bolo's

Did you realize that the word blog comes up in the Blogger spellcheck as (ahem) not a real word??

Since blog is NOT a proper word in your blog, their suggested replacement, spelled correctly words include: bloc, Bloch, blows, bloke, blocs, block, bolo's, bloc's, blouse and blocky.

You'd think they'd wanna do something about that? Just sayin'...

No warning

None of you warned me. Phooey on you. NO ONE ever warned me how emotional a day can be when your children turn four years old. Holy shit! The gamet of emotions was beyond any applicable coping mechanisms for more than a few moments.

Why is it so hard? Is it cause we don't want them to grow up? Or cause we do? Is it cause they just make us so damn proud of what both they have accomplished, as well as us as parents? Parent? Me? MOI? A parent? WTF is that? I still feel like a teenager most of the time (with a few more aches, pains and aging issues). How can it be me? How can I be so lucky? SO blessed to have these two beautiful boys growing up before my eyes. LITERALLY.

Nobody warned me about how flipping fast four years can go past. Here is 4 years: 48 months or 1461 days or 35 064 hours or 2 103 840 minutes or 126 230 400 seconds. How can one's heart get fuller and fuller with each second, approaching a billion - can it burst?? Not a chance.

There are days I swear someone has physically grown overnight. Not just the pants that are 3 inches above the ankles, but about that kid skipping along ahead of me in Zellers today, not my kid, cause that's a KID. I have babies. Now, where the hell is my baby? Holy crap - it's HIM!!!

The older one, thanking everyone for his gifts, hugging them, totally unprompted, saying "Thank you Gramps, you're the best Gramps". Then doing the same for cousins, aunts, uncles, and when he got to my husband's cousin's husband (got that?), he did the hug thing and said "Thanks Mick, you are the best... (pause pause pause) ...???? Mick!" Followed by a speech informing us all that "I bring everyone all my love". I shit you not. Here it is:

Then the next morning, Patty on Kids' CBC read their birthday stars on TV. I think they thought it was kool, but didn't get anywhere near as excited as I was. I was in tears. It just seemed SO. DAMN. COOL. I taped it, never gonna erase it. I'll eventually never be able to show them since VHS will soon be a thing only in the history books right next to the beta tapes, but I'll always have it, stored in more ways than one.

So now my boys are boys. They are four years old. Unbelievable. Here I go, crying again.

Slowly steps away shaking head in disbelief...

The Eve

It is like friggin' Christmas Eve around here. It is 1 AM and I just finished wrapping presents. We have a birthday party here tomorrow (today? ack!) and even though I am bleary eyed with exhaustion, Aunt Flo has arrived just in time for the celebrations, and I am certain to have forgotten one key item needed...I am practically giddy with anticipation.

The boys are so so so so so so so excited. Their cousins are coming for a sleepover. They very likely couldn't give a shit about getting any presents, as long as there is cake and their cousins, they will be so happy. But, there are presents. Lots of them. I am not even going to get into the whole 'hmmm...are they spoiled' debate, cause yes, they are.

As I wrapped each gift (twice, since we still get two of almost everything) I literally, physically had butterflies in my stomach. We prepared for this gift giving extrabaganze. We went to TRU, we did the list, we went back to recertify "The List" and so, when I know someone is getting the one Rescue Hero he has been coveting for months (a friend has it) or someone else the CD he's been asking for cause his older girlfriend Katie got it for her 5th birthday in February, I respond in a physiological nature. We even threw in a new outdoor toy, cause, well, it just looked like so much fun. (oooh, note to ebay shoppers, only $9.99 at my Loblaws). I know from others they are getting this very kool edumacational toy and another outdoor toy. (aren't relaticks and godparents just the bestest ever in this whole wide world?)

Anyway, is it about the toys? Sure! It is about the excitement, the fun, the look in their eyes, and yes, everything else in between.

I love them so much it hurts. I know you parents out there know what I am saying. When they were born, I cried for months out of pure joy just at the sight of them doing anything from sleeping to drooling to farting. It is four years later, I am still crying at the same things. And more. Much more. They continue to amaze me every single day. I hope that never changes (at least till they are teenagers, but one can always dream).

I was teasing them about not needing a cake and we will just put a candle in a fig newton, or a waffle, or scrambled eggs. My first born replied, "But Mommy, we HAVE to have a birthday cake on our birthday, I LOVE cake, it is the most important thing!" So there you have it, I do hope they have a fun day with family, lots of love and laughs, and of course I want them to have their cake and eat it too.

Snippets

Remember me? Every time I sign in to Blogger, there is that little button asking "Remember me?" well...here I am.

