Scrolling Saturdays - Quality Me Time

This is my second edition of Scrolling Saturdays hosted by suchsimplepleasures & manners & moxie. This is what I'm doing when I really should be at the gym. But honestly, bacon and eggs and a stroll through memory lane sits a little better with me this morning. I bring you a glimpse of me trying to eke out some "quality me time", from a not great situation, and how things can go awry...

The hubster decided to bring out more of the Germanic genes from his little girl on Sunday, so after dinner he let her help him wipe down his car windows. I know from a reliable source and a study conducted with my former boss (n=2, so statistically sound results) that Germans have a thing about their cars and washing them. On a Sunday. All that was missing was sauerkraut.

But I shouldn't complain, as they eventually got around to my minivan. Ian pulled out the shop vac and started to attack my vehicle with a vengeance. I was in there re-installing the carseat that we'd taken to Vancouver. I couldn't stand the rough treatment so I decided to vacuum it myself, as little G climbed in to wipe down the dashboard dust with an even dirtier cloth. Both vehicles were in tip top shape, mine at least on the inside as we went in for the evening.

Yesterday was a nothing day; I decided to let L play with his friends while I puttered around the house a bit, did some vacuuming, finished up the laundry, dishes, surfed the net, blogged in between. I did have some stuff to get at Walmart, but it's so much easier to do without the kids that I decided to wait until after dinner to go out on my own.

As 9 PM rolls around I decide I better go out; hop in the van, turn ignition and NOTHING. Battery dead. As a doornail. I'm annoyed. Ian suggests that I call CAA in the morning and get them to charge it. I say, "no, I need my stuff tonight; besides, we can just charge it with your car". I didn't want to be stuck without a car (although technically I already had been, as the car's battery drained throughout the day). I took his car out for my errands, and when I got home, he hooked the cars up and left the van on the driveway running for me. I thought it was a good idea to take it out for a spin on the highway for a bit, to give the battery more of a charge. Ian suggested I pop by Tim's to get a coffee or tea, and have a leisurely drive. What a great idea!

So excited to have some time with me, myself and I, in the car, with some tunes.... hey, why is my Maroon 5 CD hanging out, and why won't it let me push it back in? What is this four letter word "CODE" flashing at me? I try to turn on the radio - also a no-go. Hurriedly I pull out the owners manual, look in the index and see "radio, anti-theft system". Turning to the page I read ..." state of the art anti-theft system ... blah, blah... should have received a card with the serial number of your radio and the 4-digit code, should your battery ever be disconnected from your radio, blah,blah... If you lose your card, just phone the dealer with the serial number of the radio and you can get your code..."

Oh, other four-letter word.

Couldn't find the card, don't know if we ever had one. It was Ian's company car so we bought it from the leasing company. Uh, and how are you supposed to get the serial number of the INSTALLED radio?!Fat chance of doing anything about it at night.

So for my troubles, I figured I deserved a chocolate-glazed donut along with my coffee. Driving along the highway with the lovely evening in front of my windshield, not a whisper other than the smooth hum of engine, I felt a zen-like quality permeating from within.

Well, thank goodness for Google. Turns out there are message boards galore and hundreds of other disgruntled Honda owners who've experienced the same problem. Advice and experiences ranged from "the dealer will take your radio out for $100, then they'll give you the code" to "check your ashtray, under the trunk, in the fuse box, glove compartment etc... ". Some people have been without a radio/ music for months (well, that's a bit much) but what a headache! I spent a good part of the evening doing my research, found the number and tried it this morning. Eureka, it worked! What a great criminal mind!

Pretty thoughtful of Honda to install such an effective anti-theft device for any owner who wants to steal their own sound system.

Well, I'm actually going out to dinner tonight with the hubs and another couple...sans kids! Whoot!!! So happy bloghoppin' to any of you popping around tonight.

