Thursday, April 17, 2003

Canada -
Although originally a simple British colony, it has
flourished into a Mid-Level power. Admired
worldwide for its culture, acceptance and
quality of living standards.


Loved By All.

Mid-Level Power.

Renouned Despite Proximity to Superpower.

Damn Good Maple Syrup, Inuit.


Often Ignored.


Monarch-Democractic Struggles.


Which Country of the World are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

This is for all you Northern knitbloggers out there. I am not weird, I am "Canadian."

A tip for the mamas who share familial Maisy fixations: the P-man swears Charlie is just drunk all the time. It's very amusing to watch with that thought in mind..."Stupid Charlie, he threw up on the train! Uh oh!..."

Tuesday, April 15, 2003

I am ashamed of myself for being so lazy. I should have been posting all along. I'll try to get this done before I have to go pick my girl up from school, but I'm making no promises.

Weekend Before Last--Calm-Before-the-Storm Mama
Cleaned house, knit on sister's sock, watched silly movies with the P-man, visited Celestial Seasonings (and the peppermint room!), drooled over all the Burt's Bees products in the gift shop. P-man is a Tea-man. Ho, ho, ho. Also, on Thursday prior, a curmudgeon in the making. Take note, Marilyn. After school, my girls were playing with plastic zoo animals, along with their friends, Miss S and Miss V, while I chatted with their mom. Miss S is the same age as Isabel, and Miss V is a little bit older than Alice. Miss S quickly got fed up with Alice's slash-and-burn style of play and started blocking her from the table. So Alice picks up a plastic lamb and commences banging it loudly on the table. Miss S screeches "Stop making that noise Alice right now!!!" and Alice stops, looks at her, says, "Oh, shut up." and returns to banging. I had to step into the kitchen to laugh my ass off. She's my girl too, just a little bit.

Monday--Eat-Yer-Young Mama
While shopping for fabric to make summer outfits, (my summer theme: Hawaiian prints. Lots of them.) Alice tipped over the shopping cart with Teddy strapped inside, one of assorted crimes and misdemeanors (they saved the felonies for the next day.) Screwed up the time change completely and scared P-man into thinking we were dead in a ravine somewhere since we were not there to pick him up for his meeting like I promised. Doll that he is, he's just glad we're okay. It is totally unfair and uncalled-for to subject someone with my tenuous relationship with Time(concept, not magazine) to bizarre and arbitrary changes. Where does the hour go? Mothballs? I'm too sensitive for this. Oh, and as if the rapidly-filling sink that required the assistance of two plumbers was not enough, Isabel spit in my face while I was wrestling her into the car after her doctor's appointment. Let's just say she won't do that again.

Tuesday--Hell-For-Leather Mama
I'll be having nightmares about this day for years to come. An ugly incident in the morning with baby powder and diaper rash cream set the tone. Fought with the kids all day, probably due to my resentment over senseless acts of messiness perpetrated on my home. Nearly forgot about parent meeting; wish I had. Find that sliding door to minivan is apparently on hiatus. Lose last marble and watch it roll away, under car, down hill. Go to meeting and try to refrain from bludgeoning co-chairs who assigned me a co-chair for next year. (I was running unopposed.) Do I need a keeper? Probably, after this day. Sprint out of meeting; arrive home in tears. Begin to gibber. Rescued by Angel Brea, who took me out for a great many drinks and a therapeutic grilled cheese sandwich. Met her new beau, Matthew, a keeper (when we met up with him her asked if I wanted a drink and then went and bought it for me! Amazing.) He also carries a Barrel O'Monkey in his pocket. (Just the one, last I heard.) All in all, dreamy, so yay! Brea. ( You should go for him. You look hot tonight.) Threaten to sell Isabel to Jesus. Most probably left my debit card and first completed sister-sock at a bar so divey there's no telephone! Only I would leave a handknit sock in a bar.

Wednesday--Hung-over Mama
Sort of a blur. But creatively productive, as I made more Hawaiian skirts and some girly-girly purses. Sewing machines are cool. P-man bought me a CD by a guy named Josh Ridder, last song on Six Feet Under last week. Very mellow.Teacher Tara calls me an "old soul." Slowly begin to wonder: where did sock go?

Thursday--In Which Our Heroine's Spirits Rise
Aide at school. Realize I am really a tall five-year-old. Watch kids dig up stealth mutant carrots.Hang out in backyard with fellow mama and bitch about preschool politics. Cast on for sweater: um, yeah, right, like that's exactly what I need right now.

Friday--Never Mind
Nothing really happened. Didn't clean my house. Didn't find sock. Contemplate upping dosage or at least choosing high-functioning painkiller/alcohol addiction as lifestyle. Neighbor sees me walking five kids to preschool and voices surprise at how little I drink. Baby cardigan: blah, blah, blah. Consider starting T-shirt company just so I can wear shirts that say "Fuckup," "Early Bloomer," and "Always a bride, never a bridesmaid." (Thanks, B.)

Saw "The Sweetest Thing" the other night and nearly wet my pants laughing. B-run, don't walk to the store to get this one. Found friend Rose's knickers in my wash-again. Agreed to watch my kid brother every day for who knows how long, 'cause obviously what I need most in this world right now is another kid. And my Saturn Return isn't due for like six years. Maybe I'm an alien.

From the Front Lines...


Wednesday, April 02, 2003

Babies ahoy! Welcome to Harper, a St. Paddy's girl, and Ethan, Teacher Lorelei's new son. Not to get all gushy, but I truly am thrilled with new people. Newborns are wonderful! (In fact, I have a gently-used two-year-old if someone wants to swap...) The last few days I have been burning up the needles making baby sweaters (I am glad I've found a good use for all the closeout Snowflake DK I bought last winter, it's just the thing for newborn skin, but, man o man, am I getting tired of knitting with it) and dealing with Bel, who has had a bladder infection and has been so bitchy she could give Leona Helmsley tips. More on that later, but I am a lazy mama tonight and must go be a couch slug before bedtime. Although, I must say, I am compelled to voice my opinion on acronyms. In general, unless it's a non-profit or some other business-related thing, it seems like laziness. (Who would want to have to say whatever Fannie Mae stands for longhand all the time?) But lol and btw and rofl and imho can KMA. I can make an exception for FUBAR, though. Come on, is your typing really that slow? It's probably an aversion that stems from my mother, whose spelling is so counter-intuitive and atrocious that the grocery list seemed made up of acronyms. When the P-man and I don't have time to spell words (or phrases) in front of the kiddos, we use Pig Latin. I highly recommend.