Sleep and Airplanes

I was in the middle of a lovely dream last night, where the airport was conveniently located next to my house. I was just about to board a plane when I awoke with a start.

Startled awake by the sounds of snoring.

It wasn't the Hubby.

It was the DOG.

And not the 70 pound dog.

It was the 7 pound dog. Sawing logs. In a large forest. With a chain saw.

I've been woken up many a time in my history of sleep.....snoring Husband, crying baby, barfing child, water breaking...you know...they usual stuff. But now I am being woken up by the 14 year old dog snoring away?

By the eighth tree, he took a smoke break and I got back to boarding that plane.

Turns out it's great to have an airport right next door because the pilot will wait for you to run home and grab the child's blanket you forgot to pack.

If I got more sleep I wouldn't forget these things in the first place.

Some Randon Pictures (and some words too)

In a vain attempt to snazzy up this little blog, I shall now delve into some wonderful Kodak moments of my daily life.

These Kodak moments were taken with a Canon. Which may explain any lameness that follows. You've been warned.

This

is Bryn's new pillow. That is Bear sleeping on Bryn's new pillow.

This

is where Bryn hangs out now that Bear has Bryn's new pillow to sleep on.

This

is what took 1 and a half hours to peel and cut up to make apple butter. My parents have many apple trees in their back yard.

I listened to Maroon 5 's latest CD (twice) while peeling all those apples. I think Maroon 5 needs to find a less crappy girlfriend. A man shouldn't have to love a pillow.

This

may look like just a heavy book lying on the floor in the livingroom. But if you look closely, you can see the squashed and very dead spider underneath. The book has been lying there since 8:25 am. I do spiders like I do dead fish. I don't. When the hubby gets home, he can check that out for me.

It was a day full of wild and crazy fun in our house today. Keeley ended up needing a bit of a rest.

And these

are apple strudel muffins.

Mom. I need more apples.

Oops

Keeley is talking up a storm lately. I love this stage of twoyearoldhood. Every day brings new words into her repertoire.

Today's was 'frick'.

As in she spilled her milk and she said, "Ahhhhhh. FRICK!"

Oops.

Let's just say she didn't learn that from the hubby. As he so duly pointed out at dinner.

Crap. I mean oops.

A 6 Year Old's Perspective

Last night Eilidh informed me that a new boy will be starting in her grade 1 class today. I'll call him Joe.

"Ms. Teacher told us he uses a wheelchair so we have to make sure we push in our chairs all the time so he can get by," Eilidh informed me.

We had a conversation about some of the different reasons a person needs to use a wheelchair. Wheelchairs have been in our topic of conversation of late because my cousin's wife just won gold and broke a world record at the Paralympics.

This morning Eilidh said, "Mom, I'm still going to like Joe being in our class. I don't mind that he's a boy."

Amen sister. Amen.

The Dog Whisperer

So I'm down in the basement shredding 8 years of paperwork with my handy dandy new paper shredder and I thought to myself, "Dang this is rather tedious. Why don't I turn on the tv and see what's playing on this sunny Saturday afternoon."

Not much.

After an hour or so of shredding about 18 trees worth of old bank statements, I switched the channel and discovered the Dog Whisperer. I've read one of his books that I should have just bought because it cost $13 in late fines at the local library, but that being another story for another blog about my tendency to put things off....well, heck. I guess that does kinda coincide with the whole 8 years of unshredded paperwork. Hmmm.

Back to the Dog Whisperer. Wow. I could use a few sessions with him. I'm thinking he could do a world of good for my kids. If I could get them to listen to me with just a look and hand gesture that doesn't involve a middle finger the world would be a happy place. For me.

The thing that bugs me about the show is he fixes the oddly neurotic dog (I mean, really, who would have ever thought a dog could have an eating disorder) in a fifteen minute segment. You have to listen really hard to catch the voice over of '21 days later' while you watch the now perfect dog being handed back over to its owner.

