Spittle

As is the usual start to my posts, V is sleeping and I am hanging out on the sofa as per usual on Saturday night.
I am back to work on Monday and might even be happy about that. Lord knows I can't stand to 'relax' or 'do nothing', so the idea of working holds a curious appeal to me. It's that or reorganizing the kitchen/closets/cupboards etc etc, and I have already done the kitchen. Cupboards are tomorrow!

I am watching The Mummy 3 and am not too sure what I think of the CGI Yeti in the film. It might rank up there with Pierce Brosnan singing in 'Mamma Mia".

V has learned a new skill, courtesy of his Daddy and Pop-Pop respectively. And oh is he ever pleased when he can show you! While we were at Epcot earlier last week, my husband and father-in-law somehow managed to teach V how to spit/blow raspberries. You should have seen the smiles on their face when he finally caught on! V was having the time of his life and pretty soon we were all covered in spit. And his face was soaking wet. And the front of his onesie looked like he had just ran a marathon.

Next on the agenda was to teach him 'pull my finger'....... and again I had that vision of my future, full of men, all farting and burping and laughing hysterically at it. And again I thought about getting a female pet.

Our chihuahua is a male too. Basically I live surrounded by men. And I know too, that if I were to have another child, it would also be a 'masculine child'. And that would be the end of it. Forever surrounded by men, dirty bathrooms (as those go hand-in-hand), upright toilet seats, burping, farting, 'game day', sports paraphernalia , sinks full of shaving cream and whiskers NOT washed down the sink, endless viewings of 'The Godfather' parts 1 2 and 3 etc etc....

All I have to do now is convince M that another animal in the house wouldn't be that bad of a deal! Wish me luck!

Eve...

I have approximately 7 minutes....... That is precisely how long my delicious orange-vanilla Genoise cake has left to cook in the oven.

I am being adventurous this year and am making a french recipe for Buche-de-Noel that I found online and am really hoping that it will be delicious and look exactly like it does in the picture (complete with meringue mushrooms..... which I might even attempt...). V is down for a nap which is how I have time to try this out. M is out doing his Xmas shopping. Without fail every year he does the majority of it on Christmas Eve and complains to me that he can't believe how busy it is (!!!!!!).

The house is clean, the tree is lit and I am watching a James Bond marathon on telly in my pj's feeling very relaxed...

(3 minutes!)

Quick observation on parenthood related to incidents that M and I just had recently..

In M's case, the other day he was playing with V, when he threw-up directly on his face..... some of which got precariously close to his mouth. M nonchalantly wiped it off and continued with what he was doing. He confessed to me later that he was really surprised by his reaction..... I think he thought he was going to be more grossed out that he was...

(Timer! Be right back)
Holy dear god does that cake ever smell good.........

Anyways, my incident happened this morning as I was getting ready to give wee V a bottle. He was starting to get fussy, which is generally what happens when he is getting tired and it was getting close to his morning nap time.

I picked him up out of his high-chair, where he was playing with a sippy-cup (in my hopes that he would figure out that there is juice in there and start drinking from it even though I gave it to him for the first time about 3 hours ago....but I digress). I was holding him facing towards me and I lifted him up over my head to give his pants a sniff (as this is what us parents do) and he apparently didn't like this move as he threw up right on the top of my head. RIGHT ON THE TOP OF MY HEAD.

I started laughing hysterically (something which I apparently do a little more often than I did pre-parenthood), which made V smile and giggle.... in the meantime baby-puke is slowly dripping down my scalp on to my neck, and the spit-up that managed somehow to miss the top of my head and hit the floor is being diligently cleaned up by our chihuahua.

Please try to imagine that scene:
Me, covered head to toe (literally too!) in baby-puke, laughing uncontrollably in my living room, with V grinning at me, while our dog frantically licks the carpet surrounding my feet....

Well, what do you do?? I gave V a bottle and then put him down for his nap...... then took a shower, washed the puke out of my hair and decided to bake this darn cake!

It really is amazing how things change with a child. Probably in the past this would have grossed me right out, but now I could care less and in fact ignore it. In the grand scheme of things its just really not that important. Besides, I love my little man too much to even be bothered by him throwing up on me!

Strawberries suck

I just finished wrapping some silly gifts for M and wee V and am pretty sure that I will be hitting the hay in a few minutes....
I think I have solved the mystery of wee V's allergy problem. I fed V applesauce with strawberries again today and about 2 hours later I noticed that his feet were red. I didn't think that much of it until I went to change him and got a better look at them. They looked a little swollen and puffy and had little raised bumps on them. And when I sat him up on the changing table I noticed that he had a red rash on his lower back with some little welts on it. I called Dr E and she agreed with me that it sounded like he was having a reaction to the strawberries.
I mean, we had just started a new formula today, but its soy and so pretty much guaranteed to not be a problem since its designed for the sensitive tummy. And the sauce was the only other thing it could have been. So off I went to get some benadryl..... my poor boo....

That benadryl sure made him sleepy though and right after he had his bedtime bottle he fell asleep in my arms. And has been sleeping ever since. I think I have checked on him oh, about six million times...... I have to wake him up at 11:30 to give him another does and then one more in the morning and hopefully we should be good.

I hope that this is the answer. It would make sense if that was all it was though.... what with my sensitive stomach and my reactions to things like that. Clearly he takes after me in that respect. So no Strawberries!

Funnily enough I really thought it would be the least harmless of the stage 2 foods. Especially since my other choices were things like guava and mango (fruit choices I mean), I really felt confident that apples and strawberries would be a safe choice. Now that I think about it more though I remember some movie where someone put a bag of moldy strawberries under someone elses pillow and it totally made their face all puffy and swollen and awful. Much like (now that I think about it more) V's face looked like the other time he ate it.

Clearly I should try and remember more random movie trivia and apply it to my life...

*Sigh*

Once again its the end of another week, and once again I am exhausted and on the sofa with a lovely glass of Merlot....
Darling V had his 6 month checkup and is a perfectly happy healthy little guy. With the exception of some sort of allergy. Yup! That's right, all that wondering and worrying and such a simple answer. What exactly he's allergic to is another story.... As the answer could really be anything, Dr E urged us to start with simple things like detergent and formula, so we are making the switch to soy (as we have already made the switch with the detergent, which is nice as M now smells even better all the time now!). I am really hoping that one or the other will be the answer before we get into the down-and-dirty with the food elimination.

So the week was off to a rather rough start, what with the doctor's appointment. And then the computer crash..... so disappointing! And literally it happened minutes after M transferred about 450 pictures from our camera card to the desktop. And didn't save them to disc, as it was late at night. Which contained some lovely pictures that M had taken of V and I at a local park. It was the first time we had actually sat him in the grass and let him check things out. The grassy areas around our apartment are heavily ummmmmm 'decorated' by our neighbourhood animals, I shudder to even think about letting him play there.

