Showing posts from November, 2011

They Don't Call it a "Mom Blog" for Nothing

Well ladies, I'm finally back and I've got something to brag about! All girls love receiving jewellery, right? Even the most serious marriage-eschewing feminist wouldn't say no to a nice string of pearls, or a diamond-encrusted brooch. It's in our DNA! So today, when a very important man in my life came home with a little something sparkly for me, I was obviously thrilled. I've been wearing it all day: Yeah, that's right. RB made this beaded masterpiece for me in nursery school today. And it's one of a kind, so don't even think about trying to score one for yourself. In all seriousness, considering the state of his fine motor skills a year ago, this is something special indeed! I'll be wearing it with this chic accompaniment: Firstborn made this bracelet for me for Mother's Day 2009. The instructions were to pick beads in Mom's favourite colours. But since Firstborn didn't know my favourite colours, he went with the most li

Satellite TV

I commit to writing two posts a week, and suddenly blog fodder is falling from the sky! And I mean that literally. Last week, after eight years without any paid-for TV and two years without any TV at all (we gave up after RB broke his fourth set of rabbit ears), the Captain finally took the plunge and got us satellite TV. And it turned out to be an awful lot more exciting than I could have imagined. We had two people here working with RB, and the satellite guy turned up just after lunch. He was about 70, but he knew far more about the whole thing than I did, so I was hardly going to argue. Off up the ladder he went and got to work installing the dish, and I busied myself cleaning the kitchen. About halfway through the installation, I heard a thump and one of the girls in the living room suddenly yelled "CALL 911! HE'S FALLEN OFF THE ROOF!" Are you frickin' kidding me?! I grabbed the phone, dialed 911 and got...A RECORDED MESSAGE! Oh. My. God. I was kept on

How To Keep That Poppy On

For years I have worn a poppy in early November to observe Remembrance Day. And for years, I have looked down several times each November to find that the poppy has fallen off my coat. From what I can gather, a lot of people have this problem. A year or two ago, someone taught me an easy trick to eliminate the need to keep running back off to the store to buy another one, so if you already know this trick, forgive me for stating the obvious. But just in case a few of you out there don't know it, I'm going to share it with you. When you pin your poppy on this year (on your left side--just a reminder), pull the pin back a little once it's attached to your coat and stick it through the side or bottom edge of the red part from the underside. Does my explanation make sense? If not, look at the picture. It's pretty self-explanatory. You'll notice I have my poppy pinned to my leather jacket. On Friday, when I attend my local Remembrance Day service, I'll pin it

Someone Hold Me Back!

I love my husband. I do. But over the years he has done a really thorough job of sucking the joy out of gift-giving for me. To begin with, he is a man. As such, he is already impossible to buy for. Add to that the fact that the few things he is interested in--electronics, tools, coffee--he generally just buys for himself as and when he needs them. When he does want something, the thing that he wants is so specific, it almost guarantees that if I try to buy it for him, I'll screw it up. Around Christmas 2006, we were just getting into the whole mp3 thing. The Captain had been away (as usual) all fall, so he hadn't had a chance to get online and do his requisite 60 hours of research into the matter, so out I went and got him what I figured was a decent deal on a new mp3 player. I was pleased with myself, and when he opened it on Christmas morning, he seemed perfectly happy with it too. It was a blissful 24 hours before he came to me, told me enthusiastically that he'd foun

Passport Photo

It occurred to me a while back that my passport had expired. This made me nervous. I like that secure feeling you get when you know that, no matter what happens, you can always leave the country. I went about the rather lengthy business of filling out new paperwork and then off I went to the mall to have my picture taken. My last passport photo was, if not flattering, at least a fair representation of what I look like, minus glasses. So having my picture taken this time didn't seem like too big a deal. Until I got it back. At first I thought they'd given me the wrong picture. The woman in it looked like she'd been picked up for robbing a 7-Eleven to support her Twinkie addiction and was trying to look remorseful for her mug shot. But since I could hardly go back and ask them to retake the picture because I didn't feel I looked pretty enough, I stuffed the photos in my purse and convinced myself I was being overly critical. No one likes how they look in pictures, rig

It's November?!

Is anyone else wondering where 2011 went? I'm still kind of reeling that last night was Halloween already. We always go out with our neighbours and it makes it extra fun for everyone. The kids like having some friends to run around with, and I like having another adult present to keep me sane! Here's a shot of my boys before we headed out: As you can clearly see, Lord Voldemort teamed up with the local fire chief for a bit of trick-or-treating. An odd pairing, I have to admit. Someone should've told Firstborn to look more evil. That grin made him look more like Uncle Fester than the dark lord, and he was wearing it all night. Luckily, I thought ahead and made him that Slytherin patch so people knew not to hold back on the candy, lest they fall victim to the Cruciatus Curse . This is it, people. My blogging has hit an all-time low this year, and now it's November. I'm officially committing to two posts a week from now on to ease myself back in. If I don't