...or you know what will happen...!

I say it all the time to my boys.

…or you know what will happen…!

What in the name of God is going to actually happen?

“Get your pj’s on now or you know what will happen” – Ice Age part two?

“Get your dirty clothes off the floor or you know what will happen” – the planets will collide?

“Finish your dinner now or you know what will happen” – aliens finally invade Earth?

“Get your teeth brushed now or you know what will happen” – they all fall out? Hardly.

“Get your sneakers away from the front door and into your room, or you know what will happen” – well that's obvious, isn't it...??

“Brush your hair or you know what will happen. You look homeless” – they go to school looking homeless. They’re boys, they don’t care.

“Pick your wet towel up off the hardwood floor and hang it up or you know what will happen” – Mom will pick it up eventually…score one for the kid(s).

“Turn the TV off now or you know what will happen” – your brain will eventually explode from Storage Wars marathon and guess who will have to clean it all up?

“Turn the computer off now or you know what will happen” – the above, if you’ve already survived 24 episodes of Storage Wars in row and your brain is still in its case.

“Stop picking your nose or you know what will happen” – uhm, your head will cave in??

“Stop making that face, or you know what will happen. If the wind changes, it will stay that way” – cool, wait until my friends see it… epic fail for Mom.

Parents, we need to come up with a new plan!

Admittance by Donation

Park & Tilford Garden's Christmas Lights

Or if you’re my family and myself, admittance-by-just-walking-right-on-in-without-donating-a-darn-thing-because-you-never-saw-the-stupid-sign that said “Admission by Donation”.

Of course I didn’t see the large sign that said “Donation” because I was too busy trying to be all purdy to the cute North Vancouver District Firemen who were manning the friggin donation box… keep my boys on a leash…ogling the firemen!

‘Scuze me but I didn’t see the box because it was placed behind four cute firemen and I was trying to figure out what they looked like underneath their getup!

So barrel-on-in we did because we had one mission (and apparently it was not to donate anything). We were going to play hide and seek, in the dark, in the gardens, surrounded by Christmas lights, me, the boys, my Mom and sister.

So play hide and seek we did, like we do every year. Two teams walking around the Christmas-light-decked-out-garden trying to spy on each other without getting into too much trouble or knocking too many people over.

All the while my Dad took pictures:

So upon leaving, for some reason I turned around for one last look at the firemen, and I noticed the “Admittance by Donation” sign.

Oh my God, we’re a bunch of criminals. I can only hope that this truck load of boys DOES doesn’t arrive at my house should I need them, and recognize me for the cheapskate I am.

An Apology

This is an apology post.

I messed up.

The other day I posted about coming home to a messy house and having to clean it up. I also posted about having to do housework and get the kids up and ready for school while hubby doesn't.

I crossed the line. Hubby is upset. This post is not an apology to hubby - I need to do that in person. This is an apology to anybody who knows him who read the last post. You know how great he is. I do too. We're all lucky to know him.

I never meant to cross any line. This post was supposed to be fun, but in stead of fun, it became selfish and hurtful to hubby. I never meant for that to happen.

I didn't write it in a huff or anything. I was laughing inside (in a loving way) while writing it.

I'm fairly new to this whole blogging thing and I think I let my imagination take over and spew into public reading. I got caught up in the writing part (I was never a good writer) and when I'm on a roll, I get excited about it.

I'm not sure how he found out about this post. It's not secret or anything, but that's irrelevant. I invite him to read my posts. I want him to be proud of me.

So in an effort to try to amend my idiotness, I just want you all to know how wonderful hubby really is and how happy I really am in my little world.

I have the best hubby ever. He's also the worlds best Dad (next to my own of course :D). He does so much to provide for our family and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm quite private in my posts - I don't name names. I want my blog to be fun - good and bad fun (if that makes sense) but not hurtful to anybody. I'm not that type of person.

In an effort to respect the fact that he's not really into social media and doesn't really want to be "out there", (I'm totally cool with that)  I'll leave it at that as far as the message about how great he is.

Sometimes in life you screw up. I guess that makes us human. It's what you do to learn from those mistakes that matter. I'm not perfect - far from it. This isn't the first screw up and it won't be the last.

Hubby I love you.

Paranoia is really stressful

Okay, there I admit it...I'm paranoid to the max.

Sometimes I wonder if perhaps I'm too paranoid. Is that possible? My motto is prevention when at all possible, because who wants to deal with the alternative if there is no prevention.

I keep my children on a pretty tight leash...literally. So much so that I sometimes wonder what the heck other people are thinking when they don't. I always have my kids in my sights (I've been known to walk backwards just to keep an eye on them).

