I've been trying to avoid cursing as it seems like the polite thing to do. But. But! Shit and fucking fuck! It is still raining here!

We have had a few days without rain here and there. I think we have actually had two days without rain since november. November!

The past few days however have been freakishly monsoon like. Torrential wind and rain. My house is surrounded by two and three hundred foot cedars - hundreds of them. Plus, a bunch of equally tall birch and fir trees, several of which are dead. Dead and ready to fall. The other night as i listened to the wind howl i seriously considered writing a "just in case you never hear from me again" post.

Today the wind stepped it up a notch and the power has gone out three times, the last one for five hours. We had to eat dinner at mcdonalds! So gross. The occasional happy meal lunch i can handle. But dinner. For me. No way.

The power is probably going to go out again any moment. Wish us luck as we all hunker down together in one freezing, but smelly, room in our freezing, but clean, house.

I feel obliged to start this with i'm tired. Real tired. We are fighting colds and flu's and backaches and asthma. The usual suspects.

Parker has been sleeping a little better. He goes to sleep pretty easily most nights. Except on days when he naps because we have reached the black hole of not quite needing a nap but I WILL GET REALLY GRUMPY AND LOUD AROUND 4:30 AND IT WILL LAST UNTIL BEDTIME but then i will go to sleep really freakishly easily.

He's even *knock wood* been sleeping from the time he goes down until around midnight. Which means i get 3 or more hours of uninterrupted time alone. So! You'll be seeing a lot more of me in all your comment sections and i am a lame commenter so watch out! Then, well, he wakes up 3 or 4 more times for *ahem* the booby. So, tired. Always with the tired. Not to mention that i have FOUR kids. That in itself is exhausting. Two kids are exhausting too. I think this whole motherhood thing is wrinkle causing exhausting no matter how many of the little things you have.

So! I have a very cunning plan! Aha! In two weeks we are splitting the kids up and having a girls weekend and a boys weekend. I will be traveling to vancouver with the girls for two nights and, if all goes according to plan, that should be the end of operation booby drop.

Or not. Because i have spoken of these things MANY times before.

I remember when i got pregnant with parker. I remember, aside from my own terror at the thought of four kids, that we had to hold off on telling our families. Being pregnant AGAIN! was going to go over like a lead balloon. I had all four of my kids in a six year period. It was a lot. I don't think my body is ever going to fully recover.

Stretch marks aside i knew that my mom and my mother-in-law would be disappointed. Why? Well, i think shane's mom worried that it was too much, that i was somehow limiting her son's potential. Somehow three was okay, but four crossed the line.

We chose to have four kids. And at some point a few years earlier we chose to have two kids. Two was good. Perfect - a boy and a girl. Then? Well. Eliza. Who was perfectly perfect, but turned perfection into three kids. Three kids with insecure little toby in the middle. In the middle of TWO girls. We knew pretty quickly that three was not a magic number for us. And so four it was to be.

At exactly the same time i got pregnant with parker my sister and my sister-in-law got pregnant too. I knew that their second and first pregnancies were going to require all the energy my family had to muster. So, we decided to keep our fourth a surprise for as long as possible. We let the bomb drop when i was 22 weeks pregnant by sending ultrasound pics with "it's a boy" in the subject line of a family wide email.

The response was not good. Everybody was upset. Shane's mom couldn't even muster a congratulations just lots of "oh my goodness". His brother was the only one who said anything positive and i think that was along the lines of "holy shit! way to go!"

We had many "have you guys figured out how it happens yet?" Har har.

My mom wasn't disappointed, but i remember her saying "oh, now your in trouble! You're never going to get out of this now!"

I've thought about that a lot since then. Like whenever shane and i are really not getting along. Those nights when you lie in bed planning your escape. For me it sounds something like:

Shit, if i kick him out how the hell am i going to pay for everything? No more private school that's for sure. And speech therapy? How much money could i get? How am I going to get a job? Who will take care of the kids? What about eliza's allergies? AND! I will be single FOREVER because nobody wants a 35 year old woman with four kids! Damn, i better make-up with shane in the morning.

I think THAT is the core of what my mom was saying. I will never get out of this life. And that's okay. Good in fact. I don't think she meant what she said to hurt my feelings, although it might have a bit at the time. I think she was speaking to me as a mother of four kids herself. A mother who gave everything to her kids and when we all became adults was faced with reinventing herself or pass away her empty nest years as, well, an empty nester.

