<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:31:46.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother Hood</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-115042364103637944</id><published>2006-06-15T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T19:07:21.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls Night Out</title><content type='html'>Last Night I went out on the town...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, ok, I just went to a restaurant down the road but, there was wine, good food,  and pleasant conversation.  And, no one under the age of 20.  And, no husbands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention there were NO kids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an end of year party for the group that organizes the excercise classes I have been taking.  I was a bit nervous since I didn't know these women very well.  I convinced a friend to come with me but, I had nothing to worry about because we were soon chatting with all the women sitting within earshot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the women is the mom from my 8yo's elementary school class.  When she told me her daughter's name I realized she's the girl my son has a crush on.  He drew a picture of her daughter, Maddy locked up in a tree house and him coming to save her. (just like his dad, he wants to be superman) And I have another page where he wrote "Maddy's Lovers". We all had a good chuckle about young love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was quite happy we got there when we did because I found a seat next to the organization's daycare manager.  All the day courses include free childcare, without which I would not be able to take a class.  Obviously this makes the courses and the daycare very popular.  When I signed up the first time, I was not sure it would work out.  The center is a 15 minute drive away and in the winter with coats and boots and getting the kids ready and finding parking and carrying the babies and my bag with my workout gear (including weights) and the kids stuff I thought it might just be too much hastle to get to the class. If my kids (1yo and 2yo) cried everytime I dropped them off, I would have used that as my excuse not to go.  However, this did not happen.  The daycare staff, especially the manager (that I was lucky enought to sit next to last night) were amazing.  My kids loved it so much, my 2yo would ask all the time to go to "gym day" and my 1yo started doing the hand gestures for the wheels on the bus that they sang at daycare.  So, thanks to them, I had no excuse not to work out! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to get the  chance to tell her how much my kids enjoy going to their "gym day" and I got to know her a bit better.  It turns out her youngest son is graduating from the same high school my daughter attends. Since her kids are older than mine, I asked her for advice on everything fron driver's licences to summer jobs.  Her kids are lifeguards and my daughter has her bronze cross and bronze medalion so she could lifeguard next summer.  We talked the (too tight, too skimpy) bathing suits they wear and the parties they go to and how she got them  home at a decent hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have babies and teens I have issues in common with most moms whether they are new mom's with little kids, elementary school volunteers or frustrated parents of teens so I talked to many of the women there and only a couple of jaws dropped when they heard I have 5. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a really pleasant evening. It just made me aware that I've got to get out more.  Not that my virtual internet friends aren't great, you are but, I don't know that it would be so healthy for me to polish off bottles of wine while I sit in my basement clicking away on my keyboard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-115042364103637944?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/115042364103637944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=115042364103637944' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/115042364103637944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/115042364103637944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/06/girls-night-out.html' title='Girls Night Out'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-115007444519142800</id><published>2006-06-11T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T18:07:25.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Huge Map and gardening</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/1600/political_classic_325w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/320/political_classic_325w.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we completed a few things that have been on my to do list for too long.  We put up the map my husband bought me for Christmas.  I asked for a map that we could put up in the dining room so we could start showing the kids where things are in the world.  I really don't think they teach enough global geography in school.  They focus too much on North America.  Anyway, I thought he would get me an inexpensive  map about the size of a piece of Bristol board (2X3) Instead he bought me this huge(4X6) plastic laminated National Geographic Map.  It was supposed to be $100 but he got it for the low low price of $60.  It's great except, we didn't know how to put it up on the wall.  We tried fun-tac but, that wasn't strong enough.  We taped it up with clear plastic tape but, after a few days it would slowly curl up and fall down.  So, It was in the corner of our bedroom all rolled up for months.  Today, my husband cut some molding to make a frame and we nailed (and glued) it onto the wall.  We just stand in front of it and look at it.  There are so many countries I've never heard of and I was way off in where I thought New Guinea is.  I'm going to learn so much thanks to my man and his HUGE map.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the afternoon it finally, stopped raining.  It's been raining here for days and the past few weekends have been rainy too, so we didn't get our little vegetable garden planted.  Before you thing I am a real gardener, let me tell you, we have two 4'X4' garden boxes that we plant a few store bough vegetable plants in.  It's mostly to show the kids where vegetables actually come from.  We have fun watching them grow and picking a fresh cucumber for dinner once in a while.  We usually plant cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers and some lettuce.  What do you plant?  What works well?  What's really easy to grow so even a hopeless suburbanite like me can grow it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two of the kids went to birthday parties today.  One was a gymnastics party, the other laserquest.  Both expensive.  The laserquest on, there was 14 kids.  It must have cost a small fortune.  When I went to pick my son up they were enjoying the pool and the hot tub spa.  I took a peak in the house, all nicely renovated and decorated. It makes me feel like we're missing something.  My husband makes a good salary how can they afford SO MUCH more?  Ok, ok I don't really want to keep up with the Jones's it's just...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-115007444519142800?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/115007444519142800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=115007444519142800' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/115007444519142800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/115007444519142800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/06/huge-map-and-gardening.html' title='Huge Map and gardening'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114969873668571972</id><published>2006-06-07T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T09:49:17.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>End of the world</title><content type='html'>I didn't post on my blog yesterday because I figured, what's the point?  The world is going to end because the date is 06/06/06.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here we are a day later and the apocalypse didn't happen. Oh darn, I guess that means I have to do the laundry too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always amazed when people read way too much into dates.  For me, any day is just another day.  You don't need to call me on my birthday or get together on Christmas day, any day will do.  Being the child of divorced parents, it really bothered me when one of my parents would get mad and sulk because I didn't chose to spend a special day with them.  How did I solve this dilemma?  I don't spend any special days with either one of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit though, I am guilty of saving things for a special day.  I buy fancy candles and save them for a special occasion.  Then I forget where I stored them and find them melted two years later.  Or I wait to get my hair cut until I have something special to do, then my hair gets way too long, I get frustrated, cut my bangs myself and THEN go to the hairdresser.  But the worst thing I save for special occasions are the loving words I want to say to my husband and my kids.  I think of all the touching things I will write or say to them when it's their birthday or graduation or fathers day but when those days actually come we are usually too busy or I don't know how to say it just right.  The 'special' days pass with true feelings again unsaid or if I do say them, the special days are not frequent enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband is the opposite.  I can't ever buy candles for a special occasion without hiding them because he'll use them every day.  I think his way is better.  So, tonight I'm lighting some candles and having a special ordinary family dinner. If I owned good china I'd use it. And I'm going to remind each member of my family how much they mean to me today and every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about you? Do you save the good bath salts for a special occasion?  Have they grown dusty on the shelf in the bathroom?  Come on, join me and use them on this special day.  After all, it's the day afetr the end of the world!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114969873668571972?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114969873668571972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114969873668571972' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114969873668571972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114969873668571972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/06/end-of-world.html' title='End of the world'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114956125123361094</id><published>2006-06-05T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T07:40:28.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baseball</title><content type='html'>Baseball is as American as apple pie but, I'm not American. I'm Canadian. Not that I don't enjoy a nice slice of apple pie now and then. I also eat tarte aux sucre and tortiere things that you may not find in some all american towns.  We're not huge baseball fans here in Montreal since the Expos went south but, tonight I went to a baseball game.  My 8yo son's first game.  It was great. Maybe a little long, and no our team did not win.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first few innings it looked like we were gonna get whooped 25 - 0.  Then one player on our team hit the ball and then another and another until we finally got one run.  Two more made it home and it was our son's turn to bat.  He is the smallest kid on his team, even smaller than the girls.  It is his first time playing baseball so he barely knows the rules let alone how to hit the ball.  I was nervous for him.  I didn't want him to be the first kid to strike out this inning.  The bases were loaded, if he could just hit the ball and make it to first their team might score.  He swung and missed. I kept my mouth shut.  I know he didn't need anyone shouting out how to hit the ball.  Especially me, I doubt I could hit it either. He missed again then, on the next pitch he hit it.  No he didn't hit a home run, he barely tapped it halfway to the pitcher but, in the confusion to see where the ball went he made it to first and another kid made it home.  Our team struck out before my son made it home but, I could see on his face how happy he was just to have hit the ball and made it on base.  And did I mention the other team was huge.  I think some of the kids had mustaches!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've read other blogs where mom's complain about how long the games are, how long the season is and how much time it takes up and I'm sure I'll feel that way too but, tonight was such a pleasure.  Seeing the look of pride on his little face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114956125123361094?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114956125123361094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114956125123361094' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114956125123361094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114956125123361094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/06/baseball.html' title='Baseball'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114912113384470124</id><published>2006-05-31T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T17:18:53.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh pity me</title><content type='html'>As if no microwave were not bad enough.  I now have NO AIR CONDITIONING in the van.  We don't have air conditioning at home so sometimes when it's really hot I load up the kids into the van and drive off to the mall but now, getting in the van is almost unbearable.  My dear husband has gone off to canadian tire to see if he can get stuff to fix it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are people starving in the world.  Our environment is being poisoned by toxic gasses from our over dependance on fosil fuels.  Refugees are forced to flee their homes in fear, they live in tents and stand in line for water if they are lucky.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I am regaining perspective.  I have it so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say it with me "We have it so good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do to maintain awareness of those truly in need?&lt;br /&gt;Do you read or watch the news?&lt;br /&gt;If some international crisis catches your attention do you research to find out what you can do to help?&lt;br /&gt;Do you regularly support charitable organizations?&lt;br /&gt;How much do you know about the organizations you support?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I could do something tangible with my children to make them aware of what life is like for those less fortunate than us.  We help with Christmas baskets for the needy. We always donate our old clothes, toys and things to a place that gives them to those in need.  We give to our church and we gave money and school supplies to help to build a school in Malawi.  It still does not seem like enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114912113384470124?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114912113384470124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114912113384470124' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114912113384470124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114912113384470124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/oh-pity-me.html' title='Oh pity me'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114904506805607721</id><published>2006-05-30T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T20:11:08.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Green Thumb</title><content type='html'>To those of you who complain that any plant you touch dies.  Please come to my house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I have some weeds you can touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love gardening but, the weeds are taking over my lawn.  I never used those evil pesticides/herbicides when they were legal.  Now that they've been banned I wish I had used them.  I think the only solution is to dig up my whole lawn and start over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114904506805607721?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114904506805607721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114904506805607721' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114904506805607721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114904506805607721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/green-thumb.html' title='Green Thumb'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114892702452828389</id><published>2006-05-29T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T11:23:44.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh how I've been negelecting you dear internet</title><content type='html'>I'm treating you like I treat my real life friends.  I'm ignoring you and not answering the phone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my defense let me just say we still have no microwave.  Can you forgive me now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a busy weekend.  My husband had his first rugby game of the season, my son had his first communion and I took the kids to Finnigan's (local flea/antique market) for the firsat time this year.  