why you are probably a better parent than me.....

For all appearances it looks like the picture of sibling devotion, no? A big brother sitting next to his little sister, patiently enduring websites that can only appeal to 6 year old girls. What the picture doesn't show is that on this particular occasion, the awesome big brother happens to be playing on the Webkinz site. It also doesn't show that he has just entered the code from a brand new Webkinz toy belonging to an absent party and has named the resulting cyber kitty "Sticky-Head". Because this is only a photo on a blog you don't hear the resulting screaming, yelling and general sense of woe coming from the owner of the Webkinz account. Apparently the creators of Webkinz did not take into account things like the devious nature of older brothers and once named these pets cannot be re-named (unlike real life kittens who can go from Stripey to Alienfishcat to Olivia). I'd love to tell you that I did my job as a good mother, reprimanded the offending party and fixed everything for the individual who has been so profoundly wronged but for some as soon as I start talking, it all seems kind of funny and by the time I get to the word "Sticky-Head" I'm laughing too hard. Word of advise to those considering becoming parents, laughing is NOT the appropriate action in this instance and will only makes things worse. It will make you seem just as guilty as the perpetrator of the injustice and you will immediately get the title of "worst mom ever". But, by this time, it won't be the first time that you've worn that particular title and you know that it is fleeting and so you will probably continue to giggle and plan to make amends once the dust settles a little. On that note, I guess I'd better go and drop another dollar in the kids' future therapy fund.

some colourful genetics

My girls are not what anyone would call wallflowers. The louder and brighter, the better. Throughout their younger years all writing utensils had to be kept up and out of sight. Should a wayward maker fall into the wrong hands, the following havoc was certain to ensue:

All we need to make the previous photo set complete is one of my grade 7 photos, proving that maybe they come by their heavy handed and colourful technique a little too honestly.

We are only part way into the month of July and already my older two kids are fighting incessantly.....over stupid things like who learned to tie their shoes the youngest and how this "prodigious" behaviour somehow entitles them to a higher plane of intelligence. While this heated debate was going on, my now 3 year old was sitting between them looking at one, then the other and singing "NaNa Na Na NaNa.....you are stupid....." When I prayed for patience, I didn't mean that I wanted the virtue beaten into me. It's going to be a long long summer.

Tenacity, resilience and other big words

You've got to admire the fortitude of little kids. They have this insane ability to take whatever abuse life throws at them and keep on going without ever thinking of quitting. They rarely complain or ask "why me and not the other guy?" They simply deal and move on. This ability seems to be inversely related to ones age and decreases steadily as you get older.


Case in point, Keirnan, who although he possesses a definite knack for written prose and an uncanny ability to remember even the most obscure details about things such as the mating rituals of the komodo dragon, will never ever have a future in ballet, ninja-ing or anything requiring stealth or grace. It might have something to do with the fact that he is quickly approaching that gawky and awkward phase of preadolescence where his body is growing faster than his brain has realized or maybe he just has big feet with really heavy bones. I don't know. In either case, his stomping throughout the house once in a while results in stubbed toes and bruised knee caps. When this happens, the resulting tirade is one of "Why does this always happen to me!" and "I hate this house!!" "The house is out to get me!!" etc. etc. Although humorous, it's kind of tiring as I have to continually reinforce the message that because the house will probably not be changing any time soon, perhaps Keirnan, himself, should be the one to do some modifications to the way he navigates the dangerous terrain.



Tatyanna on the other hand will sometimes fall more times in an afternoon than I can count. Her shins are perpetually bruised and if she is going through a bad spell, kind of looks like we beat her with a stick. To be truthful, I don't know how she does it. She gets back up every time and just keeps on going. She was carrying and armful of her stuffed ponies across the living room earlier today (all of whom were named white, only one of whom was even partially white) I could see the seizure coming but given my location could only watch as she went down, dropping the ponies everywhere. Within a couple of seconds it was over, she was back on her feet, looking around with a frustrated expression. When asked if she was OK, her reply was simply to sigh and say "My horse, he falled down...again..." and then she was off to gather up the wayward ponies and continue with her game.

