100 Things About William

I took a peek at Silly Hily's 100 Things post and in it she said she could probably do a 100 Things on her husband. And I figured I could do one on William too. After a few years together, I must know at least 100 things about him. Plus, there's the added bonus that I don't need to think up a post, which is always a great thing in my books.

1. William was born in Holywood, N. Ireland.
2. He pronounces it like Hollywood.
3. He is the youngest of five children, and the only boy.
4. For years, he thought his dad's name was Mick, but it was really William.
5. His dad was in the British Navy and was called Mick because he was Irish.
6. William does not say he is Irish, he says he is Northern Irish.
7. It drives me crazy because he is Irish.
8. As a child he attended Ian Paisley's Sunday school (yikes!!!)
9. He was also a member of the junior branch of the Loyal Orange Lodge.
10. He wouldn't have been allowed to join had they known his mother was Catholic.
11. Or if they had known that he wasn't baptized.
12. He entered a Catholic Church to attend Taylor's First Communion, so he broke his pledge.
13. He was a part of the March on Stormont in 1972.
14. When he was 8 he used to take the bus into Belfast with his mother to do the shopping and then he would take it home himself while she went off to work.
15. There were bomb scares constantly.
16. I would say he was very poor, but he says he never realized it because so were most other people.
17. He loved Tuesdays because it was payday and he would get a chocolate bar.
18. Most days, he came home to no food for lunch.
19. He was very sick as a child, and spent alot of time in the hospital.
20. Because of this he missed a ton of school.
21. On his very first day of primary school, he and his sister mitched (skipped in my corner of the world.)
22. They hid behind their coal shed and got caught.
23. He had a coin operated TV and sometimes it would go off in the middle of a show.
24. Because he was the only boy he was forced to watch shows like Little House on the Prairie.
25. This may explain why he is so anal about controling the remote.
26. His dad was an alcoholic.
27. They used to have to hang around outisde the pub on paydays to get some money.
28. When he was 13 his dad went missing.
29. They thought he may have been taken by the IRA.
30. It turned out he had left for another woman.
31. His mum ended up going back to Australia.
32. William's oldest sister was left in charge of the four of them.
33. She was only 18 and had a baby.
34. He got into a lot of trouble during this time.
35. He used to go drink in the woods with the winos.
36. He and his friends broke into people's houses.
37. He has scars on his arms from where a soldier burnt him with a cigarette.
38. He got his first tattoo at 12.
39. He has 4 proper tattoos... a grim reaper on his upper arm, some Ulster on his lower arm, a Liverpool FC crest on his chest, and one with two blue birds and hearts on his calf.
40. That one has the name of an ex girlfriend on it, so I don't like it at all.
41. He was given a choice at 14... move to Australia or go to jail.
42. He left for Australia 2 days after his 15th birthday.
43. He didn't eat on the plane because he had no money and he thought he would have to pay for his meal.
44.He was detained at customs because he had no luggage.
45. He never went to school in Australia.
46. He was sexually abused by his doctor there.
47. He is currently in the process of having him taken in front of the medical board.
48. He was also abused by a neighbour as a child.
49. He hitchhiked to Meekathara, Western Australia at 16.
50. Eventually he hitchhiked around most of the country.
51. The only 2 states he has not been to are Queensland and Tasmania.
52. His mum is originally from Tasmania.
53. At 17 he had a daughter, Micheala.
54. Not by choice, he has only seen her twice.
55. She would be 23 now.
56. I'm pretty sure he thinks about her everyday.
57. In 1992 he moved back to N. Ireland.
58. When he showed up at his sister's house she didn't know who he was.
59. He met the woman who he calls 'superbitch' there.
60. They lived together in Bangor.
61. She wanted to leave her 4 children behind and move with him to Australia.
62. He said the kids would have to come.
63. He moved back to Melbourne in 1997.
64. While he worked 16 hour days and built them a house she was sleeping around.
65. He still sponsered her to come to Australia, because of her kids.
66. Three of them moved over.
67. They ended up breaking up. (Obviously!)
68. He is very close to her eldest daughter, Sam.
69. He is a grandfather!
70. Sam has three daughters.
71. Nicole is 2, Natasza is 1 and Danielle was born on the 18th.
72. Danielle was originally called Tiffany.
73. I am sooooo glad they changed that one.
74. Today, 2 of his sisters live in Melbourne, one lives in Scotland and one lives in the same housing estate he grew up in.
75. He has 17 nieces and nephews.
76. He has 4 great nieces.
77. Sophie's middle name Victoria is after one of his nieces.
78. He came here in April 2003.
79. I fell for him straight away.
80. Part of the reason was because he was so great with my kids.
81. Especially Liam, Liam adores him.
82. He worried a lot during the first trimester of my pregnancy as one of his girlfriends had had numerous miscarriages.
83. In November of 2004 Saoirse was born.
84. Her middle name is Maeve but he says it like 'mauve'. As in the colour.
85. William is a fantastic father.
86. He had to go back to Australia when she was 7 weeks old.
87. He came back when she was 8 months old.
88. Saoirse was playing strange with people, but with him it was as though he had never left.
89. She fell asleep on his chest that night.
90. She quickly became a daddy's girl.
91. I was dumped as her favourite person.
92. When I was pregnant with Sophie, we got a letter denying him an extension to his visitor visa and telling him to leave immediately.
93. He left 10 days later after we got a rushed passport for Saoirse.
94. He and Saoirse were gone for 3 months, the worst 3 months of my life.
95. We have just sent in the application for permanant residency and a work visa.
96.If he doesn't get approved, we may have to move to the U.K. (since we are both British citizens.)
97. Because he had sponsored his ex gf previously, he doesn't think he could sponser all of us to go to Australia. (which is okay with me, due to my fear of spiders.)
98. He has psoriasis.
99. He thinks it bothers me but it doesn't.
100. I could not wish for a better father for any of my kids.

