July 29, 2014

And The Shower Amnesia Set In, And All Was Lost

You know that feeling you have in the shower sometimes, when you finish shaving your legs or whatever, and you realize that - although [feeling around] it seems as though you've washed everything you always wash in the shower - you have no memory of having done so? Or instead of following the everyday groove of Shampoo, Conditioner, Face, Armpits, Ladybits, Shave Legs, Rinse you skip inexplicably through Shampoo, Conditioner, Legs, Shamp-- before the needle scratches and you wonder where on earth your head's at?

And then you realize that Shower Amnesia has crept soundlessly into other (unrelated) areas of your life? Like when you're on the way out the door and smell A Smell - one that you recognize by virtue of the fact that you have three kids under six who still occasionally wet themselves...only none of them are around. And you remember pulling your pants out of the dryer not half an hour ago, and - hopefully - would have noticed peeing yourself.

And you start to unravel the path you travelled to get to where you were, smelling vaguely pissy, keys in hand, at your front door with no time to change, and you remember moving the wet wash to the dryer, and you remember loading the washing machine with dirty clothes in the first place, but what you don't remember is putting soap in? And then you sniff at your own pants like a weirdo, hoping against hope that you're just suffering from Laundry Amnesia, and that of course you put soap in the washer because you always do, right after closing the door and before turning it on? And then you realize that there's no way on earth your pants would smell like they had been washed in pee and then dried at high heat unless they actually, in fact, were?

And then you go out anyway, because:
          A) Who has time to change? and
          B) Who has more than one pair of pants that fit? 


July 28, 2014

Seven Months in Seven Words and Two Footnotes


Two and Three
Leaky roof.

Four and Five
Insurance claim.




*In every room of the house, plus some rooms we didn't know we had.
**(Freshly) dead. In the wall.



January 13, 2014

2013 In Review

What, you thought I gave up and faded quietly away, after last year's December conclusion that was in no way a conclusion?

You thought wrong, brotha: I've just been too busy being Mega Successful In Every Way to bother with blogging. Or cleaning, laundry-doing, cooking, and generally being an acceptable human being. Also, "Mega Successful" might possibly be the teensiest-tiniest overstatement of fact, but "modestly adequate" doesn't sell the doughnuts, now, does it?

Enough of this pleasant banter. To business*! What the hell I've been doing with my time business!

--Lucy The Goose--

This one hasn't shut up since approximately July, when she learned the tune and syllable count of every children's song ever, and began belting them out at the top of her piping little baby voice with only occasional word placement success. My favourites so far are "Ginkle, Ginkle, Little Stah" and "Fosty Da Doughman", although her "Deedus Luf Meee" is improving daily.

Should she get herself worked up into a lather - and, having been born with a more than average endowment of Personality, she will - all you need to do to push her back into a state of innocent wonder and excitement is to whisper "brush your teeth" in her ear.


She's also figured out books, and will greet you at the door with "Don't Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus", shoving it at you until you drop everything to pick her up and read it. If I died in the middle of the day, Seth would come home from work to find Lucy bellowing "Pigeon?! PIGEON!" into my dead face while prying open my cold, unresponsive hand and trying to close it over the book.

--Oscar Baggins--

This one is growing into his true hobbit heritage more and more, and has taken to exclaiming like a querulous old man whenever anything goes wrong. Dropped a toy behind the couch? "Oh no, oh no. What will I do now?" Hit his head on the train table? "Ooooh, no. Ooooooh, nooo."

I didn't think it was possible, but he walks Norah to school even slower than he used to. He still comes to a full stop to say anything, but has managed to master walking and breathing, so at least there's that.

His big accomplishment over the year? Learning to wink. This kid winks with his whole body, and it's a sight to see.

Trust me, this only a meagre sampling of both the awesomeness that is Oscar winking, and my attempts to document it. Seth's informal count is that one in five of the pictures I took this year was of Oscar winking.

--Norah, the Budding Nerd--

This one can read. And write. And come downstairs in the morning with body parts labelled and - conveniently, I suppose, depending on how macabre your imagination runs - numbered, too. So no more writing implements in bed? Right.

Did I mention reading? I did, didn't I? I have high hopes of turning out a kid who will bring books to school, who will cheer (quietly) when the teacher announces that it's free reading time, who will stay up past bedtime to sneakily read more books, who will - when finally called away from a book to eat - will surface groggily from another world like she's been at the bottom of the ocean for the last hour, and who will rather read on a Friday night than to out with all the silly kids. An honest-to-God bookworm, that's what I'm pulling for.

In the meantime, she's becoming her mother in more than one way:

(And it's not just the eye-catching money-rug, either. That's my nightgown, my sheets, and my Little Ballerina book. Nerdliness is very, very catching.)

Cumulatively, our children watched 4,327 episodes of Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends in 2013. Or else the entire twelve episodes that comprise the show 360.5 times.

It's made a (slight) impact.