Anyways...... where was I going with all of this.... oh yes, there also was the incident of me dumping a large Toasted Almond coffee all over my new handbag, which made it smell rather unpleasantly of wet leather and coffee for a few days.

It all culminated this morning....

I have this routine every morning.

I usually:
1: Take V out to car, buckle him up, give his little face kisses (from me and his puppy-dog who lives in our car)
2: Drive to Dunkin' Donuts, get large large large coffee to go
3: Drive to Ginette's and drop off V (more kisses to his little sweet face)
4: Drive to work


This morning I:
1: Took V out to car, buckled him up, gave his little face kisses (from me and his puppy-dog who lives in our car)
2: Drove to Dunkin' Donuts, got large Toasted Almond coffee to go
3: Drove to work

Do you see the step I am missing there??

I got about oh, half-way to work when I heard a little rattle in the back-seat. V was being very very very quiet, he may have dozed off even! As soon as I realized he was back there I just started laughing..... not completely hysterically, but perhaps close. Perhaps if I had had a little more coffee this would have been avoided. I pulled a u-turn at the Marriot and headed back into Hunters Creek, back to Ginette's to drop off darling boy-o.
One of my girlfriends had told me that she lives in fear of this happening to her, and I was all like "Right. How could that ever happen! That would never happen to either of us! We are two together, highly organized people...."

But wait! I am forgetting one important factor! Sleep!! The sleep that I don't get! The sleep that my darling friend also doesn't get has her little one is 3 weeks younger than V! So much for the two of us collaborating in thought. Two sleep deprived minds don't make a right.

I called M to laugh at my mistake and he said "Oh, I am totally telling my Mum" while he laughed along with me. His Mum who gave me 'a look' when I brought it up at their house this evening (their house, which I might add which was at least 6 million degrees hotter than the outside even though its winter in Florida). Who then started to talk about how that is something that happens all the time and that I should really be more careful, or something to that effect..... I wasn't listening as I was sweating so much from the lack of air-conditioning-slash-any air movement at all in their house. Seriously!

Anyways, I couldn't believe I had forgotten about him. And I really wished I could have taken him to work with me too. I am sure he would have been very helpful. He does help me carry my keys to the car...

Anti fuzz...

The fuzzy sheets are gone....

I think its punishment from God for buying them at Ross.

What I am trying to say is that my son has sensitive skin, something we have been battling for a while. His face had been looking a little rough, the result of repeated scratching of his face. I religiously cut his nails and file them, so they won't cut his little sweet face. I call it 'manicure time', which M hates, which is probably why I continue to call it that =] I love teasing my husband. Anyways, nails are trimmed and his face is always slathered with Eucerin and washed daily.

He's had repeated dry spots on his cheeks, which are aggravated by the scratching. It seems to come and go. Recently it had gone (which we were so happy about), but now it's returned with a vengeance. Like it has a vendetta or something. Its just plain awful. And there are 2 little puffy spots under his eyes, and that is what got me thinking that its more than just scratching this time.

So I tried to think of what I had changed recently in his little world that could possibly cause this....

* Same formula--check!
* Same clothing, all cotton-- check!
* Same detergent (Dreft, such a funny name)--check!
* Same 'sensitive skin' body wash (by Dove)--check!
* Same baby cereal/baby food--check!
* Same sheets on crib mattress--che.....hey, wait a minute!

I put non-cotton sheets on his mattress, and now that he sleeps on his tummy, he rubs his little face on the sheets as he's settling down for the night. Hmmm..... could this be the problem?

So I ripped them off and put the regular ones back on. And before I put him to bed I washed his little face and slathered it with Eucerin and Aquaphor and am really hoping that I will see some improvement in the morning.

I moved V up to stage 2 food, which is a little thicker and comes in a few more exciting flavours and combos. So I thought that I would try something new for him and got him an applesauce/strawberry combo, which I though sounded rather yummy.

Which actually was rather yummy. I was curious as to what it tasted like! I have tried most of the jarred food he has eaten so far, and banana is my current favorite. I offered M a taste, and he refused. Flat out. No way. I think his exact words were something like "My dad said I didn't have to try it", which made me laugh sooooo much. Oh my gorgeous husband is so ridiculous sometimes (really all the time).

Anyways, for some reason, what with V's red raw little face in the forefront of my mind, I kept thinking about my childhood obsession with strawberries. My mum has told me repeatedly about how she has (ha! bad grammer, but it stays.....she doesn't limit my strawberry intake anymore) to limit how many I ate. I could eat 6, but if I ate more that that, I would be sick. I usually would sneak a few more. And then be sick.

And as I was feeding him applesauce with strawberries this morning for the second time, I wondered to myself if, since he looks so much like M if that would mean that he would take after me in some respects. Like with strawberries.....

Anyways, tonight is night 1 post-fuzzy sheets, and I hope hope hope darling V's wee face looks better tomorrow! I'll keep you updated...

Fuzzy Sheets

I finally have come to the realization that my little boy is growing up.

Just last week he rolled over for the first time, and ever since then he is a rolling mad man. M and I are not prepared for this! We had become very comfortable with putting him down somewhere and having him stay there (bouncy seat, bumbo jungle mat etc). We would move him around the house to various spots and do our work around him (laundry, dusting, grading papers....). We are having a hard time adjusting to the idea that he is mobile (partially anyways) and really are at a loss of how to handle it!

The weather in FLA is finally starting to actually feel like proper winter-ish weather and I might maybe have enough warm clothes for V (finally....maybe...). I bought him some fuzzy sheets for his little crib so his bed would be warmer. We are totally all over the 'no blankets in the crib' thing, and I felt horrible about just laying him down in the middle of the crib with nothing surrounding him. So I was all over the fuzzy-wuzzy sheets thing.

Anyways, those sheets must have been nice as in the middle of the night I found him flipped over, sleeping peacefully on his tummy.

Which freaked me out.

A lot.

As you may or may not know, the current philosophy is that 'back is best' when it comes to putting babies to bed. Although, when I was a baby sleeping on the tummy was the thing. It probably will change again when my little man grows up and has babies of his own (oh god!), but at any rate thats where we are now. All literature fully and completely supports this, and of course we want to do what's best for our darling V.

Anyways, so I flipped him back and he snoozed the rest of the night away on his back.

The following night, M got up and check on him only to find him sleeping happily away on his tummy, he freaked out, flipped him back and came back to bed. I got up a while later, checked on him and found him sleeping on his side, so I gently eased him onto his back. He woke up and was on his side in seconds. And I was at such a loss of what to do with him that I picked him up and took him to bed with me (which is delicious).