The weather was lovely and we had a very nice weekend although it was quite busy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My oldest came back from her Manitoba exchange trip on Sunday.  She had a good time.  She got bit by a tick so now I'm worried about lime disease.  She didn't call us much while she was away.  I'm sure she missed us terribly, NOT. I'll have to develop her pictures to see what she did while she was away.  The other kids missed her.  Especially the baby who is quite attached to my oldest.  My 7yo daughter missed her older sister when she was asked to help with the baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to my bodyshaping class today.  It was tough because it's not air conditioned so it was HOT.  I must have sweat away a couple of pounds.  You know the ones I put on when we had people over after my son's first communion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:right;" src="http://www.arnettslaboutique.com/images/products/Girls/FirstCommunion/Collection1/f505bg.jpg" border="0" width="150" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what's with the full length embroydered and beaded wedding dresses and viels for first communion?  Is it just me that thinks it's a bit much?  I mean I want them to have a nice dress too but, they're not getting married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to do some more planting and enjoy the nice weather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114892702452828389?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114892702452828389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114892702452828389' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114892702452828389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114892702452828389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/oh-how-ive-been-negelecting-you-dear.html' title='Oh how I&apos;ve been negelecting you dear internet'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114856357274543962</id><published>2006-05-25T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T06:26:12.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Email to my husband</title><content type='html'>I never knew how much you meant to me.&lt;br /&gt;Many times every day, I turn to you&lt;br /&gt;You help me and make everything so much easier.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes all I need to do is glance at you,&lt;br /&gt;and you would tell me what I need to know.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But, now all that is over...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I miss you...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;... microwave.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;How am I going to warm up the soup for dinner??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the email I sent to my husband the day after my microwave died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course that is the reason I've been absent from blogging.  I have to warm up bottles and defrost chicken the old fashioned way.  It's extremely time consuming.  (joking)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to catch up I'll write what I've been up to. Oh, who am I kidding, I never do anything exciting I've been busy with laundry and dishes and when it wasn't raining I was trying to plant some flowers.  Wild and crazy I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now I'm off to catch up on everyone else's much more interesting goings on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114856357274543962?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114856357274543962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114856357274543962' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114856357274543962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114856357274543962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/email-to-my-husband.html' title='Email to my husband'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114779699356241365</id><published>2006-05-16T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T09:29:53.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged?</title><content type='html'>So I was tagged and then I lost my head along with my username and password so, I'm really behind.  Big behind, no head don't I look attractive today! Kinda like Beatlejuice remember him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ACCENT: Canadians don't have accents Aye?&lt;br /&gt;BIBLE BOOK THAT I LIKE: Any one with pictures &lt;br /&gt;CHORE I DON'T CARE FOR: Dishes, laundry, dishes, laundry, dishes...&lt;br /&gt;DOG OR CAT: Dog, unfortunably I'b alergic atchoo&lt;br /&gt;ESSENTIAL ELECTRONICS: my PC. I'm not a gadget person&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE COLOGNE: White Musk - Body shop &amp; Lilly of the Valley - Crabtree &amp; Evelyn  GOLD OR SILVER: Silver&lt;br /&gt;HANDBAG I CARRY MOST OFTEN: never carry one. drives my hubby crazy I think I'll buy him one!&lt;br /&gt;INSOMNIA: Zzzzzz only when babies sleep in my bed&lt;br /&gt;JOB TITLE:  Which job?&lt;br /&gt;KIDS: 15yo girl, 8yo boy, 7yo girl, 2yo boy, 1yo girl&lt;br /&gt;LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: Me, my hubby and 5 kids in a 5 bedroom fixerupper in the burbs.&lt;br /&gt;MOST ADMIRABLE TRAIT: Perseverance?&lt;br /&gt;NAUGHTIEST CHILDHOOD BEHAVIOR:  lying&lt;br /&gt;OVERNIGHT HOSPITAL STAYS:  Hate staying in the hospital.  I beg to leave asap after delivering my babies but, they make you stay 24 hours.  Had my apendix out when I was 4 months pregnant - 5 days in hospital.  Had a kidney infection during same pregnancy 2 days in hospital.&lt;br /&gt;PHOBIAS: I hate crowded places. Especially when I have my kids with me.&lt;br /&gt;QUOTE: “It is no small thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.” Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;RELIGION:  Not raised with any religion but, my husband is Catholic and I wish I could be too.&lt;br /&gt;SIBLINGS:  1 older sis, 1 younger half-sister.&lt;br /&gt;TIME I WAKE UP:  sometime before 7:00AM&lt;br /&gt;UNUSUAL TALENT OR SKILL:  I know all kinds of useless trivia.  &lt;br /&gt;VEGETABLE I REFUSE TO EAT: Love vegetables except salty mushy canned peas and beans.&lt;br /&gt;WORST HABIT:  Eating when I'm bored.X-RAYS: Too many to count&lt;br /&gt;YUMMY STUFF I COOK: Tortellini, Chicken pot pie, cookies, brownies, pecan buns, etc. etc better stop or I'll start eating!&lt;br /&gt;ZOO ANIMAL I LIKE MOST:  penguins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stekel.org/"&gt;Jeep Mom&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://threedarlingsmomma.blogspot.com/"&gt;Tyra&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://kidsnmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shel&lt;/a&gt;---TAG, you're IT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114779699356241365?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114779699356241365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114779699356241365' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114779699356241365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114779699356241365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/tagged.html' title='Tagged?'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114771275001417636</id><published>2006-05-15T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T10:05:50.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mindless</title><content type='html'>Just after I wrote the post about how absent minded I have been lately, I set up a blog for another project I work on and I lost my username and password to this one.  I used their forgot username form, entering in the two possible email addreesses I could have used and I didn't get an email even though blogger said they sent one.  So I wracked my brain trying to figure out what my username could possibly be.  It only took a couple of days for me to get the (many by then) emails from blogger.  So, I am back.  And obviously still completely empty upstairs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114771275001417636?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114771275001417636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114771275001417636' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114771275001417636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114771275001417636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/mindless.html' title='Mindless'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114727545327656629</id><published>2006-05-10T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T08:39:43.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Young To Be Senile</title><content type='html'>I was slammed with work yesterday.  I went to my sister's award shindig on Monday so yesterday work was hounding me.  My work can be very tedious.  It is like a puzzle with really tiny pieces and you really need to focus to figure it out.  I have really been having a hard time thinking lately so trying to wade through 1000 words to find the one little problem that has the whole thing broken is next to impossible right now.  I don't know if I can keep it up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worried though that if I stop working completely my brain is going to turn to mush.  NOT saying that moms who don't work have mush for brains!  It's me.  Lately I have started to stutter which I never did before.  It's like the words are all floating in my head and I can't get them out.  I have a hard time focusing.  Last night my husband wanted to discuss The Chrysalids a book we both just read because my 15yo had to read it for school.  I drew a complete blank.  I remembered the book but I could not put one cohesive thought together.  My head was empty.  I just stared at him and said he'd have to ask me some other time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I shoud see a doctor but, I am quite sure they will say it's stress.  I'm not feeling all that stressed though.  There have been many other times when I was REALLY stressed and I didn't have these problems.  I'm to young to go senile!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114727545327656629?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114727545327656629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114727545327656629' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114727545327656629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114727545327656629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/too-young-to-be-senile.html' title='Too Young To Be Senile'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114713246969058107</id><published>2006-05-08T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T16:54:29.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations Big Sis</title><content type='html'>My big (well actually she's much smaller than me) sister just won an &lt;a href="http://www.meq.gouv.qc.ca/chapeau/"&gt;award&lt;/a&gt; for women pursuing careers in non-traditional trades.  She is taking a course in cabinetmakers.  Today I attended the swank awards show.  Just like the Oscars only... well... not much like the Oscars but, they did have fancy trophies.  She also won $2000.  Woo Hooo!  Way to go big sis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the Awards there was cocktails and nibbles and my sister introduced me to some people from her school.  I am introduced as my-sister-who-has-FIVE-kids.  So of course there are the usual comments and questions; You're brave, how old are they (15,8,7,2,1), etc.  Then, I mentioned that I wish they had had this contest 12 years ago when I was one of two girls in my computer programming course.  One of the women said "Do you work?" (what woman with 5 kids doesn't?)  I said "Yes, I work from home"  She said "Oh good"  with a sound of relief in her voice.  Yes, heaver forbid I waste my education and chose to be "just" a stay at home mom.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mommy wars are still on.  Very sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kudos to my sis though!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114713246969058107?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114713246969058107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114713246969058107' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114713246969058107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114713246969058107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/congratulations-big-sis.html' title='Congratulations Big Sis'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114678938471497548</id><published>2006-05-04T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T17:41:12.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life on the Frontier</title><content type='html'>American Idol may be the most popular reality TV show right now but, I've found one I'm addicted to.  It's &lt;a href="http://www.pbs.org/wnet/ranchhouse/"&gt;Ranch House&lt;/a&gt; on PBS.  It is an reenactment of what life was like or a Texas Ranch in 1867.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:20px 10px 0 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/320/texas.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to participate in an experience like this.  I am sure it is very difficult to go from all the modern day conveniences to life before electricity but, it would be worth the discomfort.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody seen the show?  Would you do something like that.  Wouldn't it be an amazing experience for kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114678938471497548?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114678938471497548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114678938471497548' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114678938471497548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114678938471497548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/life-on-frontier.html' title='Life on the Frontier'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114658293818717788</id><published>2006-05-02T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T08:16:17.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids say the darndest things</title><content type='html'>"When I die, I'm going to ask to be able to fly like a bird for a few days.  Just for a few days though because by then I'd start to get hungry and I'm not going to eat worms.  Maybe if I could find I doughnut I'd eat a doughnut.  Birds can eat doughnuts can't they?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids say the funniest things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is even funnier though because it was not one of my kids that said it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my husband!  Who is of course, just a big kid.  That's one of the reasons I love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       *******************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bodyshaping class started again yesterday (I am so sore today) I am also proud to report that we biked to church on Sunday and we went for a rollerrblade along the Lachine canal on Sunday night.  Also, last night instead of driving over to the post office to mail our taxes (at the very last minute!) my Dh and I biked.  I am really trying to get in the habit of doing some physical activity everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm off to clean the cherry tomatoes that are All.Over.My.Kichen. The baby just found out how much fun they are to stomp on.  Then she found out how she will get an early nap-time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114658293818717788?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114658293818717788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114658293818717788' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114658293818717788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114658293818717788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/05/kids-say-darndest-things.html' title='Kids say the darndest things'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114622577762879004</id><published>2006-04-28T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T05:02:57.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Move Over Richie Cunningham</title><content type='html'>My 8yo son has started directing movies.  He places all the neighbourhood kids, tells them their lines, describes the special effects required for the shot and calls "Action".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love watching their imaginative play.  And my son is so descriptive and creative. &lt;br /&gt;If he keeps this up maybe I will get my million dollars.  All he needs is a camera.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114622577762879004?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114622577762879004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114622577762879004' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114622577762879004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114622577762879004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/move-over-richie-cunningham.html' title='Move Over Richie Cunningham'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114610102367094575</id><published>2006-04-26T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T18:44:36.