I have come to the conclusion that I need some better support.
Not in parenting, not in my friendship circle, not in my running regime......
in my boobs.
I vowed that I would never be that mom. You know the one. The one that comes to playgroup/library/playground/Thrifty Foods with her brood in designer garb, all decked out, looking like they are making a quick stop on the way to a movie premier or something equally glamorous. Mom, however, is looking a little less than made up. A bit harried, with a comb not touching the hair that is not visible in the bathroom mirror, clothes a bit wrinkled, flip-flops being the shoe of choice......and worse of all fashion faux-pas.....her bra held up with a safety pin.
I am this close to being that mom. Just a safety pin away.
How is it that mom rationalle prevents us from spending money on ourselves? On essentials? I have no issues spending money on really little cute jeans for my 2-year old. Nor do I have any issues with spending $40 on a new backpack to grace the shoulders of my 7 year old on her return to school. I do, however, balk at the highway robbery of prices that they can get away with charging for a bra. I have two. One is the "turtlenecks" of bras. You know the kind. The Huge, mother-of-all bras, no chance of escape here, really big and bulky. It is the one that I wear on a regular basis. (not by choice, keep reading). The other is a demi-cup. The one that presumes to be sexy, with coverage of only half your boob. Mine was not bought as a demi-cup. I grew. It evolved into a new entity. One on which does not cover, nor does it support, it just...well...I am not exactly sure what it's purpose is. I only wear this one when I am waiting for the turtleneck one to dry.
This is not rocket science girlfriend. (maybe it is, have you seen the pointy-arrow boobies of the 1950's? complete with darts and take off devices...maybe it is rocket science) It is a piece of material that will defy the laws of gravity and put my "girls" to their pre-baby height of yesteryear. Not too big of a task. I mean, if you can put a man on the moon, one would like to believe that you can return the boobs to their place of honor.
Maybe too much to ask.
So, I am prepared this time. No kids to bring to the bra-shop for me. It is all too fresh in my mind what happened last time I brought my kids. The older one thought that it was an all-you-can-eat buffet from my purse of treats, and my younger one saw the boobs unleashed and thought that it was an all-you-can-eat-buffet from me. Not a good time in the change room for me. I will go get measured, and convince myself that spending money on me is a good thing.
Because do you know what I don't want for Christmas this year? National Geographic boobies of the saggy-tribe of who knows where in Africa. Nope, crossed that one off my wish list.
I'll take some new panties to go with my new bras. Lord knows, I won't be able to afford both.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
UFC
Yep, me who detests violence, hosted a UFC fight night here. Actually Roger did the inviting and I did the party planning. I LOVE parties, any excuse to have one is alright with me!
So with money in tow, off to the grocery store I go. Dips, chips, mushroom caps, pizza sauce, cream cheese....oh the list was making my mouth water. Now the prep....
Cranking the ACDC Roger and I went to work. Slicing, dicing, laughing, and working along side in the kitchen. Probably one of my favorite afternoons yesterday. Cooking with the boy was great. no fighting, no bossiness (on my part), no dictating (on his part). Loverly.
Table laden with food (stuffed mushroom caps, potato skins, artichoke dip, pizza 7 layer dip, cheese, crackers, chicken wings, garlic sausage, pickles.....) our friends started to arrive. Of everyone that came there were only four women; two of which wanted to watch the fight and two who gave a rat's arse about it. I was in the rat's arse group. So Tina and I went to the Four Mile Pub and toasted a girls night out, sans children, men and blood and guts (aka UFC fight) and had a great laugh.
Came home to a sleeping baby, empty plates of food on the table and about 7 packs of empty beer bottles...with a smile on my face and a wink to Roger I knew that our "fight night" hosting was a success. Both of us got what we wanted. For me it was spending time with him in the kitchen before, and for him it was finally being able to be social and have some fun with his buds.
The best part of the night was that all our friends were raised right. They all pitched in and cleaned up the house before going home. At 2am. 2am. Who in their right mind stays up until 2am? With kids? Not me, I graced the bedsheets at 12:30. That was late enough for me.
Hmmm, what party can I plan next?
So with money in tow, off to the grocery store I go. Dips, chips, mushroom caps, pizza sauce, cream cheese....oh the list was making my mouth water. Now the prep....
