We Interrupt This Blog to Bring You a Move

So, the big move is this week.

Monday we take possession.


Tuesday morning the stuff comes.


Tuesday afternoon Way Cooler leaves me and the boys for ten days.


Saturday I dissolve into a little puddle of packing tape and shelf-liner.


The worst part?


No Internet. Yep, because Way Cooler has to leave so soon on Tuesday, there is a strong possibility that he will not have time to set up the computer before he leaves. I can set up the computer fine, it's the whole network thing-y that is working me into a cold sweat. So, chances are I will be living like the pioneers, web-free.


Yes, it is a tragedy. Send chocolate.


Actually, we will all be quite fine, what with unpacking and finding stuff and everything I don't know when I would have time to blog anyway. At least that's what I keep telling myself.


I'll be back. (Insert Arnie accent.)


For those of you wondering how Way Cooler gets off so easy, I actually have it easier. In those ten days he is giving and grading finals, having a minor surgical procedure, (no it's not THAT one) attending Grad (insert yawn) and teaching a course. "Everything You Wanted to Know About the History of Preaching but Were Afraid to Ask Stuffed into one Action-Packed Week." (The real title is a little different, but mine is Waaay catchier.) All the while living in a dorm room that was last decorated and disinfected in 1978.

So, we will be back once we are all settled in and happy!!

Miss me lots!

Bite Back

Want to spend ten bucks on something worthwhile?
Click here!
Sophie's goal is 50 in 50 hours. Go give her a hand!

William Shatner Would be So Proud

Spud loves to eat. LOVES it. We have often joked that he will eat ANYTHING that is not nailed down or running faster than him. There is a great deal of truth to this.

This was never more evidenced than this week.

My dad eats Bran Buds daily for breakfast. Yes, those little pellets that look like rabbit food. I won't touch them with a 10 foot pole, but they are a staple in my parent's house. Spud decided he wanted some too. I gave him 7 or so and he clamoured for more. Everyday for breakfast my son now eats 2 or 3 kid sized bowls of bran-buds and granola.

(Insert shudder)

Of course, whatever Spud does, Sprout must do too. So, at 6:30 every morning (this IS sleeping in, they used to get up an hour earlier) I serve geriatric cereal to both of my children. There is something a little disconcerting about a 2 year old yelling enthusiastically for "more Ban please."

My only issue with the buds, aside from the fact that I feel as if I am feeding my kids cardboard with a granola chaser is that those little pellets can really fly. I am finding buds in all kinds of places, including down my shirt this morning.

(If you are asking why they are flying, then you do not have boys.)

As for all the jokes you are thinking up regarding the "regularity factor" with the large quantities of bran that these little people consume, yeah not so much. They still have issues. I honestly don't know how as they consume enough fibre right now to keep a whole nursing home "running smoothly."

I LOVE Two

The following conversation occurred in my house tonight. (Yes, technically, it isn't MY house, we still live with my folks, just taking a little literary licence. Humour me.)

HG: "Hey Sprout, it's time to clean up. You don't know how to clean up do you?"

S: "Wes" (yes). Nodding

HG: "No, you can't clean up yet, can you?"

S: "Wes wes wes." Nodding so hard his head nearly came off his shoulders.

HG: "Are you sure?"

S: "Weeees" he shouted as he raced down the stairs to jubilantly throw toys into the toy box.

Something tells me this ain't gonna work when he's 13.

Pity.

You Might Want to Go Get Some Cheese

Here comes the whine.

It is snowing. SNOWING and SNOWING and SNOWING.

Blech.

I understand that I live in Alberta and we have spring storms but when they interfer with my plans I get grumpy. Kick a cat grumpy. Except I couldn't even find a cat, there is too much snow.

You see, tomorrow I was supposed to drive about 45 minutes to a different city to meet another blogger. I've been reading Teri's blog for about a year or so and was so excited to finally meet her. She is intelligent and funny and NOT your typical mommy blogger. Unlike yous truly. It would have made for some great conversation.

But now that's not gonna happen. Grrr.

