I am in the last week of a work contract. Come Saturday, my contract will be done and I will have the entire month of July off. This will be cause for celebration, assuming that I make it to Saturday intact.
Without making any incriminating comments that could cost me my paycheque (Paycheck, for my American friends), I am feeling a little pressured. In the next few days I am required to cram triple the work into a third of the time (or something like that). All of this while trying to run a household and KEEP MY KIDS ALIVE (And also, not killing each other)(They generally get along famously, but THERE ARE MOMENTS).
I had sent Matthew off to golf on Sunday afternoon (since I always seem to be the one who gets kid-free time) and that chunk of time seems to have put me further behind the eight-ball. On Monday afternoon after getting basically NOTHING done all day, I called my husband in tears. Within thirty minutes, he had left work and carted the kids down to the beach so that I could get caught up on work. Have I mentioned that he rocks?
While the “I WON’T EVER GET CAUGHT UP AND I MIGHT DIE” feeling has been abated, I am still in the, “HOLY CRAP I HAVE A LOT OF STUFF TO DO AND AM MISSING OUT ON THE SUNSHINE, WAAAAH” mode. Saturday cannot come fast enough. And yet, we all know it will be here before I know it. Maybe I should just stop whining already.
Speaking of this weekend…
A few weeks ago my StepMom (Lance’s Mom) called and said that she wanted to have the kids come to her house for a visit. I told her that we had full intentions of doing a trip to the Coast and visiting all of the grandparents (Don’t ask me to describe my family tree. It might be my own family, but even I get confused as to who is who sometimes).
She clarified her request. She wanted the kids to come to “Grandma’s house” all by themselves. WITHOUT US.
This may seem like a normal thing for some of you out there, but this something that I never experienced as a child. My grandparents were in Ontario (across the country), so any trips to see them included my parents. My kids get to go to Grandma’s house without Mommy and Daddy there to PUT A DAMPER ON THE FUN. Oh, you should hear the kids.
If I thought that the countdown to the Car Show was annoying exuberant, the trip to Grandma Shona’s house is full of EXCITEMENT OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. Not only have they been counting down how many “sleeps” until they leave, the have been creating crafts (and crafts, AND CRAFTS) for Grandma Shona. They have also been telling us that THEY AREN’T GOING TO MISS US AT ALL. Nope. And that they are GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH FUN, punctuated with a “NANA NANA POO POO.” (Yes, really.)
Thank goodness she gets here tomorrow to stay for a few days before whisking them away. I don’t know how much longer we can all endure all of the build-up.
Matthew is running a basketball camp next week while they are gone, but it’s only for the mornings. Apart from that we are responsibility-free for five days. FIVE DAYS. No work, no kids, NOTHING.
I will miss those little rugrats, yes, but FIVE DAYS, PEOPLE. Five days as just Matthew and I. Weird. And a little bit awesome.
I plan on doing some organizing…and then a bunch of nothing. I am hoping to spend a lot of time basking in the summer sun and reading some good books. This will continue into the rest of July as once the kids are back we will be in the summer routine of days spent down at the lake, soaking up the sunshine.
This is where I need some help with my bookshelf. I was lent Eat, Pray Love and…was bored. Not to knock those who loved it but I cut my losses after Chapter Three. I was also lent The Poisonwood Bible and…not bored, but OVERWHELMED. I haven’t given up…yet. It’s just been put on hold.
The only book I have completed front to back (twice) lately is Rage (You’ve pre-ordered it, yes?)
We have a wicked local library system where I can request books online and they will be shipped within days from one of the other libraries. If a book is not available? There’s always Amazon.
I need some good summer reading. Suggestions?
Over at Work It! Mom: So, I’m married?
Comments Off On Saturday morning we thought that we’d take a break from our usual “You watch the kids while I get some work done/I’ll watch the kids while you get some work done” routine. There was a “Show & Shine” happening and we thought it would be a neat thing to take the kids to as a family. There seems to be one of these events around here almost every week in the summer, but this is the Big One.
We made a fatal error in planning our day, however: we told the kids about it in advance. From Friday afternoon until we walked out the door on Saturday morning, we heard the following approximately every five minutes or so:
“We’re going to the car show! We’re going to the CAR SHOW. WE’RE GOING TO THE CAAAAAAAR SHOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!”
As annoying as that was, it was also nice to have the upper hand. “You don’t want to eat your dinner/clean up your toys/go to bed? NO CAR SHOW FOR YOU.” Not that we use that tactic very often. Ahem.
