Adventures in Motherhood

Me, rambling about motherhood and my ridiculous life…

Tattoo July 11, 2009

cherry-muse-blog

Tattooed. Awesome.

Spending time in a tattoo studio is interesting. I’ve been in one several times before…. but this was the first time that I’ve been in one with someone that has been in one on a regular basis. She’s pretty colourful. And pretty. And pretty and colourful at the same time.

As was my experience….

Colourful.

And Pretty!!

But colourful.

I learned.

I learned things maybe I shouldn’t share with the public.

Things about going to Greece and France…. that aren’t really involved with travel. At all. Who knew. But in retrospect, it made lots of sense.

I also didn’t know that blow-jobs and chicken go hand-in-hand… Apparently they do. But that it also stops after marriage. So don’t get married or those two will no longer go hand in hand…. If they ever did. Except in the realm of imagination and tattoo parlours.

I had many conversations about drugs, chicken, foreign countries, sex, sex, sex, sex and sex. And penises. I didn’t even know how to pluralize that word. Thank god for spell-check.

Mostly I just listened and absorbed. Absorbed what? I couldn’t really say. It’s been absorbed already. It’s in there though, floating around. I am sure that it will all resurface at some point… Most likely on my next trip. Once C and I work out the kinks to my cap sleeve.

Did you know that she is my tattoo muse?

If you are looking for ideas, let me know…. she might consult, for a fee that is… I’ll make sure you get a family rate. No worries….

 

Coherency July 10, 2009

conversation-blog

I might be cool.

Naw…… we all know I’m not. These days I can barely talk about anything besides V with any coherency.It feels like I can’t even have a proper conversation with anyone without throwing in numerous details about darling child. AND, what is really awful, is that I expect you to be just as interested as if I were discussing world events. Or Michael Jackson. Or politics (as if I even can).

But, hit me up about making your own baby-food, breastfeeding, diaper brands, teething and what to feed a toddler (or almost toddler) and I can talk your ear off.

This might mean that I have become uninteresting.

So while I dwell on my lack of conversational skills these days….*sigh*…. I try to focus on what I could be talking about.

MJ’s funeral…. didn’t watch…. was appalled at family parade of small children and weeping in front of microphone (awful!!), which I saw on CNN and news flashes the next day.

That lady who left her kids in the car while she waited for her take-out pizza. I noticed as I got into my car before her, and saw her wee little one looking at me from the backseat. What is with that! She glanced at me as she got in with a carefully controlled look on her face. She knew what she did.

And I will be judging her forever. Isn’t that nice of me? Seriously, just bring your kid in with you…. for reals…

Just watched ‘Gran Torino’ and man, it was one hell of a movie. Clint Eastwood is an amazing director. Usually, I leave the room during most movies, or talk over the whole thing. I refrained *cough cough* partially from talking through it.

Teething is my enemy. V is a teething master, and by master I really mean I wish he would stop. Or the teeth would stop. But since there are many empty spaces left in that little mouth of his, I imagine that there will be  a lot of interesting nights to come.

I found a grape seed firmly lodged in his front teeth this evening. And it was a full-on war to wriggle it out. Followed by a huge tantrum. Which makes me think that he might be a little spoiled…. just a bit…

I have reconnected with some interesting people over the last few years. Mostly through facebook. Which I both curse for it’s addiction and embrace for its full-on ridiculousness… And then embrace again for the people that I reconnected with…

I sometimes fool myself into thinking that I take good nature photos. And sometimes I do. I would like a macrolense so I could experiment with some tighter construction, hopefully ending with some clearer shots.

I really need a pedicure.

See? It is all so self-focused… and mostly about babies and celebrity gossip. Oh, and me. *sigh*

I think I need some practice on having conversations.

With actual people. And not with the dog, V or Elmo…

 

Brick-like July 7, 2009

bricks-blog

I just got a chunk of waffle tossed into my hair.

Since this is not breakfast-time, I know you are surprised. I was.

