Signs of the impending apocalypse...

Otherwise known as my 40th birthday, next week.

Actually I am not feeling all midlife-crisisy about turning 40. It just seems surreal. Like my dad said when he turned 70...he didn't feel 70. (actually he also said when he was a kid, growing up poor during WWII in England, people rarely lived to 70 so he wasn't sure how a 70-year-old is supposed to feel).

But there are a few signs I am getting (ahem) older ...

- For my birthday present I am having a remote auto start installed in my truck. I made the arrangements for it and told the husband what he is getting me. How frickin' practical and unromantic, huh? But it will save me running outside in my pjs and boots at 6;30 every morning this winter to start the car so it's warm when the boy gets in (actually I only do that on the days the husband is away, he does it for me otherwise, which actually is kinda romantic).

- I also want a new point-and-shoot camera because mine died unexpectedly. So I just found the one I want online, checked availability in the local store and emailed the link to the husband. At least I'll get what I want.

- My feet hurt when I get out of bed in the mornings so I hobble for a few minutes each day.

Please, pretty please...

Anyone that reads Dooce knows she is always asking for a hippopotamus for Christmas.

Well, I want a zebra.

This one:


pleeeaaaaase????????

Only "mostly" a contest

OK what movie is this from???


Claire? you must know.

Notes From School (part whatever, who's keeping track anymore?)

Circle Time
We sang good morning songs, and by popular demand, did the Hokey Pokey. We worked hard figuring out our rights and lefts.

We also had a question of the day, suggested by Miss Beth:

What do your mom and/or dad do all day? (We, of course talked about how some people have mom and some people have dad and some people have mom and dad and some people have this combination and some people have that combination).

And the answers are...guess which one is your kid!

A) She works hard. He cleans up.
B) My daddy works at work.
C) She's a Chloe. She doesn't clean all day. She puts socks on the fireplace for Gangy and I.
D) My mom goes to work in a big building. She has big kids she teach. Papa goes to work when we get home.
E) Them work.
F) They clean up my toys in my bedroom at home.
G) Stay home.
H) My mommy and daddy, sometimes they clean the house. Sometimes when my pets puke, they clean it up. They do lots of stuff. Hers at work. My mommy's working at magazines. My daddy's working at his computer. Sometimes he gives me papers to draw.
I) Sometime my mom bring be new books from work. He work at work.
J) Sometimes they clean my house. She's at work at school, teaching her kids. He's at work at his work.
K) Sometimes they go to work. Sometimes they don't go to work.
L) They work at the office and they work on the computer and they let me draw on paper.
M) (No answer--stonefaced look)
N) My daddy tough.



For the record I clean up when the pets puke EVERY time, not just sometimes.

I will sleep like a baby for ever more

I seriously will no longer waste even one second of worry about possible nighttime intruders while the husband is away on business trips (you know the silly, scared thoughts that run through your mind when you wake up at 1 am: What was that noise? What if there is someone hiding in the furnace closet?).

The husband got home from his tropical business trip at 4:30 this morning (coming home to minus 15 degrees, bwahaahaahaaaa) and the second he heard a step on the porch steps, Ferguson was off like a shot down to the front door barking like a mad dog. Good Boy!!!!!!

Finnigan, however, was another story. He fetched a pair of balled socks from the clean laundry basket and skipped down the stairs, tail wagging to welcome the knife-wielding psychopath breaking into our house and show him where we keep the best china. Sigh...

Things that are bugging me today

- My blood pressure is up and I need to increase my meds and I don't want to. Because I cannot figure out why my BP is rising. I thought it was one thing, and my GP concurred, then my Gyn said no, it's more likely this. Then a conversation with my sister led me back toward the first conclusion. Arrggghh. I need Becca's Grand Rounds, where my entire medical team (all two of them) and me and my immediate family all meet in one room so I have access to all my medical records and familial health history all at one time to help me decide what to do. Is that in the Democratic health care bill being proposed?

- It's freaking cold here. Like -4 at my house this morning. As it is every November. but that isn't what's bugging me. What's bugging me is that the husband is on the Dominican Republic where it's 80 or more. Bastard. Well, he's coming home tomorrow and won't he be in for a surprise???

- My office is cold and I miss working at home with a dog sleeping on my feet.

Yippee

A few days ago I posted a rant about my favorite bra being discontinued. Well, apparently ranting is productive.

Because not only has my dear sister procured 5 of the "boobie thingies" (as the boy calls them) in the correct size from Walmart stores in her little corner of Indianapolis, but a woman in the same predicament, searching for the same bra online came across my blog and kindly left a comment directing me to a very similar-looking bra available at Sears!

Yippee!!!

Thanks to the power of the interwebs, my boobies will continue to be held firmly in place for years to come!

Wow

I have made a decision I never thought I would make. In fact, it's one I swore over and over I would never make.

Colleen, are you sitting down???






I am going to apply for U.S. citizenship.




OK stop yelling and throwing things Colleen and let me explain.

I will still be Canadian.

They changed the rules several years back and now both Canada and the U.S. recognize dual citizenship with the other country. And having U.S. citizenship will be so much easier than having a green card. It won't expire, so I won't have to remember that Oh, yeah my green card runs out in another 8, 7, 6, 5 years, I won't have to show my green card crossing the border and answer all the questions it inevitably raises.

I'm a gonna do it.

But I will always be a Canadian, I swear.

This got me

Unintentionally funny conversation

Last night as I was setting the boy in his bed, I suggested a plan to him to prevent a bad morning like we had had earlier that day. I said if he would try really hard not to whine and fuss, I would try really hard not to yell at him.

Me: "I don't like yelling at you and I really shouldn't do it, it's not nice, is it?"

The boy: "No, but you always say you are sorry..."

Me: "Yes, but I really shouldn't even do it in the first place."

The boy: "It's OK, Mommy, you can do it in the second place..."

OK, that's IT! The boy can no longer watch Family Guy

Last night while watching Family Guy**, the boy asked me:

"Mommy, what's sex?"




I managed to stay calm and relaxed and said: "It's what men and women do together to make babies."

(Pretty good, huh? specifically vague)

A second later he followed up with: "Why are that lady and Brian going to do it in the bathroom?"







I STILL managed to stay calm and relaxed and said: "Because sometime people like to do it just for fun."

But next time, I am going to send him downstairs to ask Daddy...




** Anyone with parenting advice, thoughts or criticisms specific to this occurrence may direct their comments to the husband, who turned the boy on to Family Guy in the first place. I am WASHING MY HANDS of this one.