GET OUT OF THE WAY I HAVE A NEW BABY....

Getting out when you have a newborn is quite a production.  

We ventured out to Superstore on a Friday night at 9:30pm and discovered that is the time when ALL new parents go grocery shopping.  Every other cart had a sleeping infant in their little bucket car seat snoozing and cruising up and down the aisles, pushed by nervous parents in sweatpants stopping every half aisle to hover over their kid to make sure it was still sleeping / breathing.

Here's how you get out of the house with a newborn...

There is only about a 2-3 hour window at any given time unless you can feed, change and burp your kid.  Even if the baby is an angel, odds are your boobs will tell you to go home or they will explode in public.

So.  First there is the repacking of 'the bag'.   I was on crack and thought I could get away with a diaper tucked in a big purse or small tote.  Uh. No.  I'm such an idiot.  I have discovered that not only do I need a bag,  I need a bag so big that I also need a friggen Sherpa to carry it.   Diapers, wipes, blankets, burp cloths, breast pads, change of clothes and don't forget a shirt for yourself in case you get slimed.  Oh, and then there is my wallet and keys and lists and crap. Due to my pregnant arrogance, my current diaper bag is not something cute and chic, its a cloth shopping bag.  This is an upgrade from the first outing in which the diaper bag was a plastic garbage bag (Andrew packed it).

Then there is the ordeal of getting a tiny floppy infant in a snug car seat without feeling like you're going to break their arms.   I'm not so good with this.  It has taken three weeks to figure this out without one or both of us bursting into sobs.  I still really question how badly I need to leave the house every time I have to stick him in it.

Then there is the warming and window scraping of the car.  This is followed by the ice picking and shoveling and salting of the stairs so no one slips and falls on the way to the car.  Andrew does this while Adam and I wait inside all bundled up sweating buckets waiting for it to be safe to step  outside.  We bought a snowblower, which takes care of the big shoveling, but if I had to do it myself, I would not be leaving the house until the spring thaw.

Finally, we get in the car.  The baby starts to sputter.  So we have to prioritize of errands. You never know if you have a couple of hours or 15 minutes.  My husband doesn't understand this window very well yet. Silly man, he thinks they should be done in geographical, not priority order.   Not me, I learn right quick.  You have to do the most dire errands first.  So far it turns out that the baby actually likes the car and being out so when we get home and he sleeps for another hour I'm like CRAP. I had time to do X, Y and Z but at that point its too much of a hassle to go back out.

Once I make it to our destinations, there is the frantic pace in which I race around the store, kicking the shelf and buying whatever falls off so I can get what we need and back to the car before the baby starts to cry or some other kid cries and my boobs threaten to explode.  I'm normally a frugal, contemplative shopper, but with the car running, the husband waiting and the baby sleeping lightly, I am like one of those contest winners who only has 60 seconds to run through the whole store filling their cart full of free groceries.  Except its not free, it costs WAY more because I don't look at prices or labels or anything and I buy way more than I need in case I never get out again. 

I'm not sure it will get easier.  Parents with older babies long for the easy 'potted plant' days when they just clicked the bucket in and out of the car.  Parents with toddlers long for the day when their kids couldn't walk and they didn't have to deal with drippy boots and their kids eating dirty cigarette butts off the ground.  People with teens long for the day when their kids didn't bitch about their legs being scrunched up in the backseat.

Thank goodness for online shopping.

How partying in my 20's prepared me for motherhood...

1. The night's just starting at 11pm, sometimes the party goes all night long.

2. Some guy is trying to get at my boobs all night.

3. After trying to get at my boobs all night, subject drinks too much, throws up and passes out.

4.  Gobbling crappy hand held meals at strange hours (2am, 4am).  Anything requiring a fork is too complicated.

5.  I practically more time getting ready to go out than I actually spend out of the house.

6.  Next day involves calling all my friends and incredulously telling them all about the night before in minute detail.

3am, a Joe Louis and some yoga...

Pregnancy makes for strange nighttime activities.  

Ironically, it would appear the body starts to get prepared for the strange hours, convenience foods and getting used to watching ALOT of TV.

Last night I woke up wide awake at 3am, fixing for a dirty old Joe Louis pastry, and snapped on some late night tv.  Not much is on at 3am, although earlier in the day I had taped some yoga on the PVR thinking maybe it might be something gentle I could handle.

Not so much, at least not that kind of stand on your head yoga.  Although I was fascinated enough by how skinny everyone looked to me and the setting was sort of zen and soothing and the yoga lady's voice was relaxing.   Isnt' that really what yoga is supposed to do?  The breathing part I could handle. (in between bites of Joe Louis).  I was back to sleep in no time.

Namaste.

If I could float until December 26th I would...

I had my first prenatal aquafit class tonight.

One would think that the absolute last thing one would want to do when they are carting around a huge gut would be to don spandex and head for a public facility. But that's exactly what I did.

It was actually great.

First there is the locker room realization. Apparently I am not the only one who looks like this while pregnant. There are at least 15 other women, in this city, due around the same time as me who also have packed on a good 25lbs in the name of parenthood and are complaining about backaches and not sleeping, who have dirty bathrooms and husbands who moan about frozen dinners two nights in a row. Sing it sista!

Then there is the realization that although florescent lighting might add about 50lbs and highlight cellulite, water makes you feel like you lost 50 and covers up all the McDonalds you've been pigging out on.

The best part though is that five minutes after I was submerged and bobbing around to dance remixes of golden oldies, I realized I was pain and complaint free for the first time in over two weeks. It was reasonably gentle and relaxing and since everyone else is submerged to their necks, even if there was a superstar aerobics bunny who doesn't look pregnant from behind, you don't have to see her or keep up.

The worst part was getting out of the water and back to gravity.

From now on Tuesdays are going to be my favorite night of the week.

Preggie Parking...

So today after work, after what I think has been a particularly taxing week due to 3 straight days of offsite meetings and a day back in the office with disgruntled people popping in every half hour asking if I was ignoring their email / phone call etc, despite an out of office message.

Anyway. I drag my pregnant, tired self to the grocery store after work. This week I am struggling with a over achieving body that has decided to produce too much of a hormone called "relaxin' (yeah, relaxin') that is making my ligaments relax ALOT. Sounds alright, but instead of joining Cirque de Soleil, its more like waddling and shuffling like an old lady and hoping my hip isn't going to fall off the bone like a well cooked turkey leg.

ANYWAY. I pull up to Superstore, dreaming of using the Expectant Mother parking right by the door, which I have yet to use, but today I REALLY needed it.

SO. Just as I am pulling up to the aisle where the primo parking spots are, a Mercedes with Quebec plates whips into one of the spots and a 50 year old woman jumps out and heads in. Quelle Bitch. At least there is another spot. Until another stupid Quebec driver in a big minivan cuts me off and takes up the other spot. So I think, ok, minivan, maybe this woman has a brood of unruly savages with her and she's pregnant again. NOPE. Out jumps a 30 something in short shorts and a flat stomach, not a kid in sight. If I wasn't so mad I would have cried. If I wasn't so tired I might have had the energy to key her Caravan.