In becoming the new, childless woman i think my mom saw a bit of what she had missed all those years. She saw it and wanted me to have everything just like all mothers do - want the best for their kids.

Me summed up by snapshirts. Thanks to sweetney for the idea.

But, damn "amazing ass" - i sure know myself!

Apparently. Because today someone searched that on google and i won! I won! I'm a sucker and always the last to know.

I love blackbird's show and tell. Peeking into people's lives and houses, but in small, intimate and personal ways. It feels so warm and homey.

So, here's my computer - a place where i spend a lot of time and share my feelings with the world, my friends and my family. My eMac sits in the corner of the playroom, a room which the previous owners converted from a double garage. It's nice to have the extra space and it is the room where we spend the majority of our time as shane's giant-ass tv is in here. It is not, however, very pretty.

My computer was a gift last year for my 34th birthday from my brother-in-law. Wow. It still amazes me that he gave it to me. I suppose i have always, the last 15 years at least, been there for him. I have listened and offered advice as he changed from a fifteen year old boy into a warm and caring man. He lived with us for several years and we became a family. A house full of laughter and joy and anger and frustration. I have the relationship with him that i wish i had with my brothers.

So, i love my computer. I love it because it reminds me that someone other than shane and the kids cares about me.

The computer is also the only place where i have any sort of desk space. As i move along in this motherhood thing i realize it is like a job. A job in that there are lots of papers to shuffle on and off my desk.

This is also the place where the kids play computer games and shane records all his music, hence the keyboard and mike stand. It's the family computer.

I also have an iBook, but it is presently asleep upstairs with Parker. I should add that i am a spoiled girl. My iBook was a gift from my dad. It's a little slow and clunky, but i love it too.

~ when the sun blasts through your windows for the first time in months you will realize that your house is not nearly as clean as you thought. Plus, Magic Erasers wreck paint.

~ via google, lots of people are wondering where stephen harpers kids go to school - SCARY.

~ if you get wax from a home-waxing kit on the counter it is very hard to get off.

~ if you withhold sex as punishment - everybody suffers.

It's funny how accomplishing something small can make you feel so darn happy. The standards i set for myself are pretty low now. Today! I washed and made all six beds in the house. All in the same day. Amazing. Normally the cycle of laundry never really finishes as i always end up going to bed with a load still in the wash and another in the dryer.

Really, my life is taken over with un-bloggingly boring school stuff.

Back to my point. The thing that pisses me off the most in my life as a mother right now is the incredible lack of respect. Not by the world in general because that is always there and there is shit all i can do about that. I'm pissed off at shane. When i am sick or depressed or just in a rut - there is no relief (other than hours of sesame street) - i just soldier on. Do what i have to do.

My husband, and i assume others, feels entitled to wallow in whatever despair hits him. Screw everyone else he is bummed out and needs to ignore the rest of us. I know, i should stand up for myself. I've tried that. You know who suffers? The kids. They get the grumpy-ass, impatient, yelling dad. I won't do that.

So, an essay in photos of what he did today:

At 3:00 he came home, proclaimed himself depressed and flaked out on the couch.

So, I made all the beds:

Note the ELMO bed that santa brought parker. Everybody but parker sleeps in that bed.

Then i raced around playing with the kids, feeding the chickens - the usual. And began making dinner:

In between i played on the computer a bit:

While i did that he snuck off the couch and ate the first piece of the lemon cake i made for dessert which resulted in lots of "hey! who ate the cake. Can I have some?" And many tears.

I went back to dinner and setting the table. While i did this parker followed me around begging me to play with him and made these messes:

Eventually, i turned the TV on so that i could get dinner on the table:

I hate the shows that tristan picks. But, she is an eight year old with remote control savvy.

Eventually he got up to eat with us. After which he promptly warmed his spot on the sofa back up. I got the kids ready for bed. Why do they make such a mess with toothpaste?

At some point i screamed downstairs "SHANE GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND GET THE KIDS TO BED!" I put parker down, had a little snooze myself and ended my day looking a little weary.

And with that. Goodnight.

xxoo

In an effort to limit my driving time i am attempting to teach lucy to drive.

