tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46349144023439676372012-02-24T13:32:05.603-05:00Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.comBlogger2671100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-62087444153791905062012-02-24T13:01:00.007-05:002012-02-24T13:32:05.792-05:00

The room is quiet for a moment, the women sitting at the table lost in contemplation.This was a meeting that they had had many times before; they always brought forth the same reasons, and always came to the same conclusions. Unfortunately, none of them really felt that today would bring a different result."So, we're agreed then?" asked Heart tiredly, breaking the silence."Oh, yes. Intellectually

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-39796504025501371662012-02-23T10:21:00.008-05:002012-02-23T13:16:57.771-05:00

When I was a kid, all the good TV started at 8:00. So, being a kid, I didn't always get to stay up to watch the good TV. Which, you know, sucked. I said to myself, "when I am a grown up, I will get to watch the good TV, because I will get to go to bed whenever I want." Going to bed whenever you want is one of the major perks of being a grown up, you know.Except it's not. Because after you're

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-7757082040871180982012-02-22T16:06:00.002-05:002012-02-22T16:19:10.702-05:00

Pink and lumpy is the new black.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-37477834923791563622012-02-21T12:18:00.013-05:002012-02-21T13:43:45.085-05:00

The nightmares about piles of things coming to life and trying to kill me are back. Looking around my house at the various precariously stacked piles, I know that it's time to start getting rid of things a little more vigorously.The hardest part is knowing where to start. Half the time, I've got to move this stuff so that I can move that stuff, and before I can do that, I need to move this stuff.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-69136167851183633322012-02-16T17:35:00.010-05:002012-02-17T15:11:20.402-05:00

Last year, around this time, Beege was chosen as the only kid in her Senior Kindergarten class to take part in the annual Speech arts festival.And she was good. She wrote her speech, she practiced a couple of times every day, and she was prepared. Her speech was concise, she stayed almost exactly to her one minute limit, and she even had a joke in there.So when she told me that she would be

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-61222421736330250592012-02-15T17:23:00.008-05:002012-02-16T10:25:27.247-05:00

My yellow tulips? Apparently, they're actually orange. I love them anyway.This is what I did this afternoon.Because I've run out of human heads to make hats for.This? This is why you shouldn't buy prepackaged bags of apples.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-58034908784736030712012-02-14T14:45:00.003-05:002012-02-14T15:18:20.886-05:00

I know I said that I wasn't big on "Romance", but that doesn't mean that I don't like Valentine's day. Or, for that matter, that I wouldn't like some chocolate. And maybe something pretty.It's amazing to me, the amount of venom that I've heard in people's voices as they say "I hate Valentine's day."I've heard a few different reasons. People say that they don't like being told by "the greeting

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-63610616062516415402012-02-13T15:56:00.014-05:002012-02-22T10:08:19.213-05:00

So. Lately, Kee has been insisting on wearing sun dresses every day. Which is fine, despite the fact that it's the middle of winter, because she has no problem wearing pants under the dress when we leave the house. She may only be three, but she's certainly not an idiot.There is only a problem when we run out of dresses.Half of the ones from the summer don't fit her anymore, since she's decided

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-34975504359752795402012-02-10T09:42:00.009-05:002012-02-10T12:18:49.970-05:00

Here's the thing. I'm just not good at capital "R" Romance. You know, the kissy faced, "I wuv you more" "no I wuv you more" kind of romance that usually shoves itself in your face around this time of year. It makes me cringe and gag at the same time.My idea of "romance" is kind of different.The year that I was pregnant with Kee, Beege was two. Do you want to know what my husband gave me for

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-88166499820118327972012-02-09T11:55:00.009-05:002012-02-09T14:11:36.530-05:00

It's always nice to know that there are people out there reading what I write; even nicer to know that someone is enjoying it. (Even nicer when it happens on a day when I cannot think of a single thing to write about!)So, thank you to Tara at Faith in Ambiguity, both for the recognition, and for giving me a writing prompt.Tara has awarded me both "The Versatile Blogger", and "The Irresistibly

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-41309667883779601682012-02-08T11:21:00.004-05:002012-02-08T12:04:38.578-05:00

So. Remember a little while ago, I mentioned this "Leap Blog Day" thing?It is coming up, in just three weeks, but there is still time to sign up! The only thing is, you kind of have to do it now. The time for ruminating is over; pick someone already.WHEN: Wednesday, February 29 WHY: To get your voice heard by a whole different audience, and offer that opportunity to another blogger as well. (

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-39439194293691711142012-02-07T10:30:00.003-05:002012-02-07T11:21:55.545-05:00

Yesterday... yesterday was awful. By the time we left for school, I had yelled so much that my voice was hoarse. I had a throbbing headache, my heart was racing, and I was pretty convinced that my head was actually going to explode.Beege dragged herself through every task. She took fifteen minutes to get dressed (and I've timed her, she can do it in two). She took half an hour to eat a piece of

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-15785627182724467352012-02-06T09:44:00.004-05:002012-02-06T10:05:45.965-05:00

So what's in this smoovie, Mummy?Blueberries...Yay!strawberries...Yay!bananas...Yay!and spinach.What!? But I don't LIKE spinach.Uhm... yes you do.Oh, okay. Yay!

