Patience is a virtue that preschoolers do not possess

Sashimi: MOMMY!  I want a microscope game on the computer!!

K-Man: MOMMY!  I want a mmmovie!!


Me: FUUUUUUUCCCKKK (to myself, not out loud).

I had not even showered, eaten breakfast or taken my morning pills when all 3 kids started bellowing their requests simultaneously.  I keep telling the boys that they need to be patient, learn how to be patient, be more independent, but my words totally fly over their heads. iBean is not even half a year old, so I cannot blame her for screeching when she wants to eat or sleep.  But finding a new virtual microscope game for my 4 year old on the computer while she screams?  Not a priority.  Putting her down and letting her cry while I wait for K-Man to select a movie (which takes him a good 10 minutes sometimes)?  Not happening.

So I get 2 boys who cry and whine at me while I take care of the baby.  Then when she is fed and in her crib for naptime,  I start on the easiest of the boys’ demands: movie insertion.  Sashimi is mad that I am helping his brother before him, because clearly, virtual microscopy is more important.  Although, in the grand scheme of child bran development, it probably is, it takes way more of my energy to set that up than to pop a DVD into the player.

There.  Two kids satisfied, now to find some sort of game or virtual science thing for Sacha to do online.  Ah…virtual electron microscope. Slide the petri dishes under and try to match them to their identifications.  That should appease him.  Oh wait, he cannot read.  So I start reading the information to him as he looks at the images and tries to guess what they are.  How the hell does he know what red blood cells look like??  Oh yeah, he’s Tony’s son.

Finally, 30 minutes and five virtual microscopes later, he wants to watch Scooby Doo.  K-Man still entertained with his choice of DVD.  iBean still sleeping.  Mommy can FINALLY make her coffee, pour her cereal and get in the shower (nearly two hours after initially flinging my legs over the side of the bed). I let my hair dry on its own – one of the obvious benefits of a pixie cut. I can style it later if I need to vacate the premise.

Now, can I get some of the house tidied before the dictator-club starts calling out their demands? Oh screw it.  I’m gonna sit and enjoy my coffee first.




5 weeks later…and this is how it goes

I had my D&C five weeks ago, and things have not resolved themselves.  Emotionally, I am better.  I have made a sort of peace with the fact that I lost my twins.  The fact that they died at the same time makes me believe that there was something genetically wrong with both of them, and they were not meant to live outside of me.

Physically, I am annoyed beyond reason.  In the past five weeks, I have had 12 days of no bleeding.  That makes 23 days of bleeding.  The past 9 days have been light, much the way it is when you are at the end of your period. the end of my period typically does not take 9 days.  And usually proceeds a good 3 weeks of NON bleeding.  Not just 12 days.   Annoying, though, is the fact that my doctor is concerned about infection and keep testing and swabbing to find the cause of this.  So far, nothing.  Everything is negative. I am glad that he is concerned, but I have had enough stuff shoved up my bajingo  in the past month to last me a while.

I just want things to be back to normal so that we can try again (shoving something else up my bajingo, but somewhat more pleasant than a speculum and extra-long Q-tip).  I really wanted to have a baby in 2010, but if things keep up the way they have…well, that won’t be happening.

Rules for Internet Usage

Spurred by the massive amounts of information (mainly misinformation) about the Hini aka H1N1 aka Swine Flu aka Bacon Plague aka the Oinking Sickness, I have realized that many people do not really know how the internet works.  I feel called upon to pay heed to this grave matter, and have compiled the following:

Official Rules for Internet Usage, Version Hini Point One

  1. When you google something, the first page of results from your google search are not an indication of their veracity or “trueness.” Results are ranked based on how many hits, or “clicks” they receive.  The more you click, the higher its google rank.  This does not mean its content is true and reliable.   Example: Just because the first site that pops up when you google “H1N1 vaccine ingredients” tells you that it contains formaldehyde and tissues from aborted babies does NOT mean it is true.
  2. Anyone can publish anything they want on the internet.  There are no editors or publishers to approve or reject any of its content.  Example: I could create a page touting the merits of taking high doses of Vitamin D to combat the Hini, encouraging people to take doses higher than the daily maximum recommended intake of 2000 IU, and watch my stocks in the vitamin company soar.  I could casually forget to include pertinent information such as the possibility of vitamin D toxicity, which can cause calcium deposits to form in places, like, your blood vessels.  Awesome.
  3. Never believe anything, especially forwards, you receive in your e-mail inbox.  Most of these are not true. You will NOT get bad luck for 100 years if you delete the message before forwarding it to 27 of your favourite friends. Example: Ashley Flores is not a real missing person.  She may not even be a real “found” person.
  4. Anyone can sign any name to the bottom of an e-mail.  There is no way to track this back.  Example: I could write an e-mail to everyone, telling them that eating bacon dipped in vitamin D will give you immunity from the Hini.  Then I could sign it Dr. David Suzuki, and copy and paste an entire list of his credentials and all the great stuff he has done.  That doesn’t mean the Suze wrote the e-mail, and it definitely does not mean you should braise your pig fat with D-drops.
  5. When in doubt about the veracity of an e-mail, go to and please, for the love of Zeus, look it up before you forward it.
  6. “Researching” is not the same as “googling.” There are places to go on the internet if you want real facts.  Most of these are databases of academic periodicals from universities and libraries.  Not so much from google.  Don’t get me wrong, if you want great ideas for icebreakers for your next business function, google is awesome.  If you want to know what caused Gulf War Syndrome (ahem), google is NOT where you go; Pub Med (not to be confused with Club Med) is where you want to be.