PREGNANT PARKING is for PREGNANT people who are hot and tired and swollen and hormonal and maybe a few frazzled new mothers who will fantasize about laying their baby on a nice soft rack of Wonderbread with a My name is... note if they don't get some Tylenol, a frozen lasagne and baby gas medicine fast.

We be strollin'....

We purchased a bunch of baby things today. This little human needs alot of crap.

As usual, I worked my bargain magic and everything was on sale. Change pad, bath tub, nursing pillow, bouncer seat and a booster chair that will hopefully avoid the need for a high chair. Some of the chicks in the book club have them and the critters love them.

But the piece de resistance, and biggest bargain of all is the Quinny Speedi SX stroller. It was also on sale - HALF OFF!! $150 instead of $299.

Its many things I swore I didn't want in a stroller - its kind of big and kind of heavy despite having a lightweight aluminum frame, but its AWESOME. Very manouverable, fits through the doorways in our old house. Extendable handle so Andrew can drive, air filled tires for a smooth ride, collapses and sets up in about a second. And its cool lookin'. So cool that we can actually drive it in the snow.

Time's a tickin' now. I'm seeing Christmas stuff in the store and the Wish Book is out. The leaves are starting to turn red on the trees and our first prenatal class is next week. I'm getting kicked in the bladder about 20 times a day now and can watch my stomach morph into new wacky shapes. We're having a KID! Crazy.

Its like sardines, I tell you...

I feel like my organs are packed in like a can of sardines. I have my office chair and my car seat in the most reclining position that still allows me to see my monitor / out the window safely for some breathing room.

I can handle the constant pressure on my bladder, my ribs and feeling like I might explode by 7pm at night. I'm not a wimp when it comes to physical discomfort. What worries me is that I still have several months to go and I am clearly already out of interior cargo space. Crap. So I assume from here on in, this is when it stops being cute and the seams just get more and more stretched and things get real ugly.

I will know when that day truly comes because my wonderful husband will continue with the "you're beautiful, Honey" song and dance but I will see the fear behind the brave face he's putting on, hiding the "Holy Crap, how friggen big can my wife get before she explodes? in his eyes". Me, I am just waiting for the morning when I wake up and I look down and the covers look like Jiffy Pop compared to when I went to bed.

Ronry, I so ronry...

Andrew has been away since last Sunday, taking son #1 camping in the Rockies. I'm glad that they went, 15 is a tough crowd, there are alot of distractions at that age. Its hard to find things to do with him that we all enjoy. He's not hard to please, his ideal weekend would be a trip to Futureshop for a new game, followed by a fine meal of foot long subs or chicken fingers. After dinner, he'd let out a burp of appreciation, takes his socks off, crack his knuckles and slip away into XBOX land for as long as we will let him go. He's happy as a clam, you barely know there is a kid in the house. Which is not exactly what we're looking for when we've been looking forward to having a kid in the house. So when he shows any interest in anything that is not video games, we go with it and hope it sticks.

I tell Andrew that having a teenage boy around has taught me lots about what to appreciate about having a baby boy. Things like to get in as much hugging and kissing and cuddling as we can before he cuts us off at around 10 or 11. Or cherishing when he looks at you like you're a ROCK STAR when he's 4 because by the time they're 14, that look is replaced by eye rolling and they think you're a big dork unless you happen to have a super cool job like blowing up stuff or shooting things.

Anyway, its important that they get the man time alone together. Normally I enjoy having the house to myself and a break from cooking supper and shaving my legs. But this has been a weird week of scary nightmares, weird noises that I can't blame on Andrew (our house is about 100 years old, so when the weather changes the house creak), dealing with intruders - the squirrels get aggressive around now and do things like try and gang bang the garbage cans or cling to the kitchen window screen. I've also had no one to show all the neat stuff I've been dragging home and the baby has been moving around which is really weird and exciting and although I have friends here they are all prego too and like 'Oh yeah, I've had that for weeks'.... Andrew also compliments me alot, and it kind of sucks to get dressed in the morning and not have anyone tell me I look nice. Or that supper was good (he actually wouldn't be thrilled with all the take out this week). I've had no one to spoil or bug.

I'm glad the boys had a good time on their camping trip, I hope it was good enough that they'll want to do them for many years to come, its fun to think about Cody at 30 and Andrew at 50 and the new critter at 15 heading out for an annual man trip, but I have learned this week that I am no longer cut out to be home alone for more than a week at a time. I can't wait for him to get home.

I'm being eaten by zombies. (and other pregnant dreams)...

I've always had fairly vivid dreams...

Lately though, thanks to the extra hormones racing around, I have been having the most bizarre, crazy, lucid dreams I have ever had in my whole life. I've dreamt about people and things I haven't seen in years. I've had baby dreams where I'm forgetting the baby or feeding it something weird or holding it wrong. Sometimes they are naughty Jackie Collins type of dreams. I get those. They make sense. But then there are the freaky nightmares that come from who knows where, and those are really disturbing and freaking me out.

Last night I woke up from my latest "zombies are coming to get you dream" all sweaty and gasping and tangled and had to turn all the lights on and watch some soothing vacuous HGTV before I could get back to sleep a couple hours later.

The general theme seems to be 'things are going well, then it starts to go real bad and gets real scary and because of one simple, critical error on my part (like not locking the door or charging my cell phone) it leads to me being trapped, then devoured by scary zombie monsters, chased down by people who are going to torture me, the kids get stolen or the house falls down and I can't wake myself up, and its my own damn fault.

So what's going on? A fear of intrusion? Of being trapped? The spicy pizza I ate for supper playing tricks on me? Making an irreversable mistake? I'm betting on the mistake thing. When I was a kid and made a stupid mistake and was upset about it my mother would say "Calm down, Child, no one is going to come cut your legs off over it." Which is true, except in my dreams they do. And then eat them in front of me.

All I know is that if it doesn't mellow out I am going to be one wicked property developer from all of the late night HGTV shows I'm watching at 3am.

An afterthought. (after I Googled 'Zombies")

Control and related themes of power and exploitation are basic to the voodoo zombie. "They work faithfully and are not worried about long hours," Zombies of the Haitian Voodoo variety represent a loss of cognition/consciousness and also a loss of free will.

By "controlling" another person and eliminating that persons ability to make choices, let alone engage in conscious thought, the "controller" has reduced that person to the level of an animal and has robbed him of his humanity. To fear zombification, then, is to fear exploitation.

Maybe the 'zombies' are all the other parents who keep warning me that I will need to just submit and join them in faithful servitude to Kids and I'm afraid of being devoured by parenthood and losing myself. How's that for deep?

YOU PEOPLE never...

My mother and I have been chatting alot lately about children and child rearing lately. My mother is the type to never come right out and say 'YOU SHOULD". She will say.

"Well, YOU PEOPLE (meaning my brothers and I) NEVER did that."

Examples of what 'us people' did and didn't do...

