Yes, my friends, it is yet another meme...

...and it's not like I have nothing to post about...there was the awards night fiasco where they forgot to call up Taylor to receive her honours award...there's the Catholic Archdiocese telling people not to go see Bodyworlds and telling parents that they shouldn't give their daughters the HPV immunizations...none of the church's business what I and my daughter decide to do for her health...believe me if we decide to go ahead with this shot (after much research) it will not be a free pass for her to have sex at the age of 14.

But I don't feel like writing about any of that, so from the lovely CPA Mom I enlighten you with the

ME from A to Z. That would be zed, not zee.

A is for age: 34

B is for beer of choice: Oh, beer. Yuck. Not only does it taste and smell absolutely disgusting but it tends to make me throw up. When I was 17 I threw up at a table in a bar in front of the guy I totally had a thing for. Needless to say, he and I? Nothing.

C is for career right now: Career? What's that? Am seriously considering going back to school for Social Work though.

D is for your dog’s name: No puppy currently; but as a child had two dogs, Toby and Brittany.

E is for essential item you use everyday: Toothpaste.

F is for favorite TV show at the moment: Remember when there used to be only repeats in the summer? I am loving Swingtown, Last Comic Standing and the Mole. I think I may even watch Canadian Idol this year.

G is for favorite game: TV Scene It. Obviously I watch way too much TV so I totally rock at the game. And I am super competitive too.

H is for Home town: Birmingham, England. I know I should say Edmonton, I know I should.

I is for instruments you play: Do sex toys count? No? None then. No talent in these fingers.

J is for favorite juice: strawberry banana. Though I would choose clamato juice with a little vodka over plain old juice.

K is for whose butt you’d like to kick: Oh, let's not talk about it.

L is for last place you ate out at: Opa! (a Greek fast food place at the mall) For a proper sit down restaurant it would have been Red Robin. A disaster with Sophie and her father duking it out.

M is for marriage: Married but not to William. I know. Scandalous.

N is for your full name: Emma Jayne McD.... ...it's on this page somewhere.

O is for overnight hospital stays: A D&C at 17, baby at 21 and 22, baby at 30 and 32

P is for people you were with yesterday: Hmmm...Wednesday...what did I do? Hung out with the girls...Liam was at camp...William when he came home from work...awards fiasco at school, which I went to with Taylor and my friend Michelle and her son Connor...drinks at Second Cup with them afterwards.

Q is for quote: "Youth fades; love droops, the leaves of friendship fall; a mother's secret hope outlives them all." -Oliver Wendell Holmes
"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to change the world."- Anne Frank.

R is for Biggest Regret: Well, as you may know I like to say I have no regrets because every possible regret is a lesson learned. However, I wish I had gone to university or college.

S is for status: Mother.

T is for time you woke up today: 6.45 the first time and since I hadn't gone to bed until 4 I made the girls watch TV in my room and we all fell back asleep. Got up at 9 to wake Taylor up to go to school where they walked over to the church for theit year end celebration.

V is for vegetable that you love: Eggplant, cucumber, red pepper, scallions, zucchini

W is for worst habit: biting nails.

X is for x-rays you’ve had: one I think. Chipped elbow at the age of 10.

Y is for food you ate today: hamburger at the pool party today, just had a rice krispie square, so much for not eating after 8.

Z is for Zodiac sign: Saggitarius. The best sign ever. Did you know we are prone to sciatica? And that our day of the week is Thursday, a day on which my 3 youngest children were born? And that we don't like cleaning? Glad I can blame it on something.

Too many with 16.

A random photo post. Random in that all the pictures have a jpg with the number 16 in it. Why 16? It's my favourite number. My birthday is 16/12, my favourite hockey player of all time (one Kell.y Buchbe.rger- I don't want any random stalkers of his to land here as oddly enough our children attend the same school. Weird hey? I mean I was mad about him when I was 13 and attending that very same school) was number 16. Oh, and I lost my virginity on the 16th of July. Or the 7th. I'm not really sure about that one. It took a few tries before it worked.


In no particular order, these are from July '05 to this month.

Levi from Liam's soccer team. This was taken seconds before he was kicked in the head and went down.


Saoirse in the ball crawl at a local play place. Called Play Place actually.


Sophie with reindeer ears on.


Sophie, who likes to lie in chairs rather than sit.


"Mmmm...nanas!"


Mini train at the International Children's Festival.


Sophie at her first birthday nonparty. Look, she even looks pissed off that no one was there.


Sophie trying to open a pckage of fruit snacks. Yes, I do allow my one year old to play with plastic wrappers.


Saoirse decided to have a birthday party for me, a little early but that's okay. She and Taylor made papercup party hats and sang happy birthday to me.


Saoirse hanging out under the not yet decorated Christmas tree.



