Wednesday, July 30, 2008

random thoughts

Thinking back to when I was a kid....I realize, that although I didn't have a "perfect" (whatever that is supposed to mean) childhood, it was damn near what I would imagine perfect would mean. We had this beautiful yard living in Garson, and over the years when I pictured what raising my own children would be like, I imagined a big pretty yard, and pink little barbie style tents set up so my little girls would be able to camp out right in our own yard. Funny, a big part of me always knew I would have the little girls I would need to make this a reality. Though I never imagined it would be two little girls of the exact same age and conception date, I feel like its just nature getting me back for being the little scoundrel I most certainly was. Between my sister Liisa, and my cousin Mailis, we sure made double trouble. I can only imagine the treasures these two have in store for me.

Liisa and I hid hamsters from our parents for years before they caught on. On one occasion, we got a little too close to the wire when playing with one of our "secret" hamsters in the living room. On noticing the parents pulling in the driveway, we realized our forbidden pet had crawled into the central vac tube. Shaking that tube frantically did nothing as far as getting him out, so Liisa panicked and decided if we just stuck the tube in the wall for a moment to get the suction going, we could get him closer to the end and grab him before mom and Conrad walked in the door. It worked. Harry the hamster got so close to the end of that tube that he wound up being sucked right into the main canister in the basement. We both choked back our horror when the parents walked in, and proceeded to make like we were wonderful little vacumers. That night, I slept in Liisas bed with her in the basement with horrible images burned into our minds of how that poor hamster met his maker.

Mailis and I were a match made in heaven. If there was trouble, we could find it. I fancy I was the main instigator, but Mailis was very curious, very brave, and had wide blue innocent eyes and a halo of blond hair to hide behind as Maija yelled at us (well, mainly me) for whatever she thought she had caught us doing. She didn't know the half of it. Mailis had brains and I had balls and we knew way more than anyone gave us credit for. I hate that Mailis wasn't part of my wedding party. She should have been wearing a golden dress and I had become so caught up in my own life, that it never occurred to me to ask her. I need to make a trip to Winnipeg and catch up with this woman, we have stories to share, stories to tell, and obviously, many more to make.

Today, I took my brood to the mall with me and bought the girls some fairy costumes. Complete with wings and a wand. I plan to photograph them at camp, but I couldn't resist letting them wear their beautiful new wings right out of the store and through the mall. They made quite a picture, each wearing "butterfry wings" and holding hands as they walked through the mall in matching outfits. All I could hear as I walked through that mall was a series of "awwww!!" "oh look!" and "OMG!" from the other shoppers. The girls were a hit, and of course, I was so proud. They didn't touch a single thing, followed me clear from one side of the mall to the other, and held hands the entire time. Personally, I am excited to see what kind of relationship these girls will have, and to share what kind of trouble they will get into over the years. Liisa and I used to pretend we were twins and get away with it. Now I have a set of my own to enjoy :)

Hayden is turning into the cutest baby ever. He rode right up front in the grocery cart today for the first time. He was so proud. He giggled and chatted almost the entire ride. He smiled at anyone who looked his way and giggled hysterically if I gave him a little tickle. He makes me laugh, and I am so excited to watch him go from baby to toddler to little boy. I have no expectation of what he will be like...he is kind of a mystery to me. I haven't really done boys. But I sure am glad to have the chance to experience parenting one.

And those are my thoughts for today. I should head to bed. Gnitey everyone....

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Polly Lake Vintage Playground. Come on out. Its permanent.

I am not feeling particularly inspired to write tonight. So bear with me while I think of something to say...

Well, I suppose I could share our new Polly Lake Vintage Playground with you. We found this stuff from a fellow cottage owner who's grand babies had outgrown the desire to play on a playground and scooped it up before any neighbours even knew it was for sale. And the kids love it, and so does Ben.

It does needs some prettifying. We cant even decide what all of the animals are on the one piece....we have one that looks like an odd mixture between a cow and a pig, one that looks like a creepy eyeless ghost animal ( I think I may attempt to make it look like a horse...), an ugly dug, and an elephant. The entire unit spins around, and/or you can make it bounce. Its fun for the adults too. Trust me, we tried it and its a blast. Right next to riding the seadoo. Seriously. Either way, the girls scream "horsey" and run for it when they see it. If you ask them if they want down, they quickly shake their heads and say "Nooo". Olivia already has that "duuuuhhhh, as if we would want down" tone it her voice for accentuation. Makes you laugh, so we ask them often.