15 minutes fixes in my life amount to chocolate fixes, sugar fixes, salt fixes and swearing behind a locked bathroom door to relieve stress fixes. Perhaps I'm just bitter. But it does explain the 10 pounds I cannot seem to lose.

Maybe that's what I need.

The Mommy Whisperer. (I'm getting a wee bit excited just typing those words).

The Mommy Whisperer would have to be good looking. Duh. And have a dreamy, soothing voice. And be carrying liquor.

He could teach me patience when confronted by an irate 16 year old while a 2 year creates artwork on the wall. He could show me the honour in stretch marks up past my navel and in driving a 12 year old purple minivan. The Mommy Whisperer could teach me to reason with a 14 year old boy on the benefits of hygiene and help me to see the light in regards to my own diet and exercise.

He wouldn't leave until I was perfect and then he could hand me back to my family all shiny and wonderful. I'd bake cookies everyday that I didn't hoard and eat myself. I'd always have the laundry folded and cook wholesome and delicious meals that do not contain the food group of macaroni and cheese.

It's a dream. Or a nightmare. I'm not sure which.

But hey, if he brings liquor.......

Gardening 101

My mom is laughing at the title.

Both my parents have green thumbs yet neglected to pass that gene on to me. They managed to pass on the obscenely early grey hair gene. Thanks for that.

But I persevered today and at the ripe age of 39 years old, I planted my very first daffodil bulbs.

This is a monumental day for me. Not only did I plant bulbs for the first time, but I also PLANNED something for next spring.

Every spring that comes along ends up with me looking forlornly at all the wonderful gardens full of yellow daffodils, MOCKING me and my lack of planning skills. Not this year, baby. I mean.....not NEXT year, baby. Next year I will have yellow flowers.

Well, assuming that I planted those bulbs correctly and they actually grow. To be perfectly honest, I'm not holding my breath. I know my mom won't be.

Gardening and planning. What a day.

It's 11 pm. Do you know where your children are?

Yes. I do.

Which is why I'm sitting in front of the computer, not going to bed.

Because I know there's a 6 year old in my bed, sweating away, limbs sprawled out in all directions, just waiting to leech her sleeping self onto me as soon as I go to bed. Leech. And sweat.

You see, I'm a pushover. I cave in to the misty, forlorn, "my daddy has gone away again and left me with you", sad, big blue eyes of a 6 year old, just like Patrick caves at the sight of bacon. How can I tell her she can't sleep in my bed while her daddy's away when she looks at me like that?

If I were stoic, I would be relishing in the thought of a sleep filled night with no snoring. (Sorry Heath. I couldn't help myself.) But I'm not stoic, I have no spine, I caved, and now my slumber will be comparable to sleeping in a sauna with an octopus that has massive suction cups on its flailing appendages and is wearing army boots.

Motherhood. Not for the faint of heart.

An Itch

I love being at home full time. Not that most people would gather that from the vast majority of my posts but I really do mean it. I'm not good at the whole high stress thing. I'm not a good multi-tasker when it comes to juggling work, children, house, and yes let's not forget relationship with the hubby.

"The plan" is for me to go back to work when Keeley goes to school. Most days I'm quite fine with this.

But once in a while, I get an itch.

I dropped Eilidh off into her new grade one class. She was so proud to be showing me her beautiful new classroom. As I looked around the room, it came out of nowhere. A gorgeous little boy. And I wished I could stay and be a part of his learning in amongst this group of children.

I admit, I looked quite jealously at the classroom aide. She didn't look thrilled to be there. I wanted to be in her shoes. I'd be smiling.

But I walked out of the room (with Keeley screaming because she wanted to stay) and sauntered home in the sunshine, planning my day and all I wanted to accomplish for my family.

Work will always be there. And it's best to be at home right now.

But it does get itchy at times.

Sunrise....Sunset.....

This little girl.......

Is now this big girl........

And I left her sitting in a room, with fear on her face, mouthing to me "STAY! STAY! PLEASE!" as the teacher told the parents to leave. It was time for the teacher to take the children to their new grade one classrooms.