My table at Goldeye. I had 2 to myself actually. That's the benefit to arriving early.


Taylor and our neighbour Thomas running after the horse drawn sleigh at our neighbourhood winter carnival. Yes, we really do do stuff like that.


Sophie playing in the princess castle.



Taylor's confirmation. She is third from the left. Right behind her is the former Archbishop. He also confirmed me. 22 years before, not that day. Obviously.



Sophie kissing Daddy. Why yes, that is my vacuum in the middle of the floor.


I absolutely loved this house on Stanley Street in Nelson (BC). It is 19th century and I dream about what the inside would be like to this day. This is the house I would love to have.


Saoirse sleeping on the sofa.


a newborn Sophie.


Sophie at about 6 weeks.


Saoirse's 2nd birthday. Blowing up balloons.


Daddy feeding Sophie. Jeesh, those parents who let their babies fall asleep with a bottle in their mouths. I actually forgot that she would take the odd bottle until I saw this picture.


The wave pool at the water park in the mall. Aug'05. That would be a very skinny Liam hanging on to William's back.


The Christmas tree. Dec 05.


Saoirse, hidden amongst the stuffed animals.


Taylor's friends Marissa and Ashley doing karoke at Taylor's 11th birthday.


Friends of Liam's at his 10th birthday. No Liam of course.

Who told Liam he was allowed to grow up?

For almost 9 years Liam was my baby. He still is, he just doesn't know it. Nor would he want to be thought of as a momma's boy. But no matter what he will always be my only baby boy.

Tonight my baby boy had a Grade 6 farewell at his school. Next year, they are off to Grade 7 and the world of junior high with all that that entails...soccer teams, options and a bus ride to the other side of the city. (Apparently, I'm still not over that.)

The majority of his friends from his Academic Support class will go to the same school as Liam next year as they continue on with this program. Only one of his friends is moving into the regular program and I know Liam will miss him, but I hope they will see each other out of school.

The school had a farewell dinner and a small ceremony for them in which they received a fancy dancy pen (not really) and a cross on a silver stone. There was a slideshow of pictures and I hinted to another mother that perhaps the students should each receive a copy. She suggested it to one of the teachers who said yes, they could do that. It never hurts to ask. Or to get someone else to do it for you.

I'm not sure what has happened over the course of this school year. In September he could still fit into a size 8 pair of jeans. By Christmas size 10 no longer fit. This week I noticed that all the brand new size 12s he has are almost at his ankle. Damnation. The child is growing faster than we are making money. He's still quite skinny, so thankfully we can get away with size 10 shorts this summer! He is coming along with his reading and is still the top Grade 6 math student, even amongst the kids in the regular program. His confidence this spring has been amazing. He is a great big brother. Now, if I could just get him to keep his room clean for more than a day I would declare him the world's most perfect 12 year old boy.


Liam, with 2 of his classmates, Sasha and Josef. Joey is the one going to a different school next year.


We were asked to provide the school with a baby picture, a picture from kindergarten and their Grade 6 picture. They made this photo out of them. If you click on this photo you can see what a cutie he was as a baby.


This is a picture from the slideshow. Minus the little circle of dirt on his face, he looks quite handsome here, I think.


Liam and his teacher. I had really hoped to get a better picture, but damn it if one the dads didn't keep her talking after the event.


Josh, Joey and Liam outside the school. Now that he is no longer going to be there, I am not bothered about posting a picture with the school name on it. Feel free to stalk away, stalkery types.

Tomorrow is Liam's last day of classes. Wednesday morning the Grade 6 classes go camping (where they will canoe, rock climb, zipline and learn archery) and they arrive back at noon on Thursday which is the official dismissal for summer holidays.

Oh, summer holidays...how fondly I remember those days of sleeping in, hanging with friends all day, riding bikes and discovering new places or even just lazing about. Those really were the days. Must remind my children of that when they start complaining about being bored!

Politically Incorrect? *EDITED* *AND AGAIN!*

At the risk of offending people and coming across as sounding like a complete and total eejit I am going to ask this question:

Do you say African American or black? Or do you have another term entirely?

In Canada we hear African American from the American news (of which we are inundated with, even before the advent of cable TV) and, in our very indecisive Canadian way, a variety of different terms from the Canadian media- black, Caribbean, Jamaican, (insert any country with a majority black population). I do not think I have ever heard "African Canadian" and occasionally have heard African American.

I was reading an article in the the paper the other day about a school that has opened in the city for high achieving black students and I wondered if black was a term that would offend Americans?

And then today, I was reading my novel, Motherland, which takes place in England. The main character is accused of being a racist partially for referring to someone as "black" rather than "Afro Caribbean".

Is she? I don't think so. But do you? Inquiring minds want to know. Well, I do anyway.

