The differences bewtween Boys and Girls. Potty training 101

Mr.Man calls to me from the general vacinity of the bathroom "Mom! I need you help me!" Puzzled, i replied "Help you with what babe? where are you?"
"i need you help me go pee"

Pee? but he's been doing that by himself for weeks now, I think to myself. I turn as he comes skipping into the living room, holding his penis in one hand, extending the other to me "Come mommy, I hold your hand". ookay, what else is a mother to do? I followed along.

He ran ahead as he neared the bathroom, and as I turned the corner, I saw him attempting to climb onto the seat backwards, facing the toilet tank.

"Whatcha doing big guy?" I ask, confused and bewildered.

"I'm trying to pee like daddy mom, help me pee standing up!"

I...oh...what? Pee, like daddy? Like, STANDING?! oh dear lord no, i thought in a panic, remember a recent conversation I had with friends, all of us thankful our little boys hadn't discovered peeing standing up, and thus limiting our cleaning.

"Mom, help ME" Mr. Man whined, impatient with my momentary lack of attention.

Thinking fast, I plunked Miss. A down on the floor, and lifted up the seats of the toilet in an attempt to reproduce what Mr. Man saw his father doing.

"ok, Mister, now come stand here, aim, and go pee" I coached, not at all sure of the mechanics of peeing upright, having, due to my double X chromosomes, never experience the thrill.

"no mom, not like this, like this!" he proclaimed, pulling down the bottom seat. "ok, Whatever you want kid, just go pee!" I encouraged, thinking ahead to where the nearest stash of rags were.

Still, no pee. We tried a stool, we tried standing *on* the toilet, we tried it all. Finally I had enough.
"Mr. Man, we have a problem. Mommy doesn't have a penis, so this is all new to me. How's about we make a deal - when daddy gets home, we can ask him to teach you to pee like him, until then, pleasure have some pity on your mommy and pee like me, ok?"

thankfully, he bought it.

I promptly retreated back to the living, and called the root of all my problems. "I have a bone to pick with you, you pee stander..."

Where's the Nanny? A slice of SAHM life...

"Hush little baby, don't say a word..."
Miss A's eyelids flutter closed as she nuzzles into my breast and slowly drifts to sleep while I nurse her in the rocking chair in her room. Her lullaby music is playing, and I find myself contently humming along, stroking her silky cheeks and staring dreamily at her face.
My ears perks up when out of nowhere I hear the cry of my oldest, Mr. Man, shouting enthusiastically from the living room "I pooped in my potty! MOMMMMMMMMMMMY!! I POOOOOOOPED!"
Knowing I had only moments before he climbed the stairs to make his proclamation in person, I hastily broke Ainsley's latch, and tried to carefully roll her into her crib without waking her up.
"Moooooooommy!" I hear, the culprit getting perilously close, I suspect almost to the top of the stairs at that point. I draped the blanket over Ainsley's form, noting with dismay she was beginning to wake up.
"shit shit shit" i think to myself, dashing to the nursery door and yanking it open moments Logan can bang on it
"shhhhhhh big guy, baby's sleeping!" I manage to admonish, just as I hear the tell tale whine from inside the Nursery. Dammit dammit dammit!!
I send Mr. Man back downstairs, after a quick butt wipe and a high five, reminding him again to PLEASE stay downstairs so Miss. A can nap. I re-enter the nursery to a very upset little girl, the abandonment allegations shining fresh in her red rimmed eyes. I scooped her up, placing kisses on her cheeks and apologize for leaving her while I dealt with a poop smeared butt. I reassured her that as much as she disliked being alone in her room, missing out on the the smell of toddler poop was preferable! Being only eight months old, I'm quite my words were not as reassuring as my reappearance in her world.

Desperate for a solo shower, achievable only once one child was asleep and the other bribed with a Thomas video, I attempted to rock my little girl back to sleep. Attempt being the key word, little girl was having none of this, thinking her earlier two second slumber was good enough and she wanted to rejoin the world now, thank.you.very.much.mother.

Withholding the swear words that were threatening to burst forth from my lips, I resign myself to another few hours of pit stink. I trudged back downstairs to real life.
They had to sleep eventually, I reassured myself. Afternoon nap time is only 4 hours away!

It's a Whole New World!!!!!!!!

Look MA! I can stand! oh wow, what a new world!



Can't you just see her little mind working "the couch...there's stuff on it! Why didn't anyone tell me about that? Now the toys options are endless, what do I play with first?!"