I've got to admit that if I were to hit the floor 50 times in a day or drop my food every time I got the the loaded fork anywhere near my mouth I'd probably stay in bed.

Things retrieved from my oven in the last 48 hours:

-countless tea towels and dish clothes
-partial loaf of breed
-milk bones
-plush pony, complete with saddle
-several plates
-partial bag of carrots, many of which have been "tasted"
-underwear; purple, with a Dora logo
-fleece hoodie
-spoons
-bowl of dog food
-Thomas the tank engine

Needless to say that we have to do some reconnaissance prior to preheating. Yes, we did learn this one the hard way.


New Year's/Christmas/Year in Review to come.....once I have time to upload some photos and finish it.

death to microsoft.....or is it just karma?

Remember the post I made about a certain two zealous and protective parents who lovingly prescreened their son's present to ensure that disappointment and mayhem were not part of the Christmas morning proceedings? Those same two parents turned on the Xbox on Sunday night after the kids were in bed, not to play some GH3 because that would be wrong as the game had already been prescreened, but rather some other shoot the enemy sort of military game, and found that the Xbox no longer works. Or rather, is undergoing some sort of highly inconvenient identity crisis. The Xbox360 now believes that it is a CD player. It plays audio CD's and that is all. If you put a game in, the helpful message reads "This is an Xbox 360 disc, to play this disc use an Xbox 360 console" It does the same thing for movies. There are no " red rings of death" or broken pieces, no smoke or grinding sounds, just a confused Xbox which for all outward appearances should work. This irritates me greatly for two reasons. The first being that the machine is less than a year old. It was last year's Christmas present. The second being that Christmas morning just got a little more awkward. Games with no console to play them on is never a good thing. I'm now thinking that perhaps we should have taken the risk of letting the kids open their presents without checking them out first. Trent was in the military, he knows karate, he could have taken the convicts if there were any. Besides, they'd have been so hungry after sitting under a tree for several weeks we probably could have bribed them with Santa's leftover eggnog and cookies. It's Christmas after all, even escaped convicts need Christmas....right?

Tatyanna goes for her MRI tomorrow. We have spent 4 months waiting for an MRI that was listed as urgent. Nice.

This past weekend, Trent and I sunk to all new parenting lows. We actually opened our child's Christmas present while he was away for the weekend and played with it. I'd love to tell you that I feel guilty but given the stress we are under (that I may at some point feel like putting into words) I felt that we needed to do something to lighten things up a little. Guitar Hero III was just the trick. My brothers have both assured me that "prescreening" is always acceptable as a parent. Finding broken toys.....or a box full of escaped convict little people is never a good thing on Christmas morning and only sets you up for a lifetime of therapy bills. And who wants that really? There are a multitude of other incidents that I will no doubt be forking over good money to the local psychologist for. This was just one little thing that I could do to help ensure my child's well being......right???

18 lbs. In just a couple of hours, the kids managed to collect 18 lbs of sugary goodness. I'd love to tell you that I was kidding or maybe even exaggerating just a little, but out of a sick sense of curiosity I put all the loot in garbage bag and tossed it on the bathroom scale. This particular scale also weighs in on the light side, but I keep it around because it makes me feel better. So in actuality, we probably have more like 20 lbs of candy. Lexi weighs 20 lbs. How does one even begin to hide that much candy? And I will hide it, you can be assured of that. The thought of 4 kids bouncing "snitch" like off the walls doesn't really hold much appeal for me. They were a little disappointed to hear that I wouldn't be using this as an exercise to teach them some self control. Right, good try though guys!

You know you need a night out when....

-the only peaceful cup of coffee you have is in the bathtub...with your two younger kids and a collection of floating farm animals

-you actually take your two year old out wearing a plush unicorn costume....with wings...because at least it means she's finally wearing something

-you find yourself saying things like: "I'm sorry that you flushed Pooh (as in Winnie) down the toilet but he's not coming back"
"I know you're being very gentle but I don't think the puppy likes it when you pet him with the hammer"
"The rule in this house is no hitting but if you're determined to beat the crap out of each other...do it civilly...the swords are on the mantle"

More life lessons......