*Edited to add... I guess I should have said what I say, which is black. However, in my very politically correct way, I am always worried that I am offending someone. Like Ms. Porter I don't use African American because a) being in Canada it highly unlikely that they are American and b)there's a pretty good chance they aren't African either. I believe the majority of black people in Canada are actually of some Caribbean descent (I've mentioned in the this blog before that Toronto has the largest Jamaican population in the world outside of Jamaica itself...even Edmonton with its rather small black population (3.1%) has an annual Cariwest festival) but I haven't heard Afro-Caribbean used here.

It's the same with what do you call someone who is native? I grew up with Indian, which is apparently quite taboo these days. We don't say Native American in Canada and First Nations sounds odd to me to use as a descriptive term. So I say native, but again I always wonder if I am wrong.

William thinks I am too politically correct, that I need to stop worrying that I am offending someone, that I shouldn't correct my 22 month old when she says "PAKI-stan" instead of a more smooth, less enunciated "pak-is-tan."

Why does Sophie even need to know how to say Pakistan (or Afghanistan, or Australia, or even Canada) at this age? I don't know.

** Edit...I wonder if the anonymous who uses that word is also the same anonymous who figured I had a thing for my son. Small minds and all that. My firt instinct was to delete that comment. But maybe it's good to know there are still complete morons in this world?

An open letter to "anonymous"

Hello Anonymous,

I believe that if you are going to call someone out and maybe even accuse them of being an incestuous pervert that perhaps you should do it without the veil of anonymity. Because honestly? It makes you look like an eejit.

If you are someone who regularly comments on my blog (which I am pretty sure you are not) than you should know me well enough to say "What the fuck did I just read?" You would then perhaps have reread the statement and realized that you read it wrong.

Even if you have never commented on my blog, you still shouldn't hide who you are. It is just plain wrong. You can't leave a negative comment and hide who you are at the same time.

Please take the time, anon, to reread this statement in its entirety:

"I must get a picture of his coach to show you all, I think he is adorable and if I were 18 I would totally have a thing for him."

In that statement his would be referring to Liam, my son. Coach would be referring to my son's coach. Ergo, what I actually was saying was "I must get a picture of my son's coach, I think my son's coach is adorable and if I were 18 I would totally have a thing for my son's coach. "

Do you see that Anonymous? I think MY SON'S COACH is cute. Granted, he is a good 10 years younger than me, but I am quite sure it is not illegal to think someone over 18 is cute. But even so, what I said was "..if I were 18 I would have a thing for him." However, I am not 18 and I do not have a thing for him, I simply think he is adorable.

This is what you said to me, Anonymous:

"I think he is adorable and if I were 18 I would totally have a thing for him.


your talking about your son?
your SICK!"

Please take a moment and look that over. See a mistake? One that was made twice? The incorrect usage of the words your and you're drive me crazy. Please learn how to read and how to use proper wording before commenting on my blog again.

Thank you Anonymous. I would really appreciate it.

Sincerly,
Emma (who totally does not have a thing for her 12 year old son, not even if I were 18...which would actually make it impossible for me to be his mother. Please add addition to skills required before commenting here again, Anon. I was not birthing 9lb 9oz children at the age of 6.)

Once a week posting

It seems I have become a blogger who rarely posts. Once again, the bloggy mojo has fallen by the wayside. There's so much going on here, but I just can't bring myself to write a long, dull post about it. Even my twittering and facebook updates have slowed down. I used to update facebook faithfully but I could really care less this days.

Such a bad attitude...

Anyhoo, this is a run down of what has been going on. Oh, so exciting.

I have been sick for 35 days. Shutup Alissa! 26 of those days have been with bronchitis and I have never been so freaking miserable in my life. I've missed the last 4 weekends at work and they are not very pleased. Do they seriously want me to compromise the health of the sick and elderly? Of course, that's not why I'm hesitant to go back, I am freaked that I am going to have a coughing fit and pee myself.

Oh yes! I am suffering from stress incontinence. Poise pads and I are best friends. And when I ran out of poise pads? I was forced to steal a nappy from Sophie. Look at that, 34 years old and back in nappies. Bloody humiliating. I thought it would be done by now but no such luck. The first round of meds didn't work plus they gave me hives. I had just read an article on how bad bed bugs are in Edmonton and, in a fit of paranoia, was convinced we had them. It didn't matter that William and the girls didn't have them, I was sure. Vacuumed the mattress, scrubbed my walls, washed the blankets all while coughing and peeing and scratching the marks. Went to the doctor who informed me that they were hives. Well, at least my bed is really clean now. Oh, and he also informed that I have shingles. Yes, lucky me. Along with the coughing induced pulled muscles, cracked rib, peeing AND throwing up I am a total pleasure to be around.

