Hair-brained

I am not a complete girlie-girl. I like clothes and make-up, but I'm willing to leave the house wearing sweats with a bare face when pressed for time. I've recently realized, however, that in the past year or so I've let myself go. I was sitting in the bath on the weekend and noticed one of my hairs on the edge of the tub. I picked it up to throw it out, and then took a closer look. The top half of the hair was dark, and only the bottom was my familiar blonde! I counted back on my fingers - it had been almost 12 months since I'd last had highlights or a cut! My self-image is incredibly intertwined with the state of my hair. I don't mean that I'm one of those women who spends hours styling and straightening their hair each morning, but despite numerous experiments with cuts and dye over the years, I always come back to the same look. I have long, blonde, curly hair. It has darkened somewhat over the years, hence the need for highlights, but is still firmly in the blonde camp. I don't necessarily look bad with a different colour or cut, I just don't think that I look like me.

Hubs and I had the most fun wedding. Ever. Seriously - ask anyone there. We had a big white tent put up in our backyard. We hired a fabulous dj and turned the stone patio Hubs had just put in into a dance floor. We spent most of our money on booze (the bartender from Hubs' rugby pub volunteered to tend bar for free, of course he ended up taking home one of my single friends, arguably the hottest girl at the wedding, so he made out alright) and the most fabulous caterer. We had the perfect August day, and all our guests came casual and relaxed. The minister was almost 2 hours late (we inadvertantly scheduled our wedding for the same weekend as Taste of the Danforth, despite living right around the corner) but it didn't matter. We opened the bar, the caterers brought out delicious hors d'oeurves, and the dj played some tunes. It was almost a shame to interrupt the party for the ceremony.

But here's the thing. You will never see a photo of our wedding. We didn't hire a professional photographer, but we have hundreds and hundreds of shots taken by our guests. Hubs regrets not hiring a professional, and although I nod my head along with him, I am secretly thrilled that we didn't. I hate all of the wedding photos. I had terrible hair. At the time of our wedding I was growing out a really short haircut, and some red hair dye. My hairdresser tried to make it blonde for me, and it helped, but it still wasn't right. In retrospect, I should have put the wedding off for a year until my hair was right. Still, best party ever.

I made it to my hairdresser on Tuesday. She had a good laugh at the state of my coiffure, and my state of panic, but she made me a blonde bombshell once again. Gentlemen may not prefer blondes, and blondes may not really have more fun, but I prefer ME blonde, and I fully expect to have a lot more fun now that my hair is as it should be once again.

Florence Nightingale

Yesterday morning.....

Me (muttering to myself): Ugh. Hubs gave me his cold. I think I'm going to throw up.

Princess: Oh poor mommy! Once when I was sick you made me a special bed on the sofa and you gave me a bowl and I put my throw-up in that! So it's okay mommy, I'll take care of you! What colour bowl do you want to put your throw-up in?

As it turns out, I wasn't sick, but I'm awfully lucky to have such a good and willing nurse.

*********************************************************
I'm down another 2 lbs, for a total of 10. Good thing too, because the Princess spent an hour and a half trying on all of her bathing suits and summer clothes yesterday, so she could decide what to pack for 'Flor-da'. (We're not going until April) I'm going to need to go shopping for something fabulous just to be seen with her!

Badness loves herself a sale!

If any of you have kids and have a Children's Place near you, they're having a huge sale. I got jeans for the Princess (with the adjustable waist) for $3 a pair. And a winter coat for Bad for next winter, and fleece jammies for me that match the kids Christmas ones for $9.99. Lots of stuff for 99 cents, and 50% off their sale prices on all kinds of things. Go. Go now.

Muffin top

I promised this muffin recipe to Anna, and decided to post it here in case any one else needs something yummy and healthy to keep on hand to feed themselves....and any greedy little snack swiping children they might have lurking about.