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I had a Million Dollars</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="right" width="100%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td width="55%" valign="top"&gt;Every once in a while I like to imagine what we would do if we won the lottery. I am sure most people think about this. I start of course with the practical, max out our RRSPs, pay off our mortgage, buy a new van... Then there is the long list of home improvements, new roof (which we have to get this year even if we don't win the 6/49) new windows, garage door, renovate the kitchen, the upstairs batroom... Maybe even build a second floor and put in a fireplace but, when I start thinking about what I would really want in a house I realize if we had the money, we wouldn't be living in this house. I'd want one with more land, more privacy, maybe by the water and definitely we'd want it to be big enough to entertain our ever growing extended family. The question then becomes where would this dream house be? I mean with our millions we could decide to move to somewhere warm or live in the mountains or... That's about as far as I get before I realize, I don't want things to change that much. I like our life here. I like living close to my husband's family and I like that our lives are pretty simple. I don't know how much I'd want my life to change even if I had a million dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess we would give a lot of it away, and share the rest with family and keep our life like it is. Just a little less stress about paying for the roof and the van, that's what I'd like. I'd take a million dollars though. Iguess I'd have to actually buy a lottery ticker first hun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about you? Would your life change completely?&lt;br /&gt;I just love the Bare Naked Ladies.  They're so Canadian Eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td width="45%" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; color: #003377; text-align: justify; line-height: 10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I Had A Million Dollars&lt;br /&gt;by Barenaked Ladies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;I'd buy you a house&lt;br /&gt;(I would buy you a house)&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;I'd buy you furniture for your house&lt;br /&gt;(Maybe a nice chesterfield or an ottoman)&lt;br /&gt;And if I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd buy you a K-Car&lt;br /&gt;(A nice Reliant automobile)&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars I'd buy your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;I'd build a tree fort in our yard&lt;br /&gt;If I had million dollars&lt;br /&gt;You could help, it wouldn't be that hard&lt;br /&gt;If I had million dollars&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we could put like a little tiny fridge in there somewhere&lt;br /&gt;You know, we could just go up there and hang out&lt;br /&gt;Like open the fridge and stuff&lt;br /&gt;There would already be laid out foods for us&lt;br /&gt;Like little pre-wrapped sausages and things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have pre-wrapped sausages but they don't have pre-wrapped bacon&lt;br /&gt;Well, can you blame 'em&lt;br /&gt;Uh, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd buy you a fur coat&lt;br /&gt;(But not a real fur coat that's cruel)&lt;br /&gt;And if I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd buy you an exotic pet&lt;br /&gt;(Like a llama or an emu)&lt;br /&gt;And if I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd buy you John Merrick's remains&lt;br /&gt;(All them crazy elephant bones)&lt;br /&gt;And If I had a million dollars I'd buy your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;We wouldn't have to walk to the store&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;Now, we'd take a limousine 'cause it costs more&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;We wouldn't have to eat Kraft Dinner&lt;br /&gt;But we would eat Kraft Dinner&lt;br /&gt;Of course we would, we’d just eat more&lt;br /&gt;And buy really expensive ketchups with it&lt;br /&gt;That’s right, all the fanciest ke... dijon ketchups!&lt;br /&gt;Mmmmmm, Mmmm-Hmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd buy you a green dress&lt;br /&gt;(But not a real green dress, that's cruel)&lt;br /&gt;And if I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd buy you some art&lt;br /&gt;(A Picasso or a Garfunkel)&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars &lt;br /&gt;(If I had a million dollars)&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'd buy you a monkey&lt;br /&gt;(Haven't you always wanted a monkey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;I’d buy your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;I'd be rich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114610102367094575?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114610102367094575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114610102367094575' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114610102367094575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114610102367094575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/if-i-had-million-dollars.html' title='If I had a Million Dollars'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114598517921619466</id><published>2006-04-25T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T10:17:54.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My son IS Batman</title><content type='html'>Whenever my son is afraid, he is Batman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example: "There's monster out side, I Batman"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally taught him to say his own name. Before he would say everybody else's name but if you asked him what his name is, he'd say "Me". As soon as he learned his own name though, he decided to change it. Now when people ask "What is your name?" He says "I Batman"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How old is he? Two (his age) or eight (his brothers age) or tweight (to cover all the bases) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is ready to "go out pactice baseball" all the time. Even when it's raining "IT"S WARM OUTSIDE" he yells and then continues his mantra "I ready go out pactice BASEBAAAALLLL!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And go out he does. He figured put how to open the front door on his own, so I started locking it. This morning when I was putting laundry from the washer into the dryer my neighbor from across the street call down to me. Apparently he has figured out the lock and he went over to her house to show her his ball. Tonight my husband will be installing a chain way.up.high on our front door. Before my neighbor's call child welfare because my babies are playing in the middle of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaahhhh. It's all good. He's such a cutie. Such a cute little Batman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114598517921619466?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114598517921619466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114598517921619466' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114598517921619466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114598517921619466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-son-is-batman.html' title='My son IS Batman'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114590140022894072</id><published>2006-04-24T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T18:50:00.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm no soccer mom</title><content type='html'>I was never big on sports, especially team sports. This may sound silly but, I think I was too polite for competitive team sports. I was always the smallest kid in my grade but, my biggest worry was hurting someone else. My most hated gym classes were floor hockey, broom ball and field hockey. Something about whacking at a hard ball with an even harder stick while in close proximity to other people made me dread these games. I was the one apologizing after I whacked a player from the opposing team in the shin. Oh, and I have no coordination. Throwing, catching I was never very good at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry that my kids will take after me. I don't want them to be the last picked for teams in gym. I want them to enjoy a game of ball hockey in the street or shoot hoops at the end of the driveway like the neighbor's kids. Unfortunately for my son, growing up in the suburbs of Montreal means all his friends spend three quarters of the year playing hockey. With 5 kids we do not have the time or the money to commit to the sport. The other part of the year is dedicated to soccer but, my son who is on the small side missed a couple of seasons and I fear now he is hopelessly unskilled where all the other kids have got all the moves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this summer my son decided to try baseball. Little did I know they start baseball at 5 so now my son is about 3 years behind and he has my knack for catching the ball. I can only cringe and look through the fingers of the hand that covers my eyes as the ball hits him in the nose. He has a huge glove all he has to do is move it in front of his face. There were no baseball moms there only baseball dad's with their own well worn gloves practicing with their sons. And me. Because my son's dad is a jock. A football MVP. Off playing rugby in Vermont while I take the boy tp baseball practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my husband plays rugby and my oldest daughter has started playing too. And my husband wants to take her along to his practices. Where the women on the girls rugby team are much older than her. And they will practice with her and be friendly to her and include her in their conversations about partying, living on their own, sex, drugs and... uh... NO. I have told my husband that before my baby (of 15 years who is at least 2 inches taller than me) goes to Rugby practice with him, he better remind these women that she is HIS BABY and they better remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other daughter, she's doing gymnastics. Every Saturday, I drop her off and pick her up 2 hours later. She always says she had a good time. That's all I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon it will be pool season with swim team, diving, water polo ans synchronized swimming. And rugby Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday which is probably going to be the same days as baseball. Can you believe I actually encourage them to sign up for sports?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114590140022894072?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114590140022894072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114590140022894072' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114590140022894072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114590140022894072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-no-soccer-mom.html' title='I&apos;m no soccer mom'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114554961346427379</id><published>2006-04-20T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T09:14:09.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Family Dinners</title><content type='html'>I had 25 people over on Sunday and the kids were off on Monday and Tuesday so I am just starting to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we spend all day cleaning before 15 kids come over and spill juice, jello and crumbs all over. Why do I make the kids clean and organize the playroom when 15 kids are going to come and take everything out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having large family dinners at our place for years now. I am better organized now than when we first started. Here are some things I &lt;s&gt;should&lt;/s&gt; do to make it go smoother:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have all the food ready including slicing the meat and making gravy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Use paper plates and plastic cups for the kids (they don't care).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Set the tables before people arrive. After they all start coming in I can't count right and we end up missing someone.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Buy lots of folding chairs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have a set of 20 dishes and wine glasses.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Buy lots of wine. Usually we have one family bring wine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Use plastic dessert plates.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Let everybody bring something. Usually they bring dessert and there is always too much dessert... Mmmm leftovers.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make veggies and dip and/or cheese and crackers and put it our for the kids before dinner. It's good to fill up on veggies and spoil your dinner.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make fruit salad to serve with dessert. Anyone watching their diet will appreciate it and if the kids eat nothing but chips and cookies at least you can feed them some fruit.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;(new this time) Clean under the sofa cushions because when the baby spits up all over the cushions and you have to remove them, everyone is going to see where you store the extra cherrios, toy cars, hair brush, etc...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am sure there is more I could do but, I can't think of it now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is a lot of work, and this time was more challenging than usual but, I love it. However as the family gets bigger (SIL is expecting again 21 grandkids 6 siblings 6 spouses) We often talk about how we are going to keep doing it. At Christmas we had a big dinner at a church hall. I thought it went very well but, some enjoyed it less. We still do a real sit down dinner. We could switch to a more buffet style but, it wouldn't be the same. We should start sitting the little kids first. I think we have done this in the past.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Any of you have big family get togethers? How do you manage it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114554961346427379?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114554961346427379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114554961346427379' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114554961346427379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114554961346427379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/big-family-dinners.html' title='Big Family Dinners'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114503773848733410</id><published>2006-04-14T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T18:25:39.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/1600/easter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/320/easter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Mrs. Grumpy pants is gone. Thank goodness. And don't come back soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Good Friday. We went on a walk with our church for the way of the cross. I hope to have time to take the kids to the farm to see the animals before we go to the poor man's supper at our church this evening. I have made leek soup Mmmmm to take for the dinner. I am also trying out the bread maker my sister in law gave us. And we have 30 people coming for dinner on Sunday And I need to have my house clean by then so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a lovely Easter Holiday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See I'm so much more cheerful now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114503773848733410?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114503773848733410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114503773848733410' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114503773848733410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114503773848733410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-easter.html' title='Happy Easter'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114489594597445317</id><published>2006-04-12T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T19:40:17.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Selfish Housewife</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://armyofseven.blogspot.com/2006/04/selfish-housewives.html#links"&gt;Far Beyond Pearls: Selfish Housewives&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are you a selfish housewife? Do you delight in doing for others without expecting anything in return. Do you put your own wants above the needs of others? Do you believe our highest calling is to serve others? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been a selfish housewife. Worse than that I've been a selfish mommy. Lately I've been grumpy. I have been begrudgingly doing the bare minimum for my kids. Fortunately the weather has been nice and they've all been enjoying the outdoors so they have not been very demanding. But, I've been short with them. I have not felt very loving towards them (or Dh either)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a cold and I haven't been feeling all that great but, that's no excuse. I need to snap out of my funk. I am not writing this to garner sympathy. I do not need more "me-time".