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 actual..you 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 Tara...so 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

Potty talk

Gramma bought the girls a potty each yesterday. These ones are super cool because if you manage to get something in the potty, it sings you a lovely tune, a "reward", the box says. I didn't install that particular feature yet, as I thought it would be good just to let the girls see the potties, touch them, play with them, basically familiarize themselves with them. I have talked about potties with them a bit, and they happily sat on their potties fully clothed and had some mommy daughter potty talk while I did my own business on the big girl potty (tmi.).

Anyways, sometimes, if we all need it, I find its easiest to just have a family bath. I get all the kids undressed, then myself, and we all climb in together. Turns out as I started to strip Hayden down that he was FINALLY successful in his mission to have a decent poop and I needed wipes. So I grabbed the wipes from his room next to the bathroom. Came back and one of the girls had pooped on the floor. So I cheerfully picked it up and put it in the potty and let the girls watch me flush it down.

Anyways, after the bath the girls wanted to play on their potties before I managed to dress them. Fine, play away, after all, this is all about getting comfortable with using the potties, right? I dress baby while the girls play and as I come out of Hayden's room with him in my arms I notice both the girls laying belly down on the tile floor licking some sort of fluid on the floor. Hmmmm.....wanna take a guess at what that certain fluid was? Yah...pee. I scoop the girls up and try to use words appropriate to a toddler to explain why it was not ok to drink pee...but they were so excited about the pee that they listened while spreading it around the floor with their hands. At this point I realize I really need to get the offending pee off the floor and run for a towel...the toddler talk apparently was not helping, at-all. As I run to get the towel, I hear a loud thump and the offended Octave Olivia shriek. Olivia now had slipped in the pee and was laying on her back in it, screaming her head off. This kid now has pee on the front from drinking it, on her arms and hands from playing with it, and on her back from laying in it.

Back to the tub. Straight to bed. I am exhausted. Thanks for listening.

Before I lay me down to sleep

I pray the lord my soul to keep.

Today was a trying day. Hayden screetched his little lungs out for the entire car ride to Old Navy and for at least half the time I was in there trying to buy him some sweaters (due to the cold nothern summer we are experiencing). People were shooting me those sympathetic looks and taking them back as I strolled by grumbling about my baby for sale...eventually he might UNDERSTAND when I threaten to take him to CAS, but right now he DOES NOT. So shuttup. I am a single parent to three kids two and under...gimme a break. I sometimes have to hold my pee till my body takes it back, eat once my body is turning salmon pink from starvation and shower while my kids point out my body parts with a cool breeze blowing on my...forget it. Its that silly tmi thing again. You get-my-point.

Supper time entailed Svea having a complete and total meltdown because my water glass was too tall. Yah, she couldnt reach the straw. The waitress was a pretty blond idiot and the meal sucked and she practically outwardly grimaced at my request for a shorter glass so Svea the Screamer would zip it and be able to drink out of a shorter cup.

The threshold between the mall hallway and the Childrens Place proved to be too much for the girls to handle and when the high pitched whining started to crack the glass, Grandma the Great rescued mommy and took the girls pinwheel shopping so I could find some much needed clothes for the screaming baby I happily left at Christines house who so gallantly offered to save his life by taking him off my hands. Figuratively speaking of course....the baby is the light of my life, but is completly and totally OBSESSED with me and cant handle me being out of his reach for longer than half of a second.

Grandma got the girls a potty today. One each. She spoils them and I am happy for it. Now, when they point out my body parts and talk about the potty while I pee, I can return the favour. I guess I better go get some pull ups. These potties SING when you pee in them. I am tempted to start using them myself. Only if someone else would clean them out though (Grandma??)

I should go to bed. Della told me why we use the term "I have to pee like a racehorse" but I dont remember already...LOL. Can you please remind me? Cuz I need to right now.

Gnitey everyone. Tommorow is a newwww day.

I love my kids AND my tied tubes :)

By golly, its Polly under all that RAIN

We just came home from a week at our pretty new camp. We love it. Love it love it. The kids love it too. Unfortunately, this year it just rains, rains, rains and rains. So we are making the very best of the sunny (and not so sunny) moments as best we can.