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-20436901512903848892012-02-03T09:39:00.006-05:002012-02-03T18:14:54.675-05:00

The last few times I've had a dental appointment scheduled, I've had to cancel it. Once because I was in the hospital, once because I couldn't move my neck and didn't trust the girls not to fling themselves off the subway platform, and the other time... I may have just been too lazy to go. (Probably not, but I can't remember the exact reason; I'm sure it was good.)The husband has also had to

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-27638466648246487522012-02-02T10:26:00.005-05:002012-02-02T15:49:54.325-05:00

INT. SKWISHEE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - LATE AFTERNOONSKWISHEE reads on the couch, while BEEGE and KEE play with vibrant pink play dough at the dining table. Skwishee glances at the girls playing and smiles. Skwishee closes her book and places it on the coffee table in front of her. She stands and leaves the room.INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUSSkwishee hums to herself as she turns to the sink and begins

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-46750285968259115742012-02-01T10:42:00.008-05:002012-02-01T13:34:29.246-05:00

I knew it would happen eventually, but this is so sudden; I mean... I didn't even know I was nominated!No, I didn't win an Emmy; I won a MOV award!*My very first award! (And MOV is a Pulitzer Prize winner**, so she's totally qualified to be handing out awards.)I have been honoured with the "Down-to-Earth Angel" Award. And, really, it is an honour; you should go check out the other winners of the

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-29570092253654356012012-01-30T12:04:00.006-05:002012-01-30T16:53:00.908-05:00

It's about time, really. I mean, it's hard, living with a secret. So here it is:Hi. My name is Skwishee, and I'm ... a blogger.When I started writing this blog, I didn't tell anyone -- not even my husband. He was playing a show while working a full time job, so he was never home. The girls were 1 and 3, we were stuck in our tiny apartment all day, and it was hard.I wasn't very happy.I started

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-29885101974279163232012-01-29T19:58:00.009-05:002012-01-29T21:34:19.965-05:00

The best thing about this weekend -- and every weekend -- is that if it becomes necessary for me to be alone and work out my crazy a bit, I usually can. So this afternoon, while the husband watched "Tinkerbell and the Great Fairy Rescue" with the girls, I hid in my room for a while and made things.A sleeve for a tin can. I saw the idea at Attic 24, and decided to make one to hold the girls'

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-51330747749462899032012-01-27T09:49:00.007-05:002012-01-27T15:34:27.536-05:00

A Coward's LamentThey've emptied every bin and shelf.Strewn toys upon the floor.Will they clean up this freaking mess?No. Mummy gets that chore.They've run in circles 'round me.They've tied me to a chair.They've chanted incomprehensibly,while yanking on my hair.They've fought, and yelled, and kicked, and screamed'til I thought I'd lose my mind.There must be something we can do(other than nag and

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-595256470223294182012-01-26T13:23:00.009-05:002012-01-26T14:40:09.666-05:00

So. Today, we will be discovering the answer to a question that I have been asking myself for a very long time:What, exactly, is all this crap on my desk?Every time I sit down to write, I first have to shift things off the keyboard. Which distracts me* and I forget what it was I was going to write, so I surf for inspiration, and end up looking at pictures of cute baby animals and wondering what I

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-56397207889421271402012-01-25T13:29:00.006-05:002012-01-25T14:26:57.462-05:00

Due to the huge mess that was yesterday morning, I wanted to leave plenty of time to get ready for school.Here, by the way, is a picture of the three different kinds of horrible, barbed wire covered underpants that I tried to torture her with yesterday.The barbed wire is invisible.Offensive, right? After some consideration, I realised that the thing they had most in common, (they're different

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-60222910510213548772012-01-24T11:26:00.007-05:002012-01-24T12:10:56.404-05:00

Okay. No. It's not. Today has sucked donkey butt. I'm patting myself on the back for not having killed any children, and it's not even lunch time.Kee is having some issues with her clothing. Issue #1: Diapers do not fit comfortably into pants made for 3/4 year olds. Issue #2: Apparently, underpants are made from special fabric that scratches, and itches, and is possibly coated in acid. Issue#3:

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-14027548163075758982012-01-23T13:44:00.007-05:002012-01-23T14:24:06.421-05:00

I believe I mentioned that I've been crocheting a lot.Well, aside from dishcloths and slippers, I've been making a lot of hats. I think part of the appeal is that I can sit down and make one in an evening. Not only do I get the lovely feeling from starting something new, I also don't find it stuffed, half finished, in a box six months later! Excellent.The thing that I'm finding I like most about

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-24399398760980303322012-01-20T13:03:00.007-05:002012-01-20T17:34:18.923-05:00

So far, in my career as a mother, I've only had to go to one child's birthday party that wasn't family. Yes, that is correct, "had to". I'm not really a "party" person.I am shy. I am nervous around new people. I am especially shy/nervous around new people who are the parents of children that my daughters would like to play with, since I feel I need to make an especially good impression so that

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-22181094962821623752012-01-19T13:44:00.003-05:002012-01-19T14:24:50.821-05:00

