Sunday, 30 March 2014

Sunday Funday

(Alternate title:  Free snails!)

Quick update on a fun day today:  We woke up to see a TON more snow.  Boo, hiss, etc.

But, as I had really only made 5 snowmen this year, and all of them were about 12 inches high, I decided that maybe, just maybe, winter was waiting for me to make a nice, big snowman before it went away for, oh, 4 months or so.

Tamsin was still napping, so out we went.  I made the bottom, Vaughn rolled the middle, and Ailsa made the head.  We all gathered pinecones for the eyes and smile, and Ailsa had the honour of stabbing it in the face with a carrot poking the nose in.  Tadah!  Below, the kids pose, proudly, with their creation.

I went inside, brought Tamsin down for her snack, and made a tasty cilantro soup while the kids continued to frolic with their frosty new friend.  A while later, I called them in. 

"Where's the snowman?" I asked.  He wasn't standing where I had left him.

They pretended not to hear me.

(Did anyone else get cold chills?)

As for the aforementioned snail, Scuba Gooding, Jr. (the second) has been creating algae in his tank lately.  We went to St. Laurent to pick up something to help that this morning, and the woman at the pet store recommended a plectra.  "But we're out, so how about a snail?"

We picked out a snail, which the kids immediately christened "Snaily", and I reached for my wallet... uh oh.  She slid the water-filled bag towards me and said, "Pay me later.  I trust you."

DING DING DING - free snails at St. Laurent!

Just kidding.  We drove home, I got my wallet, and we went back.  She actually looked surprised when I showed up with the $3.50.

"What happens if he doesn't make it?" I asked.  "Is there a 7-day guarantee on snails?"

"No," she said.  "But if he doesn't live for a full week, your next one is 50% off."


So, Scuba now has an Odd-Couple-esque sidekick, who is a compulsive cleaner... now that he's come out of his shell, if you will.  He didn't move for a nervewracking 7 hours, and I was all set to go pick out a $1.75 replacement in the morning, but he's up and running like a Dyson.

I managed to talk the kids out of "Snaily", but at a cost:  I present to you "Divey" the snail.  Last name:  Jones, of course.  Ba-dum.

Saturday, 29 March 2014

Fools and children

Well, it's my fault for being vain, I suppose.  My ego had a serious check yesterday when I was getting ready to go out for the day with Ailsa.

I put on my sunscreen first, and she ran over, asking for whiskers.  Whiskers are kind of a big deal in our house, and fairly often, one or all of the kids have them painted on their cheeks.  On extra-special days, they also have little red kitty noses.  (Perhaps this is why the littlest one meows so much.)  But I digress.

So, I'm pulling out the eyeshadow, and Ailsa asks me, "What is that for?"

"Well, Mommy is silly and vain, but I'll show you," I said, and decided to do one eye at a time, to show her the amazing and incredible transformation that makeup effects on me.

I started with a shimmery beige shadow, and closed one eye.

"Why does your eye go all scrinchy?"

"Um, I closed it, and it..."

"No, Mommy, it's still all scrinchy," which I sensed is a pre-schooler's word for wrinkled and/or crone-like.

Moving on.  I pulled out the accent colour for the crease, to increase definition and make my eyes look bigger.

"It still looks wrinkly."

Deep breath.  I grabbed a brown eyeliner.

"That makes your eye look dirty."

At this point, my fists are clenched.


"Can I have some?"

"No, it makes your eyelashes look all dark, and you already have lovely dark eyelashes."  I finished up the one eye and I looked at her.  "Can you see the difference between my two eyes?"

"No.  Can I have whiskers?"


Serves me right for thinking well of myself.  Sigh.

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

Oh, blarg.

Last night, I went out to spend my four years of accumulated wealth /gift cards at lululemon (thanks, Ryan!)… it would have been amazing, but I had a bit of an existential crisis (only partially kickstarted by the unflattering lighting in the dressing room) and only bought a pair of comfy (yet awesome) pants (which need hemming but have a drawstring at the bottom), a top (still at store, getting hemmed so that it’s not a dress) and a $12 hairband… and I still have $78 left! 

Note: hairbands don’t work on me, as they always squick-ptoing off the back of my head, but this one held up for 130 burpees/pushups/and situps. 

Starting at 9:20 pm, after the shopping spree. 


Let’s start with that: for no good reason, I’m participating in a challenge to do 10,000 burpees, pushups and situps by May 12.  At the beginning, the math showed me that I would have to do 112/day to make it. Not bad, I thought. But when you factor in the “every day” part, it gets a lot harder, fast. Some days I only do 30. Some days I do 130 – depends on how I feel, where I am, and what I have going on. The math currently has me needing 116/day. I do try to make time, however, for the daily “I hate you” email to Sean, who laid down the challenge in the first place.  Needless to say, my gym time has been substantially reduced, as I need to also be able to teach my class without getting injured. 

Early observations, aside from “Sean Sucks,”* are that boy, 100 situps a day sure do make my abs look good.  If I keep this up after May 12, I’ll have a six-pack for the rest of my life!** Also, the burpees, even spaced out in increments of 10, 15, or 20, sure have an impact on my metabolism!  Unfortunately, the lack of extra weight training means that I feel slimmer, but not really tighter. Anyway, the takehome is that I am obviously insane, as there is really no reason to be doing this, and that Sean sucks. 

The rest of my annual crisis (which, if you know me, is late – it usually hits in February) consists of trying not to think about everything else that I am juggling right now.  A soul sucking job that is beneath me but that is wonderfully flexible and considerate of my fragile state.  A house that is aggressively entropic managing to stay clean and neat with the help of my Very Serious Scheduling and wonderful nanny.  Three children, whom I love and... love and love, despite the fact that they drive me crazy 95% of the time, and whom I feel so guilty for not being with all the time and also for not wanting to be with them most some of the time.  Not enough sleep, ever.  No time for just me, ever.  And, against all better judgement, I dyed my hair to "brighten it up".  To (probably misquote) Cathy Guisewite, "May I assume that I don't look like the woman on the box?"  No, no I don't.  Also, I have to take the car in for service.  I have to paint the basement stairs.  I have to keep clearing out the garage.  I have to post our condo on kijiji.  I have to do my nails.  I have to prepare for my Attack class.  I have to make healthy meals and pack lunches and drink more water and do laundry and be a grownup, when all I want to do is to go to bed for two weeks, and wake up to spring!  Preferably on a beach somewhere.  Drunk.

Chris and I had a text conversation this morning, in which I told him that I needed either a time machine or a limitless bank account to make me feel ok about the morning I'd had. 

Limitless? he asked.  Well, I need a personal assistant, a maid, a cook, all new clothes, a live-in nanny, plastic surgery, a chauffeur, and spa treatments.  And a pool boy.

And a pool?  he asked.

What?  Why would I need a pool?  

* My only consolation is that he is also in pushup hell. 

** Expectation that I will still do 100/day after May 12: zero. Expectation that I will do 20/day after May 12: also zero.