So, i've seen this commercial for new and improved Wonder Bread! Now with fibre, but tastes just like the original.

When i was growing up Wonder Bread was up there with child abuse in terms of big offences for my mom. In my family mom made homemade bread - white and brown (no such thing as whole wheat), she lovingly filled her shelves with homemade jam and baked us dessert from scratch EVERY NIGHT. Plus, she had four kids too. Amazing. Wonder Bread was expensive and bad for you!

Now, in my ever-growing list of doing things i swore i'd never do, i'm considering trying this yeasty concoction that promises healthy benefits for my children. My kids won't eat whole wheat, half wheat or any wheat - just white. It all started when Eliza had a severe allergy to dairy and white bread, one particular brand, was all i could find that was suitable for her. Since then it's been a slippery non-nutritional slide to yogurt tubes, cheese sticks and white bread sandwiches in the lunch boxes.

The Wonder Bread? It entices me with it's commercial goodness. I have fond memories of a field trip to the Wonder Bread factory in grade 4. We each were given a free loaf on the way out. I remember gleefully squeezing each piece into a little ball and eating the entire loaf on the playground because i knew if i took it home it would be confiscated.

You know, i want to start this by saying how hard it is to be a mom. I know that's so boring, so yesterday. Now we need to move beyond the doldrums of daily life and find something interesting to say! Dammit!

The thing of it is, that's the truth. And sometimes the truth is hard to take. Mommyblogger or not. I dare you to find any mother that says this job is easy.

Granted, most of the women that find the time to sit down at the computer and write out the stories - those are not the moms that are out there being happy. We are the mothers who are shy, or depressed, or lonely or have the hutzpah to actually speak the truth.

No matter how much i love my kids, i have so many days that running away seems like the easier option. For those of you that have come face to face with depression you know how horrifying the prospect of ever facing that again is.

And so, we do what we have to do. To stay happy. To stay on this side of sadness.

What the hell? *shrug your shoulders with me* One of those days.

But, what i wanted to say is that's why i love YOU! I like that you are there, sharing with me, understanding some of the moments. It makes me feel better.

Oh! Totally gaining the winter 10! That helps my mood. Nothing worse than too tight cords.

I'm sitting here listening to Stephen Harper make his acceptance speech. Our new prime minister. It's so sad and scary. I'm pissed off that paul martin got us into this mess. I'm especially pissed off that my husband came home and told me he had voted conservative.

I couldn't believe it. We have never seen eye to eye on politics. Except in university. He fooled me into thinking he was a tender hearted boy. I feel like such a sucker on that one.

But, stephen harper? canada - tonight you suck.

With respectful apologies to all of you that i love that voted conservative - except shane - he's going to pay when he least expects it and in very sneaky ways.

On sunday night a family from the school invited our family for dinner. The thing about visiting other peoples houses, especially when they have fewer kids than us, is that their houses are always so damn nice. I always find myself looking around at the zen appeal. Everything in it's place - a place for everything. No stuff. No, actually, lots of nice stuff - no crap. Our decorating theme consists of toys, billions of varieties of footwear and various flotsam and jetsom that falls off the dogs as they wander to and fro. Chaos rules every aspect of my life.

I have recently given up on the homemaking part of my job description. It's too freakin hard. Oh, i clean and tidy and cook and play playdoh and do mountains of laundry every week. I've just given up on having a tidy house for more than a few moments. Those moments usually happen when family is visiting. They never happen when i leave the house for a few hours and hope to return to homemaking nirvana. Nope. It's always much worse at those times.

Anyway, we went to the perfectly pretty and cute house for dinner. I'm fairly certain that my children broke every rule in that house. They climbed on the furniture, ran in the house, screamed and - hold your breath - took out more than one toy at a time. I figure we are very good birth control for the houses we visit.

At one point our hostess was telling me about one time when her kids went somewhere else and were allowed to climb on the furniture and how it was very hard for her to get them to NOT do that at home. I think somewhere in the middle of that conversation it occurred to her that it most probably was my house that allowed the heathen climbing on furniture behaviour. In fact, i think at that moment my kids were re-arranging her furniture into a fort.

Right off the bat they offered shane and i sour apple martinis! Awesome! Shane and i really had to tame ourselves because those things are like kool-aid and we could definately drink a lot of those. I didn't want to get all dudley moore again so i restrained myself. Plus, we don't want to be *that* family. The one you have to buy lots of booze for.

