Sunday at Oldfeild Orchard

We spent Sunday at Oldfield Orchard (which is a not a hobby farm, but a full-blown money making establishment. It was a ton of fun.Quinn looking through the guillotine but laughing instead and pointing at me taking the photo.
The photo of us on the hay ride. Hayley was not with us this day, instead she was at her own Halloween party with the Sunday School.
Mr. and Mrs. John Deere. Driving the tractor. Well, actually just pretending, but don't tell Quinners that.

Quinn on the minature pony ride. All the proceeds went to Cops for Cancer, and by the time we were done, they drained all change from our wallets. She loved this. Apparently she did not find it too "dangerous" as she quoted riding horses at my Aunty Bonnie and Uncle Brian's farm this summer in Kamloops.

More photos to come on All Hallows Eve. Even one of me in my costume!

Just try not to relate to this!

OMG! so true it is scary!

The mom song.

Bring your sister to preschool day

Hayley and Quinn making a teddy bear mask.

Teacher Hayley helping out. Doesn't she look so big??

What else can I glue?

Oh, I know, I will glue the stick so when mommy picks it up her hand will stick to it!

Well, it is my first official Friday off of daycare, and it was a pro-d day. Quinn thought it was a blast that Hayley could come to "school" with her. She was so proud, telling everyone that her "seester" was here! We had a great day, after school we drove downtown and went to a vintage toy store, then looked at new high top runners and pillaged Value Village. Came home $4 less rich as there were no bargains to be found. Had a great time anyhow.

Hayley and I are watching all the Star Wars movies together. I was really never into them when I was a kid, but seeing them through her eyes is brilliant. They are true classic movies. They have left such an impression on her that she is even dressing up as Princess Leah for ol' Trick or Treat day. I made the costume...wait...don't applaud. The skirt is a pillow case with the bottom cut off and elastic for the waist. The top is a 99 cent deal from the Sally Ann that is a huge caftan beach shirt that we altered and her hair is a wig from San Fransisco's that we are in the midst of winding around ear muffs for the ear-bun look that made her famous. HA! Pictures will come in due time.

Quinn wants to be a princess. Just straight out of the dress up box. Go for it I say. She will probably accent the outfit with her rubber boots anyhow. My favorite part is the look of utter joy when they get candy in their bag, and how to hide it from Roger.

Happy Friday!

Stupid things I have seen

This week alone, I have seen:

**pouring rain, mom pushing stroller in $200 GAP jacket, UGG boots (another $200) and 7 of Mankind (I believe) jeans on. Kid was barefoot. Come on.

**co-op kids having a heydey in a Zeller's shopping cart. Full on *Jack*ass* moves - down hills, unleashed, yelling as if it was fun. Yet stupid people survive these ordeals and carry on to breed.

**van with ducktape and saran wrap on the passenger door window. Who am I kidding, probably was no-name brand cling wrap.

**socks and flip flops. Is that not a wee bit rubbing between your big toe and second toe? hello west coast gone wrong.

**my wallet stolen out of my front seat - then credit cards used. For what you ask? On line poker, QVC and a bag of chips/soft drink combo at the Oceanic market. Go big or go home I always say.

**dog wearing a rain hat. He had his head down. Probably knew how dumb he looked.

**and the stupid thing I have seen was....

Roger and two of our neighbours trying to get an already assembled 6X8 shed into our backyard, lifting it over their heads, over the fence, negotiating my flower garden....but I guess I was the stupid one.

I asked them to do it.

**

Be thankful

I have been thinking about what it means to be truly thankful. Thinking for me equates blogging. So as you can see, my faithful readers, I have not been doing a whole lot of thinking as of late.

I have come to the realization that being truly thankful means not wanting to change anything. I know that there are many things in my life that I am thankful for, as I could not function as me if I did not have them as a part. Then there are the others.......

I am thankful for my house, although I wish that we had ownership, a low mortgage and a load of property that my girls could run on. Instead I possess the biggest backyard in the co-op and the cul-de-sac on which they can ride their bikes.

I am thankful for my health, although I wish that I did not have the gene pool to pass my autoimmune disorder to my children, or I would have more.

I am thankful for a partner to spend my days with. I do wish, however, that he was more in tune to my feelings, brought me flowers everyday and showered me with love and undying attention. I guess I am very thankful that HE showers.

I am thankful for my mom and dad. I wish and pray that one day we will live closer together so that we can spend more time together. That or ruby red slippers that we can put on and tap together and presto....hugs from my mom.

I am thankful that we have food, water and shelter. Why does it have to come at a price of working lots, being frugal, and living in the co-op?

I am thankful for great friends. I wish that we had more time in our busy lives to have coffee together, look up new and exciting recipes, and exchange parenting tips.



Something that I am very thankful for, something that I would not change, who I am pleased with is me.