FINALLY, it was time to leave. We were meeting Matthew’s brother and his family and planned to meet them at the S.S. Sicamous.
They got sidetracked by Starbucks (happens to the best of us) and so we wandered along the beach for a bit.
Before we knew it, they had arrived. The City of Penticton shuts down one side of the road that runs along the lake and it is jam packed with the coolest array of vintage cars that you e’er did see. Right at the start of our walk we saw Matthew’s dream car and he asked me to take a photo:
I should know what it is, but I don’t. It sure is pretty though.
Graham, lover of the color red, was in his glory. A good chunk of the cars were red, and upon seeing each one he would exclaim, “It’s a red car! I love red! RED IS MY FAVORITE COLOR!!!”
Dude. You’ve said that fifty times already. WE KNOW.
He found his “favorite” car and wanted his photo taken with it.
It was red. Obviously.
Emily was hoping to see some pink cars. There probably were some pink cars somewhere, but all we ran across was a purple truck.
Good enough for her.
Nathan’s favorite color is green. He loves all things green (except vegetables) and was duly impressed with the few green vehicles that we saw.
Imagine my surprise when he decided that his favorite car was not a green one, but a red one.
He is our Sporto, though, so I guess I’m not that surprised.
I thought I’d take a self-portrait, what with all of the SHINY REFLECTIVENESS going on everywhere.
I didn’t intend for this next one to be a self-portrait, but look! There I am!
Super Deluxe. That’s me. Ha!
Here is the point in the post where I thought I’d spare everyone scrolling through the rest of the photos I took. I’d use the “gallery function” in WordPress and make a pretty mosaic! And people would have the option to view the larger photos only if they wanted to! But the stupid gallery function posts ALL of the photos you had uploaded (including the above). There’s not option to pick a selection of what you uploaded.
So then I had a brainwave. There must be a plug-in. I did a Google search and lo! Photo gallery plug-ins galore! About FIVE HUNDRED OF THEM. I don’t have time for this. (Also, I need Matthew to become a web designer. Considering the dude avoids all things Internet-relayed, it’s not likely to happen.
OK. Enough griping. Here are the other shots I took. While the cars themselves are amazing, I was intrigued by the little details.
I could have shot photos all day, but we had those three little people along with us. Considering that it was blazing hot, the streets were crammed with people (who generally don’t notice those under four feet) and that this wasn’t a kid-themed event, they did great. After about an hour they were DONE. The cries of I’m hungry/tired/hot were listened to and we left before making it all the way down the strip. I told Honey to head back with his guy friends but it was shutting down late afternoon; it wasn’t going to happen.
On the drive home we decided for certain that trips to places like Disneyland are still a few years off. We have always said that we would wait until Emily was at least five, but a bunch of Graham’s friend have gone lately. He’s been telling us this past week that he wants to “move to the United States” when he grows up and is married so that he can “go to Disneyland.” We had started to wonder if we should possibly take the kids this winter.
While the boys fared pretty well on Saturday, it was a little too much for Miss Emily. She wanted to be carried, she was bored long before the others were, her Whine Factor was at ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. While Disneyland is kid-themed, there really is only so much a not-quite-three-year-old can endure. No need to make us all miserable.
In the meantime, we are looking foward to taking in more local events as a family. There is a lot to partake in around here. We can head out for a few hours, do something different, then when the meltdows occur (AND YOU KNOW THEY WILL) we can head home. Extended vacations can wait for a few (or ten) years.
Over at Work It! Mom: What do you say when a marriage ends?
Comments Off So. I have a daughter. (I’m good at stating the obvious.)
A little over a year ago I had a dream. A dream of a Big Girl Room for this only girl of mine. Before I could decorate this ROOM OF WONDER I needed to have a starting point. Being the stellar interior designer that I am (Ha!) I thought that I needed to start with the bedding. It seemed silly to me to start decorating a room if I did not have bedding on which to base my color palette. Those who have been around for awhile might remember the post about my dreams for Emily’s room. I chose some Pottery Barn bedding and went to town on customizing her room. The only thing that needed to be updated was to remove her crib and bring in her Big Girl Bed.
(And also, install a ceiling light. To this day, it is a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. I want to buy a chandelier, but Matthew already bought a dome (aka BOOB) light. WHICH IS STILL NOT INSTALLED OVER A YEAR LATER. I might just have to “surprise” him and get someone to install a chandelier for me. AHEM.)