William and I are finally in counselling. It is going well, I can even agree with his statement that I am selfish. It is quite true, but who knew I was using it as a defense mechanism from childhood? Boy, those psychologists can dig! (Which reminds me for those of you who wanted to know if I prefer giving or receiving your answer is there in the word selfish! Of course, I think I give more than I receive but I am sure he would differ. Sorry for the TMI, for those who didn't want to know!)

The kids are all doing well. Taylor is 13. What can I say? I'm a little pissed off that I took her out for summer clothes, spent $250 on her ($100 of that on ONE lululemon jacket) and have not yet heard the words "Thank you." She really needs to take some lessons from Sophie, who says thank you to absolutely everything. Can I for once find something positive to say about my oldest child? Yes, she went to camp this weekend and the house was very quiet. Only joking! She finally cleaned her room. And it looks looked lovely. It's Taylor, people, of course it's getting messy again. Oh, and she won the spirit award at school. Not quite sure what it is, something to do with being well behaved and working hard. And hey, as long as she behaves at school than I am pretty happy.

Liam is very exciting about almost finishing Grade 6 and moving on to junior high. The Grade 6 classes at his school go camping at the end of the school year, so he is looking forward to that as well. He is playing soccer again this year and is finally getting to play in goal, his favourite position. He has had an amazing season, his best ever. His team made it to the top tier for this final round. I must get a picture of his coach to show you all, I think he is adorable and if I were 18 I would totally have a thing for him.

Saoirse is also playing soccer, well she is more walking on the field, occasionally kicking the ball. But she too loves soccer. She is compltely recovered from the hospital stay, and has had no problems since. Playschool finshes up next Thursday. Not sure what she thinks about that, she loves going to school and hated missing it when she was in the hospital.

Sophie will be 2 in 2 months. She is so freaking smart. She repeats everything we say. You should hear her say 'Afghanistan'. So cute. I love some of what she is saying "Pash, pash" (pass...used for everything from a ball to food to more food..have I ever said how she loves to eat?), "I be back in a minute, okay?", "I carry you! I carry you!" (Obviously this is supposed to be 'You carry me' and we laugh everytime she says it. If you've seen me or heard me whinge about my weight, you know that William isn't going to be carrying me anywhere, never mind my toddler.)She loves swings at the park, cuddling with Daddy, helping me with the laundry ("I help you?") and climbing up the cupboards to stand on the counter and get into the snack cupboard. Of course, then she has to yell "I need down!" I am trying to get her out of climbing up them, one day she is going to fall and smash her head. Would you give a time out for that? I've never had this issue before. Sophie is a whole new ballgame.

And here is why I no longer post all the time...it takes so freaking long to write one simple post and here it is 12.30 am and I've a mess of scrapbooking on the table that I'm not going to be arsed to clean. Off to bed!

A meme about me, but of course.

I saw this on both Suburban Mum's and Mum of 4's sites and since I am not able (able? more like is too lazy) to do a proper post I am expecting you to totally enjoy reading yet another meme from moi.


My ex is a friend on facebook. (That would be the teenage ex, not the ex husband.) But I never called him by the first name he is using on there. And never would have, it used to drive me crazy when people called him that.

Maybe I should stop eating Doritos Collisions at midnight if I ever want to lose weight.

I love Doritos Collisions. Just trying to be witty, without success I am sure. I love books. And my kids. And William. And oral sex.

People would say that I am bloody fantastic. They wouldn't really. Um...some would say I yell too much. Judgemental fucks.

I don't understand how Alberta's premier and his cabinet ministers can justify a 34% raise, of which a third is tax free, when the average joe's raise doesn't even come close to covering the increase in the cost of living. That's if you get a raise, which my union has not yet managed to get us.

When I wake up in the morning it is rarely of my own free will. It's an alarm clock or children.

I lost my cell phone. Months ago, and Taylor just told me that she was playing with it and broke it. She said she would give me hers, but I would rather have Liam's newer and better one. Why couldn't he have messed about with my phone?

Life is full of questions.

My past is my past. Though sometimes I wonder.

I get annoyed easily. My bad.

Parties are dreaded. Am too shy for large crowds.

I wish that I was in England. Must stop reading books about England. Must remind myself that 21st century England is not 1940s England. Course, its not 1980s England either, which is defo a plus.

Dogs shit in your back yard. And scare Saoirse.

Cats shit in your house. I have enough people shitting in my house without adding to it, thanks.

Tomorrow I am going to the doctor to get a sick note for the past 3 weekends and possily the weekend upcoming. And an inhaler, since I am still coughing so hard I am throwing up. Lovely.

I have a low tolerance for bigotry. Like Suburban Mum I was going to say pain, but really? My tolerance is not just low, it is practically non existent. At the hospital when they ask what it is out of 10 I say negative 3.

