Inform me in your almost-12-year-old-voice how happy you are that my belly button isn't sticking out yet because of the baby inside.
Because that's "really gross".
Friday, June 12, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
A Lesson In Paying Attention
I may have mentioned before that both hubby and I suffer from an affliction known as "Dirty-Potty-Mouth". You may also have guessed it considering the number of swear words I use as part of descriptive phrases in posts here on this site.
It has not escaped our notice that while my son abhors swearing and will give an exasperated, "MUM! Danielle's right there," when a particularly objectionable cuss leaves my mouth, we've also realized that little children hear things. And worse? THEY REPEAT THEM.
This was made crystal clear on the weekend when darling daughter was helping me attempt to put a fitted sheet on a bed, which was not going well because it didn't fit. You know how it goes when you've got three corners tucked in and the fourth keeps popping over the top and no matter which corner you try to tug down, the opposite one lets loose at the same moment your mouth does.
She tried to hold one end down and I heard her mutter with disdain, "This is fucting useless."
My parenting skills may need a touch of improvement. Fuck.
It has not escaped our notice that while my son abhors swearing and will give an exasperated, "MUM! Danielle's right there," when a particularly objectionable cuss leaves my mouth, we've also realized that little children hear things. And worse? THEY REPEAT THEM.
This was made crystal clear on the weekend when darling daughter was helping me attempt to put a fitted sheet on a bed, which was not going well because it didn't fit. You know how it goes when you've got three corners tucked in and the fourth keeps popping over the top and no matter which corner you try to tug down, the opposite one lets loose at the same moment your mouth does.
She tried to hold one end down and I heard her mutter with disdain, "This is fucting useless."
My parenting skills may need a touch of improvement. Fuck.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Huh.
How is it that after more than 20 years of watching Days of Our Lives it still manages to suck me in?
I don't see it often, but that's what episode recaps on websites are for - praise be the Internet!
I don't see it often, but that's what episode recaps on websites are for - praise be the Internet!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Fire!
Little bit of excitement at home last night - a short-circuited power pack that was being charged caught fire and smoked out the workshop resulting in hubby phoning in to the local fire department - his department - to come and put the fire out.
There's a reason women think firemen are hot - watching hubby do his thing - even without his gear on - set my flames on high and before I go any further trying to relate my pregnancy-hormones to fire I'll just leave you with this quote from an episode of "Sex And The City's" Samantha:
"You fantasize about a man with a Park Avenue apartment and a nice big stock portfolio...For me, it's a fireman with a nice big hose!"
There's a reason women think firemen are hot - watching hubby do his thing - even without his gear on - set my flames on high and before I go any further trying to relate my pregnancy-hormones to fire I'll just leave you with this quote from an episode of "Sex And The City's" Samantha:
"You fantasize about a man with a Park Avenue apartment and a nice big stock portfolio...For me, it's a fireman with a nice big hose!"
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Is that ALL?
It's been ages since I updated anything on here, mostly because life has been a stressful whirlwind lately, somewhat because I think that what I write about can be classified as falling-asleep-mid-crappy-movie-boring, and a tiny bit of wondering whether what I write is even remotely interesting for anyone to read on a regular basis. Hmm...the Id, the Ego, and SuperEgo! The titles are the only thing I remember from psych class.
So, what's been happening? We had an ultrasound and found out that a vagina clearly shows up quite differently than a penis does on these scans. Another girl and hubby developed 3 gray hairs on the spot because now he has to worry about not just ONE, but TWO daughters one day being felt up by their horny boyfriends on our living room sofa or coming home at the age of 16 and telling us they're pregnant and he knows the only way to get pregnant is by having SEX. This is disconcerting to him because he and I have sex regularly and THIS IS HOW THEY GOT HERE in the first place. I think I'll wait to remind him that teenage girls are just as hormonally hungry as teen boys and pregnant mummies - after all - there is a time and place for everything.
I recently celebrated my 38th birthday. I'm not sure what "38" is supposed to feel like, but I never thought it was quite like this. I feel like I'm only 31, I'm told I look like I'm 30, and if I'm going to be perfectly honest, I often act like I'm about 22! Whichever way you look at it, age is just a number, and I feel younger now than I did ten years ago. Of course, that could be related to the amount of chocolate I consume on a regular basis. Having fat on your body keeps things fluid.
