Yummy

Eden: Mommy, I have some apple pie, pleeeease?

Me: We don't have any apple pie, Baby.

Eden: Ya! D'ere's a apple pie in da fridge. Daddy put it d'ere. Come see!

Hmm, could this be correct? Maybe that nice grandmotherly lady Adam works with has been baking again. Those cookies he brought home last week were yummy! Mmm, pie. I could really go for some pie. I wonder if we have any ice cream...

Me: Eden, this is not an apple pie...this is a pineapple. I'm horribly disappointed. Get your boots, we're going to the store.

HI, I'm still alive! I know, you were worried right?

Sooo...where were we...early November. Shit. OK something must have happened since then huh?


We went to a play. An English Pantomime to be specific. My mom has some mobility issues, so she's decided that it will be her role to enrich my children's lives through the magic of live theatre since taking the girls ice skating, tobogganing, skiing, or anything else that requires walking, running, standing or any other kind of movement is pretty much out.

When she told me she'd bought these tickets I've got to admit that the words "English Pantomime" made me think of a mime with bad teeth, but it turned out to be a really hysterical production of Robin Hood where you get to yell at the actors and boo the bad guys (one of whom was portrayed by Major Bedhead from the Big Comfy Couch, parents will know who I'm talking about) and featuring some new characters like the drag queen Nurse and Larry the Snow Fairy. The kids loved it. Even Eden sat through the entire thing without getting squirmy or bored.

After the show Major Bedhead (who probably has a real name, but who really cares? Besides him I guess, and maybe his mother) called a few kids up on stage for some audience participation game type things and Skylar was one of the chosen few. As she took her place on stage he complimented her elegant dress and she responded by picking her tights out of her crotch. As he went on down the line asking names (and making fun of them) Eden noticed that Skylar was up on stage and there followed an intense wrestling match with her father as Adam tried to prevent her from running up to join her sister. Eventually the two year old kicked his ass and made a break down the aisle towards the stage. Skylar saw this and started yelling to Major Bedhead
"My sister! My sister wants to come up too!"

Since the Major knows entertainment value when he sees it, he helped Eden crawl up onto the stage and everyone "Awww"d as she took her sister's hand. Then the two of them stood there beaming and waving and ignoring instructions until the interlude was done and candy was distributed to one and all. As we walked out of the theatre they were graciously applauded and hailed as the stars of the show.

Next year's show is Peter Pan.

The end of my summer, condensed.

It has been pointed out to me that I have not written in a while. Whoo hoo, somebody noticed!
Sooo...let's see:

I went on vacation! It was great. I drank wine and climbed mountains (fine, I rode up a mountain in a gondola-like-tram-thing, I'm not a super-hero here) I shopped and took pictures and caught up with friends I haven't seen in years and drank more wine and splashed in the ocean (ish) and fell in love with the scenery and rode ferries and skybusses and other exotic forms of transportation. I'd tell you all about it, but in all honestly there's only like three people who actually read this and two of you were there. I'd like to thank you both for your organization, hospitality, entertainment, and all around awesomeness as well as for your patience with my public transit retardation (I totally failed to follow even your most basic written instructions) and for the phrase "Gear down, Big Rig." best delivered with a Scottish brogue. To the other one: Sorry, you shoulda been. It was boss.

