Sunday, when I should get off my ... and do something productive

Hubs: "I had a dream about you last night", nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

Moi: "Oh yeah? I had a dream about Bradley Cooper."

Uproarious laughter.

Hubs: "Was he clothed?"

Moi: "Yes, fully."

Hubs: "How unfortunate for you."

I love my husband.

******
Mama, can you type in "www.horsedoctor.com" on the computer?

Why, have you played a game there?

No, I just want to see it.

Check it out. There's a beautiful xray of a human knee, as far as I can tell.

Maybe we should buy the domain.

*****

I took the girlie to the Mall for my emergency purchase of new glasses. I needed an opinion, and who better to accompany me than a 5 year old fashion plate? Especially as I didn't have contact lenses to wear and I can only see clearly about 2 inches from my face without optical apparatus.

I short-listed a few, and it came down to Prada, Persol, and Ermenegildo Zegna.

The Persol were geeky chic, but too big for my face.


I put on the EZ pair:

To which the girl commented:

"You don't look like my mommy."

A gentleman standing next to me said, "Well, that isn't good."

I looked over at him with a smile. And then I recognized him. Guess who?

Dr. Joe. The Parenting and Life Counsellor, regular contributor to Cityline. Canada's answer to Dr. Phil, perhaps (I bet he gets that all the time, whether he likes it or not.)

Lest my daughter develop major psychological issues based on my choice of eyeglass frame, I think it was prudent that I went with Prada.

The big reveal will happen later this week.

Friday Fragments - Stuff

Don't forget to check out the home of glorious Fragments( Mrs. 4444)

*****
My glasses broke yesterday. Not just the screw part - the plastic elbow.

Has anyone ever caught that "Twilight Zone" where the earth was pretty much crumbling and a librarian, who had been in the bowels of the shelves in the building while this was happening - came out to discover that no one was alive - except him. And that was all he needed - himself and all those books. And then he tripped, his glasses fell off and they shattered. The world became a huge blur.

Sing it with me: "Doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo"... Yeah, deep doo-doo's.

That's what I felt like.

I krazy glued it, but now am a little concerned. I don't have a spare (except an old pair of "Mrs. Beasley" looking vintage, which are pretty beat up by chlorine from swimming lessons with the kids), and only about 3 pairs of disposable contacts left.

I've been putting off going to the optometrist (well, not putting it off, just couldn't find the time and didn't want to admit that I couldn't really see too close or too far anymore...DANG the small text on children's medication!!!), but now I can't.

I need new glasses, and fast. I can't afford a twilight zone moment after next week when I'm travelling again.

Doo-doo-doo-doo...

*****

Costco is evil. I said it before, and I'll say it again.

Does a family of 4 really need this:



to finish off in 3 days? 15 for the price of a dozen?

Apparently yes.

8 microwaved seconds to paradise each and every time.

*****

Why, it's a soccer-game free weekend - yippeee!!!! Only Sunday, Monday, Wednesday practice this week. Rejoice, (well, until Friday when it's back to back with Saturday).

Those Rum and Cokes that hubs has been making have helped.

****

Speaking of travel, isn't this lovely?


Stereo Love - Edward Maya & Vika Jigulina - Official Video found on House

*****

Have you ever contemplated eating right from a pan - just so you have one less dish to wash? Not a small pan - like a friggin' wok?

The depths that I have sunk to...

*****

That's all she wrote for now. Neither quality or quantity today, but c'est la vie...

Friday Fragments - Simple Things

Don't forget to check out the home of glorious Fragments( Mrs. 4444)

*****
Well that was certainly cathartic.

The boy's face is fine. He's all smiles again, with a bit of a shiner and a story to share.

Today is another day. Let's celebrate the simple things.

*****

I noticed something the other day. Something quite wonderful.

My daughter doesn't just walk. She skips - everywhere.

Oh, the pure joy of being a happy 5-year old little girl.

*****

Speaking of stories, the one thing that I look forward to when my husband comes home from his work trips, (other than seeing him, of course) is the colourful tales he has to share about his adventures.

After boarding his flight last Friday, and getting settled into his seat, he noticed this odour in the cabin. The odour of someone who'd had beans or something unsettling for breakfast, apparently. The passenger in front of him turned to his wife and made a grimace that showed his displeasure of the stink as well. My husband just tucked his nose subtly into his elbow as his defense mechanism.

You would think that would be the end of it, after all, one expects some level of dissipation at some point.

