Once upon a time when I was thirteen

Thirteen was not a bad year for me. It was the year I had my first French kiss, on a canal boat somewhere in England. It was the year of my first provided-by-someone else orgasm. It was the year I flew to England on my own. It was the year I realized I was a bit of a loner, because being with all those relatives for 7 weeks? As much as I loved them I longed for my alone time. (The kiss, by the way, was not with a relative. That's my Irish cousins that do that. My English side- pretty freaking normal.) It was the the year I wrote dozens of terrible short stories and sappy poems. It was a year in which I failed French, but excelled in Language Arts, sucked at Math and did great in Social Studies.

It was also the year of The List:

1. I will never, ever yell at my children.
2. I will always listen to my children.
3. I will ask my children what they think.
4. I will never smack my children.
5. I will let my children have sleepovers every weekend.
6. I will not get mad at my kids if their rooms are messy.
7. I will play with my children.
8. I will not wait until I am old before I have children. Note: my mother was 24 when I was born. 24! So not old!
9. I will buy my children really great clothes.
10. I will not fight with my husband in front of my children.
11. I will never favour one child over the other.
12. I will give my kids a really good allowance.
13. But I won't make them clean.

Ah. To be 13 again, and to believe that I would be the perfect mother. Looking back, I know my mother was not just a good mother, she was a great mum. She struggled. She made mistakes. She yelled a lot (which is totally where I get it from, which she doesn't believe) but most of her yelling was actually at my dad, not at us. But because she was the yeller, and he was so quiet, I always took his side. I didn't realize he was so quiet because he was falling over drunk. My mother never let my brother and I know when it was financially difficult. I didn't have all the brand name clothes, but I wasn't among the worst dressed kids in the school.

I look back now and I wonder how she did it. How did she work full time and keep a clean house when I am at home and can barely manage to do the basics every day? How is it that there was always money for movies and field trips and take out every Friday when my father constantly quit jobs and would empty her chequing account buying drinks for him and his friends at the club? I never had any idea until I was an adult how much she put up with.

I didn't know until I was an adult that every time we went to England on holiday, she planned on not going back to Canada, but that my brother and I would start talking about missing our dad so we always came back. That, I think, was her biggest mistake, but I can totally see why she did it.

I have broken most every rule on this list that I made. I have smacked Taylor and Liam, I have yelled. God, have I yelled. I really need to work on that one, because Taylor is very snappy with Liam and Saoirse, and I can see her as a mother like myself one day. I get mad at her for yelling, but would she know better when it probably seems like that is all she hears? Of course not.

Some of these things are down right unreasonable. Sleepovers every weekend? I'd die. I don't even know why I had that on there, it seems to me a friend or my cousin were always over. I do recall asking her if a friend could sleep over and her saying no, because she didn't know what my dad would be like when he got home. Of course, I would have blamed her, not him. Really great clothes? Well, I know for a fact my kids have way more clothes than I did as a kid, because Taylor's closet is almost 3 times the size what mine was and it is jam packed. Are they are all really great clothes? Probably not, there's mostly Old Navy, some brand name clearance, but I'm not one to buy clothes from Zellers or Wal-Mart (okay I do like George, but mostly for the little ones.) Come to think of it, my mother wouldn't buy clothes from Zellers either and there was no Wal-Mart then, but even today she wouldn't go there. I so get my blue collar snobbiness from her. What I have discovered about kids and clothes is that you can buy them the nicest things and it's all up to them how they put it together. Once they pass a certain age you can't choose what they will wear to school. Case in point: Taylor, today. Brown t-shirt, with Old Navy on front in pink. Different shade of brown capris, Old Navy. White sweat socks, ankle length. Black slip on Esprit shoes. Yeah. So not pretty.

Crap this is long. I should have just written that I am going to look at the reasonable things on this list and re-evaluate how I treat my children. Because do I really want Taylor to one day blog (or whatever it is they'll be doing in the future) about what a terrible mother I was? Absolutely not.

7 Random Things...a TMI post *EDITED to actually reach 7

I like to warn people before I post topics that may not please all readers so consider this fair warning.

I was tagged by the lovely (and Canadian) Catwoman to do this meme. I left her a comment saying that I don't think there's 7 things I haven't told you people, except for things about sex. And even that you guys know more than some of my friends. As per the whole spit or swallow conversation. (Swallow in case you forgot. And you?)

