Christmas meltdown

So after the last 2 days of sappy Christmas cheer I am all out. I have officially gone on strike!!

The laundry is still not done. I don't care. I will wash what I need and that is it. I will no longer be picking up dirty Nathan clothes and if Camryn wants hers clean, she better remember to put them by the washer. I will, of course, continue to wash for Ryleigh as it is not her fault that the rest of her family are a bunch of ungrateful buttheads. Darian is already in charge of doing her own laundry.

I have had no help with wrapping gifts. I have had the fortune of having Nathan haul them around for me...all the way down the hallway. Poor baby. It is no wonder he needs to rest so much, what with all the physical labour.

I am tired of baking cookies. It is fun but last night I had to clean my oven and now have to wipe it out in order to finish baking. Would it be bad if I went to the grocery store and passed off store bought as my own?

And now here it is, 4:00 and I have no idea what I am making for supper. I totally forgot that I have to feed my family tonight. I have nothing taken out of the freezer and really don't want to make a mess in the kitchen that I have now cleaned about a hundred times this week.

Nathan is on call at work tonight and has to go out to finish his shopping, so I can count on him doing absolutely nothing around here. I guess I have the fun job of going out and shovelling away mile high windrows so that we have room to park vehicles in front of our house.

BAH HUMBUG!!!

I should go now...I have an oven to clean out....and laundry to do. It would be so much easier to be on strike if I had no kids. I don't want them to be disappointed.

My Christmas Poem.

Twas the days before Christmas and all through the house
everything needed cleaning...even the mouse.
The laundry was piled in the basement, waist high
with hopes the laundry fairies buried beneath wouldn't die.

The baking is not finished, there are presents to wrap
still shopping to do, how do I fall into this trap?
The kids are counting the days left of school
then they are home for 2 weeks!!! Now, please...thats just cruel!

My parents are coming, my brother and Jen
with all of them here I'll need a beer, perhaps ten!
We'll eat turkey and ham, potatoes and corn
and have all the leftovers for breakfast, Boxing Day morn.

For all the complaining in this little poem
without all the ruckus, it just wouldn't be home.
I'll hold my breath while my girls open gifts
and play with our baby, we'll all take some shifts.

Christmas is coming, work must be done
but in the end it pays off with a day full of fun!
I love my family, my husband, our life
and wish in the end that we could do it all twice!!

Does anyone know the meaning of Christmas?

Tonight is the girl's Christmas concert. Every year I look forward to seeing my children up on the big stage belting out Christmas tunes that I have never, ever heard of.

Then I get to the school. All the excitement drains from my body like a soul sucking leech is stuck to my big toe. First off there is never anywhere to sit. The school gym is crammed like a can of sardines with parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, Billy's second mother's brother's dog's babysitter who picks up Billy from school, and the inevitable drunk who makes an already bad smelling gym worse.

I find myself standing in the back of the gym craning my neck over the giants who only ever seem to come out at Christmas time and insist on standing in front of me...little me...as opposed to in front of the other giant who is a few inches taller.

Then the concert starts after the incoherent ramblings of a school principal with a heart of gold. I watch as the cute little kids put their hands over their eyes looking for their families, both their immediate family and their so distant family, they could marry. Meanwhile the giant shifts his weight and I am now staring at the crack of a giant ass, while the drunk is stumbling out of his seat to pee....again.

This continues for unknown song after unknown song, until finally my girls are up!! The soul sucking leech has had his fill and is taking a break as now I can feel excitement welling up within me. I see my girls march proudly up the stage stairs........only to see them disappear behind the offspring of the giant standing in front of me!!!!

By the time the drunk sits back down and the giant shifts his weight to the other foot, the song has ended and I see the top of my children's heads as they stand up from their bow!!! Now comes the dilemma. Do I leave now or wait until the end of the concert?

The answer comes to me in a flurry of activity. The drunk is not feeling well and has lurched out of his seat for the door. The giant also sees this opportunity and bolts. I am finally standing with a fine view of the stage. The leech has moved onto bigger and better things (the giant, or maybe the drunk, I don't care at this point) and I am so excited I could pee my pants.