However, throughout the rest of the flight, the smell was relentless. The wife of the passenger in front even took out a small spray bottle of perfume/deodorizer and gave it a couple of pumps. My husband kept his elbow close.

After the plane landed, the pilot announced: "Welcome to lovely Chicago, folks"...

and the fellow in front of my husband piped in "... and whoever has been shitting their pants the whole flight, let's have another just for good measure."

My husband could barely contain the guffaws. Even while telling me the story.

****

Colourful number 2:...

After the man had settled into his hotel, he headed over to the convention centre to check things out. He looked to his phone, to see if there were any messages any of his colleagues. On his Blackberry screen he saw a trail from one of the guys from his office, and decided to continue the text conversation (in blue below):

Hi, you all settled in?

Yeah.

So do you want to meet for dinner?

Actually, I'm meeting some friends for dinner later on.

So do you want to meet for a drink before, maybe?

No, I'm running a bit short on time.

And then he noticed this colleague way over on the other side of the auditorium...

Hey, I see you over there, don't want to shout across the room...

No, you don't see me.

Yes, I do.

I'm in my workout gear in the gym at the hotel.

No, you're not. Is this Mike?

No, this is Jane.

JANE, his FEMALE colleague from the U.S. office.

Oh my frickin' gawd. She probably thought this guy was going middle-aged conference crazy. My man, he's smooth, isn't he?

****

The girlie promptly had a tea party with her Daddy last night, just before bed. And she brought it over and shared it with me as well.

I don't really play with my kids. I just realized this - I shop for them, I feed them, I bathe and I clothe them, I talk with them... but I don't play with them a heck of a lot.

But my husband does.

So I've resolved that I need to make the time to play.

Simple things. Wonderful things.

Let's play.

The longest bitchiest post evah...

So welcome to your weekly KarenMeg bitch session.

Someone stop this bullet train - I sorta wanna get off...

*****

5:30 AM last Friday - the man gets up to pack for his trip. Guess who else is up as a result.

"Oh shit, I forgot to pick this up. Do you think you can do me a favour and get the stuff later today when that place is open? Wait, let me check and see if I can catch a later flight...no, there aren't any more...so can you do me a huge favour and get them today and send them by Fedex so I can receive them on Monday?"

Yeah, sure, like I don't have another 10 million things to do.

"Okay. But you'll owe me big time."

So at 6 AM after the man's taken off to the airport, I'm surfing the net to figure out where the closest Fedex depot is, and also to figure out my itinerary for how I'm going to get this stuff done in the period between work and my hair appt (yes, since I haven't had one in forever) and get to the kids on time.

After all, we have a soccer game that night.

*****

And then soccer on Sunday. And then soccer on Monday.

Piano on the Tuesday - but I let them play hooky. Not really for them (although since they hadn't practiced all week, it saved me some money), but more of a reprieve for me. I had to get to the gym to work off the stress. Tuesday was a good day, actually, Kids got their progress reports - the Boy got all E's (excellent) and the Girlie got all G's (good). I dropped them off with Grandma, smiles all around.

When I picked them up, it was bigger smiles all around. Seems Grandma rewarded them for their awesome reports with cold hard cash.

*****

Wednesday - surprise, soccer again.

It's not so much just the driving - it's the "leaving work at 5:30pm-picking the kids up, cooking and feeding them and getting to soccer by 6:30- -for pick up again at 8 PM, putting to bed, getting breakfast in the morning and making their lunch and snacks in the morning before I head out for work -to do it all over again..." thing that is killing me. That and about 5 loads of laundry, 3 loads of dishes and grocery shopping in between for good measure, just to add to the excitement.

So back to Wednesday -when I picked the kids up, the Boy tells me he has a wicked stomach-ache, a bad experience in the washroom and feels like he's gonna hurl. Lovely.

There goes soccer - which normally would have been okay. Except that I had planned to drop him off and take the girlie down to the gymnastics place to put a deposit down for her upcoming birthday party, then head back to get him. Of course this place is only open on alternate days, and this was the only time they were open late on a weekday. And if there's one thing I know about party places, if they've got an opening on a day that we DON'T have soccer, I gotta grab it.

Nice Mom that I am, I tell the Boy that if he's got any control over the situation whatsoever, that it would be a really, really bad day for him to be sick tomorrow, as Mom had a bunch of really, really important meetings with her boss and other important people. "I'm sorry Mom, I hope so, I'll see how I feel..."

