Drew and I finished our shopping tonight and decided to stop at the McDonalds in Walmart to have a coffee before heading home. The only table available was a long bench connected by individual tables. We got our coffee and sat down. Drew across from me - me on the bench. Sitting on the bench next to me (at the next table) was an older woman...probably in her 70's. A well-groomed- looking good for her age -70's...but 70's non-the-less. She is sitting there all alone..when suddenly..this older (70ish) man approached her. He asked if he could sit with her. She politely replied that she was waiting for someone and was obviously not interested in making conversation with him. He smiled and took a seat (on the same bench) at the table next to her. It was quite obvious he was trying to score, and even more obvious as he tried to make conversation with her. But she continued to play hard to get. The conversation went on for a few minutes as he asked if she was from town and blah blah blah. Still this woman seemed disinterested in his advances and spoke very little back to him. Until finally he made a comment about her scarf... Him :"that's a pretty scarf you have on there. It brings out the color in your eyes" Her: a smile. "Thank-you that's nice of you to say" Him: pardon? Her: "I said, thank-you that's nice of you to say" Him:"Your Welcome"..(as he slides over on the bench and is now sitting next to her at the same table) Him: "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, I forgot my hearing aid, so I'll have to sit next to you" Her: "OH...ok" (extends hand)" Hi..my name is Mary" Drew: (whispers)..."Damn...70 years old and still got it."
We had the best baby playdate. I am so glad that I decided to split my playdates up into big kids for SkyWalker and babies for the Princess. It's working out really well. There are only a couple of other babies that come so it's a much calmer atmosphere than when there's a bunch of big kids running around. The Princess gets a little overwhelmed when that happens. She had the best time today. All three "babies" played with the water table and had the greatest time splashing each other and themselves. It didn't even matter that the Princess was the only girl... they all had a blast and so did we watching them! When SkyWalker wasn't whining about wanting to be pushed on the swing he enjoyed watching them play and I think he liked having the little jobber following him around. He looked like such a big boy and I got a little vision of what it would be like for him to have a little brother in addition to his sister. Although she's certainly no girlie-girl. SkyWalker whined a little bit and I always hate when that happens. I know that I just have to stand my ground and be firm and he'll be fine in a few minutes, but it's still just embarrassing when that happens when we have company.
by the Dr. Horrible bug. Go check it out: www.drhorrible.com
SQUEE!
We are picking Alex up tonight! He has been neutered, microchipped and vaccinated. We got him a portable crate/kennel thing he can hang out in, which will help with the housebreaking. My first goal is to teach him how to go up and down stairs.
One bit of bad news: they are still waiting for the results of his EKG for the heart murmur. The issue: there is apparently a Canada-wide shortage of veterinary graph paper due to a huge shipment being held up at some port or border crossing somewhere. So the vet can't print the test results to read them--crazy, no? Since it might take weeks to get the paper, we decided not to wait to adopt. From the X-ray and auscultation, the vet says it's a between a Grade 4 and 5 (out of a possible 6). So it's high, but the vet thinks it will be manageable with meds. But it's a bit of a risk. He could die tomorrow like he could live 10 more years. And because of all the tests and meds he needed, his adoption fee is quite high--$700. But Mr BA and I both feel like it's the right thing to do.
So, this first video I am posting for two reasons. The first is because these sock puppets are so darn cute I had to show them off (in essence, "tooting my own horn") and the second reason is because it's so cute, it'd be criminal NOT to share it.
Unless of course you are my son.
The jedi went to the dentist this morning. I got my usual lecture about flossing my teeth and gave my usual response of "ehnhhhnn" because there was a water thingy in my mouth. I think the spin brush I got is working though because she said I was doing better with the plaque. Yay. The Princess was fascinated and sat in my lap and let them look in her mouth about as well as she lets me do it and that was just fine. She didn't enjoy it or cooperate but she didn't freak out.
Is it really any surprise who did?
Vader was with us so I thought things would go better than last time. Nope. He sat in my lap while the dentist tried to look at his teeth. The only way he saw them was while SkyWalker was screaming. Tears in his eyes. Then the hygienist tried to clean his teeth. She was a very nice pretty blond and he was a little distracted but not enough. He let her put some paste on one tooth and that was it. It was pretty embarrassing. We're going to try again in 6 months. Hopefully the Princess will be better by the time she is his age. Although if she keeps seeing him crying and screaming maybe she won't be!
We attempted to put the kitchen set together. We, meaning SkyWalker and I. They left out the instructions but luckily I am a child of the internet so I found them. Unfortunately the internet cannot produce the nuts and washers and screws that they also left out. SkyWalker was very disappointed, as was I, but secretly I would rather Vader do it anyway. I'm not so good with the following of directions and the putting together of things.
Five minutes before I had to leave for work SkyWalker decided to lock himself and his sister in my bedroom. He's been locking doors lately but he always unlocks them rather quickly. He did not do that tonight. Later he said that he was hiding on me. Vader came home to find me banging on the door. He finally unlocked it when he heard his Daddy's voice. We opened it, knocked down the Princess who had been standing on the other side of the door (oops) and Vader threw SkyWalker in time-out immediately. So I got to leave for work with the Princess crying, SkyWalker crying AND begging me to just stay home with him. Good times. Yes, I know some moms would be glad to leave the house but not me. Even in the middle of chaos and crying, I would rather be there to comfort them when it's over.
