Porch Monster

I'm too hyped up on sugar to write a real post.

But I just had to share this picture of my boys in all their Halloween finery, under the Porch Monster that hubby created.

Pure Awesomeness

 But let's look a bit closer, shall we... Felix is off doing his own gymnastic-y thing, but some key details are being overlooked...

The samurai is all YIEEEEEEEE!

And the vampire's all VLAUUGHHHHHH!

Just try to keep a straight face while looking at this. I dare you. Hubby and I have been giggling like school girls since I downloaded it and zoomed in. It really does capture the essence of their relationship. Well, minus the samurai sword about to lop off kiddo's head. Those are usually only figurative.

So I'm going to lurch myself up to bed so I can keep my hands out of the boys' treat bags. I promise.
Until next time, catch up on our past Halloween's here, here & here

Baby Lust: a vlog.

SO sorry for the delay!!! But here it is, my vlogging debut!



I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Monday, November 7, 1994
*contains bad words and a destructive cat tail.

For reference: Kaleb Andrew and ShayLeigh. The hell?

Hubby always knew I wanted kids. Lots of them. The deal was, we'd start trying as soon as we got married. And so we did. I showed him this diary entry years ago and he was all, "Whoa, crazy chick." Yep, that's me. And then I did become a mom and got hit with the PPD stick and that made me even more crazy, in a different way. Parenting and stay-at-home-mommying didn't turn out like I'd imagined, but I also can't imagine life without our boys. Who have perfectly normal names. Not that Kaleb Andrew is bad... but ShayLeigh? Really??!

Typical day

vlogging

So Flashback Friday has been postponed this week, due to laziness. Mine, not yours. (EDIT: A week late, but here it is!)

I dragged my feet yesterday then cracked open the diary around 11pm last night. Saw a 6 page entry and promptly went to bed. Tonight I had the bright idea to try a video blog for the first time. I found a quiet hidey hole (well, except for the cat, who managed to bump the screen at one point) and read the entry. But I haven't been able to get it uploaded. Forgive me - I know you're just dying to find out what was going on in my 15 year old head. I'll give you a hint: babies. With WTF names.

I hope to have this sorted out by morning. Until then, this is how I spent the rest of my day today:

Covered in chalk...

My driveway - aka racetrack, temple, sidewalk, zoo and camera store.

And a place where animals get funky.

Even stuffies got in on the outside action.

Playdough.

Rar.

Celebrity crushes

So I have a thing for Pacey.

Ok, ok.

Source

But Joshua Jackson's smoldering Peter Bishop makes me melt. The chemistry between his character and Anna Torv's Olivia is intense. The fierce protectiveness he has towards her, the tenderness. It makes me ache. After each episode, I'm left wanting more. More emotion, more development. The not-quite unrequited-ness of it tears at me. I dream about it.

Which probably isn't a healthy thing. It's an addiction, drawing me into the program, giving birth to the characters, bringing them to life all around me. ...But I'm going with it.

This crush is different from the lust I have towards Johnny Depp. Yes, it's cliche, but Captain Jack Sparrow makes me swoon. It's not often I am overwhelmed with the urge to lick someone. And that spark flickers in all of his character portrayals, no matter how oddball.

Source

I told hubby last year if he dressed as Jack Sparrow for Halloween, I would toss the boys and the candy out in the street and we would cancel trick-or-treating. He was tempted, I'm sure. But maintains that he's not going to stoop to that level. Ever. And by that he means that the "Sexy Pirate" costume is everywhere and overrated. And so he won't. But I can dream. And come on - he's already got the hair going for him! Add in that drawling never-may-care accent and I'll puddle right then and there. BTW, that offer still stands, honey.

Source

Jeff Goldblum. Now that's one you probably wouldn't expect. But he's got that same fierceness, a dark magnetism beneath the surface, and I'm captivated.

Source

Benjamin Bratt. *drool* I was a wavering fan of Private Practice until this season... then he joined the cast. He's been on my radar for years. And now he's front and centre. Makes me happy. And a bit weirded out because sometimes he reminds me of my dad, who is of French-Acadian decent, dark toned and oft mustachioed. (And who is a reader of this blog - let's all say HI to Rainy's dad!)

I'm trending, I know. Tall, dark and ruggedly handsome. With layers and often severe character flaws. But it's the devotion, the near worship of their female counterparts, that makes me quiver. The rawness that seeps out. Makes me feel like I'm right there, that it's all for me.

Give all those writers and directors a hand. They have hit their target market. Well done. And thank you. More, please. Me thinks I watch faaaaaar to much television.