Then I made them a quick dinner, started in on the math homework with the whiny sick feeling kid, listening to him complain about the utter uselessness of graphs in the real world... and noticed that the girlie had passed out after a long day at the zoo. Looked at the time - geez, the place closes in half an hour....

Loaded them up in the van, raced down to the party place, got the thumbs up from the girlie that it would be a suitable venue...raced back uptown, ran a bath for the girlie while her brother sat down to finish his math....ran down to check on him only to find him passed out on the dining room chair.

Geez, let's get him into bed.

Got him into bed. Got her milk after her bath, got her into bed... and poured myself a lovely glass of Pinot Grigio and spent the rest of the evening with that in hand, a couple of Halloween size packs of Ruffles chips, and some PVR'd episodes of The Good Wife.

Splendid. Last drop of alcohol in the house and it was mine. Things were looking up.

*****

Thursday morning - the Boy is up! He is downstairs! He is finishing his homework. He is getting dressed and sitting down at the piano to PRACTICE!!!

"You were right Mom, I feel a lot better this morning. This math isn't so bad!!!"

The Girlie is in fine form too. "Mama, I know what I want to wear. Is it time to go to school yet?"

YES!!!

Saw them off on the school bus, coast was clear.

****

At the office, I get thinking about how the boy's cough from July, for which we got medicine last month, still hasn't cleared up. Maybe I should make an appointment to see the doc for Friday, when they're off from school. I'm so organized that I manage to call and make the appointment at exactly the time that I want, and just before I had to go to my first meeting of the day.

I get back to the office around 12 noon. I see the red flashing on my phone, and just as I go to pick it up to check my messages, my cell phone rings.

This sad, sickly voice on the other end: "Mom, we were playing tag at recess and Adam jumped off the monkey bars, wasn't looking and he kicked me in the face with his foot. I feel dizzy..."

You've got to be f*cking kidding me.

"Well, Mommy just made an appointment for you to see the doctor tomorrow. Can you hang in there , just a few more hours? I can get you after school. We can check you out tomorrow if it doesn't get better. Can I talk to the secretary?"

The secretary comes on:" We put some ice on it. It's a little bruised. Let me put it this way, he will survive. You know your son best."

Yeah, considering he's been in the office about 3 times in the last 3 weeks complaining of this, that and the other, and each time I come running in and bring him to the doctor...I know my son. I know he will survive, and gets miraculously better as soon as we leave the doctor's office.

So I tell him I'll get him later. And 15 minutes later, feeling totally like Mother of the Year (drip, drip), I call the school back to tell him I'll bring him to work with me. Potential head injury - after all. The guilt lies heavily with me.

I wolf down lunch, drive to the school, bring him back and leave him in my office and ask my new assistant (yay!!!) to keep a watch in case he needs anything, and go to another 2 hour meeting.

Leave work early with him as he says he's feeling faint (I know he's starving now and just bored), get to school to pick up the girlie, indulge her wish to check out the book fair, get pissed off at her with measured words through a clenched jaw, while she has a hissy fit when I refuse to buy her a $17 pack of stickers (throws her coat on the floor, tears, all that...what the????)...buy her a $5 book and more silly bandz ... and then get home to cook again.

Of course before I do that, I get the girl her milk, tell the boy to stay off the Xbox, watch them both sulk at me while I rush to get changed and indulge myself a couple of minutes for a quick cry in my closet.

*****

So right now I sit, with my sausage, spinach and pesto pasta, wishing that my son would get off his iTouch, quit coughing and come down for dinner to get rid of the hunger that is giving him even more of a headache. I'm also yelling at my daughter to eat her dinner as she sits in the study in front of the other computer playing on Barbie.com.

All I want to do is vent, vent, vent this all out so that when my husband walks through the door later this evening, after not seeing me for a week, his first sight of me won't be a launch at him like a wicked bitch-bat out of hell. Again. That's who I've been the whole last ... what, year????

I figure I've got to show some nice ... (I did miss him a lot while he was away, and not just because he's great at playing interference between me and the kids) ... before we go through this all again tomorrow, with the parent-teacher interviews, the doctor, the traffic, the soccer...

*****

PS: I know this is all so, so, trivial. I did take the time out today at 11 AM for a moment of silence to honour the soldiers of past and present, who put their lives on the line so that we do have the freedom that allows for the busy, extra-curricular life my family enjoys. Because it is a life that we are indeed very lucky to have.