• YOU PEOPLE had to take turns watching what you wanted to watch on TV, there were 6 people in the house and one TV for everyone.
• YOU PEOPLE said please and thank you and knew your place with adults - down the totem pole where you belong.
• YOU PEOPLE weren't allowed to "gallavant the streets at night" (for most people this was going to a 7 o'clock show, not 'gallavanting')
• YOU PEOPLE weren't allowed to touch what wasn't yours. I never put any of my nice things away, and we could take YOU PEOPLE anywhere and you weren't savages.
• Mostly it was just "YOU PEOPLE were just TOLD....blah blah blah and you just did it".

When its something that she as a mother probably should not have let us get away with, she blames it on my father. Well, your father would never....so we didn't.

Examples of what my father would never do...(and still won't)

• Eat vegetables, tropical fruit like plums or peaches, just apples and bananas. No noodles in any kind of 'exotic' shape other than spaghetti or rice in any other context besides Chinese food.
• Let us watch M.A.S.H. or anything else that may be on while 'his news or his show' was on.
• Give a shit what anyone else had or was doing, whether it was good or bad.
• Pass by a Tasty Treat without stopping or limit options once we were there.
• Be able to keep a surprise a secret even if you duck taped his mouth shut.

Its almost AUCTION season again!!!!

I have a whole new focus this time. Even though we don't currently have room for a full on nursery, I still have nursery plans. If I buy enough furniture, Andrew will eventually have no choice but to buy me a house.

Baby furniture is surprisingly flimsy for items that are supposed to withstand children, theoretically from infancy until you kick the little suckers out for university. Pressed wood and laminate, all at hardwood prices, because they know you are totally irrational when pregnant and your husband is scared of you and your hormones and will let you have whatever you want.

So we have the sleigh crib. Jacob the two year old tested it and seemed to give it a soggy thumbs up. Now I want and armoire and change table/dresser. And I want to paint them black or red. And I want them to look old and antiquey. Solid hardwood stuff comes up all of the time at the auctions, so I'm pretty sure I can get something similar to the high end stuff like the pieces below, which would be about $5000, for a few hundred than paint them for 90% of the look for 10% of the cost.

I also really enjoy this farm quilt. Its a little pricey and I haven't become irrational enough to spend $150 on a "My Little Farm" baby quilt set. Partially because these days they tell you to put them in a crib with nothing but a sheet or they will smother or choke to death and even though I think its stupid and unlikely, I'm not going to be the first to allow her kid to smother or choke on a tractor applique.

Its also partly because I know at that price I wouldn't actually let the Kid touch it with its grubby little mitts. I'd like to hang it on the wall as art. Hmmm. Art is clearly a more justifiable expense than bedding. Its practically and investment. Really, enough with the justifications, all I need to do is show it to Andrew and make him love it - because if he loves something he will just buy it and enjoy it without guilt or shame.

Its not exactly what I thought....

My personal observations on pregnancy that I expected but were different than I thought.

"Tired" I am not just tired, I am falling asleep in my supper at 6pm kind of tired.

"Getting Big" Sadly being taller and larger framed is no insurance against exploding like a can of caulking, holding more water than a resevoir or having control over 'how' I will distribute the baby weight, even though I have gained exactly by the book.

"Baby Brain". People have stopped trusting me with anything of any consequence because I am brain dead and have the attention span of a flea. I have forgotten to do stuff, walked out of a store without paying for something I tried on (and left on) and missed appointments.

"Holy Crap Moments" There are times when I panic a little. I worry that I 'just wont' take to' this parenting thing. I can deal with meltdowns and diapers and moldy chicken nugget dinosaurs in my purse, its really a localized fear and hatred of 'children's music and programming' . I plan to enjoy fun music and appropriate shows with the Kid, but I just know that no matter how much the Kid enjoys grooving to to the cool SRV version of Mary Had a Little Lamb http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaX7Y1GQl5wLamb (its not like the lamb gets drunk or stoned or Stevie says the F-word in the cool version) and watching Discovery someone will feel bad for the Kid and think we are big meannies and introduce the Kid to Dora.

"My kid will never.....". You will find yourself silently judging and evaluating everyone else's parenting and children's behavior. Its tolerable for others only because they did the same thing -they just roll their eyes back at you for being dumb enough to judge someone else's parenting when you have no children.

"I will be practical and frugal, pregnancy is temporary and babies grow way too fast" Wrong again. I got excited and bought maternity clothes too soon, I have already outgrown a couple things. Whoops. I justify it by reasoning that I will wear them post baby while I'm getting back in shape. I have also bought more than one irrationally priced cute baby item and pretty much overspent on pretty much everything I've bought so far. The most recent of which was a designer stuffed sheep from the baby boutique and $4 infant socks. (they were both so soft and squishy). Now when I see the two sheep together I want to go back and buy the big one too. I like to sit the sheep on my stomach.

Before you throw out all those low rise pants because you're too old for them and you don't want to be lumped in with Britney and her fall from glory, keep them around a little while longer if you plan on getting preggers. If you are anything like me you will not enjoy many of the maternity options available to you in early pregnancy...

Your old regular pants: You might get away with these for a little while, but you will eventually be popping buttons left right and center, ruining your regular clothes and not being particularily comfortable. Put them away.

Full panel maternity pants: They have thier place in the pregnant world, but they are meant for big bellies with a good enough basketball to fill them out tautly and hold them up. They are the ugliest and the least appealing of the bunch, like the granny underwear of pants. It feels like you're wearing thick cotton granny underwear and they're sticking up over your pants 10 inches and your pants are falling down.

Hidden panel or adjustable waist pants: In theory they should look the best, with no visible stretch panel. The elastics are held in place by buttons, and you can let them out as you need too. For me, I find the elastics annoying, they're scratchy, they don't stay tucked in so it looks like you have to little pokey things sticking out. They also give you a bunchy butt, because all the adjusting happens in the back and gives you a paper bag effect in the waist area, like a pair of comfort waist pants from Tabi that your Nana would wear.

Demi Panel: Ah, that's more like it. A big 4-5 inch band at the top of the pants holds everything in place snugly without falling down. These might not be what I am wearing at 9 months but I'm pretty sure someone will have to burn them to get me to stop wearing them 9 months after the baby comes. Everyone should have a pair of these for long car trips and fat days and Thanksgiving. They can be difficult to find but are SO worth it.

Low rise: Just when I thought I was too old, I have discovered a new use for the junior section. Low rise and super low rise jeans with the really long tank tops all the kids who weren't around in the 80's are wearing now are awesome for newer bellies. And its cheaper than actual maternity jeans, which are a total rip off. They go under the gut, the tank top goes over the gut. Do not attempt without a long enough shirt or you will look all trailer park-ish.

BMW X3 vs Hyundai Tucson

Hyundai Tucson $26k. Warranty: 5 years / 100,000km

BMW X3 $45k

Warranty: 4 years / 80,000 km

Ultrasound: Like tapping on the aquarium glass...

We had an ultrasound on Monday, which was pretty interesting experience. Andrew was with me for this one. The first one I had there wasn't really much to see except a pulsating peanut.

