As I sit here and type, I am a blubbering fool. I just left our school’s Remembrance Day ceremony. When I was in High School, it was often a fairly cheesy assembly – someone recited “In Flander’s Fields”, the band played a few songs, and there was a skit or two depicting the horrors of war. In grade 11, we gained a new drama teacher – an actor who took his work very seriously, and our Remembrance Day ceremonies became more thoughtful, meaningful and effective. I remember thinking that it was really a time that we should pay attention to what they were trying to tell us, rather than passing notes back and forth down the aisles of the school theatre. The ceremony I just attended was touching, meaningful, and definitely drove the point home. Often children think of people who are affected by was as “old people”, grown-ups, adults, but not children. I have to admit, I hate to think of children affected by war and how traumatizing and terrible it must be, and would rather not think about it than talk about it. The drama students did a fantastic job of presenting some tableaus, very dark, very somber, very effective, and the one that got me started was about a little girl in Holland clutching her rag doll and her mother by the neck as the bombs go off around her house. All that is left at the end of the scene is the doll lying amidst the rubble. (Cue: Vanessa’s waterworks – scene 1). I’ve always had a soft spot for stuffed animals and this type of symbolism kills me. My Mom tells a story about some science-fiction movie I watched with my parents when I was little (maybe 4 or 5) about a little alien boy who comes to live on Earth. He is “adopted” unknowingly by human parents who raise him as a human. When he gets to a certain age, he has to return to his planet. He had a stuffed elephant that was his favourite toy, and when he got “beamed” back to his home planet, all of his earthly belongings, including the elephant were left behind. My Mom claims that it took me forever to recover. I cried, I sobbed, I just couldn’t understand why this little boy couldn’t have his elephant, especially since he wasn’t going to have his parents anymore. The Christmas story of the Littlest Angel gets me too. Particularly when the little angel’s box of goodies is described – the treasures of a 4-year old boy. During this ceremony today, they showed a clip from the movie “Sophie’s Choice”. If you’ve ever seen it, I’m sure you know which scene they showed. In the movie, Sophie has been arrested and is headed to Auschwitz with her two your children. Her little girl looks to be 2 or 3, and her little boy looks about 4 or 5. The soldiers are sorting the line up into two groups - people headed directly to the gas chambers and the other, people headed to the work camp. A soldier, who notices her little girl clinging to her, obviously terrified and upset, and the little boy burrowing into her hip, approaches the mother. He tells her that she can only take one child with her, she “gets” to choose which child she will take with her to the work camp, and which one will be sent to the gas chamber immediately. She keeps telling the soldier that she can’t choose, but when he threatens to take both children away, she tell him to take her daughter. Then ensues a horrifying screaming, clinging to Mom, awful scene. (Cue: Vanessa’s waterworks – scene 2). This movie affected me tremendously when I first saw it. When I saw this scene again, I was done. I’m still crying. Now, as a parent of two children, I can’t even imagine being in that situation, having to choose the life of one child over another. Just thinking about it, I start bawling again. I can’t imagine having to hand over one of my children, kicking and screaming, to never see them again. And to have them think that I chose the other one over them as their last memory of me. What could be worse? So, on this day of remembering those who have fallen for our freedom, and who are currently protecting our world as we know it, let’s take a moment of reflection, and hope to Hell that we’re never faced with making such a decision in our lives, and never have to watch our children suffer as so many did and still do.

I thought I would take a moment to introduce some members of our family - the pets. Now, this isn't a "posting the cat" entry so early in the life of this blog, I just thought people would be interested in meeting our furry friends at home who add to this comedy we call our peaceful at-home life. So, I'll begin with the larger of our two four-legged family members, and he-who-is-most-responsible-for-the-big-messes, Charlie. The Dog.

Yup.. he is as cute as he looks. But don't let that fool you. He has a sniffer extraordinaire, and is willing to eat ANYTHING if you leave it within his reach. In fact, being in his reach is not so much a prerequisite - if he can smell it, he wants it. You can imagine that with a toddler running around, often clutching a bun or other such treat in her grubby little palm, he gets a lot of snacks via Gracie. His favourite place is under Gracie's high chair, where he anxiously awaits whatever she will drop his way, and can't wait for her to leave the table so that he can finish whatever she left on the plate. Whether she was finished or not. This past summer, Charlie got very, very, sick with a gastro-something-or-other, and our vet suggested that it might be "garbage-itis" - an upset stomach of sorts, from eating things he shouldn't have.