I do know that. Still, it was good to have that grounding moment of the day.

Friday Fragments - A little bit o'this & that

Don't forget to check out the home of glorious Fragments( Mrs. 4444)

Well it's a fragmented kinda day, so here in no particular order...

*****

I survived my first weekend as a "real" soccer Mom of suburban Canada. How did we do it last weekend, by the way?

Gaga in the morning, soccer league game #1 Friday night; followed by workout on Saturday morning, soccer league game #2 in the afternoon, Gaga resurfaced again at night for a party that night.

I think I know why I was shouting my age at everyone at the party. Because I was probably definitely feeling it, and then some.

About the soccer, the Boy was nervous but he held his own. He's still a little timid (I would be too - the size of the 11 x 11 field was massive for these guys...) but he'll get the hang of it.

After all, we're starting it all over again tonight.

*****

I had a bit of a meltdown this past week. Everything is catching up to me again. The kids were fighting over the TV over breakfast (it's a bad habit, I know, but we've fallen into this as a way to keep them out of my hair while I get their stuff ready for the day). I had to yell at them to get their bags packed, deal with the girlie wanting to change coats and wear different shoes at the last minute, yell at them to bring their dishes back to the kitchen so that the family room would stop looking like a hoarder's lair....all of this after my husband had basically rolled out of bed, poured a coffee and left for work.

I felt badly for my poor cleaning lady as I unleashed my issues to her in Chinglish (she speaks mostly just Cantonese).

I know the Man had promised to help out a bit more, but the weather has been giving him migraine-like headaches. Although he did step things up a bit when we had this talk a while ago, it's petered off again with the level of work commitment and travel for him. He does things when I remind him to. I'm honestly sick of having to remind everyone of everything.

Yeah, he's off again for a week, with another couple of trips scheduled within the next few weeks.

I've got to figure out how to cope better. I think I need to travel for work again. Pretty sad coping mechanism.

*****

Enough bitchy me. I asked the kids who would want to see the NKOTBBSB concert next summer. NOOOOOOO -Who? I know, I kid. I didn't like them much the first time around but with age .... I'm also thinking of going to the Heart concert in the new year. Gah, I am getting on.

*****

Mom is coming home from her trip to the US on Saturday. She's been there for a week with 3 other widow friends, to the Boston area. None of us know what return flight she's on. She's arranged her own transportation home - we each thought the other knew.

What lame kids. Thank goodness she's so self-sufficient. I hope I'm like that in 25 years. We're planning a Dim Sum visit with her Sunday. It's the least we can do, right?

******

Well, I intend to have a good weekend, so hopefully you will too.

The Great Pumpkin Seeds

My jaw is hurting. It must be the day after Halloween.

And I'm thinking about my Dad.

The one thing I always looked forward to at Halloween, aside from the candy and goodies, of course, was the wonderful aroma of roasting pumpkin seeds emanating from the oven.

Pumpkin seeds weren't a rare commodity in our house. In fact, my Dad was a major snacker of the crunchiest kind - peanuts, chips, almonds, sunflower seeds, watermelon seeds, and pumpkin seeds all figured as part of his routine. You'd hear the most satisfying sounds everytime you vacuumed. Seriously, sort of gross, all those shells, but at the same time certainly satisfying at chore time.

But fresh pumpkin seeds, dug out of fresh pumpkins, tossed in the perfect amount of salt and roasting just so while we were out trick-or-treating?

The best.

Rushing back into the house, we would promptly dump all of our loot onto the floor of the family room. After going through the exercise of splitting everything equally between my sister and myself, I couldn't wait to get into the crispy seeds that Dad had prepared.

They never disappointed either. We would usually spend the rest of the evening catching up on all the antics of the trick-or-treaters, laughing as we chomped and chewed, and occasionally spewed. Fun with my siblings, and fun with Mom and Dad.

So every Halloween, I make sure that when I carve the pumpkins, I scrape each and every precious seed meticulously from the orange fibres. I lack the perfect touch that my Dad had for every batch, and I do feel a faint discomfort after snacking on handfuls of these seeds after the kids get back with their loot.

But each twinge brings me those amazing Halloween memories as a kid, and back to a time that I looked so forward to something that only my Daddy could do, on that one special time every year.

Make the most perfect batch of roasted pumpkin seeds ever.

Here's munchin' to you Dad. We really miss you.