Jen's Holiday House Tour

Hi everyone! Welcome to the Great White North stop on the Holiday Homes Tour!!! Nothing really decorates a house for Christmas like the 107 cm of snow we got last week. And it's still snowing.....can I just say here how much more I like snow when someone else shovels it?



I revamped my outdoor decorations a bit this year, go see how they used to look....I'll wait. Santa tied that beautiful ribbon on the kids' Christmas gifts last year, and I got the red polka-dot
balls at Ikea in January, 50 cents for 4!



Bad and I tracked through the woods with some friends to snip some dogwood and evergreen branches to fill up our planters, and I love love love them.



The decorations in the house are much the same as always, but the girlie and I have been making these Polish star ornaments like mad. We've made white, blue, purple, orange, green, red, and yellow. We saw some on Etsy and I loved them, but they were $20 dollars and I'm cheap, so I just googled for directions, and other than being a bit time-consuming, they really aren't that difficult to make.

And that's the tour....I can't show you anymore because I haven't washed the dishes or made the beds!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Comeback of the Day

Me to Hubs: "The difference is that the arts and crafts rarely step in dog poop."

Can you guess what we were arguing about?

Damage Control

Dear Princess,

It's about time your mother did something about her housekeeping, though it is a pity she had to choose today to start. But nevermind darling, us tooth fairies have a special magic spell to help us find missing teeth, so there's no harm done. And actually darling, after going through the dishwasher, your little tooth is the very cleanest one in my whole collection!

Don't be too hard on your mommy Princess, she just made a mistake, and your tears just about broke her heart tonight. She loves you more than the moon and stars and sun, but she's only a human....not everyone gets to be a magic fairy.

Love the Tooth Fairy

I think we can skip the soap this time....

Princess: "MOMMY! MOMMY! Bad said the 'S' word!"

Me: "Really?....what's the 'S' word?"

Princess (leaning in to whisper in my ear): "Stupid!"

Me: "Bad - did you say 'stupid'?"

Bad: "Yes."

Me: "Did you call your sister 'stupid'?"

Bad: "No."

Me: "Then what did you call stupid?"

Bad: "Ken's shirt."

Me: "Okay....Princess, you're right - stupid isn't a nice word and we should try not to use it. However, Ken's shirt IS stupid, so let's just let it slide this time, alright?"

Happy Neck

This post could also be titled, "When trying to take photos of yourself, you should try putting on make-up and brushing your hair. And learn how to use the timer on your camera. And possibly Photoshop...." But nevermind. That's not the point. The point is that I won a lovely handknit scarf from Jen on the Edge in her blogoversary contest, and it came in the mail yesterday.

It's soft and warm and lovely, and detracts attention from the fact that I haven't put on make-up or brushed my hair. What more could you ask from an accessory?

Thanks Jen, I love it.

Merry Christmas

I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday. We're still in lounging around in pyjamas mode, the kids playing with their toys while I try to coax a cappuccino out of mine. It was a zoo here for a couple of days, but a wonderful one, and Hubs cleaned the house yesterday while I lounged on the sofa watching 'Up' with the kids. What more could I ask for?



I love kiddos in matching jammies.

The presents were a success. Hubs built the train table and he did such a good job, I was afraid to paint it...but I think it turned out pretty well in the end.

The kids and I made a buche de noel with meringue mushrooms for Christmas dessert. I made one last year, but I didn't know what a jelly-roll pan was, so I guessed....and I guessed wrong. This year's attempt was much more successful.

I'm looking forward to a few more days of family fun, the Olympic Torch is passing near us on Tuesday, so we're going to go see that, and if the weather co-operates we'll do some tobogganing and skating. Other than that we've no plans beyond hanging out by the fire.

Happy New Year!

Cookies for Santa

Okay, I know it's a little late in the game to be suggesting a craft project, but this turned out so well that I just had to share it. I had all the supplies I needed when the inspiration struck me, but even if you have to go out and buy the glass plate, it's an easy project and your kids will love it. You'll love it. Santa will love it.



Supplies - clear glass plate
- acrylic paint
- acrylic gloss medium (this is your glue and sealer, any art store should stock it, though you could probably thin out some white school glue and use that....try 3 parts glue to 1 part water...both will go on cloudy but dry clear.)
- colourful pages ripped from old magazines

Step 1 - cut out your letters and any other decorations from your old magazines. (Most other paper will be too thick.) We made a simple tree, and used a single-hole punch to make perfect circles for the ornaments.