Last week two unique things happened that had me wondering...

When I was walking along Vancouver's Coal Harbour, I was at a spot where there is a 10 or so foot drop from the ledge down to the rocks below (depending on tide height) - no barrier or wall AT ALL. A lady and man were walking with a stroller and their two (approx) year old girl walking, mom pushing the stroller. While they were arguing about something, the girl was walking TOO close to the ledge and they had no idea about it. One small slip and kid over board.

Uhm hello!! I was so tempted to do something, walking in front of the kid, interrupting the parents, anything because all of a sudden I could see in my mind a kid falling over the ledge, head smashing on the rocks below, or drowning....and next thing I know it's my kid's faces I'm seeing.

The other episode happened when I was walking home from work and involved a mother and her 8 (approx) year old daughter roller blading along the Stanley Park sea wall entrance on Georgia. The girl stopped to look at the Canada Geese and the mom kept on going. As I was walking - I slowed down - I kept looking back...mom is still going, girl is still looking, mom is getting farther away, girl is still looking, mom is getting to a busy intersection to cross...girl is still looking at geese...

HELLOO, do you know where your daughter is (in my mind she's being yanked into a car and abducted...and of course again the faces of my kids are in play).

I've always accused hubby of not paying attention to the boys when they are all walking. In Germany I deliberately held the boys back while hubby kept going in a busy area of Munster. And of course to prove my point, he finally turned around and didn't see us and started worrying. WHAT IF I WAS NOT THERE!?!?!?!?!?!

I see this all the time. It takes no time at all for your kid to be picked up and taken and lost in the crowds in the arms of a stranger never to be seen again. It kills me to think of this happening.

I know I'm a bit judgy at times and bad things happen to really good people. I hate that. Some things aren't preventable and you let your kids out into the big bad world and hope and pray for the best. But sometimes what I see is totally preventable - people just need to pay more attention.

Ya, I'm paranoid!

You wanna go where? Do you know how much liquid I've had?

Okay so here's a little pointer for you, brought from me to you because I care...

Don't go on a long hike right after you've guzzled two large mugs of coffee and eaten a pound of watermelon. Just sayin'.

And ESPECIALLY after you've birthed children and your bladder can no longer handle a simple sneeze without saying Hidee'ho!

We did the Lynn Loop today, which was nice and all, but I had to pee really bad during this entire hike of 6 KM, uphill, downhill, lunch break near the river (running water makes you want to pee more - why is that??).

I don't know what I'm doing here, but I can tell you this....I REALLY need to pee!



Campout and a very sore back

Tent set up in the backyard? Check!

"The sleeping gear" and stuffies in the tent? Check!

Kids all excited to campout in the backyard by themselves? Check!

...1/2 hour before getting in the tent for sleep, 8 year old says he's scared and doesn't want to campout anymore. Not even with his big brother there with him, the backdoor unlocked, a flashlight, and a phone if they want to call us in the house.

Hubby pissed because he set up the damn tent? Yup!

Mom to the rescue. "Want me to sleep in the tent with you?" Kids - YYYAAAAAYYYY!!!!!!!!

I like camping but I do it on top of a queen size blowup air mattress, not on top of patio lounge chair padded covers, no matter how puffy they are.

Mommy need help getting up and out of the tent the next morning because her back is KILLING her? You bet!

I'm too old for this!

*FYI, a million stuffies surrounding you all night does not a comfy sleep make when you're over the age of 13

The Piss Mom Off Chromosome

Yup, my 12 year old has it. This chromosome that suddenly sprouts pre-teen, is switched on and pretty much runs rampant and makes itself known in a big way.

The Piss Mom Off Chromosome, otherwise known as the "I'll keep my room a mess just to defy the old nag", as well as "if you tell me what do to I'm not going to do it".

Warning, this chromosome comes along with extra special add-ons like "go have a shower, your body is changing (ya stank)", and "can you please remove your shoes - preferably to a location miles from me", all followed by a resounding "NO!"

This chromosome dramatically changes a luvy, snugly little boy into a sarcastic, foul mouthed, defiantly other worldly, raised in a barn, comatose, genetically altered, Nintendo DSI attached man-child who, surely to GOD I never gave birth to.

It's almost like the terrible twos didn't leave, they just hibernated for a few years, then came back with a vengeance to crap all over my world.

And what's with this plowing through my fridge and food cupboards like a Tornado ripping through a town? Nothing but crumbs and dust on the floor in his wake.

I feel like murdering love my boy but good lord, REALLY?!?!? I've gone through the manual the doctor handed me at the hospital 12 years ago to try to troubleshoot this. I think the instructions are skewed. I wonder if I can find my receipt and make a return.