Today I rushed home from my company's christmas party, picked up V from the in-laws and headed home. We had dinner and a bath and then became a fussface and so I put him to bed. The second his back hit the mattress, he was over on his side again, reaching for the crib bumper and attempting to stuff it in his mouth. My mind was like "Ok! Thats the end of that! Bye bye crib bumpers!" and I removed them on the spot. His little feet immediately went through the bars of the crib and got stuck and he screamed in suprise, but we fixed that. I think he was kind of suprised/shocked that they were gone so suddenly. There were a couple of little whimpers and after a bit of wiggling around he went right to sleep.

I watched him as he slept, and marvelled at how different he looked in that crib. When we first brought him home he was soooooo tiny in it. So small that we could lie him with head and feet between the long lengths of the crib. Now he sleeps in it like any normal person sleeps in a bed. And now it has no bumpers so the crib looks so bare and prison-like (as I was just saying to Loo on the phone). All those bars....sigh..... my big boy....

anyways, off to bed for me! Mr V-P and I are off to see Santa tomorrow, its a big day!

Post Turkey

I am right smack in the middle of a wonderful stretch of days off, which means that I get extra time with darling V. Darling V who is terribly clever these days and figured out how to roll over and now can't do anything else!
He did it for the first time on Tuesday, while M was home with him. I can't ever believe how glad I am that he rolled over at home with us for the first time. He is in daycare all week long, so there's is always that worry that we are going to miss his big moments. Thankfully we didn't miss this one!

M survived a whole week home with V by himself! Amazing! There were a few moments that were touch and go, that I am not at liberty to report on =]

I am still feeling the effects of Thanksgiving dinner and the run-off from Black Friday, which I stupidly went out in. Clearly I was still feeling the effects of the turkey, because there is no other explanation for why I decided it was a good idea to go shopping AND to take wee V with me!

Poor V was so tired yesterday from all of the fun and excitement of Gramma and Pop-pop's house that he went right to bed last night without a fuss. And tonight too. Which is where I should be as the tiredness I am experiencing is making me unfunny... which is awful!

Must sleep.....

Sleep

Saturday night finds me on the sofa watching "Hellboy 2" with a glass of wine. So pleasant.

Darling V is finally in bed. He is clock-work in his crankiness (which he gets equally from both M and I), always when he gets hungry and just before bed.

I hope that he sleeps all night tonight. Oh please, I hope and pray he does! He was sleeping so well, but then started waking up at all hours. And wiggling his little body into all sorts of places in his crib, which would scare him and result in a late night wake-up call for mummy.

I always think that his lack of sleeping is a result of a growth spurt, but its been about 3 weeks of the up-at-all-hours and I seriously can't imagine that he would be growing constantly for that long. Figuring out his bedtime meal is like a complicated math problem that I just can't solve. I was feeding him too much, so I fed him less which turned out not to be enough. And in the mean time, his appetite increased, so when I increased his food it still wasn't enough. I might almost be there though. Fingers crossed for tonight!

Next week is Thanksgiving down here, and M is off the whole week. And V is staying home from daycare to spend some time with his Papa. Hopefully M will survive!

I am up way past my bedtime (which, apparently, ideally is way before 9 pm.... even 8 pm is ok too). Long gone are those days when M and I would stay up partying all night and get home as the sun was coming up. And then sleep until 2 pm. And then do it again the next night. Sometimes we reminisce "Remember that time when we left that club in Hamamatsu and it was 8 am and we passed our boss on her way in to the office, while we were on our way home?". Good times....

I *heart* M Part 2

Last night I caught M doing something that I could hardly even believe. I know he's going to read this too and be oh, probably embarrassed and slightly annoyed with me. I know this because I told him I was going to write about it on purpose just because he told me not to.

While he was lying in bed last night, getting ready to settle in and watch a dvd I came in and plunked a basket of baby laundry on the bed. Our darling child seems to go through an amazing amount of clothing. I am still making the transition from 'Florida summer' to 'Florida winter' clothes and have yet to purchase enough long pants and warmer clothes for him, so he wears layers and layers of things..... more things for him get dirty! (and by get dirty I mean drool on and spit up all over).

I love his little clothes, and sadly enjoy folding them. While I was pregnant, I washed and ironed every little piece of clothing that I bought for him. Probably because I was pregnant. Not because I like ironing.

Anyways, there I was folding some laundry. And after folding a few things, Mike must have felt like he should help so he sat up and started folding some socks. And some more socks. And then another pair of socks. Followed by some more socks.

Finally I clued in.

He was selectively folding!

And when I finally realized that I knew what he was doing, he burst out laughing . And then looked really guilty.

Try to imagine what he must have been thinking. "Onesie? Too complicated" *puts it back and picks up another onesie* "Hmm, looks kinda difficult" *throws it back in hamper and picks up a bib* "How the heck do you fold this?! I'll leave it for Jame" *tosses it down and picks up a sweater "Ummmmm.... ooh socks!" *folds socks and reaches into basket and picks up a blanket* "This one's the shape of a square! I can fold squares!".....etc etc etc.

If he is selectively folding, what else is he selectively doing?

Something I will be pondering for the next little while....

Holiday season

In a wonderful turn of events, I was able to sleep until 6:30 this morning! (Mind you that 4 hours or so were spent on the couch, with my hands curled around V as we both dozed together.... very cosy...). Currently he is on his jungle playmat, grabbing toys and rolling from side to side. He has this look of extreme concentration on his little face as he wiggles around. I am utterly convinced that he is going to roll completely over at any minute, and so am watching intently as I write this morning.

I am having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that its the middle of November, and Thanksgiving will be here in a heartbeat, followed by Christmas in a nanosecond. So far I have done nothing to prepare for "Baby's First Christmas". I am looking into getting him a stocking, and am contemplating getting him a monogrammed one. Ideally, if I had a sewing machine I would be making him one. But, alas, my sewing machine now belongs to my sister in Canada so we will just have to do with a store bought one.

M is fixated on getting a real Christmas tree this year (we bought a fake one the year before). Real Christmas trees are so sad in Florida. The lots where you go and buy them are no way at all like buying them in Canada.

Tree buying 101:

* must be purchased from grocery store/liquor store parking lot.
* must be at least 3 Boy Scouts in attendance
* the weather MUST be near or below 30 for sure (or there should at least be a chill in the air)
* there should be tree debris all over everything
* the person that you actually pay for the tree should be pretty surly (because they are watching after a bunch of Boy Scouts at 8 pm on a tuesday night)

I know there are other rules, but its been a while since I have bought a tree in Canada.