Cranking the ACDC Roger and I went to work. Slicing, dicing, laughing, and working along side in the kitchen. Probably one of my favorite afternoons yesterday. Cooking with the boy was great. no fighting, no bossiness (on my part), no dictating (on his part). Loverly.
Table laden with food (stuffed mushroom caps, potato skins, artichoke dip, pizza 7 layer dip, cheese, crackers, chicken wings, garlic sausage, pickles.....) our friends started to arrive. Of everyone that came there were only four women; two of which wanted to watch the fight and two who gave a rat's arse about it. I was in the rat's arse group. So Tina and I went to the Four Mile Pub and toasted a girls night out, sans children, men and blood and guts (aka UFC fight) and had a great laugh.
Came home to a sleeping baby, empty plates of food on the table and about 7 packs of empty beer bottles...with a smile on my face and a wink to Roger I knew that our "fight night" hosting was a success. Both of us got what we wanted. For me it was spending time with him in the kitchen before, and for him it was finally being able to be social and have some fun with his buds.
The best part of the night was that all our friends were raised right. They all pitched in and cleaned up the house before going home. At 2am. 2am. Who in their right mind stays up until 2am? With kids? Not me, I graced the bedsheets at 12:30. That was late enough for me.
Hmmm, what party can I plan next?
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Discovery
The morning that we left for Parksville one of the bulbs in the bathroom burned out. Not so bad, as we had two others in good working order.
Until we arrived home and HP turned on the light and only one worked. She peed in a bathroom with about as much light as a nightclub washroom, all dim and hazy and I made a mental note to go to Canadian Tire (about a 3.5 second dash from our door) and purchase some new halogen bulbs.
Then I got used to the dim surroundings. Dust bunnies did not seem so scary in this light. Shaving your legs in the shower was done by feel alone (really, who feels up ankles anyhow??), and when your put your makeup on in the morning you look good enough to go dancing....I thought this light was pretty darn flattering. Even before I had a glass of wine and had to squint about 2 inches from the mirror to see my reflection.
Tuned on the light a few days ago and saw the light flicker. Knew that I did not want to wipe my potty training daughter's bumm in the dark, nor did I have any desire to explain to guests why they had to pee in the dark, we journeyed to Canadian Tire. OMFG! Try $20 for four bulbs. I just about had to change my panties. That is highway robbery. I paid the lady, trudged home and put the damn bulbs in.
My discovery? All the while of being in the hazy darkness, a dark hair was growing out of my chin. A coarse, ugly, makes-me-feel-ancient hair. One that I could see plain as day when three working bulbs were screwed into my fixture. For the second time in one day I just about sported a new pair of panties. What does a girl to do? Tweeze the thing out...only to make it grow back coarser and uglier? Leave it alone and hope that it does not poke out eyes during cuddles? Encourage two of it's buddies to grow beside the first only to be able to braid them and pass it off as a new fashion accessory?
Nope. Just unscrew two bulbs and forget you even saw the thing.
Until we arrived home and HP turned on the light and only one worked. She peed in a bathroom with about as much light as a nightclub washroom, all dim and hazy and I made a mental note to go to Canadian Tire (about a 3.5 second dash from our door) and purchase some new halogen bulbs.
Then I got used to the dim surroundings. Dust bunnies did not seem so scary in this light. Shaving your legs in the shower was done by feel alone (really, who feels up ankles anyhow??), and when your put your makeup on in the morning you look good enough to go dancing....I thought this light was pretty darn flattering. Even before I had a glass of wine and had to squint about 2 inches from the mirror to see my reflection.
Tuned on the light a few days ago and saw the light flicker. Knew that I did not want to wipe my potty training daughter's bumm in the dark, nor did I have any desire to explain to guests why they had to pee in the dark, we journeyed to Canadian Tire. OMFG! Try $20 for four bulbs. I just about had to change my panties. That is highway robbery. I paid the lady, trudged home and put the damn bulbs in.
My discovery? All the while of being in the hazy darkness, a dark hair was growing out of my chin. A coarse, ugly, makes-me-feel-ancient hair. One that I could see plain as day when three working bulbs were screwed into my fixture. For the second time in one day I just about sported a new pair of panties. What does a girl to do? Tweeze the thing out...only to make it grow back coarser and uglier? Leave it alone and hope that it does not poke out eyes during cuddles? Encourage two of it's buddies to grow beside the first only to be able to braid them and pass it off as a new fashion accessory?