It was unearthed in Chewies Dog-bed (which really is a cat-bed. Even though he’s a dog). Chewie has this tendency to bury things he won’t eat in his little bed.  I just found it a few minutes ago and thought it was funny. Ever since M became ‘Mr Mum’ I have found a lot of random bits of food all over the house.

Now part of it might be that we are doing a lot of ‘wheat-free’ cooking. Tapioca bread and wheat-free waffles. Tapioca bread does not toast well. If you make it golden brown, that actually means ‘brick’ in the language of toast.

And M is such a good Mr Mum. He toasts things to perfection, a lovely golden-brown. Which might make for deliciousness in our wheat-filled world. But actually means ‘cobble my sidewalk with your toast pieces’ in the land of the wheat-free.

I have accidentally stepped on it. I know. It is as hard as a m-f’er.

Apparently Chewie is not interested in our new wheat-free life-style. In the evenings, when I am home and M is off at his summer evening job of serving…. I find little morsels in corners of all the rooms. Waffles in the living-room. Biscuits in the bedroom. Toast everywhere. Chewie hates toast. Well, wheat-free toast anyways.

At least, this wheat -free toast. I think he would have liked what V was eating in Canada. We needed a dog in Canada to clean up the mess V made.

So, unbeknowest to V, wheat-free sucks. It sucks as even the dog won’t eat it.

And then, Chewie did something that surprised me. In retrospect though, it shouldn’t have.

He ate the waffle. So I guess, in hindsight, it wasn’t that bad. I just wish M hadn’t thrown it at me first……

 

Picky July 4, 2009

You know when you finally decide to take that big step in a direction that means ‘responsibility’? It’s kind of like teetering on the edge of a cliff forever…… finally someone comes up behind you and gives you a big ol’ push over the edge. There you are….. totally free-falling, no idea what to do, with a how-to manual clutched in your hand.

“Cliff-diving for Dummies”.

Really, it’s “House-Buying for Dummies”.

I think the tenants that moved in above us finally pushed me over the edge. M, apparently, hasn’t noticed them at all. All I hear is ‘thump thump thump’. And then there are our new neighbours across the courtyard, who bbq right in front of our living-room window. Awesome. I might as well just invite myself.

I guess M and I kind of keep to ourselves. We are just private kind of people that are not on first name basis with all of our apartment neighbours. We also do not party with them. Or drink with them randomly, or really hang out with any of them at all. You wouldn’t want to either.

Now ‘house’ neighbours are a different kind of story. If you are buying, you will be friendly with your neighbours. The end.

So as we blunder, slowly, through this whole initial process it’s like my brain just wants to shut down.

I look at homes online. I email our realtor things I think we’d like. She emails me back. I talk to M about when we want to look at them….. and thats when things seem to slow down for us.

We want to. But…..we also want to do everything else but physically look at them. We also are ultra picky. And have also put a time-limit on this whole thing. We are determined to take advantage of that tax credit. And also don’t want to renew our lease, which is up in October. And also we seem to be quite picky.

We don’t mind a little bit rundown. But not too rundown. We don’t mind a foreclosure, but would prefer one that comes with a pool, a pool that is sparkling clean. A 3/2 is at the bottom of the list, but a 4/2 would be better. And all of this needs to fall into a rather srict budget, and ever stricter neighbourhood that we have outlined.

And this is all tentative. Sometimes I think to myself “What the hell are we doing?!?!”

And then I think “Oh,right. We hate renting and want a house. And are firmly in our 30’s. And have a baby. And this is the next logical step.”

And so, yet again, we are picky. And possibly (a) pain(s) in the ass (es).

*sigh* This is exhausting to even type about….

pick-it-blog

 

Pox June 20, 2009

kitty-blog

M is allergic to cats.

When he first told me this years ago, I thought he was lying. I really thought that he didn’t want to get a kitten/cat, anything of the feline persuasion as a pet. His family is more of a ‘dog’ family. And so years ago when he visited me in Canada and stayed at my parent’s house and started sneezing and rubbing his eyes repeatedly, I finally got the point. He was, in fact, not lying. Surprise!

