Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
And it plans to rain for our entire stay. So we are equipped with several rainsuits, and beer.
Our plan is to eat primarily fish to keep us properly nourished.
My plan is to wake Ben during night time pee breaks, as I dont do that kind of wilderness with my pants off while in solitude. If he argues, thats fine. I will simply shimmy up to him, pee, and move back to my own side of the bed. I do have this thing about bears...
Anyways, we are off. See you when we return.
Pray about the safe landing too, as I do have this issue with floatplanes....
Any mom of toddlers has accepted that you no longer get privacy no matter what the reason. If I need to use the ladies room, I don't get the luxury of a closed bathroom door. What goes on behind them is much scarier than my kids seeing me doing my business. But I sure miss being able to sit down on the toilet without a toddler trying to peek between my legs to see whats going on in there. They are so OBVIOUS about it. Duck right down and stare open mouthed like. Or showering without a cool breeze because they insist in opening the shower door so they can watch me wash. I am now expected to do a play by play.."mommy is washing her hair! Ooohhh, now I am rinsing rinsing rinsing it all out. Time for shaving! In the armpits..." you get the picture. when I get out, they tell me about my body. They show me my bum, my boobies, my legs, my belly, its button, I try to dry off real quick like so I can cover up, but now the girls want the responsibility of drying me off. So I have to stand there shivering while they dry me from thigh down. And Svea gets pretty insulted if you go over what she has already done, so I try to be discreet about that.
Anyways, my new show jacket arrived and is at my moms office. Ben ran to town to get the booze for our trip this weekend (and a few other unimportant in comparison items like milk and water). I cant wait to see my new jacket and sure hope the 5 lbs I have put on from my beverage of choice while at camp does not cause any lumpiness or stretching. Thank goodness for spanx.
All the kids are asleep. I better grab a shower now unless I want an audience.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
I have noodles in my nostrils.
I have noodles on my nose.
There are noodles on my cheeks and chin
and dripping down my clothes.
I've got more upon my forehead.
Some are sticking to my neck.
It's completely disconcerting.
I'm a noodle-covered wreck.
I can see them on my kneecaps,
and I know they're in my shoes.
(When I stand they're somewhat squishy
and I feel them start to ooze.)
There are several in my pockets.
There's a handful in my hair.
And I'm pretty sure that some are even
in my underwear.
So try not to do what I did
(I'm a total nincompoop),
and don't ever fall asleep
while eating chicken noodle soup.
How cute is this poem? I love it.
Hayden gets this certain look on his face when he is pooping. And if you don't catch that, you will notice his grunting (you can hear Ben make the exact same pooping noise if you are anywhere near the washroom while he is making one). I am sharing, because Hayden is making one right now. And guess what? The girls are napping and the wipes are in Olivia's room.
Speaking of stinkies, I am a bad mom. I hold my nose and go "Eeeewwwwy, STINKY!" when I change the girls stinkies. Then I talk about how pretty soon, we are gonna start going caca in the potty. Now every time the girls notice me changing a stinky diaper, they very clearly state "Ewwwwwwy! StINkY!". Its hilarious and I laugh and it encourages them.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I rode my horse tonight. He is a guy. Like a guys guy guy. He looks for ways to get out of work, fusses if you fart on him, and rides real well as long as he thinks its his own idea. He pees all over the place, gets a bit shy about doing it while you are looking at him, expects you to provide him with hand served meals and beverages, and whines about getting new shoes. Any woman would be in her glory to get new shoes every 5 weeks. If he doesn't feel well, he fusses about that too. He fakes a cough occasionally too, mostly to sort of make a point. Like when Ben says he is sick, he coughs immediately after. Its like...punctuation.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
So, I was chatting with a friend on facebook the other day who has been on fly in fishing trips, and therefore, float planes and asked her how the landing feels. She didn't respond until later in the day. Being the freaky gal I am, I googled it.