I faked a big smile and mouthed back to her, "You'll be fine! It's ok!! Have fun!!"

And I booked it out of the classroom, not able to walk down the hall with the other parents to check the lists to find out what class she was in. The tears started. How did my baby get old enough to be left alone in school ALL DAY?? Yet another milestone reached in her life.

I did get it together after a few minutes to go back and check the list. Eilidh has the teacher she wanted and her bestest friend is there with her. It's good. All good. But I still can't believe my little girl is not so little anymore.

There's this girl too.....

Who is now looking at these........

Because this is her last year of high school.

There are lots more tears to be shed over her.

And let's not forget this one......

Who has grown a full inch in the last month, half of that over the long weekend. Sigh.

At least I have this one.....

Still at home with me.

We're going to go for a walk in the September sunshine, where you can feel the change in the air.

It's everywhere. Change. In the weather, the trees, the air.....my children.

Today is a tough day to be a Pisces.

Summer Accomplishments

The end of summer. Bittersweet. Everyone is ready for change but sad to see the lazy days end.

I always have grandiose thoughts of accomplishing vast amounts of stuff at the the beginning of summer. Then Labour Day comes in the blink of an eye and it feels like all I managed to do was not have Social Services stop by for an unscheduled visit.

So, while I'm being forced to listen to ABBA and watch various Webkins dance (please don't ask....it's really not how I envisioned spending my Sunday mornings when I was in my youth, not to mention the oddity that Kaitlyn has ABBA on her iTunes playlist, and I didn't get to finish my coffee as Keeley decided to wash her hair scrunchies in it when I went to the bathroom....I'm a tad irritable.)

Where was I?

Oh, ya. Accomplishments. Yes. What did I accomplish this summer?

Perhaps another list.

Top Ten Things I Accomplished This Summer of 2000 and 8.

10. I bought a new journal. I've written in it twice. One of the entries doesn't have swear words in it.

9. We went camping. Albeit in an ARRRVEEEE, and we made s'mores in the microwave, but it still counts.

8. I cleaned up the wasteland on the side of our house and made it look all pretty and presentable. The neighbours really didn't have to stand outside and clap, but it was a nice touch.

7. I read the entire Twilight series. I know. I know. Don't yell at me. But Edward is just so dreamy and if you were going to fall in love with a Vampire, you'd want him to be just like Edward. Not like one that would kill you or something. That would have made for a quick book. Did I mention that the kids were up at 6 am and I haven't had much coffee?

6. I read the entire Anne of Green Gables series. Yes, I've read them several times, but just love them and wanted to experience the thrill of Anne realizing that she DOES love Gilbert after all. Dreamy sigh.

5. I visited almost every park in Maple Ridge.

4. I recovered the diningroom chairs. Hmmm. Maybe I did that in June. Crap. I posted about that too, so I'll get caught in a lie if that's the case. Hang on.

No....all good. That was in July.

3. I got to witness my husband compete in the Provincial Lifeguard Championships after being in retirement for 10 years. In the humble words of Arthur Hoggett, "That'll do, Heath. That'll do."

2. I didn't kill either dog.

and my #1 accomplishment for the Summer of 2008......

1. I drank 86 beer.

Not all at once.

Too Close to Home

My little town makes National News. And it's not good.

A 51 year old man drove his pick up truck through a local sushi restaurant on Thursday night. Two people are dead, 6 injured, including a 9 year old boy. Witnesses say the truck did not try to stop. So we all comfort ourselves with the thought that it must have been a medical emergency....51 years old...heart attack? Stroke?

We have to think that it was a horrible accident. How else do you process this type of horrific news?

But then the police tell us today that the man has been charged with 2 counts of second degree murder and 6 counts of attempted murder. He didn't know any of his victims.

And my mind cannot process this information.

There is something overpowering about bad news happening in your back door. There is something indescribable about evil happening in your community. You cannot stop asking yourself, "How many times have I been in that parking lot? How many times have I walked right past that store?

I'm very sad for our little community today. Sad for a family who has lost a wife and mother, sad for a family who lost their daughter just embarking on her adult life.