When I went to Vancouver for the BlogHer meetup two weekends ago, part of my pitch for leaving Honey with the kids for the weekend included me going to IKEA to buy the Big Girl Bed.
I had originally wanted to buy this Hemnes bed (to match her Hemnes dresser and side table):
Isn’t it ADORABLE? It is also $499. Matthew thought it was a little bit much to pay for a bed but told me, “You do what you think is right.” Sigh. It really was hard to justify spending that much on a bed when there was another perfectly adorable white Hemnes bed for less than half of the price.
I was a good girl responsible grown-up and brought home the lower priced bed.
Last Sunday (Father’s Day!) I had Matthew disassemble the crib (because I don’t know how) and take it out to the shop attic (His Dad made it, so we won’t be giving it away). Honey hauled all of the boxes for the new bed up to Emily’s room for me. I told him to leave me with the power drill and go watch some golf or something. I had everything under control. Except I didn’t. I dropped one of the side slats on my foot. And possibly said a very, very bad word. At least I was alone. He helped me get the basic frame together and then I completed the task (Allan keys and brackets and wooden slats, oh my!)
Here is how it all turned out:
The photo frames look all crooked and warped, but I can assure you that they are lined up and straight. I even used a measuring tape and everything. GO ME.
I asked Emily if she wanted to pose on her bed for me.
I’m loving the hands placed ever-so-nicely on her lap. This NEVER happens.
She might be a LITTLE EXCITED ABOUT HER BED. She has told me that it’s her “Happy Place,” that it’s a “Princess bed,” that she’s “A BIG GIRL NOW!” She uses that last line all of the time, whether she is on the toilet or wearing new clothes I had to buy her because she keeps growing. “I’m a big girl now!” She has also been known to throw out the, “Because I’m the baby” statement about the same amount of times. She knows how to work whatever angle works best in a situation. Have I mentioned that she is my girl?
I told her to go ahead and do what she loves to do best on her bed (besides sleeping):
My baby is no longer in diapers and now sleeps in a bed. She’s growing up at warp speed. This is both wickedly awesome and horribly frightening, all at the same time.
I’ve said it before and I will say it again: I want to freeze time. Right here, right now.
I started blogging almost four years ago (WTH?) with the sole purpose of posting photos of my kids for our friends and family to see. The side benefit was for me to have a place to share a few of my thoughts about me and mine. As the months (and years) passed I grew to love and appreciate this community of which I was a part of, due mostly to the fact that I am (usually) brave enough to hit the “Publish” button.
Despite my honest and humble beginnings, I have to confess that I sometimes felt a little left out. It seemed as though so many blog friends I knew were getting free stuff, being carted away to special conferences, and raking in the few benefits available to those who do this whole “blog” thing. While being happy for them and the swag they were getting, I kind of wished I could be included in their special little party. This is not the reason that I do this (AT ALL) but sometimes it feels nice to be included, you know? But I wasn’t included and would have the occasional pity party (without party favors, OBVIOUSLY).
(Cue the wahmbulance)
Last fall BlogHer put out the call for bloggers to be part of their review network. All you had to do was create an ad-free site or page. They would hook you up with sponsors who would have you review their products. Free stuff? And getting paid to post? SIGN ME UP. Because seriously, free stuff is nothing to complain about. I signed up and…nothing. Many of my blog friends were getting sweet stuff to review and I was still not asked to dance. It is no fault of BlogHer; I know for a fact that they love Canadians. I knew it was probably due to the fact that many US companies fail to deal with Canadians.
(Cue sad trombone)
But then! I received an email asking if I would be willing to try a new skin care product by Estée Lauder. I am thirty-four; my skin needs all the help it can get. I accepted their gracious offer. Trying out skin care products was not the end of it. On the Thursday night of BlogHer (July 23rd), those of us reviewing the skin care line are going to be whisked away in a limo and brought to Macy’s for an Estée Lauder party. My inner Princess squealed a little. I get to wear a pretty dress? And go to a party? AND RIDE IN A LIMO?
Consider me tickled pink. And purple. With possible glitter.
The next day I was also asked to be part of a Ford Ride-And-Drive deelio. During the day on that same Thursday (the 23rd) I get to drive Ford cars and such, along with forty-nine other bloggers. I only know of three other bloggers who will also be there. Will you be there? Wanna drag race? (I’m KIDDING, Ford. I obey the speed limit. Sometimes.)
