Now I’m not sure what exactly the kids these days are watching,* but it looks like our meagre selection has to be heavily edited. Take for instance Finding Nemo. Seems perfectly innocent, once you get past the scene where EVERYONE DIES! Then there’s the chasing and the being lost and the…hmm, seems we’re down to three movies on our list. Lion King? Forget. It. So we’re left with The Muppets and The Aristocats.

Ah, one of my favourites, The Aristocats. I mean, who doesn’t love jazz-playing cats? (Yes I know Edgar is the answer) What I thought was a pretty darn feel-good movie caused quite a bit of anxiety for the little one. From the bumpy night ride in the back of Edgar’s bike, right up until the cats were comfortably re-installed on their plumped up cushions, this movie was fraught with tension and near death experiences in V’s eyes. V spent the entire time with her head ducked under my arm, snuggled up as tight as she could get, uttering the odd whimper and asking if it was over yet. She’s a sensitive one that little blondie of mine.

I do still have hope though, the next day’s review seemed a little more upbeat, and glossed over the ‘scarier’ parts. Oh, and her final takeaway? “Timbuktu is the storage closet for bad guys!”

Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some children’s movies to pre-screen.

*just as long as they stay off my damn lawn!

No I won’t be doing a recap of the last three weeks, I can barely remember what happened 3 hours ago. I won’t be doing a farewell post to the year, (we know how well that turned out last year!) and I won’t be making resolutions, because I’m sure any I would have made, I’ve already broken.

And since I’ve really got nothing else to say at the moment I’ll leave you with this, a creepy clown doll, in our kitchen, in heels.

No I don’t know why.

10am:

11am:

12pm:

1pm:

2pm:

3pm:

4pm:

5pm:

6pm:

7pm:

8pm:

9pm:

10pm:

I was pretty impressed with my ability to actually remember on the hour. I think I only missed one of the shots, and it was only by 10 minutes. My 5pm was delayed in posting, but that was just because I was stuffing my face.
Hope everyone had a wonderful day, whatever you were doing.

The good news is I’ve learned how to cook an 8lb roast, I managed to avoid all foods allergic, disliked, despised or declared ‘poo’ and we determined we can fit another couch in our family room. And we have a decorated tree.

The bad news is when I counted I came up with 13 and there were really 15 for dinner, I forgot to hand out presents to the kids, and the basement is a disaster again!

The other bad news is I’m losing my ever-lovin’ mind, and not in a good way:
Today is garbage day. It’s also the day I work at home (one has nothing to do with the other but they are both background to the story). I had a lunch date and as I pulled out of the driveway I noticed the squirrels had gotten in to the garbage and there were some scraps on the ground. And I kept on driving. As I got to the restaurant hubby called and mentioned he’d be going home for lunch.

Had a great lunch, contemplated shopping but skipped it on the way home, and then pulled back in the laneway. As I did I made a (slight) mental note that the recycle had been picked up. I got out of my van, headed around the car and noted that someone had tidied up the squirrel mess. My first thought? ‘We have the *best* garbage men ever! I cannot believe the recycle guy would tidy that up and protect the rest of the garbage from the squirrels!’

I then head to the front door, put my key in and realize it’s unlocked. I’m not that worried, I know it’s totally possible that I spaced out, but I’m sure I remember locking it. It’s only once I’m completely inside and *see* hubby’s shoes that I realize he’s home (did I mention his car was in the laneway?) and our garbagemen (while they may still be fantastic) did not tidy the mess on the lawn.

Next up for your amusement? On Sunday I’m cooking dinner for those poor suckers called my family. The fire department and paramedics are on standby.

Baby shower Christmas tree

This picture tells me two things. One is to take better pictures, and the second is that my house elves are lazy. Yes that wrinkled silence cloth (tablecloth was already in the wash), 1/2 cake and mess in the background are the aftermath of the first party.

The front cakes were for the second party, the one where we invited 13 kids (and the parents who were nuts enough to stay) over for a sugar-fueled, noise-maker enhanced, prince and princess party:

Aftermath:

You do not want to look too closely at that carpet. My current plan is to lock the door until Thursday and then see how the house elves have gotten on with the cleaning.

Oh, and sleep for a week.

Now when I say it was a non-knitting knitting retreat, I mean specifically for me. There were 60 or so perfectly organized, non-procrastinators who managed to sign up for the knitting class portion of the trip and attended the official program. I just wasn’t one of them.

Every year a contingent of knitwits head to Gananoque on the first weekend in November to attend the Sheeps Ahoy Needler’s Retreat. Not only could I not miss the fun, I would also take a month to blog about it.