Step 2 - paint the underside of your plate with the gloss medium, and stick on your letters and decorations, so the good side is in the glue. Remember that your writing needs to go backward, so that it will be in the right spot when you flip the plate over. Brush more gloss medium over the back of your letters and decorations.

Step 3 - let it dry

Step 4 - paint the underside of your plate with acrylic paint in the colour of your choice. Go right over your letters and decorations.

Step 5 - let it dry

Step 6 - repeat steps 4 and 5

Step 7 - add a few coats of gloss medium to seal, and you're done! Because all the paint is on the underside of your plate, this is totally foodsafe. It is not, however, waterproof. So wash carefully, the bottom won't take more than a gentle wipe with a damp cloth.

The gloss medium and acrylic paint both dry pretty quickly, so you can complete this in an afternoon. Just let it dry well overnight before setting it down right-side up.

I hope Santa's good to everyone....Merry Christmas!!!



xo Badness

'Tis the Season....

...for the HO-HO-HOUSE TOUR!!!



...to send happy wishes to friends. Thanks Jen, for sending a card that co-ordinates so well with our silver tinsel trees! I love it when a plan comes together.

....to count down the days with anxiety, or impatient glee. Depending of course, on which side of the generation gap you fall.

....for sweet little elves to march in parades.

....and whisper secrets to Santa.



....for sugarplum fairies to welcome you in. I'm loving this addition to my favourite wreath. Genius? Why yes I am!

....to cut down big-ass lopsided trees and dress them up like a drag queen.

...for new stockings, hung by the fire. And just so you know, I'm much better with puffy fabric glitter than I am with MS Paint!

...for jolly old elves. My dad made this one for me for Christmas last year, and from now 'til forever it will be my favourite ornament. You know you love it too.

for pinecones and disco balls and candy-canes.

I love me some disco glitter. What do you want? I was born in 1975....

...for secret workshop projects. Bad asked Santa for a train table for Christmas, but Hubs and I had a few reservations. They're generally ridiculously priced and only sturdy enough to withstand average children. While we will encourage Bad not to jump and dance on it, we do try to live in the real world. Also, we were worried about Santa getting it stuck in the chimney. So Hubs built a tank of a table, and I painstakingly painted the storybook topography that no one will ever see under all the trains. Then I rearranged all the furniture in the living room so there will be somewhere to put this on Christmas Eve.

Merry Christmas everyone, I hope that wherever you are, it's filled with Christmas cheer. Here's last year's post if you want still more...and don't forget to check out all the other stops on this year's tour.

Family Portrait

The Scene: Bad, muttering to himself, while drawing intently at the kitchen table. Me, face in the neck of my shirt, trying not to laugh out loud.

"Hmm...there's Grandma...what does she need? Yes! Hair! (ed. note - in real life the rest of us have hair too.) Hmm...there's Sally (ed. note - that's our dog) what does she need? Booger holes! Yes! Sally always needs booger holes!"





Booger holes indeed. We've all got them, we all need them. And I think it's a pretty good drawing from a boy who only just turned 3. Biased? You bet.

Captain Nudie-butt

That's what the Princess has started calling Bad - and she's chasing him around the house trying to dress him by force. I'm afraid to intervene.

Ring Ring!

Phonecall 1

Hubs: Hello?

Me: I can't find the ground turkey! I think I'm losing my mind!

Hubs: What? (At least he didn't need to ask who was calling)

Me: I thought I took it out of the fridge, but I can't find it!

Hubs: Did you look IN the fridge?

Me: Yes!

Hubs: There's a lot of crap in there....did you look behind the crap?

Me: Yes! I took almost everything out!

Hubs: Did you look in the freezer?

Me: Yes! I thought maybe you put it there...

Hubs: Did you maybe put it in a cupboard or something, when you were looking for something else?

Me: I've looked in all of them! It's not there! It's not on the counter or the table, or in your office....it's disappeared!

Hubs: Well, there's not much I can do from here. We'll find it tomorrow when it starts to stink.

Phonecall 2

Hubs: Hello?

Me: Bad had it. He was taking it for a ride in his dumptruck.

Is it me?

I just got off the phone with Hubs and he's feeling all pissy because I mentioned that Bad went to the Princess's school wearing her tights under his shorts. I thought it was funny, Hubs patently did not. He intimated that I let the boy get away with murder, and when I didn't respond he came out with the "maybe it's my fault for not being involved enough". Whatever. Bad's 2. He wanted to wear shorts. I wanted him to be warm. I said he could wear tights under his shorts, and although I was joking he thought it was a great idea and put some on. I didn't care - and I needed the laugh. So....am I an overly permissive parent? Scarring the boy's psyche for life? Or, heaven forbid, could I possibly be in the right?

