Forgive My Life

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.

Having 4 boys and 1 girl = lots of “You must be happy that you got your girl!” or “Your poor daughter will never get a boyfriend with all of those brothers!”.

Yes, having a girl is nice but having 4 boys is also nice… they are not less because I have a girl. Anya is more than capable of taking care of herself as well…she definitely does not need brothers for that.

She’s only 4 but she makes me fear the teenage years. A lot.

I was thrilled to have the chance to take pictures of my girlfriend’s newborn and even more excited because I had someone to watch the kids while I did it. For some stupid reason, at the last minute, I decided to bring Anya along. She would be my photography assistant…a task that even SHE was excited about! We snuck away in my Mom’s vehicle, which was parked behind mine.

On the way, we stopped at our favourite coffee bus and Anya immediately lined up the chocolate muffins. Beside the chocolate muffins were cake pops with sprinkles and Anya demanded that she get a chocolate muffin WITH sprinkles. I couldn’t convince her that there were no freaking chocolate muffins with sprinkles so she pouted. Nothing else was a suitable alternative to the fucking sprinkles.

I ordered, paid, and still…she pouted. It was the moment that I started walking out of the bus that she decided to flip her shit…”I WANT A MUFFIN!”. She absolutely refused to carry her hot chocolate so I ended up holding 2 coffees and her hot chocolate; the hot chocolate set precariously on top of the coffees and tucked under my chin while I struggled to find my keys.

By the time we reached the vehicle, she was in full out tantrum mode; nearly hyperventilating between muffin pleas.

Still struggling with the tower of scalding hot liquids, I set the hot chocolate on the front seat while I attempted to re-arrange the console to fit the coffees. And it happened…the cup fell over. You have got to be fucking kidding me… Anya was still screaming about the damn muffin, hot liquid was pouring all over the seat, and I could feel my brain on the verge of exploding.

What I wouldn’t give to leave my still screaming daughter in the middle of the parking lot while I peeled out of there…!! Instead, I got her in the vehicle, handed her the hot chocolate, and told her to stop crying so that I could clean up the mess.

By the time we got to my friend’s house, she was calm again. Inside, she was happy. And I am wondering how I will ever survive her teen years when she has hormonal teenage outbursts like that on a daily basis.

Billy is a savvy Kijiji shopper. He can negotiate, wheel & deal, swap, trade, sell, buy, … it’s genius. It also annoys the fuck out of me because he is on Kijiji as often as I am on Facebook….which is a lot…. We never need anything, though, so I don’t even understand why he’s on it! And sometimes things are going on around him but he’s completely in the Kijiji-zone so he’s oblivious!

Me: “Billy, someone is crying.”

Billy: “Yep, just a sec.”

Me: “I swear, if you are on Kijiji I am going to hit you!”

Billy: “I’m going!”

It would be embarrassing to admit how often this happens (every single day) but maybe…just MAYBE…there is a part of me that is jealous of his Kijiji skillz.

I have no Kijiji skills. I can’t wheel & deal. I get the people who offer me half of my asking price or ask me to meet them across the city during the baby’s naptime. I kind of hate Kijiji!

But, since we are thinking about moving the boys into the basement bedroom, I decided to see if I could find a couple of chairs for them. I found the exact chair (from Ikea) that I was looking for and the person had 2 of them!! $30 each. I offered $50 for both.

Now, according to Billy, my mistake was offering them too much. I got an e-mail back with a counter offer…. she asked to meet halfway so $60 for both.

I’m not a mathematician or anything but…. $30 plus $30 = $60. Right? WTF?? I haven’t even been able to reply back because I’m torn between sending an extremely sarcastic response or declining because this person is obviously the exact fucking type of person I get sucked into dealing with. I know that if I go through with it, I will swear off Kijiji for another year.

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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?

I’ve suggested coconut oil to a few people to help them or their kids keep things moving. In the digestive area. Like..if you haven’t pooped… Logan has had to take coconut oil a few times and it takes only a couple of hours to do its job. Even though I suggest it, I have never actually tried it myself.

When I told my sister to give her youngest coconut oil mixed with cocoa powder and maple syrup, I couldn’t have guessed that it would taste so good! Like cake icing!

I had skipped breakfast and after lunch I felt like having a snack so I whipped up a bowl of chocolate coconut oil, peeled myself a banana, and went to town.