All the excitement pays off in the end. My girls take the stage with the rest of the school for their big finale. The giant and offspring have left the building, the drunk has decided to camp out in the bathroom until their child comes looking for them and I am left, tears in my eyes, with "the best seat in the house". My children sing their hearts out, with their hands over their eyes looking for me. I wave, and they wave back. They proudly take their bow and exit. The curtain closes.

All the parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and even Billy's twisted relatives rush for the door. I take a moment to drink in my children's performance one more time in my head while I smile and I know what Christmas means to me. My children. Thats it. They are Christmas.

Life Resumes

YEAH!!! YEAH!!! YEAH!!!

I FINALLY have my house back!! I never knew that the sweet sound of silence would be so welcome. There is no snoring, no loud, heavy, I'm about to have a heart attack on your couch breathing, no burping, no farting, no ear-picking, no Smiley-Ryleigh. NO DEL!!! Woo Hoo.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the man. But I do appreciate him much more from afar. I love that he loves my kids and the whole creating my husband part but I do not love sharing my home with him (or anyone else for more than a few days at a time, just so you don't think that I am only prejudice to fathers-in-law).

Now I begin my mission of cleansing my house. This is the slight case of OCD taking over. I have already stripped the bed right down to the mattress to wash. If the mattress would fit in my washing machine, it too, would be cleaned. I am airing out the smell of old man in the bedroom as we speak. My feet are freezing as I sit here typing but it is a good freezing. A Del-free freezing.

Oh happy, joyous day!!! How I thought you would never come.

I can happily prace around my house in my birthday suit. I just had it washed and it is ready to make an appearance. My baby will not be yelled at with any words that rhyme with her name. My couch will again be able to breath.

And I will once again have unlimited access to my computer!!! Lovely machine that it is. Perhaps I will be able to set up my new Mac Mini.

I am going to rejoice in the deafening silence of my home now. For the few days that I will have it before my family comes.

See this same post from Nathan next week!!!

Since When Was School So Hard?

I apologize to my fans (Cammy, Rachelle, Jay....shouldn't I be rich by now with all these fans?). Anyway.... I thought that when "the girls" [Darian and Camryn, my older daughters...for the new fans...(I can hope, can' t I?).] went back to school that my days would be smooth sailing...wake up...feed baby...sleep...feed baby...sleep some more...feed baby...and so on and so on.

Well that is the way it works...UNTIL... the kids come home from school. I forgot how much homework I had to do. "Please read to your child...who can read to you...who can tell you what a bad parent you are because their teacher told them that your parents should read to you every day for at least x amount of hours per day...

Don't get me wrong...you all know that I value knowledge and I am a stronger advocate for going to school now than I ever was when I actually should have gone but...GIVE ME A BREAK!!! I DIDN'T DO THIS MUCH HOMEWORK TO GRADUATE OR FOR ANY OTHER REASON!!!

oh wait a minute....I never did graduate. But I did get "accepted" by an institution of "Higher Learning", that does count for something, does it not?

Anyhow...the whole point of my rant was that now that my older children are at school being "edumacated" I think that I have to do more homework than I ever did before!!! It is my responsibilty to make sure that they recognize that they are emergent writers and that they recognize when they make the jump to nobel prize winning novelist...it should be somewhere in between the two, but I have to tell them.

At the recent "Meet The Teacher Night" I learned that my children will be and are smarter than I am... and that the difference between an emergent writer and a nobel prize winning writer is what they know and what I know and that I am supposed to know what that is and if I don't recognize when or what that is and when that it is happening...well then...my kids are going straight to hell...or at the very least, detention and they are not going to graduate.

I can't wait until Ryleigh starts school....

The Art of Self Replication

The more that I look at pictures of Camryn the more I am convinced that Nathan and I did not conceive her together.

Nathan somehow just planted his clone inside me to incubate for 9 months.

Look at the picture....do you see any Nancy in there? I don't!!!! Look at that nose...that has Schmuland written all over it. (The picture of Nathan and Ryleigh is added purely for comparative purposes).

This picture was taken today after Camryn finally let me "yoink" her tooth out. She wanted to let it fall out all by itself. I think that it probably would have held on for days which wouldn't have necessarily been a bad thing as the Tooth Fairy does not get her E.I. cheque for another week.