I worked, but I don't get paid enough to deal with shit like this:
Stupid Kid:What can I get for this? dumping a hand full of coins on my counter and waiting expectantly.
Me: I can't do this with you today. I've got a line-up. You're going to have to count it yourself and figure out what you want. translation: you're not cute enough to get away with this bullshit.
Stupid Kid: How much would it be for a Froster and a Skittles and a Rollo and a Push-Pop?
Me: What size Froster?
Stupid Kid: What's the biggest I can get for this much money?
Me: How much money do you have?
Stupid Kid: uuuuuuhhh...less than three dollars?
Me: You can't get all that stuff.
Stupid Kid: How much is a large Froster and a bag of Skittles with tax?
Me: Around 3 dollars.
Stupid Kid: How much exactly?
Me: Here's a calculator if you'd like to figure it out.
Stupid Kid: Huh? can't you just scan it all in?
Me: No, because I only get the taxes included if I push it in as a sale and total it and then I'd have to cancel it and do it again a dozen times as you fuck around trying to spend every last penny and every time I void a sale I have to print a receipt and write the reason WHY and I can only do that so many times a day and I'm not wasting them all on you AGAIN. Do you see the line of people I'm dealing with here? Do you think this stack of porn is going to price and shelf itself? Guess what kid, porn doesn't just happen. It's my JOB. "No."
Stupid Kid: UUh...what do I do?
Me: Jesus, this twit has got to be 13 years old, what the hell do they teach them in school these days? Add the prices of the Froster and the Skittles together. 1.69+0.99.
Me, to another customer: That's $1.34, Sir. Debit?
Stupid Kid: A dollar thirty four plus what?
Me: No, not you.
Stupid Kid: Then what?
Me: multiply by 0.12 for the tax.
Stupid Kid: Divide by what?
Me, to another customer: Sorry, only the bags of milk are on sale, not the jugs.
Stupid Kid: Is that all?
Me: No, add that number to your original total.
Stupid Kid: A dollar sixty-nine?
Me: No, the Skittles and the Froster together.
Stupid Kid: I forget that.
we repeat the process, step by step, between serving customers, making coffee and pricing chocolate bars.
Stupid Kid: I got a hundred and forty-two dollars and seventy-three cents.
Me: Yes, that's exactly right.

My kid started school. Grade school. Real, 5 day a week, no longer any kind of pre-school school. Where the big kids go. Every day.
In first grade there is homework. We get a book at the beginning of the week. This week it was "Feet." On Monday we're supposed to talk about the pictures. On Tuesday I'm supposed to read the book to her. On Wednesday she's supposed to pick out a few words and so on and so forth until we're so sick of "Feet" we could just puke. Finally she's supposed to answer an asinine question about "Feet." each day. That's the procedure anyway. Except my kid read the book to me on the first day without assistance and her answer to the question "I wonder..." was:
"I wonder why I can't read a properly written book? Who says 'I keep my feet warm. I wear socks'? Why wouldn't you just say 'I wear socks to keep my feet warm? And who cares about feet anyway?"
Well done, my child.

I got a dog. Skylar has been begging for a dog for years and my response has always been: When we get a bigger house. It doesn't look like that's going to happen any time soon, but that didn't stop her from telling everyone she meets that we are going to be getting a dog. A three year old dog, with curly ears, to be specific. So I started reading adds and searching shelters and signing up for Internet dating type services where you are matched up with the pet of your dreams based on age, race, interests and astrological signs. Have you tried to adopt a dog lately? I'm not trying to adopt a baby from China here people, do we seriously need to know about my obedience philosophies, nutrition plans, household income, the lives and deaths of all my past and present pets, and so on and so forth? I'm not even exaggerating here. They wanted to interview every member of my family and come over for a house check, from Toronto, not for free either. They require references and an account with a veterinarian. And it's still around $300-$400. I was bitching about all this while my mom was on the phone ('cause I'm considerate like that) and her friend had a friend of hers in the background and she said she was looking for a home for her dog. He's a three year old Cocker Spaniel (read: curly ears) and he's free. The next day we had a dog.

More on that later.

I have nothing entertaining to say. Luckily I have a 5 year old who never stops talking. Ever.

"She lives over there. You can tell by her going that way."

"*sigh* Would you please take this seriously Eden? We're surrounded by monsters here!"

"I had an adult dream last night. I don't think it was appropriate for my age. It was just a bunch of stupid grown-up stuff. You probably would have thought it was funny, but I didn't really get it."

Evil genius in training.

