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February 12, 2008

Life is a highway...

Dec_boat_1_4 I’ve been MIA with the flu for the past couple of days. I blame Winter. My patience with Winter this year has reached its limits. I am sick of turtlenecks, sick of wet socks and freezing fingertips, sick of runny noses, dark mornings, toque head, and pleading with Mads to stop launching her little mittens over the side of the stroller. Winter is never my favourite season, but this year it seems to be dragging on endlessly. I would sell my first born (okay, not quite) for some blue skies and sunshine.

On Friday, before I fell to my deathbed, we set off on the great road trip, our first ever with Maddie. It actually wasn’t all that long – 3 hours. But still, I was nervous. Because we are such wise and seasoned parents we planned the drive to coincide with naptime. Unfortunately she must not have clued in to our genius because she chose not to nap. Period. Instead it was 3 hours of this conversation, set on repeat:

Mads: “Mommy?”
Fernando: “Mommy’s driving, Maddie. Tell Daddy.”
Mads: “Mommy! Mommy!”
Fernando: “Mommy’s driving, Mommy can’t look.”
Mads: “Mommy? MOMMY?? Mommmeeeee!” (lip quivering, fake crying setting in)
Fernando: “Maddie…”
Me: “Yes, Mads, what is it?”
Mads: “Car!”

Every once in a while she would switch it up, substituting “car” for say, “bird” or “sky.” But you get the picture. It was constant. There was very little whining and crying, hallelujah. But the girl really needs to work on her conversation skills. In the meantime, I will be checking the flyers for a sale on portable dvd players. Yes, the ones I said I would never buy back when I worried too much TV might stunt my child’s development. Before I employed Maddie’s bff TV Dora as a full-time sitter.

The weekend itself was great, Mads proved to be a wonderful little traveller. Well, minus one incident where she vomited all over the floor at Nordstrom’s. I didn’t think their sales were all that great either, but I have to say, barfing was a bit of an overreaction. She seemed pretty shocked by it, poor girl. But then, as she stood wailing and drooling in the middle of the garden aisle she spotted a pink bike across the way. Her puffy little eyes lit up and she ran over, leaving a trail of slobber behind her. “Bike! Bike! Oh! Yeah!”

If only we could all recover so quickly from life’s little indignities.

Speaking of which, I’m off to blow my nose, down some Advil, and complain loudly about how miserable I feel.

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February 12, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

February 08, 2008

Today's time-out...

Well, we're off on our first road trip. It's only a couple of hours, but of course that has the potential to seem like an eternity with a toddler in the back seat. Wish us luck!

Here's a healthy dose of gossip for the weekend...

February 8, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 07, 2008

A bad hair day

I didn’t realize I took such joy in potty humour, but your stories of your trials with public pooping had me laughing. I can always count on my fellow mommies to put things in perspective for me.

So, I have decided that I hate my hair. It needs to go. It’s long and limp and does absolutely nothing to make my ass look smaller, which is of course the overall goal on the fashion and grooming front. So I think I’m going to chop it all off, and then spend the next 6 months passionately regretting that decision and contemplating the use of horse mane ‘n tail shampoo to make it grow back.

Januarysmiles5_3 Maddie’s hair trauma also continues. I suppose we’ve made some progress – the combover is gone, the mullet has been chopped off. So now she’s left with a close cropped helmet of angry and uncooperative hair. Not too long ago at her playgroup some cruel four-year-old stood staring at her for a few seconds before finally asking, “What happened to your hair?” Is it too awful to admit that a voice inside me shouted, “Oh yeah? Well, what happened to your face?” Don’t answer that. It is, I know.

So I am afraid I have cursed the poor girl. She has Fernando’s ears and my eyes, Fernando’s appetite and my grace (okay, or lack thereof), but somewhere along the way there was a cataclysmic clash of both of our hair genes. I’m still trying to decide what to do about it. Keep it short and endure strangers’ kindly telling me what a handsome boy I have for the next five years (despite the head-to-toe pink and ever present hair bows)? Or struggle through a strangly (I think I just made that word up) and awkward growth to see if something manageable comes of it? Any suggestions?

Ah well, if this is today's most pressing parenting problem, I guess we’re doing okay.

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February 7, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

February 06, 2008

Today's time-out...

This is the conversation I overheard the other night between Maddie and her bff TV Dora:

TV Dora: "Do you know what colour this ball is?"
Mads: "Boo" (Maddie-speak for "Blue")
TV Dora: "Red! That's right! What about this ball? What colour is it?"
Mads: "Boo"
TV Dora: "It's a green ball, good job! What colour is this ball?"
Mads: "Boo"
TV Dora: "Yellow! You're right. What color is this one?"
Mads: "Boo?"
TV Dora: "Yes! It's a blue ball!"
Mads: "Yay!"

Put down the laundry, it's time for today's gossip break...