So. There's this thing going on. It's called Leap Blog day.What, exactly, is this "Leap Blog Day", you may ask. Well, let me tell you!The ladies at We Band of Mothers, Just Inappropriate, Southern Fried Children, and Mothers of Brothers decided to start up a day to celebrate other blog writers. Which is great, because we all deserve a little celebration now and again.Here's what you do: Join up

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-55294821651679128972012-01-18T12:19:00.008-05:002012-01-18T12:49:54.389-05:00

Everything is better with bacon on it.For example, when I got stuck with making the yams for Christmas dinner this year, I thought, "great. No one ever eats the yams, and I'm going to be stuck with buckets of leftovers." Upon further consideration, I decided that there were usually a couple of issues with the yams.First of all, everyone (in my family, anyway) always pours in a bunch of maple

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-58848406074993145742012-01-18T10:24:00.003-05:002012-01-18T12:00:49.445-05:00

Censorship sucks. Even Vader thinks so.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-31926577462882981572012-01-17T09:44:00.011-05:002012-01-18T12:03:02.606-05:00

I've been a knitter since grade school. I decided I'd like to try since my mum was a knitter, and it looked kind of fun. Or at least like something to do. I taught myself to switch colours and do cables. I discovered stitches and textures, and fell in love.It fell by the wayside a bit when I was in University, but since the girls came along, I've picked it up again. There is something extremely

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-20267760274298964422012-01-16T20:38:00.001-05:002012-01-16T20:42:38.011-05:00

At The "Happy Shortcake" Conference.An Installation, by Kee.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-41585225123297992992012-01-13T10:09:00.007-05:002012-01-13T20:35:45.790-05:00

Rachel says that it's Lurker Appreciation day, and just like last year, if she hadn't said it I wouldn't have known. Apparently, it happens every year around this time.Most bloggers really do appreciate hearing from their readers; I certainly do. I appreciate every single one of you, even if you never say anything to me. It does make for a very one-sided conversation though, so if you have ever

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-2948454980153400012012-01-12T10:10:00.003-05:002012-01-12T10:43:21.233-05:00

[Last one, I swear.]And Then My Ass Exploded.January 1st, 3:00am.In the darkened bedroom, the sleeping woman stirs. She groans. She bolts upright. She whimpers, as she swings her legs over the side of the bed. She moves in fits and starts, trying to travel quickly, thwarted by the malevolent creature that is raking it's sharp claws through her abdomen with each step.She heads to the bathroom.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-6017881736493966012012-01-10T11:14:00.006-05:002012-01-11T10:31:05.563-05:00

Take Them Away!I have stomach issues. I've always been a little stomach-y, but after Kee was born, everything got much worse and there was a while there that I couldn't even leave the house. Let's just leave it at that.These "issues" happen to get worse in the car. Not because I get motion sickness (although that is also a problem), but because the combination of worrying that my stomach will

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-53473933668035956792012-01-10T10:25:00.007-05:002012-01-10T11:23:04.336-05:00

Christmas Morning.I wake up for no apparent reason at 6am and lay in bed waiting for the children to wake up. At 6:30, I contemplate going into the kitchen and accidentally dropping something loud so that the kids will get up, and start enjoying Christmas, dammit!About 6:45, I finally hear small, shuffling footsteps coming down the hallway. FINALLY! What is wrong with these kids, anyway? It's

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-84692066536787755502012-01-09T10:17:00.007-05:002012-01-09T22:34:48.898-05:00

Okay. Let's just jump right in here. Hi. My name is Skwishee, and I'm neurotic.As well as wanting to be an actor, and an artist, I've always wanted to be a writer. I've also always thought that I wasn't particularly good at any of those things. Actually, that's not quite true; I've always thought that I was pretty good, but that if the time came for someone else to see/watch/read my work, THEY

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-63296249170465326762011-12-27T13:20:00.010-05:002012-01-09T17:01:33.725-05:00

Christmas has come and gone. We've eaten the turkey, and the "Christmas lasagne", we've opened our presents and played with our new toys; now we're just wallowing in the satiated aftermath.I received some rather nice gifts (I'm looking at you, scrapbook kit), and I wouldn't usually show favouritism like this, I must admit, but I do have a top three:1. Beege saying to me, on Christmas eve, "

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-91328942765410485372011-12-23T09:28:00.008-05:002011-12-23T16:08:54.112-05:00

We don't really make a big deal about Santa in our house. We don't go to see him, but we do leave a snack out for him. We don't use him as a threat to make the kids behave, but we do use him to get them into bed on Christmas Eve.Beege told me the other day that she believes in him because she's had the "empirical evidence" of snacks being eaten and lists being fulfilled.(The fact that Santa

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-22179136378528806762011-12-22T12:59:00.010-05:002011-12-22T14:16:47.716-05:00

Somewhere, in amongst the vast amounts of loose papers that get sent home, there was a notice regarding the school's holiday assemblies. I mean, I think there was; I never saw it, but I'm assuming that we get notices about these kinds of things.So yesterday, when I picked up Beege and her teacher "reminded" me about it, and the fact that she was supposed to wear black pants and a red shirt, I had

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-27138880546401984782011-12-21T10:18:00.006-05:002011-12-21T10:48:01.564-05:00