1. The first time I ever had sex it took 3 tries. Over 2 different occassions. The very first attempt was in a room full of people, though we were away from everyone. But seriously, as if they didn't know what was going on. Duh.

2. The first time I ever got very drunk (blacked out like) I was 17. I got kicked out a bar for causing a commotion. I went to the bathroom and couldn't do up my buttonfly jeans and came out of the toilet freaking out. That's not why why I got kicked out, I can't remember why I got kicked out. Cause the last thing I remember is slamming open that bathroom door. This is also the time I offered the limo driver a blow job. I think I posted about that story once.

3. I never had acne as a teenager. I had the odd pimple, but that was it. Acne freaks me out. And I can tell that Taylor is going to have it and in my annoying mother way I keep harping on it and she just does. not. care. At all.

4. I used to hate the 69 position. With a passion. Because I'm selfish. And I can't concentrate on my own pleasure if I'm concentrating on someone else's.

*Clarification: I don't now love this position, but I no longer hate it. Perhaps it is because of my partner, who is quite understanding of the fact that it is all about me and doesn't complain when I forget about the importance of him in the act. Perhaps its the position we use. I don't know.

5. I have a thing for ear wax. I hate it in ears, and I have to get it out of the ears I see. I use a grip (aka a bobby pin) which I know is a huge no no. But none of my kids are deaf yet and none have had any ear problems due to my over excessive use of things smaller than my elbow.

6. I'm like a man when it comes to sex. When I'm done, I AM DONE and I just want to roll over and go to sleep. I am not a cuddler.

7. I can orgasm without touching myself. I've mentioned this before but thought it was worth mentioning again, since I think there are only like 2 people who read me back then. I have few talents and that's a big one in my books. God, that's sad.

Just a note

You all know by now that I am as slow as sin and disorganized to boot, right?

I have every intention of making all the box albums and altered clipboards. I have already done Joy's box (and may even send it today!) and last night started working on the clipboard for That Chick's daughter. I took a picture yesterday of just why I haven't been able to do any crafting, my desk is an absolute mess and has become home to every lonely piece of paper in the house, along with assorted other things. I am going to get it cleaned up today and will post before and after pictures. Plus you know I blog and stuff. Sometimes I clean house and do laundry. I read, I watch TV, crap like that. Although I did discover yesterday it is super easy to do the clipboards while sititng on the sofa watching TV. Did anyone else see that new show The Riches? Minnie Driver in corn braids (is that what they are called?) and no makeup? Not so pretty. But the show was very good.

So I will get everything done, I'm going to try and do one project a day, and eventually they will make their way to you. I do still need some addresses and desired themes/colours, so if that's you I'm talking about send me an email.

The post about nothing

I have nothing to say, nothing at all. And yet, since I have nothing else to do I am writing drivel. Bear with me.

Yesterday I weighed myself for this May weight loss thing that I had not yet officially signed up for, but had every intent to do so. Until I stepped on the scale. I had gained 1.9 lbs IN A WEEK for a grand total of 9 lbs over the last few months. Holy fucking frightening. I ended up really sick yesterday, and was 3.7lbs lighter today, not just one time, but everytime I weighed myself. See what not eating along with a lot of bathroom time will do for you?

I think I might have a cyst. There is a hardness and I am very uncomfortable and crampy. I'd go to the doctor but do I really want my weight pointed out to me? This is probably why fat people die of horrible things, they avoid the doctor and the whole you are too fat issue until it is far too late and what could have been cured is too far gone.

Yeah, yeah, stop my whinging, you've heard it all before and until I do something about it just tell me to shut up.

William was at work today (unofficially, of course) and one of the guys he was working with felt sick and threw up. Tom, the boss, brought him home. When Tom and William came home two hours later they found out he had had a heart attack. Crazy. I haven't heard back yet how bad it is, I just know that he is in hospital. And not the one down the road that doesn't take any Level 1's.

I think I'm going to go do a meme that Rachel (it won't let me link- WTF?- but there she is in the sidebar as Crazy is as crazy does) had up, this post is entirely too depressing.