We were playing in the front yard when the phone rang.
"Goober, could you watch your sister for a sec? Just make sure she stays right here on the porch, OK?"
"Yep, I sure can."
"I'll be right back."
A minute later I came back outside to find Skylar quietly skooting around in a ride-on car and Eden...nowhere.
"Skylar, where's Eden?"
"She went that way." *pointing down the sidewalk beyond our house*
Note- Five years is too young to babysit. Who knew?
Ah, yes. That way. The way that leads to the park. The way that leads to the pool where my not quite two year old likes to jump off the diving board. The way that leads to Main Street.
I leaped across the lawn to the sidewalk and saw her nearing the end of the block.
"EDEN, STOP!"
She turned around and looked at me. Then squealed with delight before charging blindly across a residential street. Now she's running as fast as her pigeon toed little baby feet will take her, arms waving erratically in the air, towards the only really busy street in town. But I'm running too, and my legs are longer. She looks back over her shoulder and realizes she doesn't stand a chance.
Oh, shit. Here comes Mom and she looks pissed. What to do? What to do? I've got it!
She stops dead and turns toward me. Then she opens her blue eyes to their full round capacity and spreads her little arms up in the air as she calls out:
"MAMA, HUG?"
I defy anyone to spank that.

An emerald tiara, the book of Amun Ra and my SIN card.

I am not an overly organized person. I accept this about myself and, for the most part, it doesn't bother me. But I loose shit all the time.

I can rarely ever answer simple questions that begin with 'Where is....' Sorry Goober, I have no freaking clue where your princess backpack is. Adam, I haven't the foggiest idea where all your socks are. Have you tried the basket of laundry I washed three weeks ago that you never put away? Mooch, can you tell Mommy where Elmo went? He's big and red and plays loud, annoying music at totally random intervals, how hard can he be to find? This has caused quite a bit of frustration around here because A) I'm impatient and I get bitchy when my plans are delayed by missing objects. C) Whenever I nag my kids to help me find something my requests are met with whining and crying and gnashing of teeth. And C)Regardless of my years of organizational ineptitude everybody STILL asks ME when they can't find something. Why? Seriously people, wtf? I don't know where MY stuff is, how would I know where yours has gone?

So, clearly my family doesn't learn too quickly, and evidently neither do I, because it has taken me five and a half years to stumble upon the magical wonder tool called the Scavenger Hunt. Why did no one tell me about this? Over the past 2 days I've found stuff I never even knew we had, and the best part is that all I have to do is write it on a piece of paper, I don't even have to get up!

Much to my chagrin, I have to thank that whiny little bastard Caillou for this discovery. Skylar saw Caillou go on a scavenger hunt with his babysitter and asked me if we could do that. It seemed like an easy way to keep her out from underfoot for a few minutes, so I scribbled down a list of household objects likely to fit in a shopping bag: a button, a comb, a green crayon, a barbie etc. Then, from a mixture of inspiration and desperation I added -Mommy's cell phone, to the list. Success! She showed up a few minutes later with a bag full of junk and my phone! Done already? How about I write some more things? OK? How about Mommy's blue earrings, my driver's license, a roll of tape, my glasses, your library book, your mittens, my keys, the TV remote, Daddy's T4, the camera and Eden's splash pants? This is awesome!

There are other applications aside from finding lost stuff too. You can list every single thing lying around on the floor and 10 minutes later the room is clean! Or you can make up a slightly more difficult list with items such as dragon scales, invisible mittens, robotic spiders, leprechauns, dinosaur teeth, fairy wings, feline scuba gear, diamonds, ectoplasm, the holy grail and Elvis and not only will your kid be occupied for hours, you'll probably be rich when she's done!

Do the Potty Wheeze!

*Warning, the following post contains parental content, by which I mean that I am a parent and as such, there are times when I have to talk about my kid's poop. Sorry, that's just the way it is. If you don't want to hear about it, feel free to stop reading now.*

So I'm sick, as I may have mentioned. Yesterday I lost my voice completely and developed a really impressive gasping, painful kind of wheeze that had me propped up with pillows and stealing hits off of an inhaler prescribed for Eden ages ago and never used until now. This morning the breathing is better, but I still nestled my ass firmly on the couch after delivering Skylar to school and let Eden entertain herself by terrorizing the cats and eating handfuls of dry Lucky Charms from the box.