I have to say, I laughed out loud. Charlie once ate a two-pound bag of dark Belgian chocolate. Enough to kill, or at least, seriously hinder most dogs. Yes, he vomited in about 1000 different places throughout the house, but there were no long-term effects. Trust me, when I was scrubbing the carpet, I was wishing there had been some long-term effects.. like death! He has eaten poopy diapers, rotten food, cooked chicken bones, tin-foil wrapped leftovers (foil and all), a small roast, carrot cake, styrofoam packaging and his favourite...cat turds... There was no doubt, though, that he was ill...

Have you ever seen anything sadder-looking? Poor little bugger... as it happens, he had "prostatitis" which in turn affected his GI tract, which made him very very ill for a few weeks, but he's all better now. Back to his old eat-everything-in-sight self. We do love him, we just wish he wouldn't shed quite as much, or pee on the floor quite as much, or throw up on the carpet quite as much, or steal food from us quite as much. Now, the cuddling on the bed between us, while lying on his back, snoring and occasionally yelping in his dreams was cute at first, but the novelty has worn off.

Charlie, we love you... but please, oh please, stop eating my underwear!

Bloggy Review

I have just spent an obscene amount of time reading Marla's blog over at Hello Josephine. And all of the archives. All I can say is WOW. Steve and Josie are so lucky to have you, as you are lucky to be blessed with such a wonderful Husband and incredible daughter. Reading this blog, you can feel the love just oozing from Marla's words, like the maple syrup oozes off a waffle when you break the barrier around the little squares. (See... I'm trying to be poetic, and it just sound cheezy). Her adventures with Boo Boo are hysterical, and her adventures in parenting, wifing, and familing are both inspiring and touching, and more often then not, quite funny! I recommend, if you have a minute... or several hours, as in my case, it will be time well spent!

Andrea at quietfish posted this and I recommend you take a look if you ever use Mr. Clean or such "Magic" erasers....http://kerflop.com/2006/11/02/chemical-burn/
Thank you to Kerflop for sharing such a heart-wrenching story.

48 things about me that you probably aren't interested in at all but I'm going to tell you anyway ...

1. first name? Vanessa
2. were you named after anyone? I was supposed to be an Andrea or "Andriyka". My parents saw me and realized that I needed something a little more exotic.
3. when did you last cry? The other day, when I was telling my friend about the movie "On the Beach", and describing my emotional breakdown when I watched it not long after 9/11.
4. do you like your handwriting? Yes - it's pretty nice. Lots of people compliment me on it, and I manage to gt my point across on paper, so it serves the purpose!
5. what is your favorite lunch meat? Haha.... anything that's not "mock" or a "loaf". Kobassa probably ranks as my favourite, but not the cheap kobassa-esque stuff they pass of at the grocery store as "polish coil", but the real stuff from the polish sausage shop.
6. if you were another person would you be friends with you? I'd like to think so. I know I can be a little over the top at times, but I'm not overly obnoxious most of the time. And I'm a good cook. At least I would go over to my house for food.
7. do you have a journal? Besides this blog, no. I was one of those people who always tried to keep a diary or a journal, and besides the journal I kept when Matt was first born, I never really succeeded.
8. do you still have your tonsils? I sure do, but my husband seems to keep looking for them in there.... (ahem...)
9. would you bungee jump? Only if someone pushed me off the cliff.
10. what is your favorite cereal? Honeycombs sans milk.
11. do you untie your shoes when you take them off? no....busted....
12. do you think you are strong? physically - not in the least, mentally - yes, emotionally - depends on the day.
13. what is your favorite ice cream flavor? chocolate mint chip or pralines and cream. Especially from Laura Secord
14. shoe size? 9.5W or 10
15. red or pink? Red. definitely red.
16. what is the least favorite thing about yourself? I'm terrible with the follow-through. On a lot of things.
17. whom do you miss the most? People who know me will think I'm nuts, but I miss my Dad most. I miss that he wasn't a part of my life for the last 20 years, and that my kids never knew him. I wish we could have gotten along and had a semi-normal relationship, but I guess it wasn't meant to be.
18. do you want everyone to send this back to you? umm.. how?
19. what color pants, shirt and shoes are you wearing? Navy pants, Brown shoes and striped top - Aqua, peach, lime and baby yellow.
20. last thing you ate? Grilled cheese sandwich
21. what are you listening to right now? Students counting canned good from our canned food drive
22. if you were a crayon, what color would you be? hmmm... One of my favourite crayola colours is "Mac and Cheese"
23. favorite smell? food... except for anything curry-like, campfire - particularly when it's cold outside, and baby... who doesn't love baby smell!
24. who was the last person you talked to on the phone? The lovely lady who took over for me at my old job.
25. the first thing you notice about people you are attracted to? their smile and willingness to be a little goofy
26. do you like the person you stole this from? I think Babci is great! I've been following her daughter's and her blogs for a while now, and she does remind me a lot of my mom (my kid's Baba) and my Baba, all rolled up into one!
27. favorite drink? Alcoholic? Tequila... just ask Bill. Non-alcoholic? Ice cold water.
28. favorite sport? to watch... anything my kids are playing :)
29. eye color? Tres blue.
30. hat size? big. as in So I Married an Axe Murderer Orange-on-a-toothpick big.
31. do you wear contacts? yes. and they're NOT coloured. God, I hate it when people ask me that. Do you just go up to someone and say - oh.. I love your hair colour... is it clairol or your own? How about... You've got lovely breasts..are they implants?
32. favorite food? wings...fajitas....nachos...just bring me to your local pub
33. scary movies or happy endings? I like both.
34. summer or winter? Summer and fall, but I love Christmas, so I guess winter falls in there somewhere. If only the winters weren't quite as long here...
35. hugs or kisses? Definitely both
36. favorite dessert? Do I have to pick a favourite? It used to be the Deep-fried apple burro at Houston's....honestly, as long as I have just a little something sweet... I'm happy
38. who is most likely to respond? I don't really know... as you may notice, the comments on my blog are a little scarce...hint hint... leave a comment!
39. least likely to respond? Everybody else.
40. what books are you reading? Just finished "Can You Keep a Secret" by Sophie Kinsella... loved it!
41. what's on your mouse pad? A smear of liquid paper
42. what did you watch last night on tv? trash tv... America's Next Top Model
43. favorite sounds? baby giggles... my husband NOT snoring.... the coins pouring out of a slot machine into MY bucket
44. the rolling stones or beatles? Neither … Abba.
45. the farthest you've been from home? Europe...
46. what's your special talent? Tying a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue
47. where were you born? Ottawa, Ontario
48. who sent this to you? Noone... I stole it from the Mater. Now steal it from me! Tag, you’re it!

