Which brings me here... to you... for some incoherent ramblings...
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Maddie's "new" thing is picking out everyone's outfit in the morning. What started with her sometimes picking out her sister's outfits have morphed into Total Fashion Domination. She (sometimes) gets the chance to pick out the Hubs tie. She (always) picks out lil' Kate's duds. And my "walk her to school outfit" - meh, I'm down with being told what to wear - decision making before 8am was never my strong suit. Except yesterday - when she looked through my closet and picked out a green sparkly "going out dancing back when I was in my early 30's and perhaps did that kind of thing" tank top. She declared it JUST PERFECT and told me that OF COURSE it matched my yoga pants and no it WASN'T TOO FANCY for 8am. (I'd love to be that cool, "who cares what people think" mom and say I wore it ... but too effing bad - I do have some dignity...)
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Recovering from hernia repair surgery means I haven't been able to pick up (read: tote around on my hip for 68% of my waking hours) my little Katiebear. Like, at all. While still a tiny one, she definitely qualifies for over the 5-pound limit I have for the four week post-op recovery period. I've had plenty of help from my mom and MIL, and really, she's not had any lack of attention... but OF COURSE this past week is when she has decided to pull out the big guilt guns, right? And started mewling "MA-MA" whenever she wants a cuddle. (Also? As an aside? What is UP with toddlers sounding like baby goats when they first start saying "mama"? It's all gurgly and bleaty and baby-goaty, non?) So yes. To answer any aspiring-mom-to-be who may not know this - the emotional manipulation starts EARLY, yo.
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Aside from spending time not-picking-up-my-baby and not-wearing-sparkly-tank-tops-to-JK-drop-off, I've also been making good on my promise to get myself organized. The garage. Our closets. The spice cupboard (oh you don't even want to know what was going on in there). It's just been organize, organize, all the time organize, around these parts. (Which you know, makes the Hubs a BIG fan of me. *cough*cough* Lifting totes of clothes up and down 2 flights, back and forth, several times buddy - yay!) But at least I can say I've accomplished this month's goal. As for the actual list of goals for the next 11 months - that is coming... soon. Erm.... Shut up. I've been busy organizing...
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Remember that cookbook that Jerry Seinfeld's wife wrote a few years ago. Teaching moms everywhere to hide vegetables in various meals. Because, Yay! Healthy! And also, Yay! No more complaining from the loud, annoying kidlet at that table! Well, I saw it on one of the restocking carts at the library last week and was all... I'm Inspired! Let's make purees! And hide them in food! And try out new, weird, recipes!!!
Big fat 'effing failure. Three recipes in and I'm already eyeing up the pureed beets with suspicion of just HOW long will I let them take up precious ice cream space in my freezer before they hit the green bin.
I give them 3 months. A month per recipe failure perhaps...
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It's an old friend's birthday this weekend and I'm taking her up on an afternoon facial, some hardcore window shopping for me (here I come Anthro - you better be ready for me), and an evening soiree. My prediction for the outing goes like this... I spend so much time window shopping I don't allot nearly enough time to hair-straightening-the-mane, and therefore spend the evening looking like a 1987 throwback (thereby solidifying my entrance into cougertown), I drink just that one glass too many glasses of proseco and become the loud "I DON'T GET OUT MUCH" lady at the party, and spend at least a half hour on the drive home looking for a drive-thru McD's in downtown TO so that I can scarf a hangover-reducing Sausage & Egg combo (supersized for the extra hashbrown) on my drive home to the 'burbs and screaming kidlets. All in all - a great time that I'm VERY much looking forward to...
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Speaking of girls' nights out ... I'm planning an awesomesauce party of my own for November. It's an idea I first saw on Pinterest (if you haven't checked this site out, you need to set aside, oh, AN ENTIRE WEEKEND, to really go through and savour the gorgeousness and inspirational messiah that it is)... It's called a Favourite Things Party and essentially is this: everyone brings their favourite thing (anything they like... favourite lip gloss, favourite kitchen tool, favourite gift wrapping supply, etc). It can't cost more than $6 and each person brings five of the same thing. Then, everyone draws names - and there's a massive exchange, so everyone goes home with 5 different items - of other's party-goers' favourite things... I think this, along with copious bottles of wine and kid-free weekend status will make this a fairly fantastic evening.
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That's all I've got... Oh - a Seamus update.... he's still around (barely, some days) - his puppy-ness is starting to subside (as in, no more chewed toys/shoes/random boxes of kleenex), but he seems to have forgotten everything he ever learned in puppy class. He can't walk on a leash for shite, he still jumps on everyone (including Kates - which doesn't help her "new walking status" so much), and he stinks. Like very, very bad. It's like he's rolled in a pile of mildewy, rotting, wormy, leaves. Every day. All the time. Mr. Stinksalot. (Yes, I've tried bathing him - it just adds the distinct odour of "wet dog" to the above.) Maybe it's a terrier thing? It bothers me less-so than the Hubs - but even I can't deny he is a stinky gross smelly hotmess. Awwwww - and he's all miiiiiiiiiiine!
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| Yes, that's totally a skull + crossbones leash. Maddie calls him her "Pirate Dog". |
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And on that note..... I'm hoping the two mugs of warm milk I've had while writing this incoherent mess of a post will actually do something and I'll catch some zzz's. G'nite.
xxoo.S
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