This system worked pretty well for us for an hour or two, until Eden came over to me yelling "Mommy, Mommy. Poop!" and making the "change diaper" sign with her hands. So I dragged my heavy carcass off of the couch and headed upstairs to the change table. I shoved off the cat (who was hiding from Eden) and unsnapped her diaper to find...nothing. It took my fever addled mind a while to process this. WTF child? There is no poop at all, why did you make me get up? Then a totally outlandish idea occurred to me.
"Eden, do you have to poop?" I rasped. "Do you want to poop on the potty?"
She nodded at me in her grave, wide-eyed way.
"OK, OK hang on!" I whispered.

Now, this kid has been utterly uninterested in the whole potty training scene. She has never made the slightest tinkle in the potty and looks rather scandalized and affronted when we suggest it. The potty has been sitting in the bathroom for months, but seeing as how she used to cry at the sight of it, it became more of a secondary towel rack. I flung the towels off of it and sat Eden down.
"OK, big girl" I croaked "Go ahead, make poo poo in the potty"
"Mama potty" She commanded, pointing at the toilet. So I sat.
"No, no pants!" Fine. I'll sit on my potty, you sit on yours. Will you please go poop now?

And she did!

Then she stood up, pointed into the pot and proclaimed "EEEWWW!"

Still pretty surprised, I made every effort to cheer and praise, but with the state of my voice it probably came out a little more scary and growly and demonic than happy, and it was punctuated with gasping coughing spells. Perhaps this is how people develop anal complexes. She never cracked a smile, just kept saying "Eew" and waving bye bye to her turd as it swirled down the john.

I (rather optimistically) let her run bare until nap time, but there was no repeat performance. Before nap I tried to put a diaper on her and boy was she ever pissed about that! So I went with a pair of training pants and I've resigned myself to changing the sheets when she gets up.

*Sob* my baby's growing up. And I just bought that Blueberry Minky diaper too!

My Hero

Eden: Dude, you're upside down. That is the coolest thing I've ever seen.
Skylar: Yes, I rock. Feel free to bask in my glory.


Eden: How is this accomplished? This doesn't seem quite right.
Skylar: Nice try, Idiot.


Skylar: Here, need a little manual assistance?
Eden: Fuckin' A!

Skylar: I'm gonna let go now, try not to break your neck, m'k?
Eden: Best. Day. Ever!

Eden: TA DA! We kick ass.
Skylar: And next I'll let you eat the goldfish crumbs my hair picks up while I'm down here.

Not the brightest Crayon in the box.

As you have no doubt noticed, my English is fairly lax. I certainly won't claim that this blog has been free from errors when it comes to spelling, punctuation, sentence structure and so on, but here's the thing: I'm doing this for my own personal amusement. It's not like it's my job to teach people to read or anything.

Every month Skylar's Kindergarten teacher sends home a newsletter, and every month the back of my neck scrunches up and my fingers itch to grab a big red pen and correct the hell out of that sumbitch and send it back in to school. I restrain myself because I don't want this person to know what a bitch I am and somehow take it out on my kid, so instead I think I will do some virtual editing. The following are some excerpts from the most recent newsletters. Bear in mind they are being written by a TEACHER not a student, and even though it's a french immersion class, English IS this woman's native tongue. The black will be direct quotations, the red is me.

February

We have enjoyed a wonderful month of January. We had lots of sunny days and studied penguins. Perhaps: January has been a wonderful month. Why the hell are sunny days and penguins in the same sentence? They HAD studied penguins? Maybe leftover penguins from some research facility were shipped in and served to the children at a BBQ on one of those sunny days?

We will be having a card exchange opportunity. That's a cheerful way to trade Valentines. Attached are a simple card template Just one IS attached.

The celebration's will take place on Feb.....celebrations

Anyone who would like to join us is more then welcome! Anyone? Really? Grandparents, cousins, the pedophile down the street? Sure! Anyone is more THAN welcome.

March

Everyday children receive a choice of three healthy items first thing in the morning. The everyday children get a choice, the special ones have to eat whatever they're given.