The avaliability is astounding

I don't want to come off as a prude in this post although chances are will. So first off, let me say that I don't care what people do in the privacy of their own home. I don't care who you have sex with, what you smoke or what you inject. I do however care that there is someone trafficking drugs in my neighbourhood. This pisses me off immensely.

I have been hearing the rumours about the boyfriend of a girl who lives here for ages. You'd often see a car pull into their driveway and someone shady go into the house for five minutes, come back out and leave. Once I watched two guys get out of a cab and go into the house. The cab turned around and waited. They came back out a few minutes later and left. What else could that be?

They broke up a week before they were due to be married and it was a very quiet summer. Not just because he was gone, but also the pimp car belonging to another boyfriend of another girl also moved on. (What the fuck is going on with my neighbours? There were 3 girls with boyfriends rumoured to be selling drugs, plus two psychotic middle aged woman who are stoned all the time.) Anyway, he came back at the end of August and all this started again.

Last Tuesday (yes! that's how long it takes me to get around to writing a post) Liam and I were going to the store. I had to stop at my friends for a minute and he waited outside. We were standing in her doorway when we saw this guy hop into the backseat of an SUV. She said "He's doing a deal." As I was leaving Jen's house he got out of the car and headed towards his backyard. Liam says to me "I think I just saw a drug deal." I shouted back to Jen that even my 10 year old knew what he was doing, loud enough so that I hope he heard.

I ended up calling the police, he said they would report it to the drug squad. I was asked his name and address and a general description. Last night at our general meeting, Jen, who is the president of our neighbourhood, said that she and I had witnessed a drug deal take place and that the police had been called. At the word police the girlfriend looked right at me, so I wonder if he had said something to her.

While I consider this to be a big deal my friend Shelley had an even bigger deal- a drug bust on her block. Some 800 plants valued at over a million dollars. Two Americans had moved in a few months back and at the end of August there were three or four related busts, involving those 2 and 20 Vietnamese who had just moved from B.C. (did you know they say B.C. has the best pot going? I wouldn't know myself, since I don't do it, but my brother who lives there sent a big jar to William last Christmas. I'm guessing it was alright although there was so much he ended up giving most of it away.) So Shelley was saying tonight that this couple is back in the house and she is none too pleased. It's not even so much the drugs I think as it is the fact that they have got to be gang related. Which means guns. Which sort of frightens us city folk, even those of us who live in gun happy Alberta. Who wants to hear of a gang related shooting in their neighbourhood? It was one thing when it was way on the south side or the north east, but not our pretty little west end.

'Pee' sounds an awful lot like 'three' and other happenings

Saoirse is in the midst of being potty trained; very, very, very slowly. Essentially my method is that she may wear panties if we are at home and if she chooses to use the potty or toilet she can do so, and if she wants a nappy on I will put one on. We have not been great about it, we are on the go quite often and when we are at home she often chooses just to wear her nappy. A sign probably that she is not quite ready.