The Cough that almost stole Christmas

Joy to the world, the Cough remains, so while Heav'n and Nature sang, yours truly could not.

Pro's and Cons of being sick during Christmas:

First, the not so great stuff:

1. It was very difficult to get into the Christmas spirit. Just when I had the work thing licked (for now), ready to get into the birthday party preparations and holidays festivities, this Cough that began as a little tickle, can now be heard around the world ...(yes, you thought that was the annoying choking motor in your neighbour's driveway, but it was really me). Well, at least according to the husband. He thinks I should take up smoking to be worthy of my cough.

2. Said husband has been sleeping in the guest room since the illness hit. Just so that he can actually get some sleep without being rudely awakened by Mt. Vesuvius erupting every 30 minutes. He moved back in for Christmas eve when the relatives needed the bed. But quickly vacated it again last night. Who could blame him, I honestly wouldn't want to wake up as a human cast of volcanic ash. I miss him though.

3. I've been so reticent with the Christmas hugs and snuggles with the kiddies and my nieces. Especially the babies (oh, I'm sooooo upset about that!) They are just the most adorable little things, just about 6 months old now. Chortling, giggling, limbs jerking wildly about as they amaze themselves with their newfound talents. I'm likely way past contagious, but I sound so horrible whenever I cough, I daren't go too close to them, just in case.

4. Bodyjam withdrawal. I am missing the gym, and my favourite hip-hop class more than I ever thought I would. It's been about two weeks! I am also dreading getting back into the gym, because I already see the expanding muffin top that I was working so hard at keeping at bay.

5. The general lack of energy during a time when we should be planning fun daytrips, and exciting family time together. At least Ian is out skiing today.

But there's a shiny side:

1. I could go out with a girlfriend who's also got a lingering cough, so we were both merrily hacking away in this little sushi restaurant. Great company, great laughs, great food... and great cough-raderie. Not so great for the rest of the clientele, I suppose.

2. I was not the head chef this year at our Christmas Eve dinner. Ian took the reins and decided, because a few of the family are vegetarian and don't eat turkey anyway, to make a turkey roll a la Ricardo instead of a full bird. It was simply delish, stuffed with pork,pear and cranberry. And he rounded out the meal with a lovely pinnacota (an Italian dessert of milk, whipping cream and gelatin) with a blueberry fruit topping.

My sisters-in-law brought all their mouthwatering Christmas baking, which actually left little room for the dessert.

I was happy to make the mash and broccoli. That much I could handle.

3. Downtime actually gives you the time to reflect. And spend quiet moments with my kids and hubby. Because although I've been choking up my lungs, at least I'm in the same room as them, and I can watch from a safe distance as they snuggle with their Daddy.

4. If you're going to be not feeling well, at least it's a happy time of year around you. My relatives were all great and happy to see us. I had warned everyone ahead of time of my lingering cough, so no one seemed overly concerned.

I even had the energy to try this great new recipe that's on Jaden's website. The Crab and Fuji apple salad went over very well last night, and blended right in with my Mom's melange of a menu that started with my salad and followed with smoked salmon, yams, ham and roast beef. With Kit Kat, Smarties Ice Cream or Strawberry Sherbert for dessert.

5. I lack the energy to Boxing Day shop; well, at least on Boxing day itself. So it's a little easier on the pocketbook, gives it a day's grace anyway.

I remember as a kid, getting up bright and early on Boxing Day and jumping in the car with my family to head out to Scarborough Town Centre. We would get into the mall, and stand outside the large glass sliding doors that opened to the Bay; then make a mad dash to the Christmas cards and wrapping sections to help my mom grab the best offerings before anyone else would get there.

And a few years later as a teenager, taking the TTC down to Yonge Street to line up for Sam the Record Man's annual Boxing Day extravaganza. I think my best score ever was when I paid $3.99 for Bryan Adams "Cuts like a Knife" LP.