Okay. So... I freaked out a little.In recent years we (the husband and I) had decided that Christmas eve and morning would be a (nuclear) family only occasion. We would wear our pajamas, we would act silly, we would not tidy. We would enjoy each other, and the prospect of not having to do dishes.A visitor* would mean changes. A visitor would mean I'd feel obligated to clean the bathroom. I would

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-27323658864305992822011-12-19T09:36:00.005-05:002011-12-19T10:39:31.799-05:00

Yesterday, I felt like I was almost ready for Christmas.All the shopping is done, except stocking stuffers and yams. The things that I haven't finished making are all in progress. The two things that I haven't started making have all the details worked out in my head, which is really the most difficult part; it's messy in there.Of course, now I'm sick. And so are the girls. But we're not really

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-11300242576826881042011-12-16T09:59:00.012-05:002011-12-16T11:10:48.395-05:00

I love Christmas. I love almost everything about it. I love the music and the lights and the cheesy movies*. I love dedicating (at least!) a few days to doing nothing with my family.One of the things that I don't love however is the commercialism. The idea that you HAVE to get this toy or that game. The commercials, the malls, the shopping, the rush, the stress. I could do without all that.So

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-27062081060617857342011-12-14T10:26:00.005-05:002011-12-16T08:30:14.928-05:00

When Kee and I go to the library, I don't really have a chance to browse. In the interests of preserving my sanity, and avoiding scathing looks from the other patrons, we tend to head straight to the children's section. Once there, we can spend as much as an hour selecting 8 page board books, playing with the (likely germ infested) toys, and harassing strange children.Do I complain? No. Heavens,

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-38684060180623942722011-12-12T09:54:00.004-05:002011-12-12T11:09:59.852-05:00

Since Beege was old enough to have opinions, I've been asking her some questions on her birthday; Kind of an exit interview for the year. Anything important you want to remember? Any new things you want to try?The intention is to write this information out neatly, add her school picture for the year and then a sentence about any important highlights from the year."Scrapbooking," I believe it's

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-71203149824782659452011-12-05T19:20:00.008-05:002011-12-08T12:26:42.657-05:00

Kee's been on a rhyming kick lately; she'll just rattle off words (and not words) that rhyme while she's doing something else. She's really pleased when she stumbles upon actual words that rhyme.All this rhyming has also kicked up her joke telling a notch. For a while there, it was all "knock knock" jokes; her favourite being "Orange you glad I didn't say banana?" [Yes, for the love of god, don't

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-70445871059171448332011-12-05T09:44:00.005-05:002011-12-05T10:26:52.291-05:00

So, Nablopomo is officially over - several days ago, in fact - and of course, I feel like I'm neglecting my blog again. Not that I managed to post EVERY day like I meant to, but 26 is pretty darn good from where I'm sitting. Which is at my computer. For the first time in a few days.So. Beege is going to be six years old tomorrow. I'm still surprised.We took the girls to glow-in-the-dark mini golf

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-82612572483838574722011-11-30T19:05:00.004-05:002011-11-30T19:21:56.099-05:00

Yesterday, my sister was here visiting with the baby, when I started feeling a little bit dizzy and cold, and kind of pissed off. She just happened to have a glucose meter in her purse, so she made me test my blood.Have I mentioned I hate needles? Apparently, this includes little tiny (almost invisible) needles. I was a big huge baby, just ask her.Anyway, I had a low reading. So she has lent me

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-90536512147566312462011-11-28T09:34:00.003-05:002011-11-28T09:56:04.123-05:00

Apparently*, it takes about 21 days to make something a habit. I would propose that this is only correct when we're talking about BAD habits. Or perhaps, habits that don't really take any effort.I walked 5k every single day for over a month, and I was feeling great about it. I was feeling better, sleeping better, and I even managed to lose a few pounds.All it took was a few days of unpleasant

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-71530653249170485102011-11-27T20:46:00.006-05:002011-11-27T20:53:34.212-05:00

Just... no.Although, if you want to wear an adult onsie, be my guest.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-22636260071449428142011-11-26T23:28:00.009-05:002011-11-27T00:19:54.997-05:00

Go:Okay, so I can't write anything on the "proper" computer because my husband is taking a programming course online, which,of course takes precedence. You know... learning and whatever.So today, the big kid and I went down to the library to make some clay things with some people from the Gardiner Ceramics museum. Which I hope to take her to at some point. You can get free passes through the

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-75627658130195333692011-11-25T12:11:00.005-05:002011-11-25T12:37:30.466-05:00

Lately, I've been gently urging Kee towards using the potty. There is absolutely no point being heavy handed because I've never met anyone as stubborn as my little girl. I KNOW that I'm the parent here, but using the toilet is one of those things that parents really cannot control. You can lead the kid to the toilet, but you can't make them poop. I do wish she'd hurry up and decide that she's

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-44062920961213377272011-11-24T12:22:00.004-05:002011-11-24T15:50:04.830-05:00

My kids have been using scissors safely, and with minimal supervision, for quite a while now. Since they've never cut anything other than the craft they were working on, I may have gotten complacent. I may have decided that it was okay for me to turn my back on them; even read a book. Whoops.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-72547954295844836612011-11-23T11:55:00.005-05:002011-11-23T12:03:37.342-05:00

