I am aquiver with ebullience

Baby, it's cold outside

To be entirely accurate, it actually just started snowing.

And we are supposed to leave in about 1.5 hours to go camping for the weekend.

I think I need to get some new friends (and family) who realize that camping and snowboots should not go together.

And my weird husband prefers to camp in the rain (and probably snow).

At least I know he will get up early and bring me coffee (and maybe a little Carolans) in bed.

Which is often helpful in smoothing out the rough edges of things like camping in the snow.

Have a good weekend!

(PS if we're not back by Monday, send out the Search & Rescue sled team out to Mabel Lake).

Loves me like a Rock

When I was a little boy, (when I was just a boy)
And the devil would call my name (when I was just a boy)
I'd say now who do,
Who do you think your'e fooling? (when I was just a boy)
I'm a consecrated boy (when I was just a boy)
I'm a singer in a sunday choir
Oh, my mama loves, she loves me
She get down on her knees and hug me
Like she loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And loves me
She love me, love me, love me, love me

That is the first part of a song by Paul Simon.

This is the version my son sings:

When I was a little boy, (when I was just a boy)
And the devil would call my name (when I was just a boy)
I'd say now who do,
Who do you think you're fooling? (when I was just a boy)
I'm a constipated boy (when I was just a boy)
I'm a singer in a sunday choir
Oh , my mama loves, she loves me
She get down on her knees and hug me
Like she loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And loves me
She love me, love me, love me, love me

This version made for much laughter in the car every day of last week. (and it made me thankful that we don't use cassette tapes anymore, rewinding that many times would be quite time consuming.)

After singing it for the first time, Jake asked me if I knew what constipation was.

Sadly, after giving birth to two children, I know it well.

Then he shared with me that his buddy, Brady, had just told him what it was (*whispering* it's when you can't poooooooo *insert more laughter and happy tears*)

Naturally, I had to ask how this came up in conversation and he said, "Well, you know when we rode our bikes to the corner store the other day (that was part two in my Journey to Severing the Umbilical Cord), we were just talking about poo and other funny stuff and it came up".

Of course you were and of course it did.

Enough poo talk. 

I first want to apologize for taking so long to update (I'm certain those of you who commented on my last post have been waiting with bated breath.  uh huh.)

After much thought and consideration, the boys and I have collectively decided that Carla's theory on the reason behind the ever disintigrating underpants is both the funniest and probably the most close to the truth.

In our family at least.

Land of Confusion

As many of us have discovered, when you become a parent, there is no handbook. 

There are definitely people with opinions and ideas (some of which may be thrust at you over and over and over again until you want to punch those people square in the throat), but no handbook.

There are things I knew I would have to teach my children.

• good table manners (we're still working on that)
• how picking a pee tree and doing the deed au natural when camping is a much different thing than doing it at the park
• when you are old enough to answer the phone always remember to say hello, just standing there and breathing heavily is not really an acceptable method of greeting

But there are also things that I did not know would come up.

This week it was round two of underwear ettiquette.

Lesson one last was last summer:  (the rise and fall of Captain Underpantsless)

Lucas and I were shopping and I remembered that once again the boys needed new underwear. 

(aside:  how the heck do you wear out underpants? I am honestly baffled and would like to know)

So we picked a couple of packages and Lucas naturally gravitated towards the one with the pair of camo ones nestled between the grey and black pairs.

(I think he just thought he was thinking ahead to the fact that with camo underpants he would be able to flout the "One Aricle of Camo Clothing at a Time" rule I had to impose last year.)

Anyway, as soon as we got home, he ran upstairs to try on his new underwear. (He really can be a strange child at times).

When he came down later, strutting around, I noticed the front of his new gear looked like (excuse my indelicacy, but this phrase really sums up the look he was sporting) someone had dumped a load in the front of them.

He walked over and said, these underwear are kind of uncomfortable, mom, they go up my bum in the back...like those weird ones you wear.

He did a catwalk spin for me to show the offending bum creepers and that is when I noticed he had them on backwards.

I did take pictures.  But I also promised him that I wouldn't show anyone. 

So for now, I will just put them in the "future blackmail" file I have stored on my hard drive.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

I also have an extra issue of the May/June Simple Scrapbooks magazine up for grabs. 

Simple Scrapbooks

It's kind of an exciting one for me, I was assigned all the bucket openers for this issue.  And if you're like me and have no idea what "bucket openers" means (I just learned it a couple of months ago) it means I was assigned to do the layouts for the opening page of each section of the magazine. 

So, if anyone can tell me how boys are able to wear out their underwear in under 6 months, this issue is all yours.

Still Crazy

I have been tagged by the lovely Elizabeth (sorry I missed this, E.)

The rules: Link to your tagger and post these 3 rules on your blog.

• Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
• Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
• Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

I'm not sure how to pick just 7 weird things, but I'll give it a shot.

1. Sometimes when I'm driving and singing in the car, when I pull up to a stoplight I try to sing with my mouth closed so people can't tell I'm singing, this makes me laugh, so I'm sure I look crazier sitting in a car by myself laughing.  With my mouth closed.