This time, there was WAY more to see. Arms and legs waving, hiccups, a head with eyes and a nose and mouth. Way more than a pulsating peanut.

Of course after I had a few moments of wonder and amazement I immediatly starting scoping out to see if I could see any dangler for a early determination of gender, and then scanning to see if I could detect any obvious problems with my Google medical degree. Two arms. Check. Two legs. Check check. Head. Check.

The sonographer was a very pleasant muslim lady who had a total poker face the entire time, she was calm, cracking a little joke here and there but I'm sure they are trained not to shriek in horror or gush all over someone and tell them its the most perfect fetus they've ever seen.

In order to get the shot they were looking for (the ultrasound was for a very routine test that measures something in the neck to identify genetic abnormalities) I had to get up and do a few belly dance moves to make junior change from its nice relaxed lounge chair position, when I got back on the table, it was upside down, and PISSED. Lots of flailing.

We thought it was amazing. We think the picture is brilliant and crisp and shows everything in perfect detail, we could see more on the screen, I swear. When we show it to other people they have to squint and stare and turn it on its end and then they say .....Oh....Iiiiiii see now.

Its like a magic eye poster. (or they are just being polite).

So many things. I'll start with the truck.

I bought a new truck tonight. Holy Crap. My first new car.

Its a Hyundai Tucson, V6, sparkly Mesa Red. I splurged for the auto starter so I never have to get in a too hot or too cold truck. Yay. Its is not the little white BMW X3 with black leather of my dreams but its close enough for less than half the money. As my mother used to say: The name is Ramsey, not Rockerfeller, and I'm more likely to be wearing Gap than Gucci.

What a draining experience buying a vehicle is. There is always another $20 or $50 or awesome special for you to get sucked into. Luckily Andrew was there to wheel and deal for me and we really milked the whole pregnant and too tired to put up with any crap thing.

I pick it up on Saturday am. I get to drop my piece of shit 11 year old Cherokee off, with its crappy air conditioning, crappy speakers, crappy brakes, no backup lights, funny clunking and rattling noises... Au Revoir!

Stay tuned for Vegas update and ultrasound photos....

Lululemon: My mother would kill me if she knew how much these shorts cost....

Being pregnant and seeking comfort around every corner has lead me to Lululemon. I used to pish tosh Lululemon. There was nothing there for me. Overpriced. Overhyped. Leave it to those skinny bitches in their McMansions and fancy SUV's and $1200 strollers and Bikram yoga.

Until now. There's magic in them there pants. I don't know what they put in them but they are soft and thick enough to make it look like your natural butt doesn't appear as if you've just gotten up after sitting on a textured couch for a LONG time. I swear there's even a little lift built in. On top of that they size things so often you need to take a size DOWN from what you normally are, which is marketing genius when it comes to spandex products.

I found a pair of long shorts that I had a hard time taking off to take to the cash register, which is saying alot considering I came in wearing stretch capris with a stretch demi panel.

I was afraid to try on anything else. If the shorts are that good on my really bad butt and legs, I can only imagine the impact a spectacular sports bra or support tank would have on my already magnificant bazongas right now.

Its totally out of control....

I'm totally wrecked this week. Andrew is in Halifax for the week and I'm a little glad the King is out of town so I can lay on the couch and lay off the household Martha crap for a few days without anyone complaining and moving all my stuff huffing and puffing like their office isn't a total pigsty and the clothes that are supposed to be IN the dresser are still ON the dresser 2 weeks later.

Apparently, our lifestyle is spiralling out of control since the Bodysnatcher came along. The magic fridge where all the yummy homemade food just appears for him seems to be broken and all that's left in the linen closet are the scratchy little towels. We have dust bunnies. He's been forced to eat canned soup for lunch SEVERAL times in the last few weeks. And all he's had to go with it is the same home made double chocolate banana cake...DAY after DAY. Its awful.

Its a dire situation. He's very protective of his meal quality and now that happy secure place is threatened now that I can't stay alert enough to responsibly use the stove past 6pm. AND ITS ONLY GOING TO GET WORSE... Like frozen dinner and take out worse.

You have no idea what its like to only have one kind of juice in the fridge. If you let these things get out of hand, an inch becomes a mile, and the next thing you know you've gone from drinking organic strawberry mango banana to Tang made with tap water and without even realizing it you've hit Juice Skid Row.

So. Since he is way better at complaining than actually picking up a broom or taking a list to the grocery store, we're going to get a housekeeper to come in and look after the dust bunnies so I can concentrate on fixing the magic fridge.

I'm coming out of the closet....

Because hardly anything in my closet it still fits!

As some of you already know, we are expecting a special delivery this year at Christmastime! A new baby! We're very excited. Crazy excited.

How we knew:
I could smell my neighbors on the other side of our semi baking hot chocolatey fudgey brownies, except it turned out that they were just eating an regular old Easter Bunny from Shoppers Drug Mart, so I got suspicious that I could smell chocolate through a concrete wall and decided to investigate further.

How I feel:
I seem to have pulled the lucky straw, very little morning / noon / night sickness. At least nothing that can't be remedied by a can of hot steamy Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli and 10 hours of sleep a day.

How I look:
Like I've been eating too much Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli and its catching up to me.

My current positions on pregnancy and childbirth:

• I am still going to dye my hair. There is no clinical evidence to suggest it does anything but distract you from feeling fat and ugly.
• I'm taking a pre-natal vitamin and making every effort to eat more fruit and vegetables, but when I want something crappy I will have it.
• I'm not trying to win any awards by making it to five months in my regular clothes. Elastic waists ROCK. I'm not waiting until I have muffin top, camel toe and PCIB (Pants stuck in bum) to embrace a nice stretchy waist. In fact, I might have a hard time giving the stretch panel up and have plans to market it to a wider crowd of plus size and man-pants called the 'Six Pack Pants' (when you'd rather drink a six pack instead of have one) No more exposed hairy guts or plumber butt crack.
• I will respond to rude comments like "YOU'RE HUGE!" with an equally rude comment ('Wow, so is your mouth!")
• I hate people touching me and I will not hesitate to give anyone who tries to a good honk back. Close friends and family may be offered a narrow window of opportunity to maul me from time to time during which time I will stiffen and tolerate it without scratching or hissing.
• BRING ON THE DRUGS. Drug free childbirth sounds about as sane to me as novocaine free dentistry. Don't drug me Dr., I want to FEEL you scrape that nerve along with hearing and smelling the drill so I can get the total experience. As long as its safe for the baby, I will have my big juicy veins all ready for the big needle. I know myself in pain. I have been through several gallbladder attacks with unrelenting pain for 12 hours straight and I would have sold my poor little mother to get the morphine drip in faster.
• Immediate post partum support. I'm hiring a DOULA. Here's why. I would prefer that most of my friends and family assume that the stork brought the baby and underneath my clothes are smooth generic Barbie parts. There is alot of adjustment junk, partial nudity and gross personal issues to deal with before there is any hope of being comfortable or discreet. So I am thinking I'd like an impartial professional whose seen more pendulous bare boobs than the Pam Anderson fan club helping me with my latch than people who I love and have to sit across the dinner table from later and look in the eye. No CSI crime scene photos of the birth either.

