Saturday, June 28, 2008

Too sexy for this blog.....

Oh readers, if you could have seen me this past week. Or heard me. You'd have thought I was so smoking hot. I mean really, truly attractive. You would have been hard pushed to look away and find something hotter.

How does it get better than someone like moi, laying flat on their back in extreme pain, coughing and hacking up a lung? I sound like someone with TB in the old Westerns.

You know you want me right now.

I had so much more to write but it is stinking hot outside and in today and I think I sweated out all my motivation. Perhaps tomorrow will bring cooler temperatures and a newfound desire to write more of my book and blog away.

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Wednesday, June 25, 2008

A bittersweet day....

Dear Mrs. Shortt,

Ever since I found out I was going to be a mother, one of the biggest decisions I wrestled with was over that teeny tiny matter of education. For years, I vowed that I would homeschool because there couldn't possibly be a school or a teacher that could live up to my high, yet uninformed, ideals.

Then, a friend told me about Rogers and I began to rethink things. Quite the dilemma...a life of instructing the children myself and losing a great deal of hair from the stress, or handing them over to a school that had a great reputation and hoping for the best. For the sake of my sanity and the mortal well being of the kids, I chose the latter and registered Ash at the school. Meeting you at the New Parent night gave me another glimmer of hope that my baby girl might actually do ok on this journey.

Over the past year, I have seen Ash continue to grow in fantastic ways. To have her come running from her classroom with a huge cheesy grin on her face, looking as pleased as can be, saying "Guess what Mrs. Shortt taught us today!", gives me a great feeling inside.

To know that you have dedicated your life to teaching these most precious gifts that are our children is wonderful, but to know that you also have made time to love and teach each of them individually is especially great.

You have given my beautiful daughter a fantastic beginning to her school life. I still remember my first teacher and I have no doubt that 20 years from now, Ash will still be talking about "Mrs. Shorty Pants who lives on a farm".

Thank you for loving my daughter. Thank you for encouraging her extraordinary love of reading and showing her how to enjoy and excel at the rest of her academics while still taking the time to play.

Most of all, thank you for being such a wonderful person and amazing teacher that all of us parents love.

We'll miss seeing you every day next year. We may have to bribe the administrators to get CJ into your class when he's ready.

Best Wishes
M & C

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Monday, June 23, 2008

I'm having a party........

These days, we hear a lot about the negative effects of television on our children and their brains. If your child watches more than a certain number of hours of TV in one day or week, then you might as well hit them hard over the head and render them comatose. What these studies don't mention however is the television's extraordinary ability to act as an electronic babysitter. Those robots from the Jetsons had nothing on a tv. It has been awhile since I found myself in need of such services from our ancient tvs but that all changed today.

This past weekend was fun filled and hectic. We are fast entering birthday party season for the kids and their friends. On Saturday, Ash's little buddy was turning 6 so off she headed. When I appeared to pick her up, I fast discovered that my darling spawnette had been the only child at the party to not partake in the Slip 'N' Slide or the sprinkler, despite having her cute little bikini on under her dress. Ash has this irrational fear that she will melt like the Wicked Witch should she come into contact with the tiniest droplet of water. There are days when her behaviour is so ass sucking that I wonder if this could perhaps be true, but alas it usually proves to just be yet another quirk in her rapidly expanding portfolio of oddities.

Sunday - Hotty Hubby and I discovered very quickly that we had somehow switched positions in the night, as we had clearly both woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Punchy doesn't even begin to describe the way we were both acting. Grumpiness aside though, we headed out for breakfast at Denny's for what would prove to be one of the worst ideas of the day. The restaurant was packed, and as a result we drove around the miniscule parking lot no less than 5 times looking for a spot to slide our car into. This was made all the harder with Hotty Hubby pretending to be rational ("Why don't we just go to Alzu's instead hon?) and my pretending that I am not the stubborn bitch that I've always been proud to admit to being ("I said we were going to Denny's and to Denny's we're going DAMMIT!).

Parking spot found, seated in the booth (could those booths get any friggin' smaller?!) and both kids decided that this would be the most opportune moment to annouce that should they not get the milkshake that they demanded, that our lives would not be worth living. I pretend to be this big hard ass about things like this, but quite honestly when it's a choice between a measly milkshake or World War 3 in a packed Denny's, I choose the first.

Kids fed, Hotty Hubby stuffed, we headed off for yet another birthday party. The daughter of some good friends of ours was turning 4. She is one of the most adorable children. It was technically a pool party and so after multiple assurances to Ash that she would not in fact melt should she dip her toes into the heavily chlorinated water, she was suited up in yet another bathing suit. CJ assured me he wanted nothing to do with the clear blue depths that were so transparent they could possibly be hiding a monster of the deep, so his swim shorts were abandoned at home.

Needless to say, the children take after me far more than I might care to admit on any given day, and have reserved the right to change their fickle little minds at a moment's notice. CJ absolutely must go in the water. I may have mentioned before (like about 2 paragraphs ago) how stubborn I can be. I would not go back to get his swim shorts......and so he swam in his cute little Diego underoos. When I say swam, I should probably clarify that what he actually did was paddle his feet, sit on the top step in the shallow end and scream like a dying banshee if anyone tried to get him to past his shins in depth.