And sad for the people who witnessed this event, sad for the owners of the restaurant, sad for the firefighters, paramedics and police officers who had to deal with all of it.

Some things will never make sense, I suppose.

I'm going to go hug my kids now.

Changes

There's nothing like the start of a school year around the long weekend corner to spur some changes.

Me starting to blog again is one.

Eilidh sporting a new smile is another.

Getting Keeley's hair cut is one more. I almost cried. OK!! I cried....but just a bit. I didn't embarrass Kaitlyn too much.

How cute is that?!

And I can't wait for Tuesday. 9 am.

God bless the teachers.

What the.....

I like telling this little incident that happened tonight because I come off looking great. Heath, not so much.

After picking up Kaitlyn from work tonight, we all headed over to our local strip mall kinda deal. I was driving the purple minivan. I dropped Heath and Patrick off at one end of the vast parking lot where Patrick wanted to buy a video game. I said we'd meet them over at Stupidstore, as there was something that Kaitlyn wanted to pick up over there.

I parked the van, put Keeley in her stroller and perused all the discounted outdoor stuff while Kaitlyn ran into the store. She came out 30 seconds later saying they didn't have what she needed. Kaitlyn and I started walking down to Winners and I called Heath on his cell, asking him to meet us at Winners, not at Stupidstore.

So there Kaitlyn and I were, standing inside Winners with a clear view of Heath and Patrick walking across the vast parking lot. I got distracted with Keeley destroying a toy display, and when I looked up, I saw Heath and Patrick standing by a purple minivan fiddling with the side window that was open a crack. I thought, "What the....".

It was a purple minivan. It wasn't our purple minivan.

Heath had slid Patrick's new video game into a stranger's minivan. (I'm cracking up just typing that. You can't make this stuff up. Hehe.)

There are some things I've never pictured myself doing.

Asking a Winner's clerk to page the owner of a purple minivan is one of them. Having to explain the situation to TWO different owners of purple minivans is another. There were at least 10 people laughing their heads off in that store as I walked out with a very nice lady to her purple minivan.

Patrick got his game back. I got a blog story. And Heath....well, he learned a valuable lesson.

There are way to0 many generic purple minivans in Maple Ridge.

Back

Hello.

I'm back.

At home.

Steeped in reality.

This week I broke a record. I survived the longest running migraine of my life while camping with four children and my in-laws. A five day migraine for all you who are interested. Insert feeling sorry for me here. > * <

Despite thinking I was most obviously dying from a brain tumor, we all had a good time. Making s'mores with the aid of an RV microwave left a bit to be desired, though. We came back with lots of cheap American beer so I'm all set now that my migraine is gone.

Nothing broke down in our vehicle. We did not get stranded on the side of the road and I did not spend our vacation in a repair garage. There were no wasp attacks or ant infestations.

I have lots of witty and adorable stories to tell. But they will have to wait. I'm not feeling very witty or adorable today.

And the Mahoney Family Camping Trip Begins....

Or does it?

Heath's uncle is very ill. We might not go or we might go but not with his parents or we might not go where we originally planned or....

And since we were planning on going 'over the border' down to Birch Bay, the Loonie fell 4 cents overnight. Some guy on the news was blabbering about falling oil prices or something but I know. I know it's our fault. Sorry all you investors. I know the real reason. It's because the Mahoneys are heading (somewhere) on the road and starting their family vacation.

Let the fun begin!

Please.

Update!! Heath's uncle is stabilizing. Thank you God. It's on. We're going. Vacationing in Birch Bay with four kids and the in-laws. In their RV.

Now if I could just stop Eilidh from saying "That thar is an RRRRVVVVEEEEE". Any of you National Lampoon Christmas Vacation fans out there know what I'm talking about. For the record, the in-laws RV is in no way remotely related to the RV in that movie, but someone who shall not be named made the mistake of quoting that line once or twice. Oops.

Stupidstore Thinks I'm Stupid

I want to warn you all about a little scam I call, "Let's offer our customers gas at a discount and then raise all our prices."