I’m sure this year’s program was brimming with wonderful sessions, given by awesome ladies, imparting their considerable knowledge. I’m sure that if I hadn’t been a slacker and had been able to get my registration off to Deb in time I’d have attended more than just the vendors market and meals. Sadly, I am a considerable slacker, one who got her act together just in time to get her name on the waiting list…in the 13th position. Now considering there are a total of 60 places at this retreat, I was fairly well assured that short of illegal activities on my part I would not be part of the program.

And you know what? I was all good with that. Yep, I was all good with three days of hanging around, taking pictures, NOT rushing off to class, but chatting with friends and wool fondling. Saturday I hung with another slacker (place #14 on the waiting list *fistbump*) and Sunday I spent some time lying in the flower gardens playing with my camera. I also managed to cram in a camera session at sunrise and another at sunset. I did miss a gorgeous frosty Saturday morning, opting instead for the breakfast buffet. Mea culpa. You know what else I was all good with? Sleeping in.

So without further ado here are the results of my non-knitting knitting weekend:

The other side of sunset

Moonrise

I love this house and would have gone closer but I was afraid there was someone with a shotgun in there.

I made my friend Snorie stop all over the highway so I could snag some pics.

Saturday night we were without wireless for about five hours. Now I know why it was so hard to troubleshoot.

Sunrise (yes I did manage to catch one)

A couple of firsts -

First time skiing,

first dentist visit,

first car race,

first time I realized you might be a better skater than me

and first sleepover!

First time sleeping in a tent.

It was a year full of change for you. We moved, you changed daycares twice, you started school, said goodbye to your best friend and had your beloved cousins move to India, all in the space of 4 months. There was a while there where we feared we broke you; where we were ready to turn back time and leave you in your lovely daycare, us in our little house, but then September came, you moved to your current daycare, started school and really hit your stride. I’m sorry we left you in that first new daycare for so long, we were afraid another sudden change would be too hard on you, when really the exclusion and kids’ verbal barbs were so much worse – if only we’d known.

Arts and crafts have to be your greatest passion, and quite frankly I’ve never seen an artist as prolific as you. Basing my assessment solely on the contents of your back-pack every day, I’d have to say you’re working very hard on developing your confetti cutting skills. Glueing is also a new favorite and you aren’t afraid to see just what will stick. We have so far been lucky that you’ve restricted your artistic endeavours to paper, let’s keep it that way for the upcoming year (yes, for the purposes of this letter I’m going to ignore the fact that you coloured your nose red with a dry-erase marker last night).

But just in case you do take to drawing on the walls, you’ve already acquired the skills to right your wrongs:

You have a great imagination and will spend hours playing with your dolls and stuffies, calling them your kids. You love playing teacher, or mommy and daddy. Sometimes I’ll sit in the office at the bottom of the stairs just listening to you go from room to room, calling one home, one work, one school. Drop the kids off, go to work, pick the kids up, have dinner, and repeat. Dressing up is still a favorite, my heels fascinate you and I love seeing you wear your extensive purse collection. Yes, all of them at once.

Ah the purse collection. The best part of these for me is that they weigh a tonne. Why you ask? Because they’re all stuffed with rocks. You can’t step foot outside the door without finding a new favorite, special one.

I love when you take an interest in my hobbies, and although I might drive you nuts with the camera, this fall your new favorite activity is to go on photo walks with me – you suggest it every time we head out for a walk. I’ll gladly turn any walk into a photowalk for you!

You love princesses and BeyBlades, you’ll karate chop us as soon as dance, you’ll help bake cookies and build furniture, your favorite TV shows are Cat in the Hat and Sid the Science Kid, and you know damn well that, ‘girls can like blue and boys can like pink, because there’s no such think as girl colours and boy colours’. When I measured you today you were 106cm, and your occupational goal was ‘princess’.

You have your dad’s sense of humour and will spend hours chasing him around like a maniac, or playing hide and seek. You love being scared and playing practical jokes, and your dad loves teaching you those jokes. Just make sure to keep running them by me first before trying them out at school, okay?

If you could talk us in to it, I’m sure we’d still be eating our meals out on the back deck. You love nothing more than a ploughman’s lunch, much to your father’s chagrin. I am glad that perhaps the only way you take after me is in your taste – you love sushi, ploughman’s, pho – I FINALLY have someone to eat with!