Out of the mouth of a babe (literally)

I hear Saoirse go into the washroom, climb on to the toilet, and then onto the counter top.

She is obviously looking into the mirror because this is what I hear:

"Boy, am I cute!"

More pictures

You guys are going to be sooo sick of pictures of my kids! And yeah, I do have 4. You'd just never know it by the camera. Taylor and Liam come off as the occassional visitor. That's what happens as they age I guess. Though Terri proves my theory wrong.


Hanging out in the laundry basket on St. Patrick's Day.


Saoirse loves any excuse to play in the yard, and a warm yet snowy day was the perfect chance to get out.


Sophie's first time playing in the snow. Not that she played and not that she lasted long.


Sophie's grin.


"Back off bitch!" I printed this picture off when I went away on the girls weekend. I came back to the table and there was a yellow post it with that quote over Sophie's head. We joked about a competition over some random baby boy in his swimmer diaper. Though she looks quite pissed off, really she was just terrified because I walked away and left her sitting there. So I could get the picture, not to leave her sitting by the L'il Dolphin pool. This was at the waterpark in the mall.

Cards

A few cards I have made. The frog one is one of my favourites that we have done in my monthly stamping club, all of us thought it was adorable. The frog is made out of oval and circle punches, with half a flower punch for each foot. That card was sent to Catwoman, whose Little Man loves frogs. The bottom card, made the same night, was sent to Julie.

Happy Days! It's a picture post!

For months I have been blaming Kodak for my inability to download pictures, when really the culprit was me. And William. I'm not entirely blameless here. All I had to do was take the USB cord from the no longer working dock and put in the camera.
Let's all shake our heads at my stupidity, shall we? Can you believe I made the blogosphere miss out on the yumminess that is these two girls? At least I think they are yummy.


Saoirse at the park yesterday. I love the static going on there.


Sophie in the tub, working on her Santa beard.


Sharing cookies.


Sophie.


Black and white always makes a dirty face picture more appealing.

The Retreat

Yesterday I spent 6 hours in church. This is a very, very long time for someone as lapsed as myself. And oddly enough, the time did not drag. I did think longingly of the book sitting in my bag, but only once or twice. I enjoyed the time I spent with Taylor on this confirmation retreat. Granted, shopping with someone else's money would have been much better, but this wasn't half bad.

Taylor is due to be confirmed on the 22nd of this month, and this retreat was the second to last step in a loooong process. First, the parents attended two 2 hour sessions and then the children attended another two. The retreat was supposed to be sponsors and the children, but as Taylor's sponsor is her godmother Janine, the gal who just had twins who are still in the ICN , and as sponsors are supposed to be Catholic it fell to me to go. Apparently I know very few Catholics. And the ones I do know- not so keen on hanging out in church for 6 hours.

The retreat was sort of fun. Fun isn't a word I'd ever use to describe church, especially not this parish which is downright boring and extremely right wing somewhat stodgy. But it was good. We played a few games, did a few quizzes and meditated.

And let me tell you- I could use some meditation on a regular basis. I couldn't even tell you what the girl was saying during it because I totally tuned her and everything else out. I even felt all tingly at one point, like I had just let the weight of the world fall off my shoulders. It was fantastic. I felt good for the rest of the day. I didn't even get mad at Liam and his friend Josh who came into the house later that evening covered in mud, and saying that a group of teenage boys pushed them. Little liars. I did get sort of annoyed this morning that they both completely stained their shirts, obviously I needed more meditation. Or medication, perhaps.

After the meditation we went to the church service. That was pretty good because it was the Monseigneur, not the Father whose views are often shouted from the pulpit. If the church doesn't want to perform gay marriage ceremonies that's fine and dandy, but don't ask me to sign a petition stating that the government shouldn't allow it at all. That's not so fine and dandy. Also, 4 o'clock Saturday mass? Not crowded at all. I think it's the way to go really. No getting up early, no far away parking spot, no worries about not getting my favourite pew. Yes, if I actually attended church, it would be on Saturdays.

On Wednesday, Taylor will do Reconciliation and then the Confirmation in a few weeks. I was really hoping that the retired Archbishop would be the one to confirm Taylor as he did mine and I really adored him, but they named a new Archbishop last week and he will be doing it. It would have been nice to have pictures of Taylor and I both with the same man.