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing this as a sort of time capsule. I'm going to seel up my selfish brooding self in this post. I am hoping with a little grace, grumpy me will stay stuck in here and I'll go to bed, get some rest and wake up tomorrow with a renewed vocation. That's vocation as in my vocation as a mother and wife, though a little vacation would be nice too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you think I'm quite nutty for trying to box myself up and post my grumpy ass to the internet, you're probably right. But, I'm hopeful. I'll let you know tomorrow if she (grumpy pants) is gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114489594597445317?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://armyofseven.blogspot.com/2006/04/selfish-housewives.html#links' title='Selfish Housewife'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114489594597445317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114489594597445317' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114489594597445317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114489594597445317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/selfish-housewife.html' title='Selfish Housewife'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114480714888686146</id><published>2006-04-11T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T18:59:08.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone to play golf...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/1600/Connor%20Golf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/320/Connor%20Golf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had much time... I've been working during nap time and in the evening. The rest of the time we've been out enjoying the spring!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114480714888686146?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114480714888686146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114480714888686146' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114480714888686146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114480714888686146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/gone-to-play-golf.html' title='Gone to play golf...'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114437682996309862</id><published>2006-04-06T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T19:27:09.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Ideas</title><content type='html'>I'm on a hunt, an Easter hunt, an Easter hunt for ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my oldest was young, she was an only child for a long time. We went overboard with holidays. We showered her with presents and activities. We even made up little rhyming clues that we hid all around the house. One clue led to another until she found her special Easter basket. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now with 5 though, we've scaled back some.  We hide little foil eggs all over, I decorate the dining room table and each child gets a small basket of summer toy (sand toys, bubbles, sidewalk chalk) This year though I thought it would be nice to get them the Chronicles of Narnia DVD.  I think I might ask the 15yo to make up clues for a hunt for the 8 &amp; 6yo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Easter is not Just about chocolate and bunnies it is a religous holiday.&lt;br /&gt;One of my kids favorite Easter events is the poor man's supper at our church and this year my 15yo is in the Passion Play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 6yo knows what Easter is all about. My 8yo son was making up a song... "Easter, Easter, Ooohhh, Easter bunny..." and my daughter said "What about the LORD? Easter is the day the LORD is coming back, we should sing about the LORD."  She just loooves theLORD and the Gospel music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what special Easter traditions do you have?  Any fun activities or ideas you'd like to share?  I'm no Martha Stewart I can use all the help I can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114437682996309862?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114437682996309862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114437682996309862' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114437682996309862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114437682996309862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/easter-ideas.html' title='Easter Ideas'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114428883757464808</id><published>2006-04-05T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T19:00:37.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Woke up on the wrong side of the bed...</title><content type='html'>...wish I could have stayed there all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not want to be the chief garbage picker-upper (baby got in the garbage and threw it all over) today. I didn't want to be the poopy changing, dish washing, mess cleaning, laundry lady today. I did not want to be the person all the kids whine at.  Why can't kids have a 6th sense.  The sense that mommy's going to lose it. It seems that the closer you are to the end of your rope, the more needy they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight, when my husband said he would be home late and my 15yo was on a field trip, I decided to take the four littles out to dinner. We picked up the 8yo from Catechism and I drovee across town to show them this huge house that has been lifted right off the ground.  There is a big hole under it so they can make a new foundation.  The kids thought it was cool.  Then we went to Scores (chicken place with big salad bar) called Dh and he was right around the corner, so he joined us for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm feeling much better. I really needed to take the kids out and watch them enjoy things for a while.  We did no homework and no cleaning up but, we accomplished a lot tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114428883757464808?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114428883757464808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114428883757464808' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114428883757464808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114428883757464808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/woke-up-on-wrong-side-of-bed.html' title='Woke up on the wrong side of the bed...'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114420190752246705</id><published>2006-04-04T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T18:51:47.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Smoking Van</title><content type='html'>Last week, back when there was no SNOW! It was almost spring here.  There was sunshine, flowers and kids playing out in the street.  The whole neighborhood seemed to emerge from hybernating through the winter.  It made me crave ice cream and popsicles or even better, creamsicles. Mmmm creamsicles... Uh what was I talking about? Oh yeah spring.  Time to while away the afternoons at the park then come home and throw something on the BBQ for dinner.  Until you realize there's no propane.  Then spring is the time to drive to three different gas stations trying to buy propane.  And while I'm driving around the van starts making a funny noise.  Kinda like the brakes aren't completely releasing.  Better head home to get Dh to check it out.  So I pull up in front of my house and go to remove the tank full of propane from the back of the van and I see the van is SMOKING. Alot. And I'm not the only one to notice.  As I said the whole neighborhood is out in front of my house to witness my brakes smoke for more than 15 minutes.  You know why this happened?  Because earlier that day I received a check in the mail.  As soon as money comes in something has to happen to make the money go out.&lt;br /&gt;I took the van in yesterday and $300 later I have ne cylinder something or others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{sigh}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday the kids were outside all day.  One of the cousins was over and the local kids all congregated at our place.  One of the moms from up the street came over and started raking our lawn.  I said to my husband, "Our house is That Bad, the neighbors are taking it upon themselves to clean it up so it doesn't negatively affect their propery values"  I'm ok with that.  Maybe they'll do our roof too.  No such luck. ;o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114420190752246705?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114420190752246705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114420190752246705' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114420190752246705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114420190752246705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/04/smoking-van.html' title='The Smoking Van'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114381011428910257</id><published>2006-03-31T04:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T05:01:54.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep</title><content type='html'>Last night I laid down on my bed to read at about 8:30 and fell asleep.  I slept all night.  This is not normal and it happened last week too.  My stomach has been feeling a bit queezy too.  Since I freak out at the slightest possibility, I peed on a stick this morning.  Only ONE line folks so number 6 is NOT on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be because of my circuit training class? Could all those situps be giving me a sore stomach?  Could it be making me this tired?  I thought excercise would give me more energy.  Of course yesterday I was too tired to make a good dinner so we BBQed hamburgers and ate them with carrots, cucumbers and chips (Sunchips they're multigrain doesn't that make them healthy?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I've been wiped out.  You'd think with spring and more sunshine I'd be pepping up a bit.  Maybe I should get out and walk more.  The kids are all going crazy and if I had my windows open I'm sure the neighbours would be thinking about calling 911 so I better go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114381011428910257?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114381011428910257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114381011428910257' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114381011428910257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114381011428910257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/sleep.html' title='Sleep'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114365414859150640</id><published>2006-03-29T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T09:42:28.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard in my circuit training class</title><content type='html'>"Hmmmph"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, jeeze"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uhgh"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said by me, whine, complain, grunt. Yep, I must look so attractive in the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instructor: "Only ten more seconds..."&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Instructor:"Five... Four..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Ugh, that's a really long five seconds!"  (I swear I have to buy the lady a stop watch)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instructor: "Ok, can anybody name me some of the stations in a circuit that you could do at home?"&lt;br /&gt;Other mom in the class: "The fridge, the sofa..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114365414859150640?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114365414859150640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114365414859150640' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114365414859150640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114365414859150640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/overheard-in-my-circuit-training-class.html' title='Overheard in my circuit training class'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114356410852764286</id><published>2006-03-28T08:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T08:41:48.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring and Work, work, work</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I watched two of my nephews.  They came over while the little ones were sleeping.  They went in to my 2yo's room to wake him up.  The look on his face was priceless.  He was so happy to see them once he figured out he wasn't dreamiing.  I took them all to the park.  All the snow has melted and the sand is not frozen so they all played in the sand, even the baby (1yo).  The sun was shining.  It was a lovely afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPRING! I love spring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted because I am swamped with work.&lt;br /&gt;The kids are napping now and I have to get back to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, this afternoon we are getting outside again.  I feel like a prisoner set free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114356410852764286?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114356410852764286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114356410852764286' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114356410852764286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114356410852764286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/spring-and-work-work-work.html' title='Spring and Work, work, work'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114321696498592167</id><published>2006-03-24T07:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T08:27:03.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Employment</title><content type='html'>It is that time of year when parents have to start thinking about what their kids are going to be doing all summer. My 15yo will want to earn some money this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place where I went on retreat hires girls to work in the kitchen, serve food, clean the rooms, work in the laundry. It would be a great opprotunity. They train them in all aspects of hotelerie. They learn the proper way to present and serve food, how to set tables, fold napkins, make beds, do laundry, etc etc. Unfortunately they hire their summer staff in January. We are too late. I am still going to take her with her C.V. to meet with the woman in charge but, I don't think she will get to work there this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is going on a Leadership course tomorrow to be a counselor at an all girls camp.  The camp is only for two weeks though, so what is she going to do for the rest of the summer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My SIL suggested the Dollar store is looking for people. I've seen the girls who work there. I don't want my daughter hangin' out with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past couple of years she has caddied at the Golf course but now she wants to work in the bag shop. I know what those kids are smokin' and I don't want her hangin out at the golf course either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has done her bronze cross and bronze madalion and next year she could be a lifeguard. When I suggested she get a job at the pool my husband was not crazy about her working at the gate.  Basically she would be sitting around getting paid to do nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can see that we don't want her just getting any job.  We are concerned with what kind of influence her co-workers and her job environment will have on her.  Can you tell we're a little.. not over protective... just protective of our first born?  She is bright, enthusiastic, innocent, and we want to keep her that way.   Maybe I could just pay her to live in a bubble all summer.  Any better suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114321696498592167?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114321696498592167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114321696498592167' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114321696498592167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114321696498592167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/summer-employment.html' title='Summer Employment'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114308737728676899</id><published>2006-03-22T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T20:16:17.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Commitment</title><content type='html'>I say he's my husband but, he's not.&lt;br /&gt;We are not married.  We have no piece of paper legally binding us together.  This does not bother me.  My parents had a piece of paper.  Then their lawyers had lots of pieces of paper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not expect to be with him until 'death do us part'.  In the beginning of our relationship when the going got tough, I wanted him to get going or I assumed that he would.  That is what my parents taught me.  