Christmas trees in Florida are usually sold in an empty lot on the side of the road. An empty lot which has at least 5 palm tress on it (hence ruining the vision of christmas-y things). The grass of said lot should definetly be brown. Inflatable christmas decorations should be everywhere. Its depressing. I feel bad for the trees, which you know came from nowhere nearby. And are super expensive, and there are always tons left which will sadly be disposed of in a most depressing manner (which is why we got a fake one. Its just too sad).

Yesterday on the news (or what passes for the news) the reporters were showing a huge line of people at a toy drive. At first I thought they were dropping off gifts, which I thought was awesome. How wonderful to see so many people giving! But it turned out to be people lining up to receive instead.

I found this odd. Its November and the middle of November too! Thanksgiving is still 2 weeks away! Not that people who are in need should wait until December 24 to collect gifts for their children, but it just seemed really really early.

The other thing that really bothered me was that the reporter made some kind of comment about how families and their children needed the toys. I think it was the use of the word 'need' that bothered me. And I am having the hardest time articulating why that particular word bothered me so much(I have deleted about 10 sentences trying to explain). Children need clothes, need food, need education, need a mother and father (or some derivitive of that), need love and attention. These are things that I would define as being needed. Maybe its not so much the word, as the reporter's emphasis on receiving instead of giving thats my problem.

M and I have decided this year to really cut back on Christmas gifts for ourselves. And for wee V too. We are only spending $100 each. We each have $25 to spend on V (and what we buy is secret from the other person.... we like to complete), and the other $75 we spend on each other. And thats it. This year family members are getting homemade gifts. I don't want Christmas to be so focused on the buying, as thats something that I have always found stressful. And I don't want V to be too spoiled. I don't want him to anticipate so much on birthdays or Christmas. I realize that he isn't even going to notice this year, or even next..... its more so for M and I, but regardless....

Anyways, Mr Fuss-face in his jump-a-roo is making some angry "Mummy. MUMMY!!! Pay attention to me!!!!" noises, so off I go to applaud his jumping and tell him how amazing he is at it!

Friday night musings...

My darling child decided this morning that 4 am was the time he was going to wake up, and nothing was going to change his mind! Not even a cuddle with Mummy on the sofa, a rattly-chewy thing, Mummy's hand (to chew on), not one single thing! 4 am it was! Followed quickly by breakfast please! Mummy! Breakfast! MUMMY! BREAKFAST! MMMMUUMMMMMMMMMMMYYYY!!

So we had some delicious rice cereal with bananas, which improved wee V's mood immensely. Followed by our new favorite game of "Look! I can sit up by myself(with only a little, just a little help from my Mummy/Daddy).

Followed by M dressing V, the end result of which is the most entertaining thing. M seems to favorite a "no socks, basketball shorts (orange) w/random animal onesie" approach to dressing V, so he always looks like he getting ready for the big game at a wildlife preserve. (Note to self: need headband for V to complete sports look).

Anyways, Friday is always the longest day, and so the sofa is extra comfortable on this particular night. The mind feels relaxed and open for some sweet ramblings....

Random things I saw this week on the side of the road....

* a leftie rubber boot
* a mattress
* someones missing fake leg
* a prostitute

Favorite quote of the week:
"I love how you're workin' that chain..." (ANTM)

I continuously feel annoyed by peoples spelling and grammar errors (except for my own, then I just feel disgusted).

I am currently wondering why it seems like women portrayed in the media recently seem more and more like sex objects then anything else. It seems like TV is a never ending stream of bra commercials (which I find about as entertaining as tampon/pad ads). While exercise on stripper-poles may indeed work 'those muscles you never knew you had', the idea of exercising on a pole makes me feel objectified. And then I churlishly wonder why there are never any men in those adverts!?! Don't they want to work those muscles? And at the same time learn some new moves? It's hard for me to articulate how annoyed this makes me feel.

I might be in love with David Tennant. You know, that actor who plays the 'new' Dr Who?? I love him. And I love Dr Who.

I also love sleep, sleep which I need to embrace now.
I love sleep almost as much as I love David Tennant.
Which is a lot apparently....

Laura Ingalls Wilder

Once again I am up early early. While I know its the weekend, Mr V over here still gets up at 5:15 just like he does during the week.

However, with a new episode of Grey's Anatomy to watch and a mug of hot chocolate with home-made marshmallows, its a nice way to start the weekend.

I think I am turning my son into an early tv-junkie. We, on occasion, play him those 'Baby Einstein-type videos', which really should be labeled 'baby-crack', as V will just gaze intensely at it until the dvd has ended and not make a single noise. The TV tends to be on almost all of the time we are home though, M watches a lot of sports on the weekend and also while he does all of his grading.

Right now V is lounging in his bouncy chair (fighting sleep) in the livingroom, while I type away and watch those shows that I like that I record as I don't have time to watch them during the week. I face his little chair away from the tv,but just noticed his little neck craning around to watch Grey's Anatomy, and then he cooed during a Desperate Housewives commercial. Maybe it was all the pretty (overly botoxed) ladies with their shiney hair and colourful clothes? Who knows, but it surprised me.

I changed the channel to an old Jackie Chan movie, and he fell asleep. Well, at least I know what he thinks of that! (I love Jackie Chan and M does not, so clearly he takes after his father)

When my sister and I were little, we lived way up in the country, down an oiled gravel road out in the middle of the forest. In retrospect, it was all very "Little House on the Prarie". We read lots of Laura Ingalls Wilder, built 'fairy houses', raided the neighbours chicken coop (well, maybe thats not very L.I.W.). We did have a tv, but we only had one or 2 channels. We mostly watched the Sunday night Disney special at 6 pm, and then went right to bed. When we moved down the Island to Sidney, we got 13 channels which was so exciting to us! Even more exciting for me as my sister couldn't read that well. (Hurray poor reading skills!)

Actually I mean that after school I would read the tv guide, as she couldn't, and then I would tell her precisely what was on tv. But only if it was something I wanted to watch. Any shows that she liked were never on when I had that tv guide in my hands. Such a nice big sister I was!

I guess what I am trying to say is that we were never really exposed to huge amounts of tv when we were younger, which I think is good. And that I also don't want my son to be totally reliant on tv as entertainment. The imagination is a much better tool for entertainment.

I just caught my son sneaking a peek at Jackie Chan.... he is indeed my son after all!

My new special skills...

I am indeed a superhero.
My new skills are practically magical in nature.

Let me share...

My first new skill I discovered a few weeks ago.
It is the ability to create a song at the drop of a hat, entirely based on the circumstances.

Now I am not a tuneful person. I love karaoke, but can't carry a tune and happily inflict my karaoke stylings on anyone who will listen. Usually after a glass of wine. Or two. (I do a wicked 'Life is a Cabaret").

Anyways, my child will happily do anything while we sing.

