Long Weekends

Aren't long weekends great?!

Canada Day is on Sunday, with the holiday being Monday. I'm looking forward to a nice relaxing weekend. And it feels like my weekend is beginning early.

My DH came home this morning to finish some paper work...and he brought me a coffee! So right there my day started off great. He had to head back to hand the papers in, but he's coming home so I can go for lunch with a girlfriend! YEAH!

I think I may spend a little time browsing the bookstore today. It's so exciting walking through the store, books piled high on shelves. Just seeing all those beautiful covers and smelling that new-book smell (fresh paper and ink) is invigorating!

I think I'm going to try and get a photo up on my profile. That is, if I can get my hair to cooperate. I generally don't like cameras, but I'm beginning to feel like The Woman Without A Face.

I have "tunnel vision." A condition that allows me to see and hear only what is right in front of me. When I'm on the computer, reading a book or watching a movie, the rest of the world ceases to exist...much to the frustration of my hubby! I come by it honestly, though. My dad has the same infliction. I've tried telling my hubby that I'm not ignoring him when I'm reading, it's just that I can be across an ocean, in the wilderness, lost in a past century or fleeing for my life...and it just takes a little while for me to return to reality.

Well, I'm rambling today as you can see...er read. I'm just typing whatever comes to mind. What's on your mind?

Dating Disaster

The other night hubby and I went on a date. I was looking forward to spending time together and was picturing a quiet, relaxing evening with dinner and conversation.

We arrived at the restaurant and were seated in a little nook tucked away from the rest of the diners. Yes, I thought, this is perfect. We ordered and began a nice conversation. I was just beginning to relax and was soaking up the atmosphere when the waitress came by and seated a couple next to us. Right next to us. As in, I-could-reach-over-and-touch-his-shoulder close. Yeah. Our conversation ground to an awkward halt.

I tried to make the best of it and continued a hushed, somewhat stilted conversation with my hubby while trying to ignore the increasing volume and colorful language coming from the people next to us. Our food arrived and we began our meal, my DH eating rather quickly. This wasn't unusual so I thought nothing of it until he leaned across the table and whispered, "let's get dessert somewhere else. I feel like ice cream."

What? I had told him I wanted this special chocolate-fudge-skor cake. I was confused. I quietly protested, but he was determined to leave. I began to feel a little miffed with him for rushing me through my meal. The minute the last particle of food left my plate, he requested the check and ushered me out the door. I was upset. Some romantic dinner, I thought.

As we walked out to our vehicle I turned to him and demanded to know what his problem was.

"Didn't you notice the people next to us?"

"Yes. What about them?"

"Didn't you hear what they were saying?" DH was looking at me rather incredulously.

"I heard their language, I was just ignoring it." I felt a bit bigger at my ability to overlook this wrong.

"It's not that," he said. "The lady must be on some medication. She was saying how she quit taking them because she'd rather live in her own reality than this reality. She was getting mad at the service and I was a little worried about what she would do." Hubby's looking at me intently. "And didn't you see them? They were making out right next to you!"

What?! I was feeling somewhat shocked.

"Uh, I didn't notice anything. What? Were they kissing?"

My DH just gave me a tolerant look complete with lifted eyebrows. Apparently they were doing a lot more than kissing! And only two feet from me! GROSS!

I felt myself deflate. Apparently my DH was having a hard time choking down his supper and I was upset about him rushing our evening. I felt a little sheepish.

So, anyone have a dating disaster you want to share?

Lines

There are lines everywhere. We wait in line for food, groceries, money, service. We wait at the stop sign, red light, left-turn. Products are built in assembly lines and women avoid panty lines. We live in a world where we are surrounded by lines. Most places you go require you to wait in line. The bank, the cashier, the ferry, the airport, the restaurant. The list goes on. And the toe-tapping, foot-shuffling, horn-honking begins.

I waited in line at Tim Hortons the other day for twenty minutes to order three coffees. Twenty minutes! I found myself huffing, shuffling and tapping, but I was determined to get that cup of rich brew! I was annoyed at the slow service and frustrated with myself for putting up with it. But what was I to do? There was no way I was leaving without my coffee! I was a slave to the line.

A couple of months ago I was waiting in line at the bank. It was a long line. There were two men there who obviously knew each other and they were chatting back and forth. One guy said to the other, "Boy, this is sure taking a long time." I found myself nodding my head.

The other guy replied, "Yeah. But not as long as Tim Hortons."

I burst out laughing. Truth is truth! So tell me, where do you find yourself waiting? And how long are you willing to wait?

Divine Humour

God has a sense of humour. Did you know that? Here's how I know...