By KeeOnce upon a time, there was a girl named Ariel. She liked to hug her prince tightly. But she didn't know the rules on the boat. So the prince said, "No hugging tightly on the boat."Then she hitted her prince on the bum. The prince said, "No hitting people's bums on the boat!" But she didn't know that rule either!Then Ariel was hungry, so she ate all the food in the bottom of the boat. And

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-4856242488882559062011-11-22T09:27:00.008-05:002011-11-22T12:08:19.179-05:00

My husband loves words. His favourite ones though are the strange ones that most people don't use. The problem with those words, of course, is that if they're not in common usage, you don't always know how to pronounce them.He was a very smart kid - voracious reader - and no one ever bothered to correct his mispronunciations. And really, how often is a word like "acrostic" (which he used to

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-7899739853443351062011-11-20T22:11:00.007-05:002011-11-20T22:47:18.880-05:00

So. We bought Beege some "indoor shoes" for school. They were plain, purple and white runners. She liked them, I liked them and they were $9.97, so everyone was happy.Unfortunately, as we found out when she was running through the house after practicing tying her laces, they do not have "non-marking" soles. My husband spent 20 minutes on the kitchen floor with a baby wipe cleaning up shoe trails.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-86461339256052286912011-11-19T21:12:00.007-05:002011-11-19T22:35:51.599-05:00

Years ago, before we had kids, before we were married, my husband (then boyfriend) and I received a flyer for dance lessons. We thought "What the hell? Could be fun!" and signed up. We went to a few lessons, and unfortunately, we really really sucked. Work got in the way, we found that we didn't have enough time, and we sucked so much that it didn't seem like a big deal to give it up. Today, we

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-50561892781249543822011-11-18T13:30:00.006-05:002011-11-18T13:45:03.502-05:00

Kee has not been easy to get along with lately. She's been extremely touchy, and likely to scream at you for everything. If I touch her with a fingertip, she yells that I'm hurting her.* The simplest request can be met with a fifteen minute defiant tirade. She is also doing things to purposely piss me off. I will ask her not to climb up the back of the couch (for the eight hundredth time) and she

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-24903533785523959542011-11-17T11:29:00.004-05:002011-11-17T11:35:51.790-05:00

"Triceratopses are Vegetarians!"

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-58926416168525791932011-11-16T10:02:00.004-05:002011-11-16T23:18:40.184-05:00

So, one morning, we're getting ready to go, and Kee starts loading her pockets with tiny dinosaurs. I told her to pick something else, because I didn't want them to get lost. They won't get lost. They might get lost. They WON'T GET LOST! Fine. I let her bring one dinosaur. So she picked her favourite one, who she calls "Stingosaurus."After dropping Beege off, we went for our walk. About a block

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-21620719899093251222011-11-15T09:57:00.009-05:002011-11-15T12:37:16.111-05:00

When I think of a "bully", I think of someone angry, aggressive, and possibly sad, who takes out their negative feelings on other people; often, targeting a few specific people. I think of it as a series of ongoing events; the "bully" searching out opportunities to intimidate others. Which is why I was incredibly surprised when one of the parents approached me in the school line-up and said, in a

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-81971339974665122942011-11-13T18:17:00.002-05:002011-11-13T18:21:18.778-05:00

I'm really going to have to think of something else to make with all this felt, or my house is going to be overrun with these "pillow people," as the girls are calling them. Luckily, Christmas is coming, and I've still got plenty of time (and ideas) to whip up a few presents. Not all pillow people, I promise.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-422305645409402212011-11-12T22:36:00.006-05:002011-11-13T13:41:59.222-05:00

So. My sister had this baby and he is absolutely adorable. I was a little too tired when he was born at 1:30am yesterday to fully appreciate him. He was soft and lovely and stuff, but if you've seen a brand new, right-out-of-the-mum baby, then you know that they are kind of icky.I mean... lovely, of course, but they're still all covered in gunk, and there's goop in their eyes and you can still

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-65341683823477131792011-11-11T12:35:00.005-05:002011-11-11T13:12:50.716-05:00

Yesterday started out badly. There was the usual morning nonsense getting the kids up and out. I broke my favourite mug while grumbling through doing the dishes. A stranger at the school informed me of a possible problem concerning Beege at school. I stepped in dog diarreah on my way home. Seriously. It was not going well.Then my sister called. My very, very pregnant sister had broken her water

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-58345975420591696632011-11-10T11:01:00.003-05:002011-11-10T12:41:08.392-05:00

Only 191oz. (or 5443 grams) more to go.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-67465643036870282242011-11-09T09:56:00.009-05:002011-11-09T14:06:16.002-05:00

As she sat, drinking her tea and watching ducks lazily glide across the water, she was happy. She glanced back into the room and saw her husband still sleeping, his arm thrown over his eyes. She loved the morning. Loved the solitude and the chance to be alone with her thoughts. Loved the freshness of the day, the promise of it.She generally got more done before nine than most people did before

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-49620514734457993482011-11-08T09:36:00.011-05:002011-11-16T23:17:40.237-05:00