This weekend we had a crew out. It was super fun playing trailer park boys. We balanced a rye and coke in one hand, the kids in the other, battled gusting awning rip off worthy winds, ignored the cats and dogs falling out of the sky and just had a blast, despite mother nature (whom I am pretty sure, has a real bad AF so far this summer. Period. Why complain? There were sunny moments, after all.

Summer always brings with it, some nostalgia...and I found myself remembering my cousin Mailis and I enjoying whatever weather was thrown at us at camp. Whats a little rain when you are playing in the water anyways right? The kids at our cottage this weekend had just that attitude. What weather? Straight from the Sauna to the lake. Like a little rain should even put a cloud over their sunny little world of rainbows and candy. I miss that. The difference was that those kids had on some clothes...I don't think Mailis and I bothered with those too much. After all, we do have some Finn blood coursing through our veins. Speaking of which, I showed off my heritage as Ben gasped and laughed out loud when I threw caution to the wind, ignored the fact that we are sadly short on tree coverage on one side of our property, and did the real Finn Sauna lake run. I was super modest about it though. I ran WITH a towel on from sauna to lake, dropped the offending towel and ran on in, jiggly butt bared to all who happened to be watching and had my skinny dip. The frontal view was likely more shocking than the rear view, being that the front bears the oranges in socks, world map, and newly acquired summer time beer belly. But you know what? Suck it up buttercup. Its my camp and I will swim naked if I want to.

On a different note, Ben and I got the super best deal on some old playground equipment that we plan to pick up in a few weeks and set up at camp. The good old stuff. Like the kind we all used to play on as kids. Cant wait to get it!

Mission Accomplished

The Vagina Monologue convo with Val (she's so bad)

















oops same one


























Liisa showing Jag in showmanship


Mom and I negotiated to make the Dryden QH Show about having fun. And we did. My darling sister arrived with Kaidi, Kathy, and Migwin and I felt like Dale Earnhardt Jr. with his entire pit crew.





We decided that the Jag actually performs BETTER if I just never bother to ride him with the exception of the week before the show. Or it could have been sheer exhaustion. He was for the most part, a very good boy. We won some ribbons and he outperformed himself, proving his ability to cross over from Mr. English since I am so tall to Mr. Western since I can move my legs so slow.





The kids were AMAZING. We brought an outdoor carpet along and it was almost as effective as electric fence (NOT that we have tried that) for keeping the kids inside its boundaries. The girls gleefully shouted HORSEY and whinnied, and Hayden sat in his excersaucer (drooling in only his diaper...) with a smile on his now TWO toothed little grin!





Val and I discussed the Vagina Monologues in great detail, we covered hedgehogs and undergarments, blisters and remedies, drank beer and just generally hung it all out. I mean for me, I genuinely mean, allll out. I think Melanie's dad was afraid to walk to her trailer as walking by mine was like some kind of strip show from Vegas with all the sequins, rhinestones, and leather flashing on over there (and supposedly, the umm...undergarment thing may have been at least slightly shocking as well). If so, ummm....seriously sorry over here. snort snort giggle giggle.





I am entirely exhausted. I had a great weekend. We won a couple of western pleasure classes, and took home some points in showmanship and hunter under saddle as well. I got no blisters, hangovers, or black eyes. Someone STOLE every dang thing I had in the barns when we went for dinner including my freaken wheelbarrow (who seriously steals wheelbarrows??).....without that little problem, it was a wonderful weekend.





Thanks guys :)





See you in Emo

Kaija's theory.

Men can be soooo dumb.

Horse people can be soooo stubborn. You can lead a horse to water, but you cant make him drink. The trick is in learning to convince him that he WANTS a drink, backing off, and then telling him what a good boy he is when he tells you he is thirsty. Then he rolls his eyes around, bats his eyelashes, cuddles up to you, states his undying love for you, and gives you what you wanted to start with.

Ha. Mission accomplished.

I am off to Dryden to show my horse for the weekend. Sans the husband. See you when I get back :)

What was I thinking?