Nope. Just unscrew two bulbs and forget you even saw the thing.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Parksville Vacation
As a super neglectful blogger, I will now catch up all my faithful readers on our family vacation to Parksville. We finally got a chance to get away as a family and "we were going to have fun if it killed us!" We actually succeeded in our goal, a great time was had by all. We beachcombed, built sandcastles, bumper-boated, played mini-golf, shopped at thrift stores, drank wine, watched movies, danced with the girls, played at the park (a lot) and laughed.
Here are the photos to prove it!
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Motherhood
I always knew that motherhood would be more rewarding than anything else that I would accomplish. That it would outshadow any relationship. That it would pay nothing, have moments of doubt, and be wrought with sleepless nights of questioning of the right way.
No one told me it would be hilarious as well.
My daughters are funny. Rib tickling, belly holding, cheek hurting FUNNY. They both say the most hilarious things. Here are some of them.
Quinn crawls into bed with me. Snuggles. I roll over and say good morning. Her reply is that my breath smells like cherries. "I don't like cherries, mom." Fine. Get out then.
Quinn climbs to the top of the slide. The old fashioned kind, metal and steep. The kind that I used to navigate in the 70's. I coax her up. She reaches the top and I thought for sure that she would not want to slide down. I was correct. She stood at the top of the narrow slide, and announced that....."I climbed up here to dance....watch me mom".
Hayley wants to come with me running. So she gets out her bike to ride along side. Her and I are crossing the bridge to run along the water and she asks me what birds eat. I reply, (to the best of my knowledge" that they eat worms, grass, wheat, bread and food from the garbage can. She then asks me if one "poops in my mouth would I have a celiac reaction, as what birds eat is not gluten-free". Like I would care about my intestines when I have bird crap in my teeth.....
Quinn is on her way upstairs and Roger announces that she has to have a bath tonight. Without missing a beat, she says, "I would rather have a bath on Sattaday"
She gets in the tub and comes down stairs to show me how clean she is. I give her a big hug and tell her that her hair smells wonderful - so clean. Again, without missing a beat, she says, "wanna smell my bumm, it is clean too?" Umm, thanks, I will pass...
Hayley thinks she has died and gone to heaven when we can have a treat at her favorite place. Importans. (Tim Hortons)
Quinn thinks that movies are called DVDV's.
They make me laugh. Which is a not such a bad thing.
No one told me it would be hilarious as well.
My daughters are funny. Rib tickling, belly holding, cheek hurting FUNNY. They both say the most hilarious things. Here are some of them.
Quinn crawls into bed with me. Snuggles. I roll over and say good morning. Her reply is that my breath smells like cherries. "I don't like cherries, mom." Fine. Get out then.
Quinn climbs to the top of the slide. The old fashioned kind, metal and steep. The kind that I used to navigate in the 70's. I coax her up. She reaches the top and I thought for sure that she would not want to slide down. I was correct. She stood at the top of the narrow slide, and announced that....."I climbed up here to dance....watch me mom".
Hayley wants to come with me running. So she gets out her bike to ride along side. Her and I are crossing the bridge to run along the water and she asks me what birds eat. I reply, (to the best of my knowledge" that they eat worms, grass, wheat, bread and food from the garbage can. She then asks me if one "poops in my mouth would I have a celiac reaction, as what birds eat is not gluten-free". Like I would care about my intestines when I have bird crap in my teeth.....
Quinn is on her way upstairs and Roger announces that she has to have a bath tonight. Without missing a beat, she says, "I would rather have a bath on Sattaday"
She gets in the tub and comes down stairs to show me how clean she is. I give her a big hug and tell her that her hair smells wonderful - so clean. Again, without missing a beat, she says, "wanna smell my bumm, it is clean too?" Umm, thanks, I will pass...
Hayley thinks she has died and gone to heaven when we can have a treat at her favorite place. Importans. (Tim Hortons)
Quinn thinks that movies are called DVDV's.
They make me laugh. Which is a not such a bad thing.
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