It started as a recipe in the LoonySpoons cookbook, but I found it had a lot of annoying ingredients and dirtied too many dishes so I've changed it. A lot. It's even better now. The original recipe was for 12 large muffins, but I make 18 - 24 with the same amount of batter. They're the perfect size for little kids and mommies trying to eat well, and daddies can always have two. If you make 18, and don't add any extras, each muffin has 89 cal (or 2 points), I also figured out the fat and fibre for you, but I've lost the piece of paper.

1 1/4 c rolled oats
1 1/2 c milk or water
1 1/2 c flour (wholewheat for preference, but all-purpose is fine)
1/4 c wheat germ (optional)
1 c unpacked brown sugar
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 egg
1/2 c unsweetened applesauce
1 tsp vanilla

Optional: 1 c extras - chocolate chips, unsweetened coconut, chopped nuts, dried fruit, or a combination

Preheat oven to 325 F

Pour milk or water over oats in a medium bowl (if you're using quick cook oats, cold liquid is fine. If you're using the large flake kind, heat the liquid up in the microwave for a minute or two first)

In a large bowl combine flour, wheat germ, sugar, baking powder and soda, salt, and cinnamon.

Whisk egg, vanilla and applesauce and add to oat mixture. Stir.

Add oat mixture to the dry ingredients and stir just to combine. Stir in extras if using.

Line muffin tins with paper cups or spray with non-stick spray. Divide batter among cups. Bake for 25 min, or until cake tester comes out clean.

**********

The plain ones look a little small and sad, but they don't taste that way. They're moist and a little sweet. People not trying to lose weight like them buttered, with cheese, or the Princess's favourite - spread with Nutella.

A Girl and her Dog....

Yesterday some of you thanked me for reminding you not to get a dog. I feel a little guilty. I can't deny that it can be a huge pain, Sally has cost us big time in both time and money - but she was our first baby. We got her from a shelter on the Friday before Thanksgiving, 2 months after we were married. She was 9 weeks old. Her entire litter had been abandoned, and she was the last puppy adopted. We weren't the first to adopt her, but the first family returned her because their son was allergic. We brought her home and she did nothing but sit in my lap for days. She wouldn't even respond to a cookie or ball. Hubs worried that she was too placid. Um....no.

The dog is a runner. A jumper. A world-class chewer. I won't bother to inventory the household items she destroyed in the early days before we crated her. (Always and only when we left her alone...she had a massive case of separation anxiety that lasted almost 5 years.) Suffice it to say that the list includes a sofa and a fire extinguisher.

The Princess was born when Sally was 2 years old. We weren't sure what behaviour to expect from our pooch, but any jealousy she may have felt was overruled by her immense joy at having me home every day on maternity leave. She soon became extremely protective of 'her' baby, and would run to me and bark whenever the Princess cried, and then back to her station at the side of the crib.

Do they look guilty to you too?

The love was mutual. The Princess's first word was 'dog'. And then 'Oh! dog'. And then 'Sal'. She finally deigned to learn 'mom' and 'dad' sometime after that. In the mornings, when the Princess woke up, she would look around the room and call "Dog! Dog!" If I said "Sally's in the other room honey," my girl would start to cry. I'd call "Sally!" and the minute we heard the jangle of Sally's tags the Princess would laugh and clap.

Puppy Love

Just after we'd moved to our new house, when Sally was 3 and the Princess was 1, we dropped Sally off at the beauty salon for the morning. When we got home I put away our coats and looked around for the Princess. She was sitting in Sally's crate, tears running down her cheeks, crying, "Oh dog....oh dog.....oh dog." I had to laugh at those confused little tears.

Hallowe'en '04 - A sheep and a wolf in sheep's clothing

Our dog is good with kids, and has the patience of a saint. When the Princess was about 16 months old she dropped her cookie on the floor and Sally ate it. The Princess was furious. I still see this scene in slow motion. She stood up and grabbed both sides of Sally's mouth and pulled them outwards. She put her nose to Sally's and screamed. And screamed. I was sure she was going to be bitten and I raced across the room to them. Sally just waited until the baby let go, shook her head, and left the room. She hasn't taken food from her since. So yes. The dog is a pain in the ass. But she's our pain in the ass. I can't believe she's 6 already.