I keep reading about all these other bloggers and how they meet and it sounds sooo fun but it doesn't happen often for me for two reasons:

a) most of the bloggers I read have seven billion readers and wouldn't know me from a hole in the wall

b) 98% of the people who read this blog already know me. Hi Aunties!!

So, when I finally get to meet someone guess what happens?

Three days of snow accompanied by nasty, nasty winds. Not exactly what you want to drive in with a two and three year old.

With all this storming you'd think at least I'd get some graphics. Yeah, not so much. If we got this in August, they might mention it on the news, but till then all I get is snow and no Teri.

Well at least snow is pretty.

Pretty awful.

Back in the Saddle Again

So, after Wednesday, Way Cooler agreed that it might be a good idea for mommy to take a wee bit of break. (Translation - see if mommy could work out some of the crazy before she killed somebody.)

So, I ran away to the city. To my happy place. Yep, that would be a mall in search of killer deals. Unfortunately I found it hard to focus on the cute shorts and sleeveless shirts in Old Navy when it was snowing to beat the band outside.

Yes I know it's mid-April. At least Victoria has more snow than us. That's all I am clinging to right now.

However, I did manage to get a couple of shirts and a hoodie. The downside, they were for my kids and niece. Why is it that on my day off I end up shopping in the kids section more than the stuff for me?

Oh, I think I know, it might have something to do with a little episode in Fairweather. I found a pair of jeans for $10.00 (whoo hoo) and a pretty shirt. I was pumped. They were cute and the price was right. All was well till I hit the changing room.

On the hanger the shirt seemed to follow Stacey and Clinton's advice and it flowed away from the body. The problem is, I have too much body and this shirt, well it clung to the body like Saran Wrap to cheese. It was not a pretty picture. At all.

The jeans were cute but were designed more for women who have never been pregnant, work out twice daily and view eating as optional. I couldn't get them past my knees. I think it was at this point I made the decision to stick with Please Mum and Children's Place as shopping options.

Then I went and ate buffet. Nothing like gorging yourself on Chinese when you can't fit into jeans. Maybe a little counter-productive, but yummy none-the-less.

So, now mommy has regained her equilibrium. Just in time for the big family dinner tonight. My parents, my sister, brother-in-law and her three girls, my whole family and my brother, his wife and their black lab.

Should be fun. Noisier than a monster truck rally, but fun none-the-less. We'll see if my childless brother and his wife agree!

My Momma Told me There'd be Days Like This

Ever have one of those days that leads you to seriously contemplating the following:

Going back to work
Selling your kids to the Hutterites
creating new profanities
Duct-taping a mouth or two
binge drinking
locking your kids in their rooms for the day
running away

Yeah, me neither.

Mmmm hmmm

One thing keeps me going on days like today

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:21-23

I may fail in my compassion, but God doesn't.

That's a good thing.

A VERY good thing.

Hunters of the North

As I may have mentioned before, as we were attempting to sell the house we discovered we had mice.

At first we thought it was just a few. Turns out the few were those looking to colonize the garage after the shed got over-crowded. We hadn't gone to the shed all winter; there's not a lot of need for lawn-mowers in December, so we had no idea it had turned into mouse heaven. It was sheltered and dry and had three bags of grass seed in it. Apparently for mice, this is as good as it gets.

So, when Way Cooler finally got to the shed and discovered the kingdom of mouse he began the arduous task of mouse eviction. However, some weren't going down without a fight and made it to the outer colony of the garage. Slowly but surely we dispatched those ones too, except one.

She was a feisty one. Never mess with a pregnant chick, be it mortal or mouse. She set up camp in our Christmas tree and when we vacuumed that nest out she found another house.

But by this point, the long dormant hunter part of my husband's genetic make-up was fully functioning. He was not to be bested by a pregnant female, at least not one that he didn't have to share a bed with. (He's a wise hunter and was often bested by this female when she was pregnant.)

It became his personal mission to find and exterminate this rodent.

Finally the weekend before we moved my dad was up and was helping Way Cooler move some boxes in the garage and they heard a squeak. Many, many boxes were then moved but the squeaking continued. They took this as a personal challenge.