I must apologize for the bloggy drought going on at MOAWM lately. It’s been insanely busy between stomach flus, a bad cold, hockey, shopping for kid’s clothes and canteen duty!

My mom finally came home from her trip to Europe. There were a few rather unpleasant experiences which tainted her trip a fair bit, so she was quite disappointed with the whole thing. The highlight of her trip (in my opinion) was her stay in Turkey and her spur-of-the-moment impulse shopping experience in a jewelry store. After much negotiation and several cups of tea, my mom splurged on herself (way to go Mom!) and treated herself to a beautiful ruby and diamond ring. It looks something like this, but the ruby is 4 carats! My mom NEVER splurges on herself and she sure deserves it! I hope she wears it often and enjoys it!

Since my last post, we ended up buying a new truck. Not new-new, but used-new-to-us-new. It’s quite lovely, although it’s much bigger than I thought it was. I’m hoping that I might lose some weight parking at the far end of the parking lot because I’m too chicken to try to fit it between two parked cars! I keep having visions of the Smith Falls wedding. We had a nice Thanksgiving with Randy’s parents and then re-did the whole dinner again last Sunday so that my Mom could have a turkey dinner too. Unfortunately, we weren’t all in the most thanksgivingest mood, and the turkey (fresh off the BBQ) flew across the kitchen at one point in time. And who said turkeys can’t fly?

I enjoyed the twin sale on the weekend, particularly getting to spend some quality time with two of my girlfriends. The fact that we got some great deals on clothes for the kids is a tremendous bonus! I’m selling a bunch of my kid’s clothes THIS weekend at a sale in the Glebe. The sale is called “My Kids Funky Closet”, and I’m hoping that it will be a huge success! Go to their website to check it out!

By far, the highlight of my week thus far has been my evening of canteen duty. Who doesn’t love to stand for 4 hours at the canteen, and come home covered in slushie stains and stinking of fried grease? Come on, you know you’re jealous! But speaking of hockey, we’re pretty proud of our Matt – he’s been chosen to play centre for his team, which is fantastic! Now, if we could just teach him to want the puck. I’m hoping that will come soon. First game is this Saturday, with a second game on Sunday. Wish us luck!