The dinner was lovely. The kids were well behaved, except the fort thing. But, hey, they didn't break anything and they ate all their dinner. We left happy, feeling like bumpkins and with leftovers for lunch today! Perfect.

I've been tagged to do that weird habits meme thing. I am putting my foot down on this one because i am not weird in any way, or is that not, not weird?

Seriously.

I could tell you that i like to count how many steps it takes to do anything and get anywhere. Especially stairs. This one cracks shane up.

I like to pick the kids noses. They LOVE that.

I am very claustrophobic. I can't stand driving with all the windows closed or having anyone lie on top of me. This one makes shane very happy.

I hate talking on the phone. Call display rocks in that way. I have read other blogs talking about this, so i don't think it's weird at all.

When i was a kid i liked to put flour in my yogurt? I remember thinking that it made normal yogurt taste like the expensive yoplait kind. Now even i think this is weird.

VOTE! Today you lazy ass canadians! My mind is stuck on the election. I have little else to say.

I should start by saying that again "I love my mom!" That's what being a blabber pants will get you. Mom's reading blogs. The challenge is to soldier on and keep on keeping it real.

What am i talking about? I dunno *shrugging shoulders* i just want my mom to know that i love her.

So, anyways, the winter and the rain - it's killing me. I want to take pictures of all the flooded fields and homes, but i am worried about wrecking my beautiful camera that i love so much - but haven't paid a dime for yet. Thank-you future shop for your 1 year no-interest grace.

I'm having a hard time. So many lonely days ahead of me and behind me. How do you do it? How do you keep yourself even moderately on this side of depression in the lonely world of parenting young children? How many times can you play hide and seek and play-doh before you want to drive your minivan into on-coming traffic?

Really? I want to know.

I have noticed a rumbling in the air regarding attendance at BlogHer. In summary some women don't want to go because it's a popularity contest or some similar reason.

I beg to differ! Big surprise. After the conference last year there was a hell of a lot of posting and pictures by many bloggers recapping the wonderful time they had at the conference. It did get a little sickeningly sweet and sappy. It didn't make me mad, it made me a little bored and so i STOPPED reading the BlogHer posts. It seems like a simple idea.

I found the posts a little tedious and self-absorbed, not the bloggers themselves or the conference. I liked the idea though that all these women who had never met, but had shared a common thread through writing had a reason to get together and meet. Technology lessons aside.

I think that any conference that encourages women who are otherwise trapped inside their lives to get up and get together and learn, and network and bond is a good thing. Speaking as a stay-at-home mother i can't think of any other instance where i would be given the opportunity to travel to a conference. It's a moment that legitimizes what i do and will hopefully leave me with more than a hangover. I am going to meet people, of course, blogging is a social phenomenon - but, i am also going to learn cool technical things. Because the more control i have over every aspect of this little blog, the more power i have (at least in my mind and that's what counts) on the internet.

I understand the financial restraints - it's going to cost a chunk of change - no doubt. But, for our family this is probably my only chance to actually do anything for a long time. Sure, we can drive places, camp - all the usual activities. Travel on a plane though? Six of us? That is never going to happen. San Jose? That is a trip.

I suppose i'm just bummed that we can't all get along. Now, it's not just the other bloggers dogging on the 'mothers who blog' it's also the 'mothers who blog' pooping on each others party.

I'm so excited! My super-secret valentines gift for shane arrived, Behold the beauty:

Debbie handstitched these most awesomest pillowcases. She makes all kinds of cool things for babies, toddlers and hopeless punk rock romantics. Her line is 60 bugs. The website is coming soon via Supa Design Unit.

Go! Check it out! Now!

Despite the fun and the humour i see around me, some days are just hard. Hard in a way that shakes you. Makes you want to sleep all day and spend the night hiding in front of the computer with some wine. Ignoring all the possible outcomes of this crazy life.

I've been struggling with my feelings about having a child with disabilities. Toby is this wonderful, dynamic, loving little boy. He fills me with so much tender love and giant sadness. I know that he is fine. I also know that everybody always notices my other kids - she's so cute, so smart, so perfect, parker speaks so well, etc. - nobody says anything about toby. It's hard. It's hard for people when they can't understand a word he says and he's so darn active and LOUD. People just don't want to make the uncomfortable effort to know him. I understand, a little.