I grew up in a family of musicians. I use that term rather lightly. We're none of us professionals, but we all played, or attempted to play, instruments. My older brother has gone on to study music and I'm very proud of the musician he has become. That being said, there were days, months, years where I did not appreciate his love for music.

It was during our younger years when my brother was in a band. You know the type - high school, basement/garage bands. Translation: loud and louder with lots of screaming and an overabundance of distortion and cymbals. This "music" used to drive me CRAZY!! Especially the obnoxious banging on the drums. (The drummer was not obnoxious, I just had no appreciation for the "noise". Drummers, please don't take offense.)

Anyways, I was talking with a girlfriend at school one day and said that when I had children, they would never, never, never be allowed to play the drums. My friend chuckled and asked me what I'd do if they really wanted to learn. I staunchly replied that there was NO WAY my child would be permitted to drum. They would just have to choose a different instrument.

Fast forward 5 years and I was the proud new mommy of one adorable little boy. This cute newborn grew and by age 8 months (no exaggeration) he was fascinated by the drums. Not the whole worship team, just the drums. Still, I thought, he's so cute. He passed his first birthday and still the fascination was there. At 16 months old he was sitting at a drum set, gently banging away. With perfect stick technique! I mean, this child naturally knew how to hold a drumstick and how to properly let it "bounce" in his hand when playing. He could clap on beats 2 and 4 and was confused when people in the congregation would clap on 1 and 3 (a big no-no).

The Christmas before he turned 2, we bought him a toy drum set. It was actually my idea. Within two weeks he had played so much that the plastic drumsticks split at the seam. So, we bought him real sticks. One week later the drums wore out. So, for his 2nd birthday, we bought him a real, junior-size, acoustic drum set.

And this is my life. He's now five years old and although for the past 2 years superhero toys have become his passion, he still picks up his sticks every now and then and plays. He can actually keep time - syncopated time - and do fills complete with cymbal crashes. And I love it! I rejoice when I hear him bang on the drums and I find myself listening carefully and counting to make sure he stays in time. LOL! The best part of all - God has given me the ability to selectively "hear" it. It's amazing what I can block out!

So you see, God has a sense of humour. He took a promise I made in ignorance and said, "oh, yeah?" and gave me a drummer. And I wouldn't have it any other way!

Paris Hilton

Okay, granted this is not a topic I would normally spend my time writing or even thinking about, but with all the media coverage on her lately, I've become a little intrigued.

I don't usually watch the news and I was surprised to hear about Paris being sent to prison, spending three days of her sentence and then being released. I think that's absolutely ridiculous. I don't keep up with the happenings of Miss Hilton, but I saw a few clips of "The Simple Life" when it first aired. I was horrified by these girls.

My DH told me about Sara Silverman humiliating Paris at some music awards ceremony. I went on Youtube to see the video for myself and I was horrified by what I found. Repulsed. Disgusted. Sickened. Here is a girl who has absolutely no decency, no pride and no self-respect! I was thinking, "she got what she deserved!"

When I was finally able to locate the video of Sara Silverman poking fun at Paris...well, my heart hurt. For Paris. How awful to be the brunt of such cruel jokes. Yes, she brought it on herself, but I cannot believe that there is a living, breathing person out there who would not be affected by this kind of humiliation. *WARNING: Do not watch this video! It will offend your sensibilities!

I found myself with this strange urge to hug and comfort Miss Hilton. I was asking why? Why would anyone have such disregard for their own self? Why would anyone subject themselves to this kind of public scorn and humiliation? Not just the jokes made by Ms. Silverman, but the constant ridicule that she has set herself up for by the immature and embarrassing things she does.

This is one hurting soul. And although I'm disgusted and saddened by the things she has done, I also feel an overwhelming pity for her. This girl has no idea what real Love is.

Cheerios

I saw something strange the other day. I was standing in my living room and happened to glance out the window as these two teenage boys glided to a stop and hopped off their skateboards. The one boy reached down the front of his pants and pulled out a box of Cheerios. A whole box!! He opened the lid, reached inside and passed a handful of his snack to his buddy. Then he hopped on his skateboard, still holding the box, and continued to ride down the sidewalk while shoveling handful after handful into his mouth. GROSS!

Also, this past weekend, I saw young teenage boys wearing pants that were done up around their thighs, leaving all of their back ends hanging out! Scraggly hair, smelly t-shirts, shoes with laces untied. *Sigh*

What is it with teenage boys? Do they have a universal aversion to water, combs, clean clothes and pants that actually fit? Have they never heard of a belt? And that pants are supposed to cover their Hanes-clad behinds??

