Dear John Letter To Guilt

Dear Guilt,

Up Yours! 

I know, harsh words, but ya know what?  I'm not bothered.  You've been around far too often and it's time you knew you're really unwelcome.  You've taken just too many liberties and I'm over it.

Like the other day...I felt you when I layed on the couch, exhausted, while the kids had to amuse themselves for a change.  I WAS EXHAUSTED!

Today is the day I'm saying "NO" to you.  Today Big T wanted a break from his 'lil summer camp and I'm obliging him 'cuz "I" don't feel like the run-around either.  Today the boys are watching tv...a lot of tv...they're playing on the computer, the iPad, whatever.  (and we may even go to the dreaded mall!)  By the kids doing this, I am able to sort through the mountains (yep, plural) of laundry and paperwork that have grown all over our house.  I've got socks on my kitchen table for Pete's sake.  And no, I don't know who Pete is and I'm not bothered about that either.  Stop changing the subject.  The point is that no matter what, I will not feel you today.

As much as I'd rather be off having a pedicure (have you seen the state of my feet?) I'm going to get organized today 'cuz that is for me too.  Cluttered house, cluttered mind and all that.  Oh, yah, and I'm writing this post while they watch tv in their bedroom...what do you say about that?  I say guilt-schmilt!

So pack up your shit, Guilt...out the door with you. 

(maybe see you tomorrow though...sigh)

The Stealth Squad

This post is dedicated to Diaries of a Grumpy Grateful Mom for introducing me to geocaching...can't believe I'd never heard of it before!  Thanks to her, my family & I had so much fun tonight! 

Geocaching...this is how they describe it on their website: 

"Geocaching is a real-world outdoor treasure hunting game. Players try to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, using GPS-enabled devices and then share their experiences online."

So that's exactly what we did tonight after dinner.  I kind of had to force my boys out of the house where our tvs, computers and iPhones reside, but after we found the treasure we were seeking, everyone was in agreement about how much fun it was and we're looking forward to our next treasure-hunting adventure.

Here's how it went ...


At the start of our hunt...scoping out the terrain.  It was determined that sandals will NOT be the footwear of choice for future missions.



It's supposed to be under a rock...One, Two, Three..LIFT!

Oooh!  We found it!!

Our Booty!

I've gotta say...I think I'm addicted!  Uh-oh, there's that addictive personality coming out again!  Blame it on that Grumpy Grateful Mom.  It wasn't even difficult explaining it to the boys that they weren't to take anything home but leave for someone else to find.  And it was so cute watching them be all sneaky while we put it back.  We really were The Stealth Squad. 

So I too am giving an unpaid endorsement to the sport (is it a sport?) of geocaching.  It's a great family activity, especially in the summer!  Who knows, we might even hide our own stash of something ... WAIT JUST A MINUTE!  I'm thinking this might be a good way of getting rid of all those annoying toys around the house...hmmmm.

Speechless Sunday

The Contents Of My Purse

I don't know about you, but I've always been kind of fascinated about the contents of someone's purse, bag, wallet, man-bag, fanny-pack, etc.

Perhaps I'm just nosy, but I think what a person carries around in their bag says a lot about them.

Now, I would NEVER go ahead and look in someone's bag without asking, but I have actually asked...but not complete strangers (I'm not a freak!), but a girlfriend, for example.  I usually get a wierd look, asked why I want to do that, and then they oblige me.  So far there hasn't been anything wierd in any of the bags...just the ol' boring stuff, wallet, lipstick, phone, maybe the odd tissue.  Nothing to write a blog post about.  (But I'm doing it anyways)

Back in my single days, I kind of took pride in the fact that I was very organized and carried a lot of stuff I might need "just in case".  I was the go-to girl.  If you were in desperate need of something, there was a good chance I had it in my purse.  A Tylenol?  Got it.  A bandaid?  Got it.  Condom....haha!  Okay, there was one thing I wasn't prepared for.

All I can say is that the contents of my purse has changed DRAMATICALLY since becoming a mom.  All sorts of wierd stuff ends up in there.  For example, this is my purse after today...

This actually isn't too bad.  There's lots of useful things in there. 