If I had a miion dollars I would buy a house. Oh, there's goes $500,000 for a new house with 3 bedrooms and an unfisnished basement. Throw in finishing the basement so child 1 and 2 have rooms and furnish said house and that money would be pretty much gone. No feeding starving children here.

I am totally terrified of being stabbed. Unreasonable? Totally, but I would really hate to die that way. All potential murderers should be aware that I would prefer to be shot. (Not normally what I would have went with, but last week some man stabbed to death his tenant, wife, and 2 of his 3 young daughters. It seems almost every death I read about is knife related. Gives me the heebie jeebies.)

Crazy. Crazy, I say.

I popped over to Suburban Mum tonight and came across a personality test. I rather love personality and IQ tests and games of Scramble so thought I might as well as take this test. After all, how bad could it be? I'm a nice girl, smart(ish) and pretty down to earth. Not such a bad person at all. So I thought.

Big Five Test Results

Extroversion (26%) low which suggests you are very reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and private. Accommodation (56%) moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly kind natured, trusting, and helpful at the expense of your own individual development (martyr complex). Orderliness (46%) medium which suggests you are moderately organized, structured, and self controlled while still remaining flexible, varied, and fun. Emotional Stability (50%) medium which suggests you average somewhere in between being calm and resilient and being anxious and reactive. Inquisitiveness (20%) low which suggests you are overly small minded, traditional, and conventional at the expense too often of intellectual curiousity, possibility, and progress.

Take Free Big Five Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

I am not a reclusive! Yes, I am quiet and sometimes too unassertive, but reclusive? I mean, it's not like I live in a house with 9 cats and have no friends. I'm not particularly private either, I will tell anyone and their dog about issues that should be private, such as the ins and outs of my sex life.

Moderately organized? Obviously the quiz makers have not seen the pictures of my kids rooms.

I thought I would score much lower on emotional stability, but shocked myself with a dead even 50%. On reflection, this is quite accurate and I think much more frightening that being at either extreme. I mean, my kids never know if I am going to be nice and calm or fly off the wall and threaten their very lives. (Not really people. Calm down. Well, maybe once or twice. You know, the old "I could beat/kill/murder you for that!" Don't tell me if you are the perfect parent who has never had words of that sort cross their lips. I bet you've thought, but are just too emotionally stable to say it out loud.)

Trusting? More like freaking gulliable. And everytime I hear the word gulliable I am reminded of 2 British soldiers that totally had me on and made a fool of me. Bastards. And a martyr? Not so much, though perhaps I act that way on the blog with all my "I did this and this and this and didn't get so much as a thank you." Yeah, maybe that's sort of right.

I am completely and totally offended at being called small minded. I don't think I am small minded at all, I'm a Liberal for godsakes. That doesn't mean I am saying Conservatives are small minded, so don't get your knickers in a knot Stephen Harper/George Bush/David Cameron supporters. And traditional at the expense of progress? Excuse me?! So, so wrong. Sooooo wrong. I think I scored low because I answered not accurate in the questions that applied to theoretical physics. People!It said physics! Of course, I ran in the other direction. I am not of a scientific mind at all but that doesn't mean I can't form progressive opinions.

Other than that last one and the organization one this test was apparently pretty close to reality, even though I never would have said that stuff about myself. Except for the being too trusting.

Oh! I have to say that one of the statements was "I love large parties." I read it as "I love large penises." Not once, but twice. I think I have a penis obsession. I am fascinated by them. And just so you know I would have been right in the middle on that one. Having seen gigantic ones and almost miniscule ones and all the sizes in between I am of the opinion that size does not matter at all. It's all in how you use it. Both of you.

And that's all Dr. Emma, sex therapist, has to say about that.

Emma's invisible laminated list of doable celebrities

After my last post I realized you were all dying to know what celebrities were lucky enough to be on my laminated (and ever changing, depending on what I am watching or listening to) list of who I am allowed to sleep with should the opportunity ever arise. (And, as previously discussed, I am not delusional, I do realize that the opportunity shall never present itself. And I am quite alright with that. One just likes to imagine.)

This list contains only actors and musicians, I would need a whole other list to include the hockey and soccer players I would love to, well, love. For a night anyway. There may even be one curler on that list. A Scottish one who would yell "Hurry hard!" He may even say "Hurry hard hen." Hehe. I love the Scots.



1. Jonny Lee Miller. I can forgive the fact that he is a Chelsea supporter and that he was once married to Angelina Jolie, I can even forgive his London accent. As long as he talks in his American Eli Stone accent, I would be more than pleased to spend a night with him. Though I'm a little concerned about the comb over. Have I said how much I love Eli Stone? It is one of the few shows that William and I actually both like. The others? Coronation Street and Amazing Race. That boy watchs too much sci fi for my liking. Anyway, Eli Stone...love it! And Jonny Lee Miller as Eli Stone...love him! Actually, I think I would much rather sleep with the character than the actor.



