buried in work…..

January 24, 2006 BlogPants

The lovely Chrixean at Unicorn Child tagged my ass, and since I’m swamped, I’m going to bless you with incessant talk about myself. That’s what blogging is all about, no?

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what did you think?

Thank God the light is off.

2. How much cash do you have on you?

Likely none. Hubby steals from my wallet to buy coffee.

3. What’s a word that rhymes with “TEST”?

That’s a weird question.

4. Favorite planet?

Well the suns a hot star…..Mercury’s hot too….Venus is the brightest planet, and earth is home to me and you. Mars is the red one, Jupiter’s most wide….Saturns got those icy rings, and YER ANUS spins on it’s side…

(courtesy: Blue’s Clues)

I am so juvenile.

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?

It is 2006 and I don’t own a cell phone. What the hell would I need one for? I’m ALWAYS here. What a loser.

6. What is your favorite ring on your phone?

Hubby’s phone plays the theme from Star Trek. Uh. Yeah. Scary.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

My 2nd fave black t-shirt. It has a cartoon flower on it. My all time favorite black t-shirt is here.

8. Do you “label” yourself?

I’m a MILF.

9. Name the brand of shoes you’re currently wearing now:

I’m barefoot - housewife, remember?

10. Bright or Dark Room?:

Bright!

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?

She’s incredibly sweet and intelligent.

12. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Designing

13. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?

Okay, we’ve established I’m a loser, right (see # 5)

14. Where is your nearest 7-11?

A 2 minute drive from here.

15. What’s a saying(s) that you say a lot?

“Fuck!” “Whatever.” “Stop sticking things in the VCR!”

16.Who told you they loved you last?

Dylan, before he left for school.

17. Last furry thing you touched?

Ruffy….good morning rubs…she’s my only daughter…awwww..

18. How many days of school did you miss this week

None, sence I dun’t go two SHKKKOOOOL.

19. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?:

What the hell is film?

20. Favorite age you have been so far?:

All of them.

21. Your worst enemy?

I don’t have enemies - I have challenges.

22. What is your current desktop picture:

23. What was the last thing you said to someone?:

“Have a great day sweetie, I love you!”

24. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly, which would you choose?:

If it was the ability to fly without assitance of a plane or whatever, then flying….totally. I used to have dreams as a child that I could fly and they were amazing. Money isn’t everything.

25. Do you like someone?

I like Daren. Shhhhh….don’t tell him.

26. The last song you listened to?

The one here on my website. Fiest - “Inside and out.”

27. Carmen Electra or Pam Anderson?

If I have to choose, then Pammy cuz she’s Canadian.

I’m tagging all my friends from MM:

(everyone else, feel free to snag this meme and run with it!)

Sassy

Laura

Patty

Lisa

Penny

113798697829535625

January 22, 2006 BlogPants

don’t ask me

BlogPants

** Oh look at the second one - it says: “You can dress up a troll, but not too much.”

Gimmie some troll skin. Yeah.

*barfing*

hooked on phonics

January 21, 2006 BlogPants

Daren has really outdone himself. I know he’s been working hard and that is precisely why I decided to torment him further by giving him a chick-chore to do.

His very best friend Tom, and Tom’s wife Michelle are having a baby. Tom’s sister-in-law and I decided to throw Michelle a baby shower and I got the job of sending the invitations. Stupid me went and got a pack of invites, which were incredibly cute, but only had 4 in the pack. 4? What the hell is that about?

Anyway, I asked Daren to go to the same store and get one more pack because although the majority of the people invited are on www.evite.com (which totally fabulous by the way!), 5 required snail mail invites.

Being the busy (read: procrastinating) husband that he is, Daren took FOUR days to bring me more invites. I pulled them out of the bag, and the picture was all well and good. But they said, “Thank you for the Baby Gift.”

I sighed.

Daren wasn’t happy about having to go back to the “fucking store,” but assured me he would.

Yesterday, (THREE days later), he heads out to run errands and brings back a new pack. Cool. Thanks dear. I set them aside and forget about them.

So today, I wrote out all the cards and envelopes, and start putting them together. Then I noticed:

I guess chick-chores must be handled by chicks.

Contest Over!

January 20, 2006 BlogPants

Any entries received after 12 noon will not be included in the draw.

Good luck to everyone that entered! The winner will be picked at random tonight, and announced by Monday January 23rd.

of deadbeat dads and holes in hearts

BlogPants

Wow. Check out this story. It’s opened the floodgates for me. Be prepared.

While my own father never faked his own death, he disappeared once my mother kicked him out. I was 8 months old and so the story goes, he wanted her to stay home and collect welfare with him. If she was working, he couldn’t collect as much. She, coming from a family with a strong work-ethic, said no to that and told him if he wouldn’t work, he was to leave. So the story goes.

There are pictures of me, sitting on our front porch, waiting for him. My mother says, every Saturday, even as a 4 year old, I would get myself dressed, brush my hair, and sit on that front porch. She would urge me to come in and have lunch, and I would beg to eat on the porch. Soon after lunch, I would sit in her lap and ask her a million times, through tears, why he wouldn’t come. She says I was more concerned with his well-being, and told her that maybe he as in an accident and should we call him?

I don’t remember these days. I don’t remember the hurt.