February 6, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

February 04, 2008

It doesn't get much more real than this

Baby_on_board_2Have you seen the ads for the upcoming premiere of “The Baby Borrowers?” According to NBC.com, the reality show is a “riveting social experiment” that puts teenagers on the fast track to parenthood. High school couples are entrusted with the care of a baby, then progress to a toddler, a “tween” (how I hate that term), a teenager, and finally they are “are graced with the opportunity to care for a senior citizen.” (I’m trying hard not to laugh.) So basically it’s the same old high school sex ed lesson, only they’re substituting a real baby for the egg or sack of flour and calling it a reality show. And of course I’ll be watching.

If the point of this experiment is to demonstrate to these kids the not-so-glamorous side of parenting, they could have saved themselves the time and money and just sent them out with us this weekend. I was knee-deep in not-so-glamorous, and would have been only too happy to share the joys of it.

There are those special mommy moments that you know, as you are right in the middle of them, you will never forget. No matter how hard you may try. So on Saturday morning we were at the grocery store and I volunteered to handle the diaper change. The washroom is the size of an office cubicle, with the change table wedged right between the sinks and the door. Not the best place to deal with what turned out to be a gravity-defying explosion of poop. Up the back, behind the knees, everywhere in between.

So there were are, Mads standing naked singing “pee pee! pee pee!,” pulling out paper towels one by one from the dispenser above her and watching as they float down onto a pile on the sticky floor. Me with poop on my hands, sponging her down with a roll of toilet paper because I’d already used up the entire package of wipes. The tiny, unventilated space filled with that particular odor of baby doo doo. Of course in the midst of this the entire shopping public got hit with the urge to use the washroom and so are lined up out the door looking mildly horrified and gasping for what little fresh air is left. It was so bad I had to throw away her clothes. Sure, I could have packed them up to wash at home, but there are limits to my frugality. Fortunately I had a spare shirt tucked away. Unfortunately it was a tank top, and we’re in the midst of a cold February. Oh well.

When I emerged shell-shocked and stinky 20 minutes later, Fernando thought the whole thing was a riot and helpfully pointed out that when you have to throw away your outfit after a trip to the bathroom at least you know that your system is good and clear.

There you go, NBC, there’s your “emotional, dramatic journey” through motherhood. And all in under half an hour!

The show premieres on Feb 18 at 8pm, in case you want to set your DVRs. I can’t be the only one hooked on bad reality TV.

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February 4, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack

February 02, 2008

Today's time-out...

No mommy gossip today, just a laugh.

Courtesy of YouTube, who I love. And Sarah Silverman, who I don't. But she is funny here. Keep watching until you get to the rap segment - priceless! Matt Damon's got moves!

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February 2, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

My night at the movies

About a month ago I told Fernando I really, reeaaaally wanted to go see Juno. Last night we went. Remember when going to a movie didn't take a month's preparation? Ah, those were good times. These are good times, too, just in a different way.

Janenglbay10_2 But back to Juno. If you haven't seen it, do. I would definitely recommend it. To be honest, my recommendation is not the best one to go on. I'm forever bringing home obscure movies based solely on the fact that they were nominated for Best Cinematography or Brightest Lighting or Outstanding On-Set Catering at the Wichita Film Festival. More often than not they're disastrous. But even Fernando liked Juno, so if you don't want to take my word for it, you can take his. And if you don't trust him either (after all, you barely know the guy), then take the advice of 93% of professional filmgoers. See? We all agree. It's really sweet, and quirky in a way that isn't just irritating. Like when Juno breaks the news of her pregnancy to her parents and tells them, "If it is any consolation I have heartburn that is radiating in my knee caps and I haven't taken a dump since like Wednesday... morning." Ah, the luxury of regular bowel movements.

I was going somewhere with this before I got sidetracked with my film review. We were waiting in line for our $12 stale popcorn when I heard the oh-so-familiar wail of a tired baby. For a second I thought Mads had stowed away in my purse for date night. But it turned out to be a baby in line behind us, screaming himself hoarse as his mother and her friend jiggled him about. At 10pm. At the movies. Now of course I'm the last to judge - well, maybe not the last but definitely not the first - but somehow I doubt this kid demanded to catch the late show of Charlie Wilson's War. Of course I said nothing at the time, but here, hidden behind my metal door and internet anonymity I'm just going to put it out there: Go home already. Find a sitter. Throw in The Wiggles.

10pm movies, 30 minute showers, 28 inch waistlines - these are our parental sacrifices.

Or maybe I'm just one more judgemental mom.

(ps - You may notice I've dropped the daily counter from the title of today's post. When I started the blog Mads was 5 months old and every day that passed meant we were on our way to a better place. A happy place where she and I didn't sit around sobbing and feeling sorry for ourselves all the time. Now we're there! And to be honest, it was getting hard to keep track!)

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February 2, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

February 01, 2008

Today's time-out...

Here's your Friday gossip... happy weekend!

(Just a warning: Gorgeous, radiant pregnant women without a hint of bloat ahead. They probably don't have stretch marks either. Bitches!)

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February 1, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

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"Having a two-year-old is like having a blender that you don't have the top for." ~Jerry Seinfeld.

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