And that's me done with Sacrements for at least 5 years now, as Liam refuses to do any and William doesn't want Sophie baptised. But that is a whole other post.

More stuff I'm trying to give away

Ages and ages ago I bought a bunch of clipboards from Staples. I made 4 as year end gifts for teachers (that's one of them, I didn't steal from splitcoast this time) and never did anything else with them again. Until tonight, when I decided to make one as a gift for a 12 year old to put her class picture on. Since, I'm making one, I might as well as make the others, or at least get them started.

Do you want one?

A trip to the ER

Saoirse and Sophie have both had colds since Monday, the third for both since mid- March. Saoirse started getting a bit wheezy yesterday evening and by 12.30 this morning was crying in bed constantly, looking for Daddy (who was right next to her), coughing and hacking, wheezing and sweating. This meant, of course, that William and I were up also. She tossed and turned all night, and we were lucky if any of us got an hour's sleep in total.

This morning she lay on the couch with me, and when she had a glass of milk she immediately threw it up, all over herself and the couch. Poor baby. I tried to give her some medicine and she cried "No way! I don't like it, Mummy!" On and off she slept and wheezes, hacked and coughed. It was something else watching her breathe, I'd never seen a chest move up and down so quickly.

I needed to take her to the doctor, but there was absolutely no one to watch Sophie, so I had to wait until Taylor came home at 12.30. Off we went, and she was so wheezy the whole way over. She went to play while we waited and didn't even have the energy, less than a minute after standing on her own for the first time all day she was in tears.

Into the doctor's we go. Her first question is "Does she have asthma?" I say that the pediatrician's office had said she probably did and then said no, she probably doesn't. She had me take off her shirt and said "That is asthma."

Saoirse was given a little fish mask and received a ventilin treatment. I was told NEVER to let it go so long again and was told to go to the Stoll.ery, which is the children's hospital at the U of A, because she did not respond to the treatment.

I ended up taking her to the Mis, because it is my hospital, where I work and my mum works, and because it is closer to home than the U. My mum tells me that if she is really bad, the Mis will transfer her anyway. By the time we get there she is sounding a lot better, definitely a bit laboured but nowhere near what she has been. The ER is operating at full capacity, so I'm a bit worried that I will have a long wait. She is assessed by the nurse, RT is called and she is put into a resus room before she is even admitted. He triaged her as a 2, so I think that helped. If she had been a 3 we probably wouldn't have been seen for ages.

Her oxygen is at 94% so they put her on ventilin treatments with the oxygen at 5. She had 3 ventilin treatments over an hour and a half, and one dose of predisolone. We were given an inhaler for her and a couple of prescriptions. We were seen and out in 2 hours. Yay, Mis! Very impressive!

She's better tonight, still laboured, but so tired from the lack of sleep last night, that she was down for the count just after 8. Here's hoping she sleeps through the night and that it rains early enough tomorrow that William gets the day off. If he gets the day off, I have lunch plans with 2 friends. One can always hope.

The box album

So since a couple of people asked what box albums are andsince I can't upload pictures because either Kodak Easy Share or I am complete and total losers I stole a picture of one from splitcoaststampers. Which I think is a big no no. But who's going to tell really? And should some splitcoast person wander over here, I'm sorry I really am. Apparently they are actually called explosion boxes, which sounds way better.



So this is 3 pieces of paper, 2 12X12 and one 81/2X11, cut and scored into cross like shapes and then glued together in the centre. You would then place your picturesinside. The lid is just another 81/2X11 piece of paper cut to size.

What I'll do for those of you who want one is theme it how you'd like (Christmas, girl, etc.), assemble it flat and sent it on its way. All you'll have to do is stick the brads in to assemble the lid and cut your pictures.

Don't expect yours to be so fancy. Beyond my talents!

Finally!

It may take me ages but eventually I do get things done. Today, I finally got around to sorting out the cards and mailing them out. They went out to 13 people and I there were a few others who said they would like some but never sent their addresses.(It's never too late!) I couldn't find my camera so I have to ask that someone take a picture of the blue friend card and email it to me. That is the one card that everyone got, and is one of my favourites that I have come up with on my own. Okay, stolen from the winter mini catalogue, but slightly modified. Of course, as soon as I got home from the post office what did I see but my freaking camera. Typical.

