What I made today

I'm feeling quite pleased with myself today. The Spicy Beef Patties (a Canadian Living recipe) I made this morning turned out beautifully. I had to make some adjustments, mainly in the spicing as my family (ahem, husband) does not particularly enjoy spicy food and the quantity of dough, which I find is never quite enough as I make the patties smaller than is specified in the recipe. I hope the kids like them too. The last time I made them, Connor liked them, of course, that was then. They freeze quite well, which is a good thing. The last time the ravenous horde (aka my lovely sisters) descended on us unannounced, they complained because we had nothing to eat. This should appease the bottomless pits that are their appetites.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...

...bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens... Today was Liam's first real thunder and lightning storm and as you can see, he was not impressed. He did not buy our explanation that the clouds were arguing over who could make the most rain and he was not impressed with Dad's explanation of hot and cold air masses. The only thing that seemed to make him feel better was hiding out underneath the kitchen table.

Eventually he agreed to move up to the safety of Mom and Dad's bed which was much more comfortable.

It was an exciting weekend for the boys. Nana came to visit and brought cool toys with her. As usual, since Nana was here they both acted like perfect little angels. I'm sure I saw both of them give me a wink at one point, just to let me know that they knew that I knew that it was all back to normal the minute Nana got in her car. And, of course, they delivered. But not until after we brought them to Toy's R Us so we could buy Connor a bicycle with the money Auntie Dizzy gave him for his birthday and to spend the gift cards that Grampa Gordo and Grama Lynn gave them for Christmas. Yes it's been six months since Christmas, but it's not like they know any different. Anyway, they each picked out two presents each which they have been fighting over ever since. And since they still have over half the value of the gift card left, we can do it all over again. Weeee!

Thanks Auntie Dizzy

My Three Closest Friends

To my homey's in Cell block C...

CRT, that is. As you have probably already figured out, I won't be in again today. Thanks to a wonderful grab bag of pills I was able to sleep for most of the night, unfortunately I still woke up feeling like I'd been harpooned. Bern is trying to find me a massage therapist to see today. Sadly it will not be Madame Cleo's. I don't know, they look legitamate. They even advertise in the Yellow Pages.

Tell the Warden that me and my harpoon will be in tomorrow. I may look like Tony Montoya at the end of Scarface with a mountain of pills in front of me (instead of coke), but I'll be there.

If I had $9000 I would so buy one of these. Ok, if I had $9000 I'd pay off my line of credit and my visa, but if I had $9000 after that, then I'd buy one of these.

Naproxen, Cyclobenzaprine, and Tylenol 3's, Oh My!

What a difference a day makes. Sunday morning was sunshine and giggles. Father's Day. The promise of relaxation and feasting. Then I got out of the shower and had a railway spike hammered into my neck/shoulder. A railway spike covered in glass. A railway spike covered in glass and wrapped with barbed wire. Rusty barbed wire. And it's electified. Ok, maybe that part was all imaginary, but I'm trying to explain what it felt like. Did I fall getting out of the tub? No. Did I fall down the stairs that morning? No. Car wreck? Stampede? Struck by a meteorite? No, no and no. I just got out of the shower and started drying off. Next thing I know an electrified railway spike is sticking out through my chest.

Needless to say, I didn't go grocery shopping Sunday. Or to the inlaws for the birthday party/father's day barbeque. Instead I sat at home watching an American Choppers marathon while sitting on a dining room chair I'd dragged into the living room. Why a dining chair? Because if I'd sat down on the couch I wouldn't have been able to get back up again.

I woke up last night just after 2am because it hurt to be lying down. It took 20 minutes for me to get out of bed without screaming and waking everybody up. I've been up since then since I can't lie down and nap. There's not a lot on tv at 3am on a Monday morning. Bern managed to get me an appointment today with the doctor. He prescribed a whack of pills. Most of which are in my system right now. A little action please! Bern said I should wait to see what the other stuff does before adding the Tylenol to the mix. Whatever, I want my epideral and I want it now!

A lazy Sunday morning blog about nothing

Well, lazy for me. Bern is busy making chicken wings for this afternoon's Father's Day/Connor's Birthday celebration. Whatever, it's Father's Day, I'm entitled to sit on my ass and do nothing. It's expected, I think. Anyway, nice work, hon, can't wait to eat those later. The boys are busy playing with their new Spider Man camera's which apparently are the greatest things ever. EVER. We're talking Hope diamond/Arc of the Covanent/Moon landing greatest things ever.

New paragraph. Not because I've thought of something new, but because since I finished the last sentence I've had to put a new tray of chicken wings in the oven, stop Liam from throwing a plastic bowling ball at his brother and explain to Connor that he is twice as big and twice as old as his brother and can simply take back the toy that Liam supposedly stole and hid from him even though I know perfectly well Liam has not even seen the said toy today. Run on sentence, possibly, but again, it's Father's Day and I feel no need to recognize the requirements of sentence structure or basic punctuation. In short, bite me.

I'm trying to eat better these days but my usual breakfast of Activa and Tony's Turbo or Vector cereal just wasn't calling to me. Actually, chocolate birthday cake was calling to me, but the boys were already up and that wouldn't be setting a good example. Sure I could have hid in the bathroom and wolfed it down, but the door doesn't lock and I'd have to hold it shut with one foot and the whole thing just wouldn't fit into my lazy Sunday mode. I opted for Eggo's instead. Hmm, might have to opt for a couple more too since the first two don't seem to have filled the gap. I do have a large eat-fest for the rest of the day, but the rest of the day seems a long way off right now.