If you do not know how to properly use the internet, please don’t use it to make important decisions, such as how to properly cook pufferfish, or whether or not to get the Hini shot.  You wouldn’t google “pufferfish”, then watch a youtube video on how to cut it properly without leeching its poison into the meat, then cook it and serve it to yourself and your children.  Why, then, are people willing to make a decision about getting a vaccine based on their “research” on the internet and in TV Guide rather than talking to their family physician or their pharmacist? Because they don’t know the rules of the internet.  The internet is a free-for-all.  Sometimes, this can be fantastic. But not when you are making important decisions regarding your health and the health of your loved ones.

Get off the computer and go talk to your physician or pharmacist or other health care practitioner.  He/She will be more than happy to give you all the valid information you need.


**I realize the irony of my posting this on the internet.  Like I said, it’s a BYOB out here. It sort of tickles me.

Going Green By Force

We may be going a little greener in our house.  We drive two very economic vehicles: a 2003 Rio, the husband’s commuter car, and a 2006 Toyota Prius, the family car.  This morning, however, I decided to investigate a strange smell coming from the garage. Although there is a lot of dirt, sand, and water on the garage’s concrete floor (it’s very much still winter up here), I noticed a puddle of something curious where the Rio is usually parked. I dipped my finger in it: definitely not water.  Smells a little off.  Possibly antifreeze or oil or both.  Maybe tranny fluid, although I have been told that’s usually pink (which this is not).  We brought it to the shop, and they’ll be looking into it today.

A 2003 Rio is worth very little on the resale market.  It has served us well, but if this proves to be a major expense to repair, we may very well decide to bite the bullet and go with only one car.  We are still making payments on the Pruis and adding another car payment right now is not a favorable option.

I am trying to think of the merits of being a single-vehicle family (not too many families seem to live with just one car anymore): lower insurance, less money spent on fuel and vehicle maintenance, reducing our carbon footprint, yadda yadda.

BUT WAH!  I would be stuck in the house with my kids!  All! The! Time!

If we go down to one car, Tony would be driving it to work.  His drive to work is bikable, but not in the winter, and it is largely uphill (BIG hill) which is sort of mean, even in the summer.  Yes, I am a SAHM, so the Pruis is parked in the garage a lot of the time.  But as any SAHM knows, it is nice to know that at least the option to flee the scene is there whenever the kiddies and I need to get out.

Which means I am stuck.  There is no public transportation here, and we live in an area that is sort of an “estates” development outside the main part of town.  No stores in walking distance, library and playschool are about 7 km away.  The only thing in walking distance is a park. And more houses.

Are there any other single-vehicle families out there?  Care to share how you make do with just 4 wheels instead of the standard 8?

My disrecommendation for the day: The Unamzing Persona

The story continues.

Today, I called Telus to find out what the frick was going on. They said that they hooked up our phone from their end and that it should be working. So the fact that I was told to stay at home and wait for them all damn day when, in fact, I didn’t have to be there at all really pissed me off. What’s worse: I went to the house to check if the phone worked: it doesn’t. No dial tone. Nadda.

I then waited for the Amazing Persona (even though they are very un-amazing in their service) cable guy to come around and hook up our cable internet. He called at noon, saying that there may be a problem. He said that if our house was the one he was thinking of, the house construction crew buried the trench in the front yard a couple of months ago before he was able to connect the cable from the house to the main box and down the street.  He then confirmed his suspicions by coming to the house and checking things out. He adds that the cable box and phone box (and lines) run adjacent to each other. He then tells me that he will look into the specifics of fixing this problem and get back to me next week. The front yard will need to be dug up.

My first question, obviously, is that of payment. Seeing how this home was to be cable (and phone) ready upon possession, I really don’t think I should be paying for the cable company’s retardedness for KNOWING that the cable was not hooked up but not doing anything about it until the humble consumer calls to set up cable internet service. Also, I should not be paying for the retardedness of the construction crew who filled in a trench before the appropriate utility hook ups were made.

Methinks the same issue of digging up the front yard will accompany the phone installation. Again, I am not paying for retardedness.

In conclusion, my disrecommendation for the day is Persona. Boo on Persona. And boo on dumbass construction guys for filling a trench before its time. And boo on not being able to start any landscaping until next year, leaving me with a yard that looks like this:

Backyard - rock picking time!

I’ll take R 4 Q Q Q and the batman symbol

This post is written in the spirit of random letters.  And I ask you to take a guess as to the origins of the title of this post.