When you are not happy in your relationship, yell, scream, give em the silent treatment or just leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents had fierce, loud arguments.  It seemed like they hated each other. I believed that the only way they could be happy was to split up.  Now I think that even they could have lived with each other if they had really committed to loving each other. When you really love someone, you do not do things to intentionally hurt them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a turning point for me in my relationship. Things changed, we had our son, we bought a house and it was not so easy to just leave. That is not what kept us together though.  We are not 'staying together for the kids'.  We are staying together because we are committed to each other.  When I really dedicated myself to our life together, I realized that it did not make sense to argue about little things.  I did not want to take out my anger or frustration on him because he is the person I am going to be with for the rest of my life.  This was a profound shift in my attitude toward our relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still do argue, though not very often.  I love him deeply, even when I'm not very attracted to him, even when he annoys or frustrates me.  It is because I love him that I try to overcome my petty gripes and discuss major issues.  This is his attitude as well. We are partners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when his sister in law asked me (again) if we were ever going to get married. I just said I don't know.  I'm still waiting for him to ask me.  But, I know we'll be together for as long as we're both alive so, I'm in no rush.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114308737728676899?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114308737728676899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114308737728676899' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114308737728676899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114308737728676899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/commitment.html' title='Commitment'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114299154286784931</id><published>2006-03-21T17:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T17:39:02.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Runaway</title><content type='html'>Since I usually just work from home, my two little ones are not in daycare.  We have this great $7/day 'national' daycare program that makes it almost impossible to find quality part time daycare. That's a rant for another day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went onsite to teach MS Excel, so my babies went to my sister in law's.  She also has 5, two are in school so with my two she had 5 under 5 at her house today.  She is an amazing woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I told my two year old that he would be going to his cousin's house.  He was so excited to be going to Yayo's (cousin's name pronounced by 2yo) house. He talked about it all afternoon. Around dinner when he got upset and we sent him to his room, he yelled:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I . GO. YAAAYOOO'S . HOOOWS . WIIITTE . NOOOOW!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing he can't open the door by himself or he would have been our first kid to run away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114299154286784931?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114299154286784931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114299154286784931' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114299154286784931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114299154286784931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/runaway.html' title='Runaway'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114290358544932366</id><published>2006-03-20T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T17:37:18.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No rest for the wicked</title><content type='html'>I came home yesterday to find 15 emails about a project I am working on. There was no rush to get it done, until I was away. Then they decided it needed to be done for today. And, I'm going teaching tomorrow which I hardly ever do anymore. And since my husband was sick a couple of weeks ago he did not want to miss a day so, we had to arrange for his sister to watch the little ones. Long story short, I am swamped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wanted to consider what I learned on my retreat and make some resolutions to continue in my everyday life. I am hoping I will have more time later in the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny story today:&lt;br /&gt;My two year old had a strip of electrical tape stuck to his shirt. -No that is not the funny part and no, I don't know where he got it.&lt;br /&gt;He took it off his shirt, stuck it to his chin and said "I tanta" (santa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just too cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114290358544932366?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114290358544932366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114290358544932366' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114290358544932366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114290358544932366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/no-rest-for-wicked.html' title='No rest for the wicked'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114282767249704216</id><published>2006-03-19T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T20:07:52.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Incredible</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/1600/incredible.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/320/incredible.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can leap over tall piles of laundry in a single bound, he can settle whining children with his lazer vision, with his super human strength he can take 5 kids to the St Patrick's parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was away all weekend on my retreat and the house was still in one piece when I returned. He did laundry, the kitchen was not covered with dishes. The kids had a great time. He took them all swimming on Saturday night and he took them all downtown on the train to see the parade on Sunday after mass.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Isn't that great? But, didn't they miss me? Am I so dispensable? My 2yo has taking a liking to Mr Incredible. He calls him 'Missusterrible'. Is that what I am to my family Mrs. Terrible wife of Mr. Incredible?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While I was away I called home. I told my 8yo I missed him. He said I miss you too. I said Oh good so you'll take me back then? This brought tears to my eyes. I am not the only one who feels this way. When my Sister in law called home her husband asked their 4yo a loaded question "Do you like it better with mommy here or away?" She held her breath waiting for the answer. Thank goodness her little girl got it right! We all want to get away. And we don't want the house to be a horrible dump when we get back but, we (or at least I) would like to think I would be missed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So after hearing that everything was fine while I was away, I made dinner, tidied up, folded some of the perpetual laundry, and helped to put the kids to bed. Once the kids were in bed my husband came to me and said:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"You know, there is nowhere &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;on this earth &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;that you could go,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;where I would not find you...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;...to bring you back to help me with these kids."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh joy he does need me ;o)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114282767249704216?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114282767249704216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114282767249704216' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114282767249704216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114282767249704216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/mr-incredible.html' title='Mr. Incredible'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114254329699752826</id><published>2006-03-16T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T13:11:50.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In a perfect world</title><content type='html'>So, the babies are doing better and I'm thinking I will be able to go on this retreat. That is stressing me out more than taking care of sick kids. If I am going away I want all my laundry done before I go. I know this is impossible. I like to set my standards high. I really should have had my hair cut. I have to mop my floors. My mother is coming to sleep here tonight so I want my daughter to change all the sheets on her bed and clean her room. I am going to teach next Tuesday and it just hit me that I might not be ready. And I have no clothes. I live in my jeans and this is not a place you wear jeans. And I had no time to go shopping for clothes because my kids were sick, And, And....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there is a whole psychological thing going on. I am afraid to leave my family so I am finding all these excuses why I shouldn't or can't. This is only stressing me out more. I know this so shouldn't I be able to knock it off?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always feel this way about things I look forward to. Like Christmas or Easter or vacations. I am anxious for them but, right before the time comes I think 'I haven't cleaned under my stove!' My life is not perfect yet. I need more time before I can enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel this way but, I hope I don't show this to my kids. Everyday should be a holiday. Everyday my life is perfect, even if my laundry is not done and my floors are dirty. This is the only March 16 2006 I am ever going to have. I should be savouring it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, that did make me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to really live in the moment and fold laundry as a meditation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there's a book someone should write, The Meditation of laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't write again until Sunday it's because I packed my only pair of pants, one skirt and pjs and drove away screaming REEETTTRRREEEAAAT! Oh what will the neighbors say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114254329699752826?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114254329699752826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114254329699752826' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114254329699752826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114254329699752826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/in-perfect-world.html' title='In a perfect world'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114247808203555150</id><published>2006-03-15T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T19:03:15.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mes enfants franglais</title><content type='html'>Said buy my 8yo in his best Québecois accent:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Eh, j'ai un cerveau dans ma tête!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Translation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, I have a brain in my head!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said this to his sister before he told her a story about how smart he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love that they are able to switch from english to french with ease. I try to speak french as much as I can with them. Very often though I fumble for the words.  I have started asking the kids for the french words for things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RETREAT UPDATE:&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the comments about the retreat. I appreciate your thoughtful opinions. I spoke to my mother in law and was pleased that she really understood my feelings. She told me about when she had small children and she felt she should not take the time for a retreat away from her family but, she did and it was for her family that she did. Speaking with her about this meant alot to me. I have so much respect for the way she raised her 6 kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I took my 2yo to the doctor today and he has Pneumonia. He is on antibiotics (I hate giving antibiotics but that's another story) He should be better in a couple of days. Now the baby (11months) is sick. Feverish. She threw up all over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm gonna wait and see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114247808203555150?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114247808203555150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114247808203555150' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114247808203555150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114247808203555150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/mes-enfants-franglais.html' title='Mes enfants franglais'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114236289935980138</id><published>2006-03-14T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T11:17:54.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RETREEEAAAT! or maybe not</title><content type='html'>Oh how I dream of screaming out my car (not van) window REETREEEAAATTT! as I drive down the highway but, I am having serious doubts about actually doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never been away from my 5 kids for more than a few hours. Even when I went to the hospital to have the last two babies I was back home with my family withiin 24 hours. I hate hospitals and with rooming in caring for a bay in the hospital while my husband is home with the other kids is no picnic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago when I was pregnant with the boy who is now a toddler, I went away overnight for work. I flew to Toronto, big pregnant on a plane, fun. Worked all day, all evening, went to dinner (work) and then crashed in the hotel before working again the next day and flying home. Not exactly me time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when my sister in law wrote me a nice letter inviting me to a retreat weekend it appealed to me. I was pretty excited about the idea of having some time for myself. I have been imagining it ever since I sent in the registration. Time for meditation. No cooking, dishes or laundry. Going for a walk by myself. Reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, as the actual days draw closer, I am having second thoughts. I am supposed to leave on Thursday night so I asked my mom to come watch the two littles on Friday while my husband is at work. My mom does not usually watch my kids. She has taken the 15 yo, the 8yo and the 6yo overnight at her place a couple of times but, she has never watched my two babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, my toddler is sick, feverish and coughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this retreat costs $$ and we have to pay $$ for our teen to go on a student exchange and where's the money going to come from. This retreat is not a nescessary exspense and I am just not sure we should spend the money now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what if I go away and end up feeling so guilty about going, that I come back feeling angry because I feel guilty. I am only thinking this because this has happened before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know I should take care of me and it will make me more able to care for my family. I've read the articles, the books but, it is just not so easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114236289935980138?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114236289935980138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114236289935980138' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114236289935980138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114236289935980138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/retreeeaaat-or-maybe-not.html' title='RETREEEAAAT! or maybe not'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114184294589260648</id><published>2006-03-13T08:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T17:29:57.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Specially Marked Cereal Boxes</title><content type='html'>Everytime I go to the store I have to check to see if they have some. If they do, I have to buy at least one. I can't stop myself. I am buying things I normally never buy. Their marketing campaign has been very effective on me. I don't think I am the only one either. The boxes are disapearing fast. This only makes me want to buy more before they are all gone. There are so many boxes in my pantry cupboard we have to store the extras in the garage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is just SUCH A GOOD DEAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am addicted to buying &lt;a href="http://thebigyellowhouse.blogspot.com/2005/05/in-numbers.html"&gt;specially marked boxes of cereal&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;No there are no free Jedi spoons in these boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/320/cereal.