That's all I know so far.

Next week we will be in Vegas and I have the Faith Hill song "Hey Baby lets go to Vegas" stuck in my head...

Antiques Roadshow Fantasy Brought To Life....

So today I was contacted by the auction company and asked if I was interested in re-selling my little painting that I bought at the last auction.

Apparently there was another interested buyer who missed out on it and gave them a big sob story about how it looks just like their family cottage, blah blah blah and they missed it when it came up for bidding. "They don't care how much, they REALLY want it"

Reality check. I'm sure they don't really mean they would pay anything for it. They are probably thinking $50. I like it more than $50. I sat through ALOT of boring little china figurines and teacups waiting for it and I was expecting more competition for it.

Another little known tidbit about this painting. It looks just like a Kathleen Morris or Nora Collyer style of painting and I loved that about it as soon as I saw it. http://www.klinkhoff.com/beaver-hall-ex/index.html.en The last Collyer I saw go up for auction went for over $100k. That's One Hundred Thousand Dollars.

Art doesn't need to be expensive. No one should ever buy art that they don't love, no matter what its 'worth'. If you love something, don't worry about 'what it goes with', just get it and you will find a place for it. Above all else art should make you feel something when you look at it. I got my painting for $15 and it makes me just as happy as the 100k Collyer.

Knowing that someone else is still thinking about my painting reaffirms for me that its a great piece, and exactly the kind of thing that me and my guests will enjoy looking at for a long time.

That said, if I found out its a rare 100k painting that has been lost for 50 years, that sucker is out the door and we're buying a house.

I feel so bad for little old men...

There is a little old man I see on my way to work every day. He's very little. He lives in a neat little bungalow with an impeccably groomed yard, and he always has on a clean pair of pants, a pressed shirt and suspenders. He looks like a little old farmer who is in his good clothes visiting town for the day.

He's obviously very capable of looking after himself, he looks healthy and he always has a steady stream of people walking their dogs and pushing their strollers and fellow yard people chatting with him. What makes me really sad is I'm pretty sure that he lives alone and when he goes in the house he's by himself most of the time. He seems so happy and animated when he's talking to people but sometimes I drive by when he's alone and he looks like he's just waiting and wishing for someone else to come along and talk to him.

Mostly its because I think about how lonely my own husband gets if he's left alone for a few hours and I can't bear to think of him alone.

Old ladies are tough old broads, when I see an old woman I tend to have respect for her and think she's probably taken a lickin' and kept on tickin'. They get snarky. Most women I know long for people to leave them alone, time to themselves..they don't want to be alone all of the time so they call girlfriends or join little clubs. Old men seem to get rumpled, isolated and eat canned beans and start to shrink without women in their lives.

Women (I think) are a little tougher than men and a little better at taking their lumps. Women can take the crap in life and make a crappy quilt and fluff a lumpy bed and make the best of it. Men practically kill themselves working to change stuff. And sometimes its all that work not for anything better, just for something different. Silly boys.

Bottom line is, I seem to be fine with my getting old, but the thought of my husband getting old and being lonely, wandering around in the front yard every morning hoping people will talk to him for a little while just makes me want to eat more fiber and take my vitamins and live forever to save him that fate.

I've created a monster...

I took Andrew to an auction yesterday. Normally he doesn't go with me, one of the auctioneers is a woman with a really grating voice and its kind of like being nagged, but for some reason he felt like joining me and the neighbor, which made the neighbors's husband want to go to.

They say that women are the shoppers and spenders, but when you combine shopping with competition and a little bit of gambling you get men's sport shopping. Auctions.

Normally when I go to the auction I spent $50 and bring home a painting or a box of crap or if I'm really lucky a table and a dresser AND a box of crap. Yesterday with Andrew on board, we needed movers.

When we first got there he wasn't that interested in anything, but the auction started and when they got to the dressers, the guy said the magic words "BIG and HEAVY" and the next thing I knew Andrew was waving our bidding number around and bidding WAY past my usual comfort zone. I think my shock egged him on more. I was sweating and grabbing for the bidding paddle. I wouldn't have been more surprised if he ripped his clothes off and ran up and down the aisle naked. He loves anything big and heavy (bodes well for me!) and without actually really looking at the stuff or consulting me he bought 2 big solid, very traditional mahogany dressers. First rule of auctions - kick the tires (check for damage and missing parts, cracks, stains etc....) Luckily they turned out to be in pretty good shape, they even still have the key for the locks...

He was STOKED after that, and started scanning for something else and laid his big pretty blue eyes on a great big hutch and buffet. Funny for it to be the biggest, heaviest thing in the entire room. Its one inch taller than he is. And I was sucked in because I thought it might complete my "Restoration Hardware" on a dime look. www.restorationhardware.com

While he left to scurry home to get tarps and straps and tie down stuff and while he was gone I bid on and won the buffet - for $350. It started at $200 with only one other person bidding and whenever I'm in that situation I mostly just wish the other person had never been born so I could have gotten it even cheaper. More sweating and barf tingles and holy crap what did I just buy and is it going to actually fit in our house? The neighbor had to fan me down when she got back from the bathroom.

The funny part is when Andrew got back the neighbor told him I got it for $600 and he was wicked excited, he thought that was a steal, so he was just elated to find out it was actually almost half that much. Ha ha.

After that I felt pretty good about bidding on some more stuff. So I got a painting and a bunch of brass decorative stuff to stick in the hutch....Cheapy cheapy. Five dollar. Two of the items still had the $40 price tag from The Bay on them.

After all that stress, we were tired and ended up hiring movers to move it all. They dropped it off and I felt grown up for about 10 minutes before I dropped one of the glass shelves to the buffet and smashed it. Shleprock. It looks SO good in our dining room. So good that after we were in bed, under the covers, lights out we had to get up, run downstairs and admire it some more. (even with the missing shelf).

My Restoration Hardware inspired room for under $1000.

Dinner with the herd...

My aunts and uncles who are in or approaching their 70's were at our house last night, they do a road trip almost every year, this year it took them through Ontario, and we made the list. They are hilarious.

I have another cousin who married a guy who sounds like he is half saint, is really churchy and he loves our crowd so much he changed HIS last name to be Ramsey, so that's a tough act to follow. But they LOVE Andrew. My aunt climbed up on a chair to give Andrew a hug and kiss.

I'm not sure if my husband was surrounded by many loud foolish relatives around growing up, because he just eats up everything they say, he loves being part of a rowdy herd. And they are always picking on him and teasing him. We told them we were going to see the grand canyon and my uncle Bob said we were going to be looking down at the grand canyon saying "Whoa, look at the size of that" and the grand canyon would be looking up at Andrew saying "Whoa, look a the size of that guy".

The dinner went well. The lady at the butchers said there is only one thing you serve to senior crowd, that is a nice bone-in ham. I didn't know how to cut it up, my aunt looked like she was dying to take the knife from me and save it from my artistic stylings.