Two hour party and off to the ball field. It was the last T Ball game of the season and then closing ceremonies at 5pm. Except, closing ceremonies didn't happen at 5. Or even 6. Such is the disorganization and stellar time keeping skills of us bunch of volunteers. We do our best, but sometimes that's just not good enough. Finally at 7pm, the ceremonies started and as they worked their way through the older kids giving them their trophies and ribbons, our poor little T Ballers were falling asleep on the field. CJ was falling asleep on me in the stands. By just after 8, we'd finally managed to convince them to give the little ones their medals and send them home.

Unfortunately by this point I'd been sitting out in the sun for almost 8 hours. While I had the presence of thought to smother my face, arms and chest, I sorely neglected my back. I have a lovely circular shape burn on my back now with the incredibly attractive bonus of a white patch in the shape of a bow from the laces on my shirt.

And the party that I'm having? Well it's a pity party. And you are all invited. It's a BYOP party so no hogging the sympathy. The reason for said party? Ahh......that would be the incredible debilitating pain in my back. Seems that to add insult to sunburn, my body has decided to revolt. I have a fantastically bulging disc in my back.

If you have never had one of these, picture the feeling of 25 samurai swords simultaneously stabbing you in the back while a 40 pound toddler swings from them as you make a futile attempt at walking. Then, when you tire of this little project of walking and try to sit down in a chair, you will feel like all those swords have been removed. This blissful feeling is lulling you into a false sense of security though, because the moment you try to stand up again, you will wish desperately for a ninja to pop out in front of you and slay you on the spot.

Laying down in bed is about the only comfortable position, hence the advent of the electronic babysitter. The spawn were under strict instructions to remain glued to their sets until next week rolls around or until mommy could walk, whichever came first. And so there they sat til Hotty Hubby returned home from work. I'm pretty sure they threw in some sleep time, some reading and some bed jumping as well, but as long as they weren't jumping on me, I was happy.

As an added bonus, and more material for my pity party, Hotty Hubby had a date to go out with "his boys" tonight. Under normal circumstances, this is a normal Sunday/Monday night occurence. I think tonight though, I was harboring some secret desire that he would stay home to take care of his poor invalid wife. And when the words "I'm sorry but I can't let down the boys" came out of his mouth, I advised that he run as fast as the wind to get out of the house lest I go all Exorcist on his ass. I haven't yet been able to decide if this is a sign of comfortableness on his part that he feels brave enough to utter such things in my presence or if it's a sign of complacency on my part for not caring enough to pick a fit over it.

Either way.....I have one word for y'all....OWWWWWWWW!!!

And to think I just typed all of this with my laptop balanced precariously on my ample bosom. I knew there were advantages to a large chest.

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Friday, June 13, 2008


After 11 days of no posting, you'd think I could likely do better than this, but this is what I was thinking about this morning.

The other night, I went to see Sex and the City with a very dear friend of mine. I had heard multiple reviews of it, and it seemed to me that what people were saying was that if you watched the show you'd love the movie. Otherwise you would find yourself wanting to dig your eyeballs out with a spoon polished in monkey piss.

Well here's the thing folks. I watched the show sporadically over the years that it was on, but was never the huge over zealous fan that many people were. I didn't freak out if I missed an episode, I never taped it, and if I didn't watch for an entire season it wasn't the end of the world. But even given all that, I loved this movie!!!!! So much so that I feel it deserves 5 exclamation points apparently.

Back in the day, when I thought I was above it all and knew everything at the ripe old age of 16, most of my friends were guys. I had gone through a few years in high school, where all girls seem to in their prime as far as bitchiness is concerned, having a good number of my friendships not work out the way I had hoped they would. But hindsight being what it is, I can now look back and realise that a good portion of these people are not ones I would want to associate with nowadays anyway.

The boys were just always easier to deal with in many ways. If there was a problem, they said what it was and then moved on. Us girls? Well, we could make things go on for an entire year if we wanted. That's just how girls worked. Let's torture each other and see who caves first. Thing was, I never went in for that. My mother told me recently that I always gave it one more try and then I'd walk away, rather than waste my time with something that wasn't going to go anywhere. It's something I've always done.

Over the years, my quest for great girlfriends has continued, and I have met some wonderful gals who have filled in parts of my life that I didn't know needed filling. We've laughed, we've cried, we've been there for each other. Some of these friendships are still thriving, others have gone by the wayside. Sometimes it's my fault, sometimes theirs, sometimes no ones.

I don't consider myself one who needs friends to be happy, but they are nice to have around. I am quite happy to sit and read a good book, but equally as happy to be asked out for drinks or dinner with the girls.

This brings me back to Sex and the City. A quote I often see plastered in funny places is this one from the show:

Maybe our girlfriends are our soulmates and guys are just people to have fun with

I don't know if I would agree with the quote entirely but I do agree that women have a very unique relationship with each other, especially once you find women that you really click with. And that is a relationship that is displayed in this series and now in the movie. Those four women are incredibly close, and there is one scene (stop reading if you haven't seen it) where sweet timid little Charlotte looks like she could rip the scalp of Mr Big and feed it to the crocodiles in the New York sewers. All because he hurt Carrie.

I have some fantastic girlfriends who have been there for many years, and hopefully for many years to come. I also have some newer ones that have become very dear to me, and it's a comforting feeling to have these girls in my life.

If you haven't yet seen Sex and the City, I suggest you do. You'll laugh, cry and get angry all in the space of 2 1/2 hours. So grab your girlfriends, and go have a night out. You won't regret it.

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