Thursday, October 8, 2015

I Was Hungry When I Said That.

Now that the nausea is, for the most part, a thing of the past, I'm ravenous. I'm the kind of hungry that, left untended, could cause some serious problems.

Take last night for example.

Husband got home a little later than usual, but I'd been waiting for him to get home to have dinner with him. We decided we would order Chinese food. Of course, then the kids staged a mini revolt, and bedtime was extended by at least half an hour, which meant that by the time we finally got around to thinking about actually ordering the food, it was after 9:00. Which for me is past the ordering dinner threshold. If you order past 9:00, you may not be eating until 10:00, then you don't get to bed 'til 11:00, and you get up at 4:00 with raging heart burn anyway, so really no point.

So what to do? Husband is nice, so he offered to make me a sandwich. I'd had a sandwich for lunch, I'd be having a sandwich for lunch the next day, and I really didn't want one now. He offered again to order something, I declined. He offered to make anything else that was in the house. I almost cried, and told him that I hate every single thing there is to eat in the house, and I didn't want any of it, dammit.

He was also hungry by this point, and so he started making himself a sandwich while I contemplated the open cupboards, getting more and more despondent. Then I told him that if he finished off the sliced turkey, I would stab him. And I totally wasn't joking.

He finished making his sandwich, and backed out of the kitchen, where I had begun putting together a plate of veggies, yogurt and toast; none of which I actually wanted to eat.

About half an hour later, after consuming my thrown together dinner, I realised that I had threatened to stab my husband. Over lunch meat.

All this is to basically say that I'm sorry for whatever horrible thing I said to you when I was hungry. Really, really sorry. I'm usually very nice, I swear.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Because I Don't Have Enough To Do.

We're still at the stage in our lives where none of our furniture matches. Since most things are actually hand-me-downs, we didn't pick them, and they don't go together. We've got a big green recliner couch, next to a sleek looking leather chair, next to an antique couch with scrolled feet.. our "style" could be called, at best, eclectic. At worst, you might say it looks like we live in a storage locker. I'm trying (halfheartedly right now) to change that.

As luck would have it, a friend of mine was cleaning out her craft room recently and came across some yarn she didn't want. She asked me if I wanted it, and I said, "sure! You can never have too much yarn!" I didn't realise until she showed up at my door how much "some" was. I stand corrected: you can have too much yarn. There's got to be at least twenty pounds of yarn there. Sitting in bags in my already overcrowded living room.

We can't afford to redecorate right now, so I need to work with what we've got. I've decided to start small. We have a really ugly ottoman. It's a sort of dirty green (the colour... it's not actually that dirty) blob, and the kids love to sit on it. It's actually great to have as extra seating... but it's just so ugly.

I'm going to try and use some of this yarn to crochet a cover for this hideous ottoman and begin to solve two problems at once.

This is merely the tip of the yarn iceberg.

It's either going to turn out really great and I'll post pictures, or it'll be awful and you'll never hear about it again. Wish me luck!

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

It's Just a Phase. Right?

"Kee says that you're her favourite treasure, Mummy! That's how you know she loves you, despite how she treats you," Beege said, offering me a feel better hug.

Kee and I haven't been getting along so well lately.

She's always been stubborn, but mostly reasonable. If you had a good reason for her to do (or not do) something, there was a good chance she'd do (or not do) it.

Not the case anymore. She makes up her mind, and it doesn't matter what you say, or what else needs to be happening at the time, she will scream and cry and fight until she feels like she's got what she wants. And since I'm doing my very best not to give in and allow her to grow into an entitled tyrant, that means there's a lot of screaming and crying around here.

She glares at me and clenches her fists, she scowls and rolls her eyes, she screams and stops just short of hitting me. Over everyday things like asking her to wear pants, put her dishes in the dishwasher, or brush her teeth.