And I love your quirks. When you play in your room at night, you need to line up your books, laying them out in an even grid. Your stuffies are very neatly organized in classroom rows. You say ‘fink’ instead of ‘think’ and ‘a-cause’ instead of ‘because’ and hell to anyone that tries to correct you. Your temper is fierce and you’re not afraid to tell me, ‘mommy, that’s not nice!’ when I try to rush you. You still have never had a haircut, and kick and scream and put up a fight whenever we try to comb out your knotted hair, tossing out the ‘not nice’ judgements freely there too.

Since halloween you’ve developed a serious candy addiction, trying to cram one in your mouth whenever you find them. I really wouldn’t have noticed this except I just discovered you’ve been slowly eating all the candy off the gingerbread train you just built with Auntie Cole. And on a related note, you’ve started chewing gum!

I hope the summer sadness is gone from your heart sweetie, I want it filled with nothing but the happiness and joy of being a four year old. Enjoy the hell out of this year, my little goof ball.

Love,
mom

ps- apparently I wasn’t too tired to get mushy after all.

As the sister, mother and wife to December babies, I’ve picked up a thing or two over the years. I’ve attended, planned, and screwed up many celebrations and I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve put together a list of handy tips that will help you if you’re celebrating a December baby. Because let’s face it, winter birthdays suck in general but for these guys there are a couple of pretty big events scheduled around the same time, mostly stemming from ancient solstice celebrations and you want to make sure that the person you’re celebrating gets their special day too. (Just try finding a company to install 40 pink flamingos on your lawn on December 25th – I dare ya). I’ll add in here that I also get that there are some awesome advantages to December birthdays – people are generally in a giving and partying mood, the sales are great so there’s a ‘more bang for your buck’ factor, sometimes people feel sorry for you and over compensate, and let’s not even talk about June 1/2 birthday celebrations! But still, lines get blurred on occasion and we don’t want the birthday girl or boy to feel like an after-thought.

Let’s start off with a technicality. Anyone born before the solstice (Dec 22nd-ish) is a FALL baby. Anyone after – winter, so let’s call it the season of cold and dreary, and full of white stuff:

Birthday gifts go in birthday giftwrap: is it decorated with snowflakes that spell out ‘Happy Birthday’ – wrap that sucker up!
or is it images of snow-covered evergreens with twinkly lights - hope you didn’t pay extra for that

Let’s see what the goodies are: A lovingly selected, meaningful birthday present – Shred the paper
or a combo gift bought at the pre-Christmas boxing week sales that appear to take place the entire month of December – Keep the receipt

My favorite part – the cake: Is it decorated with their favorite superhero – Get in my belly
or to save time you picked up a yule log – food fight!

Oh, you remembered/made a card: Is it a Happy Birthday card with a pretty red cardinal sitting on a snowy branch – marginal (watch that red and green stuff) but YES
you cracked up at the Merry Birthday card - OH NO YOU DIDN’T. (The only exception to this is for someone actually born on December 25th and you’re only allowed to do this once in their lifetime – really it’s not that clever the billionth time)

Let’s talk decorations: you managed to eke out a room of the house not buried in tinsel, threw up some balloons, broke out the noisemakers and hung the Happy Birthday banner – Celebrate it sister (bonus points if it’s an early December birthday and you refrained from decorating until the celebrations are done, triple bonus points if it’s a mid-December birthday and you use it as an excuse to decorate at the last minute)
You threw a birthday hat on each of the reindeer in the life-sized sled display, that’s got to count for something right - yep, a lump of coal

Getting the hang of it yet? Before you pick out that holiday-themed birthday item, stop and consider if it would be odd to give it to someone whose birthday is in October. Or May. If the answer is yes, then don’t give it to the December baby either. Their birthday is their birthday. It’s not a Christmas birthday. Now go forth and celebrate!

“Both would need to be refinished, they are laminate over particle board, but I’m sure a DIYer would be able to figure something out”

And I received this reply:

“are u sure its not real wood?
could u recheck it and get back to me and let me know if it real wood or Not thks
only want real wood furniture”

Ignoring the ‘u’s and the ‘its’ and the random capitalization and strange line breaks and the everything else wrong (because there isn’t an internet licensing system YET)…no forget it, not ignoring those, I’m not sure if I should be more insulted that this person thinks I can’t tell the difference between real wood and laminate over particle board (I mean, ffs, why the hell would I say it was if it was actually real wood?) or that they expect me to hop to their command over some free (clearly damaged) crap treasures I’m giving away or that they think that passes as a reasonable message.

I’m sorely tempted to reply with either ’well then you don’t want this’ or ’nope, won’t be rechecking’ but that would be rude right?

Make me feel better – let me hear your snark.