How Sad Entertainment Has Become

Since I have been home I have had the opportunity to watch insane amounts of television. I have seen countless amounts of commercials that make me laugh, commercials that make me shake my head and thousands upon thousands of movie trailers.

Some make me want to go out and spend my children's university funds to see the movie, they just look that good. Some make me want to spend one of Nathan's paycheques and go to the "cheap" theatre and others are "wait for the dvd" movies.

But there has been one movie trailer in particular lately that has even made me check out the movie website....wait for it....wait for it....is the anticipation too much for you?




SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!!




Has our North American culture been so creative that we have worn out all of the good movie titles? Or are we just too damn lazy to even want to think of anything creative?

The first time that I saw the trailer I seriously had to wonder whether or not it was a joke. I have seen joke movie trailers on some of the better television channels that were mildly amusing. I thought this could be one of those funny jokes...ha...ha...ha. But soon the ha, ha, ha's and wakka, wakka, wakka's turned to confused looks on faces, tilted heads and a great big "huh"? It was a "blink, blink, shake your head" moment.

I came to the realization that, indeed, SNAKES ON A PLANE, is a real movie. With a real actor in it. Samuel L. Jackson must have some sort of community service to do. That is the only logical explanation for such a talented actor appearing in what appears to be a Dr. Seuss book on crystal meth.

Well it is time to go....the bank is closing and I need the kid's RESP's. SNAKES ON A PLANE starts this week.

Black Holes and Purple Nipples

I have been thinking and thinking the last few days that I really must post a new entry. I would have loved to been typing as opposed to the way that I have spent the last few days.

Where to begin....how about saying up front that I think that I must sacrifice something, someone or whatever is necessary to the the breastfeeding gods. SOON!!!

While pregnant I was very much looking forward to breastfeeding. After an initial breastfeeding bump in the road while Camryn was a baby everything settled down and went smoothly until I decided that I wanted my boobs back. Having a pleasant experience with Camryn, I figured that the third time would be a charm. WRONG!!!!

Ryleigh began her life by sucking cracks the size of the Grand Canyon into my nipples. This was so painful that I had to go on a hunt in the middle of the night to buy a bottle with which to feed my 5 day old baby. At that point in time, I would rather have had hot daggers stuck into my eyes.

After deciding to temporarily bottle feed my baby, put away my daggers and turning off the stove that I decided that I better get some help from our friendly health nurse. She taught me how to shove my whole, rather large, nipple into my tiny baby's mouth and lo and behold it felt better. It is amazing how much better breastfeeding feels when done properly. Anyway....after successful feeding the last few weeks...the Grand Canyon size cracks have healed and all is well....

Until a few days ago. I thought that the mild pain I was experiencing was due to the fact that I had not been as diligent about applying the ever important lanolin cream, used to keep my nipples youthful and supple. So I starting again with the lanolin. And the pain got worse....and worse...and then my nipples started to look old and haggard. Red. Hot. Sore. Dry. The list could continue.

Back to the friendly health nurse. She asked me if anything was growing on my nipples. What? Isn't that my baby growing on my nipples? Isn't that what the previous pain was for? To grow my baby? Apparently something else can grow on nipples. I did not know this. Yeast. Yeast is apparently growing on my nipples and I don't like it one bit. And it grows fast!!! I was in excruciating pain by yesterday afternoon after having seen the friendly health nurse the day before. The pain was so frightful that I became the queen of internet self diagnosis and an expert in researching nipple yeast treatments. At that point if someone told me sticking hot daggers in my eyes would make me feel better I would have turned the stove on.

I read about this wonder drug called Gentian Violet. Sounded like a good idea, no stove required. I demanded Nathan's credit card and was on a hunt for the stuff. I came home with a huge bottle of the purple nectar (it was all the pharmacy had and I didn't want to look any further) and hopes of relieved nipples. I had read that it could be messy but I was determined to be very careful when applying it.

The first step was to treat Ryleigh's mouth. Sounded easy enough. Dip Q-Tip into bottle; insert into baby's mouth. One thing they forgot to warn me about was the fact that it would make my baby's sweet mouth look like a gaping black hole. It is quite scary to have your baby screaming at you with a black hole. Thank god she doesn't have teeth. A black hole with teeth would be terrifying.