Hayden loves the family quad rides...either that or he thinks they are very boring. He lasts about 12 minutes in and then passes out. Once he is out, you can do almost anything you want to him, and he aint comin to.

I stayed at camp by myself from Sunday afternoon until Tuesday morning. I had to actually HANDWASH baby clothes. I am posting the pic as proof that I did it. How ladylike of me, dontcha think?

Friday, July 25, 2008

Ok, play my game with me please....

I can take criticism, and realize some memories of me, might not be the nicest. Sometimes the truth hurts. Hopefully one or two people have a fond memory of me.

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn’t matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It’s actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I’ll assume you’re playing the game and I’ll come to your blog and leave one about you. If you don’t want to play on your blog, or if you don’t have a blog, I’ll leave my memory of you in my comments.

So there you go. What do you remember about me (whether in real life or on-line since many people reading this live exclusively in my computer)?

Thursday, July 24, 2008

This one is for you, Liisa :)

This one is totally off topic compared to my usual ranting and raving.

Pet peeves.

I struggle to understand how some horse people can be so utterly...ridiculous.

Have you ever seen the "Black Beauty" or "Black Stallion" movies?

They use every imaginable prop known to mankind. Horses do not fall in love with their human owners. They perceive us as the equine equivalent to "alpha mare, or stallion". Simple as that. No matter how much you want to believe that your horse trusts you or loves you or wants to be your friend, its simply...ridiculous. We, as horse owners, put our horses in the position of needing us to feed them, provide shelter, and meet their every need. Horses, out in the wild, do not need shoeing, 2 feet of shavings, pretty sparkly pink halters, or shaved bridle paths. Nor do they feel thankful that we provide them with these things. Their brain, is the size of a walnut.

I am completely sick of ridiculous people who insist that horses have the human capacity to love, to see humour, and to speak as though they are humans. They have simple needs. Food, water, shelter from the weather, and direction.

Sometimes, we need them. Humans have diverse needs. We want to feel loved, needed, respected, and important. If you want to believe that your horse has those feelings for you, please, feel free. Its true on some levels. Your horse does not LOVE you. He needs you to meet his basic needs and he has learned that in order to not feel discomfort he needs to do a couple of things. He needs to not buck your stupid ass off even if you deserve it. He needs food, so he lets you catch him from the pasture to bring him into the barn and FEED him. He needs to not feel your spurs prodding him from one side, so he moves over. He dislikes the feeling of pressure altogether, so he figures out if he yields to the pressure, you will just leave him the hell alone. He also enjoys when you scratch his itchy spots, so he rewards you with his pricked ears, heart shaped lip, and willingness to stay tied to a silly little lead or chain he could break in one second flat if he felt threatened on any level.

Stop watching those ridiculous movies and realize that if he is whinnying for you, he is hungry, if he follows you, its because he feels he has no other choice, and if he doesn't buck your sorry ass off, its because at some point in his life, he has accepted that you will likely just keep climbing back on until he is too exhausted to bother.

Gawd. I cant even make my point clear enough. My horse does not load onto the trailer because he loves going to horse shows and sweating his rear off because of his undying love for me. He has no other choice because I don't offer him one.

Next time you start to fantasize about drying your tears off on your horses neck while he placidly comforts you due to his love for you, realize that the stinky animal is simply putting up with your blubbering because he is in his happy place and has got a stall full of yummy hay he can tune you out with in front of him.

I do love horses. But reality is reality.

If you want to argue this point, please, I always enjoy a good argument and my comment box is wide open.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

