1 + 1 = meltdown

Okay - get this:

On a whim, today I decided to take my daughter to a city park called Riverdale Farm (it has animals, it's in the city, and it's free) and I took her without any of the following items:

• drinks
• snacks
• stroller
• cash
• and obviously, sanity

Did I mention we also did this via public transportation?

Clearly a person is insane when they attempt this kind of adventure with a high spirited, snack-happy kid who demands to be carried every half block. When I do give in and carry her, she refuses to wrap legs around me or position on hip, and instead chooses to dangle until the I just cannot repeat "please help mummy and please just hug with your legs" without the fear of adding expletives between each word. Then I place her down and force her to walk until the demands starts again at approximately fifty paces out.

Today our original plan was to get my driver's license replaced (long story - maybe later) and based on previous experience, I expected that it would take at least an hour or two. Because of the frequent long waits, I wanted to get us to the office early (we did all our passports last year and we were there for six weeks - we lived on Baby MumMums and condensation collected of the AC units).

Well today, we walked into the office, they asked me what I needed, they give me a number, and then proceeded to immediately called my number. WTF? I walked up in front of about 150 people and was out the door in under five minutes. I could actually feel some of the long range daggers in my back as I left the office.

Anyhow, the quick trip kinda left our day wide open, so after joining SB for an early morning coffee break I had the brilliant idea of going to the farm. Before it was out my mouth, Bumper was chanting "FARM" like a lunatic sports fan who worshipped team faaaaaaaarm. Well how could I deny that?

So off we went.

First mistake: I forgot which subway stop we needed to go to which resulted in walking three city blocks because I was sure the next station was on the next block (and so on, and so on). Then I got us on the wrong bus and ended thinking it was waaaaaay closer than it was and made the kid walk something like ten zillion blocks unassisted. This long range walking was a first for B and the fact that she survived that ordeal has proven that she can do it, so sorry kid, the free rides are over.

Anyhow, I was kinda hoping all this exercise would work in my favour and take the edge of her her usual endless energy. Mostly I was praying for this because I was beginning to realize all the items I did NOT have on me (see above). Sure I had the pull-ups/diapers and wipes (thank da *%$@ because I almost used them all today). But because I rushed us out the door in the morning, I forgot the basics.

Despite my short comings in the parental packing skill area, the farm was loads of fun. For two hours we ran around, saw the cutest damn baby animals, and walked what I'm sure was every path, all while drinking the water and juice I had bought with purse change. I figured we'd be home in time for lunch, and because she ate a big breakfast, we would be fine.

omg I'm so obviously delusional.

My child likes her snacks and no snacks means tantrums. Sometimes she doesn't eat snacks but I almost always have them on me - just in case. I figured I'd be able to find something healthy on the way, something that doesn't cost more than my purse change or a store that takes debit. While I'm sure that I passed a few of those places on our way in, I surprised by the lack of healthy or affordable snacks at the farm. So here we were, blocks away from lunch and my child had decided she wanted to STAY AT THE FARM - FOREVER.

Or at least that is what she told pretty much all of eastern Toronto when I tried to suggest leaving. Then I tried applying leaving and the full-throttle-on-the-ground episodes began.

Now I subscribe to letting tantrums run their course and as long as she isn't hurting herself or anyone else (or the place is completely inappropriate). I believe it's better than trying to suppress her emotions. Also I find when I do it this way the tantrums run shorter and in no time she is up and totally acting as if nothing happened. Which always makes me do a double take.

Well today, we can say I did many many double takes. I had to facilitate so many meltdowns, I felt like I was on an episode of Nanny 911 - except on Nanny 911 it's usually a montage of a meltdowns while ours seemed like they were one right after the other. I really felt for her, the poor kid - she was pushed to the limits.

There are about fifty other stories to tell about this adventure.

Like how she argued with me over the penis on the hen (there was no penis on the hen - trust me). She wouldn't let it go.

Or how she told everyone we encountered she was going to see where tweety bird worked.

Or how for every single baby animal she saw today produced the following statement from her "awwwwwwww look at the cute baby" in a total high pitched sing song voice.

Or how she has adopted a new laugh and it sounds EXACTLY like Pee Wee Herman's famous "hee hee".

But only one story is needed to wrap up this post. Tonight, at bedtime she leaned over and said to me "I liked the farm today mommy. Can we go again?". There is no way to say no to that. But next time, I'm packing supplies. Momma ain't no fool. Twice.

BTW - thank you so much for all the meme tags, supportive words, and nice stuff (even you Sage). I now have enough memes to stimulate the old brain hole and try to stop the stuttering. Thanks guys, it really is appreciated.

Contests and Cuteness

I can't stand leaving a depressing post at the top - even though it's really how I'm feeling of late.

