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.