The vitality of youth. Actually, illness or no, I wouldn't even contemplate actually heading out today. With the sales that will likely linger until the New Year, I think I can afford another day of rest before tackling the mall.

All crankiness aside, overall it has been a great couple of days with the families. So I'll leave with some photos of the festivities...

Birthday Celebrations

Us

Cousins!

Dora gets ready for the party

Christmas Chez Nous

Birthday cousins

Bakugan - SCORE!!!

I am a Unicorn staring at the most hermetically sealed toy packaging in the universe.

Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's

L, Grandpa and Baby R


G and Baby J

Stung not once, but twice

... serves me right for getting the kids McDonalds for lunch.

It was such a gorgeous day out yesterday, the last Friday before school starts, that I decided to forego my usual morning workout at the gym to take my kids to Canada's Wonderland. We had bought season tickets, and L is such a tall boy this year he was charged the adult rate. So in total our passes plus parking came out to about $250, not exactly chump change. To make it worth our while we would have to visit the park at least twice. Including this visit, it would be 3 times, but the second visit without the Dad. L was disappointed because he can only go on the big rides if Ian or I can accompany him.

I had warned L (yeah, fancy that, WARNING him) that I was going to take them to Wonderland if the weather wasn't too steamy. To be fair, Wonderland isn't his favourite place when we have to stick to Kidsville and Nickelodeon Central. He'd rather be hanging out with his friends on the street. But I promised we'd only go for a few hours because our granite counter tops would be coming in later that afternoon.

The big dilemma was what to eat for lunch. We didn't want to eat inside the park, where the food is so overpriced and service usually superslow. Our kitchen still isn't fully functional, so I was trying to think of healthier drive-through options. I suggested a subway sandwich, pizza (although I am sick of it); tacos, sandwiches from Tim Horton's etc... Nothing was striking his fancy, and we were running out of options as we got closer to the park.

L is quite good when it comes to McD's - we try not to have it more than once a month, for special treats only. And if the Happy Meal Toy is not up to snuff, then we don't bother. But it seemed unavoidable as I ran out of ideas as we came to the last McDonald's before Wonderland; and from the way the cars were snaked around through the parking lot into the drive-through line-up it was the last McDonald's on earth. At this point, L thought he might try the Fish-burger; a change from his usual. It was decided that we would both get fish, and the little one was good getting her nuggets.

As I pulled up to the end of the line, it was the most inopportune spot - at a stop sign in the parking lot. I didn't want to block this mini-intersection, so as cars pulled up I backed up to let them through, not wanting to miss my place in line. Well, wouldn't you know it, the second car who I back up for promptly took my place in the line up in front of me. You know how patient I am with those kinds of things, so I threw up my hands in the air and did a "WHAT?" in my meanest krump fashion. Body language is obviously universal, as the woman put her hands up, shrugs her shoulders and did a "Oh, sorry," but did nothing to show she would move.

That was the first sting, and it really gets my goat. I don't like drive-throughs much for the obvious environmental issues, but G had just passed out in the back, and Liam was hungry by this time. I think there should be reserve lines for people who have more than one person in the car, like those High Occupancy Lanes on the highways. Single drivers should not be allowed through drive-throughs because they can get their lazy butts out of the car and walk .... anyway, I digress. By now, the line was so long I decided to park and plop G in the stroller, and walk with my boy into the restaurant to order.

Well, wouldn't you know it, as I set the stroller up, and put my arms up to pick up the still-slumbering girl, I hear this yell "Mom, there's a ..." and I feel this sharp pinch just beneath my armpit. Yes, you know that tender point of flabby flesh that's a reasonable facsimile to a bicep when flexed? Yeah, right there, I SWAT at this annoying yellow-jacket out of pure reflex, while simultaneously a foul stream of unmentionable phrases spews out from between my snarling lips. I think you get the picture.

Second sting. And I feel the venom spreading throughout my upper arm.

