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.

A few photos of my gals

Hayden and his stinky sisters.

Hayden rolled over on Tuesday night for the first time. He discovered this new trick at 4:12 am and trying to get him to stay on his belly (yes, he is a tummy sleeper) after this was like trying to hold a weeble down....as soon as you let it go, it flips right back. And that is what he did. We played the weeble game last night too, only at 3:30 am. Right after our 1:50 am wake up call from Olivia (who lost her boken doo doo) and our 2:45 am wake up call from both the girls who were standing in their cribs in deep conversation with one another.

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.

Just to be a bit of a tease

My show jacket.

Because this shot makes me laugh my butt off

I told you to sit down. Scary up there aint it?

Dont push it when she is here.

I have no idea who, if anyone, reads my blog. But I am gonna go a little TMI here. I have the WORST cramps. How is it that I can get SO emotional on the days leading up to that nasty Aunt Flo and not clue in? How is it that BEN doesn't clue in? He calls me crazy. He might be right. But he experiences me completely different than I experience myself and I figure its HIS JOB to clue me in that she is obviously well on her way. Because I have to be honest here, I have three babies. I have no freaken brain. I need to buy shares in the post it notes company, because I practically need those things to remember when to go to the bathroom lately. Though, Aunt Flo has her own nasty little ways of reminding you without the need for any little yellow stickies. Either way, I feel like I could possibly bleed-to-death. Ooops. That tmi thing again. Sorry guys. I *ahem* got my tubes tied after Hayden and nothing has been the same since. Well, not only because of the tube tying I suppose. I mean, that has nothing to do with the fact that my boobs deflated. Like...you know when you have a party and you use the regular old latex balloons full of helium and they eventually start to shrink? Well, boobs do that too. And mine did. Oh yah, if I don't pay good money for a premium bra, the dang thing rides half way up and I get four boobs. Double. Just like the twins I guess. And I don't think tying my tubes has anything to do with the little world map I have going on on my lumpy tummy either. Or wait....the cellulite I am starting to notice creeping up on my thighs..or even better, the sag butt. OK, I am still pretty ok with my butt....BUT (heheh...how ironic) it IS starting to sag in the centre compared to the way it used to. Nothing is really in the right place anymore. None of that is my tubes. Nope. Its these dang kids. Why is it that the man gets off totally scott free (another LOL for those who know why that's ironic too) in that department? I mean, here are us moms, bagging out our bodies to give our husbands beautiful children, and we stress over how we look naked because we want to look good for THEM. But, who has the bigger gut out of me and Ben? Well its him, obviously. And his is (put on my best manly voice, not that hard for me though) "Bought and paid for". WHY is that so funny? Whatever. Men are from Uranus, Woman from Mars. That's my line and I am sticking to it. (making all those periods red, was really, really annoying. Period.)

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.

I got me my fishing licence today. Forecast for our fly in trip. Rain. Rain rain and more rain. Good thing I bought a rain jacket and overalls.

I better go Google landing a float plane during rain. That way I can ensure I will get a good sleep tonight.

Sex in the float plane

I just came back from The Sex in the City movie. I never watched it on tv, but I quite enjoyed it in the theatre. I am so terrible with names...but who cares, I just really connected with the lady who loved umm...coloring. She was awesome. And I must say that I am pretty sure Ben and I dont stay in the lines either. Did I just say that? Ok, yah maybe we do. See, now you are no more educated on my personal life than when we started. The movie was good even for person who was not a fan of the show. Sarah Jessica Parker is THAT good. I even wanted to bawl a couple of times (though that is becoming easier and easier to do, as of late).

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"

Um...yah.

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.

Strange kids.

I do find this online journalling (as I like to think of it) as strangely therapeutic. It seems funny on here. It didn't feel funny today. But at the end of the day, I look at my children, and they are, really....funny.

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.

My Resignation. I may pull it tommorow..but its good enough for today.

My Resignation
Author Unknown

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."

Our jungle of tears

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.

Cabin fever?

We made it to the lake two weekends in a row. I cant tell you how I love going to the lake. 4 days at home, 3 at the lake, impossible for life to get boring, and the kids LOVE it. I forgot my camera and would have stoned myself for it, only I dont like pain. But really, it was very frustrating. The girls got a new swingset with a slide. We replaced the swings with toddler ones and only wish we had gotten a set with room for 3 swings, because Hayden, as it turns out loves the bigger cooler outdoor version of a swing (even if he does scream in indignation and resentment if you put him in one of those very cool infant ones I have in my home)...... well, if I interpreted the squealing and giggling correctly, that is. Dang, I wish I had brought a camera along. They sure loved the water. This weekend the kids only stood in it with me, kicking and splashing and touching the sand with their little hands. We talked about the ducks on the water (Svea shouted "Duck Water!! Duck Water!! and pointed all weekend), we watched a beautiful storm from the kitchen window, went on family quad rides (at 11 kms/hour, dont worry), and of course, enjoyed the sauna.