At 7, I do remember my father suddenly being there, every other weekend or so. He took me to the CN Tower, to Centre Island, and the Scarborough Bluffs. Every Sunday night my mother would be scowling when I told her what we did and how much fun we had. I thought maybe she was mad at me. Now I see she was not, that she was trying to protect my brother from his own ‘hole in his heart,’ his father having taken off as well. She was angry that my father kept me from seeing the man he was by twirling me so fast every weekend into cotton candy and rides. She simply wanted him to be a father to me, I suppose.

At 10, my mother remarried a third time. A custody battle ensued and both my mother and father fought to keep me completely from the other. My mother told me that my father had never wanted me, that he hid to avoid paying paid child support, and recanted those stories of the porch and how many tears she had wiped.

My father played on my mother’s weaknesses for alcohol and explained to me what drunk was. He told me of her infedelities, her vulnerability for men, and made me aware of things that at 10, I was not ready to hear. Suddenly I looked at my parents through critical eyes, watching my mother’s every sip, every flip of the hair, every exposure of her neck to men in the stores and at school. Sure, she was married, so what?

I watched my father carefully for signs that he loved me. I tested him ruthlessly and one visitation weekend, I refused to speak to him for what he was putting us all through by dragging us to court. Home life was tense and there was so much yelling, it still rings in my ears. By Sunday, after many attempts to get me to speak, he yelled at me. He had never before yelled at me. He had been alot of things, absent, irresponsible, but he had never once raised his voice of given me shit for anything. When I was with him, he treated me very much like an adult so for him to yell, broke my heart. We were surrounded by family at the time and I remember being comforted by someone as they assured me that my dad indeed loved me. Someone else took him out of the restaurant so he could cool off.

My parents never spoke again after that. They were never on good terms anyway, but my dad losing it was the last straw and although I loved him, at the time I was afraid to go back, so it seemed best I didn’t see him anymore.

I sought my father out when I got older. At 14, I left my mother’s home. The abuse was bad and the drinking was worse. I went to live with my dad and his new wife after living with a friend and her family for over a year. The entire 2 weeks that I stayed with my father, he never once spoke to his wife, and he certainly never helped with their new baby girl. His wife came to me, looking for insight, validation that he loved her. At 16, I was not able to give her any advice, but I listened, also looking for insight into who this man was and why he clammed up when things got rocky.

I left his home so quickly, and in silence. He was sitting on the couch, staring at the t.v. while I carted my small existence out in boxes, pacing through his viewing path. He never said a word. Once everything was in my (maternal) grandmother’s car, I stood between him and the t.v. and asked him if he was going to say goodbye. He stared blankly past me. I think he was dead inside, depressed. I hugged his wife and daughter. I suppose she is my half-sister. Soon after I left, he and the wife broke up and he hid from her to avoid paying support to her as well. I wonder if my sister ever sat on a porch, waiting for him.

**After many attempts as an adult to have a relationship with my father, I have moved on. There will always be a place in my heart for the man who was kind to me as a child. He was a brilliant escape from my home-life, he treated me well when I was in his presense, and I do love him, although I don’t have much respect for him. Is there a hole in my heart anymore? I don’t think so. It’s filled with good memories and I will treasure them. He’s not my hero, but he was the best father he knew how to be. I hope he is doing well, wherever he is.

Extreme Blog Makeover Contest coming to a close

BlogPants

thank you!

January 19, 2006 BlogPants

let’s go retro

BlogPants

Yo Quiero Sleep.

January 18, 2006 family

Since Christmas holidays have been over and we’re back to our usual ‘rise at 6:30 a.m’ thing, Troll Baby has given me alot of grief in the nap department. Don’t even suggest to me that, at a little over 18 months, he is ready to give up naps, because I’m not buying it. He likes to torment me and that’s the theory I’m sticking to. I’m not giving up the naps.

The “PLAN” was to start up my web design business after Christmas. Beforehand, I got a few things ready, and once Dylan went back to school, I got to work. It is going swimmingly and I’m really really happy with the results thus far. Finding the right hosting company has been a challenge, but I’m still looking. Blobspot is not forever, that’s for damn sure.

So before the holidays where Dylan and Daren went to school and work and life was peaceful, I used to feed Thomas lunch and put him to bed, where he would typically sleep from 1 till 4. Great! 3 hours was wonderful - I could shower quickly and get to work. Well the world must have tilted slightly from all the toys these kids got for Christmas, because suddenly we’re on Calgary time and he doesn’t sleep until 3 now. Great.

Instead of sleeping, he has come up with some new hobbies. He does the let’s-see-how-many-times-mommy-will-come-

back-scream, which if I were to guess, sounds like a troll in heat. How apropos. He has his famous throw everything out of the crib trick, which is followed by the screaming troll hollaback. There’s always that underlying fear that he will do this again, so I check on him enough that I’d catch it, I hope. He bangs on the wall, he sings, he talks, and it’s all so “cute” I’d love to bottle it and sell it, but really, I need him to sleep! By the time he finally goes down, Dylan is walking in the door within 20 minutes and I never get a break! Poor Dylan has to speak to me in hushed tones before school, and now after school too? Yesterday Dylan threw a hissy fit because Thomas had just gotten to sleep and I wouldn’t let him invite his friends over. I’m mean like that sometimes.

So instead of writing for any of the three websites I’m supposed to, and instead of working on graphics, I’m here this afternoon. I know I will pay later when I have to stay up half the night. My eyes are burning from sleeping very little and hubby has been working just as hard with his regular job, freelance work, basement renovations, and hockey. Some weeks we’re stretched further than we need to be and I miss him, even though he’s (sorta) here.

Sleep needs to visit our house. Tonight.