Questions for Luke

Luke, what are those brown stains all over your face? and hands? and clothes?
And Luke, why do you smell like {sniff, sniff}....

soya sauce?


Betcha thought I was going to say Poo. Well ha ha on you. Now get your mind outta the gutter.

The Count Down Has Started

Willy is holed up in our room working on his BAR application. He's been racing furiously for the last few weeks, and the finish line is in site. Yippee! We're almost done with school (for awhile anyway, it'll be my turn next).

Meanwhile the situation on the home front could kill me. Isabella hasn't stopped talking for the last two weeks. I doubt she breathes anymore. What happened to the good old days when only my physical presence was required? I feel like Harrison Bergeron- without the exceptional good looks, intelligence or athleticism. And Luke! He wont stop throwing shoes at me. "Let's go out now!" he commands with that baby lisp only I understand. He unfortunately doesn't understand reason. "I just chased you around the park for three hours. Hey stay out of the fridge!" I holler right back at him. What I really want to do is ride away on my trusty Schwinn and spend a day in Barnes & Noble (with the coffee smell, and the swank music, and the new books). I want to let someone else worry about the feeding, bathing, cuddling, tucking-in-ing of children. Until then I keep clicking my heels: August Come Soon, August Come Soon.

I know, I know. Just call up some generous soul and beg them to take my kids. But then I'd be at loose end for 2 hours. Plus I don't drive, so it'd be a hassle travelwise, and then I'd feel obligated to respond in kind (or pay money, since I don't have any skills worth bartering). Gosh, I'm like some martyr relishing every obstacles on her rosary. What I really need is my partner back. And a bike.

Some people say the sun is made of orange cheese

Dad- What are you kids gonna do today.
Buggy- Well, I can't watch TV today because I yelled at mom yesterday.
Dad - Oh? What are you gonna to do instead?
Buggy- I'm goin' to play my bideo game.

Isn't it convenient that when our children are the most demanding we are the least inclined to oblige them! Our DVD player is a double edged sword. I'm sure it's half the reason Isabella is ill humoured, but I can't forbid her to watch or I might have to deal with orneriness for 12 hours straight. That darned TV! It's so easy to turn on, and exponentially more difficult to turn off.

Easter

Easter is my favourite. Because of the Chocolate, and the certain romantic feeling in the air. We get to celebrate the resurrection of our Saviour, and reflect on our own re-birth. Easter is like getting a fresh start. All sinners love Easter best. Well this sinner does.

I adopted the yarn tradition from my friend L. Miller. Soon Isabella will be old enough for some really artistic webs. Can you guess what I learned for next year?

Still can't guess?

And here is my masterpiece. Seven dozen sparkle eggs. An idea I got from Hamilton's Easter Dinner last year.

Thanks E. Hamilton, A. Gordon and A. Martinsen for the inspiration.

I started blowing the eggs on boxing day. I think the chil'ns had fun colouring (not dying, there was some trauma over the meaning of dye) the eggs. Well maybe Luke was a little bored dunking his two eggs in plain water. But he did enjoy smashing them. We made a huge mess of the Gibb's backyard. Sorry and thank you SCES Gibb.

2010 Kite Festival

We went again. This year we brought a kite. Here's me trying to take a picture, guard our stroller, stay within shouting distance of two children, and fly a kite. ahh, I promise that kite was up! Obviously getting a picture of the pretty cherry blossoms was beyond my generation x abilites.

Isabella. The Pixie.

(sorry G- I know it was never funny, and now it's annoying, but I can't stop. )

Saturday Morning

One thing that touches my sentimental heart is how happy my children are when Willy is around. Here they are waking him up. He's a great father. A perfect husband. A good man. I know it's unimaginative, but this happy family thing is what I've always wanted. Thank you Willy.

Doesn't Buggy look like a pixie?

The First Day of Spring

I think next year we'll just do popsicles (like Willy's cousins). Not that there's anything wrong with green tulip sugar cookies. What a classic touch the red sprinkles add. Never say nauseating. Okay, alright- they tasted just fine and if it looked like we severed an artery... well that's another matter. Doesn't Buggy look like a pixie?