5. The day you work really hard cleaning the house and doing laundry and dealing with cranky and children and are so tired that you can't wait to crawl into bed somewhere in the early hours of the morning is also the day that you find that your child, who has fallen asleep in your bed, has also peed all over your favourite comfy sheets.

the dog days of summer....

Perhaps it was a combination of heat and stress finally causing my brain to crumble in on itself thus rendering any sort of logical thought process obsolete. Perhaps it was a sense of guilt on my husbands part that caused him to agree so quickly. It might have been the fact that the moment we arrived at the farm we were instantly greeted by swarm of wiggling puppies, each of them looking up at us with their liquid puppy eyes and a sense of expectation of fun things to come. Up until that moment Trent and I thought that we were "just looking"....that we would be able to drive away empty handed if we so desired. But one look at Tatyanna, sitting in the dirt surrounded by a mass of black and white fur and we knew that our immediate future would involve sleepless nights, ruined shoes and shouts of "NO!!! OUTSIDE!!" followed by a hasty mopping up of whatever mess was left behind. As she sat there, the look of awe and the sparkle in her eye was reminiscent of a little girl that I haven't seen in quite some time and miss dearly. How could we say "no" really?

Unfortunately when we asked what she thought, her answer was "2 puppies!!!" and we left the farm 2 dogs richer with that vague feeling of "what did we just get ourselves into??"

Since then, life has settled down once more into its usual state of elevated chaos. The older two weren't upset that we took the liberty of making such a "monumental decision" without their presence and were quite excited to chose names for each of the dogs. Keirnan, the car fanatic, named the little black puppy Shelby, after the Mustang. She has a "racing stripe" so he felt that it would be an appropriate name. Sharing a name however, is where the similarity ends as this Shelby has a physique more comparable to an army tank and would prefer to laze in the sun than race around the back yard with her feistier sister. Skylar named the black and white puppy with the border collie like markings. We were a little concerned at first because she has some truly bizarre naming tendencies but after we all vetoed the name Ivanna, she settled a more fitting Feya; which she stuck with even after finding out that it was Hebrew for "poufy". It will be interesting to see how this all goes. It's been a while since we've had a puppy in the house.

I'm not sure if I should be concerned or not with your decision to forgo a traditional birthday party in favour of playing some Starcraft RPG with a bunch of grown-ups or not. You knew that it would mean less presents, but that didn't seem to bother you. I've got to say that I'm kind of impressed...but not surprised. You're really starting to grow up and you realized that a night of fun with friends and family outweighs gifts that will soon be forgotten. You might be on the verge of outgrowing me, and I realize that my continually pushing on your head probably isn't going to work, but in some ways you'll always be the little boy with a big "hockey player" smile and non-stop chatter. You were my first baby and you taught me so much. It was you who really taught me the meaning of words like love and sacrifice. The moment I first held you, I knew instantly that there was nothing that I wouldn't do for you. That I would always be there, no matter what. I know that things haven't really been easy over the last few years and I appreciate that you've hung in there. We've moved more than most military families during your life and I know how hard it is to make to friends. Thanks for understanding the "why's and doing your best to adapt. You have a pretty cool group of friends now, and I get a kick out of the constant emails and msn messages. I've got to say it, you are an awesome big brother. I remember when you were 2 and I brought S home. You were patient at first, believing perhaps, that someone would be coming to pick her up shortly. When it became apparent that we would keep her you were horrified. You've come a long way since those days. The way your two little sisters light up when they see you makes that apparent. I appreciate the time that you spend patiently playing with them. MIster pony and extreme kitty.....the hours spent on the my little pony website.....You have no idea how much I appreciate it...really....You don't realize it now, but you're teaching them alot about relationships and how to be treated. I'm really proud of the individual you are becoming from your never ending quest to keep learning to your sensitive, lookin out for the little guy nature and I just wanted to say Happy Birthday buddy! I love ya!

