Jul 16, 2009

Rejected by Dog Rescue

Devon has had quite a few accidents lately and I will not be getting the mother-of-the-year award for my reactions. I do not like to clean up urine and feces. I do not like it at all.

Devon: “the carpet is all wet”

Me: “what do you mean?”

Devon: “I peed a little.”


I go check out his bedroom. The carpet is soaked. Dammit. I go back into the bathroom to remove his soaked clothing.

Me: What is wrong with you?

Devon: Nuffin.

Yep...being rejected by the dog rescue doesn’t seem so wrong anymore.

Jul 15, 2009

No Puppy for YOU!

Keith has finally caved agreed that we could get a dog. We don’t want to buy a dog, we want to rescue a dog that needs a home. Preferably, we’d like to get a puppy so we can train him/her ourselves.

We completed an adoption form to rescue a pup and we received a very polite PFO because our children are too young.

“My suggestion would be to wait another full year or two before considering adoption....for the sake of your children.”

SERIOUSLY?! It’s not like we want to adopt a pit-bull, it’s a golden lab for goodness sake. We’d like to adopt Daisy. The girls looked at this picture of her and said, “she’s so sad! If she came to our house she could be part of our family and be happy”.

We will have to move on to Plan B.

Jul 5, 2009

Home Fireworks = Stupidity

We went to a family block party tonight to celebrate Canada Day and well...really, just an excuse to have some fun with friends who all happen to live on the same crescent. After much drinking, to the point where most adults could not walk a straight line, the home fireworks came out.

Keith (ahem, and most people who know me well) often calls me Marlin. You know, Nemo’s dad. Yes, I admit it, I wear the name well, but, SERIOUSLY PEOPLE, I just don’t want anything bad to EVER happen to my kids – is that so wrong?

So back to the fireworks, I’m driving, which means I’m sober. Way to sober to think in any way possible that home fireworks are a good idea. I am, however, in the minority. The adults gather all the children in one spot before setting off dangerous flying flames the fireworks. Caitlin, who is five, decides this isn’t such a good idea and goes inside one of the houses. (We did just witness someone being arrested last night for setting off home fireworks near the fair. Such a smart kid – I hope she continues to make her own choices and not cave to peer pressure when she’s older.)

Fireworks Begin: Colors, noises, cracking....that’s just me grinding my teeth with nervousness and closing my eyes so tight I can see colors.

Fireworks Really Begin: Okay...this isn’t so bad...OMG, OMG, OMG...okay...are they over yet? OMG, OMG, OMG, I can’t look. Yikes...that one landed on the roof of the house. Bam, bam, bam....WTF!!!! HOLY SH*T, they are flying directly at all the children!!.

The children learned a new vocabulary during those scary 40 seconds of hell when the last round of fireworks fell over and shot directly into the crowd of kids instead of the sky. Let’s just say that many expletives were used.

Thankfully, nobody was hurt. Lesson learned: if this happens next year, we're ALL going in the house with Caitlin.

Jul 3, 2009

Even Superheroes Must Sleep

I don't think I've ever thought or talked so much about sleep before having kids. How much sleep I’m not getting, how much sleep they are or aren’t getting.

Bryanna has always needed more sleep (slept through the night at 10 weeks) and knew when to ask for a nap. We had play dates with her friends Erin and Maddy from the time she was an infant until she was almost 4 years old. Even with everyone over and playing, she would ask for a nap when she was tired. She would go upstairs and sleep soundly even with all the chaos still happening downstairs.

Caitlin, well...ehhmmm....let’s just visualize the energizer bunny on ten cups of espresso with a round of firecrackers shoved up its a**. She’s never ever really in a restful state. From the time she was born, she would nap for about 20 minutes a day. I would need a 4-hour nap after the excruciating process of trying to get her to rest for those 20 minutes. We quickly realized it just wasn’t worth it...by quickly, I mean after two years of trying.

Devon, now three, was a completely different story again. He slept through the night later than Bryanna, but unlike Caitlin, he always took his naps and enjoyed them (maybe it was his magic blanket – that’s another post). It’s been a bit of a struggle trying to get him to take a nap lately. It’s really hard to try and get him to sleep when he knows his two sisters are up and about and doing something that he is missing out on.

We’re doing a balancing act with the just right amount of sleep time for our little super hero. If he naps too long during the day, he’s up until 10pm. If he doesn’t nap, he is cranky and unbearable. We should have it all figured out by the end of August when schedules change. Right?

Jul 2, 2009

Out of the Mouths of my Babes

Setting: Devon playing dress-up
Me: You look so cool as Spiderman
Devon: But, I’m not Spiderman, I’m Devon because I don’t know where the mask is.

Setting: Putting temporary tattoos on the kids over the sink
Bryanna: Mommy, can you lift me up on the sink too?
Grammy: Bryanna you’re too heavy for mommy to lift.
Mommy: It’s okay, I lifted her yesterday, she’s not too heavy.
Bryanna: See Grammy, I’m not too heavy for mommy, just for old people.

Canada Day Sisterly Love

We celebrated Canada Day the same way we have for the last few years. We go watch the Pierrefonds parade, visit the fair, then return at 10pm to watch the fireworks. I love this family tradition...although, this year the fair seemed a little seedier than usual, and the kids are quickly outgrowing the rides that I am comfortable with them getting on. We may need to tweak this tradition next year, or at the very latest, the year after.

We’re always wondering if we did the right thing having our girls so close together (17 months apart). They bicker often, so, when we catch glimpses of sisterly love, it does us all a bit of good. They were so sweet holding hands on the swings.