We have lived in the basement at my grandpa and grandma's house since before Beege was born. He had his first heart attack the March just after she turned one. I had woken up and was standing in my living room when I saw the flashing lights. I knew he would be okay by the way he was joking with the paramedics on the way out on the stretcher. After a couple of surgeries and a lengthy stay in the

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-4385745560299735102011-11-07T11:58:00.007-05:002011-11-07T13:08:11.915-05:00

I don't know what it is about this neighbourhood, but people seem to really hate squirrels. Judging from where their stiff little corpses end up, I'm guessing at least a few people have actually swerved to hit them.This makes things a little difficult for me (and I'm sure it pisses the squirrels off too).You see, Kee loves squirrels. Just loves them. She calls them "Loolies."* She likes to stop

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-90481806518752494022011-11-06T05:51:00.006-05:002011-11-06T06:18:08.798-05:00

Well, it's that time of year again: Daylight Savings Time.Unlike a lot of people, I don't have that much of a problem with it. I tend to naturally adjust anyway; I've had a real issue getting up before 7:00 for about three weeks now, waking up at 8:00 on the dot. It'll be a relief tomorrow when I don't feel so much like a zombie when I get up at 7:00. Which used to be 8:00. You know what I

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-64097930363354791562011-11-05T13:08:00.003-04:002011-11-05T13:15:46.886-04:00

Don't let it get away.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-24223281583681595712011-11-04T16:36:00.003-04:002011-11-04T16:56:39.644-04:00

Today, being entirely stumped for a topic, due to busy day syndrome, I bow to the "Prompt of the Day". So:When you are writing, do you prefer to use a pen or a computer?The preferred method of getting my words down really depends on what it is I'm writing. For my blog, the computer wins, hands down. It's also got to be a desk top computer, with a proper keyboard and everything. I tried blogging

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-31179290302504471912011-11-03T11:08:00.009-04:002011-11-10T12:40:55.827-05:00

My husband and I have known each other for quite a while now; we met at Frosh week when I was nineteen. We're coming up on our thirteenth anniversary*. That's a pretty long time, really, and there have been plenty of gift giving opportunities during that time.He is totally easy to buy for: if there is any new Star Wars anything, my shopping is done. Failing that, anything kinda nerdy-cool will do

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-63160326909447956792011-11-02T11:04:00.004-04:002011-11-02T11:32:38.193-04:00

Well, crap. Yet another thing that I didn't start when I meant to.Can I start late? Or have I already bunged it for this year? To be fair, I did have other things on my mind... pumpkins aren't going to carve themselves, and sadly, I can't study by osmosis.I tried to write every single day last year, I really did, and only managed to do 20. I suppose (even if I missed day 1) there is still the

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-42705250005266724752011-10-28T09:37:00.007-04:002011-10-28T16:23:26.657-04:00

When I was younger, I looked forward to my birthday much as other kids do. Birthdays are important when you're a kid. Not only are you another year older, but there are the presents. I don't know about you, but I didn't have that much disposable income. The yearly chance to have something that I'd been wanting was pretty great.There was the occasional crap birthday; the year I turned twelve and

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-62839875950532269582011-10-25T12:18:00.005-04:002011-10-25T12:53:49.107-04:00

When I was sixteen, I didn't really see the point of getting my driver's license. Not only did I live right downtown, but I had a boyfriend with a license. I also had a brother with a license. When I was older, I took the TTC a lot. No one in university had a car, so we were all transit dependent. I took my first road test when I was 26 and nine months pregnant. I failed for being "too cautious."

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-81760485193690491272011-10-21T09:34:00.007-04:002011-10-21T10:06:24.458-04:00

Fall is my very favourite season of the year. I love it when it's just chilly enough that you need a sweater, but not cold enough that you need a hat. (I look weird in hats.) Perfect for a walk. Kee and I have been going for long walks almost every day since the beginning of October. At first we had planned to just meander and explore the neighbourhood a bit. We discovered early on though that we

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-7334471124000238012011-10-17T13:46:00.006-04:002011-10-17T14:47:40.618-04:00

To be embarrassingly honest, I rarely leave the house in anything fancier than yoga pants and a plain knit top these days. I am really not the person to be giving fashion advice. However, even I cannot let this one pass.Leggings as pants: If you're wearing them with a cute short skirt, or a long tunic-y top, they're actually kinda cute. The key is to COVER YOUR BUTT. Do not wear them with a top

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-91306224553847592052011-10-14T13:12:00.003-04:002011-10-14T13:46:08.089-04:00

So. I haven't written much lately, and for that, I apologise. The problem, dear readers, has been my complete lack of concentration. I will have a great idea for something amusing to write about, and by the time I sit down in front of the computer, it's gone. So gone that I can't even remember why I sat down in the first place and I end up playing Bejeweled on Facebook.I put my laundry in the

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-4336857162078679312011-10-05T09:56:00.005-04:002011-10-05T10:19:39.285-04:00

I am SO out of shape I'm surprised I function. Which is really only relevant to this story because lately, Kee and I have been going for a walk every morning after we drop Beege off at school. Yesterday, as we were passing back around the school, I saw a mum I knew walking towards us. The mum of a kid in Beege's class. A mum who should have been at work. When I asked her if everyone was alright,