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.

hint

(they dont give ambien quite so freely here in Canada)

:P

Margerita Mommas

I think its important for woman to have girlfriends. Even if you are married to the perfect man (ok, we all know he doesnt exist), you need a girl to truly understand mommyhood and its layers. So my girlfriend Christine and I take the occasional "Margerita Mommy" night. Wait till the kids pass out, pretend we never have heard of a thing called calories, and well, drink. Of course, like any other responsible mommy would, we only drink enough to get the warm and fuzzies (we do afterall, have to wake to our children), but we eat and we laugh and we talk smack (LOL) and watch movies. Chick flicks. Horrors. Whatever...since we usually forget to actually watch. But its great, and I had one last night, so I thought I would share.

We have had so much rain here, the grass is a mile long and saturated. Our lawn looks like the amazon jungle and Ben is paranoid to let me operate his lawn tractor for fear that I will find the rock garden out there and I dunno, eat his blades or something. Being that he only has the weekends off and we are proud cottage owners, our grass will apparently be knee length by the time it is cut. If the neighbours wine, too freaken bad (sorry mom). Ha. My mom is our only neighbour. We are bad neighbours actually. Our black lab (Ivan the Terrible) will not poop in our lawn. He goes to my moms lawn. Our sub pump hasnt stopped running in weeks, and it floods her yard. No matter to her, since she is always over here babysitting the grand children. Its a wonder she hasnt got call display yet. If I were her, I would have it and I would screen my calls. But my mother loves me and she is the very best grandmother around.

We won a fly in fishing trip through the newspaper that we are cashing in on next weekend. It is in Wabakimi, Armstrong. We fly out Sat. morning and return on Monday. I have always wanted to do a fly in trip, but I am truly scared to death about the float plane. So put in some extra prayers for us, we want lots of fish....and since they will only allow us to fly with 60 lbs of luggage each (bedding, food, clothes, bugspray, tackle and bait AND BOOZE), we will NEED the fish...because we have decided just to bring water and the stuff to cook the fish in. And beer. We can live without the rest of it.

Off to the lake.

Dummy doo doo

Thats what their Nanna calls their soothers. At first, I really thought it was a silly name for a soother, but with time, I have decided she was on to something.

The girls have only really ever used pacifiers while in their cribs at bedtime (well, once we got past the first year anyway), but lately I have noticed Svea has become almost obsessive about them. Yesterday she crossed the line to clinically insane when she became absolutely hysterical when she found a door dividing herself and her soother. I decided then and there that I was only going to have "Boken" soothers in the house after that. I "Boke" every soother with a pair of scissors I could get my hands on. Each desperate cry for a "doo doo" resulted in another "boken" one. Eventually she decided on one particular "boken doo doo" that she still enjoyed. Ugh. So, I feel like a real dummy when it comes to this "doo doo" thing. I figured I would see what tommorow brings before any further action. I took a very endearing video of her fit, but I cant figure out how to upload it.

This morning Olivia woke and we went through a very similar process.

Doubles. I have a feeling I will be experiencing dejavou every other day until the girls move out.

Hayden has been such a good boy this morning. Thought I would make note of that.

I cry everyday

I do. I know it sounds strange, especially for those of you who really know me. My friend Manda (mom of twins I speak of often from my "due date club") lost her beautiful 9 month old daughter, Aleah, in Feb. 2007. I will never be the same because of this mom and her beautiful angel daughter. She recently introduced me to a blog of a woman who lost her 3 year old daughter. Every time I read that blog, I cry. I cry for that beautiful little girl and her mom and for Manda and Aleah and for every mom who ever has lost their child. I cant stop myself from immediately imagining what it would be to lose one of my own children, and the truth is, I cannot. I can cry these tears and gasp in pain at the loss of someone elses child, but the reality is that I experience only the tiniest fraction of what these moms have endured, what they have lost, and what kind of strength they require to keep going on.

I gain so much from these daily tears, I have to tell you. I remember how truly lucky I am to have these beautiful children. Each tear, tantrum, mess, and frustration is symbolic of the life that lives on under this roof. Of how very precious each moment is and how important my job is as these kids mom. I dont want to just manage my days and make it through. I want these children to know exactly how special they are, how beautiful, and most importantly, how loved. People comment all the time on how they dont know how I do it (clearly in reference to the 3 at 2 and under factor) and I completely understand the innocence of the question. But it has me thinking...why should I just endure this as the question almost implies? I dont endure this everyone....I truly love it. And I am honoured to have this important job. How heartbreaking that in order to come to this conclusion at this point in my life, I read a blog and cry a river of tears for someone elses beautiful lost child. But, these children have impacted so many people this way. Have inspired so many moms to be so much better parents. To understand their true responsibility to their kids has nothing to do with "making it through", but rather to be a tool their child can learn to fly with.