Forgive My Life

Archive for the ‘Random’ Category

I have no excuse for my lack of blogging…except the 5 kids, the dog, the husband, the house, the purging, and the studying. There are about a zillion FML moments that I have let go without blogging. I am barely able to open the computer, let alone form that shit into sentences and blog posts.

Yesterday I realized that Murphy’s Law has a completely separate set of rules when it comes to motherhood. Here’s a compilation of a few Murphy’s Laws of Motherhood:

-Mom will use the bathroom immediately after the one that pees on the seat. Every time.

-Mom will use the energy of 100 men to clean all the things while the kids destroy it all.

-Mom will discover that we are out of toilet paper…while using the bathroom.

-Mom will just sit down to a cup of hot coffee when the shit hits the fan (figuratively AND literally).

-Mom will just lay down for a nap when all of the neighbourhood kids decide to converge upon the house…especially when the kids are not home.

-Mom will spend hours creating a delicious meal…only to have to eat it cold.

-Mom will make sure the kids have everything they need (and more) to leave the house…and then forget to put on a bra.

-Mom will remember everyone’s birth date, health care #, bank account/credit card #, password, doctor’s phone #,…. and forget how old she is/her cell number/her middle name/that damned bra.

Please feel free to add your own Murphy’s Laws of Motherhood to the list!

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I’ve had a startling realization this morning…. this is my new normal. This chaos and weird shit that happens…. this is my NORMAL! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, really.

Dog barks at 6:20 so I get up, thinking that he needs to do business. He doesn’t need to do business…his focus is chasing after me and licking my bare legs. I don’t know why having the dog lick my legs grosses me out so much but I want to never wear shorts again.

I had planned to make the kids pumpkin bake this week but we ended up a day late so I made it this morning. There is a reason I usually bake it the night before and that is because it takes forever to bake! I turned the oven on and got everything mixed together before I realized that there was a very bright orange in the oven.

Oh yeah…whatever spilled in the bottom of the oven was on fire. There was a moment right before the panic struck that I was envisioning trying to get 5 sleeping kids and all of my important shit out of the house before it burned to the ground.

The chunk on fire was probably the size of a grape so I figured I could probably grasp it with the barbecue tongs. I didn’t really expect to have the chunk crumble as I picked it up…spreading the flaming coals all over the bottom of the oven. Shit.

I had to actually crush the bits of charcoal food remnants with a flipper and scrape them out of the oven; all the while trying not to burn my hand.

This is probably a sign that I need to run the self clean cycle on the oven. I should also figure out how to use the fire extinguisher.

Just a random mention..no big deal..but the dog totally tried to trip me while I hauled the laundry basket down the stairs. I’m pretty sure it was payback for eating bacon in front of him. Or maybe the barking at 6:20 was all part of his master plan to off me today.

I know I am not the only person who googles symptoms and then freaks out when Dr. Google tells me I have an inoperable brain tumour or MS.

That shit happens way too often… I get a headache for 3 days, I have a ringing in my ears, my left foot goes numb, …. And I know better than to Google my symptoms but I still do it! Glutton for punishment?

Probably worse than my numerous consultations with Dr. Google is the fact that I have a bit of a fear of doctors. Well, not really a fear of doctors but more an intense hatred for being spoken to like I’m a stupid child that just needs to be shut up with anti-depressants.

Maybe more alarming than Dr. Google is the fact that I am now the proud owner of a wealth of information in the form of textbooks. Several times in the first couple of chapters, I would pause and think “Wow…I need more _____. And less _____. And maybe that’s what’s wrong with me!”. Billy, at one point, asked if I was planning on self diagnosing for the next 2 years. Ummm….yeah! And I’m going to diagnose the hell out of you, too! Ha!

My latest self diagnosis? Mercury poisoning. I have a lot of the symptoms. Fatigue, tingling/numbness in my face, hands, and feet, emotional instability, … And I’m currently analyzing my urine to see if it has a change in odor.

More like is the fact that I need to sleep more and stop eating whatever food I’m having a reaction too. But it’s impressive how many diseases overlap symptoms! Here’s the ultimate lesson: never, ever Google what could be causing your fatigue because Dr. Google will respond “You gonna die, bitch!”. He’s an asshole like that.

