Ponder this

“I’m a lidda bit gwumpy.”

So says the girl child almost every morning when I say hello to her. Of course it’s adorable and I can’t quite take her seriously because she’s just too damn cute, but I actually think she’s on to something there.

Wouldn’t it be great to somehow get a warning like that from the people you interact with every day before you start chatting them up?

I mean think about it. Wouldn’t you want to know if someone had gotten on the bus driver’s last nerve before you climbed aboard? Or that the person you just ordered your coffee from wasn’t about to spit in it because their boyfriend/girlfriend pissed them off last night?

For the record, I am a little bit bitchy/achy/cranky/sleepy/bored.

I'm not in the mood for sharing

That's what boy child says when he doesn't want to play with his sister.

And that's what I say after reading the blog entry of a friend who still works in the department I did at the Government of Alberta. It is a message to all staff and Board members from a guy who once sent another graphic email to all of his co-workers about the time he had the shits and couldn't come into the office. Made me want to wash my hands every time I went near him.

He's also enormous and likes to pretend as the designated fire warden that he is in fact a general in charge of his troops. (he once gave a one-hour slide show and talk about what to do when the fire alarm rings – hmmm, let me see…get the hell out of the building?).

http://busierrake.blogspot.com/

Things that I love

Watching my wife dance.

Watching my wife dance with our 3-year-old boy child at the new little vegetarian restaurant down the road. They danced to Gordon Lightfoot as we waited for our homemade perogies and veggie sausages to be ready. Drank the best coffee ever.

Watching Melissa Etheridge walk off with the Oscar for Best Song right after the giant Dream Girls number. Sometimes subtle is better. And she kissed and thanked her wife in front of one billion people. So great.

Watching Helen Mirren. Enough said.

Reading the front page Family Day newspaper story and giant photo of our friends with their little boy. Amazing to see a gay couple on the cover with their newly-adopted kid they fought so hard to get. More than makes up for all of the homophobic ranting that followed in the editorial pages the rest of the week.

Watching my girl child munching on roasted wieners and buns at her friend's outdoor b-day party yesterday.

Watching the delight in my boy child's eyes as I told him we were going to a b-day party. In response, he yelled "CAKE!" He knows what is important in life. The boy listens to his Mama.

Hello goodbye I love you

I am the bread winner of my household (my children often wonder why I need to be gone so long every day just to make bread). Boy child often plaintively says “I will miss you so much while you are gone.” as I leave the house in the morning. Today he said in a worried little voice, “Mama, I will be right here waiting for you when you come home.” as though I wouldn’t be. And he woke me up this morning at about 5 a.m. to be sure I got up to get ready for work.

Girl child on the other hand, rarely rises these days before I leave (although we had a lovely encounter at 3 this morning – me groggily stumbling down the stairs to see what all the fuss was about. Her wailing about not wanting to be in bed, but being so tired, yet needing to watch a video. NOW!).

One of the best parts of my day is coming home to three smiling faces. It’s so great to know there are people out there who are genuinely happy to see me. Girl child always has a super big grin – all teeth and cheeks – and does this little happy dance as she flails her arms and says, “MAMA!” Boy child, for the last two days, kinda looks at me in surprise and says, “Mama, shouldn’t you be at work?” as though I am playing hooky at 5 p.m. And of course, the wife is equally thrilled to have me home... to share the load.

Kinda makes me feel like a birthday present every day.

A rose by any other name

The lovely L, in playing with the kids one day, came up with nicknames for all four of us. She is Sunny Mumi (got the good name because she’s the one who made them up). Boy child is Rainy (his first name). Girl child is Snow (her first name), and I was christened Thunder Mama – Boom! Boom! It is a name that is actually pretty appropriate, seeing as how when I am mad (this rarely happens) I slam doors and stomp around the house.

Now, without prompting, girl child will often call me Thunder Mama, as though she thinks it is my Big Name. She has also been known to call me Big Mama and popularly, Squishy Mama, which is usually said as she endearingly pokes my belly with her cute little finger.

SHROOOOMS

Mushrooms.

Your cute button variety of fungi commonly sold in your local grocery store.

Did they suddenly become vile and no one told me?

I just opened up the spinach salad I often buy for lunch to find a meticulously wrapped little plastic ball of mushroom slices. WTF?

Why the prophylactic on my food? If you are going to contain something in spinach salad shouldn't it be the fat-laden porcine bacon bits?

And besides, aren't mushrooms one of the main ingredients in spinach salad? Why would you buy one if you minded them?

I can see clearly now the pain is gone

Now a word from my legal team: Shit Piss Snot and Puke.

Just coming out from the fugue of boy and girl child being sick at the same time and me being the only one home for a week to ensure they don't die. All mama, all the time.

Burning hot fevers, nightmares, constipation, diaherra, suppositories, enemas, ear infections, sinus infections, lack of appetite, not sleeping, sleeping all the time. So the story goes.

How to cope? Videos!! Lots and lots of videos. Proud parent am I.

How did I spend my week off from work? Being shat upon, puked on, sneezed on, and dare I say peed on. The joy, the bliss, the beauty of parenthood.