Oh, and those bubble envelopes are a tight fit and I am somewhat skimpy with the tape runner, so a few pieces may or may not fall off. Hopefully, it will be easy to figure out where they are supposed to go.

Many thanks to Frannie, Angie, Alissa, CPA Mom, Julie, Emily, Debbie, Beccy, Catwoman, Sam, Rachel, scrapbooking princess and Terri for saying they'd like a few cards. And in advance, thanks for not making fun of my sometimes tipsy attempts at card making.

I think my next harrass-you-to-let-me-send-you-something project is going to be box albums. Because they are easy peasy. So let me know if you want one.

Speaking of mailing things out, Frannie has come up with a fantastic idea for a secret swap spectacular. Leave her a comment and she will give you the address of someone to send something to - it doesn't have to be crafty, it can be something from where you live, or whatever. I think it's a great idea and i am so excited about it. There's nothing I love more than mail that doesn't tell me I owe money.

Why 2 year olds should never join you in the bathroom

Today I was sitting on the toilet (I know! You were dying for that kind of info about me!) and Saoirse walked in. She looks down at my underwear, where there just happens to be a pad (again, I know!!) and this is what she says:

"EWWWW...that is nasty!"

I was unaware that I had a second daughter on the throes of teenagedom. Never one to back down from an opportunity to talk about the joys of all things womanly I say "It's just blood."

"Blood?"

"Yes. Sort of like when you scraped your leg skateboarding." That was her most recent bleeding injury, and one soon not to be forgotten apparently, since I now have to hold her hand whenever she gets on the skateboard. "When you are a teenager it will happen to you too, once a month."

"Blood? Once a month?"

"Yep. Lucky aren't you?"

And of course this adventure in bathroom breaks reminded me of when she wandered in while William was drying off after a shower and pointing at his boy most manly of parts said "Oh Daddy, look at your poop!"

It's a lucky thing that I have never related penises to poop, because really? Had I, one of those things never would have made it anywhere near my lips.

The Way Starbucks* Sees It

Every once in awhile the very talented With Love, Fat Girl quotes her Starbucks cups. I am so unaware of the world around me that I didn't even realize Starbucks had writing on their cups until I started reading her. And even then I still didn't read my cup. Today I was on my way to Taylor's first soccer game (a 5-0 loss) and I just happened to glance down at my large cup of Awake tea with lots of cream, which really seemed to disturb the Starbucks chicky.

And this is what it said:

The Way I See It #175

The world would be a boring place if everyone wore a size 2. I love being a size 22, just like I love a giant cup of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. F.A.T (Fabulous and Thick) folks know that it's the extras in life- like pounds, cash and love- that give us character. Embrace the extras, baby.

It wasn't until I removed the sleeve once I was home that I saw who the author was, the comedienne Mo'Nique. And then there is this disclaimer "This is the author's opinion, not necessarily that of Starbucks."

Which means what? That Starbucks is not willing to admit that drinking hot chocolate with extra whipping cream is quite likely to help you pack on the pounds? That being fat does not add character?

I'm not a size 22- yet, but keep gaining 8 lbs a month and I might be- and I'm certainly never going to be a size 2, and nor would I want to be. I do wish I had the ability to embrace my reality- I am never going to be a skinny girl. Instead every time I look at myself in the mirror I say "Who the fagoozy are you? When did you get so FAT?" Because in my head, I'm still okay. Not fat, not thin. Just right. It's just that when I see myself that I get a bit of a shock. It's when my Granny says to me "You're such a pretty girl, but you really need to lose some weight", or when two men call me a fat pig for defending some man and that man does not defend me back, or when some guy who is not thin himself calls me a fat bitch for telling his son that he better leave my child alone or else (okay maybe I deserved that one) that I realize that not only am I fat, but that other people see it too.

And while I liked this quote I don't completely agree with it. I don't believe being fat adds character. I think it takes away from who you are, all the while defining who you are, if that makes any sense at all. I think that in general most fat people are very self depreciating- you have to make fun of yourself before someone does it for you. So while I want to embrace my reality I don't want to embrace that fat a reality.

I wouldn't mind embracing some extra cash though.

Tradesies anyone? My fat for your moola?