So a few days ago she was playing one of her favourite games, affectionately called 'One, two, free, jump!' The rules to this game include climbing onto the end table, climbing up on to the arm of the chair (all while doing the countdown) and then jumping onto the sofa cushions. Repeat, repeat and repeat again until you fall of said sofa and bang your head. Cry for a minute and then repeat again. She was standing on the table on, I don't know, maybe her ninth go and she started to count. I hear 'One, two, free, free, free.'
Me: Yes, Saoirse, three...now jump.
Saoirse: Pee, pee, pee.
I look up from staring at Sophie who is eating. Saoirse is standing on the table with one hand between her legs, trying to catch the pee that is now pooling on the table. Down goes Sophie and off Saoirse and I go to the bathroom on the off chance that she managed to hold some in. Nope. She refused to put panties on for the next two days.

Something Saoirse does that the older two never did when they were her age is wipe herself. She refuses to go through a change without using a wipe. It is hilarious to watch her wiping at her bum. She will then get a new wipe and clean her front. Ah, she makes me laugh that one.

Sophie is doing well, although the other week I had to call the Happy Beginnings health line as she had not had a poop in a week. Apparently, it is perfectly normal for breastfed babies of that age to go without for up to 2 weeks. I am not sure if the man farts and the smell that goes along with them are normal though. I swear, you have never smelled anything like it. Frightening.

Everyone else is well, I have a post about parent teacher nights waiting to be finished and I may eventually do so. I don't know why I'm not posting these days. Not much going on I guess. Things are blaaaahhhh. Oh, but I have stamping club on Tuesday. Yay.

See the things that excite me? Loser with a capital L on my forehead.

Some bloggers know me too well

Emmakirst did this one and had "a feeling" I would too. I am very predictable, there's absolutely no denying either that or my love of showering youse all with information about me that you don't need or want to know. So here goes:

1. How often do you blog? Every few days, sometimes more often and sometimes not. I quite often have something I want to blog about but the baby and the state of my house hinders me. William has Sophie at the moment, and I did the kitchen earlier. Except I still need to sweep it.

2. Online Alias: Is it Emma in Canada or Emma from Canada? I can never remember. Needless to say it's hardly an alias. I really am called Emma and I really do live in Canada. But not in an ingloo.

3. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly knew? Yes. Some Chinese man was being harrassed by two native men. I got called some very nasty things in return.

4. What do you do most often when you are bored? I don't usually get bored.

5. When bathing, what do you wash first? My hair.

6. Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight? No I don't think I've gone 48, 36+ though.

7. What color looks best on you? Earth colours. Browns, greens, blahs.

8. What’s your favorite drink? Tea. I don't think I could go a day without a few cups.

9. Do you believe in heaven and hell as a real place that each of us will go to after death? I believe in Heaven, but not Hell. William is of the opinion that you can't believe in only one.

10. Do you find that you have more online friends than offline friends? No. I'm not sure at what point you call someone who's blog you comment on a friend. There are definitely people I think I would get on with in real life though.

11. What was your favorite subject in school? English, Social Studies, Law.

12. Are you a perfectionist? I wish I were a perfectionist. I wish my house was always clean and my scrapbook pages were always fantastic. It's not so.

13. Do you spend more than you can afford? I spend what I have but I do not save. So yes.

14. Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have love before? Most definitely, no matter how much it hurts.

15. Do you consider yourself creative? No, I'm a copier. I love Splitcoast stampers for my cards and I buy Scrapbooks, etc. every month to steal page ideas.

16. Do you give yourself the credit you deserve? Do I deserve any? I hate that sort of question.

17. Do you donate to charities? Yes, especially when it is done through the school such as the Terry Fox run for cancer and Jump Rope for Heart for the Heart and Stroke Foundation.

18. Have you recently done something that you’ve criticized others for doing? I don't think I usually criticize people for things I do as well. I can hardly judge someone for yelling at their kids when I do it myself.

19. What’s on your mind? I can't wait for Amazing Race to start!

20. Say one nice thing about the people you are going to tag! You are lovely, lovely people and you had better do this. I am not tagging anyone in particular, if I read your blog I'd probably like to see what you have to say.

Word Cloud

Stolen once again from Lost Somewhere in Antrim. I love this thing.



Wouldn't this be perfect for a scrapbook page?