Now more annoyed than ever, I grinned and bore it, and we went inside and stood through the shortest but of course slowest line. And got our lunch. Gotta be brave for the kids after all.

L wanted to ask the guy for a band-aid (so cute) but I said it was OK. Now people are staring at my bicep not because it's so firm and toned, but because it looks so red and nasty.

Despite this early setback, we had a couple of great hours at the park. We saw a diving/trampoline show, then each child got a couple of rides...

L on the bumper cars.

G all on her own in an airplane ride.

And then a cute visit with Dora, Diego and Pablo!



Oh, and a few new (and not so new, apparently) words have unfortunately been added to my son's vocabulary. He didn't miss a beat. Asked me about them later that evening - from his point of view, these bad words can be only uttered to himself. I had to correct him - they are not to be uttered by him at ALL (after all, his mother was in severe duress, pain etc...). I think he got it. But he's probably wondering where I got those in the first place. Mmmmmmm.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

On a totally unrelated note, here we have my newest island destination complete with the shiny black pearl on top:



Can you hear the angels sing?

Over and out.

Clear, Transparent Danger- and a saga

You've probably noticed that I've been making the time to blog on a daily basis. This despite having a house that is a wreck, and a million things to do. "How does she do it?" you may ask. Well, I do it while I'm taking significant breaks from my tedious, sweat-generating wrestling matches with the clear, sticky shelf-liner I purchased from Wal-Mart. Can you think of anything more taxing on your nerves than wiping down the shelves, measuring and cutting along the gridlines just so, and then sealing these pristine surfaces with nary a bubble in sight? Bubble-less? Impossible even after a half a dozen tries per shelf. Gawd!

And of course, hubby hasn't been in sight either, hence more face time on the computer for me. Muah-ha-ha!

***

The Saga

As I was trying to get the kids to bed last night at the early hour of 9:30 PM, the phone rings. Thinking it's the hubster giving me his nightly check-in call, I pick it up ready to be all cheery. Well, it wasn't the hubby, but my contractor. The one we hired to do everything for our reno except a) the floor (because we saw some of his work and it SUCKED) and b) the kitchen cabinetry which was custom. So we asked him to do all the electricals, plumbing, paint, and family room floor.

He wanted to come and complete the job today. We had told him we would call once the kitchen cabinets and floors were in; which was just completed this week. But I hadn't because our counter tops won't be installed until next week, so there was no point for him to come because we don't have sink, faucet, etc....and we hadn't finalized the colour for the paint yet or the family room wood floor choice for that matter. I said if he wanted to come and had time then he could do what he could, but it wasn't much at this point until we were further along.

That set him off. He said he couldn't just come for a few hours here and there, he had other jobs he had to do. It was a "waste of his time" to keep bringing his tools to set up, then leave, only to come back again. Which I could understand, but that's why I hadn't called him in the first place because there wasn't a huge chunk to do yet. He wondered why the paint choice was taking so long - I said we needed to have the cabinets and floors, and granite chosen to be sure of the colour (obviously, aesthetics aren't a huge concern for him). He said most people are in a hurry for their renos - laughed a bit sarcastically, then said that my mother had told him we were slow, but this was too slow for him. Yeah, basically he was saying he didn't know what our problem was and we were taking too long. Told me I should call him in OCTOBER to finish the job.

Well that set ME off. Who's the client in this scenario again? Can you believe this? I was livid. I said that I couldn't NOT have a kitchen for another month, and that I understood that he didn't like to be pulled in only every so often, which is why we hadn't called to confirm with him until we had everything set. I could have also (but didn't) mentioned that cutting two chunks out of my dining room wall wasn't part of the contract either (although they did patch them and I'm assuming will paint over it -if I can find the original paint).

Anyway, we left it that I'd go over everything with Ian and get back to him with our plans this week - that he should be prepared to come after Labour Day.