...the students have been asked to give something up for 24 hours. They have been asked to find a $2.00 sponsor to do so. The sponsor has to give something up? AND pay 2$? What a rip off!

Micheal Mitchell is coming to our school...He is a famous Canadian Musician. This one's not technically incorrect, it's just a lie. If he were really famous she wouldn't have to tell us who he is. Can you name me a Micheal Mitchell song? No, didn't think so.

And last but not least I will copy the entire paragraph under the rather ironic heading "Literacy" Anyone who can spot all the mistakes gets a gold star.

Literacy

The past few months, as we read stories, we would always ask good questions. Questions, help children develop their comprehension skills and strategies. Often, Kindergarten students ask "I wonder..." questions before turning the page. Try this at home when reading stories together. We will be continuing with questions, but also beginning to study visualizing. An more simpler way to explain this concept to young children, is to play a CD story (or read a story without looking at the pictures) and have them create a DVD (or the movie) in their mind. The students have enjoyed comparing their mental pictures as we have started developing this skill.

Take THAT English!

And now for some pictures that have nothing to do with this post but, you know ...cuuuute.

Elmo diaper! Gah! The cuteness, it burrrrrns!

Nudity Yes, Hygiene No

"Off? Off? Off? Off? Off? Wet? Wet? Wet? Dirty? Dirty? Off? Off? Wet? Off?"

This is Edenese for: I have spilled a microscopic droplet of water on the sleeve of my sweater and I now feel that it is imperative that we remove all of my clothing, including socks and diaper, please. (but you know, probably without the Please)

She's very insistent about it. She will pull at her clothing in ever-increasing desperation until I give in to the pathetic sight of her standing there with one arm protruding from the neck hole of her shirt and strip her off. Once she's nude she immediately clamps one hand on to each butt cheek and runs off, giggling madly and chanting "Bum! Bum! bumbumbumbummmm!" Once she gets over the joy of being reunited with her naked butt she becomes enthralled with her belly button, then she pinches her nipples and says "Ow" repeatedly, because apparently she's a massochist.

All of this is, of course, highly entertaining. If it were summer time I would let her run free in the yard to her heart's content, but as it's February this nudist phase is somewhat inconvenient. Our house is never really warm. Eden's carefree bum song is usually interspersed with random "Brrr, coooolds!" And then there are the puddles. We have pottys in various locations throughout the house and Eden even consents to sit on one from time to time, but actually peeing or pooping in them is not on her agenda. Instead she lets go wherever she happens to be standing, then very helpfully takes me by the hand, leads me to the mess and gives me my instructions: "Uh oh, clean up? Clean up! Uh oh!"

The potty is not going to waste though, oh no. In fact it's providing amusement for the entire family:







It's OK though, not like it's ever been used.

Star Light, Star Bright...

Skylar: Look there's the first star! Know what I wished? I wished for Eden to be good and nice. Either good or nice, both are OK.

Me: I wish for YOU to be good and nice. (The kid has been quite the turd lately)

Skylar: (ignoring me) Eden say "Un"

Eden: (the incredible parrot girl)Uh

Skylar: Good! Now say "Deux"

Eden: Duh!

Skylar: Trois?

Eden: Twa!

Skylar: Quatre?

Eden: Catta

Skylar: Cinque?

Eden: Sack

Skylar: Six

Eden: Seece

Skylar: Sept

Eden: Set

Skylar: Huit

Eden: Weet

Skylar: Neuf

Eden: Nuff

Skylar: Dix

Eden: Deece

Skylar: Yay Eden! Good job! Did you hear that Mama? I teached Eden her numbers in French. I think I got an extra surprise with my wish. I wished for her to be good or nice, and my wish made her good AND nice AND smart too! The smart was a surprise on top of my wish!

Aww, I guess I got my wish too. At least for a few minutes.

She Speaks!

Stop what you're doing. Big news right here. Eden's first sentence, uttered at 10:30 this morning:

"Kitty in shoe."

Yes! Brilliant! All the more so because it was entirely correct. There was, in fact, a Littlest PetShop giant-headed mutant cat figurine in her shoe.