There must be something in Canadian water

Lukas won Rockstar Supernova last night, the second Canadian to win in the show's two seasons. What's with that? I was going for him, purely because he was Canadian but I didn't like him enough to actually get off my lazy arse and vote for him. I voted for J.D. Fortune many times. I also would not go see Supernova in concert, like I did for INXS.

And here is why. Lukas is no hottie. And I am purely of the belief that one should only attend a concert if there are good looking people involved. I am certainly from the video age. And Lukas is not even remotely cute with all that crap on his face. What was with the glitter lip gloss last night? It made me cringe.

I thought it was between Toby (hot and a good singer) and Lucas (not hot, great singer) so was disappointed to see that bitchy Dilana in the final two. And I knew who won before I watched it thanks to my friend Michelle with whom I had this conversation at Meet the Teacher last night.

M: I know who who Rockstar!
E: Were you watching Newfoundland T.V.? Tell me who won!"
E: No, don't!! Just tell me if it was a girl or boy.
M: Did you want her to win?
E: No I can't stand her.
M: She doesn't win.
E: Was she the first to go?
M: No it was Magni and then Toby.
E: Ummmm, Michelle, you just told me who won.

And, sadly, knowing does make the show slightly less exciting.

Remembering September 11th.

In July I signed up to participate in a blogging tribute to the victims of 9/11. Of course, being me, I left it to the very last moment before I typed a thing, although I had read about Marie Pappalardo, of whose name I randomly received.

Marie was 53 (but going on 33 according to her daughter) and had lived in Paramount, California for 12 years where she was a Controller and Production Manager for ALA Foods.

Marie was returning to California on Flight 175, the plane that hit the South Tower of the World Trade Center. She had been on her annual trip to her home state of Massachusetts to visit her daughter, Maria, for Maria’s birthday as well as to attend the Feast of the Three Saints, celebrated on Labour Day at her home church, The Holy Rosary in Lawrence.

After Marie’s death her co-worker Steve Santoyo revealed that he and Marie had been married for 2 years, and that she was step mother to his three daughters. Their marriage was kept private because of their jobs.

Marie’s interests included travel, racehorses (she loved the horse Affirmed, a Triple Crown winner), all sorts of music, operas and animals, especially cats. She would take stray cats to the vets for shots and spaying. She even cut a hole into her garage door to allow cats to come in to eat. She had two cats of her own, Mickey and Mouse.

Marie Pappalardo is survived by her daughter and son in law, Maria and Lance Koutny, her husband Steve Santayo, her three stepdaughters; Rebecca, Erica and Amber as well as two brothers.

5 Years Ago Today

I was in bed (well, I was on the couch...my ex and I had split up, but due to finances stayed in the same house, I got the couch) and the phone rang. I had no clue whowould be calling me at 6.30 in the morning and when I looked at call display I wondered who would be calling long distance at this very ungodly hour.

It was my cousin Thomas calling from Belfast (well, just outside Belfast, too small a place to say where) and he said to me "Can you come over next week?"

He had a free ticket for me. He was working for British Airways at the time, oddly enough he was let go due to downsizing while I was there. The ticket was from Vancouver to Belfast via London. So all I had to do was make my way to Vancouver and back from there again. Not too bad at all.

I was due to fly out to Vancouver on Friday the 14th and spend the night with my friend Lisa and would leave for Belfast on the Saturday evening.

And then September 11th happened. And I wondered if I would get to go at all. I was hugely judged by some of the parents at achool for my decision to go. One mum said that they had friends that were due to leave for Spain and had cancelled it because of 9/11. I said that there was no way I was passing up a free trip to Ireland and anyway, wasn't it reasonable to believe that the safest time to travel would be after something terrible like that? Extra security and all.

So off I went. I was only supposed to go for a week, but ended up spending a month. I will never regret going, even though I missed Taylor and Liam like crazy. My cousin spent most of his time drinking so I was left to my own devices most of the time. I went to London for a weekend and down to Dublin for a 20th anniversary rally of the Hunger Strikes. I was only supposed to go for the day but missed the last bus back to Belfast as I was too busy reading. Eejit, I am. I was flying to Birmingham the next day to spend a week with my Nan and Grandad and I literally was down to my last 10 pounds. I was totally fucked. I could get a hold of no one I knew in Belfast, I couldn't find the phone number of the one person I knew of in Dublin and every hotel was booked as Ireland played Holland that day. Not that I would have got far with what little money I had and an over the limit credit card. No, I was going to call either my mother or grandad to bail me out. In the end I ended up finding a room in a hostel that was also a hotel. I think it was called Brown's. I don't even know where it was, just that I walked for 3 hours looking for somewhere.