Don't get me wrong, I like boys. I love them actually and have three of my own who will all too soon reach the teen years. But is there any way to steer them down a different path? One paved with clean clothes, proper hygiene, pants that fit!??

Attila the Mum!

Yup, that's me! I've been on a rampage lately. But instead of a thirst for blood and war, I've a longing for peace and quiet! And chocolate and coffee! LOL!

My coffee maker is in constant-drip mode and I'm sure caffeine has replaced the blood in my veins. I'm fighting off the shakes with cold pizza, chocolate chip cookies and the occasional salad (blech).

What is it with days like these? Or weeks like these? I woke up this morning and thought, "I don't want to be a mom today." That sounds horrible, I know, and I'm a little ashamed to admit that the thought crossed my mind. I look at my sweet children - when they are sleeping - and am overwhelmed with love. (Okay, I didn't mean to make that sound like my kids are only sweet when they're sleeping. What I meant is I look at them when they are sleeping. Know what I mean?)

I have that song playing through my head that goes, "Momma said there'd be days like this. There'd be days like this, my Momma said." That line fits how I'm feeling. I'm trying to take things one second, one minute, one moment, one day at a time.

The Matching Game!

A few months ago, I threw out every pair of white socks my husband owned.

What is it with men and white socks? They pull on a pair of nice white socks, slip their feet into steel-toed boots and off they go to work. In my husband's case his work is in the oilfield. So he tromps around all day in mud, muck, oil and gas. Then he comes home, takes off his boots and discards his dirty work clothes. Shirts, jeans, long-underwear (in winter) and, you guessed it, once-white socks. Now a dirty, brownish-grey with black electrical tape wrapped around the ankles which, not so surprisingly, leaves black rings around the socks that will NOT come off in the wash. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, read this post, question #2 and the answer.

So a while ago I had finally had it! I threw out every pair of white socks he owned and replaced them with sensible black ones...all the same style, size and brand. These ones won't show the dirt or tape stains and I patted myself on the back for this stroke of brilliance. I just hate folding out-of-the-dryer, not-so-white socks.

Then the other day, I was folding a basket of laundry and what did I find? A few stragglers. That's right. Somehow those few white socks managed to escape the Great White Massacre! Argh! Once again I found myself matching the stains on pairs of socks!

Smacky Kisses & Toothpaste Monsters

I tucked my middle son into bed last night, gave him a kiss on the lips and said goodnight. As I straightened up he says, "Wait! I didn't kiss you back."

I leaned back over his bed and he proceeded to "smack" me on the lips. Complete with the smoochy sound. It made my heart smile.

I came out of my room after getting ready for the day, only to find my two oldest boys eating finger-fills of toothpaste! I saw red! Or should I say blue? There was sticky paste on the doorknobs and their fingers had a bluish tinge to them!

Oh, please, someone tell me this has happened to them! I can't be the only one!!

Excuse for not Blogging #11

I took the boys and went swimming all day.

And by swimming, I mean I cooked lunch (barbecued hot dogs), lathered sunscreen, swimsuited, goggled and water-winged three kids. Rolled up the pool cover, cleaned up lunch, supervised swim, carried baby around.

After they were in the water, I put son #2's goggles back on...then back on again, and again, and again and again. Decided to try a different pair of goggles and proceeded to put them on again, and again, and again, and again.

Son #2 needed to pee. Got him out of the water, ran to the bathroom, rolled down swim trunks...waited...wiped...rolled up swim trunks. Walked him back to the pool, put on his headband again and put the goggles back on. Again and again and again.

I finally got myself ready, grabbed the baby and hopped in the water.

Five minutes goes by and son #1 needs to pee....of course. Ran him to the bathroom, rolled down swim trunks...waited...he wiped...rolled up swim trunks.

Then I heard son #2 screaming outside. He needed to pee. Hauled him inside, ran him to the bathroom......

Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

Note: Baby was being watched by a friend who was swimming.

Finally put son #2 down for a nap. Dried, diapered and dressed baby and put him down for a nap. Put son #1 in quiet time. "Quiet Time" is code for tiny bits of quiet interspersed with interruptions of the 'mommy-I-need' variety.

Finally some time to lay in the sun and relax. What's that? Oh. Son #2 needs to pee....again!

Yeah, that's a brief (hee, hee) over view of my day! How was yours?

Excuse for not Blogging #10

Too much to do!

Have a great weekend, all!

P.S. If you want a good laugh, head over to Marianne Arkins blog site and read this post from yesterday. But be warned it's not for the weak of stomach!