My uncle assessed my $50 auction bargain dining room table and said it would have cost me about $5-800 to buy it anywhere else and to buy new like that now would probably be a couple grand, and it still wouldn't be as good quality.

VEGAS, baby!

We booked our tickets to Vegas this week. We're going in June and I have started a whole list of tacky tourist things I want to do when we get there. I want to see the fountain at the Bilagio, I want to see the tunnel with all of the lights, I want to see a showgirl show with the plumes and sparkles, I want to people watch and see all of the crazy sights.

On the way back we're going to drive to Phoenix with a pit stop at the Grand Canyon. I've never been there. This is going to be a LOOOONG drive, but I think it will be worth it.

Its funny to go to a place that I have seen on TV about a million times. Its almost like going to a movie set. I fully expect to see Stokes and Willow investigating a crime scene, George and the boys running a racket, Nicholas Cage jumping out of a plane in an Elvis suit and mob guys coming back from the desert all bloody with a shovel in their trunk. And at least one exploding car.

Facebook...what did I do with all my free time before you?

This Facebook thing is pretty interesting. If you aren't on it, your'e pretty much out of the loop on the biggest craze since the Crackberry. A month ago hardly anyone was on it, and now you're a total loser if you aren't on it. I'm hearing from people I haven't laid eyes on since high school.

Its addictive, and alot of fun because everyone else is also addicted and they keep it up to date. I'm sure more than one workplace is going to shut it down because people are on it all of the time.

A bunch of years ago, I guess what people did was have chit chats at the grocery store or spread the gossip around over the backyard fence and you saw people on Sunday at church, so you had a natural outlet to see who was getting fat (are they pregnant or just hitting the Hagan Daaz?), who was going bald and who you wanted to kick because they looked too perfect all of the time.
Not everyone you met on the street or had a polite chit chat made the Christmas card list, but you were still interested in their news and they in yours. And sometimes you'd run into people you and just say 'C'mon over on Saturday, bring the kids!" and it wasn't a big deal.

But we don't all live in the same place like the old days and I suspect that even if we did people just don't have the time to connect. So this is seems to be replacing the old "hey how's it going? that you would naturally encounter in every day life if you lived in the same little town and knew everyone.

I can go for weeks in Ottawa and not run into someone I know. I'm always shocked when I do and I'm beyond expecting to see people I know. I think my Dad would hate that. My Dad walks 10 paces down the Mayflower Mall in Sydney and before he gets from the Wal Mart to the Suzy Sheir, he's got 3 new sign orders, found out the medical status of half the north end and has someone coming over Wednesday to look at why the lawn isn't thriving.

This gives me hope. It means that people still want to connect with one another. Face to face got replaced by the phone, the phone got replaced by email and we lost something, because in phone and email, you had to have a 'reason' to 'dial' the phone or fire off an email. Now you can just post 'this is what I did / am interested / wish today' and everyone can see and respond. And you can see what other people are up to and make a snappy, timely comment and cheer them on or validate their bad day without it being a big thing. No big whoop. Mostly I think that everyone assumes that everyone else is busy doing something more exciting than talking to you. Clearly with the amount of time everyone is spending on this and how much people seem to be enjoying it, everyone is watching a little less American Idol (or googling less medical conditions at work) and connecting again.

Who farted?

Which causes more greenhouse gas emissions, rearing cattle or driving cars?

Surprise! According to a new report published by the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization, the livestock sector generates more greenhouse gas emissions as measured in CO2 equivalent – 18 percent – than transport. It is also a major source of land and water degradation.

So, we decided on our trip that we would make an effort to reduce the amount of meat we eat to try and offset the huge gas guzzling Nissan Titan in our driveway. Since I was vegetarian for awhile, this isn't a stretch for me. I think we can stand to reduce meat by about 75% without suffering one little bit. Andrew is secure enough in his manhood to not need a slab of meat at every meal to be satisfied and has an adventurous enough palatte to accomodate some of the wilder ethnic stuff. We've been on a long slow road for the last couple years replacing chemicals with natural stuff and choosing organic wherever we can. We're off the household chemicals except dish detergent and unscented laundry soap and there's be 0 impact except our house doens't smell like "fake pine" or 'simulated ocean breeze'.

We don't plan on eliminating meat entirely, just reducing it where it won't be missed. There is still a time and place for a nice big hunk of grilled critter. As long as its organic.

Some pictures from our trip...

Crispy Critters

We're in our final hours of our trip, we've checked out of our room and have some time to kill before we get the bus to the airport in a couple hours. Andrew just checked the weather in Ottawa and its -2. Its 34 degrees here today. Its going to suck to wake up there tommorow. I might turn up the heat and put my bathing suit on around the house anyway. We spent a little too much time in the sun trying to soak it all in today so I have a crispy fried sunburn and I can feel the heat radiating off my arms.

We have had a fabulous time. I would recommend this place to anyone looking for a nice relaxing adults only place to decompress for a week.

We thought we'd come to all kinds of big life conculsions this week with all this time to relax and think but mostly all we came up with was a brain flushed of stress. I literally sat on the beach for hours today without thinking about anything. Nothing. Totally vacant. Screensaver mode.

We decided to buy a deep freeze when we get home. I'm not sure that constitutes a major life decision. We also got some perspective on how fat we are, and how fat we aren't from watching everyone else pad around in tiny triangles of lycra (and lack thereof), so we're going to do something about that.

Two thumbs up for Catalonia Royal, Punta Cana Dominican Republic.

Hola from Paradise.

We're just past half way on our vacation and so far its surpassing our expectations. Our resort has two sides, a really large side with kids and big buffets, restaurants and a disco and big pool, very lively, lots of action. We are on the "Royal" side which is over 18, much quieter and there is a private pool, restaurant and beach section for the 100 or so rooms in this section. Its perfect - we have all the action without any of the noise. Not that there's alot of that around here either, the whole place is super quiet after 7pm.

Aside from the occasional loud smoking french Canadian who you wish you could tranquilize with a blow dart on the beach, its nice and quiet, clean and the food is generally pretty good. Its like eating at someone else's house or cottage for a week, you might not like everything they serve, but you also might stumble on something you didn't know you like.

Its been all about the beach and enjoying the peace and quiet. The staff are friendly, the people watching is great. There are lots of topless sunbathers on our beach, which isn't always a good thing depending on the age / size / elasticity of the skin of the person in question.

We did a catamaran tour with snorkling and a visit to a natural pool with carribean waters. We had too much Mama Juana, which is basically Dominican screech, and spent the next day moaning and in air conditioning. Mama didn't Juana much after that.

There are some little huts next to the beach with people selling things, I wandered over there the other day and they swoop in on you and try and sell you everything. A lady came over and braided a section of my hair in the carribean braids with little beads on the end and when I said I wasn't interested in getting the whole thing done the man said, Oh, Seniorita, you get them done and give your husband Carribean fantasy tonight - he will LOVE it.

Ah, more relaxing ahead.

Dove: Do women need to be naked to be beautiful?