I like me. I think I have a wicked sense of humor, am a great friend, and am solid in my thoughts and feelings. I am happy with my life, in most aspects, and content with my choices. I love my two girls, get giddy thinking that I produced such unique lives. They are crazy, busy, thoughtful, charming, and although sometimes I feel that I am raising girls with the manners of trained monkeys...........I love them.

So this thanksgiving I challenge you to think of what you are truly thankful for. I bet it is more than you think.

Something, however, I am not thankful for is that now I must sign off and don my runners. It is the time for me to get out the door and run the 8K portion of the Garden City Marathon. In the rain. With 10,000 others. To be rewarded with muffins (hahaha,,insult to injury to a Celiac).

Happy thanksgiving my friends.

Pre-pre-school today

outside of Commonwealth Pool

having snacks

but I really like the flag part of kindergym

how is that for a smiley face??

look at the windblown hair! I am jealous!

Partly to do with mother-hood guilt, partly to do with wanting to see how the "other-half does it" (read - people with real jobs outside the home), and partly to do something with only Quinn; we enrolled in Stepping Up to Preschool. On paper we are to leave our children in the great hands of trained professionals for 45 minutes, all the while sipping on fresh brewed coffee and aimlessly catching up on current events. In reality we are standing at the back of the classroom trying to blend in with the other parents who's children will not let them open to doors to the outside world.

Quinn did amazingly well for a pint sized wonder who has done basically nothing without me right beside her. I even amazed myself by leaving for an entire 10 minutes before the teacher tracked me down in the cafe with a sobbing Quinners in her arms. She loves her mommy, what can I say? She settled quick for snack time, painted an Picaso'esq painting of a pink storm, and sung the "itsy-bitzy spider" song at the top of her lungs. As you can see from the photos, she did enjoy kindergym and would not have given a rat's arse if I was there or not.

She is the youngest there, by three months. And everyone cried. Even some mommies. Those that actually let the parents/grandparents/caregivers leave. I am proud of her. She sang her lungs out.

There is always the radio to listen to for the current events of the world anyhow, and it may be an acquired taste, but I like my coffee nuked at least once.

Hey, have you met me?

Have we met?

Allow me to introduce myself. I am hormonally induced crazy woman. Let me write out the math equation that brought me here:

September + new routine + skating fees + new skates + new daycare kiddies + Roger + a two year old + not enough sleep + bank balance dropping faster than a speeding bullet + PMS + being the only driver =

Hormonally induced crazy woman.

My talents include (in no particular order): crying, yelling, head spinning, not listening, wearing elastic waist pants, feeling bloated, carrying mother-guilt, drinking too much coffee, searching the web for a new island to live on, and driving my family nuts.

Wanna come over?

Can you say allergies?????

Zaiden.

We had friends for dinner last night, really good friends of Roger's that live in Victoria that we don't get to see near often enough. They have a beautiful baby boy, Zaiden, and Quinn and Hayley loved having a little one to cuddle and play hide-and-seek with.

As for dinner, that was another story. We had to put our heads together and come up with a meal that was.....gluten-free, lactose-free, vegetarian, tasty and edible. Not an easy task. Shannon and I split the duty and came up with a wild and crazy concoction that even the girls attempted and ate some of. We did, however, make some steak kabobs for Roger the meat-eating carnivore that he is. Heaven forbid I hide some tofu or soy in his diet. We had a great meal, great conversation, and would do it again in an instant.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

Can you just see how happy she is to start Grade 2? You should take a glimpse of me.......

Flashback without added drug use

Last night we were transported back in time. Who knew that Betty (the van) was also doing side-duty as a time machine? Yes, we teleported right into the land of big, bad hair; too-tight-stirrup-pants-on-too-fat-arses; misbehaved children and roll-back prices. They have got to place that huge smily face everywhere or there will be mass riots and fights over the latest "George" brand clothing. (I often wondered if that is what Boy George is doing now that he is unemployed in the music world? one has to wonder.....)

For those of you that do not know, I detest Walmart and all that it is. Not that I have anything against big box stores, I shop at Cosco. Not that I have any problem with having to match your clothing to a big blue vest everyday...to each their own. Not that I even have issues with their products and prices. It is simply this - I spent too much there.

I am cheap. Very cheap. I do not buy retail, I am known by name and shoe size at most neighbourhood thrift stores. I do not like anyone taking my money. God knows, I don't have much of it - so leave it in my overdrawn bank account where it belongs. Each and every time that I enter into the huge doors of Walmart stupid spray is vaporized on me leaving me a blubbering idiot. I wander aimlessly throughout the isles, throwing products in willy-nilly whether we need them or not. Price mark down on gerrycurl...I am in. Hmmm, diaper rash cream for the almost-potty-trained girly....chuck 'er in. Looky here, they got some flip-flops for $3! (see previous post...not needed any more of those suckers!)