You've got your tennis ball for any impromtu tennis match you might partake in. 

If a sudden dump of snow happens, despite it being the middle of summer, there's the snowboard/ski lock you'll be needing. 

A rock for skipping merrily into the lake you just happen to be sitting next to while eating your fruit leather, followed by some Jelly Bellies 'cuz it's 1pm and you still haven't had hardly any breakfast, let alone lunch.   Oh, and there's the spoon I'm going to need to scoop up said Jelly Bellies from the bottom of my bag.

I see the instructions for that Bubble Launcher piece of crap toy that the boys just got from their Grandma.  That's pretty important to have in there.  It doesn't matter that the toy is absolute shite, doesn't work with or without instructions, leaks all over and is the biggest waste of money.

Look!  A little green marble.  Who doesn't need or want a marble with them at all times? 

Wallet...check.  Cell phone...check.  Shades...check.

Aaah, the essential Starbucks Iced Via sample.  No cup and no ice, but that probably doesn't matter since there's a Starbucks on practically every corner of every street in every city around the world.

Let's not forget about Papa Smurf sportin' a telescope and the baby from Toy Story 3.  Smurfs just make people happy and there's that 3rd baby I'm not going to have.

The piece de resistance that every mom should carry...4 Hotwheels cars.  These are essential to combat the whining that will surely ensue once the car enthusiast in your family starts to freak because he didn't bring one single car with him to the park and he NEEEEEEEDS one! 

So there we have it.  Guess the only thing this says about me is I'm a mom and a sucker for carrying around other people's things.  Why there isn't any Tylenol in there is beyond me since these days I probably get more headaches than I did when I was single.

Now I'd just love to know...

What's in your bag?

Watch Out For Addictive Behaviour!

I started this blog as I think most mommy bloggers do...as a way to vent about my day, to keep a record for my kids of our times together when they were young, but mostly because I needed something...ANYTHING, for myself...just for ME, a creative outlet in a way.

And now I'm starting to freak. (No, Hubby, not be a freak...geesh)

Blogging is fun, but it's addictive, as I imagine most addictive behaviour is or starts out as.  I've never considered myself as having an addictive personality...until now. 

To make matters worse...or better, depending on who you talk to...I created a Twitter account!

 (What have I done?)

For those of you out there who have heard me diss Twitter...I know!  I know!  I am now eating crow...or whatever kind of tweety bird the Twitter bird is.  (I'm so confused)  I notice so many mommy bloggers are tweeting that there must be something to it and I hate being left out of the loop. 

So there.  Call me a hypocrite.  It is what it is and I yam what I yam (oh, do forgive the corny Popeye pun), which I suppose what I am now is a Tweeter?  A Twitterer?  A Twit?  (Hey, now!)

Aaaack, I have no idea what I'm doing, but you can watch my new addiction me figure it out here if you've nothing better to do.

Laundry Room Blues

Okay, this post will most definitely be categorized as a rant.  It won't be positive...less than jolly...there might be swearing (or suggested swearing at least!)...most certainly sarcastic.

I've just gotta know...what the EFF is up with my laundry room?  Upon walking into it, I turn into this:

It has a mind of its own.  I think it's out to get me. 

It's like an episode from that show Hoarders...or whatever the eff that show is called.

I try..I really try, but no matter what I do...how I try to keep it tidy...a day after I organize the recycling, empty the laundry basket, clean out the paint brushes in the sink and put them away, it's back to looking like the killing fields of Cambodia - okay, that's inappropriate...not the same at all.  But I'm ranting here.  (And I didn't say it was going to be a rational rant.)  How 'bout my laundry room is more like your local dump?  When in doubt, dump it in the laundry room.  Bikes & helmuts?  Strollers?  Swimming gear?  Old, broken toys that we say we're going to throw out?  And garbage...oh, so much effin' garbage!  No place to put it?  Nonesense!  Shove it in the laundry room!

Oh, did I say it happened after a day?  Who am I kidding?  It happens in the blink of an eye...at least as soon as I turn my back.  I'm so very afraid each morning of what is going to await me.  And there's no one to blame (or no one who will accept the blame).

It's ALIVE!

So here's what it looked like this morning...