I dunno. I like to refuse to let the world slow me down and to have at least a slight tendency to laugh in the face of adversity. Or it laughs at me. Probably a bit of both. I mean really, I have barely swung my leg over that beasts back over the last month and a half, just returned from a fly in fishing "Call of the wild" style trip, and have three little charges creating havoc in my home. Why wouldn't I decide to pack not only those three little angels, but also two horses into my new(er) 3 horse slant load weekender package edition trailer and head out of town for a horse show with no man to save me if I get a flat or...whatever...? We decided that although its great that the new horse trailer has a bed and a microwave, we simply don't feel ready to grin and bear the effects of an entire weekend of camping out in cramped quarters with three kids, so we are staying at a Best Western with a pool. There is a light at the end of the tunnel (Thanks, Val).

So you should see the trailer. Don't open the door I tell ya. Its packed with enough gear to take the Adams family on a week long cruise in the Caribbean (I think I am distantly related...can I come too?). And you know what? Two days aint enough time to get it done. I have the support of wonderful friends and family and I couldn't do these things without that help. Thank you Della for taking a layer off of Jag for me, Mom for being these kids backup mom, and Don for getting rid of the two week high pile of nasty stinky garbage from my garage. And thank you to Shelley, btw, for watching the rug rats so we could do that Call of the Wild vacation too!

Every once in awhile these kids take pity on me. I think last night was one of those nights. They all slept in until 9:00 this morning! Yay. I needed the sleep and finally got a good one last night.

I got so much done yesterday. All I gotta do today is pack all my normal clothes, the kids clothes, diapers, baby food, hats, sunblock, the rest of my horsey laundry, iron my English blouses, ride my horses, clip Fuji's back legs, tidy up the house, do several loads of laundry, squeeze in a shower, wash the truck and hook up the trailer. No problem. I got twice that done yesterday. Next weekend I am at camp with a beer in my hand, no Crown Royal or horses anywhere to be seen and I plan to spend the entire time in my bathing suit. If you want a piece of me, too bad. I am handing the kids over to my husband and playing dead beat mom for at least the entire weekend. Ha. I wish. But after 8 the world is mine. I love those mints and now I know why :)

See you in Dryden

So, I got my new show jacket just before I left for my trip. It was intended, originally, to be a new showmanship jacket, but apparently my estimation for length, was out. LOL. A fair amount. That's what happens when you let an amateur attempt at getting her own measurements right. So, being that I already HAVE a new showmanship jacket, this new one is going to be my new rail jacket. And honestly, I personally thought it was a bit dumb we were even having another showmanship jacket made given my true desire to really drag this particular horse into a showmanship class in our current.....lets say....situation. I have nothing to RIDE him in, since it has been about 6 years since I have really shown in western...we haven't exactly been shopping for clothes for it. So, all things considered, it was a error with a good ending. I love the jacket. It is wonderfully made with amazing attention to detail. The embroidery is beautiful. Each crystal is sewn on. The lambskin is butter soft. The poly wool blend is gorgeous. She has it lined with a snow white beautiful fabric. (She would be Sar, the new designer that made the jacket for me. Her work can be seen at www.sarcouture.com). I think I put a bit of weight on since measuring and the arms are slightly tight, though, I think without the liner I would have a bit more room.

(note that I am wearing navy pants in this photo as my new black ones are on route).

So anyways, here it is ladies and gentleman. For some strange reason I am actually planning to show my horse in Dryden, ON this Friday-Sunday. I have rode him umm....3 times in the last month. He was a bit of a head case this evening. I figure I can announce to the world that with these kids I barely have a chance to ride, and everyone will understand if he is not (and surely will not) be perfect this weekend. I can be sure to get the sympathy of everyone...except the judge. So if you see me frantic, frustrated, sad, or just plain confused, please...take pity, offer me a beer, a tranquilizer, or simply take a baby off my hands. All three will be there...you have plenty to choose from.

See you in Dryden!

Operation Outpost

We made it!

After dragging my sorry butt out of bed at the ungodly hour of 3:30 AM on Sat. morning, Ben and I arrived in Armstrong at 7:30 AM ready for our flight scheduled to leave at 10:00 AM. Don't ask me why they need us there 2 1/2 hours early, but we don't do late...so we were there with our bells on and very patiently waited...and waited....and waited and waited some more. The "ceiling" was low and it was absolutely pouring out there. We waited until about 6:30 pm for that flight and were lucky enough to have met some very interesting American fellows, who were waiting to fly about an hour north for a more remote fly in trip even, than ours. Turns out American folk patiently wait, just add booze. One of those fine gentleman broke out a case of Blue, and when we were done that, opened up his $45 bottle of Crown Royal. Turns out this particular type of Crown Royal goes down bored wives dying to get fishing very very very smoothly. By the time I boarded our Beaver, I was feeling completely relaxed, and totally willing to board an airplane with visible duct tape and patched pontoons that was made in ummm....1959. I was clear enough headed to make sure I knew where the door handles were and how they opened. And we were off....