Ever had one of those moments where you're ready to see your children to the next random stranger going by? We're currently in "have-to-buy-a-new-vehicle" hell. Our old truck is ready to die, and will take a significant amount of effort to become road-worthy (read: lots of money). So, we either sink a whole lot of cash into a vehicle that's pretty old and who knows what's going to go wrong with it next, or we can get a more reliable, "younger" used truck. Randy is stuck on getting a truck. To be completely honest, I don't really think we need a truck, per se, but hey... who's to argue with a man who wants a truck, right? We're on a budget, too. So finding a decent truck without a ridiculous amount of mileage on it for the right price has proven difficult. We thought we had found one, but upon close inspection by our mechanic were told to stay far, far away from it, unless we were getting it at a ridiculously low price.

Last night, we embarked upon a family adventure that consisted of driving around the used car lots in Ottawa with the children in the back of the van, looking for a truck. how. much. fun. is. that. First of all, the children were hungry, and the cries of "I'm hungry" from the back seat over and OVER AGAIN, PLEASE STOP!!!!! ...ahem... finally ended up with us running to the good old Golden Arches. ick. I was totally flustered with trying to keep the kids quiet in the back seat, with numbers and figures and facts about trucks running through my head, and my husband telling me where to drive, and trying to avoid pylons on the road from ALL OF THE FREAKING CONSTRUCTION IN OTTAWA......breathe, Vanessa.... that I drove right through an intersection on a red light. ugh. Luckily, I didn't cause an accident, nor did I get caught, thank goodness! It really wasn't that bad, I ended up in a left-turn lane that I didn't realize was a left-turn lane until it was too late to get out of the left-turn lane, so just drive on throught he bloody intersection crazy woman driver!

We eventually ended up driving to a dealership just outside of Ottawa, and thank.God. we didn't have to deal with anymore construction. Grace has started this charming effect of using "funny" voices when she's playing. Now, when she's playing at home, with her Ariel and other dolls, and uses different voices and such, it's actually kind of cute! When I'm exhausted and driving down a multi-lane highway, and she keeps repeating the same thing over and over again in a high-pitched-squeaky-nails-on-a-chalkboard voice from the back seat? Not. so. charming.
So discussion ensues like this:

Grace: "Going to see the truck Mummy? Going to see the truck Mummy? Going to see the truck Mummy?" (in squeaky falsetto voice)

Me: "Yes, baby, we're going to see another truck. Please don't use that voice."

Grace: "Going to see the nudder truck Mummy? Anudder truck? Where the nudder truck? (still squeaking..)

Me: "Yes, Gracie. PLEASE don't use that voice. Use a normal voice, like mummy."

Grace: "Okay... I use nudder voice, ok mummy?" (still squeaking)

Me: "Gracie, PLEASE. STOP. NOW" (voice of doom, with evil eye reflecting off the rear-view mirror)

Grace: "Okay, mummy. We go see the truck, now? The truck the truck, the truck, the truck, the truck, the truck" (increasing in decibels and pitch, ever higher, you would think only Satan's hounds could hear her now... but NO!)

Me and Dad: "Grace! Enough! NO MORE SILLY VOICE!" (I think the van was dangerously veering toward the ditch by this time)

Grace: "I like my silly voice, Mummy!" (you got it... still squeaking)

Dad: "Gracie, no more. You're giving me a headache."

Grace "Okay Daddy" (in a regular, adorable voice. Why will she only listen to Dad? Who has changed most of her diapers, cuddled with her when she's sick, endured 9 months of gestational diabetes hell??????)

Me: "Thank you."

Grace: "You're welcome" (squeaking, yet again....)

Thank God we got to the dealership at that moment, otherwise...who knows what might have happened.

WHY am I so tired....? I just can't seem to get ahead of myself with this sleeping thing. I'm going to bed early, and I still wake up in the mornings feeling like something the cat dragged in! I think it might have something to do with the lack of light these days at 6am, but MAN, what I would do to just be able to sleep uninterrupted until oh... let's say.... 9? for a week? Gracie summed it up for me this morning. I went into her room to wake her up to bring her to the sitter's (what a sin). She was buried under her blankie and her various bears, bunnies and friends. When I turned the light on, she burrowed deeper into her nest, and pulled the blankie over her head. I suggested it was time to go to Carrie's house, and she said: "I go soon, Mummy. I sleeping with my bunnies now." What I would give to be sleeping with my bunnies right now.