Road Trip

We took the kiddies and the dog and went to visit my parents for the weekend. I love going home. Mostly, I just love my mom and dad, but there a bunch of practical reasons I love it there too:

1. I have someone to talk to when Hubs is reading the paper or taking a nap.

2. I always get to pee by myself. My mom will always hold the kids, and unlike Hubs, she never lets them come and get me from the bathroom.

3. My parents are great cooks. They always have yummy food in the house, and if they're out of something my mom is happy to go to the grocery store 3 times in one day.

4. I have time to read.

5. There are 2 extra people to chase Bad and rescue him from danger.

Sigh. I wish they lived closer.

It was a lovely weekend, except for the drive home. Somehow, even though it was discussed, the Princess didn't go pee before leaving my parents. We were barely 1/2 an hour from my parents house when the pee-pee dance started. We made it to a Timmy's just off the highway, but stopping made the dog wake up and start howling, which made Bad wake up and start howling.

We got back on the 401 (at that point a 6-lane highway) and the idiot dog jumped over the backseat and onto the Princess. Hubs pulled over, wrestled Sally into the back, and tied her leash to the seat. We'd barely gone 100m when she jumped into the backseat again - but this time she was tied up so she was strangling herself and thrashing to get free. Everyone was howling. Hubs pulled over again, got the dog in the back again, and I crawled into the backseat between the car seats so I could keep the dog off the kids. I had to turn around and push her down 5 times before we'd even got started again.

We'd gone about 200 m when Hubs says "Where are my glasses?" He pulled over again, searched the console and his pockets and hit the dash in frustration. "I heard a crunch when we pulled away the second time. I must've run over my own damn glasses!" I was almost ready to let the dog take her chances in traffic, but Hubs has a huge soft spot for our stupid canine. "I don't know what got into her...she's never done that before. Bad was crying, she must've wanted to help him...that's the only thing I can think of...." You're sweet Hubs. But delusional.

Halfway home we stopped at a friend's to meet their new baby girl. (I love me some other people's babies!) The Princess and Sally both got tired out running around with their friends, and slept the rest of the way home, for which Hubs and I are eternally grateful. We must have missed the weather report because it was sunny when we stopped, but snow squalls when we left again. Luckily our friends called us 10 minutes after we'd left to warn us that the highway we would usually take home was closed due to a massive 100 car pile-up. We had to take back roads, but at least we weren't stuck sitting for hours in traffic with no options.

Hubs is a very calm driver in snow conditions but ever since having babies I've become a nervous wreck. It irritates him when I'm jumpy but I just can't help myself. I was sooo glad to see our dear house. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. If only it were that easy.

Oh - and the Monday 'Fatness Jones' update - I lost 2 more lbs this week, for a total of 8. Yay me!

The Universe is having a laugh at my expense.....

Remember my saga with the passport photos? I got the applications filled in and signed by a guarantor, and took them to the passport office today. The government rejected the boy's passport photo. Apparently the diameter of his face was almost 1/16th of an inch smaller than they require. I know! How could I have missed such a glaring fault?

I took him back to the photo place and every time I sat him on the stool in front of the camera he started to cry. They finally got a photo, but when they printed it the outline of his head was blue. They tried to convince me that it'd be fine, but I've heard that before. I made them take it again, and bribed Bad not to cry with a Kit-Kat. Blue halo again. The photographer had no clue what was causing it (actually, the photographer had no clue. Period.) but assured me that it would be fine. I have serious doubts about this, and told her that if this photo is rejected I'll be getting it taken elsewhere and will expect a full refund.

I went back to the passport office. I'm going to be getting photos taken elsewhere and expecting a full refund.

After we got home I noticed that Bad is cutting 4 molars today. Good times.