2. We don't have a lock on our bathroom door so when I have a shower I lock our bedroom door.  Mostly because a few weeks ago the youngest boy hid in the closet and jumped out and yelled "raaaaaaaaah" at me when I came out of the bathroom.  The youngest boy is lucky he is a fast runner.

3. I have to read before I go to sleep at night.  No matter how tired I am. This vexes Gorgeous George to great ends as he's a "lights out, go to sleep" kind of guy.  He keeps threatening to sleep downstairs, but I don't really believe him.

4. I count the stairs in our house every time I go down them.  Even though I know exactly how many there are. I can't help it.

5. I can still (pretty much) do the splits.  It's getting harder and harder every year though.  Maybe I should look into yoga or something.

6. I'm going river rafting this summer.  For those of you who don't know me, I am voting myself "The One Most Likely to End up in the Drink and Because I have the Freakish Lack of Upper Body Won't Be Able to Haul Herself Out of the Drink".

7.  Today is the day I start my new work out regime of pushups.

I think most of my bloggy friends have already done this, I'm a little late to the party, so I will leave it in your hands.  If you are interested, consider yourself tagged and link back to me!

Dude looks like a lady

The Story of The Flaming Purple Fingernails

(Or How I Spent the Last Day of Spring Break)

by Lucas Overton

(as interpreted by his mother)

Once upon a time my super paranoid mom let me walk up to my friend Ella's house.

I loaded up my camo backpack with webkins, the video camera I got for Christmas and 4 quarters and off I went. 

I went through our backyard, up the hill, cut through Zach's yard and climbed the first long set of stairs.

It was about this time that I realized how much I missed my mom and I wished she had of come with me instead of just standing on the deck until she couldn't see me anymore.

My mom is awesome.

She is smart, beautiful and kind and even though she yells sometimes, it's usually for a good reason.

I thought to myself, "Self, maybe you should go back and give your mom a hug and tell her how much you appreciate her", and as I turned to head back, I saw Ella out of the corner of my eye standing at the top of the stairs waving to me.

So, not wanting to make Ella wait any longer (my momma raised me to be polite like that) I sent my mom some loving vibes and carried on.

In the cul de sac that Ella lives on there were a couple of older girls with a table set up.  They had a big sign in front stating that they were painting nails to raise money for the SPCA.

Now as much as I love money, I love animals more, so I marched over, plunked my dollar and requested flames on the fingers and skulls on the thumbs.

(They were only charging a quarter, but like I said, I really like animals.  And I also really like spending money.)

Unfortunately, all they had was girl colours. But I thought, "convention be damned" (well, I thought "darned" because I'm not allowed to say the other "d" word) and told them to break out the purple.

When I got home and told my mom this story, she laughed, as she often does when I tell her about the stuff I've been up to.

And then out came the camera.

The End.

   

Paranoid (the green day version)

Yesterday was a big day in our house.

No, I'm not talking about the large pile of poop we shoveled.

(Okay, it's "mulch" but it's high end mulch made out of human waste, so it's poop, people.  Only the very best for our flower beds).

I'm talking about Paranoia Mom letting the youngest boy walk to his friend's house. 

All. By. Himself.

Over hill.

Over dale.

(through the neighbour's yard and up two paths to Ella's house)

And THEN, PM let older boy and friend go down to the ravine to "hang out". 

Like I said, big day. 

I don't know why I'm so paranoid.

It might be the fact that I read way too many psychological thrillers about abduction and other icky happenings.

And watch the same sort of shows.

(Gorgeous George had to stage an intervention a few years ago when I was hooked on anything serial killer on A&E and then I would be up all night hearing people a) hiding in our attic (we didn't actually have an attic) or b) climbing in the kids' bedroom windows (which I had already checked on my pre-bedtime obsessive compulsive house check)

Maybe it's the times that Jeff Martin and I stole matches out of his mom's bedside table, when we were 6, and started the Terrace chapter of "The Fire Club" in the forest across the street.  (President: Jeff;  Official Extinguisher & Secretary: Me)

Or perhaps the time in grade 4 that Dominique Krause and I stole a pack of cigarettes from her parents and went over to Parkside School and smoked the whole thing and then I went home and barfed for about an hour.(sorry mom)

Or it could be any combination of those things.

Everyone made it back unabducted and relatively unscathed.

Lucas was sporting purple nailpolish when he arrived home, but I think that's fodder for another day.

Celebration.

Put on your best Kool & the Gang garb and get ready for a little celebration (you know that they are cool because they spell cool with a "k").

This is a little something I'd like to call:

The Top 10 Reasons why I think Stacy Julian Rocks

10. She introduced me to the concept of happy colours.

9. She is the reason I make minibooks.  And, boy, do I love me some minibooks.  And so do my boys (and they thank you too, Stacy).

8, She is also the reason I let go of the mind-numbing feeling of "having" to scrapbook chronologically.

7. Without her, Simple Scrapbooks would not be what it is, and I would not be a part of a team made up of totally unique, creative, wonderful and inspiring women.

6. This book.  They say don't judge a book by it's cover.  To that I say, "Phsaw!" (you heard me, I said Pshaw!).  You can totally judge this book by it's cover. And I love the cover.  A lot.

