No Kisses

Finally, after what feels like forever, I'm feeling better. Since I've been so run down and stressed I got not one, but two cold sores. So attractive. I want to hide in my house for a week. I'm embarrassed to even go to the coffee shop. I've been so busy that I've managed to hide behind my computer. Fortunately the awesome people that I work with have been delivering coffee and sustenance to keep me going.

I have been having a super hard time holding back the kisses to my girls. After few days of big hugs, I was struck by a revelation. I had not once stopped myself from planting a big one on my husband. While we are a touchy feely couple we are not kissy kissy. I think when I am healed, I'm going try and work on this. Kisses make everything better.

Since I am in hiding out mode, I received an advance copy of Petite Anglaise by Catherine Sanderson. I would love nothing more than to lounge in my backyard with a frosty beverage and devour this novel.

If you live in the Toronto area and would like your own copy email me at cmcreate[at]gmail[dot]com.

There is a bonus to this offer, as you will also get an invitation to a blogger's brunch launch party on Friday, June 6th. Say that three times fast and this is going to the first three people who are fast!

You can look for this book in stores as of June 17th and check out Catherine's blog petite anglaise.

The Terrorific Tantrum

We started the week with a rough start. As you will soon see, that is a magnificent understatement. I was convinced that my life had turned into an Adam Sandler comedy and I have been keeping an eye out for the camera crew. This story would be funny if I wasn’t so embarrassed by my daughter’s unruly behaviour. When it's this bad, you have to laugh.

Before dawn on Monday, Buttercup woke up crying out for orange juice. I filled her request and stood beside her bed. She sleepily smiled at me, pointed and said, “I don’t like you.” This was a warning sign of things to come.

Later that morning, I couldn’t get anything right. Buttercup was getting more agitated. She wanted cereal but after seeing Strawberry’s pancake, she changed her mind even though she was close to finishing her breakfast. When it came time to leave the house she broke out the waterworks and tried to run and hide from me. I had to carry her to the garage and go back to lock up the house. Back at the car she had upset Strawberry with her loud display of protest. I found them both in tears.

For the life of me I could not get her to sit in her car seat to do up her seat belt. I drove the car out of our garage so that I could park in the lane way in order to manipulate the little monster. While I was driving she reached from her seat behind me and wrapped her hands around my neck and started strangling me.

I quickly pulled over and got out of the car. Hysteria had set in. There was nothing that I could do to punish her without sending both girls into a state of horror. I couldn’t get Buttercup to calm down. I tried every trick that previously had worked and nothing was flying except for the snot.

About twenty-five minutes of this and I had only managed to do the top strap of her belt. Thinking this was going to be as good as it gets, I decided to drive. I could hear her struggling and Strawberry animatedly let me know that she had pulled a Houdini. I stopped on a side road and ding, ding, ding: round two begins.

Top strap done up, I pull away on to a main street to be met with the same fate. I pull over even though this street is a high traffic area. I take Buttercup out of the car where we stand by her door on the road. She wraps her legs around me and clings like glue. Somehow I get her back into her seat and we are motoring again.

I pull up to Strawberry’s school very tardy. While I’ve separated myself from this disaster scene, both my girls are distraught. I try to offer hugs but the fight continues. Buttercup is trying to run away from me so I pick her up like a football. One of Strawberry’s good friends happens to arrive at the same time and they hold hands all the way to the office to get their late slips.

After I’ve hugged my four year old and sent her off to learn all the wonders of Junior Kindergarten, I try again to calm down my two year old. We stand outside the school and I become the negotiator. I am talking her down with distraction tactics. Finally I win and she lets me carry her a few blocks to her daycare. Her face is nuzzled into my neck the whole way. After giving her plenty of hugs and kisses while I offer explanations regarding her state to the caregivers, she looks up to me with the weight of sadness in her eyes. She doesn’t want me to leave.

And so, began our week.

Surprisingly the next morning everyone was a picture of happiness.

I don’t know how much more of two that I can take.

Evidence

She came to the city.

So we showed her a good time.

We had to share stories.

We took this time to bond.

We might have had a couple drinks.

They graciously smiled while my flash blinded these lovelies.

One of the most popular drinks of the night was Perrier.

The memories will last longer this way and the photos are worth a million bucks!

Sorry that I didn't capture all the beauties!

(Kind of) Wordless Wednesday
More Wordless Wednesday Participants

The Red Folder

When I'm away from the office I like to imagine that the whole place is going to fall apart without me. Sometimes my self importance barely fits through the door! I hold my role with high regard and often need a pat on the back even if it is just me doing awkward yoga positions. I usually don't talk about work in this space so please excuse me while I butter up my very important career.

On the occasion when I have to call in sick, I worry about everyone at the office. I don't want the staff to feel overwhelmed yet I want everything to run smoothly like a well oiled machine. I have to consider that I have the executives to report to about my department.

I have long ago learned how to delegate but there are still certain tasks that I manage with a meticulous procedure. I have three immediate deadlines coming up on big projects and it was a rough time to be away. On Monday, I had to force myself through one task even though I was feeling completely ill. Once I completed my pressing responsibilities I made my way home. However, pushing myself on Monday made it next to impossible for me to move my germ ridden, weak body the next day.

