Thursday Blog Hop

Fab Friends Thursday Blog Hop
(For the life of me I can't get this button to show up, only the link. Help! How do I do that?)


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Tangled

Last night we had a family night. We all sat down together and watched Disney's new movie "Tangled."

We bought some special movie snacks, watched the movie and just enjoyed doing something fun together. I especially enjoyed watching my 5 year old daughter react to to the movie. Seeing the wonder and excitement on her face as this magical movie unfolded. It reminded me of when I was about 6 or 7 and The Little Mermaid came out.

I begged and begged my mom to buy it. She relented and I was so excited that when we got home from the store I immediately put the movie in. I watched it, then rewound it (it was a VHS of course), watched it again, rewound it again, and then watched it again. I loved it, and The Little Mermaid remains one of my favourite Disney movies to this day.

Toddler Monster

My son has a bag of foam blocks that he received for Christmas.  He has become more interested in them in the last week or so and decided that it is super fun to dump them all over the floor. My daughter loves to build towers and castles out of the blocks. But then, along comes the toddler monster! He roars and swings his arms, destroying the beautiful princess castle/dinosaur home.

"MOM!" 'E' yells. "'G' knocked over my tower!"

'G' responds by laughing or screaming and kicking the remaining blocks that haven't been scattered across the room.

After some more yelling and crying from the kids, I make the decision to put the blocks away. Apparently sharing was not an option either kid was willing to take. Finally the room is all nice and clean, the blocks put nicely away and the kids are distracted by some other toy. Good. I can get back to whatever I was doing before.

Five minutes later I walk into "G's" room. It looks as if a volcano has errupted. A volcano that spews multi-coloured foam blocks. They are everywhere; on the floor, in his crib, underneath the floor rug, in the closet, tucked underneath clothes. How did a 22 month old manage to get that many blocks in so many places so quickly? And he is nowhere to be seen. The toddler monster has struck again.

At least the blocks were contained in his room this time.

I stare at the mess and think maybe I should clean this up. Oh, but what's the use? They'll just be on the floor again in a few minutes.

I love Jane Austen

I absolutley love Jane Austen. I get shivers when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy finally put aside their pride and prejudices and love eachother whole-heartedly. There's a little thrill when Emma realizes that Mr. Knightley loves her, or when Elinor realizes Mr. Ferras is not married and is free to love her openly. I love the romance, the humour, the suspense of "will it work out", even though I know it always will. And then there is the perfect ending. The girl gets the boy she loves, they marry and live happily ever after. Really it's every girls dream. You may not admit it, but yes, you dreamed of finding the perfect man and living happily ever after! I sure did. No wonder the Disney princesses are so popular. They also get their happily ever after.

I could sit down and watch BBC's version of Pride and Prejudice over and over again. I love finding other women who share my passion for Miss Austen and then having a P&P party. My husband thinks I'm silly. "Why do you like these stories?" he says. "They are all the same. It's just about girls who want to get married." True, but it's not what they want, it's how they get there. I'm not going to apologize for my love of a beautiful romantic story. It makes me feel so happy inside, and when I want some cheering up I put in an Austen movie, and I always feel better.

Engrossing Fiction

I love to read. I read all kinds of books, but reading novels is an escape for me. Delving into another world, another time, another person's life (albeit fictional) is such rewarding 'me' time.

When I find an especially intruiging story I'm afraid that my husband and children suffer a little. I become involved in the story and don't want to put it down. I am secretly annoyed at meal times when I have to put my book away and make an effort at conversation with my husband, or help my children with their meal. Things get ignored like housework, dishes, and meal preparation. The kids run wild or watch tv, and all along I am engrossed in a fascinating tale. For example, this morning, I turned on the tv for my kids and returned to my room fully engrossed in "North and South," by Elizabeth Gaskell. I just had to finish it! I hadn't had a book like that since the third enstallment of the Hunger Games trilogy came out ("Mockingjay" by Suzanne Collins).

Now my kids feel fully ignored, and I am reaping the consequences: grumpiness and a messy house. Now I need to find a new novel to engross me. Any suggestions? What new novel will make me ignore my motherly duties?

If you are looking for some good reviews on interesting new books, check out this website:
The Well-Read Wife. It's a lot of fun. I might even check out the new Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dreadfully Ever After. I so enjoyed the first one.

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Sick Kids

I have two sick kids. Not fun at all. My 5 year old daughter "E" started out with a scary fever that made her have some frightening waking dreams (possibly hallucinations? I can't tell) that made me very concerned. I decided to take her in to the doctor even though we are not at home right now. My 22 month old son "G" started coughing the same day as the appointment so I decided to bring him in as well. Turns out, they both have strep throat, and I have two cranky kids. Their crankiness is exacerbated by being away from home and "G" losing his soother somewhere in the house. Normally, not having a soother wouldn't bother "G" too much, he's pretty much weaned from it, but his coughing woke him up in the middle of the night and he realized his soother wasn't in his bed. He cried for an hour. Luckily after a full 24 hours of searching I finally found it and my baby is soothed.