Okay fine, I'm kidding.

*The man-child is still living - I haven't murdered him...yet

**I've got an 8 year old heading in the same direction. Yay me. Humph!

***I was never like this, never...really ask my mom...

Camping Like A Griswold

Clarke, Ellen, Rusty and Audry almost...

As mentioned in Oh Sh$t we forgot the tent,  we went camping on this May long weekend. We didn't forget the tent this time. Hubby and the boys picked me up from work on Thursday afternoon so we could start our trip. And it went something like this...

Thursday:

Leave my desk at around 3:30 pm to wait at the front of the building.

Griswold mobile shows up towing the trailer behind it, trailer bouncing up and down making much noise (my god I hope someone I work with doesn't exit the building and see this noisy production).

Head to the border and pray no horrendous traffic or waits at the border.

Get though the border and make our way to Fred Meyer in Burlington to stock up on some food and bevies.

Rip open bevy while hubby drives (Smirnoff Ice Raspberry flavour drink, hic).

Get to Deception Pass Campground and set up with no issues.

Friday - Shopping Day

Head out early to hit as many stores as possible.

Hit Quicksilver at Seattle Premium Outlets and spend $2.69 total on a hoodie and tank top (damn I'm good).

Hit Target and Marshalls, same old, same old.

Hit Ross Dress for Less, try on a shoe on one foot.

Hobble up and down the shoe isle at Ross with one cute high heel on trying not to trip.

Trip on said shoe and fall forward flat on my face in the 7 1/2 isle with my kids watching (thank god nobody else).

Watch as kids run off laughing to tell their dad that mom fell on her face and is crying (no I'm not) and screaming about it loud enough for other shoppers to hear.

Pick myself up off the dirty floor and pretend nothing happened (crap my arms and wrists hurt from stopping my fall).

Buy the cute Ralph Lauren heels (hell yeah after that) and can't wait to wear them.

Pop open another bevy while hubby drives us back to campground.

Listen to the Canucks game on AM 1040 and boo at the loss.

Saturday:

Wake up from flat mattress that has acquired a hole (crap need to buy a new one) and rub sore back and neck.

Boil water on the propane stove for morning coffee and sit and enjoy coffee while reading my book (the part I love most).

Think about having a shower but it's too much of a pain because we don't have the right tokens that need to be purchased from the park entrance.

Put on a hat and deodorant (it'll do) and head out to Walmart in Oak Harbor to get a new mattress.

Get back from shopping and head to the beach to walk around and let the boys zoom around on their scooters.

Wonder at the fact that a wedding reception is taking place in the rental space of the concession stand (really??) and that the guests have to use the washrooms that the general public use too (they're disgusting). I'm sorry but I have to say it, TRASHY!!!!!!!

Wander by the wedding reception (there's a public path so we'll use it) and inwardly laugh at the fact that the bride and groom actually consciously chose this venue?!?!? There's goose poop everywhere.

Drink more booze and go to bed

Sunday:

Make our favourite camping breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and hash browns.

Proceed to dump one entire pack of bacon on the ground. Five second rule does not count in this case.

Applaud myself for buying two packs of bacon (phew).

Realize that I now stink of fried food, still have not showered...and put on my hat and more deodorant. It'll do.

Take the boys down to the climbing Douglas Fir tree to climb around on (inwardly hope nobody falls to the ground, breaks a limb and costs us massive bills in US$ medical).

Watch as "E" gets stuck up high and dad has to try to get him down.

Watch as "E" does it again (the kid won't learn).

"E" up the tree

"M" up the tree

Find a pair of prescription glasses in the beach parking lot and pocket them. In good shape and pretty close to my own prescription.

Wonder what the hell I'm doing (for only a moment) and walk back to the site with my new glasses thinking I've scored.

Listen to the Canucks game on AM 1040 and revel in the win.

Monday:

Pack everything back up again and try to fit it all in the car and the trailer.

Remember that I bought a cute pair of Ralph Lauren heels that I can't wait to wear (YESSSS!).

Get through the border no problem and make our way home (loving the feeling of getting back into Canada knowing that we've got two extra cases of beer, and an extra bottle of wine - we're such rebels).

Get home and do many loads of stinky laundry.

Have a much needed shower and smell good.

Ahhh, I love camping!

This is the school calling, your son is in the nurses station...

My eight year old, "M", was complaining of a sore leg this morning. He tends to get growing pains now and again and from what hubby tells me, they are painful. I wouldn't know, I never got them.