So let me share some happy stuff:

First up - I'm having my first contest over at motherbumper's laboratory. If you have a Nintendo DS and are jonesing for a copy of Brain Age 2, I'm giving one away to some lucky reader in North America. I've recently reviewed both Brain Age and Brain Age 2 for the DS and love them both. It makes the body and brain goooooooooood... I swear. Also if you love Sudoko like me, well this is the game for you.

Second up - Kirtsy is having (another) cool contest and the prize package (worth over 1000 bucks) is making me drool. There is a gift certificate to Lands End for a new swimsuit, a Sony DVDirect (uh, it plays Blu-Ray folks), beautiful blankets and computer doohickeys and OMG a registration to BlogHer or BlogHer Outreach (oh my holy heck). I swear that those Kirsty women I work with are the absolute rulers of the universe when it comes to contests because their prizes always make me CRAZY. That's it, I'm sure they are sleeping around and taking prizes in exchange for one night in paradise because how else are they getting all this cool shit? [disclaimer: I know they aren't really exchanging sexual favours for cool prizes so don't kick me outta kirtsy, k?]

Third up - cuteness if I do say so myself. And this is what keeps me going most days. It really does.


I've received two meme tags so far and for that I say thank you Don Mills Diva and SciFi Dad. Keep 'em coming folks, I really do lurve y'all (except for you - in the back, with the flaming bag of poo - stay away, ya'hear).

MUB

Mandatory Unloading of Blogage*:

It would not be a stretch for me to say I've started this post at least a dozen times in half as many days. Yes, yes, you've heard that before from many bloggers but at least we all have that (hopefully) occasional frustration in common. Ain't life grand?

Seriously, lately it's like I want to scream out everything but not really because it's not mine to scream. I have a total admiration (and down right jealousy sometimes) of people that can just unload into the blogosphere and stand there, exposed, and inviting discussion. Discussion of their inner most burdens, fears, etcetera. Basically all the stuff I don't cover here.

Okay, so I whine and complain about this and that but I don't really tell "mah story" and that is something I have found very frustrating lately. Very frustrating. And somewhat stressful.

There is fine balance maintained among the baskets I carry, each basket contains another living, breathing soul and while their existence makes their story part of mine, I can't talk about x in basket because it's not my story and my part of the story isn't complete without theirs. Such is life.

Babble babble babble. Yup, one hell of a fun brook I am these days. You know I feel like I'm phoning it in all over the place and it's getting under my skin. Not because I'm really phoning it in, it's that I feel like I'm phoning it in, but in reality, it's more like I'm trying to text from a Maxwell Smart shoe phone and it just ain't compatible with my blogger account yo. I feel disconnected from what's going on out there and that bugs the hell out of me.

See why I didn't want to press publish on this post? I hate rainy days. But today is my day to piddle on the parade.

Regular blogging will resume shortly. Somebody tag me for a meme and pull me outta this mire, k?

* Mandatory Unloading of Blogage: necessary unloading of personal whoa is required from each blogger at least one per twelve month period, a period that begins from conception of blog. More than once a year is completely acceptable but more than five times weekly is not advised.

Oh Vicky you're so fine

Another Victoria Day weekend has passed.

This one was spent staying close to home and doing all sorts of that super fun home stuff. Like sorting out the six boxes of paperwork, four zillion piles of clothing of undetermined cleanliness, and countless containers of "stuff".

The sorting is not finished but boy did we make a dent. I think SB got the most exercise running up and down to the recycling room. Anyhow, enough about the manic cleaning events that I inflict upon my family.

When I was in university, this usually was the first full on camping weekend of the summer. I do realize calling it summer was a stretch but youth is so full of folly. Anyhow, most times we hit the weather jackpot and would gather up a huge gaggle of friends to hit the road, with crappy tents, leaky coolers, and beer as far as the eye could see all in tow. Like most events of my youth, alcohol always trumped food.

Hell, you can always gnaw on your arm or eat some toe jam, but neither will ever get you drunk ;) Oh I kid, a party bag of cheetos is all the nutrition a girl like me needed.

Anyhow, most of my girl friends packed like me: a few packs of smokes in a ziploc bag (only takes one soaked cigarette to never forget that packing tip), juice for mix, and vodka or rum depending on preference for poison. Oh and sunscreen. We weren't completely stupid.

When reminiscing - like now - one Victoria Day weekend memory always comes to mind first. It was the late eighties and for some reason not remembered, my roommate started hanging with these two delightful Deadheads and their equally fantastic girlfriends. They were brothers who were dating sisters and just two of the most wonderful couples I had met during those ol' hay days of studying the classics.

Somehow we all decided we were going camping at this cool provincial park about an hour outside the city. Joining us were three other girls we knew.

The camp grounds were not officially open but the gates were unchained for campers to use. The available and open sites were all around a huge quad. Each site was separated only by thin tree lines so we picked the one furthest away from everyone else because we wanted privacy.

We weren't asshat teens, but we were teens so take that for what it's worth. Anyhow, the most noise we made mostly involved butchering Cat Stevens and Midnight Oil lyrics over poorly tuned guitars strummed with two wanna-be James Taylors. The sun was getting lower in the sky and many parties were breaking out all over the quad.