We actively searched out the school our kids go to. We make huge financial sacrifices to send them there. We send them there for toby. I was so fearful of other children teasing him because that's what kids do. I knew that at this little school i would have more control. I do. He still gets teased.

He's in grade 1 now and the focus of first grade is learning to read. His Apraxia is evolving and making it very difficult for him to learn the simple things like letters, sounds - phonological awareness. It just isn't happening. And he's humiliated. His teacher tells me every day of the tears and frustration. She's amazing and understanding. I just feel my heart swelling. A problem that i can't fix.

This is the hardest thing i've learned as a mom. I can't make everything okay. I can't protect them from all the frustration, anxiety and sadness.

It sucks.

So, i have this idea that i want to get in shape - tame the flab that is my belly and everything that comes between there and my knees. Plus, i want to wear a bikini to the poolside social at BlogHer - i kid. As a result i signed up for a yoga class at the community centre that started this evening.

Aside from the fact that just signing up caused me major anxiety - hello no children at my knees to help me avoid actually talking to people - it meant leaving the house in (shhhhh) exercise clothes.

As i was leaving parker yelled at the top of his lungs "NO YOGA!!!!!" I almost relented. I didn't.

As i pulled in to the parking lot i found a dark spot and contemplated hiding in the car for 90 minutes and then going home. I talked to myself for a few minutes then went in.

The first person i saw was my daughters teacher - weird. I grabbed my mat and rushed to sit down, carefully finding a spot with nobody on either side. As i got up my nerve to look around i realized i'd made a terrible mistake. I signed up for seniors yoga! Seriously, i was the youngest by at least 20 years. Hey! Maybe this is a good thing; i am the youngest and perhaps the thinnest and maybe even less stiff than some of the ladies. No! These were some limber seniors.

Then the best part - two teenage girls walked in, looked around and grabbed each others hands and sat down trembling. Class begins! Wait, one of the ladies is handi-capable in some way because she has to comment on every stretch or position that there is "an easier way!" "Wait! Look! If i bend my knees it's way easier to touch my toes!" Now, i think this woman is wrecking the OHM because everyone is looking a little pissed when she interrupts the mouth pipe music or whatever the hell it is. Except the teenagers, they are terrified and trying very hard not to look AT ANYBODY. But damn they are flexible, foot over the back of their heads flexible. I can't help staring at them. They are so cute and pretty and self-conscious.

But then, shit, i get a sight of myself in the mirror and not only am i totally un-flexible but my belly is hanging out of the top of my mom's LuluLemon hand-me-down yoga pants! Gross.

The end of class is the relaxation part. That is the hardest part for me. Whenever someone tells me to think about breathing i can't breathe. I start to hyper-ventilate.

Panic!

But wait, i feel really gassy. All the ass-in-the-air poses have let the gas do what it must. And it must rise. So the teacher is saying feel your bottom relax, your perineum, your thighs. And i am sitting beside my daughters teacher hyper-ventilating and SQUEEZING my ass so as to keep the gas in.

Finally, it was over.

I raced out and guess what i passed on the way out? The teenagers smoking? No! The seniors smoking!

So, it was sunny! Today! For a few short hours. We raced out the door to the beach. It was freezing, but sunny. The kids played and skipped rocks and the dogs screeched and hopped in and out of the very cold pacific ocean. The rain sort of cleared away yesterday and immediately the temperature dropped. Snow! Is next i'm sure.

A few months ago my kids (Toby) managed to erase all my digital photos prior to september 2003. Luckily, my dad had copied my whole library onto his computer, unbeknownst to me, but whatever! I've never been so glad to be ripped off.

To show you what could have been gone forever here is Eliza the cutest baby that ever lived in December 2001:

As it was payday today we went out for dinner tonight, which will surely screw me out of groceries three days before the next payday. But, oh well. I just couldn't face cooking, or cleaning or laundry all weekend. So today we needed something besides bowls of cereal for dinner.

On the way home we were talking about which kid did what when. Tristan rode a bike first, Toby weighed the most at birth, Eliza the least, Parker was the only one that crawled and so on. Every single thing we talked about became a competition for tristan. That means i was #2! Or i was the best, the first, most perfect! It amazes me how birth order really does help to define each of these kids. Tristan is the oldest and needs to be right and the best all the time. Otherwise she cries. Drives me crazy.