Back to the Estée Lauder party. IT’S FOR EVERYONE. And not just those in Chicago. It’s for people EVERYWHERE. Yes, REALLY. Due to the whole ads thing, I can’t tell you about it here, but I can tell you about it over at my review site. Come and see my (not so) wrinkly face and find out how you can get free stuff.
Seriously, friends. Cool stuff like this has never happened to me before. I’m a little (a lot) excited about it, and happy that you can get free stuff too.
How Does Your Garden Grow?
Date: Tuesday June 23, 2009Posted in: Honey, Life In The Sticks, fitness&health, me
I do not have a “Green Thumb.” I grew up with a Dad who could (and can) create beautiful gardens. Flowers in every color under the sun and fruits and vegetables that were so succulent that it was a little bit ridiculous. While I am like my Dad in looks and a number of personality traits, I did not inherit his green thumb. One summer I house sat for friends of his who had two cats and a home full of plants. I managed to keep the cats alive (Even thought they kept bringing me dead birds. EW) but by the time the couple returned from their trip approximately half of their indoor plants had turned brown.
It turns out that plants need water. Who knew? (You probably do. Shut up.)
When I was a single gal in Vancouver my Dad would buy me plants…only to witness them die a slow and painful death at the hands of his daughter. He finally gave up and bought me some trailing vines. Those need very little water to live . This should be a match made in Heaven. Except that I killed each and every one. I am awesome like that. (Related: HOW WAS I ALLOWED TO HAVE CHILDREN?)
A short while later I married a man with Dutch blood and moved to an acreage with a huge plot laid out in which to host a garden. The first few years we lived here we (he) didn’t plant anything as we were getting settled, building a business and starting a family. The last few years have been a whole ‘nother story.
I was going to post a photo of the entire garden (I actually took one then subsequently deleted it) but settled on a photo of one of our rows of spinach. Just know that we have everything from strawberries, to peppers, to tomatoes, to green onions, to squash to….a whole bunch of other stuff. I am too lazy to walk out and read the garden labels and also think that such minute detail is overrated.
This past weekend was our (Matthew’s) first harvest. We had our first haul of rhubarb and strawberries.
On Sunday afternoon, Matthew decided to make a Strawberry Rhubarb crumble. Yes, he made dessert ON FATHER’S DAY. Truth be told, I offered to make it. He was just so proud of the fruits (Ha!) of his labor that he wanted to make it all by himself. Fine. And fine, it was.
Words cannot express how amazing it was (or how I could not stop myself from taking an extra bite (or twenty)). I asked him where he found the recipe and his response was, “I think it might be from a blog.”
I walked over to his laptop and then laughed out loud. It was Smitten Kitchen’s Strawberry-Rhubarb crumble. OF COURSE it was good. It’s SMITTEN KITCHEN for crying out loud. You all need to make this recipe. STAT.
Despite my history of being the Harbinger of Death to any and all plant life, I have always wanted an herb garden. This may be news to any new readers, but you old school folks know that I love to cook and even have a recipe site. It’s been far too long since I posted anything over there, but there is the whole (LACK OF) TIME ISSUE. I also have been in a bit of a cooking rut that I’ve been slowly breaking out of.
Back to the herb garden. We went to the local plant nursery, I picked out the herbs I use the most (Basil, Oregano, Thyme and Rosemary) and planted them in containers. We have a bay window by our kitchen table that faces South, which is perfect for getting all of the sunshine the herbs need. A month later and they are thriving. I do believe that this is a miracle of some sort.
Matthew asked me what happens next to which I replied, “I have no idea.” I consulted Google but the instructions I found are way too vague for a novice like me. I need someone to say, “After XXX days, do THIS. And maybe THAT. Then use them to cook with.”
Help?
And finally (the crowd perks up just like a congregation does when the Pastor starts a sentence with, “In conclusion…”) I have been branching out in my recipes lately. We had gotten into a terrible rut of eating the same thing the same nights of the week and have been bored. I’ve been trying one to two new recipes per week. On Friday I made something that I absolutely love but had never attempted to make before: California rolls!
Not only did they look like California Rolls, they tasted like California rolls. Yet another miracle. I’m always open for new recipes (and tips for what to do with my herbs), so if you are so obliged you can hook me up.
So, that’s some of what we’ve been up to. A little bit of being granola mixed with a little bit of being Star Trek (A new frontier and all of that). Next thing you know we’ll get some cows and I’ll be milking them at 5 am. If it were up to my husband that would totally happen but, um, NO.