My baby boy

Our little man Hayden has not been an easy baby so far for us. He required bi weekly ultrasounds, weekly blood work, an early delivery, and spent his first 11 days very jaundiced in the NICU. But he has been very worth all of it.
He demands all attention in the room be on him at all times. For his first 4 months, he screamed pretty much all day long. If we wasn't sleeping, eating, or barfing, he was crying. Funny thing is you could always trick the cute little bugger into smiling long enough for a photo, so that people were convinced I just whine a lot. Just ask my mom about him. Between shuddering, she will support my claims.
Last few months have gotten a bit better. He is like a water fountain of baby barf, eternally nauseated by the smell of a clean shirt. The kid can curve barf. If you hold a receiving blanket close to his face, he can arc around the rag and nail you. And if he is particular about it, he can hit you with enough force that it will leak off your now soiled shirt and surely, soil your pants too. I keep cotton candy perfume in my truck as an attempt to mask the smell of baby puke I most certainly have on me.
But I have to give it to him, this kid is cute. He loves his mommy and can contort his body into almost any position in order to get a better look at me (as well as confirm that I am still in the room). He wants to be no more than an arm length away and has no qualms about using a very unpleasant screeching to ensure his world is as he wants it. Other woman can temporarily sedate him, but he really wants to nestle into his own mommies boosum. Suck my neck, yank my necklace, barf in my hair. He is all smiles for his mom. And I truly and genuinely TRY to hate that because it is a huge giant pain in my ass, but how can any woman refuse a male specimen with eyes and lips like that who genuinely has eyes for only herself. So give me some room to whine, but God, I love this kid :)


The girls have began to use the word NO.

This marks the passage from babyhood to toddler hood like nothing else.

Ben thinks its the most hilarious thing to ask them if they want to "go night night?" and they veryquickly state "No. No night night.". So he asks them that a hundred times a day. And each time they respond he laughs. They take him seriously each and every time.

Last week at camp it was clear that Olivia had a stinky in her diaper. So I asked her if she went ca ca. Her eyes got huge and round and almost double their regular size and she said "no. mmm mmmm.". How do you not laugh? I asked her if she was sure and she just as quickly said "no.". At least she was honest for the second question, lol.

Svea is the bossy sister. You can hear her from the next room, "No Via, NO!". Olivia pretends not to hear her. She bosses Ivan too. He actually listens.

Oh, and yesterday Hayden learned to blow bubbles instead of swallow his food. Of course, they must always learn the blow instead of swallow trick when eating something green. My little brother learned to do it while I fed him green beans, Hayden while I fed him green peas. He carried on this morning to blow his rice cereal all over me. Svea told him "Hayen NO!". He didn't listen.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Oh yes, and before I go to bed, I must introduce the Svea Pam Anderson show..

I swear, my MOM put these in her shirt. I admit to having a bit of a fantasy of having bigger, nicer, higher, and firmer breasts (just like Della's) but were we not just talking about how unrealistic some fakies can really look?

Svea had her own opinions about it.

WHAT are these?

Oh gawd...embarassing.
Please say no one is loooking.

"Ok, grow up. These
are dis-gus-ting. Ewww
just get-them-out."

"Goodbye Pam boobie
number one.."

"You are some freaky
kinda people."


You know, I wonder sometimes how I can possibly keep my kids safe until they grow up, and how if I manage to do that I will be able to relinquish control of their safety to trust them to take care of themselves when they do.

Today they can reach something they couldn't reach yesterday. Know how I know that? Svea reached wayyyy up high and grabbed a brand new fillet knife off my counter the other day and I didn't know she had it until I heard her banging something around on things and became alarmed at the curious clang she was making. My heart fell into my arse as I frantically flew across the room at her so I could grab the sword she was wielding before the unthinkable happened. Imagine all the things that could have happened? What if she had fell, or poked one of her siblings with it, or what if what if what if?

I am a pretty paranoid mom, after all. I religiously keep my bathroom door closed, day and night. No face cloth in the tub. Door handle cover on the knob. I am scared-to-death of my kids getting in that tub and drowning before I know they are even in there. I consider myself a careful mother....but I am constantly reminded of how out of control some things really can be.

We have these log railings that are a bit too high from the actual stairs and the girls have figured out not only how to crawl under the railing, but also to move the chair I put in front to prevent them from doing it so they can do it anyways and get upstairs. So I generally close all the gates behind me. But this morning my kids disappeared while I was feeding the baby and I could suddenly hear a suspicious giggling closet door slamming partyfest in my bedroom. How odd. The gate was closed, after all.

I guess I am just saying that you can be the worlds most careful parent, and bad things can happen anyway. I am so scared of that. No one told me when I became a mother that I would spend half my time feeling guilty and the other half worrying myself wrinkly. And you know what? I wouldn't have believed them anyways.