That's right folks, my baby is growing up. And while I am prouder than a nobel prize winner, I have a deep dark secret to admit. And admit it I will, right here on the world wide wed. the internet superhighway. the vast html void.
The first thing I thought of when I saw her do this was "well shit, the couch is no longer a safe place for the remote control".
Prime mothering moment I will cherish forever.

Things I never dreamed I would ever say

*Please do not put your finger up the cat's bum, he doesn't like it.

*No, i promise the cat does NOT like your finger up his bum.

*Please do not put your finger up your own bum.

*Please do not use your penis as a button. That cannot feel good.

*See how mommy pees on the potty? Isn't that FUN?!

*Underwear does not belong on your head.

*Please do not pee on your sister.

*No, I am QUITE sure she does NOT like you to pee on her.

*...or poo, oh hell no.


Potty learning has brought a whole new dimension parenting vocabulary!

Bedside table of a pregnant woman

No, I'm not pregnant. oh lord let me not be pregnant. I'm not. I swear. I don't think...ok, i'm not. yeah, let's go with that. Not pregnant. But, i have been, twice, which means I am without a doubt knowledgeable about being pregnant. And with this knowledge comes the knowledge of the bedside table of a pregnant woman. And when you are housing an 8 lbs little person, with it's 20 pounds of baggage, you need everything within reach, and within reach is the bedside table.

For example


Note the Tums bottle. No self-respecting pregnant woman would be caught dead without one within reach. Especially with the promise of long periods of being horizontal. Being horizontal is not fun with heartburn.

And the water. The cruel twist of fate pregnant woman are subjected to is increased thirst, and decrease bladder room. You do the math.

And the book. While I'm sure not all women are/were as interested in Natural Childbirth as I am, hands down there is a labour/breastfeeding/newborn book on their nightstand. For me, natural was the key, and this book was great. I read it a few times actually. And made notes. And highlighted. And then promptly forgot all about it during my homebirth. Go figure.

Wowza

Talk about not blogging! ! Look at my lackluster blogging here, way to be a gemini woman. I'm all about the instant gratification, thinking whatever I write will be so gut wrenchingly funny people will email it to their friends, and their friends will email it to their friends, and so on and so on until my blog gets a million hits and I'm on Oprah. Not that I have an ego problem or anything. I'm just a gemini. with red hair. But I digress...

What was I talking about again? Oh right, this blog...I get going, and then get distracted by life and my other blog, then get discouraged that nobody reads and then stop writing. My apologies to my loyal and loving fans. Or Fan. or....wait, can there be a negative fan number? I was never good a physics. Or math for that matter. What, 1+1=2? I think not. it's been my experience that 1+1=3, but since this is still a realtively PG site, I won't go there. yet. Ratings to be reviews. How's that for a paragraph ? Paragraphs should have something in common, right? i was never one to follow the rules. But right, blogging, that's what i'm talking about. I think. Remind me, oh -1 reader? Geez, so much for showcasing that $40,000 worth of prime education, I can't ven write a paragraph!

SO since this post is random at best, and psychotic at most, let me tell you a story of something I saw today.

Scene: country road, me in my trusty loser cruiser with girlfriend asleep in back. The boys are back at home.

"Boom de la la, Boom de la la, shake that fancy butt..." that's me singing. I like to rock out in the van. I'm cool like that.

All at once, my olfactory senses are assaulted with a smell we all loathe. Skunk. ewwwww. ALL together now children, "EWWWWW".

Up ahead I see a cyclist, she appears to pulling over in the gravel shoulder...and slowing down...and stopping, getting off...bending over...wait a second, she's not...she wouldn't, she...EWWW! she picked up the dead skunk, EWWW kooties!!! She walks the skunk over to the ditch, gently places the carcass in the ditch, crosses herself and says a prayer. over a skunk. riiiiight.

That's my story. Having written it out, it's actually not as funny as I thought it would be. I hate when that happens!

I double dog dare you!!

Go on. I dare you. I double DOG dare you. You just cannot help yourself but smile when you see a butt this cute.



see? i told you so. You're smiling. Just admit it, don't fight the power dude.

Living where I live

I'm pretty much a scaredy cat girlie girl. I don't *do* scary things. I just don't. No crazy roller coasters, no adrenaline junkie needs, no addiction to horror movies (am I the only one in the world never to have seen "the Blair Witch"? I think so!). There was that unfortunate time in High School where crazy roller coasters were the cool thing, and I admit to being a sucker for peer pressure, but that's it.
I am also not a fan of scary real life things. Like bugs. And snakes. And spiders. And tornadoes. You know, stuff that HURTS. Cause that's what it boils down to. I don't like pain. Which is just a wee twisted when you think that I fought hard to HAVE a homebirth. You know, *without* drugs. But I never said I was normal. or sane!