My husband has a lot of pride in the fact that he grew up a country kid. When, recently, he was called ‘city folk’, he was crushed. I, on the other hand, found it fucking hilarious! This is the guy that has grabbed an electric fence to create a surge chain. He rode car hoods behind vehicles in the winter. He has killed various types of animals. He is a typical country kid… Unfortunately, after 13 years out of the country, he’s a little more city.

Our own kids have known nothing but city life and it shows..much to Billy’s dismay. When Adam was 4, he spotted a dog running in the field of a local farm. He said “Hey, that dog is walking itself!”.

Small indicators that our kids were city came out over the years. Probably the most shameful, for Billy, was our trip up to the mountains. We pulled up to the cabin and there were deer grazing on the hill. Gavin leaped out of the vehicle and called “Hey, MOOSE!!! Come here moose!”.

Even Wylder got in on the action.. .”Deeeeee-errrrr. Come here puppy!!”.

And it got worse as we were going into the cabin. A squirrel was skittering around the trees and Gavin remarked “Look at the mouses!!”. Oh snap… lol This kid is so city that it hurts.

That was the day that Billy swore he would take the kids into nature more.

I, on the other hand, am perfectly content being city.

Ever get the feeling that you are one stack of boxes away from being a hoarder? No? Okay, maybe that’s just me.

I consider us to be collectors but I know that that’s what hoarders tell themselves to feel better about the 8 foot high mounds of garbage in every room. No, my house isn’t that bad but I can go from loving my house to feeling like a camera crew is going to burst in at any moment.

We are 7 people in a 1300 square foot house and we have a lot of stuff. Stuff…stuff….stuff…. it’s everywhere!

For a while now, I have been getting frustrated with the amount of stuff and the lack of places to put it. If I yell at the kids to put away their stuff, sometimes they say that they don’t know where it goes. “I don’t care where it goes, just get it out of here!!”. Yes, I am helpful but I honestly don’t know where the fuck to put their shit either!

I have so many super organization ideas going on in the house but I am also failing in many areas. There was the day that I tried to find a spice in the pantry and it was just so overflowing with stuff on the floor that I flipped the fuck out. “If I have to go into the pantry ONE more time and trip on shit while trying to find the fucking cumin, I am going to lose my mind!!!!!” And yet…I did it again the very next day.

Maybe the most epic disaster of all lies in one of the kids’ rooms…. Gavin has 3 gigantic bins of Legos and after a day at Brick Builders, I decided that it was time to organize them! Thank you, Pinterest, for giving me the idea that we should sort according to colour! Great idea…in theory…. But the person who did this for their child did not have some 80 million pieces of Lego to sort through! My fingers were so fucking sore from trying to pull those little pieces of Lego apart so that they could go into their appropriate bin.

We only ever got through a skiff of Legos at the top of one of the bins before a) we realized that we didn’t have enough containers, b) my hands/back/brain were too sore, and c) I realized it was fucking useless to organize according to colour because next week they will all be mixed up again anyway. See…this is why I don’t put a lot of work into things! The kids are bound to destroy any effort I put in and that depresses me. (craft cupboard, toy bins, dressers, …. )

My friend, Dorene, posted this picture. VERY appropriate!

The day that my books showed up and, in my panicked state, I sent out a tweet looking for an organizer. MINUTES later, I had a response and a phone call later that evening from Keri….organization superhero! That girl worked her mind power over the phone and I later found myself cleaning the pantry.

She came to check the place out (without a camera crew!!) and assured me that it’s not the epic clusterfuck that I thought it was. I’m still standing behind my opinion that the boys’ rooms are epic clusterfucks but I’m filing that under “NOT MY PROBLEM!”.

During Keri’s tour around the house, Anya whispered to me “When is that girl going to clean my room?”. ROFL Yeah, ummmm…. she’s not. Sorry about your luck, girly, but you need to clean your OWN room!

Since I’m safe, for now, from A&E showing up to document my dramatic clean up, I am excited to see what Keri puts together for us. I wonder if one of her superhero skills is to make everything organized with the blink of an eye?

Straight out of high school, I got married and went on to have 5 kids in 9 years. In junior high I wanted to be an author. In high school I wanted to be a marine biologist. After Logan was born I wanted to be a pharmacy technician. After Adam was born I wanted to be a nurse. After Gavin was born I wanted to do something related to food. I would get these great ideas, put together a 5 year plan, and BAM…pregnant again.