It's a little disconcerting when your almost 2 year old runs into the kitchen while you are sweeping the floor, picks something out of the pile, pops it into her mouth, announces "ooh yummy!" and then runs away. This took about 2 seconds. I didn't have time to react, stop her or say anything about the fact that things found in the garbage shouldn't be considered tasty. Maybe part of me is a little concerned, but I must admit that I'm extremely curious as to what she found. I don't recall seeing anything that could be described as yummy while I was sweeping. Thankfully she has a healthy immune system and we don't have anything toxic in the house. It's funny the difference in response between your first and your fourth kid. If it that had been Keirnan, I probably would have rinsed his mouth out and watched him for signs of the plague that I was sure would follow. With Lex, I'm considerably more relaxed and have learned not to sweat the small stuff.Yanna's EEG was successful. Thanks to much sleep deprivation she was only too happy to sit on my lap and read stories with me while it was being performed. Story might be a more accurate description as we read the same story over, and over.......and over. Now we just have to wait for the results. I love waiting. I'm getting very good at it.

For the first time in recent memory I was able to simply relax...for more than minute. The older kids spent the long weekend in Brandon with their dad and the youngest spent a couple of nights with her grandma in Sylvan. Once the initial lost feeling wore off it was a good weekend. There were no fights to break up, no early morning requests for breakfast, no puddles of any variety to clean up, just unstructured free time. I got to stay in bed until I was good and ready to leave, watch TV shows that were free from singing and colourful animated characters, and have some good quality time with T. We even went out for dinner twice...to nice restaurants where there were no slides and no napkin and ketchup dispensers. Not once did anyone ask if we wanted a kids menu. I love my kids and wouldn't trade being a mom for anything but dammit, I needed this past weekend.

I hate those days when you just know that you should have stayed in bed because it's only going to get worse as the day progresses. It was one of those days. I would have stayed in bed but my suddenly less than cherubic one year old decided to herald the morning by throwing up all over the sheets. The rest of the day was pretty much the same. Lexi spend most of the day crying, only being consoled by nursing. Normally this isn't a problem, but when your digestive system has turned into Mt. Vesuvius it's not so pleasant. Then to top of the day, as I was walking into Safeway to pick up some much needed groceries some little kid (who shall henceforth be referred to as the spawn-child) pointed directly at me, turned to her brother and said "See that lady....she's ugly!!" I kid you not. WTF?? Who says things like that??!! Maybe I really should have stayed in bed.

I'm not sure what it is but I have this strange desire to cook rabbit stew. Oh, wait....maybe it's the 3 hours of Max and Ruby that I was forced to endure yesterday on the way to Lac la Biche. Yes, that must be it.