With this all in mind, it's a good thing I live where i live. We don't have much scary stuff 'round these parts. No poisonous creatures lurking in wait to sting/bite/inflict pain. Not much in the way of scary weather either. we're pretty safe. it's nice. I personally quite appreciate it. Thank you mother nature for making this wee bit of heaven for us scaredy cats!

Which is why yesterday was a bit unsettling. Crazy monsoon rains, hail, strong winds. I would have handled them all with practically no hitch in me step except for the fact I was in the van. With my family. On flooding roads and to completely understate it, bad driving conditions.

like this


and this


And you know it's scary when people are fighting to park it under a bridge.


Don't worry about us though, I had Dude pull over and we safely sat out the storm. The kdis slept through it all, and I had fun taking pictures. But still... AHHHH!

I want to be Two again.

Seriously. Two looks like such a freaking fantastic age. I can't remember being two (how unfair!) but seeing it from this side of the fence makes it look like so much fun. When he's not driving me to drink or experiment with the latest mood mellowing drugs (kidding..yeah, kidding) he's making me laugh. And laugh. And laugh some more, and thanks to two natural childbirths, maybe pee a little. or not, i ain't admitting to anything.

Take a minute and think about being two. Imagine, if you will, the thrill of racing through life not caring that you're eating your shorts...


the liberty of dressing however you want, and thinking you look seriously h.o.t


having people feed you


wearing horizontal stripes...


actually choosing to wear glasses


having someone else pay for your obsessions...
(in Mr Man's case, a raging case of train-ism, specifically Thomas the train-ism)


Not wondering if this outfit makes your butt look big...(those horizontal stripes strike again!)


and knowing, without a doubt in the world, that you are loved unconditionally, quirks and all

tales of summer

Mr Man has made some great friends in our neighborhood this summer. They are always coming to ring the doorbell and ask if he can come out to play. It's the cutest thing in the world, i just can't say no!

yesterday we all painted, and i don't how he did it, but Mr Man got paint in places I give him double credit for. I mean, really! Ear canal, nostril, top of his head, and obviously all.over his clothes!!


He didn't mind :D

If I only knew...

what thoughts are bouncing around in my little girl's mind.

"What *is* that smell?!"

"Why does my mommy keep sticking that shiny black thing in my face?"

"Where are my clothes?"

"Does a(bxc) +d/e = e+ c(axb) -d ?"

wouldn't you like to know?



I would

to.sleep.the.sleep.of.a.baby

My baby girl is a dream sleeper. She sleeps. Alot. Through alot of noise. an dmovement. And her two year old brother poking he rinthe eye. But that's a story for another day.

This is how she sleeps


and this


and this


She's good at it. She's even cute while she sleeps. I know I can't pull that off. I drool. It's not pretty. it's not dry either, but I bet you already knew that. I also snore, and hog the bed. I have a very understanding husband. But of course he's a blanket hog, so the whole bed stealing is one of those "which comes first, the chicken or the egg?" questions. Do I spread out in bed, leaving him to grab the blankets and roll over, or does he grab the blankets and roll, leaving me to follow the blankets across the bed? We'll never know. Well, we'd know if we were awake, but since the problem is sleep, we'll never know. Basically, we are well matched in bed. He snores too. But I digress.

Thankfully, she's a good sleeper. She puts up with both of our snoring. Of course, she's inherited my bed hogging, so it's now me clinging to the rails. oh how fun, i have a new respect for my husband!

My deep dark secret.

I'm going to let it all hang out there. I'm going to let it all hang out there because I know I am not alone. I know there are others out there like me, others out there trying to hide the same secret. The secret that slowly drives us insane, that makes us fear everything from a gust of wind to a surprise visitor. The fear of discovery. We fear...people will see...



this.

"This" being my guest bedroom. Oh the horror. Oh the HUMANITY!


"This" was also the room I stole away to to write papers and work on school work (I earned a B.A. in Political Science in December). How I wrote papers is also a mystery, one I will save for a later day.

"This" was also the room destined to become my baby girl's room, and if you've been reading along, you'll know she was born in April.