Finally, they located her. She had hidden in one of my boxes of posters left-over from my teaching days. Flushed with victory they carried the whole box out of the garage. But what to do now? They couldn't let her escape! The problem was we are city folks and our neighbors wouldn't take kindly to them blasting away at a picture box with a .22.

Fortunately necessity is the mother of invention.

I took that particular moment to look out the front door to see how things were going. There, on my front lawn my dad and husband were beating a mouse to death, with rolls of my Christmas wrapping paper from Costco. I don't ever think I will be able to look at those snowmen the same way again.

But at least the hunters were victorious.

The Words, They Escape Me.

I have thought and thought and thought some more but tonight I am a geek of very little brain and have nothing to say.

Those of you who know me are keeling over from shock. Don't worry, the speechless thing only happens once in a blue moon, I will be rambling on again soonest. I know, you are sooo relieved.

While I have nothing worthwhile to write about, Veronica and Jeana do.

So read this post on love and this post on worship and be refreshed, challenged and thankful for this big old web of new ideas and perspectives.

I know I was.

The Lowdown on the Broncostopy

Yes I know, that is the catchiest title EVER. Thank-you.

Anyway. Since you all are dying to know (and by all I mean my very sweet Aunties) I will give the highlights from our trip up North and Spud's procedure.

As many of you know, my kids have GERD. Spud's is quite intense resulting in a three year old who sounds like a 45 year old with a 3 pack a day habit. It's cute, but the ENT wanted to see if the damage was such that it warranted further surgery. Thus a broncostopy, laryngoscopy and a couple of biopsies.

The party stared at 5:30 Tuesday morning as we had to be there at 6:45 and the hospital is right in the midst of a nasty mess of LRT construction. However, apparently the workers were still wisely tucked in their beds at that hour and we made it to the hospital in record time.

We were checked in by a model of efficiency (cough cough) with a lovely booming voice and then sent to wait. This waiting thing would become the recurring theme of the day.

Spud's vitals and stuff were then done by a very nice LPN and it would have been not at all noteworthy except for one little thing. He was a bit on the big side. His scrubs were not. There is nothing like a large section of hairy middle aged belly to start your morning off right.

Then we waited.

Two every nice ladies came to get Spud and I, they walked us to the OR section and deposited us in the (you guessed it) new waiting room.

However, it was here that I was reminded how good I have it. There was a couple who were waiting to have their 5 month old put in a body cast. That would be tough. Spud's thing, it's just a minor inconvenience.

So, then after we had enjoyed the amenities of room number two they put Spud out and mommy went to wait back in number one.

By this point I was raiding the diaper bag for snacks. I hadn't wanted to eat in front of Spud as he couldn't but now I couldn't leave to get me a muffin. And man did momma want a muffin. So instead I had a non-name raisin granola bar. Yee haw. It was either that or applesauce from a foil tube and I just wasn't THAT hungry.

Spud is not like either of his parents when recovering from G.A. He is not goofy, neither does he wish to sleep. He's just grumpy. VERY VERY grumpy. A grumpy that only a Popsicle will cure. It got to the point that I almost swiped a Popsicle from the baby next to us just to keep Spud quiet. I refrained however because his momma looked like she could take me.

Thus began another long period of waiting while Spud sufficiently recovered. I am certain that everyone else in the ward was delighted when we were finally free to go because when his mouth was not full of Popsicle it screamed. A lot. Almost never-ending. On and on. And on.

However, the grumpy wore off once we were out of the hospital and he was eating a strawberry milkshake. Currently my boy has no ills that food will not cure. May it always be that way.

By three that afternoon he was twirling around with a blanket on his head singing songs.

By six-thirty he and his brother were so active that the guy in the hotel room below us came up to complain that my kids were running and "annoying him." I almost offered to get the dude a Popsicle. Hey, it worked for Spud!

So, thanks for your thoughts and prayers, Spud is jsut fine and back to his normal self. Or as normal as my off-spring possibly can be.

Get Up and Bar the Door

* Spud is fine, all went well, full details when I actually feel like writing.

Overheard last night in our hotel room just after I got all warm and cozy in bed.

Way Cooler: (rolling over to stare deeply into my eyes) "Did you put the deadbolt on the door after you came in?"