Most plane crashes in float planes happen on the landing (or, lets say, attempted landing). They hit the water too hard, bounce, flip and sink. The doors on float planes, as it turns out, are notoriously difficult to open from the inside once sinking in water. So, if you are a survivor at this point, there is a great likely hood of expiring when you drown with the sinking plane.
Then Jen responded
"The small planes are a little sketchy but the view is one of a kind....you might shit ur pants on the landing.....depends on the pilot LOL"
So I was exhausted at bedtime last night. In fact, I don't think my head even brushed my pillow and I was already out. But I did wake with a start at 5:00 am when this comment suddenly ran through my head like a little lightening strike banner.
Why am I so paranoid?
Its the kids. I swear it. The late Dr. Holloway told me while listening to the twins heartbeats on the Doppler (which he said reminded him of ponies galloping, I always thought that was such a cute comment) that I "will never be the same again". He was referring to how my life would change because of those ponies. I mean kids. And he was right. He pissed me off, Dr. Holloway, but all the way until I had my Cholestasis, I loved him. And if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have my girls. So, thank you, Dr. Holloway, you changed my life and I am very thankful.
Hayden slept like a charm last night. He was held and cuddled all day and barely made a peep. The girls were champs today and I got out not once, but TWICE without them for a few hours.
I got most of my shopping done for our trip. Didn't take much. Some spices and potatoes. Soap and shampoo. Bug dope. Tranquilizers.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Svea is so proud to have her brother in her princess doll stroller. She wont figure out it wont move until a bit later (I had my foot on it, no way am I letting the speed demon with the nasty streak push my son around on ceramic tile in a princess stroller).
Hayden finds this to be particularly embarrassing. Notice the "are you serious?" expression on his face.
Svea is confused. Why wont this thing move? There has GOT to be a reason. I have some blurred shots of her frantically trying to shake the stroller loose from my toe grip. But I didn't share them just because I am feeling a bit obstinate.
Notice the girls have no shirts on. I recently made comment that my kids *NEVER* strip. I stand corrected. It started today. Hayden is the exception. He didn't undress himself, but he barfs with such great regularity that I am starting to wonder if maybe I should just leave him naked. Its easier to clean him up after all.
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult.
I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilitiesof an 8 year-old.
I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant.
I want to sail sticks across a fresh mudpuddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.
I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them.
I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer's day.I want to return to a time when life was simple; When all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care.All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.
I want to think the world is fair. That everyone is honest and good.I want to believe that anything is possible. I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.
I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.
I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.
So... here's my checkbook and my car-keys, my credit card bills and my 401K statements. I am officially resigning from adulthood.And if you want to discuss this further, you'll have to catch me first, cause.............."Tag! You're it."
Told you it was the Amazon Jungle here.
Today has been a cry day. The kids have cried almost all day. Sometimes all as one, or individually, or...dually. No matter how you put it, crying children make you feel one of two things. Heartbroken or irritated. Today, well, I felt more irritation. We are all tired from camp and the tears went hand in hand with temper. Svea shed a few real ones when she received a swat for belting her brother in the head during one of them. Short lived, as I heard her giggling with Olivia when she wasn't even done serving her crib time yet. When Svea gets hysterical, Olivia cries sympathy tears for her. And when both girls cry, they squeal, and it hurts Hayden's ears, so he cries too. And then sometimes, I cry too. And then Ben calls, and decides to pretend his machine broke down so he can stay a bit longer in the bush to "fix" it.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Ben cried over the tip of his fishing rod I broke trying to free my purse (he did fail to mention there was a fishing rod crammed under the back seat of my truck). We did some more conversing and planning for our trip coming up. We decided to bring a small amount of drinking water and some potatoes as well as our beer and sleeping bags.
Oh yes, and Hayden completely wrecked Andrews Birthday party when he cried for nearly 3 hours straight. Eventually I gave up and packed up my brood to allow the rest of the party to enjoy some silence and birthday cake. At this moment, he is alseep. Was it the tylenol or the ambien? Your guess.
(they dont give ambien quite so freely here in Canada)