I kept promising myself I'd deal with all of that....stuff...after I was done school. January rolled around, like it's bound to do, and I kept putting it off. I hemmed, I hawed, I whined, I complained, I gnashed my teeth...I added to the dysfunction :D
Valentine's rolled around, and along with it a bigger belly, and even less motivation. Add to the stress of planning my son's second birthday party, and the general third trimester party-in-the-belly, and I was not getting it done.

I admit, I freaked out a bit. Just a wee bit. ok, maybe a lot. yes, I freaked out a lot. trips to IKEA, Home Depot and Zellers followed, and I was motivated. I purged, I filed, I packed away the good stuff. I got it done. Boooya!


I am pleased to report, "this" no longer exists :D It is now a pink and brown polkadot dream room. And she's slept in it....never at all. Oh the irony!

*knock knock* anyone out there?

Considering this is a public blog, and one that I hit more than everyone else combined, it probably isn't the best to post too much of a cache post. But, well, it's my blog so I will if I wanna. K? If that's all right with you, of course. Just gotta make sure. You sure? ok then, just checking...one last chance...speak now of forever hold your peace!

SO tonight's little ditty steams from the book I just recently put down, so recently that the pages are still hot from my greedy little book worm hands. It was a great read, but then again there are so many great reads out there. For me, the ending is always the saddest part. It doesn't matter if the book's ending is so happy you wanna barf rainbows. It's just that it's over. and that's sad. why yes, i do know I'm a loser, thanks. This newest book held true to form. I could hardly put it down, which of course interfered with a little something I like to call my life. You know, the 2 kids, husband, cats, friends, house, toilets...all that require my attention. and love. and some semblance of eye contact, which is hard to do when you're trying to speed read a book! The nerve of those kids, wanting me to feed, and bath and be with them. The words were calling me!

I'm hoping this addiction isn't only mine. Are you out there? a support group for book junkies? Hi, my name is red, and I have a reading problem. I can't stop. Once I crack that spine and catch a wiff of that soul stealing new book smell, i'm done. Stop the presses, cancel the plans, my nose isn't coming up until I have devoured every word of that book. Sometimes more than once. It's an addiction, and it's a bad one. I stayed awake until 3am last night guzzling up as much as my weary eyes could comprehend. All while laying next to my three month old who without fail wants to eat at 6am. I don't function well at 6 am. I function even less well at 6 am after 3 hours sleep. I know this, I accept this, but i just couldn't put that damn book down!

Logically, I know that when i close the book, the story freezes, I won't miss anything, unlike those unwanted potty breaks at the movies (I learnt this horrid lesson trying to watch movies at 9 months pregnant while drinking those ginormous movie theater drinks. bad combo). I should feel ok putting down the book and seeing to, oh I don't know, the children maybe, without feeling this overwhelming urge to run right back and keep going. But logic doesn't work. I am an addict. Am I the only one?

And it's not one specific brand either. I will read, and be absorbed, by anything with words. Murder mystery, fiction, biographies, fantasy, romance (give me a throbbing manhood anyday, oh baby!), you name it, I will read it. Or already have. I've read Hardy Boys, Dan Brown, Patricia Cromwell, Marian Keyes, more than my fair share of royal bibliographers...I have no niche section, I am proud to roam the bookstore in every section just waiting for a book to jump into my hands and demand to be taken home

The sad part is I cannot stand library books. Which obviously makes my addiction a bit on the expensive side. Especially when friends fail to return favourite books, making me re-buy them so I can read the best parts again.




So world, here I am, baring my literary soul. My name is red, and I have a reading problem!!


BTW, I highly recommend "Glamour" if you are into chick lit. very good.