5.  I haven't have the pleasure of meeting Stacy in person (yet), but you can just FEEL her joie de vive (that's Joy of Life for any of you uneducated types who weren't forced to take french through grade 10).  She inspires me to get up off my procrastinating butt and get stuff DONE!

4. I first heard of the book "Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life" on her blog. (get it. read it. and read it again. this book has a place of honour in my bedside table beside all of Brian Andreas' books, Stuart McLean's Vinyl Cafe books and the Chronicles of Narnia).

3. Her blog name is Altogether Too Happy.  I want to surround myself with people that are altogether too happy. And that have brownies in their banners.

2. Though it saddens me that she won't be with Simple in an editorial role, I admire the fact that she is not complacent and is listening to her inner voice that tells her that she has other callings that need to be seen to. 

1. Thank you Stacy, for being a visionary in this industry, for helping make Simple Scrapbooks what it is today, for inspiring me and so many others in so many ways.

YOU ROCK!

Don't Fear the Reaper

Not a very February-y kind of title, huh? 

Don't worry, I kind of have a point (and I really didn't want to fail with the whole song-title-as-blog-title thing in my second entry of 2008).

Jake has been taking guitar lessons for about a year and a half.  His teacher is a 25-ish young guy who our son adores.  After the first few lessons and songs like "Yankee Doodle" assaulting our sensibilities for 20 minutes a day (And if you are rolling your eyes and thinking, psshaw, Yankee Doodle is a great song, imagine it on the electric guitar.  And then stop rolling your eyes at me.) we gently suggested to Jacob a few songs that maybe he could ask his teacher to school him in.

ie. Anything AC/DC, maybe a little Foo, perhaps some Wolfmother or Chili Peppers - you know, anything that doesn't make me feel like taking a knitting needle to my eardrum 5 minutes in to practice.

This made Jacob and his teacher both very happy. 

So the other day, Jacob comes home and tells us he learned a new song.

What is it, we asked. 

It's called "Don't Fear the Reaper" he informs us.

Jason and I looked at each other burst into laughter and yelled MORE COWBELL!!!

If you love Will Ferrell and you haven't seen this, check it out: 

more cowbell

(I tried really hard to teach myself how to put the video right in my blog post, but it was hard.  And I'm pretty lazy.)

Funny stuff.

Of course, I had to screen it to make sure there wasn't anything too bad in it and let the boys watch.  Jacob was on the floor laughing.  And I don't really think Lucas got it, but was doing that "I totally don't get the joke, but really want to be part of the hilarity" thing that I think we are all guilty of once in while.

In other news...

We are hosting a Superball Party today.

No you read that right.

One of our friends, whose name I will not reveal on this blog, had a doctor's appointment last week. I think he would have like to keep the nature of this visit private, but unfortunately for him, his daughter came here for a playdate, and the first thing out of her mouth when she was in the door was, "My daddy's going to see the doctor so we don't get any more babies in our house".

Nice.

So natually, Gorgeous George glommed onto that and decided that in honour of this huge milestone we would throw him a Superball Party this Sunday.

On the menu:

cheeseball

meatballs

sausage rolls

melon balls

assorted nuts

You get the picture.

And speaking of pictures, I don't think we'll be sharing a pictoral account of this particular gathering.

Happy Superball everyone!

Under Pressure...

First of all, I'm hosting the Simple Studio blog at Simple Scrapbooks this month here:

http://www.simplescrapbooksmag.com/studio/blog/index.ihtml

(my nerves are wracked

what if no one posts?

what if I write entries that are far too long (see first entry) and boring?

what if the writers never settle and I am doomed to watch reruns of Seinfeld over and over and over....

okay, well, I already do that last one, but the rest of my worries are still valid.)

Secondly, about 97.3% of the times I write a blog entry, the first thing that pops into my head for "title" is a song reference.  So I'm going to see if I can carry that out for the rest of 2008. 

I think I shall add that to my very short list of resolutions.

(I like to aim low to ensure success).

Hope to see you at the Simple Scrapbooks site!

Christmas Eve Eve

The 23rd of December.

Festivus.

The holiday for the rest of us.

So raise the aluminum pole, ready your list of the Airing of Grievances (I have quite a few as you may imagine) and stay tuned for the Feats of Strength.

I think I have a shot at victory this year. 

Jason is out quadding, Lucas is sick and Jacob...well, you've seen the Gun Show.

There is a slight chance he could take me out with one of those elbows, but though I may look slow and sluggish, I think I could take him down first.

I am surprisingly ready for Christmas this year.

Don't get me wrong, I did leave everything until the last minute, as usual, but somehow I left it to exactly the right last minute, and every store, post office and coffee shop I happened through was not busy.

Which, sadly, encourages me to keep up my procrastinating ways.

I will leave you with a photo that I took of the boys the other day when we had our first big dump of snow.

They spent hours outside building a couple of forts which had complex names with words like "federation" and "colony" peppered throughout.  I glazed over after the first 15 minutes of explanation, but I did manage to get this cute picture of them without even having to threaten or cajole. 

Well, I might have cajoled a tad.