Now my husband cracks me up.
He will stand over V (while V is happily kicking his little chubby legs in his bouncy chair), grin like a lunatic while clapping his hands like a small child and shout "There was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o...B-I-N-G-O!! B-I-N-G-O!". V loves it and those little legs kick harder and faster then ever before...

It is the funniest thing ever, and I never tire watching him do it.

I sing a little differently...

Here's a sample play-list:

1: Vincent's in the kitchen with Mummy (Someones in the kitchen with Dinah)
2: Scrub scrub scrub your toot (Row row row your boat)
3: Poops in the pants, poops in the pants! (Farmer in the dell)
4: Chomp chomp (Vincent is the baby with the sharp teeth....... sung to no particular tune at all)
those are my most recent ones...

My other most magical of skills amazes me every time it happens.

Picture this.....

Wee V pitching a fit in his crib, legs kicking, cries increasing in volume by the second.(classical music playing softy and serenely in the background)
Small legs lifting and slamming themselves down on a tiny mattress with increasing force (thuds echoing over baby monitor).

:V's room door opens:

mummy enters stage right and approaches crib side...

Mummy places a hand on the tummy of the writhing wailing child.

Instantly the wails cease and sleep commences immediately.

Its so odd. Literally I place my hand on him, and he instantly falls asleep. Its astonishing and magical. And astounds me every time it happens.

And so again I am a super hero

I *heart* M

I really have intended to write in this with some regularity, but man is that a challenge with all of the things to do in a day.

My day tends to start around 2:30, and then it starts again around 5:15.

Last night it started around 11pm. And then 2:30 and then again at 5:15.

It was M's turn with the baby last night, which somehow always results in me getting less sleep than if I had gotten up myself.

Usually its so entertaining when my husband gets up at with the baby, its hard to be upset with him when it results with me waking up too.

There was the time when he turned on the hall light (my side of the bed looks straight into the hall) and left it on while he was up.

Or the time when he noisily slammed the bathroom door, peed like a racehorse and then dropped the toilet-seat onto the porcelain which had me rearing out of bed like I had been shot.

Or the time when he woke me up to ask me if there was a bottle ready in the fridge. Heavens forbid he should look himself!

Really there are far to many "There was the time..." so I won't bore you with them all. But I am sure they are happening to you too!

Last night wasn't that bad. V sort of slept through the night.
He woke up screaming.... my poor boo, so in I run to see whats wrong, and he is soaking (SOAKING!!) wet and stink fumes were practically emanating from him. I carried him at arms length to his changing table, laid him down and unsnapped his pj's.

And what do I find?

What do I see that makes me doubt my husband's diaper changing skills??

A full on diaper-wedgie!

How on earth is this possible, you ask?? Diapers are practically duct-taped on to children these days! But it is indeed possible if its the middle of the night and you are my husband.
God bless him...

It was almost as if he had laid the diaper gently on top of his peeps (as I term it) and tucked it delicately under his tooter (as I also term it). Nothing was strapped on (teehee). Peeps and tooter were totally exposed! OMG!

So no wonder he was soaked! It was like he went to bed naked!
So the diaper had worked its way straight up there..*sigh*

I love my husband so much, mostly because he makes me laugh...

Another Pleasant Valley Sunday...

One lovely Sunday morning...

Little peanut let Mummy sleep until 6:30, and is currently having a snooze in his swing.

I have a cup of coffee with soy vanilla creamer in it, I'm watching Pillow Talk and surfing Facebook. So in all, its a great way to start the morning. M is still sleeping, lord knows what time he got home from work last night. The house is nice and quiet.

I wish sometimes that we lived in a more northern climate. As much as its nice to have such lovely sunny hot days down here in the South, with fall firmly here I long for chilly weather and gorgeous maple leaves.
And scarves, gloves and sweaters. And slippers (although my dog has a tendency to attack my feet when I wear them). And necessary cups of tea in the evening. And my duvet. Currently I am lounging around the house in shorts, and yesterday was blisteringly hot and humid. And its October.

It doesn't get that cold until December or January. It gets cool in the evenings before then, but right proper cold doesn't hit until well into winter.

My husband is a master of internet surfing, he often sends me links to very ridiculous sites he find...

Here is one of his.... meowmeow

I am not as good as him, but this one is not too shabby....

yay bacon!

and with that, I am off....

Friday night(s)

Thankfully it's Saturday.
I am pretty sure that this is the best day of the week.
Currently Friday is the worst, which is odd since it is usually considered the numero uno most awesome day of the week.
Unfortunately for my husband, its not his favorite since he goes from teaching straight to Disney, where he serves in a fancy-smancy restaurant Friday and Saturday nights. So Friday is his worst as its the longest day of his whole week. And it certainly feels like the longest for me too. I rush from work straight home to walk the dog (who is desperately waiting for someone to take him out), and then change quickly and off to my in-laws who are oh-so-nice and pick up V from daycare. And I visit with them, and then head back home to feed the darling boy and try and pay some attention to the poor dog. Poor dog who was so recently the number one child in our family and has now been demoted to a very low 2 (poor thing).

Perhaps I should start at the beginning of the day when I am up around 4 or 5, depending on the day. Or sometimes 3:30.... that doesn't just apply to Fridays though, its everyday. Even when M gets up with him, I still wake up. I think that just goes with the mummy territory though
Friday nights when I have put V to bed and am unwinding by washing a million baby bottles are so nice. Even with the never-ending washing. Really its just the thought of 2 straight uninterrupted days with my darling son that makes it so wonderful.

This weekend is even better!
Not only is it Thanksgiving (for us Canadians that is...) but I took Monday off.
Tomorrow I am attempting to cook dinner for my family (which hopefully will be edible), and Monday I have an extra day with Captain Adorable. Which will be wonderful even though he is going to the doctor AND getting shots. I am dying of curiosity to find out how much he weighs. Currently he is a huge sac-o-potatoes...

must sleep in preparation for monster dinner tomorrow...

I am going bald

Currently this is at the top of my list....

I really wish that I would stop loosing my hair.

I had lush, thick gorgeous hair during pregnancy, which comes with the territory. And post-delivery, it was still there.
But lately I have noticed its falling out. And not just a little, a huge amount.

And the only reason I am thinking about this is I just took a shower. And while I was washing and rinsing my hair (while I was thinking about how nice my body-wash smelt and enjoying what little time alone I now have--a shower is now like a nap to me) I noticed huge clumps knotted around my fingers. Watching it drift towards the drain was disturbing (as is the image of my hair in the bottom of the tub, I am sure). There was so much hair it almost looked like a small animal. And my hair is curly, so it was like a small curly-haired animal. Like a baby sheep. Circling the drain.... baby sheep-hair....what on earth am I talking about..