Tomorrow? School - yippee.

I have nothing for you. I attempted portraits today. It was an adventure. I can't get true blacks and whites without photoshop and i am too lazy for photoshop. Click on the photo to see the rest. Cause we are cute.

Please, please if you are considering in any remote way of voting conservative - heck if you're voting -please read this on rick mercer's blog.

You americans may have Jon Stewart, but we have Rick Mercer!

BlogJob - this word came about via a late night wine enhanced AIM chat with jenijen, my internet crush. We were speaking of messy things like periods, peri-menopause, chicken eggs, eggs of the womanly baby-making type, husbands and baby-making with husbands. Our mutual parallel lives and crush led us to the term BlogJob.

BoobJob - i may have jokingly said i would get a boob job because gwyneth was, but fear not those of you who email'd in concern. I have no plans. In fact, i once watched a good friend go through a breast reduction and the recovery? It was not pretty. And me? A wimp.

BlogHer - yes i am aware that everybody will be shy and anxious. But for me? It goes too a much deeper, freakout. And alcohol? Although a very nice social lubricant i have recently been compared to dudley moore when alcohol is involved in social situations.

Lastly! Death Cab for Cutie on Saturday Night Live! Tomorrow. We are psyched. Awesome!

I am such a loser.

Today, my dad bought me an airplane ticket to san jose on july 26 of this year. This summer! Do you know where i am going? I'm going to BlogHer!

I was so bummed out last summer when i didn't get to go. Really, my regret about not going lasted for months. But, i did meet Supa and Denise and many others because i DIDN'T go. We met in a BlogHer live chat. I made a promise to myself that i would go this year.

The problem is that i am an unmedicated social anxiety disaster. I know i will be sitting in my room full of panic and dread. And probably everyone will think i'm that weird canadian. I get that a lot. She's the snobby weird one. Because! When i do try to talk to people i'm a total idiot. Even when i try to comment on other blogs - total idiot. Awesome!

Still, i'm totally going - just to get away from my own private hell. I love my kids - a lot. But, i haven't been alone for more than 3 or 4 hours since June 5 1997.

That was the night before the night tristan was born. I was being induced earlier that day and it was a total disaster. So, i spent the night alone in the hospital - barfing from demerol. Romantic!

But, that was the last time. Aside from a whirlwind trip with parker and shane in 2004 to toronto for my sister-in-laws wedding, i've been no where, no place since our hawaii honeymoon in june 1995.

I suck.

I am so excited. I think i will spend the time sleeping. Also, i have a room - at the Hyatt! Two queen size beds - sharesies anyone? I don't snore, but i do fart - a lot.

Remember when your mother used to try and use kid-speak to endear you to her. "Hey jess! You look CHOICE today!"

I feel that way now, not with my kids, but among the bloggin peers. One could say bloggin peeps! But i can't say that. I am so uncomfortable using any new slang since the 90's.

Dude, bitch, bitches, sweet, wicked, huzzah (i don't even know what that means) - on and on.

I can't say those words. So, i stick with awesome. I have said Awesome! in so many comments on blogs and Flickr, it's frankly a little humiliating. But, awesome! it will stay.

I remember when i worked at the campus radio station at UVic as the advertising director the secretary / receptionist (when i looked it up she is recorded as a sales rep) at SubPop records did an interview with the new york times about grunge music and the grunge scene in seattle. She made up a bunch of grunge slang on the spot and the ny times printed them. It was awesome! You should really read the link above because it was, in all honesty, one of the funniest things to come out of the whole grunge thing.

So, back to my mom. She for shizzle read my blog. Or at least, somehow, found her way into my archives and read only the nasty bits. Now dude, i totally love my mom. She gave birth to me and saw fit to get me through the tough years, and there were many, and loved me when i came out the other side. A grown up with kids - huzzah!

As a result, henceforth, if you are reading this blog and you know me. You may read things that you don't like or wish you never knew. In that case you should walk away right now. Go! Stop reading. If you decide to stick around and stumble upon something you don't like, well, you may speak with me nicely. Or, better yet - never speak of it.

Now, the rest of you. You may stay. And comment bitches!