My future-son-in-law

2 day hiatus was put to good use.
My best friend gave birth to a beautiful baby boy Thursday afternoon in what has since been declared a superbly fantastic amazing amazon birth. Well, *I* declared it a superbly fantastic amazing amazon birth, and since it's my blog I get to do those kinds of things!
Not only did she give birth without any pain meds, but she was out of the hospital and on her way home 2 hours later. Yes, I did say two hours. As in 120 minutes. and...well, I have no idea how many seconds and I am way too lazy to find a calculator to figure it out. I don't do math. I do politics.
But I digress...
So not only did she give birth without pain meds, and go home two hours later, but she also decided to stop off at her husband's baseball team's game, just because she could. I mean, really, this woman is AMAZING.
I am part of the priviledged few who was invited to meet the new little man during his first few hours breathing air, so when I got the phone call that the main show was all over (I did get quite a thrill to be getting a "It's a BOY!" phone call a mere 25 minutes after the big event) I immediately packed up my own family to make the 2 hour trip out. Talk about double time, I had the husband, the boy, the girl and all their accessories in the loser cruiser in 45 minutes flat. I am just that good. But before my lack of modesty throws you off, I admit to forgetting some pretty important articles. Mainly Baby boy's welcome to the world presents. *sigh*. I can't be perfect you know. Hate to break the carefully manicured image I've presented, but alas there it is. To redeem myself somewhat, I report that I did remember to search and find the nursing bra that my best friend wanted. It's made with bamboo. It's a little slice of heaven for boobs. I should know. I have 3 :D
Seeing the sweet addition to her blonde family made my uterus ache all over, even while holding my own almost-new addition. Hearing her wax poetics about her awesome empowering birth made me lust to relive my own amazing birth again. I am getting all nostalgic again thinking of how amazing birth can be, my own daughter's included...She was born at home.
I'll give you a second to digest that and pick your jaw up off the floor ;) I'm used to that reaction. Ok, ready to keep going?
I planned, and got, my homebirth. It was so amazing words just cannot describe it. It was earth moved under my feet good. It was an intense, earth shattering experience, one that I don't think anything could top. I cannot wait for the day that I can tell her about it. It was so fast that the midwife was here only 10 minutes before she was born! I couldn't have dreamed for it to be better. I had my husband by my side, and my two best friends there. One of whom is the above mentioned new mommy! One of these days I'll share my birth story. It's a must read.

And with that I need to run,my son is in need of some mommy love.

Married not buried!

There are few things sexier to me than an accent.

An Australian* accent to be exact.
Today, I found out what makes an Australian accent even sexier - a man, with an Australian accent, babywearing a toddler, and playing with his older child.

*swoon*

Seeing a man involved in play with his kids makes me smile.
Seeing a man involved in play while babywearing a younger child makes my heart go pitter patter.
But a man, involved in play with his kids, while babywearing and talking with an Australian accent, makes me spontaneously ovulate.
Oh dear god it was all I could do not to rip my clothes off and ask him to father my next child! Don't get me wrong, I adore my husband (and am quite done having children, than.you.very.much). But that accent. that babywearing. that interacting with his children. in public. on a weekday. It was almost too much for my poor hormonally charge body to take!




Mmmm, Australian accents.



*to be specific, I rate my favourite accents as Australian, followed by English, Irish, Scottish, South African, French, Italian and Spanish. Please note that while I speak german, like german, it is not that sexy of a language, nor is english spoken by a german. A german accent has it's place though. It is great when you want to please an audience, for example!

My son

I do love the little butthead, I really do. He is hilarious, energetic, cuddly, intuitive, entertaining, flexible, and has an insanely giggling-inducing sense of fashion.


He's also a Pieces, which fits the little water lover perfectly.


He is not without special talents


And he is definitely not without temper tantrums


Books are a favourite activity, if you can get him to sit still long enough (high chairs and car seats are my secret weapon)

I know what you're thinking though. Could a little boy this cute always have been this cute? Well, I'll let you in on a little secret.


Dude had a little bit of a rough start in life when it comes to head shape...

Those were the days

This is a fun picture


I took it last night at the drive in movies. Yes, that's my son. Yes, he's driving my van. Yes, he is out of focus. Yes, I did that on purpose.

Now look again. Look behind the incredibly cute, adorable, handsome lad that i know you wish was in focus. Have a look at the red car beside us. Look closely. Look even more closely. Now blink. And look again.

Do you see it? Do you notice? Do you? keep trying, I'll wait here. I can hum the jeopardy song if you'd like, I can entertain myself.

Do you see it?

*snort* the young lovebirds beside us have put up blankets to "screen" their front seat. lol, i mean really. They got an A+ for subtlety, eh? hahaha! I sat there, watching them put this little cocoon together, and just giggled to myself. Oh to be young. Oh to be in love. Oh to think sex in public was fun.

I did briefly think of popping their cherry...errr...I mean balloon, and letting them in on the secret that they weren't fooling anyone, but I didn't.

I also could have shared with them what pregnancy can do to your ass. But I didn't.

As tempted as I was to share stories involving watermelon size heads, hemorrhoids, blue twinkies, morning sickness...I didn't.

I remember what it felt to be young. I'll let them learn the rest all by themselves.

In the meantime, I'll take pictures of them and post them on the internet. Children, you weren't fooling NOONE!