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-25688798292987706082011-10-03T11:01:00.005-04:002011-10-03T13:19:05.752-04:00

May I present an art installation by the lovely Miss Kee? Looking at this precariously balanced cup of milk, I immediately saw that she was representing the obviously fragile state of her mother's sanity.... and "don't cry over spilled milk."? The originator of this quaint saying obviously didn't have carpet.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-10812896029860363962011-09-26T09:50:00.007-04:002011-09-26T10:44:46.179-04:00

It may be a bit of an overreaction, but head lice freak me right out. I've always had very thick, straight, shiny hair. Which, unfortunately for me, is a perfect environment for those disgusting little bugs. When I was a kid, I had head lice several times. I still remember the time my mum had to take a whole day off of work and spend a whole day tugging through my hair with one of those awful nit

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-11000893544423876782011-09-23T09:33:00.008-04:002011-09-25T19:20:15.639-04:00

One of the biggest differences between kindergarten and grade one, so far, is that Beege has been bringing home work to do. It's actually voluntary, but she likes to do it, and I think it's a good idea for her to get used to homework as an idea as soon as possible. Personally, I'm all for homework. It gives your child a chance to reinforce the new skills being learned at school, while also

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-38741578820377560332011-09-22T10:14:00.006-04:002011-09-29T16:40:51.243-04:00

Among the many other things I've been doing, lately, I somehow managed to sneak in something that had absolutely nothing to do with children! For the past few years, in stolen moments here and there, I've been studying Business Management. I'm finally finished, graduated with "highest honours*", and my diploma is in the mail. I'm going to try and keep the kids from colouring on it, so that I can

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-16427975643287900682011-09-13T11:00:00.006-04:002011-09-13T11:33:09.766-04:00

So far, this school lunch thing has been a bit of a pain in the ass. Day 1: I packed: Painstakingly made-with-my-own-hands ravioli, carrots, grapes, apple juice and two lima bean cookies.She ate: Carrots, cookies and two raviolis. She said they didn't taste as good after she emptied the packet of salt and pepper onto them. (Note to self: Do not pack leftover take-out utensil packages that contain

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-84130055469525309962011-09-06T10:01:00.009-04:002011-09-06T14:27:07.259-04:00

When Beege started kindergarten, I stuck around for about ten minutes after she'd gone in the door. Then I wandered home vacantly, with tears in my eyes, and sat on the couch counting the minutes until I could (without being totally embarrassing) go back and sit outside the door and watch for her to come out. This morning, despite the utter chaos, I feel pretty good about leaving her there. I

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-8887608091532602362011-09-01T15:45:00.005-04:002011-09-01T17:46:42.190-04:00

My Grandpa was a gardener. He once won "best vegetable" in a gardening competition that he hadn't meant to enter. He has a garden full of roses. He once quit a job because management told him he wasn't allowed to whistle while he worked. When he was young, he loved to dance. Especially at fancy dress parties. He loved animals. He founded the Husky Club of Great Britain, he raised huskies and

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-75398133987929565472011-08-25T16:19:00.006-04:002011-08-25T17:13:41.685-04:00

Diapers. They have been a constant part of my life for the past five and a half years. I really thought I'd be done with them by now, since Kee's been three for a few months. She is entirely capable of using the potty, and she will, but usually, she just can't be bothered. The larger problem is that neither can I. Up to this point, I've neglected this particular avenue of my parental

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-27447521076627735882011-08-23T08:10:00.007-04:002011-09-14T18:07:37.777-04:00

You bet your butt it is! At this point, everyone in my house is heartily sick of each other. Even Kee is starting to ask "does Beege have school today?" every morning.I cannot WAIT until school starts.Beege is super excited about meeting new faces and tackling the new challenges of grade one. She has actually asked, her eyes sparkling with joy, "do you think I'll get to do homework this year?"

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-31498164668045931012011-08-19T08:42:00.011-04:002011-08-20T10:25:10.734-04:00

My daddy is a builder of things. He is a sharer of ju-jubes. He is a man who is usually pretty quiet and you should listen when he does talk because it's generally good sense; unless it's just a really bad joke. My daddy is a dog/cat/mouse/skunk/fox whisperer. He reads suspense novels in large print. He's kept a Lego "I love you" that we made for him when we were kids intact for almost 30 years

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-52271703523187845502011-08-13T10:49:00.009-04:002011-08-13T11:41:39.710-04:00

So far, I'm not doing very well in my vegetarianism quest. Like, yesterday I ate a steak. I am making progress though, because the whole time I was eating it, I was thinking I'd rather have a nice piece of salmon. Which, I know, still isn't quite vegetarian, but I feel like it's a step in the right direction. Anyway, meat guilt aside, I have been trying out some new foods! First in line,

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-9954011958517019092011-08-11T17:15:00.008-04:002011-08-11T17:42:36.714-04:00

A few days ago, I sat bolt upright at two o'clock in the morning. There had been a noise. A huge thump from right above my head, in my grandparents' dining room. Heart pounding, I threw back the covers and raced to the door. I flung it open* and raced up the stairs to make sure everything was okay. Everything was absolutely fine, no one was hurt, my grandpa had just knocked over a dining chair

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-20781698981929525042011-08-05T14:58:00.013-04:002011-08-06T20:21:29.137-04:00

When I went up to the cottage, we did the usual things. We brought our books and towels to read on the dock. We swam in fish infested* lake water. We ate, we did a puzzle, we lolled around doing nothing. We went on a hike. We made rude jokes and swore a lot. We all pretended to have french accents. We swung by the nearest town to hit the liquor store.** You know... cottage stuff.It was beautiful.