But now, I'll go cuddle up with this guy - my best and lasting trend.

*mwa*

Down by the Bay

I'm taking the Pledge

I know I shouldn't. I know it's terrible. I know there are always more sides to the story. But I judge. The baby in the stroller with the propped up bottle or the sugared donut? Yeah, I'm looking at you. The skanky looking girl at school? Yeah you. The preppy looking mamas in the school yard? Yep, you too.

It starts of simple enough. A side by side comparison. Me vs them. And it usually ends one of 2 ways - I'm bitter and depressed because I don't measure up or I'm smug and high-horsey because I make out smelling like roses.

And this needs to stop. Not only is it petty and mean, but it makes me paranoid. If I know I'm judging everyone else, then why wouldn't they be judging me?

So I'm taking the Mom Pledge. I am holding myself accountable, both online and in person. We are all doing the best we can, under the circumstances that are doled out, no matter what they might be. That baby with the bottle? Well maybe they were running late for an important appointment and it was the only way to feed the child and arrive on time. Or that donut or sugary treat was their first! Or a weekly treat. Or a reward. And I've gotten to know that girl at school. She's one of the smartest in her class. The preppy mamas? Well, ok, maybe they're putting on a show for everyone else because they feel judged when they show up in lulus. Or whatever.

It doesn't matter. It stops now.

Take the Pledge with me!

I am a proud to be a mom. I will conduct myself with integrity in all my online activities. I can lead by example.

I pledge to treat my fellow moms with respect. I will acknowledge that there is no one, "right" way to be a good Mom. Each woman makes the choices best for her family.

I believe a healthy dialogue on important issues is a good thing. I will welcome differing opinions when offered in a respectful, non-judgmental manner. And will treat those who do so in kind.

I stand up against cyber bullying. My online space reflects who I am and what I believe in. I will not tolerate comments that are defamatory, hateful or threatening.

I refuse to give those who attack a platform. I will remove their remarks with no mention or response. I can take control.

I want to see moms work together to build one another up, not tear each other down. Words can be used as weapons. I will not engage in that behavior.

I affirm that we are a community. As a member, I will strive to foster goodwill among moms. Together, we can make a difference.

Rainy falls in with the bad crowd

I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Tuesday, November 1, 1994 

I went to the party & had a blast! It ended up being at M's aunts camp. Someone brought hash. Everyone there (M, J, TS, KA & B) were "toking". They heated up the burner on the stove & pryed it apart with knives. B cut up his hash (M, J & TS were "scared" cause the pieces were so big.) I dunno what they did next, but they then inhaled the fumes or whatever with a plastic water bottle that they had the end cut off. TS toked a really big piece & she started coughing & stuff. J was laughing at her (J was kinda high) then TS started shaking & twitching all over. She was almost having convulsions. JC&BC were there at this time (they left soon after; & MB & HB showed up, too.) JC carried T outside & me & BC & JC stayed with her, talking to her & stuff. She wouldn't answer, she nodded yes or no. We were out there for about 15 min... it was cold!

Then JC carried TS upstairs & layed her on the bed. When he came back down, him & BC left. JC said to keep an eye on TS... since everyone was "happy" JC got me to do it. (I was the only one besides them * MB & HB... at that time... who wasn't/hadn't toked."

I sat down on the couch & was listening to everyone talk... B had this piece of string... it looked like a shoelace, and he kept playing with it; making it talk, etc. KA found it hilarious! (It was only funny in the way that everyone else found it funny. Then we heard a loud thump from upstairs. Me & KA ran up to check TS. She had fallen off the bed & was shaking & jumping. (It scared me!) KA eventually went back downstairs & I stayed with TS 'til she came 'round enough to go downstairs. (about 15 min)

We went down & sat on the couch. KA sat beside me to "keep me company". He asked if I was ticklish & started tickling my feet. I over-exagerated how ticklish I am & MB got mad cause he was trying to roll a 1/2 joint/smoke & we were shaking the couch.

KA had come over before the party. He helped with supper/dishes. When he was "wrecked" he said that he had "super sucked up to  my parents" and that he'd been "dying for a smoke" so that's why he'd helped out.

Mom & John came & got me at 10:00. When I got home, my eyes were right bloodshot & my voice was high (nerves, excitement.) They probably thought I was high... but the only thing I did all night was have 2 drags off cigarettes (TS & BC). Cigarettes don't really affect me, probably 'cause I don't inhale. 

