Am I a morning person?

may 25 130, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Nope.

OH HELL NO.

Not, might I say, in the least. There is barely anything redeeming about mornings. There's the sluggish feelings, the overwhelming decisions - clothing, shower, beauty products, finding matching socks, and then the food, finding food to feed to not only yourself, but multiple little ones is daunting to say the least.
Not to mention you have to Make, and then wait for the caffeine to KICK IN! Oh the humanity!

Not being a morning person was fine when you are a teenager - hell, it's expected.

What I want to know is when being a morning person all of a sudden became cool. Desired... sought after and worst of all - expected.

For the record, waking up beside this little munckin in the mornings is the one redeeming quality.

29 and holding

Saturday was my 29th birthday. My first 29th birthday. You see, I've been doing a whole heck of a lot of thinking lately, and I've decided something simple. My twenties have been good to me - I graduated University, got married, had 2 babies, bought a house...yup, twenties have been good! Twenties have been so good I decided I just won't leave.

So next year, on May 23rd, feel free to wish me Happy Anniversary.

This lady ain't going anywhere near 30.

I've got to wonder though...Do I get chocolate cake for my "Anniversary" parties? And presents? I sure hope so. And no diaper duty. And breakfast in bed. Because all of that this year was rockin'. My husband did well.

To go, or not to go

That is the question.

I'm about to date myself here. I'm a bit scared, so you'll have to promise me you'l still love me when you find out how old (young) I truly am.

I got an invitation for my high school 10 year reunion

yup.

10 years.

In case the math is deceiving you at the moment, that makes me *almost* 29.

Hey - don't think like that - back when I was in High School, Ontario had a standard 5th year of high school if you were continuing on to University. Dudes, really. Like I would spend more time in High School than absolutely necessary!

Ok. So. the invitation. ugh. To go or not to go.

Thoughts? Experiences? Next post tomorrow I'll expand on my high school experiences...

I was in the band.

I went to band camp.

I was a camp counsellor at band camp.

I played the Baritone and Trombone. No flute, thank god.

I played on the tennis team, soccer team, was on the yearbook committee.

I drank for the big parties, never did drugs or smokes, went to 3 proms with 1 limo and...

I married my high school sweetheart.

I know, i am a conundrum.

But I had some great friends

Maybe....

may 9 018-1, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

if *I* could fall asleep while eating I wouldn't be stuck with eating carrots and lettuce trying to loose weight.

Someone pass the sedatives please!

So I sayz to it cheese, "Fuhgeddaboutit!"

may 9 016, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Some days, I don't cook lunch.

*gasp* *shudder* *faint*

I know, I know, I should go to the box and feel shame.

Some days we've been out all morning running errands, and some mornings we've been inside in our pajamas the whole time. And yet other mornings...wait, is there another kind of morning?
Well, regardless, somedays I just can't bring myself to cook. So we make smorgasborgs.

I love me some smorgasborgs.

A smorgasborg is pretty much whatever you want it to be. In this case, it was some veggie chips, cheese, olives, grapes, pickles and yogurt. Sight unseen was the hard boiled egg, but that never lasts long on a plate! I try to hit as many food groups as time, and my fridge, will allow. And it takes all of 5 seconds, which could be argued as being an even better quality as nutritionally equipped some days.

Try it. You'll love it.

The tongue has it.

may 4 011, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Very nice, son, thank you SO much for sharing. SO much. How did you know that your tongue, in all it's glistening glory, was exactly what I needed to see. Seriously, how did you know? Cause I sure didn't know, but now I know. Know I do.

What is with my children and tongues? I swear my co-parent, sperm donor, husband o'-mine has a normal tongue, as do I (promise). So where oh where do these tongues come from?



Please tell me I'm not the only mother honoured in such a way. You have kids who do this too, right? RIGHT?! Anyone, anyone? Bueller, Bueller?

Look! Look look look!!

It's so exciting, i could pee my pants. It's the kind of excitement that keeps you up at night, gets you out of bed in the morning and makes you want to call every contact in your address book.

It's spine tingling, leg jiggling, teeth chattering, tummy tumbling, hair raising, toe curling, finger flexing, lip smacking, thigh clenching... pure, unadulterated joy.


People...

I found my vacuum


Thank you.

How I do breakfast sandwiches.

I like wearing my pajamas. I like it alot.

A real lot.

The problem with that is I also love the Coffee shop phenomena know as breakfast sandwiches. Oh yum, oh super super yum.

But being a pj lover makes getting my own breakfast sandwiches difficult, seeing as how I'm the new girl on the block and don't want my neighbors to *know* I'm a pj wearing SAHM. Just because the mail man, appliance repair man, tile guy, garbage man, gas guy and Newspaper girl know, doesn't mean it's ok that my neighbors know, ya know? Good, I'm glad you followed the logic on that one. It's simple, I swear.

So where does that leave little old me? PJ clad but with nary a sammie in sight. It's sad.

So I fixed it.

HOBOY did I fix it, yum!

See, i discovered this lone, sorely neglected roll of pillsbury crescent rolls (yum).

And then I found some cheese. And leftover blackforest ham.

And a light bulb went off.


yup, i did that. And they were goooood.



But I didn't stop there.

And if you can keep a secret, I'll tell you. Shhhh, this is between you and me, k? ok.

I made chocolate ones too


It was only logical that I sprinkle some sugar on the chocolate ones, you know, so I could tell them apart when I go to put the leftovers away (haha, leftovers, I so funny)



DEAR LORD were they good. oh man, the melted cheese, the hot ham, the light and fluffy and buttery goodness of the bun....
yeah. YUM.



hey, it's not a Julia Child's recipe. But dammit, it's good.