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-5165882755919641502011-08-02T12:46:00.001-04:002011-08-02T12:49:22.097-04:00

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-7660929018436347402011-07-28T08:42:00.009-04:002011-07-28T18:40:00.873-04:00

How many times do you have to do something before you can call it annual? We're on our second year now, so I'm going with it. Last year, 3 of my friends and I were lucky enough to get a great deal at a place near Hamer Lake. It was wonderful. Two days of not having to look after anyone but myself. No one asking me where their crap was or to do things for them. It was awesome.This weekend we're

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-5849092067332856782011-07-24T07:56:00.005-04:002011-07-24T08:44:05.976-04:00

The main problem with being a vegetarian is the "no meat" part of it. Not that I'm a vegetarian. It's not because I'm a vege-phobe either; I love vegetables. It's just that I've never had a meal that couldn't be improved by bacon.I think I ought to give it a try though. It's been brought to my attention that I may not be the healthiest of individuals; mostly because my body appears to be

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-42639819502037058932011-07-21T09:54:00.005-04:002011-07-21T10:27:22.062-04:00

And the heat. As the owner of pasty white skin that burns in five seconds, I am really not a huge fan of summer. When you throw in temperatures of thirty-eight degrees (one hundred for you Fahrenheit users)... well, I start doing crazy things.Like wearing shorts. I have not worn shorts for over ten years. I mean... stretch marks that look like I've been mauled by a bear, pasty whiteness, and now

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-14074607353550331762011-07-18T13:07:00.003-04:002011-07-18T13:50:30.331-04:00

I really fell down on the job, with that whole "One a Day" thing. I have decided to blame medical issues. I did get back to the doctor a second time and... it's nothing. Okay. Not technically "nothing", but nothing that can be fixed with a pill. I was actually hoping that it would be something big enough that I could lie down for a few days without feeling guilty about it, but small enough that

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-34677370567686104892011-07-12T14:07:00.007-04:002011-07-12T22:58:38.395-04:00

When you go to a show of any kind*, it is courteous to behave with some common decency. Show some respect to both the audience who have paid to be there and the performers who have put in the hard work.Presumably, as you have your inconsiderate ass planted (albeit haphazardly) in a seat, you have come to see the show. This would be infinitely more evident if you would refrain from conversing with

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-75252559661479537162011-07-11T18:06:00.007-04:002011-07-12T09:06:25.008-04:00

On Saturday night, I was actually able to leave the house without my entire family dragging along behind me. I went downtown (a rare enough occurrence, I assure you) and saw a show with my mum. We saw a performance by "After Hours". They're an acapella group that a friend of mine from high school formed. They've been around for a while now, in one form or another*, but I've never had the chance

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-34171259669758376232011-07-06T10:29:00.008-04:002011-07-06T14:16:21.818-04:00

As the sun comes up, they gather for their meeting. Their tousled hair and sleepy smiles make them seem almost angelic; if you overlook the hard gleam in their eyes."Good morning." "Good morning. Let's get right to business, shall we?"They settle, cross legged, onto the carpet and begin."Well, yesterday, I think we almost broke her," says the smaller of the two, pushing her soft blonde hair out

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-3627204315595297252011-06-28T17:56:00.003-04:002011-06-28T18:18:17.430-04:00

When I was younger, if I wanted to try something new, I would base my drink choices on strange names or packaging. When I started drinking (gasp!) alcohol, I very often ended up with a glass of miscellaneous green or Windex-blue. Apparently, I have not changed much at all; when I saw this at the store, I could not resist. It was even pretty tasty! Apparently, lots of people who are not me did

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-59992227648847983172011-06-24T09:55:00.005-04:002011-06-25T21:20:55.489-04:00

I am from books, from Jiffy Pop and Supercycles.I am from the house in the middle of my street, from curling up on my daddy's lap to watch thunder storms.I am from lilac bushes that made excellent Barbie tree houses and roses that were beautiful end-of-the-year teacher's gifts.I am from camping in the summer and sunburned skin, from Christmas dinner at the G's, from forts made of sheets and

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634914402343967637.post-80295728922670536032011-06-21T21:05:00.005-04:002011-06-21T21:29:11.534-04:00

I finally went to the doctor today. Apparently, a hole (fine, it's more of a large dent) in your leg is a perfectly normal thing, and I just have to get used to the disfigurement, a la stretch marks and spider veins. (Thanks, kids! Although, I haven't found a way to blame them for my leg dent yet.)We haven't quite figured out the other stuff - the tingling, the muscle spasms and the falling

Skwisheehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12248662505320434618noreply@blogger.com3