I am trying my best not to yell. Not to react. To let her know that even when we're fighting, even when it seems like we don't like each other, I love her. I tell her that I respect myself too much to allow her treat me the way she has been, and that I love her too much to let her continue behaving in a way that will make her life so much harder in the long run. I tell her that she can choose her own way, but that all of her choices will have consequences, good or bad. The hope is that eventually, the things I'm saying quietly while she screams at me will sink in and stay with her.

For now though, it's breaking my heart.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Monday Morning Miracle Muffins

Last night, I was siting around with Husband watching some Netflix and feeling like I'd forgotten something. This isn't unusual for me, as I'm generally the sort of person who will purposefully make a detailed to do list, and then promptly lose it.

Anyway. Around 11:00, I remembered what it was that I had to do; my daily blog post. So I sat down at the computer and whipped up a last minute post, then went to bed feeling very satisfied to have remembered in time to keep up with the one a day thing.

Fast forward to 6:30 this morning when I exclaimed "shit!" and sat bolt upright in bed (which is getting harder to do these days), startling Husband awake. It wasn't the blog post (although I'm still glad I got that done), it was the muffins. The night before, we'd noticed we were running short on lunch stuff for the girls, so he offered to go and get groceries. I wanted him to stay home and watch a movie with me, so I said "don't worry, as long as we've got enough fruit, veggies, and cheese we're okay. I'll make muffins tonight. Then we watched a movie and all thoughts of muffins were forgotten.

Luckily, I have this recipe up my sleeve. I don't even know if it counts as a recipe exactly, because I only bother to measure a few of the ingredients, but it has saved me many many times in a pinch. If you've got everything on hand, and you probably will, because most of the ingredients are variable, you can have muffins in about half an hour total. Which is awesome when you remember that you've got no lunch for the kid who needs to be at the bus stop in 40 minutes.

Monday Morning Miracle Muffins
Makes 12 medium sized muffins.
(Can also make one loaf. Bake in greased loaf pan for 50-60 minutes, or until inserted toothpick comes out clean.)

1/2 cup softened butter (I'm sure margarine or similar would work just as well)
1/2 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour (any kind, really. White, whole wheat, multigrain... I've even used 1 cup flour and 1/2 cup crushed up bran flakes when I was stuck.)
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
about 1/2 cup yogurt (usually use plain, but any flavour will do), or sour cream, or silken tofu
about 1/2 cup mashed banana, or apple sauce, or pureed pear

Unnecessary add ons - choose 1 or 2: 1/2 cup chopped walnuts, 1/2 cup chocolate chips (best with banana), 1/2 cup thinly grated carrot (best with apple), 1/2 cup raisins, 1/2 cup blueberries, 1/2 cup ground flax seed (yay, fiber!), 1/2 cup wheat germ
When making them with apple or pear, I also like to add 1 tsp. of ground cinnamon. 

Preheat oven to 350C.

Cream together the butter and sugar in a medium to large bowl, then add eggs and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt (also flax seeds, wheat germ, or crushed up bran flakes if using them). Mix dry ingredients into the bowl of wet ingredients, blend. When fully blended, add fruit and yogurt (or tofu, or sour cream)

Fill 12 greased or lined muffin cups (they're quite dense, and don't rise overly much.)

Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean.

Sunday, October 4, 2015


Pregnancy kind of sucks.

At least this one does. It's draining all my energy, leaving me listless and exhausted. No, actually, I stand by my first statement: Pregnancy kind of sucks.

When else in your life is it considered completely normal for your limbs to swell, your nose to bleed, your body to ache, your stomach to constantly be heaving its contents, your bladder control to completely abandon you, belching, flatulence, constipation, dizziness, headaches... need I go on? If someone without a fetus was displaying those symptoms, they'd be sent to a specialist*. Yet, this is the everyday for most pregnant women.

Yes, this is the miracle of life. There will be a baby at the end of all this, and that's truly amazing and wonderful, and I know that I'm very lucky.... but right now, I'm looking at four more months of feeling like I have no control over my body or any of its processes and it's starting to get to me.

There are a couple of pluses though.