We go in because for three days now we have been reaping in the missed-the-potty puddles on the floor. Quinners so wants to be a big girl so she is forgoing diapers. And the potty. And choosing to pee wherever, whenever and doing whatever. I am finding panties everywhere, and none of them mine. So with our other choice being a safety pin and a tee towel (safety pin already being used) we go get diapers.

God the hair we saw. Big, nasty, bangs straight up hair. Right out of my 1989 grad photos. Whoa. And who in their right mind takes their kids out in a diaper only? There was some strange people there, I kid you not.

So in the end, I get to the cashier, armed with diapers, new sippy cups and ketchup (great combo) and we high-tail it out of there. Getting in the van Roger and I have a bit of a chuckle on the sights and sounds of Langford Walmart, all the while realizing that is how we just spent our Friday night.

Pathetic.

Better Support

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.

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?

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.

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!

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.

Us

Here we are, in the glorious sunshine, enjoying a birthday party at the park. Now you see us!

Thriller (or the thing that made me laugh today)

Thriller

Summer camp

Well, the calender says summer, but ol' Mother Nature seems to be telling a different story. Fall. The nights are cool, the days are bleak, and the swimming pool has a disgusting scum floating on the top. I think that I like the extreme heat better. I am tempting fate and just wearing shorts today for the hell of it. That and a sweater.

So HP decides that she has the horse bug. She rode horses at my Aunt and Uncles in Kamloops and since then has been a bit horse-crazy. So I thought I may sign her up for horse camp. Hopefully that was a fleeting thought, one that I did not intend on acting on, as I recieved the email back from the stables, and almost crapped my pants. I thought skating was expensive....well one week of horse camp costs over $500!!!!! A bit rich for my blood. A bit more than rich. I can see it now, HP rolling up to camp in the van, with daycare kiddies spilling out the sides, with her bike helmet (like I could afford a riding hat with that expense), jeans and my "fancy boots" on. That would be all we had in the house. Then coming home from a day of mucking the stables and rubbing elbows with the rich kids for a yummy dinner of beans. Maybe weiners and beans if Roger happened to do some work on someone's computer for some extra money that week.

Needless to say, no horse camp for HP. I think the $60/week camp at the local rec center will suffice. Stringing beads, playing kick the can, lunch at the park to perfect the monkey bars, and some swimming in a good ol' public pool. What could be wrong with that?

Plus then we actually get to eat that week.

Time for me

Well, I have be coerced. Pleaded with. Talked to repeatedly. Nagged.

I gave in. Just to stop the incessant noise. Just joking Mel. She only had to ask me once. That is how easy of a girl I am. Roll with the punches, peer-pressure, in-depth fear of saying no and disappointing. Yep, that is me.

What did I say yes to you are probably wondering???? To the half marathon in October. To commit to running on a program, with someone three times a week. I have to admit - scared shitless right now.

You see, I used to run. Used to being the oprative word. When HP was one, I turned 30. That is the year that I ran a lot. Training for the Garden City 10K and even managed to do it in under an hour. I even enjoyed the feeling of completing my first road race, losing some of my baby fat in the process.

So I began to run again on Monday. And here it is, Friday morning and already I am embarking on a whole different world again. The running world. I run with my friend Mel, who encourages me, makes me laugh, and never, and I mean never, makes me feel like I cannot do it. Even when it is freaking hot out, I am red and blotchy in the face, panting like a sick dog.

All this, and we have not even left the house yet.

Wish me luck girls, in my training for this.

Meanwhile I will be getting my kicks out of the post run boozy drink in my back yard. It is still the best part of the run as far as I am concerned.

Photos from the trip

Quinn in awe of the horses. We spent the last night in Kamloops and Quinn would not horseback ride, claiming that was "wery wery dangerous". Hilarious. She did, however, love watching Hayley and Emily ride off into the sunset.

My mom, Hayley and Quinn in the pool while we were in Vernon. Hayley was in the water for about 4 hours. Can you say prune fingers?
Hayley on the horse. We had barely pulled into the driveway of my aunt and uncles and she was already asking to ride.
Had to add this one in. me. little ol'me. Photoshopped in all it's glory. Silver Star valley in the background. Gotta love a camera that takes good photos!
Me and my two favorite people in the whole world.
Me and my cousin Carolynn. She and I are the closest in age, and we had such a great time catching up with one another. We have so much in common; running, kids, scrapbooks, candles, love of good food and wine......I wish we lived closer to one another.

The girls and I had such a great time. Listening to Harry Potter in the car was a god-send. Both girls were awesome, laughing with each other, potty training Quinn, riding the ferry, hiking on SilverStar, swimming in the hottub, visiting cousins, witnessing the BEST wedding of my cousin Pam and her new hubby Steve, tubing on the lake, riding horses, wow. We had fun. So much fun in fact that Hayley opted to go to Quesnel to spend another week with nana and papa.

Daycare started up again on Wednesday - reality hits you smack between the eyes. I just have to close my eyes and think of my holiday and we are all right with the world again.