So this morning, one minute "M" is complaining about his leg:  "I can't put my socks on, it hurts". The next minute, bouncing all around the living room. Back and forth, yoyo'ing this "hurts/doesn't hurt" relationship with his leg.

He was able to make the walk down the hill to school with no complaints.

So all is good until about 11:30 this morning when the school office phones me at work to say they have "M" in the nurses station because his leg is bothering him and his teacher told him to have the office call his parents. For the love of God!

I can't help thinking that this was some rouse by the boy child to play hooky from school. But that type of attitude has never even entered his consciousness. He loves school and gets excellent grades. If either of the boys ever pulled a stunt like that, I'd kill them. The only hooky I ever played was hiding in the girls washroom to skip running around the track at school...but I went right back to gym class once the track running was completed.

Boy child got picked up by Gramma and spent the rest of the school day there.

So I get home and the little shyster is standing in front of the TV playing NHL slapshot and begging to go to his baseball game because his leg feels all better now. Uhm, no we called the coach to say you won't be there because you had to leave school early.

And that's when the mini tantrum began. "I DON'T WANT TO MISS A GAME,,waaaaa!"

I appreciate the love of baseball and not wanting to miss a game, that's totally awesome! But dude, if you're going to come home from school because of a sore leg, baseball is out of the question. To me it's just a moral thing.

Did you ever play hooky from school? What did you do?

My Mother's Day Homemade Gifts - THE BEST!

Mother's day this year was pretty uneventful for me. I'm fine with that. I'm a pretty easy going person and I don't expect anything really. That whole breakfast in bed thing, meh, I can do without that quite frankly. I'm pretty picky with breakfast as it is. We had to get ready for a baseball game anyway - sports still go on.

But my kid's made the best homemade gift for me. I have a collection of past homemade gifts at my desk at work:

A painted mini plant pot that I use for hiding things in one place
A pretty picture hanging on my cubicle wall

And now I have more items to add to the collection:

This will be added to my cubicle wall to be displayed proudly.

The red painted rock that says "Happy Mother's Day" will sit on my desk.
The green trivet will say at home and be used with pride.
The long book mark is currently inside my book and will be used from this day forward.

My mom added in the British Pounds for our trip to the UK in a month (thanks mom).

I love these homemade gifts and will keep them for ever and ever, Amen!

What are some of your favourite homemade gifts?

My Grandmother the Camera Bandit

I was at my parent's house the other night for dinner and I decided to go through some pictures they have in various boxes looking for some nice shots of our long dead family dog. I want to do a write up about him and thought a few cute pics of the ol' furball would be nice. So of course, this giant mess of Kodak hell, pre-digital duh, resembles a photo graveyard. As I'm going through this tornado of photos I'm thinking, "when they (parents) kick the bucket, I have to organize all this, cuz this mess is nasty".

There were photos randomly strewn everywhere, in no particular order, ranging from my mother's childhood in India, my birthday parties, visits to Scotland, the pooch of course, my children (obviously)...

...and a number that were taken by my Grandmother, God bless her, I miss her.

My Grandmother lived a somewhat privileged life, travelling the world with my Grandfather. My Grandfather doted on her and would do anything for her. However, I would compare my Grandmother's use of a camera somewhat how I would compare my own mother's modern day take on the Internet, her email, and a computer - "My invisible Internet lines keep breaking when I have my bedroom window open and wind comes in and blows the Internet waves" (she actually said this when I was looking for a picture, I'm not kidding - luv you mummy) - you get it.

So to prove my point (love ya Grannie, miss ya, mean it), here are a few pictures she took that I was able to scan. See for yourself a rookie photographer at work:

This is a picture of a window at my Grandparent's house in Scotland. The people in the lower left hand corner are me the little one, and my part of Great Aunt.

This next shot is of the same window at a different angle. The foot peaking out of the left hand corner is mine.

You could argue that she was taking pictures of her windows and I just happened to get in the way...but I'm pretty sure she was trying to get a cute shot of her first grandchild....pretty certain!

Here's one in North Vancouver after we moved from the UK and my Grandparents were visiting. This is a picture of a brick wall, a plastic scooter, part of a tricycle, and not sure if you can see, but if there's a hand on the left hand side, it's mine posing with my tricycle.

Again, taking a picture of wall and surrounding apartments? Probably not. She wants to take a picture of her grandchild back to Scotland with her to show the relatives. I can only imagine the photo developer's reaction when these babies were processing.

And this beauty here is the camera bandit herself, my Grandmother, as a child. Probably 1920-1930 or so. She certainly was a looker. I think she works better in front of the camera, don't you?

My next post will be about the dog. He was a cutie also.