2. Johnny Reid. If you're not a fan of country music chances are you have never heard of Johnny Reid. He's originally from Glasgow and his accent makes me melt. As I said, I love a Scottish man.



3. Kyle Secor. Best known for his role as Det. Tim Bayliss on Homicide. I started watching Homicide when I was pregnant with Liam way back when (1996) when Law and Order did a crossover show. How did I ever miss the first 2 seasons? Such a fantastic series. My only issue with Kyle Secor is that he was born in 1957, which well exceeds my "You cannot sleep with anyone more than 10 years older than yourself" rule. Oh, I suppose I can let that rule go for just one night. Or two, should he happen to love really, really curvy girls.



4. Kyle Chandler. Ah, Kyle Chandler. In Homefront (once again, my all time favourite show...oh how I miss it!), he played the younger brother of David Newsome, who I mentioned as quite doable in the previous post. He was then in Early Edition and I am now watching him in Friday Night Lights. Even some 17 years later, he is still sexy.



5. Sam Roberts. You might not have heard of him if you don't follow Canadian artists. I highly recommend you download Brother Down, as well as the new single "Them Kids". I love his scruffy, sexy look. Yum. And the lyrics in his songs? Amazing.



6. Colin Farrell. Though I love scruffy on Sam Roberts, I do not like it Colin Farrell. I'm okay with a bit of stubble, but the hair must be short. I think he looks absolutely horrid with his hair long. Even that Dublin accent wouldn't make me sleep with him if he had longish hair. I bet he's fantastic in bed. And that accent can only make it all the better. Irish men really have an advantage, methinks. (I speak from experience here, of course.)


7. George Stroumboulopoulos. There's a mouthful hey? And if I were a diry sort of girl I would say "I bet there's a mouthful elsewhere on him." but luckily I am not a dirty sort of girl. Again, you are not likely to have heard of him if you are outside of Canada's borders. We like to keep the good ones to ourselves you know? He used to be a Much Music VJ, but now he is the witty host of The Hour. Should I ever go to Toronto I am most definitely going to see his show.



8. James Marsden. I don't think he would normally pop up on my list, but I just watched him in 27 Dresses this weekend. There is just something so sweet looking about him. I remember watching him in Second Noah oh so many years ago. Before I had kids anyway.




9. James Blunt. I am almost embarrassed by my unreasonable crush on James Blunt. I mean, he is so skinny and he is not really all that to look at. His upper class accent drives me absolutely mad, in the not good way. But I just adore him. I've said before that as long as he doesn't open his mouth to talk I would be more than pleased to spend a night with him. No sleep required.



10 and 11. Neil Patrick Harris and Jason Segel. A twofer. And yes, I know that Neil Patrick Harris is gay. I don't care! This is MY invisible laminated list and if I want to try and turn a gay man straight than more power to me. Blond men aren't normally my thing but I do love him. I probably even had a small crush on him as Doogie Howser, it's had to keep track of all my teenage fantasies (River Phoenix, Corey Haim, C. Thomas Howell, Corey Hart...there were so many.) As for Jason Segel, I have liked him ever since Freaks and Geeks was on for it's one lone season. Watching the two of them together in How I Met Your Mother is just a little slice of heaven. I can take or leave Ted, but Barney and Marshall? I would gladly have a threesome with the two of them.

And there you are. Which of these fine fellows would you spend the night with? Or do you think my taste is totally out there? Enlighten me with yours if you so desire. Just be sure to let me know, you know how shitty I am getting to blogs these days.

Ten Things I Thought Today. *EDITED...just for SM.

I was tagged by the lovely Suburban Mum for this meme, and since easy is the name of the game these days I am going to absolutely enlighten you with ten thoughts I have had today. Which might be about all I've had today, actually. Or plan on having.

1. (at 5.30am) Why is the phone ringing? Why won't I stop coughing?

2. (at 6.10 am) I might as well as get up. Too early to clean...may as well as twitter.

3. Why is everyone on my blogroll not twittering? These people are crazy. How do they expect me to keep up with their lives? Am I suppose to actually read their blogs?

4. I would so do him. (Looking at a picture of David Newsome, who should probably be on my *laminated list of who I am allowed to sleep with, should the opportunity arise.)


(I was going to delete the second picture, but really he is so scrumptious he should be on here twice, if not more. And did I mention he is from my all time favourite show, Homefront? He is.)

5. Sigh. I should probably go do laundry or something.

6. No, no. Let's read instead. (Ben Wicks...have you read him? If not run to your nearest used bookshop and see if you can find some of his books. Highly recommend all ones dealing with Britain during WWII...child evacuees, war brides, soldiers coming back home...fantastic, heartbreaking reading especially as you realize so many of these people you are reading about are elderly or have passed on. It makes me with my nan was still alive so I could write down every story as she was telling it.)

