, etc... It is now Saturday and I have not cooked a meal for them yet. I did do their laundry today, forgetting that they were not in my good books.

He took a personal day on Wednesday. Silly. Saoirse had an appointment with a pediatric lung specialist. For the first time, I realized that Saoirse could actually die from this. Even though I have a cousin who died during an asthma attack I just didn't think of it like that. So he prescribed a nebulizer for her and the neds that go with it. We were told to pick the machine up at the pharmacy downstairs, as most don't carry it. I was cursing myself for not bringing my insurance card through William's work, as my coverage is 80% and his is 100%. So the pharmacist shows me how to use it and then says "$230. And it's not covered by Blue Cross." Huh? Insurance covers the medication but not the machine needed to administer the medication? What is that craziness? Well, payday wasn't until Friday and there wasn't $230 in the bank. I slunk out of the pharmacy with my head down in shame. Well, until I had to chase Sophie through a food court. Then I was just pissy.

Thursday morning William had a panic attack before going into work. (Have I mentioned boefre that he suffers from anxiety? He does, big time.) Needless to say, he didn't go in. Later that morning I listened to a message from his boss asking him to come in and talk. William, who must live in lala land, was under the impression all would be fine. I was a little more realistic. I was pretty sure he would be fired and if not fired, then severly reprimanded. Essentially what happened was he went in for this "talk" and his boos said "Here are your papers. We have just cause to let you go." By saying they have just cause they don't have to pay him a week in lieu of notice. And they do have just cause. He missed 4 out of 5 days. It doesn;t matter that he was one of the hardest workers they had. I would have fired his ass too.

So yeah...it was a shitty week.

But then... he called a company that had advertised in the paper that they needed installers. This is what William wanted to do at the company he was working with, and for some reason it never happened. He had talked to them on Tuesday, knowing that his days at Company A were numbered. He was asked to come in for an interview on Friday. And he got the job! They will train him for 2 weeks, they will build the rack he needs for his truck, they will even pay for the tools he will need and he can pay them back "$100 here and there." Because he will be a contractor, he will need a company. They gave him some ideas for that, and we have a few friends who have small companies, so we will talk to them. I'm very excited about this, I really hope it all works out.

Because if I have another week like this one? It won'be be pretty. Not at all.

An early conversation about boy parts...

Saoirse (2 months away from age 4): I don't like penises.

Me (good mother that I am): Oh, I bet one day you will.

Saoirse: You mean when I'm bigger?

Me: Yep, when you are bigger. Much bigger.

God forbid when she realizes what you do with those penises.