So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye. I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye. Goodbye! —The Sound of Music
Just over three years ago, I was watching American Idol (you know, the good ole days when Simon Cowell was still there), and I was tweeting. Sending random (often snide) comments into the abyss we know as the Internet and hoping someone would respond.
Have you ever had that moment where your heart stops because you have no idea where your child is?
I remember shopping with Rebecca when she was little and, all of a sudden, she was nowhere to be seen. How did she disappear so fast?? I was frantic trying to find her, and then she poked her head out from the middle of one of the clothes racks. I was so relieved and so upset that I had let her out of my sight.
Remember when our dog moved out? I told you we would have visitation rights, didn’t I? Well I have a pooch update for you.
Recently, we spent four days up north visiting Angus, and (of course) our extended family. I am happy to report that Angus might be the happiest dog EVER!
The dinner table is such an intimate setting for conversation. I love sitting down with my family and learning about their day. As you know, kids don’t often offer up a great deal about their day. The question “What did you do today?” is often met with the reply “Nothing.”
So, my husband and I have adopted a tradition from my brother-in-law. Once dinner is on the table, and we are all settled in our seats, we go around the table and each person tells us their best and their worst thing that happened during the day.
I have said all along, I would have ten more babies if I could guarantee they were as well behaved as our youngest. To which my husband has always responded “Are you F**king crazy?” There may also have been mention of a one-way ticket to Mexico.
It’s true though. She is very independent. She loves to play on her own, and makes no qualms about letting people know when she doesn’t want to be picked up or fussed over. Eleanor has received many straight arms to the face when trying to hug her at unwanted intervals.
I recently went to the #YMCTea tweet up held by Gav Martell at the Fairmont Royal York, where I had the pleasure of meeting some awesome Yummy Mummies and learning about tea. I happen to be a tea toting granny-type, so this was right up my alley.
I have always wanted to attend high tea at the Royal York, mostly because I love scones and cream, but also because IT’S THE ROYAL YORK!
I have written before about how crazy my ex’s schedule is, and how we work around his schedule to accommodate visitation. So, he has been doing his best to come visit regularly, but sometimes that means he only has a few hours with Rebecca.
So, rather than driving her back and forth (an hour each way), he has been doing his visiting at our house. I know, for some people, this would be awkward, but I am happy to say that Keith has a great relationship with our whole family.
Our girls love to make money. Our son likes to get money, and does do chores for money, but would like to put as little effort into earning his wage as possible. Also, once he has money, there is no way he’s giving it up. The girls, on the other hand, want to make money and spend it or give to it to charity.
When I switched jobs, I was very excited about being home to have dinners with my family again. I was even excited about cooking meals. That honeymoon has come to an end, and I am already scratching my head wondering what to make each evening.
Right now, with all the sports seasons overlapping, we are very busy. We have two or three activities to go to almost every night. Eleanor has swimming 4 times a week. Ethan has hockey tryouts, football and swimming. Rebecca has gymnastics, swimming and dance. And soccer season is only a couple of weeks away.
Even Siobhan (who turns 2 this weekend—2 days after Rebecca turns 7!), is taking gymnastics and swimming.
I am one of those people who never carries cash. I pay for almost everything with my debit card. Thankfully, most establishments are set up with debit machines, so it’s rarely a problem…except on those fun occasions when you park in an underground parking lot and have to pay with nickels and dimes that you find under your car seat because there is no way you are going all the way back to street level to the bank machine. Not that I’ve ever experienced that—often.
Recently, I wrote about TextPlus, a scare we had, and how TextPlus handled it. It made me realize how easy it is for people (strangers) to get in touch with our kids, and it put me on edge with regards to the freedoms I allow our 12-year-old.
There are so many things that I love about Facebook. I love that I have connected with old friends, and that I can see pictures of them and their families. I love sharing what my family is up to, even when that means the next time I see someone they know everything about us. I especially love my friend David’s Odd Question of the Day that has me trying to decide things like whether I would like a time machine or an easy button…I went with the easy button.
Now that I am working from home, Facebook is also my water cooler, so I love the funny comments and witty banter.
My last post was about our daughter using textPlus. It was a very scary incident, and I was concerned about her poor decisions. I was also trying to understand how a stranger could get in touch with her, especially since she claimed not to have created a textPlus account.
As parents, we naturally worry about the safety of our children. As they get older, it seems there is more to worry about. I suppose that’s because as they get older, they are allowed to do more.
Our oldest is 12 and has her own cell phone, so that we can be in touch with her when she goes out with friends. She has her own computer and we set up a Facebook page for her.
I will give you fair warning, right now, I am about to go on a rant!
If you have never had problems breast feeding, fantastic for you. If you breast fed your babies till they were 1, 2, 3, 4 years old, great! I am tremendously happy for you, BUT I would appreciate if you tried to understand the flip side of the coin.
I grew up with red hair and freckles—before red hair and freckles were all the rage. I got teased.
I got called carrot top, ginger, freckle face and even Red Headed Woodpecker (you know who you are). That one came with a song, it went like this: Red Headed Woodpecker pecka pecka peck. Sing it to whatever tune you like, he wasn’t exactly a musical talent, just a pain-in-the-butt boy.
I have spent the last week with a perma-smile. I just can’t shake it. Not that I really want to, but how smug is that?
Every time I talk about quitting my job, or someone congratulates me, I am grinning ear to ear. My boss must think that I hated my job just by how much I love that I have quit. I will say this though, my boss has been great about it.