Me: (snuggling deeper in my blankets) "Nope."

WC: "That's not good."

Me: "Well, you might want to get up and lock it then."

The moral, don't get between a woman and her blankets.

On the Road AGAIN

Since leaving our old city less than two weeks ago we have had to go back twice.

Twice.

Last week Spud and I made a road trip so we could get a pre-op form filled out. Since finding a doc in this area is akin to winning the lottery (same odds) we went back to our GP.

Today we are back on the road to his surgery which will be done in our old city tomorrow. Unfortunately I do not have a laptop so I will not be liveblogging his procedure, but wouldn't that be cool?

(You know you blog waaaay too much when you are considering liveblogging your child's broncostopy.)

Anyway, full details following.

I know you just can't wait.

Umm hmmm.

Well, You Know

This past week has been a bit of a surprise to me. You would think, living in a small town with my folks that the blog fodder would abound. Overflow. Ooze. Be overwhelming in its scope. Yeah, not so much.

It's been quiet and fun. I haven't been in charge of making supper in a week. I've helped, but if it all goes South it isn't my problem. Yee haw. This is something I could get used to. Unfortunately this party ends in 3 weeks.

This really does make me sad.

On the bright side, next week should bring plenty of stories, Spud goes for a VERY minor day surgery. Not a big deal at all. However, I will be spending the day immersed in the good, the bad and the ugly of socialized medicine. I am certain I will get a story from that. If not, I will bore the pants off you entertain you with stories of my uber-cute child and how he deals with anesthetic. I'm betting he takes after his mother and acts like a sorority girl at spring break. Just without the shirt lifting.

I'm not kidding, H.G. + general anesthetic = spinny blond chick on uppers (lots of 'em.) I scare the pants off of Way Cooler whenever I have to go under, he will scrounge around for any other option. "Can't you just give her a pill or something?" Can't say I blame him in the least.

So, we shall see. On that note, does anyone have any ideas for prepping a three year old kid for a day surgery? We've taken out a book from the library and will read that, but you all are brilliant and may have some creative ways to make the whole thing as painless as possible.

I am now off to research fun things to do in my parent's town. Something tells me we've done them all already, but you never know. Maybe there's a mall hidden around here somewhere. We were going to go to the park, but big surprise, it's supposed to snow tomorrow.

Didn't someone say something about Spring?

Babies

The calender says it is Spring.

Mmm hmmm. That's why there's more snow in the forecast.

To me, Spring means new life. Since there is none on the trees or in the flowerbeds yet, I am particularly excited about the babies some of my blogger buddies are being blessed with right now.

I have been following Janet's blog for about a year now. I was blessed enough to meet her a couple of weeks ago! In a week she and her husband are headed overseas to pick up their two new babies and bring them home! You've got to check these cuties out!

Both Allison of Olive Plants and my blog designer Butterfly Kisses just had baby boys in the last couple of weeks. You got to check these brave chickies out! They both had their babies at home surrounded by family and friends and no meds. At all. They are truly better woman than I.

Go check out the pictures of cuteness, or in Allison's case the description of cuteness!

Warning. If your ovaries still speak to you from time to time, you may want to avoid these blogs for a while otherwise you may be overwhelmed with a need for another one.

Congrats to all the mommies on your special little ones. Doesn't matter if it is your first or ninth (in Allison's case) all babies are indescribable gifts.

April's Fools

I thought about trying to play a practical joke on y'all today, but I can write about the funny, I cannot do the funny.

Seriously.

The last time I played a joke for April's fool was when I was 5. Didn't work well then either.

My dad on the other hand, he can do the funny. My favorite joke was one he played on my sister.

They were both at our little church, she was getting ready for music on Sunday and he was on a ladder washing windows. She had gone around a corner and up the stairs to photocopy something. She was half-way up when she heard a yell, a huge crash and then nothing. She came flying down the stairs to see my dad lying on the floor with the ladder on it's side, cleaning supplies strewn everywhere.


She was certain he'd had a heart attack and was about to commence hers when he started to laugh. I think he slept with one eye open for the rest of the year.


So, Happy April, may you be nobody's fool today!