We caught a few fish that first night, but only had a few hours on the lake and it was getting dark.

Fast forward to the next morning. Turns out Crown Royal goes down real smooth....and comes up like road rage. After my stomach expelled both my fruit loops and the bit of coffee I managed to make and pour between moaning and digging desperately for Advil, I boarded the boat Ben sat in glaring at me with that particular look he gets on his face when he disapproves of his wife's behaviour. I made it through that morning by the skin of my teeth, forced my eyes open when they were rolling back desperately trying to return to the blessed state of slumber they really wanted to still be in. By afternoon, I still wasn't real interested in my beloved beer, but I was game on for fishing and we portaged through a narrow trail (that actually initially more resembled a creek) for about a km, and made it into Boulder Lake (the name speaks for itself). We smoked em out of that lake like they were going out of style. Once the fuel started to get low in the boat (we had to portage the motor with us, and the only fuel we had was in it) I started to get a bit ansy to get back. Ben promised me left right and centre that it had plenty of fuel in it to make it back to the portage point, but alas, we were about 200 feet from short (forgot our paddles in other lake) when it stalled. Turns out if you rock the boat hard enough you can get some fuel to splash into the carb and narrowly, we made it back to shore. I am scared half to death of bears and refused to carry anything that resembled fish through that trail and practically had to run to keep up with Ben's long legs, but we made it back with big huge smiles on both of our faces. No big ones, but lots of eaters and action to spark both of us up.

As our kind of luck would have it, the water pump at the camp bit the bullet and we were forced into washing in the very fresh lake. And hauling water for dishes from the lake to the cottage. The swim was actually really fun, and really refreshing, but I was somewhat ansy at the number of bloodsuckers I could see hungrily swimming around the dock.

I had spent a fair amount of my liquored up state trying to convince Brenda (the lady who runs the B&B we hung out in waiting for our plane to be able to take off from) to push off our return flight on Monday a bit later (originally scheduled for 10:00 AM), but found when we checked in with them this morning that they actually bumped us forward until 9:15 AM...pppphhhhht to Brenda! I guess they had to bring our plane to Winnipeg for some maintenance.

The flights were totally uneventful. The view is beautiful. Our pilot was amazing and the landings were completely smooth and perfect. Turns out some Americans who rented a 1.5 million dollar float plane to do their own fly in fishing trip crashed their plane on Sunday morning. Of course, I discovered this as we flew over the plane while it was floating pontoon side up in the lake. Thankfully, they were able to get out and no one was hurt. Apparently one of the pontoons was full of water and it put them off balance as they landed, flipped, and began to sink. We were about 1 minute from our landing when I saw the plane and heard the story. I simply tightened my seat belt and prayed. LOL.

We loved it. It was short but sweet, and I think it may become an annual event. (minus the Crown Royal...which by the way, will never ever get near my lips ever ever again. Ever.)

Well, wish us luck...

We leave at 4:00 am tommorow morning to drive to Armstrong, where we will fly out from. The area we are going to is 4.5 million acres of provincial parkland accessable only by plane or train. Or canoe, if you like that sort of thing. The lake (and all the portage lakes surrounding the area with extra boats and motors stashed in them) will be all ours.

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....

Boys and their Balls

Just like a man, he feels most comfortable surrounded in balls. Blue balls. Tasty balls.

yah.

Family traits

Svea has this..."thing" about farting. If someone farts, she announces it matter of fact like. "Fot". And she looks at the offender with a certain twinkle in her eye. Ben got home early this morning. We are all hangin in the kitchen when I *ahem* pass a little gas. She looks right at Ben and says "Daddy.". LOL. A few minutes later, same thing, same response. She KNOWS already, that its ALWAYS the mans fault. This one is going to do me proud.

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.

I Have Noodles in My Nostrils

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.
--Kenn Nesbitt

How cute is this poem? I love it.