Tonight I get to clean the guest bathroom when I get home from work. I decided there was no sense in doing it before because SkyWalker would just pee all over the toilet again anyway. Actually since my playdate is at noon tomorrow (it's for babies) maybe I'll wait until tomorrow morning.
Last week the Princess was down to one nap. This week? Two. AND today she missed her morning nap because of the dentist so I thought I'd get a nice long one out of her. Nope. She slept an hour and a half and was cranky later on. I tried to put her back down at 3:30 but she pooped in her crib and then just didn't want to sleep. Of course she was rubbing her eyes at 5 when I was leaving. I guess she still does need her morning nap. Although the dentist did say that her molars are coming in, so it may not matter what I do, she'll still be a mess. She used to be so consistent--awake for 2 hours, nap, awake for 2 hours, nap. Now she's all over the place.
I am hoping that we get a call tomorrow from the couch place saying that our new couches are in and ready for deliver next week. The couch was out of stock and they were expecting a shipment on Friday. I'm also hoping that the wallpaper guy I've been playing phone tag with calls me tomorrow. Although the conservative side of me says that we should just do everything ourselves, there is a big part of me that wants this done now and not in 2 years. Which is how long it would take Vader to do anything.
It's been 6 months today since my FIL died. Time flies huh?
I've come back to work to two surprises. One I knew was coming but didn't really think I'd see it... a vending machine in the staff room. This will good. And bad. The second I also knew was coming but didn't think I'd see it so soon... the director is resigning. Crazy days at the library.
I know I'm pretty strict about our sleep schedule. I let the kids stay up for the wedding but that's it. No 4th of July or New Year's Eve. No staying up late because we're out at a friends or at dinner or something like that. Which is why it constantly amazes me when I see people bringing their little kids in at 8:30. Dude! And you wonder why your kids are having a tantrum now? Could it be that they are supposed to be in bed? Hmmm....
I called the doc today to schedule the deflux for the Princess. Hopefully we'll get a call with the date soon. Hopefully it will not be on a day I work or my boss will hate me forever. I think he does things on Tuesdays though, so it should be okay.
I cannot wait until I am just working one night a week. I may actually see my husband during the week! Woo-hoo!
I think my brain might be officially fried.
Ahhh, the priceless deliciousness of days with small budding souls, one hungry for words and desperate to read, the other just plain hungry.
We had a bed-time cry-a-thon the other night. Big Brother outshone himself with the most incredible display of gracious Big Brotherliness:-
“Dada, I need to speak to Z,” he said, in earnest tones, mouth pulled into a matter-of-fact expression, hands gesturing wildly, palms upturned for extra effect. Then;
“Ssshhh, Z, go to sleep. That is the point. Then you can grow bigger, and bigger, and bigger, just like me. And then you can come to Mrs L’s class!”
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There is much talk of getting a kitten. I wonder if we’re insane. At bedtime last night he said “Daddy, I really want a kitten. Can you go downstairs and talk to Mummy about it, a little bit loudly.”
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Friends came to play today – 2 boys and a 9 month old baby sister. She sat on the carpet and played with baby toys, and both my boys were enthralled. “Baby!” shrieked the not-that-far-from-babyhood-himself one endlessly, stroking her head and tickling her feet. Big Brother cuddled and fussed around her, bringing her the best toys in the house, and cracking us up by calling her ‘sweetheart.’
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We abandoned naps today; one fell repeatedly into crying hysteria, convincing me once and for all that tantrums are mostly about kids not having enough sleep. The other passed out cold on the sofa with a chunk of apple in his mouth, and couldn’t be woken for love or money. When he eventually shocked himself awake by nearly slipping off the sofa, he looked momentarily startled before a look of surprised pleasure passed his face, and then he went right on chewing the piece of apple that had been squirreled away in a cheek while he napped. No wonder Nannie calls him squirrel chops. Cute though the nickname is, I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve had to tell Big Brother not to call other kids that, incase they don’t immediately get that it’s a term of endearment.
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I had a driving lesson that mostly consisted of 2 hours of chatting and gossiping with my instructor, and about ten minutes of actual instruction, most of which could be summed up as ‘Your driving’s fine and your last examiner was a meanie.’
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This evening we walked in the woods in the rain, enjoyed a two-way conversation with a sheep, and learned that wool is used to make socks and jumpers and blankets, and not milk as was originally thought. Tonight we sat by the fire and mused over the gate that is small, and the narrow way that few find but that leads to life. We burned our ticket to easy street, and wondered what it means to seek first the kingdom of God...? Then we drank tea and ate ginger nuts.
At the moment, the office is overrun with summer interns. Mostly first and second-year university students.
Some of the guys are so hot, it should be illegal.
I mean, they're ridiculously hot. Daayy-umm! Where were all these cuties when I was in university? There wasn't even one remotely hot guy in my whole program, and I never dated anyone from my school. Mind you, my college years did coincide with the truly unfortunate period of overlap between the late 80s mullet, the early 90s fade and the rise of grunge.
I feel like a Dirty Old Woman. Shame on me.
I don't know what is going on with stupid clichés in the news lately, but I've heard reference to "you can't be a little bit pregnant" 4 or 5 times over the past two days.
I think there are plenty of women who would disagree, plenty who have felt they were only "a little bit pregnant."