Now I don't know whether I should give him the benefit of the doubt that English isn't his first language; but his language skills are a lot better than he's ever let on to my mother (who referred us to him several times) or my siblings. Actually, she sends him a lot of work. I know he's given attitude to my brother and sister before, but he's always been OK with me, and he's always chuckling with Ian. I should have taken the paint job he did for my brother as a warning (he got the wrong hue of paint for them, only slightly off so they could live with it, but that wasn't the point - he never apologized or offered to get the original paint they had chosen).

I don't mind him asking about scheduling etc. and I fully understand that he needs to keep his jobs going and it is his busy season. But really, there's no need for him to raise his voice and say things which I found personally insulting. And we have already booked the job with him, as opposed to other jobs which he is still seeking.

So then I called Ian. Who agreed that Mr. C. was being a p#&ck (trying to keep this PG folks) but that he figured he was annoyed because we didn't hire him for more work. Told me to let him call him back and he'd straighten him out. Said if he ever gave me that type of call again, I should just say "Talk to Ian". Yeah, my knight in shining armour.

So you know where I'm going now... let's call in my henchwoman ... MAMA!

Well, no, I didn't do that. But mom coincidentally called me about an hour later about baby stuff. And then I mentioned my conversation with the contractor briefly. To which Mom jumped through the phone and said ... "Let me tell him off tomorrow". She's so funny!

I told Mom it wasn't necessary for her to contact him. I just want him to finish the job so I can get my kitchen completed, and completed nicely. THEN she can call and tell him off!!

I don't think she'll be sending any more work his way, though. And although I had initially considered him to do our next reno (basement), based on this conversation I'm not so sure. But maybe I'm just a hothead and too sensitive. Or maybe not.

Well, now that it's off my chest, maybe I'll get over it. Whatever -- just get this thing off my head!

The Anti-Owner Radio

The hubster decided to bring out more of the Germanic genes from his little girl on Sunday, so after dinner he let her help him wipe down his car windows. I know from a reliable source and a study conducted with my former boss (n=2, so statistically sound results) that Germans have a thing about their cars and washing them. On a Sunday. All that was missing was sauerkraut.

But I shouldn't complain, as they eventually got around to my minivan. Ian pulled out the shop vac and started to attack my vehicle with a vengeance. I was in there re-installing the carseat that we'd taken to Vancouver. I couldn't stand the rough treatment so I decided to vacuum it myself, as Giselle climbed in to wipe down the dashboard dust with an even dirtier cloth. Both vehicles were in tip top shape, mine at least on the inside as we went in for the evening.

Yesterday was a nothing day; I decided to let Liam play with his friends while I puttered around the house a bit, did some vacuuming, finished up the laundry, dishes, surfed the net, blogged in between. I did have some stuff to get at Walmart, but it's so much easier to do without the kids that I decided to wait until after dinner to go out on my own.

As 9 PM rolls around I decide I better go out; hop in the van, turn ignition and NOTHING. Battery dead. As a doornail. I'm annoyed. Ian suggests that I call CAA in the morning and get them to charge it. I say, "no, I need my stuff tonight; besides, we can just charge it with your car". I didn't want to be stuck without a car (although technically I already had been, as the car's battery drained throughout the day). I took his car out for my errands, and when I got home, he hooked the cars up and left the van on the driveway running for me. I thought it was a good idea to take it out for a spin on the highway for a bit, to give the battery more of a charge. Ian suggested I pop by Tim's to get a coffee or tea, and have a leisurely drive. What a great idea!

So excited to have some time with me, myself and I, in the car, with some tunes.... hey, why is my Maroon 5 CD hanging out, and why won't it let me push it back in? What is this four letter word "CODE" flashing at me? I try to turn on the radio - also a no-go. Hurriedly I pull out the owners manual, look in the index and see "radio, anti-theft system". Turning to the page I read ..." state of the art anti-theft system ... blah, blah... should have received a card with the serial number of your radio and the 4-digit code, should your battery ever be disconnected from your radio, blah,blah... If you lose your card, just phone the dealer with the serial number of the radio and you can get your code..."