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's FREE movie tickets.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With five kids we have to buy a lot of cereal to go to the movies. So eat you Cheerios kiddies, Curious George is waiting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114184294589260648?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114184294589260648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114184294589260648' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114184294589260648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114184294589260648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/specially-marked-cereal-boxes_13.html' title='Specially Marked Cereal Boxes'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114204630829680753</id><published>2006-03-10T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T19:05:08.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's safe to go back to the science museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.centredessciencesdemontreal.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.centredessciencesdemontreal.com/fr/centre/images/logo-centre.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To all the people who heard the lady yelling her daughter's name at &lt;a href="http://www.centredessciencesdemontreal.com/"&gt;this science museum&lt;/a&gt; on Thursday or &lt;a href="http://www.sciencetech.technomuses.ca/"&gt;this science museum&lt;/a&gt; on Friday. Yes, that was me. Yes, we found her. Yes, she took off again. She's probably just behind some spaceship or around the corner looking at the robots. Oh, and my other daughter did manage to retrieve her watch and bracelets that fell though the mesh trampoline. She even found 2 tooneys. I'm so proud. And , that was my baby rolling on the floor. I know she's cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sciencetech.technomuses.ca/"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.sciencetech.technomuses.ca/images/NewSATBWe205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We finally got over being sick and went out to have FUN. Nothing says fun like science museums to my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took lots of pictures, at the second museum after I forgot my camera for the first one. As soon as I figure out how to get pictures off the camera I'll post some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am so exhausted from two days of constant head counts, chasing kids and four hours of driving today, I am going to sleep. Wake me when the kids are back at school ;o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114204630829680753?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114204630829680753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114204630829680753' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114204630829680753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114204630829680753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-safe-to-go-back-to-science-museum.html' title='It&apos;s safe to go back to the science museum'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114185850918445188</id><published>2006-03-08T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T16:26:31.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://thebigyellowhouse.blogspot.com/"&gt;Chris&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://momtothescreamingmasses.typepad.com/"&gt;Carmen&lt;/a&gt;'s Wednesday post is about the comments people make about big families.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit I've received my fair share.  It also amazes me how similar the comments are.  I wonder if these people think they are the first to ask if we have TV. Duh?  This not a comment about my kids but, about your ignorance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here are some of the replies I wish I had thought to say at the time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're so brave."&lt;br /&gt;Actually, my kids aren't very scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't watch much TV do you?"&lt;br /&gt;Ten out of ten doctors do not recommend TV as an effective birth control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you done?"&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, how many do YOU think we should have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, for every inconsiderate comment, I have received many more positive ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband likes to say "When you make 'em this good, why stop?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if the world is overpopulated, I am not a demographer and I have not studied this issue.  I do know however that the world has too many neglected and badly raised kids. Any Parent who puts energy, patience and their best effort into their kids is doing their part to bring back a little balance.  I also would like to salute &lt;a href="http://owlhaven.blogspot.com/"&gt;owlhaven&lt;/a&gt; and others like her who adopt many kids.  I have a friend who has three of her own and now she is taking in foster kids.  That too requires a very special person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for all the mom's of many, and the moms of few and the hopeful moms to be, and the happy to be single, and the married with no kids.  I think you are fine just the way you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having many kids does come in handy sometimes when people want to dole out advice.  Just after I had my son we were INDOORS at a mall.  My other kids were with my oldest. A woman came up to me and told me the baby needed his hat on.  I ignored her.  She said it again. I smiled and said "He's my fourth." She said "is that your way of telling me to mind my own business?" I just smiled and walked away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114185850918445188?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114185850918445188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114185850918445188' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114185850918445188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114185850918445188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/big-family.html' title='Big Family'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114176674491226922</id><published>2006-03-07T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T13:34:14.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So it continues...</title><content type='html'>My son is sick... again.  He had it two weeks ago and now he has it again.  Thankfully I am all better but, I want to take my kids out and enjoy March Break.  Instead we are disinfecting everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114176674491226922?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114176674491226922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114176674491226922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114176674491226922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114176674491226922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/so-it-continues.html' title='So it continues...'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114168632437638783</id><published>2006-03-06T14:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T15:08:37.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The day I ship them off to the circus</title><content type='html'>My city is the birthplace of &lt;a href="http://www.cirquedusoleil.com"&gt;Cirque du Soleil&lt;/a&gt;.  So it seems fitting that when I get the stomach flu on the first day of March break I should ship at least some of my kids off to join the circus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right.  Even though I fumegated my entire house with many different Lysol products I still managed to catch the flu.  At about 11:30 last night.  How long was I allowed to be sick? Until about 8:00am. Then I better get up and shake it off because there are babies to change.  Just what you want to do when your stomach is turning.  My Dh mercifully helped with the kids for a bit and took the 8yo and the 6yo to a full day circus activity before he went to work.  &lt;br /&gt;They had a great time learning to juggle and spin plates on sticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up one of my 15yo's friends.  Her parents left her home while they went on vacation.  Home, with her 23yo brother. Who told her not to come home on Saturday because he was having a party. Whth?  So I figure we'll let her tag along with us this week.  I just hope she doesn't get sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, boring... blah blah.  That's how I feel.  That's how this post is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still afraid to eat but I probably should.  I need to get my energy back.  But, hey what an awesome diet day.  The flu has got to be good for losing a couple of pounds.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is a bit better. sunny and -1 (celcius) So I hope to start walking in the morning before Dh leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hopefully there will be no more sick days on March break and we can get to having FUN!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114168632437638783?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114168632437638783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114168632437638783' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114168632437638783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114168632437638783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/day-i-ship-them-off-to-circus.html' title='The day I ship them off to the circus'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114153010469104274</id><published>2006-03-04T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T19:41:44.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The bad day that wouldn't end.</title><content type='html'>As if my day was not hectic enough yesterday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 8yo son went to a winter weekend camp.  He had to be at a church in the city at 6:30.  I rushed the kids through frozen piza dinner and drove like a crazy person to get there on time.  My printer didn't work. I couldn't print a map so, I was pleased that I only got a little lost getting there.  My Dh met us there.  We registered our son and then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waited&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7:30 I decided to take the baby and 15yo home.  Glad I did because Dh called at 8:30 to say the busses still were not there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They did finally come and or son is away from family for the very first time.  I hope he is having fun.  The 2yo misses him alot and he keeps asking when he's coming back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did my day end then with a bit of relaxing and a good nights sleap? Oh No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 6yo was up all night throwing up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With March Break this week I CAN NOT GET SICK. Please. Pretty Please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 6yo was laying around looking pathetic today and I wanted to give in and say just watch a movie but, we've given up TV.  So I went to the library and picked out a bunch of books on tape for her.  Some were good, some eh.  We really like &lt;a href="http://www.radiotheatre.org/products/secretgarden/"&gt; Radio Theatre's The Secret Garden&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can anybody recommend some good kid's book on tape audiocassettes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114153010469104274?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114153010469104274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114153010469104274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114153010469104274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114153010469104274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/bad-day-that-wouldnt-end.html' title='The bad day that wouldn&apos;t end.'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114141364413956868</id><published>2006-03-03T10:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T11:20:44.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mayhem &amp; a Small Fire</title><content type='html'>Other applicable titles for this post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I'm Aaaalll Right"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Does anyone else recognize this from the drunk uncle in It's a Wonderful Life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The're coming to take me away. Ha Ha Ho Ho He He&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Anybody recognize this? I don't know where it's from.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all started when I volunteered to contribute something for the Teacher Appreciation Lunch at my kids school. I do really appreciate the teachers but, I gotta stop volunteering for stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I offer to bring sausages because I think it will be easy. Broil sausages, put in foil container, bring to school. Should be a snap. Have to be there by 11:45. So here's how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:45 Working while babies trash the play-room (no tv for lent remember)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:50 Realize what time it is and rush upstairs calling for babies to follow me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:51 Go back and get little baby because toddler is torturing her. Bring both to kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:55 Put sausages in oven. No problem plenty of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:00 Turn oven on. Works better that way. No problem I should still have enough time.&lt;br /&gt;I boiled the sausages so I am sure they are cooked. The last thing I wanted to contribute was food poisoning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:00-11:15 try to keep baby away from stove which is the ony place she wants to be, stop toddler from playing tap baby on the head with things you can find in the kitchen. Send toddler to his room. Listen to screaming baby and screaming toddler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:15 Check sausages, not browning fast enough, remove one tray put 2 pans on stove, move baby away from oven, spill sausage drippings, put sausages in pans, flip sausages in oven. Pull baby away from oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:20 Dress baby and put her in carseat on sofa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:23 Flip sausages&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:24 Baby screaming, toddler screaming, baby upside down in carseat toddler knocker off sofa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:25 Baby is fine. Decide not to take her out of car seat (NO TIME) just hug carseat and send toddler to his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:27 Smoke alarm goes off, toddler screams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:28 Check sausages, find small fire under element. Consider putting it out, blow on it no, water, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;TIP Even though it isn't Tuesday: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Use baking soda to put out grease fire. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(but, you all knew that)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:30 Crazy lady stomping around my house flapping things at smoke alarm. Toddler crying, baby crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:31 Throw sausages &lt;s&gt;at&lt;/s&gt; neatly into foil pan, close lid. Call toddler to get ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:32 Smoke alarm again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:33 Wave oven mit at smoke alarm. Open 3 windows even though it is freezing out. debate leaving the house when smoke alarm may go off, decide to risk it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:35 Haul baby to van.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:36 Dress toddler in dirty jacket (another story) no time for boots, pick him up and put him in van.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:37 Go back for sausages&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:40 regret not starting van before, it's freezing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:45(ish) get to kids school to deliver sausages. They better &lt;s&gt;appreciate it&lt;/s&gt; know I appreciate them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Return home to a HUGE mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: The teachers really do deserve my appreciation. They are great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No children were harmed during the production of this post.&lt;br /&gt;It was just chaotic. There was never any actual danger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114141364413956868?