Last night, when everyone else was out trick-or-treating, I smoked my last, stale, 1 month old cigarette. It was gross. I inhaled twice & started hacking. Yesterday on the bus, KA apologised for me being bored & not having fun at the party... But I did have fun!! Lots of it! I was happy just leaving the house! KA also said I have a very loving family... his parents always fight. He said he wasn't sure if he liked my family, 'cause he'd never seen a really "loving" family like it before. I wonder about my "family". I don't like it, yet everyone else seems to. 

There's a line in a song by Neil Young** that goes "she never let her roots down." it made me really think about how I treat my family. I used to say my family embarassed me... I'm just embarassed at myself. I do have a good family. I can't say they're strict with me, cause I do get to do so many things (party, dances) I wonder do I embarass my family? God, I hope not!

**For YEARS I hated Neil Young, couldn't stand listening to his music. I was because of KA that I started listening again - he thought it was cool. I just thought mom's music was dumb - lots of bad memories at the time. But very nostalgic now!

I've got a good family & great life. I've got to work on my personality. I'm a real bitch.

Anyway,

Love, Rainy

Ooooh boy. Lots going on in this post. I still remember that party. I still find the shoelace bit kinda funny. I am still freaked out by TS's seizure thing. I am glad I had the experience, glad I had the presence of mind to not get myself in trouble. But wow. What a night. As a parent, I hope my boys will be strong enough to stick to their guns. I was offered drugs that night and said no. And my decision was respected. I am thankful that my "bad crowd" was essentially good. I am still friends with one person from the group.


I did get a bit maudlin there, at the end, didn't I? Apparently it pissed me off later, as penciled in at the end of this entry, dated March 1995 are these words: Aw, fuck off! So darling of me. 

 Christmas 1994? 1995?

Driftwood

Giving Thanks

Took a road trip this weekend. Drove longingly past wineries. Lunched at a playground. Found a pumpkin patch on the side of the road and pulled away with 4 pumpkins, fresh off the vine and an assortment of small, bumpy gourds, smelling of crisply of autumn earth. Turned off the highway an hour before our official exit and took the back road, past houses and farms and parks that were part of childhood trips. Visited my elementary school, drooled over the new playground equipment. Maneuvered ever so carefully over the potholes on the old road, pausing to recall so many years ago. Arrived, well past expected, at my aunt's on the lake. Unloaded, ate, and then watched the boys play tag well into to the darkness, rolling like puppies, wine in hand.

Industrious.

Breakfasted the next morning with my step-father and siblings. We weren't expected and neither was my brother, so it was a fun surprise all around. The boys needed to burn off energy before the big meal, so we found a rocky shore, smelled the salty air, climbed and explored. Dinner was a huge affair, with over 40 aunts, uncles, cousins. Vodka soaked cranberries. Delicious.

Pensive.

A jump of 25 degrees had us sweating in our long sleeved shirts and flannel pajamas. But allowed for freedom - exploration of the lake, the woods. My father came to visit, coffee in hand; walking through the vibrant changing leaves, the junkyard heaps, the air thick with wasps.

Bouncy boys.

Large net strung between the trees. Not photoshopped.

The boys didn't want to go, their cousins didn't want to say goodbye. Back in the car, weaving through remarkably light holiday traffic. Heavy police presence. We made better time, arriving exactly one minute under estimate. Unloaded, ate, soaked up the relaxation of home, wine in hand.

Sleepy and late start today, then into the bustle of work and school. The happiness of the weekend spilling out of them, staying with them. Elliot in particular kept with him the magic, the calmness of the weekend. For this, I am thankful. For friends and family, good food and tangy wine, I am thankful. Tonight's air dropped 20 degrees, smelling vaguely of snow. I guess I can be thankful for that as well. 

Rainy dearie

I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Monday, October 24, 1994

KA invited me to his camp to party on Thursday. I wanna go, but I'll get in the biggest shit of my life! At noon today, when me & R left, KA and his friend J were walking ahead of us... he turned around and said Hi Rainy dearie, & put his arm around me. We walked like that for a while, then him & J walked ahead, & kept laughing & turning around.

On the bus, he said that they weren't talking about me... they were just trying to psyche me out. His birthday is Jan. 5... he claims I now know more about him than his parents do! We went around a corner and he leaned right into me... he said it wasn't a come on, then he rubbed my knee, laughing. Could he like me? He's really serious, & thoughtful of others feelings. he's really opinionated, and he's a real good friend, but I wonder what kind of boyfriend he'd make, he's high half the time! (I think he was this afternoon!)

Love Rainy

You know, it's things like this that make me glad I don't have a daughter. But that also make me cringe about having boys. Have to keep them on the right path!

Rainbow