I really AM posting daily, honest, only I am working very hard and enjoying this other blog, that is so very important to me right now. I have mentioned it before, but working daily for such an exciting and meaningful event has been such a fulfilling and gratifying experience.

Life is, as usual, crazy busy, the hubs is home today as a 'bonus' (?) before he leaves tomorrow at 6 AM for a week in Bangkok. All I know is that he better come home with something for me displaying a (fake) name like Prada, Tod's or the like. I don't care if it costs $10...just get it.

We will actually have a date tonight! I have a sitter booked to arrive at 6 PM. First time in two months. We have yet to decide what we are doing, dinner, furniture shopping, Da Vinci code, or a combination of somewhat. Who cares, I just look so forward to being a 'couple' for a few hours.

Hey - did you know that when that really little 'member' that little boys have, get a little Mr. Happy and wake up in the night to pee that HELLUVA LOT MORE than little amount of pee goes EVERYWHERE THE PLACE.

I only have a few moments left before I head out to have my way overdue eyebrows caterpillars waxed. You know, it's date night. I even shaved my legs, yesterday, but close enough.

And, just a reminder, that when you have scheduled with the city, to have your main water valve shut off on Friday morning at 10, so the contractor can do some serious plumbing work, and they arrive early Thursday morning and shut it off while you are IN THE SHOWER, that when you grab a towel, jump to the window to yell at them, make sure you have BOTH breasts covered. I'm just sayin...

Happy Mudder Dayz!!

That is how I was greeted last night, while being presented with my card. Inside the card was a preschooler made bookmark, on pink paper, with pressed with dried flowers taped to it. It is actually quite lovely. I exclaimed, "Oh! I love my new bookmark!" and was promptly corrected, "That isn't a markbook, it's fowlers for you cause I know you love fowlers". It is already being used. As a markbook, so there.

Wanna know how privileged I am??? (for an excellent definition of that statement, please refer to Phantom Scribbler's post and comments about that). Since we did the Mudder Dayz thing last night, with take out Vietnamese for no cooking for Mom (yum), brownies for dessert, then the 'thang'. It was too funny, cause I didn't really know we were doing anything. I was practically all the way under the sink refilling the soap dispenser, cleaning garbage, etc and the boys come running in to tell me "Happy Mudder Dayz!" So out I climb covered in crumbs, liquid soap and more crumbs.

They gave me a gift card for Pier 1 Imports. Have I ever mentioned my near obsession with that place? We are going to be renovating the family room this summer, for which we will need a new couch (the old one going in the new basement). I am coveting these accent pillows

for my new couch, which I want to be in the colour of chocolate brown. A-shopping I will go!!!

My father stopped by this morning to also give me something - what a surprise! I am totally thrilled to have received

this recipe book. I have the previous two and love them so much, now I have a complete collection!

Yesterday I ran out of coffee. I had intended to get some, but just didn't get to it. Mr. Beloved is working all weekend, he was to leave the house by 7:30. Me thinks he left a little early cause when I came downstairs this morning, waiting for me was a very sweet card from him AND a large time of Tim Horton's coffee grounds. LOVE THAT MAN!!! (the husband, not Mr. Horton)

I guess the 'icing on the cake' was the fact that the boys slept until 8:15 this morning. Happy Mudder Dayz to me.

A good friend just called me to wish me a Happy Day. She hesitated to include the word mother, and then explained to me why. She was wondering if it was a hard day for me, since my mother died almost 3 years ago. Of course I am sad, and I miss her desperately every day, but this morning is different. I was thinking of her, and smiling while feeling inspired. She is truly such an inspiration to me, even in her physical absence. I can only aspire to be half as good a mother to my children as she was to me. It may seem kinda corny and typical that on Mother's Day Mudder Dayz, that one of the three people that truly keeps me going on this very day (and every other day) is my mother. The other two? They are currently bare chested playing fishies in the bathroom sink spilling water 'everywhere the place'. Isn't motherhood grand?

A very special Mother's Day wish to all the Mom's reading this. We deserve it.

1.2.3.4.5.