Of course I had noticed this before.... for the last 6 to 8 weeks or so. And by now, the amount of hair of mine that has floated down into the Floridian sewers has, I am sure, been the bedding in many a lovely little rat-nest bed, I can't help but wonder when it will stop.

Because at this current rate of loss, I am sure that I am heading towards baldness at an alarming speed. Like tomorrow.

I know this is part of the post-pregnancy thing, but honestly.... when will it end please god! My imagination cannot handle the thought of all of the rat-beds I am furnishing, nor the idea that I am sending little baby sheep-hair animals to their certain death in the sewers below.

And also I just, plain and simple, don't like seeing all of the hair. Even though to be honest my hair doesn't really look all that thinner, but I have had enough of leaving a little trail of curly hairs everywhere I go. Not those hairs, you perv... regardless

I have had enough.
It is time for this hair suicide to end!

Silliness

Most annoying, frivolous, irritating and hugest waste of time lawsuit ever, which perfectly illustrates to me that the American society is lawsuit-happy.

It falls into the same category as suing McDonalds for getting fat off their products.
Or for suing a company for being burned by coffee that is too hot.
Or suing a nudie bar because the dancers breasts were too large and they caused whiplash.

And it just gets more and more ridiculous...

Sliced apples are annoying

The last few months seem like a blur when I think back on them. Especially when I look at my little boy, who really has become a little boy! His personality is really starting to shine and its hard to imagine him as being anything less than he is now.
The evolution is so slow you hardly even notice the time passing, and then all of a sudden 4 months are gone...

Post-pregnancy is a whole world of things that books or other peoples personal experiences cannot really prepare you for. But perhaps no-one is really willing to share the cold hard truth of it with others for fear of scaring those pregnant or soon-to-be...

It is what I imagine Rumpelstiltskin would have felt like after he awoke from that decades long slumber.

Its like your body restarting after being out in the cold all winter.

Its a lot of things you didn't ever think would be a factor.
Without going into too much detail (god forbid you should hear from me), it is an interesting experience. But funnily enough it it fits in well with motherhood, being another of those things easily forgotten as it passes.

Labour being the first and foremost.

And maybe the only other thing.

That is easily forgotten, I mean.

It was so agonizing, all of the lead up to the actual event. And then so intense for such a short period of time. And then everything just drifts away at the first glimpse of that new little being... and continued to drift in the weeks following, that the unpleasantness was easily pushed to the side in the light of the wonderousness (probably not a word) and awe of the most perfect child ever created (and seriously I know all new parents say that, but really in my case its actually true...).

Let me introduce a wee vice of mine. Celebrity gossip.
So addicting.
Must read every day.
Must read blogs on CGos every day.
Get withdrawal symptoms if not read.

However, the most annoying thing ever has got to be celebrity mums.

In light of the post pregnancy unpleasantness it is really hard to look at these creatures (as sometimes that how I feel....grrr...) as even real, and equally hard to imagine that they could possibly be going through the same things as me.

Post-pregnancy weight loss is a current huge peeve with me, probably as I am going through it. Sans personal chef, personal trainer, and 24 hour nannies.

So its terribly annoying to see women like Nicole Kidman who look like someone just cut and pasted a preg bump on their tummy and who probably (like Michael K says) just had a pillow stuffed under their shirt. And even more annoying to hear about the carefully balanced meals these people were eating. We all know that no-one was eating a sliced apple, 2 pieces of wheat toast and a handful of almonds for breakfast. Please.

Personally I think my body is perfectly fine post-pregnancy. Privately I think I need to go to the gym more. Curiously I ponder when the hell I will fit it all in.
And annoyed I wonder how many more of these stupid magazines I will read before I really really really realize that even though I look wide-eyed at 'articles' entitled "Celebs!! They're just like us!!", these creatures are not and to increase my sanity levels I really should stop reading those magazines.
And I will.
When my subscription runs out.

Life

Parenthood.
Such a wonderful thing. The hardest thing ever, of course, but also the most most rewarding.
In spite of my firm efforts to evenly share the trials and tribulations of it with my husband, being the mummy makes things uneven. There is no way at all to level that playing field.

Breast feeding makes things uneven from the start. And we are off!!
The late night feedings, mummy up all night.... and if you are like me, you try to do it all. Cleaning, bathing, feeding, changing etc etc etc and also work full time. It makes for a busy day...
Even with the offers of help, we want to do it all. But at the same time we want help. But help, at least for me anyways, is a very hard thing to ask for.

When I got married, I really thought that I would make sure that my husband and I split things evenly. Work, household duties and all that. I certainly wasn't going to have the sort of marriage like my mother had. There would be clear delineation of duty.
And there was, for a time. But as we started to go more comfortable in our marriage, things started to change. After my husband did a few loads of laundry, I quickly took over that duty. And after he made the bed a few times, I took that over as well.
I tend to be very specific in how I want things to be, and lord help the husband that doesn't follow my very specific ideas! (My husband is a very patient man)

And eventually I ended up doing the things that women traditionally do, even though I traditionally didn't want to.
Parenthood seems to follow the same path.

There are things that the mummy does that the daddy cannot.
And any mummy reading this knows exactly what I mean, even though its very hard to explain completely.
It just is....

Things I don't understand...

Why a shocking amount of men have started wearing shirts that are not only shockingly low cut/deep vee'd, but are also totally sheer and nipple revealing.
Sheer?? Not so attractive...
Deep vee/low cut?? Only in 1970 and paired with gold medallions..

Child-like

I have a serious confession to make.
Its not what you think, and its rather embarrassing.
But not that kind of embarrassing, if you know what I mean. Not like a David-Duchovny-sex-addiction kind of embarrassing, just regular embarrassing.

I am addicted to kid lit.... children's stories. And not just Harry Potter kind of stories.... although HP does double duty, but all kid's books and fables. And movies...oh, and 'Original made-for-tv movies'.
Like the one I am watching right now (Samurai Girl). Happily my husband is not at home and I can wallow in the luxury of watching this by myself and not having to put up with his snarky comments. Truly its delicious.

When I was a child my favorite book was "The Big Orange Splot". Oh man, did I ever love that book. And I carried that love with me into adulthood. I told my husband about it years ago, and he tracked it down and gave it to me as a Christmas present one year. Rereading it was a terribly wonderful treat.

And there are others.... that darn Alanna "The Woman who Rides like a Man" series, any and all old-school Disney movies from the 50's and 60's, Swiss Family Robinson, High School Musical....oh I could go on and on... but I won't...

I don't know exactly what it is that draws me in to these stories. Maybe its because I secretly long for my life to be like these stories? I would like to live in a house shaped like a boat or a castle. I wish that my cat was from outer space AND that she could talk. I want to disguise myself as a boy and enter knight-school and kick some serious ass. I really want to build an awesome tree house on a tropical island.