And here's how I wished it looked:

Maybe if I think hard enough about the latter pic, I can actually make it materialize.  Law of Attraction and all that.

Can you imagine how you'd purposely get yourself dirty, throw your kids in the mud just to spend time in that glorious laundry room?  No...imagine a maid doing your laundry in that glorious laundry room while you have a massage, a facial, a pedicure .... sigh ...

Okay, I'm done.  Rant's over.

For now.

My Big Plan

So as I'm on my hands and knees, my glamourous blue rubber gloves with the floral cuffs adorning my hands up to my elbows, cleaning the bathroom floor, Little K walks in and says to me:  "What are you doing, Mum?"  In his defense, it's not surprising he's asking me this question because it's something he rarely sees.  Please notice I said "rarely".  So that doesn't mean never.  Just almost never.

This gets me thinking about one of my goals in life...to be the best mother-in-law in the world.  I have a sneaky 'lil plan; I just don't know how I'm going to go about achieving it yet.  One way I think I can achieve this highly coveted status is not by cleaning my future daughter-in-law's bathroom, though I guess that would make me pretty amazing.  No, her fabulous husband can do that.  And by "fabulous husband", I mean one of MY fabulous boys, which I'm going to help create.  I need to teach them how to clean, how to LOVE cleaning, how not to complain about cleaning, to clean with a smile on their face and to know that cleaning is not only woman's work.  Quite a task I've set for myself.

The question is:  When do I start on my evil ingenious plan?  I've taught them a few things here and there...have had them vaccuum or wipe up a spill, help clean their room, but they're still itty-bitties afterall.  Sometimes it's just easier for Hubby and I to do it ourselves. (I know!  I'm sabotaging the whole thing!)  I just get so tired of hearing myself talk about cleaning, cajoling my boys into doing it without much success.  What I want to know is:  When do I put a mop and bucket in their hands and say off you go and you'll thank me for this later when all the girls are beating down your oh-so-clean and dare I say fresh-smelling bachelor pad.  If my boys don't thank me, their sigificant others surely will.  And then of course once they have said mop and bucket in hand, how do I make them head off in the direction of the loo, willingly and with a sure-mom-anything-for-you attitude?  ('Cuz that attitude exists, right?)  There will no doubt be an insane amount of whining wheeling and dealing involved.

I'm really going to have to think this through because I'm thinking that Hubby and I may not be the best role models for the boys when it comes to keeping a tidy/clean house.  Don't get me wrong...we clean up...I'd be really insane if we didn't (as opposed to just a little bit insane?)  This is a "do as I say, not as I do" situation.  I used to be a good and consistent cleaner back in my single days when it didn't take half the day to pick up the crap toys on the floor before you even pulled out the vaccuum. 

All is not lost though because I know good cleaners run in my family.  My Dad was the youngest of a bunch of kids and his mom was pretty great at raising him to be a good husband...(well, at least in the area of keeping up the home.  He sucked at the faithful husband part.)  But he was a good cleaner/fixer-upper, those sorts of things.  My brothers don't shy away from a good cleaning either.  And Hubby?   Um, when it gets bad...really bad.  However, when he's in his cleaning mood, he is pretty thorough.  (See, Hubby?  This really is a compliment.)

I think my lack-luster attitude about the deep clean goes back to after having Big T and reading that you don't want to over sanitize everything...helps build a better immune system, etc.  I let out a big sigh of relief and maybe even a loud "Hoo Haw!" with a click of my heels thrown in.  To say I was relieved would be an understatement.  Afterall, I didn't want my child to be sick all the time.  I had a great uncle who used to say "You have to eat a ton of dirt before you die".  Makes sense to me.

Whoops!  Looks like I've gone on a bit of a tangent.  Back to the question of when to begin with my boys?  I remember my Mom writing names on the calendar for which kid's day it was to do the dishes.  I think I was about 11.

So I'm looking to hear from some of you fabulous moms out there who might be able to give me some great tips on this subject and help me in my not so meniacal plan.  Especially those of you with older children. What worked?  What didn't? 

I couldn't resist setting these shots up...look how my 'lil dudes obliged me.  A good sign perhaps?