I licked the bowl clean, started in on the dishes and then it hit me. Stomach pain and bad noises. I must have had a bit of a panicked look on my face because Billy asked what was wrong and all I could say was “Ohhh..I did a bad, bad thing…”

Oh God…I was afraid to even fart! And then I didn’t know if I was going to puke so I locked myself in the bathroom just in case. 2 out of 5 kids interrupted me during my deep thoughts before I succumbed to the idea that I might be dying and I would rather die in my own bed.

I laid in bed for a while; curled up in the fetal position.

I really have no one to blame for this but myself and that pisses me off.

I like to greet Monday mornings with my usual gusto and enthusiasm. It’s probably a little less ‘gust the ono and enthusiasm’, a little more ‘please don’t let this day go to the shitter before I am fully awake’.

Mondays are the only day that I absolutely have to shower on and I desperately need the kids to stay in bed while I’m doing this. Wylder greeted me while I was drying off…crying. From in his kennel, the dog was yipping. And then I realized that it’s 6:15am and my day will not go well.

I was up way too late trying to read about it and I realized that reading about protein SUCKS compared to consuming it. (amino acids = big old snooze fest. Big ass steak = PARTY!!!)

My plan was to take a half hour to work more on the protein chapter of my book…plan schman!! The dog had puked in his bed and when I let him outside, he peed all over the step in front of the door. Then he decided to torment the still sleeping kids by hopping into their beds! I was alerted to this by Anya screaming… she is doing well with her fear of dogs but nothing like a good jolt to the heart when a dog jumps on you in your sleep.

I managed to sneak online for 3 minutes and there was a super great quote on my friend’s Facebook wall: “My children are not going to be a part of today’s problems, they will be part of the solution.” It totally motivated me to get my kids to be part of the solution but they were unwilling to make me breakfast. They also didn’t want to hear about all of the cool things I learned about the digestive tract.

As if…farting at the table is appropriate for an 11 year old but apparently it’s inappropriate table talk when I discuss the length of the large intestine or how fermenting sugars in the small intestine is what causes the farting. Phhft.

After shoving the 3 boys out of the vehicle (tuck and roll, boys!!!), I treated myself to a coffee and bought the wee sprouts an iced hot chocolate (that’s just code for chocolate milk…go figure). Then I came home to something that I totally expected… someone finds my blog offensive. Something like that would have totally gotten me down before….now it just gives me more reason to keep blogging.

Here’s the thing…this is MY blog, MY life, and that fancy X in the corner gives you the freedom to not read it anytime you wish. 😉 Swears may not be necessary but I really don’t give a shit.

Sometimes my days can start completely shitty and turn out amazing. I had a great chat with Sabrina (from Fetch Haus), coffee with my husband, a walk with the dog, and managed to get in quite a bit of reading time! Take THAT Monday!!

My littlest Picasso loves sprucing up otherwise boring areas of the house…like the walls, or the cupboards, or my purse….

I’m on the verge of throwing out every pen, pencil, crayon, marker, and eyeliner because this shit is nuts. I have bought stock in Mr. Clean because I am buying Magic Erasers at fucking Costco.

At this point I should mention that Magic Eraser will strip the finish off a table before it will actually take the Sharpie off. Oh, it will also strip paint off walls before the crayon is completely removed. I have a love hate thing going on with Magic Erasers.

I should also mention that I dislike all things arts and crafts. I would love to give my kids the experience of finger painting, rolling play dough, gluing, and cutting but it’s the epic disaster they leave behind that has me wishing I had alcohol in the house!

Little Picasso loves colouring and I do encourage him to colour on paper. He turned my very important list into the prettiest little colouring ever and I could hardly be upset because he had kept the crayon on the paper only!

But Little Picasso enjoys snapping crayons. The little bits usually end up on the floor and Furry Hoover likes anything on the floor.

Poor yellow crayon…

I shoo’ed the dog outside and picked up bits of yellow from the rug.

Little Picasso took the dog’s enthusiasm for the yellow crayon as a sign that these suckers tasted good and decided to nom on blue crayon. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught him eating inedible things. He has an affinity for Anya’s sparkly lip gloss.

What goes in, must go out; The 2 creatures, whose poop I have to clean up, shit rainbows and sparkles.

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