We were watching the TV last night, and the Dove commercial came on (the one with all of the different sized and shaped women) and my stepkid makes a gagging noise and starts talking about how him and his stepfather think that its gross and that he really hates the one with old women - no one needs to see that. BLECH.

I agree with what Dove is trying to do. www.dove.ca I made the point to young grasshopper that commercials are designed to target the people who will actually buy the products, and men aren't big Dove consumers so why shouldn't they pick women who look like the women who buy their stuff. I'd love to see more regular selling me products, most of us aren't 20, and if you're over 30 you just look stupid trying to look 20, so lets broaden the scope and see a few more ways to look good at 30, 40, 50 and beyond. Without botox.

HOWEVER. While they get the idea across that people come in all shapes and sizes, colors, I think young grasshopper might have identified a sociological scab for me to pick.

This kid wouldn't say peep about an adult woman's body to her face. So why the scrutiny now? Because its shoved in his face. He rarely gets an opportunity to see more than arms and legs and I"m sure that's just fine by him and fine by us. I don't want other women flaunting their good in front of him either. The point is, we don't need to see naked grandmas and people's personal flabby bits to know women aren't hideous after if they're over 30 an/or weigh more than 130lbs. We all know enough women to know that's not true.

So Yay, for the happy robust ladies in their underwear and the "Pro.Age campaign with the older, wise women posing nude. But consider the context. Regular women. In a highly irregular setting of vulnerability and nakedness that most regular women wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Do we really need to strip women down naked to see beauty? The media has spent decades peeling the clothes off beautiful women to sell stuff. Now regular women who were happy to 'hide' behind their clothes are supposed to feel great about standing around in their underwear too. I'd like to see a men's deoderant campaign with a bunch of hairy house husbands and see how beautiful everyone thinks it is.

In real life I don't think anyone else REALLY cares that much what anyone else looks like. Celebrities are paid based on their appearance and we like to look at them, but the rest of us are just schmucking along trying not to smell or get too fat and uncool. We're getting paid and valued and judged on our contributions to the world most of the time. Basic grooming and attire go a long way.

Please put some clothes on the Dove ladies.

Busy little bee.

I've discovered Claritin and now I'm Claritin clear. Just like the commercials. I'm ready to throw the windows open and take a deep breath of pollen, ride a shedding horse down the beach and laugh at a secret joke in a smokey bar amongst my chic perfumed and hairsprayed friends. Bring it on.

I'm stuffed up oh, all the time. On a good day I can breathe out of one nostril. Mostly. If I had the discipline to stay off everything on my food sensitivity list it would probably be alot better but I can't seem to make it 3 hours without sugar or wheat so I live with the constant whistle in my nose and only being able to breathe through one nostril. Until now.

One of these Claritin puppies and I can actually breathe for the WHOLE day. Out of BOTH nostrils. At the SAME time. Maybe this is not a big deal to anyone else but for me this is HUGE. ShaZAM.

With my newfound oxygen, which appeared to carry over through the night because I woke up rested after breathing all night, I was a total machine this weekend. Its incredible how much energy not breathing sucks out of you.

In other news. Cody is here and he's now slightly taller than me and his voice is practically unrecognizable now. Its lower and pretty consistent, but tonight we had a dazzling display of cracking.

He also eats about his body weight in sandwiches every 2 hours. I've been listening to all these new parents complaining about "cluster feeding" and they seem to think its over after you stop breastfeeding. I have news for you. At least breastmilk is free. Wait until they're packing away organic deli meat and artisan bread at that rate.

One more week.

I need my vacation badly. You know when you leave the mall and you kind of have to pee, then you're in the car and just from thinking about it you have to go 10X more, but you're confident that you can hold it, until you're actually really close to home and you know that you'll be there in a couple minutes. At that point you're ready to burst and your eyeballs are swimming and think you might not make it and even though you're not religious you pray to Jesus and who ever else might listen that you do make it and by the time you turn the truck off and run into the house, dumping your coat on the kitchen floor and make a run for it - and it seems like if you were 2 more seconds you wouldn't have made it...BUT WAIT! NO! you realize there's only one square of toilet paper left and you have to get back up and waddle into the hall and get another roll and make it back without tripping and FINALLY, ahhhhhhh.

Its kind of like that.

Now that I know the trip is imminent, and I only have 1 week to go I feel like I'm barely going to make it. I can barely drag my butt out of bed and I have to flog myself to get anything done.

My God there's TWO of them...

Chris, you hide the credit cards from them, I'll get the other one a tiara before she gets jealous.

Olsen twins, watch out.

<-----New Miss USA
Mrs and Mr Cathy------>

IDIOT.

I did the stupidest thing today. I locked my keys in the truck. With it running.

Who DOES that? I can see maybe if I turned off the truck and got distracted and forgot to take the keys out, but to actually leave it running and get out, lock the door and slam it shut - that really lacks brain cells. And guess what else..I have spare keys that are on Andrew's key ring and he is in Halifax for the next couple of days.

However, I'm growing. Believe it or not this is a step up from my previous self. Because my hubby nags me about never plugging my phone in to charge it or having enough gas in my car, I actually had gas in the truck and one bar of juice on my phone (AND I actually had it with me for a change) so I could call him and whine while I waited for CAA.

Here's where it splits into a dilemma. Yes, I had put gas in the car and charged my phone and had it with me and I brought my full wallet with the CAA card instead of just carrying my license and bank card and I had an umbrella with me, and I am now in the habit of locking my doors all of the time, blah blah blah. HOWEVER. If I had just as per usual just left the door or the hatch unlocked I could have just crawled in through the back like normal person instead having to call CAA and standing in the rain for an hour waiting for them watching my gas burn out at $1 a litre. My way seems like way less hassle.

My old systems work, in a very rudimentry, low tech way that allowed me to not have to rely on too many people or much technology. Its not until other people start sticking their noses in and messing around with it to make it better that I seem to run into problems. It makes me nervous that there are 100 wires plugged into the back of my TV and 3 boxes and if one of them goes wrong I will miss my show.

I've taken heat from people for not being a planner and winging it and marching to a different drum, but I've been in and out of alot of scrapes and it seems like even when you do plan, when the really bad stuff hits you its always with a twist that renders it into something you never could have planned for in a million years.

OMG WE"RE GOING TO DOMINICAN REPUBLIC!!!!

I'm so excited I could pee. my. pants... We just booked a trip to Dominican Republic - Punta Cana, Bavaro Beach. The resort is called the Catalonia Bavaro Beach Resort, its 4.5 stars all inclusive so hopefully it will be good.

<-These will be my tanned toes in just 3 weeks.

I've been to Florida a few times, but not as an adult (with an open bar). I don't really consider the US to be 'another country', so this will be my first trip off the continent. Very Very Very Exciting. Super exciting. Like, didn't get any work done today exciting.....

I have a new mission...

I've never been much of a collector. I'm a chucker outer. Part of it comes with moving around alot. I've always wanted to find something I was interested in collecting and dragging around with me though, not to mention provide some direction for gift givers because apparently I'm 'impossible to buy for'.