My dear kitty that I had during University moved in with my parents when I moved to Japan. And when I moved back she continued to stay with them. They love her (as do I, she really is so sweet). On our recent trip to Canada, we slept in their bedroom with V, while my parents stayed in the guest house. There was much talk about making sure to keep the bedroom door closed as Molly-cat loves to sneak in there. Not only is M allergic, but my Step-dad is too so this was doubly important.

Despite all of these precautions (and leaving the bedroom window open all day and night), M still had bouts of sneezing and watery eyes…. it just couldn’t be helped.

One night we were all out on the patio. We had just finished a lovely visit with some family and friends, and were finishing off a quickly put-together smorgasbord of savory treats. There was a nice chill in the air, wine on the table and my sister and I got up to get hoodies and slippers so we could stay cozy while we all chatted on the deck.

I guess M and C must have looked a little cold, as my mum dashed back in and came out carrying 2 woolen blankets which she proceeded to toss on both of them. Satisfied that everyone was cosy and warm, we all continued laughing and joking for another hour or so before heading off to bed.

…….hours later…….. early morning…….

M woke up with his eyes practically stuck shut, sneezing like a mother-f’er, tears running down his face from how itchy his eyes are and totally congested.

“Don’t tell your mother, but I think that blanket has the pox,” he said, “It is my Kryptonite.” Apparently it was covered in cat hair.

I started laughing and thinking of course that I will have to write about this in my blog. M looked at me and I knew he was reading my mind. As soon as he started to say “Jame…..” I said “I will really try to not mention this….really. For real.” I am pretty sure he didn’t believe me. It might have been a little lie on my part…

Downstairs we trudged with V (M trying to hide his sneezes and red eyes). The pox blankets lay on an end table and V was reaching for them. “No honey,” I said, “Don’t touch the cat blankets.” (M evil eyed me in the background for uttering this outloud).

“Cat blanket?” someone piped up…

And then the story unfolded from my Stepdad.

“Ah, yes,” he said, “The cat used to sleep on it. I think we’ve had them for about 30 years and they’ve never been washed. Missy used to sleep on them too.” (Missy was a cat we had when I was in middle/high school)

This history of the pox blanket is revealed! I struggled to not look at M, for fear that the giggle in me would erupt and run totally out-of-control.

I just saved it all up for here instead….

 

Creepy April 17, 2009

Filed under: creepy,holy mother,tired,Uncategorized,what the? — Ohdeerestme @ 10:08 pm
Tags: , , ,

creepy-blogI have a little toy basket in our bedroom for the odd toys that end up in our room.  I think currently there is a plushie fish, a bear and a plastic telephone.

The telephone has little pictures on the buttons and talks when you push them.

“Car”

“Baby”

“Cup”

And in spanish too!

It makes animals noises too. It meows and barks and growls. V loves it and gnaws away on it, pushing the buttons with his face and teeth.

I think it’s been in the bedroom for about a week or so. Last weekend it started meowing during the night. Woke me right out of a dead sleep.

I lay there, half awake wondering what on earth I had heard that had woke me up. I am such a light sleeper since V entered our life, I wake up at a heavy sigh.

Anyways, it meowed. Repeatedly. Often enough that I remembered it in the morning. I turned it off sometime during the night and thought that was the end of it.

The other night I noticed a dull light emanating from the toy bin. With a closer look, I realized that it was the telephone. One of the buttons was lit up. The one that has a picture of a baby on it. And the power was off.

And then it started meowing again. I ignored it. It happened with less frequency. I forgot.

And then last night it meowed again.

What the heck? I mean seriously!! I turned it off! It is off! OFF! Why is it still meowing!

Clearly it is possessed. It is some kind of Stephen King-cat possessed telephone. Our apartment complex must be built over a pet cemetary or something. (Thanks Shannon for your cat-possessed phone!)

And yet after a week and a half of this meowing telephone…. it is still in our bedroom. Too much work to move it.