Oh, other four-letter word.

Couldn't find the card, don't know if we ever had one. It was Ian's company car so we bought it from the leasing company. Uh, and how are you supposed to get the serial number of the INSTALLED radio?!Fat chance of doing anything about it at night.

So for my troubles, I figured I deserved a chocolate-glazed donut along with my coffee. Driving along the highway with the lovely evening in front of my windshield, not a whisper other than the smooth hum of engine, I felt a zen-like quality permeating from within.

Well, thank goodness for Google. Turns out there are message boards galore and hundreds of other disgruntled Honda owners who've experienced the same problem. Advice and experiences ranged from "the dealer will take your radio out for $100, then they'll give you the code" to "check your ashtray, under the trunk, in the fuse box, glove compartment etc... ". Some people have been without a radio/ music for months (well, that's a bit much) but what a headache! I spent a good part of the evening doing my research, found the number and tried it this morning. Eureka, it worked! What a great criminal mind!

Pretty thoughtful of Honda to install such an effective anti-theft device for any owner who wants to steal their own sound system.

Full body visor anyone?

Today before I turn onto my street at a three-way stop-sign, I do the requisite quick check into the car on my left to ensure that they have indeed stopped. I usually have a tiny moment of eye contact with the other driver, for a final confirmation that is is OK to proceed. But today as I peered into the windshield, I saw NOTHING. So I'm thinking, "Wow, that driver is really short; I can't even see the top of his/her head at the steering wheel". And as I continue my left turn, I finally get a look inside and this is what I see:



Holy aliens Batman! No wonder I couldn't see the driver, she (and I'm pretty sure it was a female) was hunched down with the visor pulled down past her chin over her neck. Frankly, I think it's a bit of a safety hazard.

I've seen these visors around for a few years now. I think they're quite popular in Asia, and we do have a fairly large Chinese community in my neighbourhood. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that 1 in every 3 cars I pass by has an Oriental driver (me being one of them!).

I can understand wearing them in the full sun, out on the street, at the park. Maybe. And perhaps if you just don't want people to look at your face, and honestly I've had days like that too. I would be more curious to see who is under that thing, so it wouldn't really be a deterrent for me. And how about the top of your head? There's skin there too. So sorry, besides being plain ugly, it looks a little stupid. Especially when you're in your car.

They've got them for kids now, and of course it is a concern for everyone, especially children, the strength of the sun and increase of cancers etc. And I suppose that some people have an aversion to wearing chemicals, creams, sunscreens. But I think it's important to be exposed to some sun, as long as it's in moderation. We really do need our Vitamin D. We're just a family of Sunscreen Slatherers. I hear SPF 50 is the new 30; sounds good to me.

So, I don't think I'll be getting such a visor anytime soon. But maybe if they invent one for the beach if I've strayed from my workout - now a full body visor may be in order then!

I am a mouse, really I am

I grew up being a very typically shy, quiet, Chinese girl, who only spoke when she was spoken to, especially with adults. During kindergarten, when my teacher would take attendance and call my name I wouldn't say a thing... then she would look up and say with exasperation "Karen, you're supposed to say PRESENT". But I just didn't like to open my mouth. I suppose it didn't help that I spoke only Cantonese until I started school, so it was difficult to communicate with my teacher and other kids around me. And I started school in a new city, away from my Grandma and everything that had been familiar to me.

So I've always considered myself on the quiet side, "mousy" if you will. I know a lot of my friends told me their first impression of me was that I was snooty - which wasn't the case, I just felt awkward and chose not to say much or interact. It's only when people really get to know me when I totally open up and don't really shut up.

To remedy this, my mother enrolled me in all sorts of lessons, and whenever there was a speech contest at school she would make sure I participated. She really wanted to beat that shyness right out of me. And I suppose it worked, if two recent incidents are any indication.