Many trips had been made to the communal house, for water, ice and potty breaks and somewhere along the way, a group of people had followed one of the girls back to our site.

They seemed friendly enough, two couples joined us at our campfire with their own stash of really cheap red wine.

As time passed, I became suspicious of their motives. Mostly because one of the guys had blatantly got up and checked out all our coolers. Oh and after both stranger guys talking together offside post espionage, the other guy punched out John from my camp for absolutely no reason other than John was sitting across from him.

Yes, it sucked to be jumped by a group who turned out to have a truck. A truck to put our stuff in. When the heck did a truck emerge? I have no idea but there it was - maybe it decloaked, and maybe I shouldn't have had that last vodka and cran.

After noticing the truck in the immediate kurfuffle after the punch, a few other guys with some scary looking girls emerged outta now where, and we realized that our two guys with seven - albeit some as tough as nails - ladies were outnumbered. Thankfully, only some pushing and two punches had been thrown. Lots of slurred words were being exchanged and overall it was just a really loud and strangely surreal "land pirate" event.

Someone not from our site had already called the RCMP and just after the truck load of yee-haws had pulled away a la Duke of Hazard, a solo local park ranger pulled up.

Unfortunately he recognized exactly what had happened since he saw the peeling rubber locals pass on his way in. Apparently the locals did this at least once a year, usually on the first long weekend. What a tradition eh?

Anyhow, Ranger Bob said he'd be back in the morning and not to worry we were safe for the night.

Somehow we made the best of the evening, and after a quick inventory realized the yee-haws hadn't gotten away with much. And John kinda looked good with that black eye. Seriously the guy was like a really well built flower child and the black eye kinda made him look like a tough puppy.

In the morning, it turns out that the entire camp ground had heard the fighting which was unfortunate because it really sucks to hear people getting their asses whooped during a commune with nature.

When the Ranger Bob returned, he escorted us to these really cool back country sites that were just off the road from his cabin, so any yocal local yee-haws had to pass his camp to get in. We spent the last night in peace, under the stars, nursing a few wounds, and retelling the prior nights events.

So despite the memory of the local Summer hazing ritual, and what I remember to be a bad sunburn on my chest (the one spot I forgot), oh and also the soon-to-follow break-ups of the Deadheads and their rockin' girlfriends, that Victoria Day was one of my favourite group camping experiences.

I dunno, after that trip, all non-combative camping trips just seemed so anti-climatic.

************

And have you seen the baby yet? He's here and ready for world domination on his own terms.

Can't help myself: Tropic Thunder

I really want to see this movie:

Robert Downey Jr. is so wrong but so very right.

"just because it's theme music, don't make it not true"

I'm addicted to comedy movies but the good ones are so few and far between. I'm looking to top up my mail-thingy movie rental list, care to share your favourite comedies?

Also acceptable genres: mob, horror, sci-fi

I plead parenthood for not keeping up with the latest films. Now that's an incredibly weak excuse, a kitten could kick it's butt in two seconds flat.

Freaky Friday

photo source: raindog61 on Flickr

Each and every time I join my daughter in the sand with a bucket and shovel, I have this inexplicable fear that I might find a severed finger while digging.

Hasn't happened yet but spring has just arrived and we have a full summer ahead of us.

Hee, I said ahead - maybe that's what I'm destined to find. Oh please don't let that be true.

Anyone have strange irrational playground/toy-related fears? Lay on the couch and talk to Frau Motherbumper, Sigmund taught me everything he knows.

scenes from the subway

Act One:
While standing (crouching actually) on the platform, I could not resist nibbling and making munching noises all over Bumper's head. It's something I've done since day one. She is so delectably delicious, how can I resist?

Anyhow, as I made those (apparently) annoying num-num noises right next to her ear, loud enough for her to hear but not those around us, Bumper announced loudly "STOP".

I stopped and asked why.

"Stop nibbling on me mommy, I'm not that yummy".

She is so wrong.

couldn't resist then, can't resist now

Act Two:
This time I'm by myself and catching to the train to go pick up Bumper. As I sit down on the outward facing seat, I notice the man directly across from me is staring hard. Like creepy hard. Years of subway riding experience has trained me to not sit across from folks like that but I figured I only had one stop - what could happen in one stop?

HA!

So the creep leans over and said "a pretty girl like you deserves a better wedding ring than that".

WTF?

BTW - I picked out my engagement ring with my husband and wear it with a classic band. SB knew better than picking out the symbol of our impending nuptials on his own. But why the hell do I feel like defending it - the guy was an obvious ass.

He also had a shade of crazy in his eyes so I decided to just give him the glare that kills small woodland creatures on contact (not that I go around glaring at small woodland creatures). Why give that wanker the benefit of raising my blood pressure?

What would have you done? Seriously, he made me feel stabby. Dang, I wish I could have thought of a good comeback.