Night two of hockey "evaluations" is over. Matt got his slip of paper at the end of the night, letting him know whether he had a chance of making the "A" team or whether he's to go back tomorrow night and try for the "B" team. This is the first time he's ever had to deal with this kind of rejection, so I've been pumping him up all week with "as long as you try your best, that's all that matters" and "you're doing awesome... way to go!". He's not making the A team. He got the dreaded "please don't come back tomorrow, you're not good enough" slip of paper. Does he care? No. Not really. He just wants to play with the friends he made on last year's hockey team. We'll see if that works out. As any of you who know how minor hockey works, kids don't always make the team because of merit. Politics and such b.s. actually play a role in seven-year-old extra-curricular sports. As I said, Matthew is not at all concerned which team he's on. Mind you, he still hasn't figured out what team his friends are on. That might be a different story. His father, on the other hand, is crushed. He feels that his son should have at least been given a chance to prove himself tonight. We all see out children as stars, brilliant scholars and Nobel Peace Prize winners, and boy.. it really hurts when others don't see the same potential! I'm proud of him, regardless... he skated his little arse off, and clearly put forth his best effort. In his seven-year-old innocence, he has no idea that he's been "rejected", but I know better. Memories of being the last-picked for teams in gym class come flooding back, and I wish, oh how I wish I could shelter him from that terrible feeling. I guess it's a part of growing up, though. You're always on my "A" team Matt. No matter what.

Well, it seems that hockey season is upon us again. Now, I don’t mean NHL-professional-Hockey Night in Canada hockey season. I mean drag your ass out of a perfectly good bed wake up your kids while its still dark and drive to a freezing cold arena at some ungodly hour of the morning hockey season. YAY.

For us, this week is “player evaluation” week. In other words: try-outs. Someone in the upper echelons of minor hockey land felt that try-outs might be too harsh a concept for little ones, so let’s call it “evaluation” instead. But really, what this translates into in my life is another week of going to the arena for a 6pm session EVERY NIGHT this week. Which means we have to be at the arena at 5:30. Which means we have to leave the house at 5:00. Which means, I get to leave work, pick my son up at the school child care, pick my daughter up at her caregiver’s, go home and let the dog out, perhaps stuff an apple in their faces and run out the door. Then, we get to sit and let our hemorrhoids grow in the cold arena while I chase Grace up and down the concrete stairs, all the time picturing a long night at the Children’s Hospital. Once the session is over, I get to endure my son begging for a Slushie and treats from the canteen, when, in reality, we still haven’t had dinner. So then we’ll get home at about 7:30 and begin dinner. 7:30 is usually when we start our bedtime routine at our house. The bath/shower, pyjamas, stories, etc… to get the kids in bed by 8-8:30 at the latest. You can see where this completely throws off my routine.

So, although most parents would be cheering their sons on to make the “A” team because it’s the best team, I’m cheering him on in hopes of not having to go back for Thursday and Friday. And hey, if he makes the “A” team… I will be an uber-proud Hockey Mom….and much happier for not having to spend EVERY night at the arena this week. GO MATT GO!

Funny story last night... We went out for dinner after test-driving a new truck (a story for another day...) with our neighbours. Now, dinner out with our gang is always a fun experience, but I have to say, my kids are pretty darned good at a restaurant. I admit, we eat out FAR too much, but at least my kidlings know how to order a meal and behave (somewhat) at a restaurant! We spent much of the dinner recalling some funny things that happened at the Richmond Fair. For those of you who have never been - I highly recommend it! The Saturday night dance is a blast, especially if you go with a bunch of friends who coudn't care less how much of a fool you make of yourself, and still love you in the morning! We decided that what happens at the Richmond Fair STAYS at the Richmond Fair, so unfortunately, I won't be sharing too many of those escapades with you. Well, maybe just those that don't incriminate too many people. I'm sure if I just use initials rather than names, I could tell the story about the hula hoops, vegetable oil and booby glitter? well....maybe not. In the midst of this conversation, I mentioned, casually, that I was starting a blog.

DH: A blog? What's a blog?
G: That's one of those online diary thingies, isn't it?
Me: Yessir....
N: What are you going to write about?
Me: Oh, I don't know... you know..just the trials and tribulations of my life. I know, it's not very exciting, but who knows? Someone might find it amusing.
DH: Great.. you're going to talk about me, aren't you...
N: Well, that would be funny.
DH: What are you saying?
Me: Nothing, dear.. don't worry..I won't write about just you.

So, here it is, my first embarassing husband story. Warning - I almost peed my pants when this actually happened, so make sure you're sitting on a towel.

Last night, we were thrilled to watch the season premieres of Gray's Anatomy and ER. I have been an ER junkie since the inception of the show, and have missed very few episodes. When Gray's came along... I fell into it, but was distraught that it was on at 10! on Sunday! Made for a very sleepy Monday morning. Imagine my bliss when I found out that I would have something decent to watch between Survivor and ER! Mind you, this season, I haven't gotten into Survivor quite yet, and I can't say I miss it. The jury's out on that one. So...we watched Gray's and ER...bawled like a baby... and turned out the lights to head of to dreamland. DH rolled over to turn on the fan, and then the fun began. I heard a crash, some swearing, and what sounded like blind grasping for something. Then:

DH: Help.... please?
(I hear a click....click....click...click...you know..that sound a oscillating fan makes when it can't turn?)
Me: What did you do?
DH: Just...please? Before the end of my fingers get cut off by the fan?
Me: ok... hold on...
DH: Um.. now...please? I'm falling...
(I turn on the light, and that's when the pee almost hit the floor)
Me: (Giggling hysterically) Oh my...how did you manage that?
DH: Just get over here.... please.....(not sounding so amused anymore)

Now, let me describe the scene... My husband had rolled over a little too close to the edge of the bed, and was now wedged beween the mattress and the night table. The fan (just a table-top fan) had fallen over and was next to his head, trying to turn (hence the click...click...click...) DH is hanging on to the headboard, trying not to fall on top of his glasses which are on the floor beneath him. I, on the other hand, am standing at the foot of the bed, legs crossed, trying not to pee, I'm laughing so hard. I eventually got over it, rescued the poor bugger and pulled the fan off his head. He hauled himself back onto the bed and proceeded to head off to sleep. I, unfortunately, continued to giggle for quite a while and eventually drifted off...

Thanks honey, for the comic relief I needed after that heavy episode of ER!

OK... So, I've added a counter to my site to see how many people will actually be visiting.. any takers?

Apparently, I'm only on my second posting and therefore failing miserably as a blogger. Who wants to read a blog with only two posts? Neither of which are really all that enthralling. Really. Funnily enough, (is funnily a word?) my friend gave me heck for not updating, but lo and behold...he's not doing much better! SO. What does one blog about? Should I bore you with my mundane daily routine? The hysterical things my children do that drive me nuts? The usual natterings-on that go on between my husband and I? My secret double-life as an exotic dancer? haha...if only it were so exciting! So, let me begin by introducing myself. I'm a wife of one, mother of two and pet owner of one cat, one dog. I'm in my early 30s and my husband and I are High School sweethearts (gag!). We've been married 9 wonderful years. We have a son who is 7, and a daughter who is 2. I work full-time as a school secretary at a local high school. We live in a suburb West of Ottawa, and really... life doesn't get any better than that! I could probably entertain with you witty and well-worded tales of my adventures with my crazy neighbours and good friends... and maybe, who knows... just maybe... this will be a great blog someday! Stay tuned!