7. Here comes Sophie. Saoirse won't be far behind.

8. (9am) So tired. Do you think I can go back to bed?

9. (10.30) Damn, I've left it to late for a shower. Hopefully I don't smell.

10. Shite. Look at my hair. I should just shave it off.

And, I'm going one over here....11. God, this is killing me. I hope I don't pee myself every time I cough.

*I don't really have a laminted list of celebrities I am allowed to sleep with. I mean, I might if I were thin and pretty and lived in Los Angeles or London. But, alas, I am fat and plain and live in Edmonton. And who can you sleep with in Edmonton? Hockey players. But it's the off season. Oh, and I am not thin and pretty. So, no, there is no laminated list. I just refer to it as such. And I was actually going to do a post about the imaginary list last weekend. But I didn't. Cause that would have meant looking up pics and linking and actually putting in some work to the blog. And, people, these days... that is beyond my abilities.

A post about suicidal thoughts...not a fun one at all.

My daughter, the oldest of my 4 children, told William she has been having suicidal thoughts for the last month.

I know. That's what I said too.

I'm not sure how to take this. I know that she has been having a very hard time lately. Her dad is very ill, she and I have been clashing constantly, she is going downhill in school. We won't even talk about the dreaded IB project, which ended up as a huge bone of contention.

My first thought was that this was a cry for attention. As a teenager, with 2 much younger sisters and a brother with learning disabilites, it appears as though she comes last on the list of "Kids who need our attention." And yet, the reality is that as a teenager, she probably needs it more than ever.

I have always said that Taylor appears depressed to me, from the time she was about four. My family doctor at the time just brushed it off with his infamous quote of "It's a parenting issue." I fully admit to not being the perfect mother, far from it actually. But surely I am not such an awful mother that I would lead a child to suicide?

She said this to William last night, after we did our hospital trade off and he came home. Before I had left, I had asked her and Liam to do a bit of cleaning...Liam was to do the few dishes in the sink and sweep, Taylor was to vacuum and take out the garbage and recycling. As I was getting ready to go out she sat down at the computer. Now, the computer has become a HUGE issue. She gets on it the moment she walks in the door and is on it off and on throughout the night. You ask her to get off, and it takes her forever. So, she sat at the computer and I said "No way!" and went to grab it. I picked it up and she freaked. "You can't take it! I bought it!" Yes, she did buy it. But this is my house, and my rules override her ownership of the things inside it. She was trying to grab it off of me and I was trying to get out the door. She ended up yelling "I'm not going to do anything! I'm just staying upstairs!" and ran up the stairs crying. My friend was standing there during all this and I said to her afterwards that I thought Taylor was about to hit me. She had thought the same.

William ended up taking the computer back home with him, but didn't let her use it. He said that he was quite upset with them when he got in, for other than the dishes nothing was done. This is when she said it to him.

Which made me say "Is she using this to get out of doing things?"

I thought this even more when this afternoon I had to ask her twice to get off the computer to spend 10 minutes cleaning her room. The third time I said "Are you ever going to go do your room?" it was because I could see her shadow as she was dancing in the kitchen. She got upset, said "This is why I feel the way I do!" and started running up the stairs. I said "What do you mean by that?" And she said "If William didn't tell you I am not going to!"

So, I'm sorry, but she wants to kill herself because I require that she accept some responsibility as a member of this family and actually spend 10 minutes cleaning? She wants to kill herself because for years I have let her get away with doing absolutely fucking nothing and now that she is required to help out she doesn't want to? She is using suicidial thoughts as an excuse to get out of household chores?

And in my head I know that this can not be so. I know that there has to be way more going on with her. And yet a part of me wonders, is she really that manipulative of a child? I don't know. I really don't know.

I thought that things would be so much easier once she turned 13. I remember my teen years like they were yesterday and so I thought that I would be much more understanding of her. But guess what? The teenage Taylor is not the same as teenage Emma. I never would have talked back to my mum (at 34 I still don't talk back to my mum, I just bitch after I get off the phone), I never had the smarts she has, or the confidence she exudes. And yet, she must be sad. And I was a sad teenager. I had thoughts of suicide, but even at 14, I could tell you they were only for attention only ("Wouldn't so and so feel awful if I killed myself?") and that I would have no idea what sort of attention my death received if I was actually dead.

I'm calling for counselling tomorrow for her, not for the first time. Previously, I was told I needed a notarized letter of permission from her father. Well, waiting for him to get it together and do that was a long wait. I don't think he even understood what I was asking of him. This time I am just going to have to say that I'm not so sure we have time to wait and hope that they are willing to accept that.