We are also in the midst of doing some renovations at home and by "we" I mean hubby. We finally got rid of the turquoise blue (circa 1970) bathtub and toilet. We now have a tub with jets and it is heavenly to sit in a deep tub and relax with a glass of wine. Ri-i-ght...a glass of wine I'm not supposed to be having because I'm pregnant. Well, I've decided that a small half-glass now and then is just fine because it helps me to relax and the amount of work-stress I'm dealing with daily is far worse for my baby and me than 4 sips of red.
The kids are switching rooms so that Danielle and baby sister Olivia will be sharing a room, and big-brother-Derek can have his own space. In order to accomplish that, hubby is patching and sanding the wall in Derek's new bedroom, and then we have to paint, put together his new furniture and repaint the girls' new room before the end of this month. This is all taking place during the hours of 5pm to 8pm - during supper-time, bath-time, quiet-time, laundry-time, general-housekeeping-time, chocolate-chip-cookie-making-time and sweet baby Jeeesuz can we please-fucking-relax-NOW-time? If you don't understand my sarcasm, move along...
We also recently bought a new cottage - actually it's Jeff's mom's old cottage - and a pontoon because the owner would only sell the package deal - and now we are trying to sell our old cottage. Let's just say that our anxiety levels have hit a high patch, but overall, we're doing quite well with handling everything and trying to remain calm. We are actually talking to each other using words and less the "Fuck you; No! FUCK you!; Really? FUCK YOU?" approach we sometimes take.
Maybe this getting older thing is also helping our maturity levels. Umm, yeah, let's not count on it though because we still snort diet-Coke out of our noses over Will Ferrell....
So, what's been happening? We had an ultrasound and found out that a vagina clearly shows up quite differently than a penis does on these scans. Another girl and hubby developed 3 gray hairs on the spot because now he has to worry about not just ONE, but TWO daughters one day being felt up by their horny boyfriends on our living room sofa or coming home at the age of 16 and telling us they're pregnant and he knows the only way to get pregnant is by having SEX. This is disconcerting to him because he and I have sex regularly and THIS IS HOW THEY GOT HERE in the first place. I think I'll wait to remind him that teenage girls are just as hormonally hungry as teen boys and pregnant mummies - after all - there is a time and place for everything.
I recently celebrated my 38th birthday. I'm not sure what "38" is supposed to feel like, but I never thought it was quite like this. I feel like I'm only 31, I'm told I look like I'm 30, and if I'm going to be perfectly honest, I often act like I'm about 22! Whichever way you look at it, age is just a number, and I feel younger now than I did ten years ago. Of course, that could be related to the amount of chocolate I consume on a regular basis. Having fat on your body keeps things fluid.
We are also in the midst of doing some renovations at home and by "we" I mean hubby. We finally got rid of the turquoise blue (circa 1970) bathtub and toilet. We now have a tub with jets and it is heavenly to sit in a deep tub and relax with a glass of wine. Ri-i-ght...a glass of wine I'm not supposed to be having because I'm pregnant. Well, I've decided that a small half-glass now and then is just fine because it helps me to relax and the amount of work-stress I'm dealing with daily is far worse for my baby and me than 4 sips of red.
The kids are switching rooms so that Danielle and baby sister Olivia will be sharing a room, and big-brother-Derek can have his own space. In order to accomplish that, hubby is patching and sanding the wall in Derek's new bedroom, and then we have to paint, put together his new furniture and repaint the girls' new room before the end of this month. This is all taking place during the hours of 5pm to 8pm - during supper-time, bath-time, quiet-time, laundry-time, general-housekeeping-time, chocolate-chip-cookie-making-time and sweet baby Jeeesuz can we please-fucking-relax-NOW-time? If you don't understand my sarcasm, move along...
We also recently bought a new cottage - actually it's Jeff's mom's old cottage - and a pontoon because the owner would only sell the package deal - and now we are trying to sell our old cottage. Let's just say that our anxiety levels have hit a high patch, but overall, we're doing quite well with handling everything and trying to remain calm. We are actually talking to each other using words and less the "Fuck you; No! FUCK you!; Really? FUCK YOU?" approach we sometimes take.
Maybe this getting older thing is also helping our maturity levels. Umm, yeah, let's not count on it though because we still snort diet-Coke out of our noses over Will Ferrell....
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