With apologies to SJ.

My boobies? They, actually have already dropped. Eight years straight of breastfeeding will do that. Shane has sympathy now though because, apparently, gwyneth paltrow wants a boob job now because of breastfeeding apple. Ha! If it's good enough for her, then hell ya! I get new boobs too!

But, i have been slowly weaning parker. He's hands-free all day - has been for quite some time. It's the nights. It's not really sleeping when he wakes me every hour is it? I'll just call it night-time cause it sure ain't sleep time. Anyway, when he wakes up i tell him "okay parker but just one minute." He says; "okay mommy, just one minute." And? It's actually working! One minute 47 times a night. Or thereabouts.

And tonight? Tonight i left before bedtime, the only more than a minute portion of the evening. When i came home he was asleep and then? Awake! I ran upstairs and lifted up my shirt at the ready and he said "i want some water." And i gave him some, out of his new elmo straw juice box thingy. But, that's not the best part.

The best part? He went right back to sleep. No booby!

Thank you very much.

Apparently, the all time record for rain falling on consecutive days for the south coast of vancouver island is 40 in 1956. We have had rain EVERY SINGLE DAY for the past 31 days. Since last year! I'm not talking about a little bit of rain. Where i am (in a valley) we have had monsoon like rain all day and all night for weeks. I now have a large creek running through my yard and a pond out back. I think my chickens are thinking of becoming ducks. And really that would be cool because did you know that ducks mate for life? I love things that mate for life. Wolves do. I do.

Seriously though it's really hard to entertain kids inside all. the. time. Oh i know, bundle them up and go out in the rain anyway! Have fun! Get wet! Kids LOVE splashing in the rain! Well, most kids might - not mine. They might splash a bit, but then? Then! The whining. The crying. "I'm wet." "I'm cold." I want to go home!" That's about one minute after i spend twenty minutes getting them "bundled up." Oh! And bundling up? That causes whining too. "I'm uncom-ter-fal!" "I hate rain pants!"

Oh and Parker? He just says "we go outside in the sun too-pour-oh?"

"Oh yeah baby. We go out in the sun too-poor-oh."

So whatever else poetry is freedom.Let

Far off the impatient cadences reveal

A padding for my breathless stilts.Swivel,

O hero, in the fleshy groves, skin and glycerine,

And sing of lust, the sun's accompanying shadow

Like a vampire's wing, the stillness in dead feet --

Your stave brings resurrection, O aggrieved king.

Irving Layton

Irving Layton died on January 4, 2006 in Montreal.

Every once in a while i take one of the kids out "on a date." I let them choose what we do. This usually involves dinner and a movie, or in eliza's case dinner and swimming.

Yesterday was toby's turn. He decided to invite parker and get some doughnuts, drive to victoria, go to every toy store and chinatown, and then go out for sushi. Huh? Okay!

We had a wonderful day together and somehow i let toby convince me that if he used his own money i really couldn't say no to his purchasing a little toy laser gun. I can't believe i said yes. I feel so used. I thought i was getting a romantic dinner with my best boys and all he wanted was a gun! But, he was so happy. I think it was worth it.

Parker was very pleased to be a part of the date. He kept saying "we're on a DATE mommy?!" "Yes parker - a DATE!"

He has spent the last three days carrying around a pair of Ernie socks i bought him during my infamous grocery shop. There's an elmo pair too. They have not yet left his cute little toes.

When i was young i was painfully shy and had social anxiety - not much has changed actually. I remember dreading going to birthday parties, playdates, school, gymnastics - anywhere. My little Eliza is the same way. She is perfectly happy to be with me all the time. She even pouts when i go out and leave her with her dad or grandma. I push her a little, but not too much because i understand.

The other day we were at the grocery store and an older grandma type in front of us tried to talk to her; the usual "what did you get for christmas?" Eliza ignored her, looking away pushing her tongue into her cheek ( a nervous habit). The lady then turned to me and proceeded to give me a huge lecture that went something like this:

"She doesn't talk to strangers?" "You know you CAN talk to strangers when mommy is around!" Eliza continued to ignore her. She went on..."It's a shame what you mothers are doing to children. They need to learn about community and watching out for their neighbours. You should really sign her up for a grandma program (?) and break her of this bad habit."