And now I've found it..... The Modern Library's 100 Best Novels.... http://www.bookspot.com/listmodern100.htm (That's James Joyce in the photo)

My mission for however long it takes me is to get and read every book on the list and develop a respectable library. In hardcover, before Oprah makes them a pick and they have a big stupid yellow Oprah star on them. I've read about 20 of them, and I own about 5 of them. This is a big challenge since I already read on average 2-3 books a month. This will take YEARS. I'm so excited to have a 'thing'.

I'd like to thank 'The Academy" (Sydney Academy) for selecting about 5 of these so I can cross them off the list ASAP, and my parents for never denying me a book.

I think some of you should join me on this mission.

Starting to see the light...

We went for a mortgage approval yesterday. What a sobering experience that is.

1. We realized how much scary rope they're willing to give us to hang ourselves with and how broke and bored we'd be for a very long time if we spent it all.

2. We realized how little rope it is compared to how expensive what we thought we wanted.

3. We wonder how on earth everyone else is managing without a trust fund and alot of anti-anxiety medication.

We take alot of heat for not owning a house. We aren't cheap, we've been focused really heavily on getting out of debt and saving for a kickass future. We've kept our nose to the grindstone when it would have been way more fun to go nuts and spend like drunken sailors. But now we're seeing the light and the excitement is building.

Dig if you will the picture, a modest little bungalow in the city. PLUS a kickass cottage on a lake in Quebec - like this actual cottage on an actual lake in Quebec that's actually 40 minutes from our house, where we can go on the weekends and invite friends and family to enjoy with us. Doesn't it look nice? Makes you want to come hang out with us White Ramshead Place, yeah? I want both the house and cottage to be comfortable and inviting. I want kids to raise kids who get to play with frogs and lightening bugs and whine about being bored on the weekends instead of just being driven to and from organized activities. Oh, and a dog and Prius Touring too, and more trips to visit family and friends, and Andrew would like a canoe, doorways he doesn't hit his head on, and a trailer to pull behind his truck. Please and thank you. Can you my darling, can you picture this?

How can you just leave me standing, alone, in a bunga-low, so cold....I want to be able to cut back and work a 4 day work week by the time I'm 45 or 50 so I can enjoy all of this stuff. When I 'retire', I want to open a bed and breakfast and get paid to dazzle guests with my home baking, good decorating and 500 thread count sheets and and make a sign for the kitchen that says 'He's 6'9' so Andrew doesn't have new people asking him the same damn question every day. Maybe I'm just too demanding...

Dream if you can a front yard....

Phase I of the plan is to find the modest sturdy bungalow that I can work my magic on, with a decent backyard, a garage for Andrew's car and a basement he can stand up in.

Oh, and one little tiny thing - I have to convince Andrew that's its a good idea and get him to pay for half. A flash of the big green kitty cat eyes and a spreadsheet might do it.

Stay tuned. I can find anything, anywhere, anytime - on sale. Just watch me go.

Why don't we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like - when ya loves, bye'.

Weight loss update.

Oh, its like watching paint dry or grass grow. I've lost 8lbs in 6 weeks. Nothing to brag about but nothing to sneeze at either. I've been getting lazy about tracking on ww online and the amount of easter candy floating around is just brutal.

I've upped my activity to include going to the gym and I have a little support network of people at work who come and drag me there if I'm feeling lazy - my little size 0 boss who is small but very persuasive and probably motivated to reduce my sick days due to back problems, my friend Adrienne who just likes the company and now another work friend who is a runner and has benevolently invited me along with her even though I am way sllllloooooowwwww.

I'm up to 3km on my own, 2x a week. The guy who works at the gym has stopped hovering around waiting for me to have a heart attack, so I must look like I'm stuggling less. Here's my 10 week training plan. The 2/2/2 stuff means 2 kms, 3 times that week.

Week 1 : 2/ 2/ 2
Week 2: 2/ 2/ 4
Week 3: 2/ 2/ 5
Week 4: 4/ 4/ 7 (this week is gonna suck!)
Week 5: 5/ 5/ 8
Week 6: 2/ 2/ 6
Week 7: 5/ 5/ 10
Week 8: 5/ 5/ 10
Week 9: 2/ 2/ 5
Race week: 2 /2/ 2/ 10!

The Twins.

These are the fantabulous boots I got in Toronto last weekend. They are so hot that the guy at the shoe place (I had them stretched because I'm too delicate to break them in myself) was excited about them. Little chinese guy. He said:

Oh, Hewwo! Nice to see you. All day I see bwack shoe, bwack shoe, bwack shoe. Get sick of bwack shoe. Werry happy to see beautiful boots. Werry Nice. Wovely embroider. Good weafver too, no clappy vinyl. Try on, wet's see.

For the record, for anyone with big wide flippers like me, shoe stretching is the way to go. I brought two pair in, both were uncomfortably tight and now they are both like slippers. $6 dollar.

Bridal trailblazer...

Exhibit 1: This month's "Today's Bride" - with a lovely strapless gown and taupe silk sash.

<-Exhibit 2: Last year's wedding photo of me wearing my own design - white dress / raw silk taupe sash. Ha ha. I'm so ahead of the game it kills me. Clearly, the TB. people saw my photos and scrambled to copy me faster than Nicole Kidman at the Oscars.

I should be getting a cheque or something for that.

I have to admit that I like the way she's accessorized. (but she looks crabby)

What goes around comes around...

I'm going to a wedding shower this weekend. Last week I missed a baby shower but I sent a nice gift.

Now that I've had a few major events / experiences under my belt I'm finding myself exponentially more empathetic, sympathetic, enthusiastic etc about other people's crap too.

For a long time I didn't feel like I could relate to alot of what people were saying or doing. On the outside with my nose pressed up against the glass. I didn't know what it was like to plan a wedding, or have a sick parent or sick kid or sick dog or close a deal on a house or comprimise with a partner. Now I can see that alot coming down the pipe for us, and now I NEED that information, and I want to talk about it - incessantly. I feel like a schmuck for not being more excited for other people when this was going on for them. Please forgive me, some of it was thinly veiled jealousy, some of it was plain old lack of experience and maturity.

I've learned a lesson in the last couple of years - you never know who is going to have useful information for you later on, so you better be nice to everyone. Maybe its retro-actively appreciating the friend who stayed home with her kids and turned out well behaved, beautiful children. Or not waiting until you need your passport signed to acknowledging the sacrifice made by the one who missed the party nights out because they were working on an MBA or CA or EMT or P.Eng, or saving up for something big. Savoring all the little parts of someone's invitation. Making a big deal out of someone's jewellry, or skill or recommendation. Sending a little card or remembering a birthday. Geography means nothing.

Everyone has a purpose, sometimes its not always obvious who be the person by your side in a special moment. Likewise, you never know who you will influence with your behaviour. Someone might meet you and want to be just like you, or nothing like you. Your reaction to them could shape a little part of how they feel about themselves, good or bad.

TMOTS = Be nice to each other.