I also got to meet my great aunt Emma, a woman I have always been fascinated by. Not only because we share a name and she was the only member of my father's family that my mother actually liked but because she was blinded by a British soldier who shot her and oddly enough, really showed no bitterness. She also met Mother Teresa which I was very impressed with when I went through my v. brief religious phase when I was little.

Most importantly of course, was seeing my Nan and Grandad. It was the last time I saw my Nan as she had her stroke a few months later. And the chances of seeing my Grandad again are slim to none.

Anyways, I had a fantastic time and I spend most of September and early October saying "...years ago on this day I was here or here." Quite pathetic!

Somehow 5 months later the excitement just isn't there

I admit that I love celebrity gossip. Especially baby gossip. So while I never believed that there was never a baby Cruise or that there was something wrong with her, I did wonder what this couple who had been so blatantly lovey dovey for the papparazi for the last year was up to. Why suddenly go all camera shy? It was a wee bit odd.

And yesterday when I switched over to Katie Couric's first time as the host of the CBS evening news what was she talking about? The Cruise family on the cover of Vanity Fair. For this she left the Today show? Not exactly hard news. In fact the whole show was very Today-ish, from the plump armchairs to the never ending toothy grin.

And I first I looked and said "What the fuck is that?" Because all I could see was black and a bit of the palest skin. It took me a minute to realize that she was inside her father's coat and it totally blended with her hair. And what a head of hair! I have never been partial to babies with a ton of hair though there are certainly some cute ones in baby blog land. Her hair overwhelms her, and it's so black it appears dyed. But she is cute, as most babies are. Except for in the picture of her lying on Katie's chest in which she just looks frightening.

Or perhaps she is just frightened by the craziness that is her family.

What we love

William loves Saoirse and Saoirse loves her daddy. I love the way they are looking at each other in this picture. Absolute adoration on both their parts.



Saoirse loves monkeys and we all love her new Halloween costume from Old Navy. You can't really see it but that little bit of yellow there is a banana. Too freakin' cute. Sophie is going to be a bat. I wanted the duck, but Children's Place sold out right away. Blah.




And I really, really love my thingermajinger from IKEA. (See post below) It is some funky. Top pocket is for Taylor's agenda and notes, middle is for Liam, and the bottom is for mail and whatnot. I'm loving it. I also love the picture above it, which is a shamrock made from aluminum foil by my cousin's girlfriend Sophie. She's very artsy, something I am so not.

2 months down, 8 hours to go...

The two oldest are back to school in just a few short hours. I love the beginning of the school year. There is such optimism that this is the year we will become organized and have homework done each night and the agenda signed. No lunches will ever be left on the kitchen counter while the child is already in class. I say this every year and every year by, say, September 15th I have lost all interest in signing my initals to an empty spot in the agenda. Eventually I will stop opening the agenda at all as there is so rarely anything written in it and that will be when I miss some big news. "SUN GLARE IN PHOTOS! RETAKES TOMORROW!!!" And how will my child go off to school? In an old shirt and with unbrushed hair.

And what makes me think this year will be any different? It will be different because this year I have a new accessory. A funky cloth and wood thingermajinger from IKEA. I should take a picture and post it. It is 2 pieces of wood hanging from the wall with 3 cloth bags on it. I love it. I first saw it years ago but never bought it and then they didn't stock it for ages. I saw it again in April and I was still in love. I bought it and saved it until we moved. So the new rule is the moment Taylor and Liam come in they are to empty their knapsacks into their assigned bag area and I will sign whatever needs to be signed in there, make any notes about events on the giant fridge calendar and generally be very together and organized and not the mum that all my so called friends make fun of for being so untogether.

I'm pinning alot of hope on this thing. It better work bloody miracles.

Hiya Lisa

When Sophie was born I emailed pictures of her to family in England and a few friends, including my friend Lisa who has been living in Vancouver for ages. She emailed me back saying she needed an update because she didn't even know I was pregnant. Yes, that's the sort of friend I am. So I directed her here and to the other blog. I could have just rang her but sometimes it's hard to have a decent conversation with nosy preteens and crying babies around.