While I recuperated there was still the nagging guilt of being away during a crunch period. On Wednesday I did not feel any improvement but I couldn't be away any longer. I dragged my sorry butt back to work. In my mind I had already began prioritizing my tasks. When I walked into my office I noticed a new red folder sitting beside my computer. My heart dropped. I was worried that another urgent project would have to be added to my list. I picked it up and it had my name written on it.

A huge sigh of relief! Maybe it's someone's birthday and this was just a card being circulated. Maybe there will be cake! I might have the flu but I can always enjoy a slice of chocolate celebration.

Little did I suspect upon opening the red folder that I was in for a real treat.

Oh, I love my work! Katharine is hilarious and I really think she should have her own blog. While I may have missed an impromptu visit from my boyfriend, John Mayer, I managed to get front row center tickets for the next time he's scheduled to come to Toronto! For real! Front row, center! Gah. I need to leash up my inner teenage girl hysteria.

By the way, did you know that I am part of a triple threat dishing up celebrity gossip in Binkywood? It is so much fun. Those crazy celebrities make it super easy for us. I'm such a geek that I really feel an overwhelming desire to comment on every single one of these gossip posts... "First!"

Plus it's just a hop, skip and jump over to a rockin Playdate. It's all new and shiny and the liquor is flowing!

The Death of Me

They know when we are weak. They sense it. They smell it. Their instincts hone in and they know their mission. Make mommy crack.

I shouldn’t really say they. I’m not referring to both of my lovely daughters. No Strawberry was listening to me with the utmost grace. It was Buttercup in all her terrible two-year-old toddler glory. She is well on her way to three so you could say she is an expert at these two-year-old shenanigans.

We had concert tickets to see Nada Surf but I had come down with the flu. We cancelled the sitter and Colin left me alone with the girls. I can barely move from the horizontal position. Every bone in my body throbs with intense awareness. My mind is so foggy that I see clouds in my living room. That could be the reason I agree to let them watch my nemesis, the My Little Pony video. Pinkypie shoots rainbows from her butt to save Unicornicopia. Good times.

The video ends and I turn the TV off. The lights are dimmed. Colin had suggested that they would easily fall asleep on the sofa while I surf the web. That would be easy like climbing Mount Everest, right?

Buttercup gets up from her chair and goes to the corner. “I don’t like you Mommy.” She hides behind the furniture and starts pretend sobbing looking for a reaction. I take Strawberry to the kitchen to wash the unknown, unnerving rash that has recently broken out on her face. Buttercup continues to throw her tantrum. I tell her we are going upstairs and that she can come too. She however is enjoying her emotional release behind the furniture and decides to carry on.

I tuck Strawberry in bed. I make my way back down to the screaming banshee in the living room. I lure Buttercup out with her favourite thing in the whole world. Orange juice. The crying turns into whimpering. I know that the juice is not a great idea being that she’s had an upset stomach but it was the only thing she’d fall for. She tells me that she’s made another poo. “A Big One.” She doesn’t want to go upstairs because that means bedtime and there is no tricking her. She’s back to full on scream crying as I carry her up the stairs. As we go by Strawberry’s room I can see that she’s already fallen asleep. The protesting wails do not disturb her.

I clean Buttercup and give her new pajamas. I put her in her bed and let her cry. You’d think a few minutes of this would tire her out and she would be fast on her way to la la land but no.

Before the neighbors call child services I go back in. I try to calm her down and I rock her and sing and she thankfully turns down the volume on her sobbing. I see that there is no way that she’s going to sleep any time soon. I know that there is no fight in me so I gather up her most loved stuffed animals her pink kitty Curtsy and her panda bear Shanghai. I take the orange juice that she has not yet sipped and we head downstairs. Normally at this point we would curl up on my bed where I’d fall asleep before her but I figure that my room is infected with one million flu germs and the last thing that I need is for this bug to infect my whole family.

I resign that we will watch some television. Hopefully all the hooking up that’s going on at Paradise Hotel won’t scar her for life. Buttercup is restless and she’s fidgeting around. She’s singing commercials. Pretty much she’s doing everything she can to keep herself awake. I’m fading. My patience has disintegrated. I need sleep but what do I do with this ball of energy? She tells me that she’s made another big one. I carry her back upstairs. I wipe away the explosion; a new diaper; a third pair of pajamas. I tell her to stay in her bed and I’ll be right back.

I take my time in the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of apple juice and took some nighttime cold pills. I can hear Buttercup calling for me. Every other child in the entire world has been asleep for hours. I go back to her.

I hold her and I sing a few lullabies. I tuck her into her toddler bed. I snuggle her stuffed animals in next to her. She throws them out of her bed. Buttercup begs to go back downstairs. I insist that it’s bedtime and that mommy is going to bed too. She asks for daddy. Finally she shows the first signs that she might be ready for slumber. I leave her cooing and go to my room where I fall into a deep sleep myself.