I feel so compassionate for these little kids with their hot foreheads, wracking coughs, headaches, and sore throats that I just want to hold them and kiss them until they are all better. So now I have hardly any sleep, snot, spit, and other sickness on me I will be surprised if sick kids don't make a sick parent.

New Baby Smell

Babies smell so good. They have a distinct "newness" smell to them, like a car does, only babies smell way better than new cars. I'm not talking about the "distinct" smell of a poopy diaper, but the everyday yummy smell of a newborn that makes you want to shove your nose on top of their fuzzy little head and breathe deeply.

I was holding my 3 month old nephew today and breathing in his new scent. I love it. I bet they smell good on purpose, so Moms want to hold their babies close and want to keep them near. It's also why babies are so darn cute. We have to love them and take care of them. Just think, if babies were hideous and smelled disgusting all the time, parents wouldn't want to take care of them. So I guess it's good that babies smell so good. I certainly don'y mind.

Car Trip Drama

I have been travelling for the past two days with the kids in the car. It went fairly well, "G" was sick of his car seat by the end though. I can't really blame him, if I was strapped in a car seat for two days, I would be sick of it too.

It was pretty uneventful until we were about 10 minutes from our destination. "E" started complaining of a sore tummy. She was groaning loudly and it sounded kind of fake and pretty comical that I had to suppress my laughter. All of the sudden she shouted, "MOM! I'M GONNA PUKE!" I pulled over as quickly as I could (luckily we were on a side road and there was no traffic) and got out of the car. It was too late. She has puked all over her lap. It was the stinkiest, grosset puke ever, a nasty green/blue colour - and I'm sure you want to read all about it.

I had to strip her down by the side of the road, leaving her in her panties and jacket while I did my best to clean the mess in the car. I stuffed the dirty clothes in the trunk, strapped a screaming toddler back into his car seat and drove the last 10 minutes.

It was almost the perfect trip - meaning totally uneventful. But something, someone, somewhere, realized I had two children in the car, so I wasn't allowed the perfect trip. That realization came in the last minutes of my journey when I thought I was going to be able to sneak in uneventful. But alas, it was not so.The puking and screaming came anyway. Here you go, here's so drama. You're a mom, you can handle it.

On Camera Personalites

It's funny how my kids change in fronf of a camera. I just got a new digital HD video camera (the Canon Vixia HF M31... and I love it!). Normally my kids are wild and will show off for me, my husband or guests. But the moment I take out my video camera, one of two things happen, either they start saying, "Cheeeeeeese!" and then grabbing the camera to see themselves, or they get super shy and just stand there.

How can a five year old and a 22 month old develop their own on camera personalities so quickly? I've only had the camera for a week, but they instinctively know that their image will show up on the screen.

I guess I'll just have to sneak the camera out periodically to get them acting naturally. Or maybe if I have it out enough they'll get used to it and forget it is there. Any suggestions?

Sesame Street

I love Sesame Street. What a great show. My kids love it too. "G" especially loves Elmo and will shout out his name everytime he sees him. I remember my favourite characters when I was little was Cookie Monster, Super Grover, and Prairie Dawn. It's fun to watch my kids enjoy the same characters that I did when I was their age.

Everytime I hear the Beatles song "Let It Be," I think of the Sesame Street song, "Letter B" that the Beatles sang on the show. Those two songs are inseparably connected in my mind. Now my new favourite song on Sesame Street is sung by the comic Ricky Gervais. Take a look, it is hilarious!

Another of my favourite clips from Sesame Street is Cookie Monster's audition for Saturday Night Live.

Enjoy these with your kids, or by yourself! Great for anyone!
What is your all time favourite Sesame Street skit?

Recorder

Why, oh why did I ever buy my kids a recorder!?

Green

Today is St. Patrick's day, so naturally I was thinking about green. My husband is wearing green to work, and I dressed my kids in green, and I'll find something green (sadly I am still in my pajamas - but it is only 9am, that's what happens when you have to get a hubby and two kids ready in the morning).

Seeing all this green reminded me of my younger brother. When he was around 6 or 7 green was his absolute favourite colour. Not just any green, but frog green, or Ninja Turtle green. He was always pretending to be Michelangelo. He had this cotton outfit that was solid green that he loved to wear and do Ninja Turtle moves outside on the grass where he would be superbly camaflouged. I would like to see him do that now. Wouldn't that be hilarious to see a grown, married man (over 6 feet tall) dressed all in green doing the splits and ninja moves on the lawn and shouting "cowabunga!"?

I might even pay to see that.