So Lisa is the first person I actually know (besides William) that has read this. I've never told anyone my blog address before because there's always a chance I could say something nasty about them. I haven't given it to family because occassionally there are sexual references and I would rather my family members assume I have had sex a grand total of four times, and only in the missionary position, thanks very much. I also wondered that if people I knew were reading this would I change the way I write or what I write about. I don't think I will in this case.

For those of you who don't know- that'd be everyone- Lisa and I met in highschool. We started talking in French class, a language in which she was fluent and I was well...not. And yet she had the decency not to laugh at me while I struggled to read something out loud. She is the only person from those days that I have kept in contact with and should she ever leave a comment (hint hint!! I live for comments people. Sad but true.) she could tell you herself that some of those girls leave much to be desired.

Lisa emailed me that she had spent sometime reading my blogs and was left with only two questions. I'll email her those answers but I'll post a picture of William so she can see what he looks like. Irish, I say. :)

And the crime spree goes on...

I tell you, Hoping is fantastic to steal from. And so here I go again...

1. Who was your first prom date? We don't have promshere, we have grads. I went to the German bastard's and a week later he came to mine. His was pretty good, mine was a disaster.

2. Who was your first roommate? That would have been my ex husband. We moved in together 2 weeks after my 19th birthday. Disaster.

3. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time? I was 17 and went to a ladies night thing. We went to about 6 different bars and I drank different things at all of them. Vodka, tequila, rum...you name it I drank it. I was soooooo pissed I blacked out. I do, however, remember offering the limo driver a blowjob. Humiliating.

4. What was your first job? A cashier at Zellers.

5. What was your first car? Still bloody waiting.

6. When did you go to your first funeral? A few days before my 9th birthday. My granda's.

7. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? I consider that to be Birmingham, so 3.

8. Who was your first grade teacher? Mrs. Windsor.

9. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? 6 months. We came to Canada on holiday. If I had a scanner I would post the pic of my mum in a miniskirt and my Aunt Marie in a black tanktop, red short shorts, black tights and red wedges. Judging by the teenagers at the mall this summer it is a look that is back in fashion 32 years later.

10. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? It was at my friend Janine's house. We were 12. There was another girl called Rosemarie. We took a very little bit of Janine's dad's liquor (verylittle because it was very gross), imagined we were drunk, and went to see if we could get into an empty house near my place. We couldn't.

11. Who was your first Best Friend and are you still friends? His name was David, we were best friends from 3 to 5, when he moved away. No idea where he is now.

12. Where was your first sleepover? My cousin Jane's. Janine's for non family.

13. Who is the first person you call when you have a problem? My mummy, of course.

14. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or groomsmen? My Aunt Barbara's when I was 11. It was in Norwich. They're divorced today of course.

15. What is the first thing you do in the morning? Feed Sophie.

16. What was the first concert you ever went to? Hehe. The Nylons. They were fantastic actually. Stop laughing.

17. First tattoo or piercing? First and only tattoo at the grand old age of 27. Ears at 8.

18. First celebrity crush? Sean Astin. And his wee brother Mackenzie. I named my cat after him. My first cat was named after Sid Vicious, but it seems a bit morbid to say your first crush was on a dead man.

19. Age of first real kiss with tongue? 13, on a canal boat in England with my cousin's friend Robert. He was an older man at 16 lol.

20. First crush? There were plenty in elementary school, but the first serious one was for 2 years in junior high. His name was Colin.

21. First REAL love? Probably the German bastard. We were together for 3 years. I must have loved him to put up with his shit. Either that, or I was scared to death of him.

Stealing once again

This time it's on Saoirse's behalf. I saw this ages ago on Tonya's blog in regards to her daughter Randie and although Saoirse wasn't tagged, we're doing this anyway. Because to be quite honest with you, there is not a coherent thought in my head these days.