See the plant beside my coffee cup? That's the Thai basil Bern got yesterday from Art Knapp's. Site of yesterday's....
I just helped Liam up into the chair beside me. He found a cup somewhere and filled it with water from the cooler. Now he's gulping it down and choking. I patted his back and asked him if he was ok. He said, "Yesh... fine." Oh, and now he's back with more. And more coughing. Don't worry buddy, the motor skills will come with time. Anyway, I planted the basil in a pot which is right beside me and it smells really nice. That was my accomplishment for yesterday. Wait! No, I put a lawn mower together yesterday. How could I forget? I decided to give up on the push mower. It's great for the environment and all, but since we only get one day of sun a month the grass grows far too high for the push mower to get through. Then I end up having to pay the kid next door $15 bucks to do it with his gas mower. Kinda self defeating. Anyway, I now own a Gardenia rechargable lawn mower. I was originally looking to get a Black and Decker or some other brand name one since I didn't want to take my chances forking out the big bucks on something from a company I'd never even heard of. Not that I hadn't heard of Gardenia, I'd just never seen this particular one. Then I found out Gardenia is German. Well, hell. Anything from the people who brought us Mercedes-Benz, Porsche's and the Wehrmacht, you know it's going to work well and for a very long time. The blades are so sharp I cut myself just looking at them. And best of all, the instructions were not written by anyone Swedish! (Ikea)

Ok, I've rambled enough. It's a lazy Sunday but we still have to get the kids out of the house and get the grocery shopping done. And nobody is going to shave my head for me this morning. Hmm, unless I can get Bern to do it for me...

Head trauma and chocolate icing

So sad. You just want to kiss it all away, don't you? Well, if the little dumb ass (I mean that in the most loving way possible) had just climbed into his car seat like he was supposed to he wouldn't have fallen out of the back of the van while Mommy was opening the rear door. If he hadn't been running away from Daddy then Mommy would never have had to open the back up in the first place. We're not really sure where the head injury came from. It was either his head sliding down the rear door as it was lifting or an instant of contact with the Art Knapps parking lot as Mommy was catching him. Kudos to Mommy for a great catch too. Might have been a hospital visit without those lightening reflexes.

But as terrible as it all was, we came home and helped Mommy make Connor's birthday cake and all was forgotten. And by helping I mean eating chocolate icing out of a bowl so they'd stay out of Mommy's hair.

Liam the Terrible

My Mom called tonight asking what Liam would like as a present next time she comes to visit. Liam only has one criteria for his toys at the moment: can it be used a weapon?

Madre de Dios!

Sure it's all smiles and giggles in this shot, but what the image doesn't show you are the tracks of fat alligator tears down Liam's face. The snot on Mommy's sleeve because we didn't have any kleenex. How is it that shopping for a new pair of shoes is more traumatic than getting a needle at the doctor's office? What's the deal with that? The wailing and ululations could be heard across the mall. Probably from the parking lot. And why? Because Daddy changed Liam's pair of size 6 and a half shoes to size six to see how they fit. Not to a different pair of shoes or anything, but the exact same shoe. You'd have thought I'd taken his stuffed frog away and lit it on fire in front of him. He got his 6 1/2's back. Couldn't put him down to put them back on because of the emotional stress we'd put him through so he had to clutch them to his chest instead. Then it all started up again when the sales girl had to take them away to ring them in and remove the security tag. His attachment to these shoes is so deep he insisted on napping with them. He's the gift that keeps on giving.

Damn

Damn, originally uploaded by zoo.keeper.

Look at the pretty signs. Look at all the colours, how nice they look against the green of the trees and the grey of the sky. Some kind of message about.... something. Turns out the City of Vancouver, BC Transit and the Vancouver Police Department all take these signs seriously. A friendly constable gave me 75 serious reasons why they do. So where do I get to send my bill for all the extra gas I have to use get through the freakin' RAV Line construction every goddamned day? How about that? I know, maybe they can give me a break on a transit pass for a route I can't use. GO GREEN! Hey, go to my ass and kiss it!

Holy Sh*t!

DSC01508.jpg, originally uploaded by zoo.keeper.

Sunday night around 9pm Connor wakes up and starts making noise in his room. I'm downstairs on the computer and can't hear him. Bern is just getting out of the shower and figures she'll just ignore him since he's been asleep for an hour and will probably just fall asleep again. Then she realizes he's saying "pee pee, poo poo." Well, that's different. She takes him into the bathroom and off he goes. Apparently he's been storing it up like a chipmunk for a week or so because it's a non-stop poo-athon. You know how ants can carry something like ten times their body weight. It was kinda like that. I won't go any further.

At the same time all of this is happening, in fact, from the moment Bern went into his room, he has been talking. Talking and talking and talking. About everything and anything that's passing through his little almost 4 year old brain. We're talking a stream of consciousness monologue that would make James Joyce proud. He's talking so much that he demands Bern come down and get me so I can share his brilliant insights on everything. Keep in mind that while all this talking is going on HE IS STILL POOING! Coming out both ends? Ya, we know what that means.

Anyway, the epic diatribe/bowel movement eventually finished. We cleaned him up, put him back in bed and he fell asleep almost instantly. We'll miss him when the mother ship comes to take him back to his home planet.

My genius son...

Liam said 'terrible' last night. He's two. And he said it perfectly. I know what you're thinking, "blah blah blah, every parent thinks their child is brilliant." Ya, well fuck you. My child is brilliant.

Allergy season, day one

F*cking pollen.