Speaking of tree houses..... my father used to have a cabin on a lake when I was little. We spent a lot of time there in the summer, my sister and I, when my Dad had us for his 2 week period. He was dating my stepmother at the time and she has two boys. They had built a little tree house right next to the cabin that Lins and I were obsessed with. We would spend the whole day up there, hammering away at random things, making 'curtains', that sorta thing.

I remember we were so pleased with ourselves, with all of the work that we'd put into the place. We proudly told our soon-to-be brothers about all of our work, and they scoffed at us! Told us that we had somehow made it impossible to get into the treehouse now with the pieces that we'd added, and they had just finished ripping them out!! Unbelievable! So clearly I was not meant to build a tree house... perhaps just live in one. Regardless...

Mostly they have such strong yet flawed main characters. Like me..... strong yet flawed. Like everyone. The stories reinforce humanity's simialrities. Even if we are visually so different, we are all the same but long to be different. Which makes us the same.

Perhaps a general interpretation that is a little too deep for childern's books.

I know I still want to be like Alanna though, even though its been at least 15 years since I first read her story.
And I still think it would be amazing if my breakfast came raining down out of the sky. Or if my dog suddenly talked.
All of those movies and stories keep my imagination fresh and alive and I love it. And honestly, while I say its embarrassing it's not. Not really anyways!

Fast lane...

I enjoy having issues with things. I am sure everyone does..... I am happy swim in my issues. I like to get right in there and rant away. If it doesn't make sense, fine!! Just don't interrupt.
And rambling.... I like that too...

It feels like the pace of life has picked up. Not just my life, what with having a son and all, but life in general. And not just mine, everyones...
(I am currently watching the movie Speed, and they are getting ready to jump the bus... )
I don't know if this is as a result of getting older.... I remember when I was a child, a birthday took a lifetime to arrive, and I would carefully measure my age in terms of how close I was to my next one. I remember solemnly anouncing that I was 4 and a quarter.
(They totally jumped the bus and it was awesome!!)
Now my birthday just flashes by, and this year it was the hugest non-event ever. I hardly noticed to be honest.
But really what I mean is the speed at which everything is happening. As in driving.
And people's total impatience at everything that even hints at 'slow'...

In Florida no-one even stops at a stop sign anymore. They just roll on through.... and I don't mean slowly inch forward and kind of make it look like they are stopping. I mean, people corner like they are on rails. There is no attempt to even make it look like stopping. Some people even speed up as they approach stop signs.

(Isn't it funny that I am talking about speed and I am watching Speed at the same time?? )
It seems like even the act of stopping is deemed too much of a hassle.
(Keanus is currently clinging to the underside of the bus with a screwdriver)
When did this happen?? This utter lack of patience?
In Florida, people actually use the merge lane to pass slower cars. And use exit ramps as a means to bypass them as well. It makes it tricky to navigate the roadways these days as you never know what the car in front of you is going to do. Speed up? Stop abruptly? Use hazard lights to park on a crosswalk? Who knows... its a mystery...
(Keanu's range as an actor is........umm...narrow... how can love and anger be the same?)

However, one should be careful as to how one reacts to all of this bad driving. My husband was careful to warn me never to flip off the car next to me as you never knew if they had a gun on the passenger seat or not. I get random road-rage, which has increased incident-wise since I moved South.
Once, someones poor parking lot manouvering skills led me to making a face at them. I then parked my car, went shopping and returned to find a note on my windshield that simply said "You are a moron." Nice.
(Who thinks Keanu's acting skills have improved since this movie? Ah......no.....)

Anyways, it just seems like everyone is so impatient. No-one wants to wait for anything. The faster the better. Instant gratification. Do it. Now. Do it! Now!!
Now!
Everyone wants life streamlined and easy. And the worst example of this is those darn birthcontrol ads. Why have your period 12 times a year, when you could have it 4??
Seriously, then why even have it at all? I guess if we have pills to create erections and drugs to increase fertility, then why not pills to decrease menstruation? And of course, laser treatments to permanently remove body hair.
(Wow, I am lucky tonight.... Speed is followed by Speed 2!!! Sweet!)
Everytime I think of laser hair removal, I think of a contest a local radio station had where the listeners could vote on what shape one of the female radio hosts had her pubic hair lasered into.
Seriously, who wants to be 80 and have their pubes in the shape of a dollar sign! Or a heart?

I am too tired tonight to be any more coherent than I am now... hopefully you get my gist though...
(man, I almost spelled 'gist' with a 'j'.......... jist.... looks a bit rude)
Speed=not soo good
Taking time to enjoy life=good

My bed+Dr Who Season 1 dvd= Heaven

Night!

News

I am waiting for inspiration to strike...

I have yet to decide what exactly this blog is going to be about. So I am waiting...
Sometimes its hard to decide what to ramble on about on a given day....

Clearly today I am, once again, going to ramble on about nothing....

Off the top of my head, one thing that I find constantly annoying about the United States is the overtly dramatic news programs. This is a topic I love to complain about. I use it as one of my prime examples on how the US of A and Canada are different.
24 hour news programing. Is this something thats really necessary? Really?
(I am watching the worst eighties movie right now....its called "Slamdance")
Mostly it seems as if most of this 24 hour programing is filled with increasingly detailed weather reports, updated every 10 minutes. Lord help us if there is any extreme weather, because then you just get 24 hour weather reporting. Like now! Tropical Storm Fay is currently hovering around Florida, and every news station has reporters spread out over the state, reporting every 10 minutes on whats happening.
(What on earth is he doing with that egg yolk??)
And the news casters at the news station discuss, to the death, every detail of the weather. Its boring..... boring!! And it goes on all day. Once in a while, actual news is on. You know, current topics, stuff on the upcoming election. Actual news. But mostly its weather. Oh, and traffic reports.
(How does one tease ones hair that high??)
So its mostly weather, traffic, little actual news and tons of drama and scare tactics thrown in for good measure. Lots of tag lines like "Crazed sex maniac loose in your neighbourhood?? Find out tonight at 11", "Meth lab discovered in local home. Find out where, tonight at 10". And perhaps you wait, as you really want to know if that meth lab was in your neighbourhood. And the 10 o'clock news comes on, and at 10:59 pm, they say something like "Details are sketchy...blah blah..." and you never find out even a general location.
(Does that woman have a beard?? Is it even a woman? Are they seriously chasing that car on a Vespa? What is wrong with this movie!)
The news is far to dramatic for me. Drama which I find annoying. And violent too. Violence that I find unnecessary. Violence that I do not think needs to be shown during the 'noon hour'.
(Tighty whitey briefs and a trucker hat with reindeer antlers? For a sex scene?)
About sex offender busts, murders, kidnappings, rapes etc. Pretty much every violent thing you can think of. I honestly do not remember any news like this back in Canada. I mean, I am sure there are things like that happening in Canada, but maybe not as much Or if as much, then they aren't getting around-the-clock-lead-story coverage on every major network.
(Members Only jackets are sweet!)
Even CNN, while a better news source, still falls instantly short in my eyes everytime it reports on things like the birth of Brangelina's latest batch of kids, or who Jessica Simpson is dating now.... also not news. Well, its news of sorts, but not news that needs to be on CNN! Thats what celebrity gossip blogs are for!!
(Scruffy unshaven faces, mullets and gold hoop earrings are an irresistable combination)
In general, the States isn't a bad place to live, but I really can do without that kind of drama......