I wonder why he doesn't wear all green anymore? But you know, it isn't easy being green.

Bald Eagle

Today driving home from out of town I saw a bald eagle. I was caught off guard to see the stately bird sitting on an 8 foot high snow bank on the side of the highway. I started to slow down and said to my daughter in the back seat, "Look quick! A bald eagle!"

We passed it and she didn't see it. I was very tempted to slow down and pull over, or even do a u-turn and go back and take some pictures with my phone. Then I thought that maybe I shouldn't pull over because there is high possibility of getting stuck on the side of the road. That snow just pulls you in, and then what would I do? I'd be stuck in the middle of farm country, in the snow, with the kids. So I decided to keep going. I felt like a bad mother depriving my very curious five year old of the opportunity to see the majestic bird. All this passed through my mind in a second.

Then "E" shouted, "I see it! I see it!" She had turned around and was looking out the back window. She was so happy that she saw the eagle. Then she said, "Mom, why is it bald?"

I didn't feel as bad as a mother then. At least she saw it from a distance.

Natural Mommy-Mechanism

I find as my kids get older, I have more desire to develop my homemaking skills, like making bread, sewing, quilting, and even canning. These are things that I wasn't really interested in before. Is this a built in mommy-mechanism, like pinching your children's bums? (see bum-pinching post) Do these desires just naturally grow in moms as they get older until she becomes like her mom and her grandma? Is it built into us like super strength when a mom saves her baby from underneath an overtunred car? Or is it a 'keeping up with the Jonses' mentality when you see a friend's or neighbour's crafty project and think, "Well, I could do that... maybe even better!"

Just this year I have made a quilt for my son, aprons for my daughter, started baking homemade bread on a regular basis, embroirdered squares for a quilt, made homemade cards, and developed other crafty or homemaking skills. I've thought to myself befrore, "I have no desire to can... ever." But I found myself the other day eating a friends wonderful canned peaches and thinking, "Maybe I could can some peaches this year." Where did that come from? Was it my stomach talking or a natural mommy-mechanism?

What do you think? Are homemaking skills (like baking bread, and sewing clothes for your kids) a natural desire for moms? Or do we do it because we feel like we have to?

Shaving

"G" cut himself shaving the other day. Wait, you ask, isn’t he a baby? Why yes he is. Let me explain. My husband, "A" was giving our son a bath before bedtime. "A" was sitting next to the tub watching and helping "G". He turned away for a moment to grab something. When he turned back "G" was rubbing the soap on his chin and holding my razor in his other hand. Before my husband could grab it, the razor made its way to my little baby’s chin and sliced through his delicate, hairless, skin leaving two small red lines. Now it must not have hurt very much, for I heard no screaming from the bathroom and he hasn’t been complaining about it. It’s actually kind of funny, a  toddler cutting himself shaving.

<sniff>

My baby’s all grown up!

Freckle

"G" has a big freckle on the back of his leg just below his calf. Every time I change his diaper I think he has a spot of poop on his leg. It’s just the right colour. Even though I know it’s not poop, there’s always a startling moment, a brief instant where my heart jumps and my brain calculates where else the poop might be, like all down his legs or on my hands. Then it registers. That’s not poop, it’s a freckle. This all happens in a fraction of a fraction of a millisecond. Every time! Why am I fooled by a freckle several times a day? So I remind myself that my son has a poop-like freckle and I will not be fooled next time around. No sir. And then next time I change his diaper, “Aww crap (literally)! Not again. Wait. It’s his freckle.”

Hiding

Little kids find the funniest hiding places. My daughter "E" loves to play hide-and-seek. She can fit into the tiniest places, that we don't even think to look there because it doesn't look like she should fit, like in a cupboard or on the bottom shelf in her closet. Playing hide-and-seek with her (and losing) reminded me of another time she hid.
When "E" was around 19 or 20 months old, one day I heard some muffled yelling coming from her bedroom. I went in to investigate, but I couldn't see her in there and everything looked normal. I heard her call out again - it was coming from the dresser. I pulled open the bottom drawer of her dresser and there she was laying down, all scrunched up in the drawer. She had emptied out the contents of the drawer, climbed in, layed down, and somehow closed the drawer on herself. I wish I had a picture, it was so funny.
What goes through a little toddler's mind to make them want to do that. "Hmmm... I wonder if I could fit in that drawer. No one will ever find me there!"
No wonder I never win at hide-and-seek.

Making Bread

My mom bought a new Bosch so she gave me her old one. Today I took it out for the first time to make some yummy homemade bread. I’ve never used a Bosch before and it came with no instructions (hand-me-downs rarely do), but I’ve seen my mother use it, and really it’s just a big mixer, what could be so hard?