Dear Sacha,

I love you, but for the love of Jesus would you do Maman a favour and not start screaming whenever your brother is crying?  Or when I have to turn my attention every so slightly toward the wee babe in order to, oh, I don’t know, change his poonami of a diaper?  Also, if you could stop running out into the road  every time we park in the driveway and I let you out of the car while I am taking your brother out of the car?  And stop swiping your brother’s soother out of his mouth when he is trying to relax! And could you PUH-LEEZE learn some words and start talking soon?  The ubiquitous “Eh! Eh! Eh!” while pointing to a bajillion things and getting pissed at me when I cannot figure out what you are getting at is going to drive driving me to drink.

Your loving, cuddling, ever subserviant,



Dear Kees,

I love that you sleep so well at night.  One waking per night?  Genius.  Sleeping seven and a half hours straight last night?  I could dance naked on my front lawn from giddiness. In keeping with the wonderful sleep theme, I would really appreciate if you could go back to being the nap king.  It was a good ride, napping for 2+ hours in the morning and afternoon.  The past week without these naps is going to drive driving me to drink.

Oh, and keep up the good eating and fattening up.  I likes me a chubby baby.

Love, cuddles and kisses,

The Moomy


Dear Pavement Ants,

I hate you, you low life scrum sucking pieces of shit.  There is no food for you to eat in the basement, unless you like eating shitty diaper wipes. If you continue to crawl out of the bathroom baseboards, I will be forced to continue employing Operation Dyson Aspiration-Extermination. And no, you cannot form a new colony in the canister of my beloved vacuum.  If only I could get the Orkinaters on your asses, I would.  But fortunately for you, I value the life of my baby more than your execution.  God help you when the new owners move in in three weeks.  They don’t have kids.  They will not be so kind.

A sincerely pissed yet restrained,



Dear Weather,

You suck.  You send nice weather only to turn to grim torrential monsoon rains at a moment’s notice. This is not acceptable, particularly when I am out walking with the mini humans in the half ton double stroller. The least you could do is provide more than a 2 minute warning.  Or throw down some umbrellas before you start washing away my sins.

A most penitent,

Mrs. Mustard


Dear Hips,

It’s been over 6 weeks.  Although I appreciate the effort in making me appear “curvy”, I would appreciate if you follow Waist’s lead and reduce your size ASAP.  I would like to be able to wear some of my summer clothes on the odd day that it is actually summer outside rather than full length sweaty sweats.  All I am asking for is 3 inches.  That’s not too much to ask.  Right?  RIGHT?


The Enabler


Dear blogosphere,

I am sorry I’ve been playing hookie.  But I had 30 absences in grade 12 calculus (a local bar saw a lot of me that term) while still getting a 97% term average and it sort of grew on me.  I’ll try and be more studious and diligent.  Please don’t flunk me!

Mrs. Mustard

The Comment

I will be the first to admit that I don’t have the foggiest idea what the hell I am doing when it comes to being a mother.  I begin everyday with grand ambitions and lofty goals, only to feel like I have fallen short and that my child will ultimately hate me and end up having a shrink who will inform him that he is the way he is because of his crazy mother.

Deep down, I know this isn’t true.  Sacha is a good kid.  He is very happy-go-lucky by nature, always smiling or laughing, loves to read and play pretend and dance the freaken mambo with Dora.  He is, however, becoming a terrible two: he knows how to throw a tantrum (and HOW!) and get on my last nerve.  He has also developed a lovely habit of scratching and pinching other kids.  For no real reason.  Just because he is a 20 month old boy.  But everything I’ve read tells me that this is normal, and that he is not a bad kid, nor am I failing as a parent.  Then there was The Comment.

I had signed Sacha and I up for a Messy Play workshop at a local drop-in center for preschool children and their parents.  Sacha and I frequent the center a LOT.  The staff are amazing, the toys are great, and it gives me a chance to visit with other moms while the kids play. I had taken Sacha to a Messy Play workshop before and he loved it: a craft, doing some baking and cupcake decorating, what’s NOT to like?  Today, apparently everything.  He didn’t want to wear a smock for sponge painting, nor did he want to use a sponge.  He didn’t want to sit at the table long enough to even see what type of baking we were going to do.  He put his body into full rigor like a plank of wood and refused to do anything that was “organized”.  At that moment, in a room filled with moms and their 2 and 3 year olds, one particular mother of 4 looked at me, fully pregnant at 38.5 weeks, struggling with Sacha and said: “If you can’t control him, what are you going to do when you have two?”

Huh?  WTF?  I think my jaw dropped to the floor, I probably urinated myself a little, and stood up with Sacha and pretended not to hear her.  But how could I not?  It is one thing to think that you, yourself, are an inadequate parent.  It is entirely another for a bitch of a woman, a fellow mother, to share my opinion and voice it in that way.  I’ve been stewing over this all day, and I still don’t know what I would have said to her.  I know her little boy is no angel (I think Sacha picked up his screeching habit from him), but I still can’t come up with a retort that would have put her in her place, the way she did me.

We left about 10 minutes after the comment.  I still don’t know what I could have done or said.  I know I will see this mother again, as she frequents the center a lot, but I really wish I could just crawl in a hole and die instead.  Or that she would do the crawling and dying for me.