Control

I like plans.
I like making plans.
I like planning how the day will progress.
Often these plans will be thought out days in advance, planned down to the last teeny tiny detail.

I remember my mum telling me a few years ago about what I would often say as we sat down to a dinner that I particularly liked.... "You know, this is yummy, but you know what would be good for tomorrow night's dinner...". That was when I was about 6 or 7, and its only gotten worse since then.
Not only do I like making plans, but I also like to "be prepared". As in be prepared for anything that might maybe could possibly happen at any given moment. What if something happens and if you had just brought that extra something, all catastrophes could have been averted? I know that if I don't bring lip gloss with me, my lips will become drier then they have ever become in my whole life, dry like the Sahara and I will likely be somewhere where lip gloss is not availible for purchase. If I don't bring a sweater with me everywhere, I will freeze to death, even though I live in Florida and this is highly unlikely. I even bring one over to my in-laws house, the temperature of which is always hovering around 95 degrees and you break into a sweat the second you near their front door...
So its best just to make sure you have all of these thing.... just in case....

Since having a baby, the urge to be prepared has reach epic spastic proportions. Being unprepared while out in public with a small child is just inviting disaster. If you forget to bring wipes, that child will spit up all over you and anyone within reach. If you leave the house without extra diapers, you are guaranteed to go through them at an alarming rate, leaving you quickly with none and a child with a furious red grunting face. So I carry a well stocked diaper bag...

But what I like more, more than making plans months in advance.... more than being prepared for any possible catastrophe is making lists.

Oh do I ever like making a good list!! In fact I love it! Its so very satisfying to write down things and cross them off. I assign them numbers, sometimes letters. I underline the parts that are really important. I like to make my lists in pen, and if I make a mistake I tear off that offending piece of paper and start anew. And that is even more satisfying. Clearly I have control issues, but I'm ok with that. So is my husband...

So here is a list of the other things that I like, presented to you in a simple easy-to-read format....no dashes, no numbers or letters... just things that I enjoy:


That rice pudding that my old Danish rooom-mate used to make.
Updating my facebook status
Zombies
Crocheting, or attempting to crochet anyways. I do straight lines really well...
Kitchy tourist attractions
Trashy British novels (not American ones at all)
My husbands cooking skills
Being right all the time, even when I am wrong.
Being pleasantly suprised at the fact that not everyone I went to high school with is a total bitch/jerk
Cleaning up a particularly messy diaper
Filling out tedious paperwork/forms
Reading endless celebrity gossip
British humour
A nice glass of wine
Really really stinky cheese (the stinkier the better!)


And things I dislike as well:

People who use their hazard lights when they are not in any car trouble, and are in fact double parking
People who don't like the way I drive (which is perfect, thank you very much)
Liver (and organ meat in general)
People who don't say "Bless you" when someone sneezes (Its just 2 words!)
The fact that there are still people from high school that are still bitches/jerks
High school
Tourists (I live in Orlando....sigh...)
Excess of use of plastic bags in the States (my magazine does not need its own bag thank you!!)
Spiders
Fake smiles
Talking animals in movies (why?? why!)


How deeply satisfying making lists are...

First...

I know everyone does this nowadays.
Pours their thoughts and feelings out into the web, with a purpose or without. Hoping for.... who knows? Replies from random readers? Release? Revenge? Other things starting with 'r'?
And I guess thats what I am doing too.

I always wanted to write something and did when I was younger. My Mum has drawers full of duotangs (do they still make those?) with careful labels on them. I was addicted to fantasty novels as a child and spent a lot of time drawing very elaborate maps of worlds that I had created, just like you see in the beginning of books by Robert Jordan and the like. These maps would take days to complete, and were detailed down to the branches on the trees that I added here and there to depict whole forests. There would be borders and oceans, mountains and neverending deserts. All of the traditional elements of a fantasty map. And I was convinced that I would, WOULD be able to write the most amazing of all novels , would acheive world-wide acclaim, would become the most famous of all writers....

These were the thoughts that circled my head as I began chapter one of my most brilliant and original novel, the main character of which sounded a bit like me, maybe was a bit of a loner, seemed rather ordinary but deep within there was a spark of something great... you know, the usual plot...

Chapter one would always peter out and the duotang would make its way to that drawer in my Mum's spare bedroom where she tucked all of those things I started. A collection that I am sure is rather massive now, as I seemed back then to start a new novel every weekend.
Once I reached high school, I stopped those weekend productions. And once I started University, the thoughts circled again. Here, for sure, I would learn all sorts of skills that would enable me to write with amazing vision. Not that I took classes in writing or anything of the sort. It would come naturally, I assumed, as I practised and honed my craft writing various neverending papers on Shakespeare.

And then I graduated and my life took a different path, one that bypassed all of these hopes. Left them at the wayside and other cliches like that. Because I know that to be a writer is practically everyones dream. Sure its easy!! You just write!! How hard can that be! Of course I can come up with the most amazing and original idea for a novel, something that no-one has every thought of before, and of course become rich in the process. For lets face it, these thoughts lurk in the back of every so-called writers mind... especially mine, or at least they did when I was a child.

But that dream of writing still lives on in my mind. I tried so hard! I had plans (I can hear my husband wincing as I say that dreaded 'p' word), ideas, I mapped things out. And then life happened, again and again, and I moved on to other things.
It took me 30 years to realize that I don't need a 'plan' to write. Or really any specific topic. Or any solid idea or brilliant plot. I can just write. Stream of conciousness ramblings which, lets face it, I am rather good at. You might even say I excel at it. You know, that sort of ADD-jump from topic to topic-half-finished rambling that all new mums running on little to no sleep have down to a science? Although to be honest, its a craft that I perfected WAY before parenthood.
And who knows if anyone reads this....and who cares really. Its not something I am passing around to my family and friends... not until I have had a few more stabs at it anyways.

For now, lets just keep this between you and me, oh world wide web...