The second step is paint your nipples. Easy. I am so happy that I never went and spent money on nipple pasties. Bright purple is a very flattering color for an enlarged chest. Did I mention that if it gets wet it rubs off and stains the skin? Not only are my nipples purple....so is my stomach...in 2 round spots approximately2 inchs lower than my breasts (when standing).

To sum it all up...the last few days I have had a black mouthed baby who has turned purple from her nose to her chin, purple nipples and purple polkaroo spots on my tummy. I have not had a shirt on except to go pick up my car and have just discovered that I may have to paint my baby's bum as well.

I will have a baby with black holes at either end. Lucky for me...no teeth.

Pathetic, Lame and Totally Disgraceful

I really need to get a life. I have come to the realization that I really need to uproot my ass from my couch more often.

Tuesday, as we all know was August 1. The first Tuesday of the month....that magical day when certain grocery stores give you 10% off your purchase just for choosing to spend your money there (or in our case, as we have no money, racking up Nathan's new credit card....but hey we are getting Airmiles with which to flee creditors). I was excited at the thought of having food in my house once again. While the 5-6 days that we ate out last week were a welcome change it is time that I fed my family once again with food cooked lovingly from my heart. (Who am I kidding....I can't cook with a baby hanging off my boob....food cooked begrudingly by Nathan after a long day of work).

As the excitement of going grocery shopping built throughout the day a horrifying thought entered my mind....it's Tuesday...blink, blink....night of the mighty reality t.v. shows. Big Brother 7: All Stars, Last Comic Standing....ROCK STAR: SUPERNOVA. How could I go grocery shopping when I can witness the greatest invention of this generation....reality television? Ahhhh, thank god for the second greatest invention of this generation....PVR!!!

As I sat down to feed my parasite I have named Ryleigh, I set the PVR to record Rock Star: Supernova (which I only watch to fantasize about Jason Newsted, even with the Lyle Lovett hairdo), so as not to miss any minute of it after we left. We watched some of the show before Ryleigh was done and then went on our merry way, confident we would see bad rocker chics butcher classic rock tunes.

Upon arrival at the magical grocery store I realized....with a sudden panic and wide eyes....I had forgotten to set the PVR for the rest of my shows....we needed to abort the grocery trip and return home at once!!! Nathan did not agree. I had to shop...he made me...but I made him buy me ice cream...the kind I like, as revenge for missing my shows. At this point, I refer you back to the title of my post....

Well, I survived missing my shows....I sat down to watch Last Comic Standing at 11:00 on the B.C. channels (I love the pacific time zone) and then realized I was bored and did not care to finish watching. I got up to kick Nathan off the computer so that I could check on Big Brother....drat....they have not posted the update yet. How was I to sleep not knowing who won the Power of Veto? So as not to keep you in suspense...I slept comfortably (for a few hours) knowing that I would find out what happened on BB7....the Newfies....they are my saviour.

They replay Big Brother the day after original airing....just in case they have to go grocery shopping too....

Is it September yet?

Darian came home from a 5 day camping trip with her friend yesterday. It was the first extended trip that she has taken that was not with my parents. I was a little nervous all week about all of the things that could go wrong while she was gone. Of course, she returned fine and all in one piece. I felt like I had just given birth to her again. I had to count all of her fingers and toes to make sure that she was complete. I am neurotic and that just proved it. I am unsure why I was so worried about her though. As according to my father I already ruined her by letting her sleep on the opposite side of the wall from where I had my 13 inch Zenith television. The radiation....it could have killed her. I wish I could remember if I counted her fingers and toes when I did actually have her (I was pretty drugged up)...maybe she was only born with 4 fingers and toes on each appendage and the television radiation caused the 5th one to grow....guess I will never know.

Just for Cammy

Well, I have been told on more than one occasion that I should have a blog....so here it is. Personally I don't think that I am interesting enough but who am I to disappoint my fans...(winkin' at you Cammy).

This is just a test post so it will be short besides it is too hard to type with a baby hanging from my breast.