Ya da ya da ya da yawn. She went on and on like this. Never mind that she's not MY neighbour and sure as hell not part of my community. I was feeling pretty mad. My blood sugar was also dropping really fast and all i wanted to do was pay and get the hell out of there so that i could eat an orange.

So, finally she moved on to torment the cashier with her order of fifty little bags of bulk food and checking every single price and scan. I noticed at the end of her order a tub of tofu.

"Hey! I need tofu to go with the snap peas!"

And. And you know what i did... I stole her tofu. I picked it up from her side of the little divider bar and put it on mine. I watched carefully to make sure she didn't notice. And well Bobs Your Uncle!! She didn't notice and i did the highly civilized thing - stealing from a grandma!

OMG and WTF! I don't know what i was thinking. I'm gonna have to buy a lot of Tupperware from grandma down the street to make up for that one.

Whew. That was quite the adventure and all i have to show for it is a monster cold sore on my top lip. Apparently though, you cannot get the flu from the flu shot. Bastards. Lying dirty bastards.

In the past couple of days i have written funny and amusing posts, political and savvy posts, sweet and tender posts - unfortunately they all exist in my head.

I have not, however, figured out how i can possibly yote in our federal election without selling my soul to some evil political scheme. The conservatives, although good on some levels, are socially and morally on the opposite end of the spectrum as i am. The NDP hate the private sector, including the school my kids attend - plus they are opposed to personal wealth, at least without severe taxation. The Liberals, who are like the family friends - seriously, i remember many afternoons playing with the Trudeau kids - have become so corrupt and cheated Canadians out of so much money that it is hard for me to give them my vote even though the party itself still comes closest to my personal beliefs.

So, yesterday i had parker at the doctor to check that he was indeed getting better. He is. Our appointment was after school so i had all four kids with me. Oh don't look at me like that; everybody looks at me like that. It's not crazy, it's just life.

Anyway, while i had them all with me i asked our dr. if i was too late for the flu shot - no!

Our family doctor splits his practice with his wife and they have four kids. I love them because they "get" my life.

"Are you sure you want to do it now?" he asked me.

"Of course i do!"

You see at the mere mention of flu shot toby shot under the exam table and began wailing at the top of his lungs which, in turn, set off tristan and eliza who rolled up in the curtain and cried in terror. I smiled and laughed and parker played oblivious.

"It's going to be like this whenever we get it."

"Okay then!"

Tristan went first and squinched and flinched and when it was done said "hey! that didn't hurt!"

Each child went in turn and confirmed the "hey! it didn't hurt!" sentiments. Then i went and i was expecting it not to hurt because last year it didn't hurt at all. That was how i could be so callous with my kids. But hey! It DID hurt.

Then last night every muscle in my body started to ache and i went to bed at 9:30 and i still hurt today. Even my wrists and ankles hurt. I don't know what THAT's all about. But, apparently i am the one in 100,000 that got the flu from the flu shot.

As it's a new year it's time to make a fresh start on my self-mockery. As i have discussed many times i have a little problem with my little parker. He's a booby man. I know, you're starting to feel a little uncomfortable. He can order it in restaurants for gods sake. But, it's so much easier said than done.

Just last week i told you, ingrid internet, that i was weaning him. So didn't happen.

I think the biggest problem is that i have been trying to reason with him. Just today, i was tired, so tired, and my back was aching. That's the other part of the problem - parker sleeps in between shane and i. I don't really sleep, just rest uncomfortably in the crack waiting for him to wake up again.

Here's how it looks:

A pretty good representation right down to the nursing bra and silk lady boxers.

But then, he's my baby and i worry about him because, in my defense, he got sick last week. Now he is on two steroids and antibiotics. I am hopping back on that weaning horse when he is all better.

See:

Promise *crossing fingers* Promise!

So, my husband is a cheater pants! He was technically commenter #200, but all he wanted was to get lucky for his prize - and, well, that's not really a prize. So, i gave him his "prize".

But, the real winner is CHAIR!!! Which makes me really happy because i have the perfect prize for her and, i think, she's swell.

So, email me your delivery destination! to jess at sparksgroup dot net! And swell things are coming your way and maybe for Theya too!

Okay, so here is a link to a blog thingy shane created and uploaded his songs to. Comment here though cause i wanna know!

closer to four