Stupidstore. Shudder.

Yes. I went there today. Perhaps that's where the stupid part starts, I admit, but I had shopping to do for camping and just daily life, so off I went. I went prepared. I had a list. I had read their flyer and knew what was on sale.

The store was COVERED in signs letting me know I was going to SAVE BIG on gas today!! The more I bought, the bigger my savings were going to be at their gas pump today!! I proceeded into the store to my first purchase from their newspaper advertisement of 30% off sunscreen. And it wasn't on sale. Then went to pick up my diaper wipes that were advertised as free when I got their club pack of diapers.....and it was only the 'supreme' club pack that had that deal, not the ones I buy, yet WERE PICTURED in the flyer. Do you think I could find anyone to ask them about this? Of course not.

As I proceeded throughout the store, and down my list, I discovered that the vast majority of things I typically purchase in their store had been marked up. Way up. Like, whole grain bread I bought last Friday at $2.48 was now $3.79. I could see the previous sticker underneath. It was rampant in the store. Those employees must have been up all night changing all the prices.

Then I went to get the juice that was advertised in their flyer at 2 for $1. Not on sale in the store. Oh, really?

Cereal. Box I bought last week at $4.99 was now mark at $6.99. Didn't get any.

The granola bars on for $1.49? (Hey, we're going camping.) None of the slightly better variety that were shown in their flyer were there.

Save up to 50% on camping and sporting goods? There was not ONE thing in there with a larger discount than 33%. And I was in the store on the very first day.

I hate being duped. I HATE supporting a store that thinks I'm an idiot and will fall for their tricks. But I wasn't finished. I still had to get through the checkout.

Subconsciously, I must have been wanting to seek my revenge, and so I dropped a case of pop at the checkout. Yes, I'm a klutz. But I'm also a Mahoney so I managed to drop the pop in such a way as to cause one of those said pops nestled inside the case to explode and start spirting generic sprite all over the floor, the checkout next to us, the shopping cart and of course, all over me. As I'm standing there, holding a possessed box of soda, the checkout girl actually asks me, "Is it leaking?" I'm not sure what gave it away. The noise the case was making? The sticky pop spewing out the cracks? Me saying,"AHHH. It's spraying everywhere?"

I begged her for help. A garbage can? Some paper towels? Page someone? ANYTHING! Please don't just stand there looking at me holding an animated case of pop.

She finally paged someone to come help. That was great. Some fourteen year old BOY came and stood there looking at me, still holding the case of pop with liquid squirting out. He finally said, "Oh. Is it leaking?" Which led me to believe that it must be a phrase taught in Stupidstore Employee Training. He came around to my side of the counter and tried to take the case. I suggested he get a garbage can or something, but he just took the case and started walking away. And as pop is streaming out the sides and all along the floor, he says, "OH!!! It's really leaking."

And honest, I am not making this up, I had to tell the cashier that she should call someone to clean up the pop that was all over the floor so the 90 year old lady behind me wouldn't slip and fall. "Oh, really? The floor's wet? Is it sticky?"

Very long pause.

I did not swear at her. Or under my breath. Honest.

"Yes...the floor is sticky. And wet. The pop spilled all over the floor. Pop is wet and sticky." (Ok, that part I just said in my head, but, I WISH I had the guts to say it out loud.)

In the end, the 90 year old lady paid for her groceries standing in a puddle of no name sprite, with me bagging my groceries and watching her, waiting to dive and catch her if she started to go down. The 14 year old BOY eventually came and handed a new case of pop to the cashier, who promptly gave it to the 90 year old lady. The elderly lady didn't even try to explain it to the cashier. She just rolled her eyes and handed the case to me.

So, all in all, I guess Stupidstore is out $1.48 because of me.

Who's laughing now...huh?

Chapter 5 in the Toothbrush Saga

There was something in the air this morning. That something was revenge.

Heath's lunch was packed with extra care today. I hope he tastes the love with each bite.

Troy the Catfish

Troy the Catfish is technically a Betta fish.