Dunno if I can say I was officially tagged by andrea or tagged myself, but here we go:

Five things in my fridge
1. beer
2. wine
3. chocolate
4. helluva good dip
5. fixings for BBQ hamburger feast tonight
**Can you tell it is the pre-weekend stock?\

Five things in my closet
1. clothes that fit
2. clothes that don't fit
3. $60 of pennies rolled, in a box
4. gym bag (rather unused) but packed and ready to go should the urge arise
5. a 1/4 gallon can of benjamin moore paint, colour - shaker beige

Five things in my purse
1. wallet
2. blistex
3. Dentyne Frostbites (i am near addicted)
4. tissue, unable to determine if clean or not
5. 3 little boxes of raisins (for starvation emergencies)

Five things in my car (van for moi)
1. box of tissue (rest assured, clean)
2. CDs (Wiggles, Proclaimers)
3. cell phone charger
4. Dollorama binoculars (for bird watching)
5. litter

Anna, Sharon, twinmom, Northern Mom and Boo-Boo - consider yourself tagged!! And of course anyone else who wants to play.

I cried. For real.

I really did. I cried yesterday morning when my boys received their first REAL birthday party invite. You know the kind, to the party, for preschool friend, who I don't know (but rest assured I do know who he is, of him, and have met his parents). But, people, this is for real.

It's a Pirate Party.
On a Sunday.
At 11:30 AM.

Am I expected to leave them? If yes, what does this mean? That my offspring are actually growing up? For real? I am not sure I am ready for this. I really didn't expect it till they were at least in kindergarten, maybe even grade 1. That would be 2008. That would buy me at least 2 more years to prepare.

I am not prepared.

Or ready.

This is just TOO REAL.

Again! Late in the afternoon, B was outside with Daddy, A was listening to music with me as I prepared supper. Doorbell. It's the six year old girl from two doors down.

"Does A wanna play with me?"

Pardonnez-moi? Pardon me? WTF??? Er, um, NO, he doesn't cause he is still too little and too young and well, just, er, um, come on in, go ask him.

They went out in the back to play. Together. Soccer. Then they were swinging together, squealing with laughter. Then screaming for fun, just because they could.

This can't be real, can it? Really? Holy shit, I really need a reality check. For real.

Morphing into us?

This lovely post over at writing as jo(e) wrote got me thinking. I tend to agree with her, I really do. I can already see how much our not even 4 year old boys copy/mimic/mold themselves after us. It is as fascinating as it is complimentary as it is scary. I realize this does not apply to every single family situation, but just in general, for the moment, while they are preschoolers and not rebellious curfew breaking 16 year old boys (but mine will NEVER do that).

The boys have blessed me with a couple of good 'playing together' days, so I get to watch, listen, spy, analyze, and most of all, enjoy. I hear them say things we say to them all the time. Examples include: "This is your last warning", "Cause it's nice to do things for other people when they don't ask", "You forgot a very important word" (referring to 'please') and even "You're yelling too loud, that's your outside voice". (The last one being one of those phrases I vowed to never use as a parent, but geez my aching ears, it's just gotta be done.)

I would like to use myself for a moment. Am I like my mother? Absofuckinglutely. It almost scares me at times. Just way too many examples in how I like to carry myself, fill my time, commit to volunteering, the kids, the friends, neighbours, family, just about everyone but myself, all while I still do take time for me, even if just a little, it is for me. I believe she set a good example for me. I like to follow good examples, good idea, no? There are even times I cough, yes a cough, and I sound exactly like she did, when she coughed of course.

There are times I wonder how the hell she did all that she did, while taking such good care of us. I am currently swamped with volunteer work, charities, preschool, church, co-op playgroup, etc. all while working hard at maintaining and enjoying relationships with family, friends and neighbours. Am I exhausted? You bet. Would I change it? Well, perhaps I should, but not likely to happen any time soon.

I do admire her about one thing in particular. You see, my father also traveled a lot, just as my husband does. I don't ever recall hearing her complain. Never. I am always whining about the travel, the time he is away from us, how much more could get done if he was home. You know, in the same country perhaps? I will confess that being with the boys alone for so long is definitely getting much easier as they get older, actually fun at times. I think instead of missing his help with them so much, it is more just missing him.

Oops, tangent alert - how did I get here?

Rewind to purpose, intent of ramble. (easier to just keep going than try to edit)

I think what I am trying to say, is that I can only hope that DH and I can be the best models as we can to our children, so that they can hopefully aspire to mold their little clay-like selves into someone they like being.

Referring back to this post, the day after I made a conscious decision and was very public in this house about my decision to yell no more. You likely know, since none of you scream at your offspring like I did (note: past tense), it DOES make a difference. We have previously had 'low voice days' which work, but I am changing the tides, permanently. I like it so far.

Hypothetical High

If a person were to be traveling on a plane at a cruising altitude 35 000 feet, was able to make a wireless connection for a fee of $20, and that person's spouse happened to be on the computer at that very time, at which they were able to converse using MSN Messenger, would that potentially qualify as membership to the infamous "Mile High Club"? Or would the fact that the service was paid for cause that to be defunct.