Seth and I can only describe 2013 as The Year of Who, during which we managed to watch the entire modern canon, despite having more than one job each, three children, a house that only very recently started cleaning itself (or something), and stupid bodies that need to sleep and eat and poop, etc. What's that they say? Nobody's more zealous than a recent convert? Yeah. That.

Last year, I baked bread approximately never, hung my clothes out to dry once (Labour Day), didn't even glance in the direction of a coupon, and didn't get pregnant. It was a banner year. I enjoyed it immensely, but will probably re-institute the bread and clothesline.

Me and coupons? We're through. Me and babies? Through, but without the triumphant feeling that kicking coupons to the curb gives me. I love my babies, but I'm ready to say goodbye to diapers forever, goodbye to booster chairs, goodbye to five-point harness safety seats, and goodbye to bibs, cribs, and nimmies, and hello to kids who can wipe themselves, put on their own shoes, and get kicked out to play in the backyard by themselves so Mommy Can Think in Peace.

2014 is the year of spreadsheets, one last kick at the potty-training can, and Oscar heading off to school. It's the year - so help me, but it's happening come hell or some height of water - Seth and I head to Stratford (again) alone (again) for a two day debauch of food and wine and - ahem - "alone time". It's the year in which I connect a little better with dear friends. and write a little more haphazardly both here and on That Other Blog as I find some kind of equilibrium between life and work and Mt. Laundry.

2014 is also the year in which I received this in the mail.

So we're starting off on the right foot, yeah? I think it's a friendly reminder to give Leslie her pants back.

*Simian business, that is. None of that other stuff here. This here's a 100% business free Cone of Nonsense guaranteed site. I think I have that site badge around here somewhere...

November 25, 2013


Am avoiding internet. Doctor Who 50th anniversary special is on my DVR right now, and I can't watch it until tonight.

In other News You Care About, Dawn needs to send me an email sandi[at]themrs.ca because she's getting one of these:

Hooray for random comments about corsets!

Someday I'll be normal, I promise.

November 20, 2013

Think Again

If you think this is morphing into some kind of gong show, where I post on Wednesday afternoons instead of Monday mornings, you're wrong.

It's the kind of gong show where I post whenever I want because because.

Also: I did TOO write this week. I just happened to write over at Rebecca's. So there.

Housekeeping: I don't respond to comments until days later because...because (sounds like a theme). Please keep saying things at me. It makes me feel less like a hermit who lives with other people and interacts with humans on a daily basis but still feels the hermit title is valid because sometimes she feels alone inside her brain where all the funny stuff lives and appreciates when other people get the joke even if it is only about Rafflecopter I'm looking at you Kristen.

(Takes breath)

Sorry if this is your first time here but I swear I'm never like this and make total sense all the time this is pretty much it.

November 13, 2013

We interrupt this week...

I know what you're thinking. "It ain't Monday, and I've already had my fill of The Mrs for this week."

Consider this extra post my little gift to you from a week that keeps on giving (...Lucy, Oscar, and me the flu, plus a report deadline that is kicking my ass in the teeth...or something.)

My dear friend Lindsay - you might have heard of her? I mention her a lot, and used to have an ad for Inklings Paperie on the sidebar until the ad servicing company stopped being free, like jerks. My laziness/unholy amount of work has prevented me from replacing it on my own, among seventy billion other pieces of Blog Maintenance I Haven't Done.

You might remember her shower games and gender reveal scratch-offs from this post, or her sweet scratch-off lunch box notes from this post, and today - on this thoroughly unremarkable Wednesday - she's got something else to show you.

She's submitting an entry into uncommongoods.com's "Dream Big. Start Small." contest...and it's adorable. Look! A baby!

Correction: She's not submitting a baby to the contest. That would be wrong.

It's the onesie design she's submitting, and - as is the case with ALL ONLINE CONTESTS EVAH, she needs some votes. Just votes, nothing fancy.

Iffen you vote (that's the flu drugs talking), you will have chance to get the baby the onesie a Wishes for Baby shower activity/keepsake set.

And, because I love to making things into "entice more people to find The Mrs and I'll buy you with prizes" contests, I'm abandoning the ubiquitous Rafflecopter entries. Which means if you want to vote, and want to be entered to win the Wishes for Baby set - which is oh, so cute! - you need to leave a comment on The Mrs Facebook page about anything, really. Doctor Who. Bananas. Homemade corsets. Ponies. I don't care. In fact, the more ridiculous the better, even though I'm selecting a winner at random, because THIS LADY NEEDS A LAUGH. (Points at herself.)

Voting is here, and runs today until midnight on November 19th. Go forth!

(portentous voice) I shall announce the winner next Wednesday.

November 11, 2013

We survived. Barely.

Seth is back after a four-day trip away. I am swooning on the fainting couch, hand dramatically on my forehead, being a martyr, and expecting big things this week in recompense.

One one of these things is true.

(I'm glad to have him back. I kinda like him.)