I apologize to all my loyal readers (ahem) for the dead air over the weekend. Between some kind of stomach bug, hockey sort-outs (oh yes, the drama continues), birthday parties, wedding, sleepover at Grandma & Grandpa’s changing the brakes on the van, it was a little busy.
It all started with a call from Matt’s school Thursday afternoon…so off I go to pick up said sick child, and we head for home to sleep on the couch and watch cartoons…right?
Wrong. Do you think I could spend an afternoon at home without doing laundry, cleaning up the kitchen, sorting through baby clothes for an upcoming consignment sale? No. Had to do it all. And then said child miraculously feels better after only an hour on the couch and insists that he’s STARVING. We then went to yet another night of hockey evaluations and then for a quick bite at a local restaurant. Poor Gracie must have been starting to feel the effects of her brother’s bug, because she promptly expelled the contents of her belly all over the table as soon as she was done eating. How embarrassing is that that??? Poor thing. I brought her straight home, put her to bed and she didn’t pull an exorcist again. Thank. God. I don’t do vomit very well. By this time, I was starting to feel a little green myself, and ended up staying home on Friday with the kidlets. Again, didn’t take the opportunity for a restful day, but spent most of it doing laundry and tidying… a hopeless cause at our house! Matt had a birthday party that he couldn’t possibly miss on Friday night at 5 – who starts a birthday party at 5 on a Friday???? – across town, so off we went and spent a nice evening with Grace, looking for a new truck. She was terribly upset that we left Matt at the birthday party place “No leave Matew dere!” but eventually got over it! We all fell into bed by 9, and were up and at it again the next morning!

Saturday brought a 2-hour hockey session in the morning, during which we ran across the street and bought a new truck. Hopefully we’ll have it by the end of the week! From there, we raced to a bowling alley to drop Matt off at yet another birthday party, for which we were ½ an hour late…sigh… Matt was terribly disappointed that he didn’t make the team he wanted to make. He’s only playing with one other boy that he played with last year. We’ll see how this turns out… We flew home from the birthday party, got dressed for the wedding, and flew back to the birthday party to deliver the little one to Grandma & Grandpa for the night. And then flew to Smiths Falls for the wedding.

I HATE being late. We snuck into the church right behind the Bride. I was tempted to ask her if she’d like us to walk with her… but thought better of it when she turned around, shot me a look and said, “You’re late.” Could I please just shrink into a little speck and not be seen? Please? We let her go down the aisle and snuck in a side door, so that no one would notice. Lovely ceremony, and reception to follow at the church hall right next door! You know all those weddings when you have no idea what to do to kill time between the ceremony and the reception? This family has it wrapped up. Let me tell you about the “drunk bus”. Oh yes, it’s every bit as glamorous as it sounds. Picture an old camper from the early 70’s… watch your step, and don’t get hung up in the shag carpeting covering the inside of the van…. Basically, the way the “drunk bus” works is that the family loads into this thing, and drives around for the time during the ceremony and reception … makes a stop at the liquor store, beer store, swings by the photo location… you know… the usual! We had a police car following us most of the way. When we returned to the church hall, someone had (Oh…the horror!) parked in the RV’s original parking spot. I had gotten out of the bus when the Bride had to use the facilities (yes, the “facilities”) at the back of the camper. I figured a girl needs her privacy, after all. Unfortunately, said Bride forgot to close the blinds at the back of the camper and lo and behold…we had a bridal moon… anyhow. The RV driver was desperate to get back into the original parking spot, and decided to try to fit the RV between two parked cars to get to the premium spot. When he realized he only had a ¼ inch clearance on either side, and his door handle got caught on one car’s wheel well…the logical solution was to get some of the male wedding guests to PICK UP the offending car and move it. I have NEVER seen anything like this in my life. The owner of the other car (a much newer, shinier, SUV-type car) came out of the hall when they gentlemen attempted to lift and move his car. I can’t begin to tell you how not impressed he looked. After all, the RV got back to the premium parking spot, no fights were started and the party continued. Unfortunately, DH ended up feeling very ill after dinner, so we left around 10:30 to head home, where he was up all night feeling very, very ill.
Sunday was a quiet, lazy day, and we spent it changing brakes, doing laundry, running to the grocery store, and making a lovely dinner. Nice Sunday, after all. Now we’re back to work and back to hockey… fun…

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!

Well, here goes... I've decided to start a blog... am I nuts? Do I not have enough to do? Wish me luck!