I found a recipe for whole wheat bread and got to work. I put all the ingredients in the bowl and left it to mix for 8 minutes, following the recipe. I noticed that the Bosch was kind of shaking as it mixed, but it looked within reasonable shaking limits. I left the dough to mix and went about the kitchen doing other stuff. Suddenly I heard a huge crash. I turned around and there was the Bosch, unplugged, upside down, on the floor. I didn’t leave the mixer anywhere near the edge of the counter so it couldn’t have just fallen off.

Apparently, the mixer was shaking so hard, that it travelled all the way to the edge of the counter where it teetered and finally relinquishing to gravity it toppled to the floor. I picked it up and nothing looked broken, the dough looked all right so I plugged it back in and continued mixing (the eight minutes wasn’t up yet), but this time I turned the knob to speed 1 instead of speed 2. It wasn’t shaking so much then. How was I supposed to know that speed 2 would send the Bosch crashing to the floor? There were no instructions.

Annoying Sounds

Why does my daughter "E" make the most annoying sounds in the world? Her little five year old voice can be so grating and shrill sometimes. Earlier she was making some sound that was a mix of a growl, a screech, a pterodactyl and just plain crazy. I really don’t know what it was, but it was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard, a jackhammer, and a banshee scream all rolled into one.

“'E' can you please stop making that sound?” I said to her.

“What sound? This sound? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”

“What do you mean ‘what sound?’ Yes that sound. Please stop.”

“But I like this sound. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”

“STOP!”

“Fine,” she says with an amazing amount of attitude and she rolls her eyes to let me know that stopping that sound is a huge inconvenience for her.

Then my son 'G', seeing what fun 'E' was having yells, “RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEE!!” And it starts all over again.

Kitchen Floor

There’s always food on my kitchen floor. Bread crumbs, milk, gold fish crackers, dried up pieces of cucumber, you name it. No matter how many times I sweep, vacuum, or wash that floor, five minutes later there’s food on it. Again. I feel like I sweep a hundred times a day. I almost don’t want to even clean it anymore. One of the reasons I love wearing slippers (besides having always cold feet) is that when I step on crumbs, or spills on the floor, I don’t feel it as much.

My mom comes from a large family of 12 kids. I remember her saying, “Your dad was the first boy I brought home that didn’t mind having spaghetti on his socks.” I can’t imagine what my kitchen floor would look like if I had twelve kids. It’s bad enough with two. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I shouldn’t wear my slippers anymore, then I would have more incentive to keep the floor clean. No, my feet would be too cold.

Bum Pinching

When I was younger, if I was going up the stairs and my mom was behind me, she would pinch my bum. It wasn’t hard, but was playful. I have been forever scarred by it (I guess scarred is too strong a word, maybe remember painfully is more accurate). Now, as an adult, when I walk up the stairs and someone is behind me I have this dreadful feeling that they are going to pinch my bum. I feel the need to run as fast as I can up those stairs and cover my behind. To be honest, my mom probably only did it half a dozen times, at the most, but it always comes to mind when I am being followed up the stairs. It’s irrational and silly, I know, but that dreaded feeling of a little pinch is still there.

The other day I was walking up the stairs behind my 5 year old daughter. Without any thought of what I was doing, my hand reached out and pinched my daughter’s bum. It was like I had no control over my own limbs. 'E' squealed and ran up the stairs yelling, “Mom! Don’t pinch me!” The next time I was walking behind her on the stairs I had the most incredible urge to pinch her bum again! Where did this come from? Is pinching your children’s bums a built in mommy mechanism? Why would I want to do that? I had a horrible time resisting that urge to pinch her bum. I mustn’t scar her like I was scarred! But now I understand. My mom couldn’t help it. It was a built in reflex that really she had no control over.  Still, understanding does not make that terrifying feeling of “just about to be pinched”  disappear, for I still cover my bum when I walk up the stairs.

Peanut Butter

I find peanut butter everywhere. I find it wiped on the floor, smeared on the wall, plastered on the doorknobs and, of course, covering my son’s face, hands and clothes. "G" is 21 months old. He loves peanut butter sandwiches. He eats them almost every day. I don’t think I have ever bought more peanut butter in my life. The problem is that he is messy. He’s a messy, noisy, on-the-go boy. But he’s just so cute. Even though he has a peanut butter beard, I still can’t resist when he says, “Mama! Kiss!”  He puckers his lips and leans toward me, and I am won over by his big blue eyes, chubby cheeks and cute little lips. I let him kiss me. Now I have peanut butter on my face. It could be worse. It could be poop… and having poop on my face is not as totally unlikely as it seems. Come to think of it, I have had poop on my face. Peanut butter is much better.

The Purpose

These are my thoughts on kids, being a mother, life, and everything that comes with that.
I have 5 year old daughter "E" and a 21 month old son "G". They make me laugh, cry, yell, be super silly, and everything inbetween. I love being a mom. I love my children. They define me. I am mom.