Farewell, sweet smile.

She's always been self-conscious about the gap in her teeth, but I loved it, and am I ever going to miss my baby's smile.

Then again, this big girl has a pretty cute grin...and I'm really looking forward to getting to know her.

And then light shone down from the heavens and the angels sang....

So. That last post was a wee bit negative, wasn't it? (Thanks everybody for your supportive and encouraging words!) I wasn't a happy camper, and I let that mood follow me around for a long time. This week, however, I had an allelujah moment. Bad's been on the waiting list for a speech assessment since his 2nd birthday (11 months ago!) and on Monday the clinic called me. They'd had a cancellation for Thursday, and did we want the appointment? YES we did. On Thursday morning I used all my evil mommy powers to trick Bad into wearing matching, season appropriate clothing. (Gotta make a good impression!) We dropped the Princess off at school and headed off to the speech 'doctor'. (Boy loves doctors, go figure.) While we were sitting in their toy-filled wonderland of a waiting room, I spied the following title on their bookshelves:






The title caught my eye, because when I try to explain Bad to people, I always say "his spirit is just too big for his little body to control." And the subtitle on the book? A Guide for Parents Whose Child Is More Intense, Sensitive, Perceptive, Persistent, and Energetic - MORE. That's what Bad is! He's MORE. I plucked it down and started reading, and wow. I managed to read the introduction, and skim through some of the chapters before being called into our appointment, and just that little bit has helped me reframe his behaviour and deal with him more effectively. I am going out to buy a copy today.

And his appointment? He's got a lateral lisp and some articulation issues, but he scored in the 98th percentile for his language skills. The speech pathologist couldn't believe how well he did (the test she used is for 3-6 year olds). He's going to start articulation therapy next week, and as were leaving she said, "Karen (the therapist he'll be working with) is just going to eat him up." I've always known he was awesome, but I'll admit that the preschool incident really shook me up, and having a stranger recognize his charm and potential really helped me shake off the blues. I'm should be back to my regularly scheduled crazy in no time.

Ugh.

On Tuesday I posted "Happy happy me!" on my Facebook page. I hate to follow that up with "I'm not getting back out of bed until July" so I guess I'll bitch and moan here instead. Bad got kicked out of nursery school. I'm miserable.

Here's the thing. The nursery school is wonderful. It's right across the street, and it's owned and run by a couple that are (were?) our friends. They had a baby at the end of August and we were thrilled for them. They'd hired a wonderful teacher to cover the maternity leave, but because they live above the school we knew they'd be around a lot, and it really put our minds at ease.

We're idiots that way.

Bad's first day was great. They were amazed at his colouring - hey, I'm his mom, he comes by his talent naturally! Ha! They were all, "He did GREAT! We have no worries about him." But then it started to go downhill. He started crying for me, and they had a hard time engaging him. The thing was, as soon as I picked him up he was cheerful, and he'd talk happily about school and his friends. When the Princess was having a hard time at her first daycare, that distress carried over into her behaviour and disposition in the evenings and weekends. With Bad there was none of that, I wasn't really worried about him, because when he was with me he was his usual happy self.

Then one day they called me to pick him up. At 10:00. After barely 45 minutes of school. We brainstormed ideas. (Well, I brainstormed ideas and typed them up into a very polite letter.) We switched him from full days to half days to help him transition. And then. Yesterday. I dropped Bad off in his class and as I was leaving, one of the couple, let's call him Dick, pulled me into the kitchen and said, and I quote, "This is it. If he doesn't snap out of this after Friday that's it. We can not tolerate him any more." Excuse me?

You can't tolerate my child? I'm not saying he's perfect - his nickname isn't Bad for no reason....he's stubborn and willful and wild, but he's also smart and funny and talented and affectionate and wonderful. And it's not like he was hitting or biting the other children - he was crying for his mommy. He's TWO.

So. I've been crying for 36 hours. I'm angry and sad and my feelings are hurt. I'm defensive and confused. And really? There's nothing I can do. I can't rant and rave at these people, they live right across the street and I have to pass their house twice a day taking the Princess to school. Unless I take a ridiculously long detour, I pass their house going to the grocery store, the coffee shop, and the post office. Plus - I like them. I get that they're tired and sleep-deprived with a newborn, and I'm sure I'd get sick of listening to someone's child cry all day too - but here's the thing. I don't run a NURSERY SCHOOL. I don't get paid to do that. They do.

And make no mistake. They are the ones that failed Bad - not the other way around. And they are the ones that will ultimately lose out. But in the meantime? This is crappy, and I kind of hope their baby is colicky and cries for the next 3 months straight.