Incident 1
I was shopping for a little outfit for our friend's new daughter, and I found the cutest dress with matching pants and socks. We were the only people in the store (me and little G) so when I went to pay I figured it would be pretty quick. The sales girl took the merchandise from me and commented on how nice the outfit was, and I concurred. Then I asked whether the sizing was right for a 15 month old, as it was a gift for a friend. She said it was perfect, but she said they could always exchange it if it didn't fit. So we continue to pleasantly chit-chat while she folds the clothes into the tissue paper and she says to me "so you don't need gift receipts, right?" Uh, what do you think the first clue was lady? But anyway, I said, "Actually, I do as it's a gift." And then she proceeds to check the bar codes, and request my phone number, to see if I'm on the customer list.

While she does this she offhandedly says to me again, "Do you need gift receipts?". And I patiently say, "Yes I do." But then my telephone number comes up with another customer, so she does what she needs to, takes my credit card and puts the purchase through. I sign the chit, she gives me the bill and I say, "So you put the gift receipts in the bag?" And she says, "Oh, you need gift receipts? You didn't say you did." UH, EX-SQUEEZE ME??!!!

I felt my "shiny, happy, shopping" face drop quickly to be replaced by my "WTF, you dopey girl" annoyed face in a millisecond. My next words, dripping with ice:

"Yes, I did say I needed gift receipts. You asked me TWICE and I responded YES I NEED THEM, BOTH TIMES."

So then she spent the next ten minutes trying to re-do the transaction. An awkward ten minutes. I felt a bit bad for her as she apologized, but only sort of.

Incident 2
I hate telemarketers. Especially the ones who call right at 6:02 PM while I'm trying to get dinner on, and it's much later than I planned (as usual). Normally when the phone rings at that hour, I don't answer it, and I don't let my kids answer either. But Hubby was away, so I let L pick it up in case it was his Dad. Big mistake. L listens a bit, then he hands it to me, "For you, Mom".

"Hello there, we're in your neighbourhood and are pleased to offer you a free estimate on all windows and doors" this voice on the other end says. Well, I would hope it would be a free estimate, why would I pay?

I respond, "I'm sorry, we're not interested". So trying again he says "We're in your neighbourhood and there's no obligations". To which I reply, "Well, we're not in the market for windows right now, so no thanks". Then he says, "When can we call you back?" and I say again: "Sorry, as I said we're not interested."

This is what he comes back with: "Well, let me speak to your mother"

WHAT?!!!

By this time, my patience is gone and I YELL into the phone, "I am the mother and I've already told you no thanks GOOD BYE!" and I hang up as I hear him sputtering. Liam says to me, "Are you OK mom?" I guess it was quite uncharacteristic of me, I can only imagine how red and foul my face looked.

Don't you think I did my mama proud?

Butt it out, please.

I was thinking about our beach vacation today as I was getting ready for the gym. Checking out my behind in the mirror as I can't believe the wonders that Lululemon pants do for your average backside. While doing this I got a wicked flashback of a couple of unwelcome scenes on the beach at Negril.

We were staying at a family resort and I suppose that the beach is technically public. One morning as I was settling with Giselle under our hut, I noticed 2 older very tanned guys strolling along the beach in our direction. By older, I mean obviously well into their 60's or 70's, both wearing G-strings that left very little to the imagination. At the time, I thought it more hilarious to watch other people's reactions to this couple. I'm not a prude, but I was glad that Liam wasn't around so I didn't have to explain why these guys would feel the need to expose themselves in that way.

A few days later I noticed another older couple walking toward us on the beach, one male and one female. This time the man was in full swim trunks, and the woman looked like she was in a normal bikini but then as she walked past I noticed it was another G-string. Now I'm all about freedom of expression and that, and her body wasn't too bad I suppose, for her age. But if you're going to wear that, then make sure your hair and upper look is from this decade! Her head didn't match --- it was like seeing one of my mom's best friends or June Cleaver wearing a G-string. It's not like she was Goldie Hawn or Cher ... that I could probably have handled.