It's spring, it's spring!!!

There is life in them thar plants! And green in them thar grasses! YAY! Colour! Smells! textures!!

I'm a good canadian girl people, I promise. I do winter, I actually *like* winter. I skate, I cross-country ski, i build snowmen. I especially like the hot chocolate and chili parts as well.

But dudes...SPRING!! It has sprung!!







It's time to kick off the winter boots and frolick outside, have some green grass tickle fests, break out the soccer balls and bust out the golf clubs.

I'm so happy.

And while I'm happily snapping away picture, I turn around and find these crazy two, doing....


wait, what the hell? What ARE they doing? It's a man thing, isn't it? This whole open mouth thing? No self-respecting woman would do that, right?

Smile and nod damn you, smile and nod.

Thank you

Guess what I did today!!

Go on, guess. Bet you can't get it. Nope, not this one. This one is good. well, actually, it's bad, but it's a good game.


Today, I discovered sunshine in my basement. Sunshine coming from the HOLE in my main floor.

Nope, not kidding


Hello Sunshine! Where dd you come from? And WTF are you doing in my brand new house?!

Oh. I see how it is. You came to torture me.
And prove that new houses do indeed contain much crappy craftmanship. damn you


Someone along the way thought it would be a good idea to cut TWO vent holes in the sub-floor by my front door. And then install only 1 heating duct. And leave the other hole just hanging out. Because it must be cool. AND THEN some tile guy thought it would be a very cool idea to just, you know, TILE over the hole!! YAHOOOO!! I mean, why not, right? Tile was design to just float on a bed of mud and mesh, it doesn't need anything strong underneath it to keep it from cracking, right?

No?

oh.

oups.

Not surprisingly, my angry voice conveyed itself remarkably well over the phone as I had workmen at my door minutes later to fix the "issue". All in all, it only too them 6 hours to fix it. Not bag for a bunch of men actually!


We can thank my 3 year old son for finding the hole in my floor. Don't even get me started on the nightmares playing through my head of everything that could have happened with such a jagged sharp tile and no sub-floor. Imagines of blood and broken bones and babies crying haunt me. And will be haunting the builders and tile company when I am through with them, don't you worry.

It's catching, you'd better run far far away

may 4 152, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

And it's not the Swine flu either people. Errr, sorry, I mean the hiney flu. You know, H1N1? yeah, not that.

It's the baby bug.

And Miss A totally caught her Uncle and his significant other hook, line and sinker. I mean, *I* know she's adorable and wonderful and everything that is perfect in a baby, But now they know it too. And she loves them for it, because really, who doesn't love being loved?

Miss A's Uncle, My brother-in-law, is a cool guy to begin with. I've know him since he was knee high to a grasshopper, so it's been very cool to watch him grow up. And grow he did. Dude is now a pro hockey player way on over in Germany, which is sad since my kids don't get to see him often. Practically never. But it's happy because he's doing something he loves, and gets paid....well....rather well for doing it. AND because he doesn't even know of my little blog, and I have no intention of EVER telling anyone I know IRL about this beauty, I can nickname him anything I want. So I will. Bombshell best friend likes to refer to him as hot uncle S, so that's what he'll be. Not that *I* think he's hot, because dudes, he's my little brother-in-law. I knew him pre-puberty. But, yeah, he's Hot Uncle S.

But I digress. This is about Hot Uncle S (he is hot though, eh? I just didn't say that). No, it's about the baby bug that has infected Hot Uncle Simon and his significant other, who doesn't have a nickname yet, sorry. She's a pretty awesome person too, but i'm still getting to know her as she's been in Germany with H.U.S (did you get that?) since they started dating 9 months ago. But so far? Two thumbs up. She's cool. And she plays with my kids, and genuinely loves them, which means she's very cool. Maybe she should be the cool maybe-auntie (CMA). that's a fun name, eh?

ok, I digress again...lol

They were smitten.
HUS couldn't get enough of Miss A's cheeks. CMA couldn't get enough of the cuddling sweet smelly soft baby. And Miss A couldn't get enough of them. She was feeling under the weather, so everyone was happy with the snuggle time. She snuggled, she giggled, she held on tight. Basically she made is to they had no choice but to fall hopelessly in love with her, and the idea of babies in general. It's the baby bug curse in all it's glory. There is just something about holding a warm soft cuddly baby that makes you spontaneously ovulate.

And for the record, I am not to be held responsible if these two procreate any time soon. The blame for that lies squarely on Miss A's pink-clad shoulders.

I'm so sorry Hot Uncle S and Cool Maybe Auntie. But I do so look forward to cuddling your babies! Just please have them in this country, k? thanks.

My little Dolphin

april 30 024, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

has a wee problem. Mr. Man, you see, does not like relaxing. Mr. Man does not relax people. Mr. Man jumps. runs. rolls. skips. climbs. He does not relax. Yet his swim instructors seem to think this skill is absolutely necessary for swimming.

Now, seeing as my preferred method of relaxing in the water involves an alcoholic beverage and some form of air filled plastic device, I might not be qualified to be an expert on relaxing in water. But really. A three year old, relax, in water, when there are toys nearby? I think not.

Of course, you could also ask my son to take a picture.

See the little girl beside him? See her pretending to take a picture of the instructor? And then do you see Mr. Man, eyes squished shut, hands over his face? Well friends, he too is pretending to take a picture of the instructor. A la Mr. Man. I'm guessing the instructor's idea to get them to see, and understand, how she wants them to float was lost of my boy. Yup, I guess so.

But hey, he's three. And he's cute.


He could get away with murder.