3 Nicknames:
Sorshie-Porshie
sweet pea
lovey

3 People That Make Me Laugh:
Daddy
Taylor
Liam

3 Things I Love:
the park
my new sister
chocolate

3 Things I Hate:
being told no (we entered the terrible two's about 7 months ahead of schedule)
not getting my own way
waking up alone

3 Things I Don't Understand:
the word "no"
why I have to hang out with my mum all day (boring, apparently)
why my mummy and daddy would like me to sleep in my own bed

3 Things On My Floor:
stuffed animals
all the clothes Mummy has yet to put away
a lot of rubbermaid containers waiting to be moved

3 Things I'm Doing Right Now:
sleeping (it's almost 10 pm.)
snoring
moving around

3 Things I Can Do:
put on my own shoes, except for the hiking boots...and always on the right feet
swing myself on a swing
talk non stop

3 Things I Cannot Do (yet):
give up my dummy
sleep on my own (can't...won't...it's all the same)
sing the alphabet

3 Ways to Describe My Personality:
Smart
Loving
Determined

3 Absolute Favorite Foods:
spaghetti
fries (just for the ketchup)
peanut butter on toast

3 Foods I do NOT like:
The maternal figure is drwaing a blank.

3 Beverages I Drink Regularly:
milk
raspberry juice
water...because coke has been banned in the house, due to my love for it.

3 Shows I Watch:
Sesame Street
Clifford the Big Red Dog
Barney

First Grade Torture

Tonight we were discussing peanuts and how schools are esentially peanut free. Taylor isn't allowed to take a peanut butter sandwich to school and I wondered how my brother would have survived elementary school, since I am quite sure that is all he ever took for lunch for 6 years.

And it reminded me of this thing that happened in Grade One and I was sure you would all want to hear about it. But first I have to say that this happened in 1980 and it saddens me to realize that half of the people I know of that read this blog weren't even born yet. Telling stories from your childhood makes you realize how freaking old you are. Me= old before her time.

We had a healty eating month (or perhaps it was a week or two...it was 26 years ago, people, do not expect me to remember the small details) and each day we tried a different healthy food. Fruit, vegetables, whatever. I do seem to recall ants on a log, of which I ate the cheese whiz (healthy? somehow I doubt it) and the raisins but managed to avoid the majority of the celery, a food I hate to this day. And then there was the day we had to eat peanut butter cookies.

You see why I had to point out that it was 1980? A few years later and peanut butter was a banned substance, now considered a possible killer. Where were all the nut allergies when I was six to save me from the nastiness that was peanut butter cookie day?

We got our cookies after morning recess. Being the smart cookie that I was, I put mine in my desk. These were 1970s desks, if you recall the sort, with an open hole where your books and whatnot went. Unlike today's fancy desks, with a pull out drawer. All was fine until just before lunch when Paul freaking White, the little red headed bugger, walked along looking into peoples' desks. "Mrs. Windsor! Emma didn't eat her cookie!" See now, if I had been a very smart cookie I would have shoved that cookie to the back of my desk instead of leaving it at the front. Not so bright. "Isn't it a good thing that I looked into desks, Mrs. Windsor?" Paul says. Oh, that boy was a brown noser to the highest degree. Mrs. Windsor tells me to eat the cookie. "I can't," I say, "I don't like peanut butter." She tells me I have to, I cry. I'm not joking, I really hate peanut butter. If Tommy, as my brother was known by then, wants to annoy me he chases me with a piece of bread with peanut butter on it (or pigs feet, but that'a a whole other story.)

Mrs. Windsor moves my desk behind hers. Her desk is in a sort of alcove, I can see nothing, not the board, not a single other desk. There I sit for the rest of the day, right through lunch recess and afternoon recess, until I finish the cookie. Which I eventually did. It took me 3 1/2 hours and there was a lot of tears and a lot of gagging. But I did it. And I immediately went home and told my mother how mean Mrs. Windsor was and what a bastard Paul White was. I am quite sure I did not use the word bastard. Bastard was a no-no word in our house, and one I did not know until I was older, but definitely knew by the time I was 11. As you may recall, I called the dog a bastard and later that day it ran away...

I can not recall what my parents reaction to this was. I assume there was one, they were usually fairly pro-active in cases like this. After all, in the third grade my dad called the school and got mad at my teacher for marking a spelling test 15/16 because I spelt grey the English way instead of the Canadian way. (I no longer know which one is the English spelling, gray or grey.) I should hope they did something. I was certainly never forced to eat any other food again.

I am still anti peanut butter today. Taylor and Saoirse love it, Liam hates it. I think I made Taylor one sandwich in her life, usually her dad would do it and once she was 3 and could use a knife she made them herself. I have been forced to spread peanut butter on toast for Saoirse when William isn't home but this summer I have been able to get Taylor to do it. So much for motherly love, I won't even give Saoirse a kiss until the peanut butter had been washed away by a drink.