Why did they feel the need to share? Why couldn't they have been GQ type bods - even if they'd been gay I wouldn't have minded the eye-candy. G-strings are also so uncomfortable (my only first-hand experience being for gymwear only - nasty pantylines don't cut it).

So I was chatting away to Ian about this, then I felt guilty, I mean, it is only the human body. We'll all look like that eventually (ugh). I asked him if I was evil. He agreed, saying that I'm rotten to the core.

I'm a little bit whiny

We just got back from a sun-filled week in Negril, Jamaica. The weather was absolutely perfect, the Sesame Street characters at the Beaches resort didn't disappoint, and yet when people ask me how my time was I say "Good". Just "good"? I was hoping my answer would have been more enthusiastic considering all the time and expense that went into the vacation. I spent a week packing for 3 (had to cover all the bases) and didn't even offer to pack for Ian. He usually lives in shorts and T's when on the beach anyway. It was high season so I don't even want to go into how much it cost.

Maybe it's because I gained 5lbs, only got into the pool twice and the ocean maybe 3 times the whole 7 days. I think I need a vacation after my vacation. I don't really feel that I got much of a break at all.

Liam was an absolute dream. Although he didn't go to the kids camp, he made friends quickly and the resort was small and safe enough that I felt comfortable with him checking in with me every hour or so, just so I knew what he was up to and who he was with. He's a great swimmer and the water in the ocean and pool were quite shallow. A good thing, because I really needed a clone of myself if I had to keep an eye on him the whole time.

Ian had a great day 1. He signed up for an intro scuba class and was scheduled to go on a couple dives. But as per usual he got sick after his class on day 2, so he was out all that evening and the entire 3rd day and evening. He still managed to go snorkelling a couple of times the remainder of the trip. I don't begrudge him his time at all - he works so hard he really needed to have some time just to chill and I'm proud of him for doing a scuba dive when he wasn't feeling 100%.

So it was me with my little Diva together alone for most of the trip. Much like we are at home, so I suppose it was a bonus that we were in an idyllic setting. But her terrible 2's behaviour came on with a vengeance, likely because the weather was so different as were the surroundings. She was so clingy, loud, having temper tantrums at most meal times. On Day 2 I put her in the Nursery for a couple of hours while Ian was at scuba. That was nice - she didn't act up until I picked her up. So the next day she kicked up a fuss but the girls were great and told me to just go. The whole time I was away (just lying on the beach) I just felt so guilty and didn't really know what to do with myself. But when I picked her up she was just fine, so I thought, hey things are looking up! Of course the next day she developed a fever. That was the last day she went to the nursery. And then probably because all she ate was sausages, fries and Fruit Loops, she developed a couple of nasty canker sores in her tiny mouth. She was super cranky because she was in super pain.

All I did all week was stay on the beach under a hut, ate a lot as the food (ie. jamaican patties, fries, pizza, jerk chicken) and drink (dirty bananas, strawberry daiquiris, Red Stripe light, G & T's) were plentiful. Didn't do one exercise class, maybe walked across the beach a couple times a day. Oh and I did the Macarena with Grover at the Character breakfast. That was the extent of my exercise. Hence the additional weight. And grumpy mood.

But overall I'm glad that the kids (in particular Liam) had an amazing time. We managed to hire a babysitter so Ian and I actually got to spend about 3 hours having dinner in a very romantic spot (The Rockhouse) which actually rented out rooms complete with open air showers and infinity pool overlooking the cliffs. At this point in our lives, it's all about the kids isn't it? And we can still dream about cycling trips through Provence and luxury villa stays without the kids. Those trips will come in time, but until then I reserve the right to be whiny in my own little online space.