Troy was dead last night. I swear. I went into the kitchen and there he was, bottom's up. Floating upside down. Not moving. The classic dead fish pose.

Which meant I left the room and dry heaved in the living room. I can change dirty diapers, hold out my hands instinctively to catch a child's puke, and pick snot out of a baby's nose, but dead fish are not something I do. Cannot do.

So I went to bed. Yes, I left that dead fish floating in the bowl, sitting on my kitchen counter for Eilidh to wake up and discover. I'm a horrible mother, but as I said, I don't do dead fish.

Troy the Catfish was swimming around his little bowl this morning. Which means he's either on his second life as a catfish or he was just playing a practical joke on me. Perhaps Heath put him up to it.

Happy as I was to see him alive, I decided to clean his bowl for him. As I was scooping Troy up to put him in his nice clean bowl, he jumped OUT of the scoop and into the sink. I like trying to pick up flopping fish off the bottom of a stainless steel sink equally as much as floating dead fish. It wasn't a pretty moment. He can flop pretty high up, though, and he got enough momentum going that he flopped into the scoop I was holding beside him as I screamed, "HELPPP!!! HELPPP!!!! HEATH!!! HELPPP!!! AAAAHHHHHH!!!!". Repeatedly.

So, I think that means he's on his third life already. We've had him for 6 days now, so if my math is correct and he goes through 3 lives a week around here, I'm giving him until mid August.

I'm going camping next week with 4 children and my in laws.

Troy may outlive me.

A Trip to Ikea, Mahoney Style

Kaitlyn is in the midst of decorating her room, which of course means a trip to Ikea.

We decided to meet Heath there after work, and have a family dinner out. Where else can you feed children for $1.99 and get free childminding? Those Swedes really know how to bring in customers.

Being a family of 6, it is a rarity to eat out. And eating in a restaurant with a very busy 2 year old is not on my "Top Ten List of Fun Things To Do". It is on my "Top Ten List of Things That Are More Fun To Do Than a Root Canal", but I digress.

So there we were, sitting with 4 kids in the middle of the Ikea 'restaurant'. And things were going fairly smoothly. Yes, my leg and foot were coated with a greasy film of Ikea "gravy" that some child who didn't belong to me happened to drop all down my leg and onto my foot as we waited in line....I digress again....but overall, none of my children had managed to spill anything or hit someone or complain about why we spend our summer vacations in Ikea while their cousins go to Disneyland.

As we were finishing up, an elderly lady came up to our table. She apologised for interrupting us. She then went on to say how she had been sitting at her table drinking her tea and was just so taken with how lovely our children and family were. She gushed about how nice it was to see a family enjoying each other's company and kept repeating what a loving family we had. I thanked her profusely, and Heath sat there beaming like only a proud daddy can.

Fast forward 30 minutes.

Eilidh had a meltdown in the checkout line-up such as I have never seen before. SHE didn't get anything at Ikea. It wasn't fair. She wanted something. KAITLYN was getting something (paid for with her own money), KEELEY was getting something (oooh....a 3 dollar potty chair), and then great stomping of the feet ensued. We carted her off to the van, screaming and stomping her feet, and with Keeley demanding to get out of the stroller.

Heath was trying to get Keeley in the van and I was trying to get Eilidh to stop screaming. Toys were falling out of the van. Patrick was arguing with Heath as to why he had to phone his friend RIGHT AT THIS VERY MOMENT and not when we got home. Kaitlyn was trying to load her breakable purchases into the van without all the recycling that I forgot to take back rolling out onto the vast Ikea parking lot.....a fair bit of it being beer bottles. They breed. I swear.

And amidst all this chaos, I looked up, and there was that little old lady who couldn't stop gushing about my wonderful family, looking gobsmacked. Out of that entire vast parking lot of Ikea, she had to be parked IMMEDIATELY in front of our van and getting into her car at the exact moment we were.

She just stood there. Watching the insanity. She wasn't smiling. I avoided eye contact.