Take today for example. There are a lot of things that we really need to do before this baby arrives. We need to unpack some boxes, sort things, get rid of things, move furniture around, and clean. A lot.

Husband started today. He moved all the shelves around in the living room to make way for the couch to get through to go to the basement. I offered to help, I really did, but he didn't want me to, because baby.

I sat on the couch drinking tea and watching him move things, offering helpful suggestions about vacuuming behind everything. I was actually feeling a little guilty, because I know that I am fully capable of moving things right now. I'm pretty strong, despite being constantly tired.

You know what he said? He told me that he really wasn't worried about me hurting myself. He was more worried that if I did help him move heavy furniture, then from now until February, every time I felt like something might be wrong, I would blame myself. And the furniture. And maybe him for not stopping me from helping.

Although, now that I'm writing it down, it seems more like that might be more a benefit of being a known neurotic than being pregnant.

Hunh. Okay. Nevermind.

Pregnancy kind of sucks. 

*I just tried looking up this combination of symptoms on WebMD, and was advised to seek emergency medical attention. True story.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

For The Love of Books.

Over the years, our book loving and hoarder tendencies have combined to fill our home with books. Overfill, actually. We've cut down on buying books for ourselves quite a lot, but we can't seem to help ourselves buying for them. Beege has books spilling off of her shelf and stacked on every surface. Kee's actually got piles of books in and under her bed. It's getting nuts.

Instilling a love of reading is one thing -- if you can read, you can learn anything -- but this crazy collecting needs to stop. At the rate we all read, we were buying new books very week or two.

As someone who loves books, but really should not be spending the money or the space on the, right now, I love the library. Really, I've always loved the library. A place that will let you bring home stacks of books to read... for free? What an incredibly brilliant concept.

The first thing we did when we moved last year, before even unpacking was head to our new library to get our library cards. We didn't make as much use of them as we should have, and the books kept piling up.

Since September though, we've been making a real effort. The girls are starting to come around to the benefits of being able to read everything without having to find a spot on the shelf for it when you're done, and a trip to the library has become on of our favourite Saturday activities.

Although, I'm guessing it might also have something to do with the fact that our new favourite coffee shop is across the street and we always stop in for a treat and a game of chess or two before heading home.

Mostly though, it's the books.

Friday, October 2, 2015

He's My Favourite.

Most of the stories that I post on here have to do with me and the kids. Primarily because most of my day, most of my time, most of my headspace has been devoted to them for years. Someone else does live with us though, and he gets mentioned occasionally, as though he's a visitor who pops in every once in a while to get us to laugh, or hang out with the kids so that I can get a much needed break; but I don't very often just talk about him.

So today, he gets his very own blog post.

Husband and I met in University. During my Frosh week, actually (he was a Frosh Boss). We were both commuters, and as such, spent frosh week camped out with a bunch of other commuters in common rooms so that we didn't have to go home at night and miss any of the late night parties. He offered me a couch to sleep on when he noticed me camped out on the floor, and gave me his coat to use as a blanket.

We were friends for a long time before we were anything more, and I think that will always be the most important part of our relationship. All these years later, I find that I like him. Like, really LIKE him. He is the one I always want to talk to, always want to see, even when I'm not in a mood to see or talk to anyone.

He's not perfect, by any means. In fact, I think I might like him a little less if he was. But his imperfections mesh  well with mine. I'm the one that keeps us running on time and remembers to feed the kids. He's the one who keeps us thinking rationally, even when I've already assumed the worst. I'm the one who reminds everyone to eat vegetables, and he's the one who reminds me that playing with Lego is time well spent.

I am also aware, even if he isn't, of just how many times I would have fallen apart completely so far if it hadn't been for him.

Anyway, long story short: I'm really lucky that he was able to see past my flaws (or somehow find them endearing) and embrace the big bundle of crazy that is me, because I have gotten to feel super smart very day for the past sixteen years for choosing to spend my life with someone like him.

Love you, Sparky.