Hypothetically speaking typing, of course.

By a thread.

I am still here. In case you care. You know that thing called life? Well, it's a pretty big thang and it seems to be getting a little bit in the way these days.

The weather? Is just so bloody gorgeous, how the hell can you not just wanna play outside till after 5 PM and then having to make quick-fix suppers like grilled cheese or pancakes? How can you not? Really.

Rainy day? Pshaw. Ideal for a field trip to Starbucks for expensive muffins and a half vanilla latte for moi followed by...one hour of so much fun in Toys R Us. We went with the intent to make our wish list for an upcoming birthday. We had so much fun. We have a very generous list to work from, and I am most proud that I didn't spend a cent. Do you know how easy it would've been for me to break the bank??

The Hubs? Since last Saturday, he's been to Mozambique and is currently in Uzbezikstan. We miss him deperately and hope he'll be home safely one of these days.

The time? Most of my extra time (Bwah ha ha!) has been spent with the children, creatively avoiding housework, doing our taxes (right up till deadline), spending way too much time picking paint colours for the basement, watching playoff hockey, doing crafts, as well as working on this little blog for this project which is so dear to my heart for many reasons.

The house? Kneefuckingdeep in dust.

The friend from university? Visiting this weekend!

The booze? Consumed.

The ripple chips and Helluva Good Dip? Consumed.

And now I need chocolate.

How was your week? Oh ya, I already know cause you actually make the time to post to your blogs and send emails. Me?

Not. So. Much.

The one where I whine about yelling, or is that yell about whining

I am hoping this is a wasted post, and someone can simply solve my issues and this whole post will be moot. (muted?)

What to do with a little boy, one month shy of being 4, who just does not listen. Wait, he can hear me, very very well (I've run successful tests which include words such as popsicle, cookie or Buzz Lightyear) but lately, there are more times than not, that it appears he just does not hear me. If and when he does, no matter what it is, to get in the bath, out of the bath, get shoes on, wash hands, even fun things....the Oscar winning dramatics accompanied by award winning whining is enough of enough. Just enough. Not only when tired, cranky, pissed off, but all. the. bloody. time.

We talk about using our various more attractive voices, such as 'big boy', 'happy', or just plain 'nice' voice. A lot. We have a problem here, not working.

How can I get through to this little brick wall, I mean tender little boy, without, (er, ahem, blushing a little) raising my voice a lot more than a little.

I know, I know, time to go back and refresh myself with Ann's marvelous book, which I fully intend to do, but this way gets me to actually post something so you don't think this blog has shriveled up and disappeared. (also knee deep in devouring and enjoying a real grown-up novel, the kind you can read for fun? you know the kind. Priorities you know, also good for sanity.)

It breaks my hear to rag about him, especially in public. He just does not want to cooperate. This is all fairly new. We have had it pretty damn good, may even take a chance at being yelled at by mentioning that we barely saw those 'Terrible Twos'. In fact, till the past month or so, the threes were almost dreamy. Now we approach the fours. To which I have often heard referred to by those more experienced parents, as the fucking fours. If the other guy tags on, then that's doubles. Actually, I'll square it, to exponentially increase my challenge/stress/frustration factor to 16 (on a scale of 1 to 4).

Today we had a few rough spots. I yelled. I actually raise my voice waaaaaay more than I am comfortable with, but there just doesn't seem to be any other way, except physical manipulation, which to me, sometimes seems almost worse.

Example:
The latest is always wanting what the other guy has. Not for any other reason than that. So, Twin A happily playing with toy A. Twin B who was previously most delightedly playing with toy B, takes notice of toy A, and on a completely unwarranted notion, ATTACKS. He grabs it and takes it. Twin A? Upset of course. The mother? Upset of course. Asking in a nice, reasonable voice for the return is done three times. It is reminded that three times have passed (so that counts for 4). Then twin A may now ATTACK simply to repossess toy A. We have a full blown tug-a-war.

My options?

(a) talk nicely in attempt to reach a resolution (BWAH-HA-HA as if that'll work)
(b) let them fight till they rip each other's ears off (nah, too messy with all that blood, plus I don't have enough ice in the house)
(c) grab it away from both of them (now THAT sets a good example!)
(d) pick one up and remove him kicking and screaming (also good example, plus risk of getting injured)
(e) yell "PLEASE STOP IT!" (always use please, or else they'll call you on that one too) but it works.

But regretfully I have yelled. Too much. It sucks.

I hate to end on a negative...so how about those Sens??