I had a cider when we got home and took comfort in the fact that for a brief moment in time, my family was loving. And lovely. I'll take what I can get.

My Mom

My Mom has breast cancer.

There. I said it. I've written about the fact that someone close to me has cancer, but wasn't able to say who it was because...well....she has a public type job and it wasn't my place to put it out there on a public forum such as this.

But the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, and I have to say that there's relief in it. So many friends and acquaintances have emailed and contacted me in the last day to let me know they and their families are praying for my Mom, it's mind boggling. And wonderful. And comforting.

It is amazing to read and hear about other moms who have fought this disease and WON. It helps so much to remember to focus on the positive, trust in God, and be reminded that He is still in control.

I love my mom. I know she can win this fight. It's wonderful to have the support of prayers from so many people.

Thanks.

Chapter 4

That would be a picture of my glasses.

The picture is a bit blurry as it's taken without the aide of my glasses.

Heath thought he was pretty funny.

Not bad, dear, not bad.

I'm sure that's the end of this little game, sweetheart. You won. You're the champ. It's done. You have the victory. Waving my little white flag here. Honest.

The Incontinent Dog Versus the Two Year Old

At one point today, I found myself having a little conversation in my head.

"Am I cleaning up two year old pee or 14 year old dog pee? Should it matter? Is it grosser to clean up dog urine than little girl pee.....dog pee I think...this must be Keeley's...I'll just believe it's Keeley's so it's not quite so gross. This has to be Keeley's...what the...what's THIS puddle?? Didn't I just let the dog out? Didn't Keeley just sit on the potty? Did the timer go off and I didn't hear it? Should I be setting the timer for the dog? Is this what my life has come to.....cleaning up after assorted beings with limited bladder control?"

That's a rhetorical question. You don't have to answer it for me. I do worry that I ask myself so many questions. Do you think that's odd? The asking myself questions, not the worrying.

On what I thought was a different note today, I succumbed to Eilidh's nagging to get a fish. Eilidh had the bowl on the kitchen counter, admiring the fish's rainbow beautifulness, when it uh....pooped. There I was, with a spoon, scooping out fish poop from its bowl, the fish thrashing around quite grotesquely I may add.

Fish poop is worse than incontinent 14 year old dog and 2 year old Keeley pee. No doubt.

A Potty Update

I know you are all on the edge of your seat, awaiting the latest details of the day.

It started off well. It was good overall. She's starting to figure it out.

Until we were sitting at the dinner table. Kaitlyn said, "Why is there a puddle under Keeley's seat?"

To which Keeley responded, "RUN!! RUN!!" and then went back to eating her spaghetti.

Potty Party

Excitement is in the air.

We're in the midst of a party here. Keeley was playing, I was puttering, Patrick was pouting (another blog for another day), Kaitlyn was primping and Eilidh was prone on the couch when we heard a little voice proclaim, "Poop Mommy! Poop! Quick! RUN! RUN!!"

You have never seen me move so fast. Keeley and I raced to the bathroom and success ensued.

And Keeley got a treat. A big treat. An entire cupcake with icing and sprinkles. There were high fives and cheers and big girl panties put on to Keeley with great ceremony. (For the record, she chose the monkey ones over the butterflies.)

I've been changing diapers off and on for 16 and a half years. When I had my own children out of diapers, I was changing the diapers of day care children. I have potty trained no less than 11 children including 3 with autism.

This is a glorious day. GLORIOUS I tell you.

A Happy Moment

I was going to start griping about something but decided that the day was too bright and sunny for complaints.

So I will share a lovely moment.

"Horsie!"

Ah, to be two and find the greatest joy in moments like this. I need to remember to savour the moments that God gives us. It's not about big bank accounts or fancy houses. Enjoy life, not just persevere.

I cannot find any joy in my messy house at the moment but I shall overlook the disarray and remember that it is messy because I've been blessed with children and summertime fun. School and schedules will be back before we know it.

I shall enjoy this day....but I probably won't look as cute as Keeley doing it.