Nostalgic

Good times, good times. I've been browsing through my online photo albums, having a hoot unearthing photo from way back in 2004. I've had a great run of fun times, good friends and grand adventures in the past 4 years. I came across this photo though, and just fell in love all over again with the light and the architecture


I remember how the building just seemed to glow, it was a very magical moment, even to one as cynical as me!

It was taken in Chicago, on a trip I just cannot believe I went on! A group of women, none of whom any of us had every met IRL, decided to do a get together. And meet. in person. in chicago!! I drove 12 hours with a good friend who was also in the group (ok, so I lied, I did know someone! lol) to be there. It was an amazing weekend, I think of those women often, and how all our lives have changed since. I was 3 months pregnant with my son at the time, as was another one of the women (our sons were born a mere 20 minutes apart!), so this trip had extra special meaning.

We did alot of fun things.

The ferris wheel was a huge hit

6 women giggling like pre-teens!



Another album I stumbled across was a camping weekend with a good couple friends. Interestingly, the weekend I would up pregnant with my son, but we won't tell him that. Ok? sound like a plan? Just you, me, and the while wide world, I'm sure he'll never find out...
The night I got pregnant...I mean the first night there (work with me here people!) we had the most beautiful sunset



If you are thinking our tents were a little close, remember that the copious amounts of alcohol containers consumed are not visible, so nobody was hearing anything! And then go wash your mind out with soap, you dirty gutter mind you!


Another album I stumbled across had pictures from a Blue Jays game


hey, they were free tickets!

and yet another from a cottage weekend


Which looks mighty inviting next to this goody found in yet a while different album



Looking through old photo albums is definitely going to stya on my list of things to do on a slow thursday night!

Nobody can do it like a baby

Sleep that is. Nobody can sleep like a baby.


The beginning yawn is so precious. They put their whole body into that yawn, their whole body mind and soul. Nothing in the world matters wen there is a yawn brewing. the yawn is the master.

Oh course, nothing is cuter than that butt stretch babies do after the cutest yawn. It's a one-two punch of cuteness.


And then they sleep
They sleep how they yawn. They put their whole body into that sleep; body, mind and soul. They entrust their whole being to you to hold and protect while they...while they...just are. When baby's sleep, they just.are. I want to sleep like that again, I want to just collapse in a heap and just.be.


I wonder if they make a drug for that?




Too bad they don't make a drug for the smells that the parents contribute. "Ewwww, daddy, really! I was busy being cute for mom's camera!"

Happiness is...

Diapers drying outside




The pretty colous just swaying in the breeze brings a smile to my face.



It's like a garden of flowers...




...for my kids butts.

They wear their gardens so well


and like flowers, my eldest seems to think outside is the best place to be, with or without me! If you'll excuse me while I go chase my half naked toddler out the front door...

Grand adventures

I don't know about you, but there are certain places that I could visit over and over again without getting tired of them. This is one of them.


It's a gorgeous place, even the drive there is full of grassy fields and old stone farm houses. Lovely to watch fly by as I lean back and rest my weary head (did I mention the two kids yet? weary is an understatement). And seriously, whoever invented 5-point car seats is my hero. Sure it's nice the kids are safe, yada yada, but we all know the real reason parents love car seats. it means that the children.are.contained. WOOT WOOT! No trails of toilet paper in the living room, no clothes pins dumped in the front hall, no milk all over the kitchen floor (none of this from experience...er....right). The children. Are in. One Spot. HEAVEN!! But I digress....

There is the most fantastic scenery nearby, lovely trails, great shops, excellent food, and of course interesting things to take pictures of. And let's face it, taking pictures is the only cheap thing on that list, and as a SAHM with two kids, cheap entertainment is a must!

Take this bridge for example. Unfortunately, it's no longer there, the powers to be got rid of it last summer, but I got a few shots before they tore it down, those cold hearted bastards!


Who cares if it was a safety issue, it was great for photography! I should write a letter, yes, I should. That's what a good canadian would do :p

Or...yeah, let's be frank (or george, or selma, whatever floats your boat), I'm way to lazy to do that. So i'll just blog about my misery at the loss of such a cool photographic...thing.

ok, moving on now (nothing like a short attention span to make you smile), beside the now-no-longer bridge was some old abandoned buildings. they were fun to take pictures of, in a weirdly scary and sad way.

kinda like a ghost town....BOO!! hah, did I get you? no? well, you suck :P






and because I don't want to end on that note (I'm a gemini, I'm all about the dual personality!)

SMILE!
Meet Elliot. If a wee puppy can't wipe the ghost town form your mind, you might need more help than my little blog can provide :D