Life is so complicated sometimes. Ahhhhh!

I included a few photos of my girls in the super cute bathing suits and hula skirts Della got the girls for their birthday. Its too dang cold for them to swim in them, so for now they are fun dress up outfits and the girls love them. And I love photographing them, so everyone is happy. And check out Hayden, how cute is he? (Svea turned her head for almost every pic...which explains why most of the pics are of her camera happy sister)

Saturday, July 19, 2008

My Inspiration

Why is it that someone in this world has to experience such trauma before they can really know, I mean really and truly absolutely have any true concept of how "lucky" they are?

I keep coming back to this. I had no idea my life could be forever altered by becoming friends with and reading the blogs of woman who's loss and writings have truly touched me, my life, my perceptions, to the bottom-of-my-heart.

Sometimes I am in the middle of reading something particularly touching, particularly heartbreaking and I have to just close my computer and gather up what means the most to me and just hold them as close to me as a mother possibly can. Somehow life has taken on a bit of a different meaning to me. How lucky am I?

I am the luckiest woman alive.

I have goals and dreams and people in my world who will support me until they are met.

I have a husband I can rely on, respect, trust, and who I love from the very bottom of my heart.

I have three perfectly healthy, happy, beautiful and smart children who remind me every day of what beauty and love is really all about.

I have an outlet that calms my soul and is filled with friends who get that. Who make it what it is. Who make it why I love it so much.

I have some material things too....but nice as they are, they truly would be nothing without the things I listed above.

Just to mix things up...a sappy post to follow a silly one :)
(btw, there is no symbolic significance to what order these pics are in...I still cant figure out how to reorder them once they are loaded)

Bar hoppin momma

I am going to have to blame this on one Christine. She MADE me do it.

She took me on a girls night out. I innocently ordered and drank way more than I should of due to continual and relentless peer pressure.

My usual beauty routine consists of grabbing any nearby outfit and putting my air dried mass into a messy ponytail, and taking about 12 seconds to smear some crap on my face with a touch of mascara. But to go on a girls night out when unpracticed at attempting to look "hot", well, that takes a bit more time. But I did it. I managed to find one of those outfits in my closet of mom clothes that not only makes you look tall and skinny, but also makes you feel like a "hottie". Compliments of a bunch of hair extensions my husband would faint over if he knew how much I paid for them, and I was ready to be a bar barbie.

Like I said, all credit is due to Christine, who totally forced me to grab her ex boyfriends butt each time he would walk by. Christine forced me to tell all his friends that no man (one claimed he could, that's how it started) last longer than 15 minutes. IF I remember correctly, I clarified that intercourse timing does NOT start with foreplay and end with cuddling. I am talking about the know. Anyways, a man on booze will NOT admit to ever shooting his gun before at least an hour has gone by and I flat out told the men (the table was becoming oddly crowded with them) that they were full-of-shit. Thankfully, my wedding rings have created a large white indent on my otherwise tanned hands, so no one has to worry about what I said about my marital status. They all knew I was married. Oh yah, they knew. But I must say, most of them just frankly, don't give a damn. I say this all the time and truly believe in its wisdom..."flattery is flattery" , after all.

One kind Italian guy who was celebrating his most recent sons arrival frankly admitted (was that his name? LOL) that I was speaking the truth, and a truly "happy" guy does not take longer than 15 minutes to shoot his gun. Ha. I win.

I won until the day after. I got up at Christine's, forced back on the outfit that now seemed too tight and awfully uncomfortable and drove my sorry arse home. Turns out the motion created some motion sickness that lasted ALL DAMN DAY. My mom watched the kids so I could be pressured into the drinking and was now off duty. I resorted to carrying around a popcorn bucket to barf in each and every time I was forced to move. Granted, the kids gave me a great day, Olivia imitated my barfing and slapped my back (what support) and Svea gently rubbed my back and offered me kisses. Her breath....OMG...made me nauseous, but I already felt guilty enough being a total dead beat mom, so I had to kiss her back, but it is the thought that counts. Even Hayden was a champion yesterday.

Anyways, I survived my night out with the girls. I had a great time. I payed for it completely, and today is a new day.

So yah, thanks Christine (and far I have left her out of this, but she is not nearly as innocent as she looks) for a good time and even better hangover.

Until next time....

A few more pics from Polly Lake