Chapter 3

If you're late in the game, read the first two installments.



http://http//mahoneymusings.blogspot.com/2008/07/simple-solution.html



http://http//mahoneymusings.blogspot.com/2008/07/chapter-2.html



Biding my time to inflict my revenge was the most difficult part.

I'm watching my back.

Happiness is Creativity Without the Need for HTML

Today I turned this:

Into this:

All without having to deal with HTML.

Oh happy day.

Have I Mentioned How Much I Hate HTML?

I want to change the look of my blog and have been 'researching' how to customize it. I shut it all down last night when my eyes started to bleed and I swore no less than 3 times at some lady blogger who told me it was as easy as pie (that should have been my first clue. Have you ever actually tried to make pie crust that didn't turn out to be 2 inches thick and tasted like you were eating gluey flour and water baked on high for 15 minutes? Easy as pie my a...).

I've been on all sorts of blogs that look like their owners most likely have 38 scrapbook photo albums for each of their children. (I have none....scrapbook albums, not kids. I have plenty of those.) And these bloggers swear they haven't paid someone to make their blogs all perfectly wonderful. I admit it. I have blogger's envy. Argh. They probably have perfect houses and perfect children too.

What have I gotten myself into? I started blogging as an outlet for frustrations, connect with family and friends, and just to be able to write and have some 'me' moments in my hectic life with four kids, two dogs and a husband (not necessarily in order of importance there). And now I'm worrying about 'my blog isn't as nice as her blog'?

Okay. Breathe. I do not want to change the look of my blog to compete with the 10 million other blogs in cyberspace. I want to change the look of my blog because I want to. I can picture it in my head but can't make the computer believe that's really what I want to do. The computer keeps laughing at me and thinks it's a game. "Oh, really? You want to widen those margins? 'Kay.....but that must mean you don't want this pesky side bar, here, so I'll just get rid of that for you."

Stupid HTML.

I'm begging for help. Don't make me have to go to blogging rehab. Don't make me take up scrap booking. Please....send me your links to stress free blogging designs. Send me info on how to have the upper hand with my computer. Is there a secret swear word I don't know about?

Epiphany. There's an underground secret code that all you HTML lovers know about, isn't there! All you HTML lovers know just where to insert that little code in amongst all that HTML gibberish. And then the computer sees that little secret code and says, "Ah, crap. Gotta listen to this one. They know what they're doing."

Give me the code. I won't tell anyone. Promise.

I'll bake you some pumpkin scones??

Chapter 2

I picked up my green toothbrush last night with glee. I did not have to think about which one was mine. Mine was the green one. Heath's was the one with red polka dots and curly yellow ribbon.

And as I swiped the green toothbrush across my teeth, I simultaneously said, "What the....", and looked in the mirror to see Heath laughing hysterically at me.

The bugger switched the 'decorations' from his toothbrush onto mine and I was brushing my teeth with HIS green toothbrush.

Game on, man. Game on.

A Simple Solution

Heath and I have been married for 19 years. 19 years and 2 1/2 months. And 17 days.

Heath needed a new toothbrush. He bought a new toothbrush. He bought a green toothbrush.

For 19 years, 2 1/2 months and 15 days, I've had a green toothbrush. Heath has whatever other coloured toothbrush his little heart desires to purchase. That deal was made 19 years ago. We can tell what toothbrush belongs to whom. Green is mine. His is whatever...I don't really care. Mine is green. The green one is mine.

As most of you might be aware, I'm a tad scattered in my thoughts of late. There's a bit on my mind. For two days now, every time I go to brush my teeth, I have to pause. I have to look at those two green toothbrushes and THINK about which one is mine. And it's completely driving me mad. Hey...the straw that broke the camel's back and all....

So, every problem has a solution. (Shoving a green toothbrush up Heath's nose flits across my mind as I'm looking at those two green toothbrushes in the holder, but really, although it may momentarily make me feel better, I'd still be looking at the end of a green toothbrush up his nose. Still oddly irritating in my mind.) So I've come up with a better solution.

No problem now. Mine's the green one.