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114141364413956868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114141364413956868' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114141364413956868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114141364413956868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/mayhem-small-fire.html' title='Mayhem &amp; a Small Fire'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114135874222695238</id><published>2006-03-02T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T20:05:42.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They pay you for that?</title><content type='html'>I don't have much time to post today. After spending way too much time reading, I decided to get some work done tonight. Not more laundry, dishes, cleaning bathrooms, mopping floors kind of manual labour work. Not the supervising homework, helping with french, breaking-up &lt;s&gt;fights&lt;/s&gt; intense discussions amoung siblings, figuring out why my toddler has big red splotches on his face and arms, caring for a screaming baby who only wants to be held while I'm trying to make dinner, really HARD work. No, tonight I sat hunched over my keyboard and did the kind of work I actually get paid for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to know what I was getting paid to do this evening? Cut and Paste. Albeit incredibly tedious cut and paste but, not exactly up there with rocket science or parenting.  Lot's of taking stuff from here and putting it there and a wee bit of SQL thrown in so they couldn't replace me with a monkey. But, did I mention I am getting PAID for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's why I did not do a Thursday Thurteen about my city which is what I thought I would write today.  That is because nobody would pay me to do that.  They'd rather have the monkey for that one ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and really my toddler has very strange red splotchy skin. I am not sure if it's from teething or him playing with the dish soap this morning?  We'll just have to wait and see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114135874222695238?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114135874222695238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114135874222695238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114135874222695238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114135874222695238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/they-pay-you-for-that.html' title='They pay you for that?'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114126879605877303</id><published>2006-03-01T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T19:11:29.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing the baby weight</title><content type='html'>This time last year I was desperate to shed 20lbs. I was counting the days till March 23 when the pounds would come off. This year I am again desperate to shed 20lbs. but, I think it's going to ba a lot harder to lose them this time. It's sad when you think labour and childbirth is an *easy* way to lose weight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not exagerating about how desperate I was to get that baby out of me this time last year. Towards the end I checked the calendar several times a day to figure out how soon it might possibly happen. I was tired. I was in pain. I was HUGE. Oh, and my babies they just don't want to come out. I was induced with three of them after they were 2 weeks overdue. With my fourth I was induced on the day he was due. The nurses would come in and ask "Oh when were you due?" And I'd say "Today" and the'd give me a funny look and wonder why I was there but, honestly they just don't want to get OUT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make matters worse, even though I told my Dh in January that I wanted him to take the week of March 28-April 1 off. He 'forgot'. Let me tell you, I didn't forget I was having a baby. I didn't forget I would be coming home to a 1 year old and his three older sibling who would be hopped up on Easter chocolate and home from school for 'ped' (teacher's like long weekends) days. Once he remembered, his boss had already planned to take that week so he had to work. So, I wanted that baby out before Easter weekend so I'd have a couple of days where Dh would be around before I had to fly solo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was scheduled to be induced March 23. Dh stayed home. Something he never did with the others, I always sent him off to work and called him later. My mom came to watch the kids. We called the hospital and they said they were full, they would call me when there was a room. We waited, and waited. We called again in the afternoon. They said it was not going to happen that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried. I don't cry easy. I was SOOO DESPERATE to get that baby OUT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday March 26, 2005 I started having contractions at about 8:00am and our baby girl was born by noon. A super easy labour. And a whopping big 9 1/2 lb baby girl. No wonder I was having a hard time carrying her around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year I'm gonna have to lose the weight the hard way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114126879605877303?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114126879605877303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114126879605877303' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114126879605877303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114126879605877303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/03/losing-baby-weight.html' title='Losing the baby weight'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114118530509997204</id><published>2006-02-28T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T19:59:09.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pancake Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Mardi Gras!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent my Dh Chris's story about &lt;a href="http://thebigyellowhouse.blogspot.com/2005/08/thankfully-there-is-more-than-one-way.html"&gt;making pancakes&lt;/a&gt; where she has no eggs and baking powder. This morning I went to the store to buy fruit for a fruit salad, sausages and any other ingredients I would need for our special pancake dinner. My sister in law was coming over with her 5 so I made triple the pancake recipe. And you know what? I ran out of baking powder! I had to send my daughter over to my neighbor's for 2 tbsp of 'magic'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like &lt;a href="http://www.daringyoungmom.com/"&gt;daring young mom&lt;/a&gt;'s idea of &lt;strong&gt;Tip Tuesday&lt;/strong&gt; so here are some tips:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make friends with your neighbors. It's always good to have someone you can borrow a cup of sugar from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we bought our house I lived in a 6plex. The day my downstairs neighbor moved in I went down with coffee. We became fast friends and from that day on we shared everything. I think I still have some of her cutlery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When cutting onions and crying your eyes out, wear hubby's workshop safety glasses. Sunglasses work too but then it's too dark to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This works even better if you remember to put them on before you have tears streaming down your face and you're trying to cut the onions with your eyes closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I plan to make pancakes or scones in the morning I mix all the dry ingredients the night before. Than all I have to do is add milk and eggs. It saves time in the morning when I am not really awake.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tomorrow is the beginning of Lent. For the past few years we have given up TV. After the first year our kids actually remind us we give up TV. It is not a huge sacrifice. We don't watch much TV to begin with. We don't have cable or sattelite (hence the five kids... when we want to stop having kids we'll get cable. People say that is an effective birth control)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids don't watch TV during the week except when they are all ready in the morning before they catch the bus. My Dh has been working so much he only watches the occasional movie. I watch on weeknights while I am on the computer (working or... reading) I think the kids like it because we spend more time playing games. I think we watch TV because we are too lazy to find something else to do. This just breaks the routine and makes us all find other things to do. I definitely read more. However this is the first year my 2yo will notice the TV is gone. We'll see how he reacts when he finds out there's no Caillou, Nemo and Barney...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114118530509997204?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114118530509997204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114118530509997204' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114118530509997204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114118530509997204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/pancake-tuesday.html' title='Pancake Tuesday'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114109624386517036</id><published>2006-02-27T18:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T19:22:12.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Impressed...</title><content type='html'>...and overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/200/kathryn.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only started reading blogs a couple of weeks ago. I came across &lt;a href="http://momtothescreamingmasses.typepad.com/mom_to_the_screaming_mass/"&gt;mom to the screaming masses&lt;/a&gt; by accident when I was searching for information about &lt;a href="http://kathrynsansone.com/"&gt;Kathryn Sansone&lt;/a&gt;'s book. I was hooked with the &lt;a href="http://momtothescreamingmasses.typepad.com/mom_to_the_screaming_mass/2006/01/dynamics_of_a_b.html"&gt;Dynamics of a big family&lt;/a&gt; post and from there I found Chris at &lt;a href="http://thebigyellowhouse.blogspot.com/"&gt;the big yellow house&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then my kids have been asking "What?" very often because I am laughing out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've copied posts to send to my Dh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've followed links to other blogs. So many blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many fun interesting mommies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much time spent reading online when I am supposed to be working!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much laundry piling up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many links added to my favorites!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am addicted. Is there a seven step program for me? I've got to stop reading and get back to work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok I'll just read one more and then I'll work...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114109624386517036?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114109624386517036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114109624386517036' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114109624386517036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114109624386517036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-impressed.html' title='I&apos;m Impressed...'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114101239825446926</id><published>2006-02-26T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T05:41:20.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Over heard at our house...</title><content type='html'>Really, someone probably overheard this at our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my daughter's friends from elementary school started calling her recently.  This is unusual since they go to different High Schools.  She always calls on Sunday evening.  It turns out this girl has a crush on the boy that plays guitar with the youth choir at our church. She calls to ask if our he mentioned this girl, what was he wearing, did he get her phone number, does he like her, twitter, twitter, twitter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Boywatch is on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when the phone rang and my daughter picked it up and started talking my Dh yelled loud enough that some of you may have over heard him too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"HE HAS A GREAT BIG WART ON HIS NOSE! AND WE JUST FOUND OUT, HE WEARS DIAPERS!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;&lt; I laughed so hard, tears were rolling down my cheeks.&gt;&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out it was not the girl with the crush on the phone.  It was my daughter's cadet leader to give her 'messages'.  I guess he got an ear full!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114101239825446926?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114101239825446926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114101239825446926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114101239825446926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114101239825446926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/over-heard-at-our-house.html' title='Over heard at our house...'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114092304133414255</id><published>2006-02-25T18:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T19:04:01.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New sacrament</title><content type='html'>This morning my 8 year old son  came to the table with a small hand made green construction paper envelope.  From it he took out a litte slip of paper with a prayer typed on it.  He was practicing.  He reminded us we were going to his "&lt;em&gt;first Circonciliation&lt;/em&gt;" today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I burst out laughing.  I repeated it for Dh in case he hadn't heard. Circonciliation a mixed religous ceremony.  Combine a circumcision with reconciliation, it's like chopping off your sins to trim your concience ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did go to his first &lt;em&gt;Reconciliation&lt;/em&gt; today. He did his confession.  He will do his first communion in May. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad signed him up for baseball.  It's the first time he will play. What are we getting into?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and tonight he threw up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have been busy disinfecting everything and saying my own little prayers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114092304133414255?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114092304133414255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114092304133414255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114092304133414255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114092304133414255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/new-sacrament.html' title='New sacrament'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114081199378250390</id><published>2006-02-24T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T17:26:53.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parent/Teacher night</title><content type='html'>Last night was Parent/Teacher Night at the high school. I think it is the first time since my daughter started high school that I have not been hauling around a baby (in my tummy, in a carrier, in a car seat) for teacher interviews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was at school I guess I'll tell you what I learned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Even if you made the cookies and ate too many of them at home you should still buy one, you know, just to support the school ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Many of the teachers who taught my husband STILL work at the school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. There are quite a few teachers retiring this summer. Some of them look way too young to be retiring. Mrs. Morrison I want to drink YOUR water. Congrats to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. Never assume that because she just started the class a couple of weeks ago, you don't need to see her Spanish teacher. Dad went to see him because he's an old friend and got an ear full about our &lt;em&gt;pequeÃ±a muchacha adolescente&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. High School teachers want parents to be involved with their kids education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. All four of the teachers we saw want to sign her agenda and have us check it daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. Almost all the parents I saw at the school had a red Honor Roll stamp on their kid's report card. Why are most of the parents who take the time to go to the school the ones who's kids are doing well? Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. Your kid can have a red Honor Roll stamp on their report card, a 98% in math and still be called "my little delinquent" by her english teacher. (I am SURE it is an affectionate nickname...Sighh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9. Even though parents are only supposed to talk with teachers for 5 minutes it can take 2 hours to meet with 4 teachers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. Two hours can feel like an EXTREMELY LONG TIME.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114081199378250390?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114081199378250390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114081199378250390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114081199378250390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114081199378250390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/parentteacher-night.html' title='Parent/Teacher night'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114066620222988210</id><published>2006-02-22T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T19:43:22.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doughnut Holes</title><content type='html'>Last night Dad was not coming home.  Problems came up at work and he had to stay to supervise.  I had to drive the oldest to an activity so I decided to drive to Dad's work to drop off a book for him.  Not because he really needed the book, more because I needed to kill some time before bed time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stopped off at Tim Hortons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim Hortons is a canadian institution.  They are our most popular Doughnut &amp; Coffee chain.  Krispie Kreme came to Canada a couple of years ago and has since closed up shop.  No match for Tim Hortons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went through the Tim Hortons drive-thru. I LOVE DRIVE THRU! I wish there was drive thru everything! We bought TimBits (doughnut holes) and a Vanilla Capuccino for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to Dad's work, Dad picked up the two year old and held him over the box so he could select a delicous ball of sugary fried dough.  My son leaned in and a big blob of drool dripped right in the box.  Mmmmm... Doughnut hole anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an evil mummy so I did not let my 8 year old have a Timbit because he refused to finish his dinner.  I told him we would save one for him and he could have it the next day (probably the one covered in drool)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at 6:25am this morning the 8 year old comes tip toeing into our room and whispers "Mom, where are the doughnuts?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I made cookies for the my 15 year old's school to sell at Parent/Teacher night. So if you are wondering why I not bragging abouit the weight I've lost since I started taking a body shaping class twice a week... Doughnut last night, cookies tonight, I've got to stop testing the food before I feed it to the kids ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114066620222988210?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114066620222988210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114066620222988210' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114066620222988210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114066620222988210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/doughnut-holes.html' title='Doughnut Holes'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114052879051856228</id><published>2006-02-21T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T05:33:10.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All My Fault</title><content type='html'>As I write this my 8 year old son is stomping around the entrance.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"C'mon guys get ready" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whine... stomp... slam cupboard door &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't go breakin my, don't go breaking my heart" (that's the 6 year old, she sings) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son is stomping around because he left his hat and mittens in Dad's car which is at Dad's work now.  Somehow this must be my fault...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you going to do miss school for the day because you don't have your favorite hat?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stand next to the stomping sulky kid to make sure he gets ready.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are going to miss the BUS"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stomp, stomp SLAM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;silence&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I don't home school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whaaa! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only two left at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114052879051856228?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114052879051856228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114052879051856228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114052879051856228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114052879051856228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/all-my-fault.html' title='All My Fault'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114048664884264905</id><published>2006-02-20T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T17:21:45.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Job</title><content type='html'>The two year old is crying because he has to sit at the table instead of playing hockey in the living room. Two of the kids are whining and the oldest is nagging. The baby is screaming and climbing out of her high chair AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all this whailing going on I say "Geeze, you guys it's a wonder your dad comes home at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: "What's worse, is that I look forward to coming home all day"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Wow you live a sad life."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114048664884264905?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114048664884264905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114048664884264905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114048664884264905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114048664884264905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/tough-job.html' title='Tough Job'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114031701286322205</id><published>2006-02-18T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T18:43:32.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ha Ha</title><content type='html'>Dad to giddy baby swinging in the garage:”You took your socks off again!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 year old: I guess she laughed her socks off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114031701286322205?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114031701286322205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114031701286322205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114031701286322205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114031701286322205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/ha-ha.html' title='Ha Ha'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114019679681292441</id><published>2006-02-17T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T09:47:09.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Middle Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7562/2282/320/Pic1.jpg" border="0" align="right"/&gt;We call our 6 year old our *special* child. There is nothing wrong with her. She is just very um, creative and high spirited and determined. She views things in her own pink princess way. We have learned not to assume we know her mind because, just when we think we have her figured out, she changes her mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she was about 3, one of the other pre-school kids pushed her . When we heard this we asked our son who is a year and a half older than her, if he took care of his little sister. "Did you tell the boy to be gentle with your sister?" we asked. To that our tiny dainty little girl replied: "NO, I WILL TELL HIM" She doesn't need people to stick up for *her*!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is the one we worried about when we sent her off to school. Or maybe we were worried about the teacher. We anticipated the phone calls from teachers and yes, we have received them. Like the time they called because our special child gave a girl in her class the finger. Where would she learn to do that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes to do things *her* way. She definitely knows her own mind. I sit with her to help her with her homework. My kids are in french immersion so 85% of there work is in french. If I explain the meaning of a sentence and she likes her version better... She'll just answer what she thinks the question is. So, we do the same page several times. Her way, my way and then what she will actually hand in. Her teacher also knows she likes to do things when *she* feels like it, so even though her work habits "need improvement", the teacher is doing nothing to change it. "sigh..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spite of all her * special* qualities, and also because of them, I love her dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she said to me "Ooooh I have a very DIZZY head".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've just figured this out hun?" I replied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114019679681292441?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114019679681292441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114019679681292441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114019679681292441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114019679681292441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/middle-child.html' title='The Middle Child'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-114006184049296921</id><published>2006-02-15T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T19:50:40.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chores</title><content type='html'>I believe chores are good for kids.  I also need the help.  I can't keep up with the mess from 7 people and get work done too.  My oldest (15) helps out the most.  Dh does all the heavy lifting and renovations - lots of renovations. I joke we are buiding a new house from the inside out.  He also helps a lot with the kids.  He came home early today so I love him dearly - today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laundry:&lt;br /&gt;15 year old has been doing her own laundry for 5 years. I am starting to teach my son (8 years)  He keeps his laundry in his own hamper I clean it and he folds it and puts it away - sometimes.  6 + 8 year old have been putting away their folded laundry for years.  I separate it by what drawer it gois in and giv it to them one drawer at a time.  My 2 year old LOVES to help with laundry.  I give him a pile of clothes and tell him who to give it to.  They hide he runs down the hall they scare him thay all laugh and then if I'm lucky he gives them the clothes and it gets put away.  When I'm not so lucky I find little piules of folded laundry in the oddest places.  Mismatched socks get thrown in a basket and when they run out of the 10+ pairs of socks they have I sort them (I HATE sorting socks) I spend SO much time doing laundry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids rooms:&lt;br /&gt;I try to get them to tidy them everyday or so.  They take their clothes to the laundry room, tidy their beds and put stray toys back in the play room.  My 15 year olds room is always a mess and she is always cleaning it - for hours she 'cleans her room'. Dh renovated her room and she is lucky to have a huge closet, nice desk, dresser, bookshelf and night table. In other words a place for everything but, it all ususlly stays on her floor.  Well at least she has no time for TV she is always cleaning her room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supper Time:&lt;br /&gt;When 15 year old gets home from school she helps out with babies so I can work or prep dinner.  She preps dinner sometimes.  She/I tidy up kitchen, living room, dining room so it isn't as much of a mess when Dh comes home.  When kids (6, 8) get home they do homework at the table or run screaming through the house if I am not there to supervise.  6 + 8 year old alternate setting/clearing the table.  We DO NOT HAVE A DISHWASHER AAAAHHHH! So I do dishes every night with 15 year old or Dh.  15 year old sometimes watches babies in the bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On weekends everyone 6+ helps out.  They whine and complain.  If being a good parent instead of crazy sceaming lady I do not tolerate complaining and I send them to their room untill they are ready to help out without whining.  The oldest gets more jobs If she doesn't do what she's been asked properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know my oldest daughter is a huge help.  I used to give her allowance.  Now she earns her own money but, I will pay for things she wants or activities once in a while.  Nobody else gets allowance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds like everyone pitches in to keep this place running, it is a dump most of the time.  As soon as I mop the floor a bay spills juice or speads cherios all over for people to step on.  Everyone dumps their stuff when they come in unless I am standing there telling them to put it away.  Even when the house is cleaned as best we can, it is still a work in progress... Ah the joys of a fixer upper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-114006184049296921?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/114006184049296921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=114006184049296921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114006184049296921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/114006184049296921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/chores.html' title='Chores'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-113994371230987420</id><published>2006-02-14T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T19:07:22.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't</title><content type='html'>My 2 year old son's new favorite expression is "I can't". Actually it is "I tan't" because he really can't make the sound "c". Today he sat down on the kitchen floor and took off one shoe. Then he pleaded with me to take off his other shoe "help, I tan't".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I said "No, you can do it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He scootched himself over to his 11 month old sister and said "Baby do it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-113994371230987420?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/113994371230987420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=113994371230987420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/113994371230987420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/113994371230987420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-cant.html' title='I can&apos;t'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22445312.post-113992692395359098</id><published>2006-02-14T05:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T11:05:50.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAM</title><content type='html'>I know, I know it is WAHM but WHAM seems a more appropriate acronym to describe my life.&lt;br /&gt;I have five wonderful kids (girl 15, boy 8, girl 6, boy 2, girl 11 months) anyone see a pattern? Want to bet what our next child will be? No, I am not expecting one now but, we haven't ruled it out. My dh is one of 6 and he'd take as many as I'll make and raise for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With two babies at home and the rest in school I work from home as a programmer. I do not work full-time. I fit it in whenever I can, during nap time, in the evening etc. However I am only one person and that means if work is getting done laundry, cleaning &amp; cooking is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also trying to get to an excercise class a couple of times a week because two babies in a row has made me a mushy blob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why if I am so busy am I blogging? I found &lt;a href="http://www.thebigyellowhouse.blogspot.com/"&gt;the big yellow house&lt;/a&gt; looking for info on big families and I've been lurking for a while in awe of her. Now I figured I'd give it a try. So, watch me balance this baby on my head while I juggle spinning plates and eat fire!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22445312-113992692395359098?l=mother-hood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/feeds/113992692395359098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22445312&amp;postID=113992692395359098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/113992692395359098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22445312/posts/default/113992692395359098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mother-hood.blogspot.com/2006/02/wham.html' title='WHAM'/><author><name>T</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