Why you don't want to have asthma

Saoirse is in the hospital, as many of you on facebook and twitter know. Thank you so much for your messages wishing her well!

We were hoping she would be home today, but it looks like she will be in until at least tomorrow morning.

I will post about this in the next few days, once she is home and better. For now I will leave you pictures of her in the U of A ER, where she had her worst moments (temp went up to 39 and stats dropped to 88) and later on, after she had been transferred to another hospital (miles away from our house of course!) where she looks much better and was happily playing with a magna doodle borrowed from the playroom. ("Mummy, that is exactly what I wanted for my birthday!")

Selling out her mother

We were at a birthday party this afternoon. We had been out since 9 in the morning and I foolishly did not bring a spare nappy. I thought to myself that as long as Sophie doesn't poo we are okay.

The party was from 1-3 and just after 2 one of the mum's said "I think she has pooed."

I take a quick peek and can't see anything, but definitely there is a strong smell coming from that direction.

"Oh no, she hasn't...but I think she must have a really smelly fart."

Sophie goes on about her business (playing with a stuffed animals and sticking them through the coffe table) until about 15 minutes later when she sits on the floor and yells at me "MUMMY!!! I POOED!!"

And not just once, she said it over and over "I pooed, I pooed, I pooed." So really I had no choice but to admit that yes, she had pooed, and that I, the most forgetful mother in the world, did not have a nappy. Of course, she was the only one in nappies there. So that is how she stayed until we got home.

I just realized as I was typing this, that out in the car were 3 new pairs of panties...totally could have out her in them and just prayed she wouldn't pee. Feck, forgetful and stupid.

*****

Should I be concerned about Saoirse? She has never been an overly affectionate child, she'll kiss me but her dad usually only gets hugs and she is not one to say "I love you." If you ask her who she loves and name people she will usually answer yes, she loves them but only once has she ever said "I love you, Mummy." At school they were singing that song that goes "Skinnimarinidink (or however it is spelled) I love you, I love you in the morning and in the afternoon, I love you in the evening underneath the moon" You know the one I'm talking about? Anyway, she can sing it properly and does, but sometimes she will go "Skinnimarinidink I don't love no one." Seriously? What the hell is that? This is a child who is told numerous times daily that she is loved. She laughs when I ask her why she says that. I am really worried about it and I'm not sure if I should be or not. I guess I am going to have to bring it up with her doctor when we see him again. I worry that she will be the child who ends up killing the neighbourhood cats.

She also was telling me the other day that her back hurt. "Oh," I say, "Do you need to go to the doctor?" She says "No, I like the pain."

So odd. Odd and worrisome.

So freaking sweet I could eat them up.

Can you tell which one is the troublemaker?

Pondering again

Tonight I went over to the soccer field to watch Liam's practice. There were no parents around- they were all sitting in their nice warm cars. Wusses. I sat down on a picnic bench not to far from the field, but far enough that none of the boys (and the lone girl) would notice me watching.

As I sat and watched Liam I wondered when was the last time I picked him up? When was the last time he sat on my lap? When was the last time he gave me a kiss goodnight?

It seems that without me even noticing he has grown up. I remember he was the one who said no more kisses at night, a year or two after he said "MUMMY! Do NOT kiss me in front of my friends!" I think that was in kindergarten so I suppose night time kissing ended when he was in Grade 1 or 2.

When did I stop carrying him around? When did I stop picking him up if he had a fall? When did he stop sitting on my lap for a bedtime story? What happened to my little baby boy? My toddler who refused to wear a nappy and pants so that he could play with himself whenever he wanted? My sweet little boy who loved his mummy more than anything in the world?

These are milestones that I thought I would remember with regret forever and it saddens me that they passed without me even really noticing. It makes me very aware that one day Saoirse and Sophie won't want to be carried around or need me to lift them up to high places or sit on my lap for a story or even just a cuddle. How much longer do I have with them for them to be my babies instead of my growing up too quickly girls? For how much longer will I be one of the two most important people in their lives?

And then my legs began to freeze and I wondered just how it is that homeless people survive in this city. It wasn't even really cold out tonight, just a wee bit chilly. How in the midst of -30 winters do those who can't get into a shelter make it through the night? I know I often complain about what I don't have, but tonight I was extremely grateful for what I do have- a family who loves me, a home with enough rooms that we can all find privacy should we need it, even if it means locking yourself in a bathroom for 15 minutes (Mummy's time out- a slice of heaven), 2 comforters on my bed to keep me warm rather than a raggedy blanket or nothing at all, food in my cupboards, books on the shelves, pictures on the wall. I have a home and a family to fill it, and tonight while I was freezing outside watching my son play goal in his favourite game, I knew I was a very lucky girl indeed.