Underwear.

He's not completely there, but wow does he want to be.

Will the Bathroom Humour never end?

Gah! It's been 2 months since I've posted. Life has been crazy, happy, sad, full. I don't know if I'll ever catch up, but if anyone is still interested in our adventures, my 2-year old has an imaginary friend named POOP. Fifty times a day I have to listen to a story that begins, "My best friend POOP...." and ends with him slapping his forehead with the heel of his hand and laughing like he's just told the best joke EVER. Hubs laughs right along, but then he's still telling the same jokes and using the same lines as when we met 12 years ago. I'm doomed.

Garbage Picker

Our municipality is having a 'large item pick-up' this week, and in preparation every third house has placed piles of old appliances, furniture, etc., by their curb. I know that we live in an age of consumerism, that we're excited by the new and the shiny, but I am appalled to see what people are just throwing out. If I were having a baby, I could easily have outfitted myself with a stroller, high chair, crib, change table, bouncy seats and ride-on toys yesterday. All in good condition, and barely needing a wipe down. If I were furnishing a house I could have picked up antique wood dressers, sofas, chairs, tables....obviously some were things were junk, but a lot of it just needed a lick of paint or a steam-clean. I thought we were having a recession, people?

I drove past all of these things, and then I saw a flash of pink metal. A bike. The girlie needs a new bike. I stopped and got out. The bike was too small, but right beside it there was a wagon. We've almost completely abandoned the stroller, but we've thought that a wagon would be great on day trips to the zoo and such; I just haven't wanted to spend the money. The wagon was in great shape except for one broken wheel. But it was a Little Tikes, and their phone number was right there! Surely I could just order a new one. I stuffed the wagon in my trunk, and took off home, eager to consult the oracle Google.

Let's just say this. Little Tikes can bite me. I won't be purchasing any more of their products if I can help it. They do have a parts department, but it's a joke. They don't want you to fix their products...they want you to dump the massive plastic carcasses in a landfill and buy a new one. I was so disappointed, but Bad was convinced that even if Mommy had failed him, Daddy could fix it. Daddy can fix anything. I told Hubs all about my experiences with the Little Tikes website and "help" line over dinner. "There were a couple other wagons around with missing parts, but they weren't the same kind....I can't believe that you can't even order a wheel from these people!" I lamented.

"Go get the other wagons. The kids and I will meet you in the backyard."

So I went back out garbage picking and my resourceful husband built us a Frankenstein wagon with a Little Tikes body and Step 2 front wheels. I hosed it off and gave it a quick scrub and the kids hauled it to the front for a test drive. It works great, and as Hubs and I sat on the front steps watching our little ones running and laughing, giving each other rides up and down the street, I counted another one of my blessings. I have a talented husband who can fix anything, and he loves me for being a cheap-ass garbage picker. Does it get any better than that?

I'm in love with my boy....

How could I not be? Here are just a few of the giggles he's given me this week.

*****

Bad: "GRRrrrrr....GRRrrrrr"
Me: "What's wrong baby?"
Bad: "My superpowers make me mad!"

*****

Bad (picking up a naked doll and dancing her across the windowsill) "Oh hi Barbie! I have boobies too!"

*****

At breakfast the other day, after being admonished to not call everyone 'poopy-heads'

Bad: Poop on potty, Mommy.
Me: That's right.
Bad: And poop on toilet. Never poop on girls.

I think that's advice everyone should live by.

More Happy

It's been such a busy week that I'm almost glad it's over. It was pretty wonderful though. Ballet is finished for the year, and the Princess' recital was very sweet. My MIL came with us, and spent the night, and I managed to make homemade pizza and cupcakes for dinner since her birthday was the next day. (I also had to change sheets, wash the floor, and pick up wine - she doesn't drink, but Hubs and I find her hard to take without alcohol.)

Also the next day was the Princess' class trip to Puck's Farm. I dropped Bad off for an extra day at the sitter so that I could go along. Farms aren't really my thing, (My dad constantly shakes his head at my squeamish, girlie ways. "I can't believe you grew up on a farm!" he moans) but I'm glad I went.



The Princess rides a pony!



The farm I grew up on didn't have kiddie rides!



The Princess milks a cow! Guess which mommy DIDN'T want a turn. After years of nursing I just felt too much empathy for poor Bessie.

The best bit was that the Princess wanted me with her. She walked beside me and held my hand. She made sure to sit with me for lunch. Some of the other kids were already acting 'too cool' to hang out with their mothers. I'm so glad I made the effort to go on a trip while she still loves me best.

Happy Weekend Everyone!