My 5 year plan got reset twice but I knew I would be the cause of many people’s guilt because I would sell gluttonous deliciousness. I baked for every one of my kids’ teachers for holidays…this might explain why they all LOOOOOVED my kids.

I’ve spent the last year fully immersed in nutrition and how good food heals (but cupcakes still taste fucking awesome).

When my homeopathic doctor (stfu if you have a problem with me seeing a homeopath) told me to focus on healing instead of trying to get the sexy body I’ve always longed for by being brutalized at the gym, I was like “Shit…now what am I going to do???”

So I decided to get an education. Finally. I’m all about holistic medicine and healing; natural nutrition couldn’t have been a better choice.

I wish I had this curriculum waiting for me when I came home from that appointment because I was so driven (focused? Hyper fixated?) on doing it that I probably would have had it done in a month. Instead, I researched and waited for the ‘right time’ to register. By ‘right time’ I mean the moment our income tax return came in.

This school doesn’t fuck around!! I got a notice that I was approved and my books would ship May 3rd. Dude in brown showed up May 4th with a box for me. He said it was heavy…like I would take it out of his arms…. I made him put it in my porch but had I known how heavy it was, buddy would have been bringing it into my dining room!

It looks all innocent and shit but I need to do some push ups before I get something this heavy plopped into my house again! When I finally stopped panting from pushing it the 5 feet into the entrance, I tore into the box. Books excite me.

I carted the books to the table and started figuring out what I was supposed to do with it all. My plan was to consume copious amounts of coffee while breezing through Module 1. The easy module. I could coast through Module 2 as well because Module 3 is where I needed to focus. Biochem.

Pulling out the books I needed for Module 1 when I realized that the 1000 page monster of a fucking book that I would need to tape my eyes open for was part of the reading requirements. Sweet…..baby…..Jesus…. Then I had a mild panic attack.

There it is….Module 1 in all of it’s taunting glory. They should really make a note of this in the cute brochure they send out with the course outline.

Module 1: You think this will be easy? Think again, dumbass!

Module 2: Oh yeah… still not easy. HA HA HA!

Module 3: Remember all of those times you sleep through science class?? Bet you’re regretting THAT now!

Module 4: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!

Focus, Tara. I will NEVER enjoy reading again but that’s okay. Shit, these books are all too big to even bring in the tub with me! And if I do, surely I will drown when I fall asleep reading them.  How long can a person actually survive on nothing more than coffee?

Day 1 of the longest book I have ever opened….17 pages read.

A couple of years ago, Adam came home from school with a little evergreen tree. This is something that happens on Arbour Day for 1st graders and I think it’s kind of ridiculous. We end up having to find some place to plant these things and they almost always die.

I say almost always but the reality is…they always die. My ability to keep small children alive is remarkable but that talent is exclusive of anything alive and green.

Adam’s little tree ended up in the spot in our yard where a poplar tree once stood. For the record, I didn’t kill it; it was taken out in the great storm of ’06. Now, the stump from this poplar tree still resided near the little evergreen and multiple attempts to get rid of it had failed. When it became a hot spot for ants, Billy decided to ‘deal with it’.

Dealing with it entailed dumping gas on the stump and lighting it on fire. The close proximity of the little evergreen tree meant that the poor thing didn’t even stand a chance. It was nothing more than a charred stick by the time the flames died down.

As the snow melted this Spring, something amazing happened….the little evergreen was green again! It also happened to be in the location that I had staked out as the new garden. Shit. This tree had been burned and it came back to life…that’s perseverance!

Rory, in all of his puppy teething glory, as decided to go Round 2 with the little tree. A game of tug of war has left the poor thing stripped of bark in its midsection.

Rest in peace, little tree… I guess I can plan out the garden now. I should also plan to surround it with a 4 foot high electric fence.

Since all bad things revolve around my attempts to shower, I don’t know why today would be any different. Wylder found a tube of Anya’s lip gloss and painted the hallway floor with it. Ho hum.

I started running the shower when Wylder came into the bathroom…stark naked. Why hasn’t someone created a diaper that toddlers can’t take off yet??? Anya came behind him with the freshly removed diaper… and it was obvious that at one point it contained poop. Fuck. Now I would have to search the entire upstairs (in the buff) to find the missing poop.

Since the only room he could get into was Anya’s, my search was fast, but I discovered no poop. It may be one of those unsolvable mysteries…like UFOs, big foot, and the abominable snowman.


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