I always find it funny when people make comments like "Wow, you handled that so well. My hat's off to you!" Yesterday I was the recipient of comments like that on 4 separate occasions. What they don't know is that after all the kids were in bed I hit the wall hard enough to put a big dent in it and cried. I never cry.If yesterday is any indication of how the week is going to progress, it's going to be a very long week! It was one of those parenting nightmare kind of days. In the morning I dropped T off for his yearly week long work "holiday". He calls it work but anything that involves having time to oneself, the ability to sleep uninterrupted as well as staying in a hotel, eating food that someone else cooks and not having to clean anything is a holiday in my books. The day itself was not so bad, and left me feeling optimistic about the rest of the week but around 4:00 it all went drastically downhill. Yanna has had a rash for the last several weeks. I have tried every natural treatment that I can think of with no success. She was getting to the point where she was scratching her skin raw. I, feeling good about the day, decided that enough was enough and perhaps it was time to consider seeing a regular doctor (blech) I called health link to determine if there was anyone close taking new patients and was given a list of names to chose from. Dr. Adams. I figured that it sounded like a pronounceable sort of name and was optimistic that perhaps he spoke English and drove the 30 minutes to the west end to see him. 2 hours. I waited in a crowded waiting room with 4 kids for 2 hours. It was NOT fun. Yanna kept trying to take her clothes off (because they were itchy) and make "snow angels" on the floor. We read every book in the waiting room, played eye spy with the older two, pretended she was a bear in a cave under the chair and counted everything we could think of. I used all of the usual tricks and then some but after two hours nothing works. By the time we got to enter phase two, aka known as waiting in the actual office, I was peeling her off the walls. At this point I was thinking that the change of scenery was nice and kept Yanna busy looking at the bone charts and things on the walls. Then Lex, who never spits up, puked all over my foot. I was wearing sandals. Once the doctor came in, it was obvious that English was not his first language (the name Moufasa on the wall gave me the heads up)....or even his second. He barely understood me and didn't understand Yanna at all. I still felt ok about the whole thing...until he started sporadically saying "help me!" and pretending to cry throughout the conversation. Apparently he got a kick out of the baby's horrified expression. After a bizarre checkup, he announced that it was either ringworm or eczema. Excuse me what??!! As someone who grew up on a farm, I'm pretty familiar with ringworm...and as someone who also suffers from eczema, I'm pretty familiar with that too. I felt that given the fact that we currently live in a city and have not been near any animals other than the dog in a very long time, that the latter diagnosis was probably more correct. I suggested that too him and he agreed. A prescription for cortisone cream (which may or may not get used) and a few more rounds of "help me" and we were out of there. Once at the medication counter, Yanna decides that she's had enough and starts alternately trying to bite me and scratch Lex. I put her down and ask K and S to watch her. She bolts, forcing me to leave my place in line and chase her down. Fortunately she is predictable and we find her in toys. Once home, the older two kids decide that they no longer like each other and resume their regularly scheduled routine of incessant bickering. I finally got them in bed and had to try for another several hours to get the the younger two to settle down for the night . It was a very late night. T called to see how we were doing and told me how he had spent his evening watching TV and practicing his kanji. I was very happy for him.I did however buy a new book that I hope to actually read. It's called The Birth House and I am optimistic that it will be as good as I think it is. It doesn't have any pictures so that's a good start. I'm hoping that today will go somewhat more smoothly. There is an attachment parent discussion group that I plan on going to and I am way to excite about the prospect of adult conversation with like minded people.

"I was the perfect mother...until I had kids"

Last night T and I managed to completely traumatize 2 out of 4 kids. Apparently we don't know them nearly as well as we had thought, or, perhaps it was simply the inherently flaky nature of kids. What was intended to be a fun and harmless practical joke completely backfired. Yanna ran crying out of the room asking us to put the "puter to bed" and K stormed out yelling the usual angsty pre-adolescent stuff - "I hate you...you guys are horrible!!!!" You know the the stuff that makes parents feel really good about themselves.? I have to admit though, normally I would have felt guilty at this point, but I was trying way too hard not to keep on laughing as that would have made the situation much worse. What was the joke you ask? We went to www.buzzme.ca and made videos using pics of the kids...and had a good time doing it I might add. In our, don't-get-out-much world it was really quite humorous. In the kids world....notsomuch. Normally they would get a kick out of that sort of thing but not this time...perhaps it was the eggplant casserole that I made for dinner.*sigh* I guess I'd better go toss another loonie in the kids therapy fund.

The girls started daycare today. It's funny, free time was something that didn't exist in my life but instead of feeling liberated I felt kind of lost. The world is a different place with a kid on one hip. You notice things more. Nothing is lost or unappreciated to them because it's all new. Bugs, leaves, cracks in the sidewalk are all things to be explored. Unfortunately Yanna is still in the stage where proper exploration means "let's see if i can stuff this in my mouth before mom catches me" It felt kinda odd hanging out today, doing my own thing....maybe i'll appreciate it more tomorrow.

Not much new. We took the kids out to a sit-down type restaurant the other day...a daring move as the last time we tried to do so, my daughter attempted to start a knife fight with her brother. This time was surprisingly uneventful. In fact the older guy at the table next to us congratulated T. on his well-behaved family.....what he didn't know is that we kept them quiet by playing hangman with words like fart etc. Hey, whatever works :)
Finally got an estimate back from my seamstress re: tudor style gown I'm having made and it's going to be much cheaper than I had anticipated. This pleases me to no end. Now I just have to come up with half the cost, which is still fairly substantial, so that she can order the fabric. Part of me can't believe I'm so giddily excited about a potential dress. I once did a gender type quiz with my ex and he scored higher on the female side than I did, so it doesn't seem right. But it is a recreation jane seymour/anne boelyn gown......this makes it ok right??