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Until Next Time

A crazy flash storm in Toronto caused flooding of some roadways and shut down the subway. We lost power and Ed spent over three hours walking home from work. Then I had hours of prep to get ready for a pest control company to treat our house. And now we are heading to the cottage until Sunday! Well, not our cottage of course, but somebody’s cottage.

So it looks like this is vacation week at the blog. See you next week, dear readers, with tales of wholesome summer fun because nothing ever goes wrong on family getaways, right?!

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Mom Confession, Toilet-Training Edition

Sometimes,

When we have just celebrated a post-nap pee on the toilet and a still-dry Pull-up,

That same toilet-training toddler

Appears at my side no more then three minutes later,

Saying,

“Poo poo. Poo poo. Poo poo,”

And we race back into the bathroom,

Pull down her Pull-up,

And plop her back onto the toilet seat,

In mid poop,

And the still-dry Pull-up gets barely-there poo streaks on it.

And sometimes,

I put it back on her anyway.

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5 Summer Vacation Lunch Ideas

As part of the ongoing effort to maximize Facebook list making serious and important work time while the kids are home, I thought up five summer vacation lunch options that require little if any prep on your part.

1. Peanut butter and a loaf of bread.

Get it yourself.

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Better Than Fine Canada Day

Canada Day weekend? Oh yeah, we hung around here, didn’t do anything.

We didn’t go to a cottage or on a road trip. We didn’t go to the Pride festivities or to Rib Fest. We didn’t check out any fireworks. I didn’t catch up on the laundry or finish sorting out the playroom. I didn’t manage to write any of the things that I should have and I somehow forgot to go grocery shopping.

But, you know, it was fine.

That’s the story I’ll tell myself. But it wasn’t fine. It was so much better than fine.

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The Last Day of School

It’s the last day of school! Woohoo! Tonight I shall go out for drinks with my sister and not make anybody a lunch and not bother to set the alarm.

Then we will while away our days drinking lemonade and mint juleps on my wraparound veranda, the sweet smell of honeysuckle in the air. (Actually, come to think of it, that last part might be lifted from a Tennessee Williams play.)

And when I do finally rise in the morning the children will be happily reading nursery rhymes to one another as the morning light streams through the window. I will quickly and efficiently prepare them a wholesome breakfast and then take care of my housework while they play catch and blow bubbles in the backyard.

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A Grown-Up Cereal. Kids Optional.

My rambling thoughts about cereal are brought to you by General Mills

Somebody sent me a box of cereal to try. Somebody sent me a box of cereal to try out for myself. It wasn’t for the kids. It was for me.

I have been in the trenches trying to feed and nourish three young children for so long, you guys, that I didn’t even know what I was looking for in a cereal. I mean, what I usually look for could be charted somewhere toward the top of a parabola where the likelihood of my kids’ eating is compared with the nutritional value of the cereal. But me? Well, I usually just drink a pot of coffee before lunch. Is that … bad?

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13 Parenting Tips That Can Bite Me

1. Pack up 3/4 of their toys and then cycle them back in so they don’t get tired of them.

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Great! I just need to figure out where I shall send my kids for a week while I sort through and pack up toys according to three different and ever-changing gender or taste and age-range groupings and then hope they have no medium term memory whatsoever about that toy they never played with ever but must have RIGHT NOW since it’s been packed away. I need to build a storage unit for all of the boxes too while I’m at it and then padlock it against my children.

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Grown-Up Meals

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The last post for The All Good Blog by McCain that came out of the conversation I had with Calgary radio host and DadCAMP blogger, Buzz Bishop, and Laura O’Rourke of Mommy Miracles is all about eating without kids. Now you’re talking!

Actually, as I read it over, I realized why my wedding anniversary just came and went without even the passing thought of dinner reservations.

A proper, adult night out is SO MUCH work. I have to start planning for it first thing in the morning, really. Isn’t that pathetic? I’ll have already lined up my mom to come sit, but I don’t want her to have to do anything besides hang with the kids. So I’ll try to get any deadlines met or loose ends taken care of in the morning and then spend toddler naptime showering and choosing an outfit, rushing around the house trying to tidy up and laying out the kids’ PJs on their beds. After school I rush whoever has homework up to take care of it, make them a light snack and then pop a frozen pizza or chicken fingers or whatever in the oven.

Inevitably, when my mom arrives I am still in the washroom putting the finishing touches on my makeup and hobbling around on one high-heeled shoe trying to figure out where one of my daughters made off with the other one.

Check out the rest to see how I stumbled on my new favourite pastime: date night in.

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The Best Little Laugh: Mary Edition

This adorableness has been generously sponsored by Fisher-Price.

“Where are your shoes, Mary?” I ask with an exaggerated lilt.

She looks around and spots one by front door. Putting a little hustle into her waddle, she rushes over to pick it up.

“Unn . . . sue!” she says and beams.

“That’s right, Mary!” I say, my voice registering an impossible level of excitement. “One shoe! But where is the other one? Where is your other shoe?”

That’s right. We are upping the ante now, people, and it’s going to be good.

She looks all around. She squats and tilts her head to one side. She stands up and holds her hands with palms upturned. Her face scrunches up in distress. “Ah gone. Gone!”

“What’s that, baby girl? Your shoe is gone?” I say and then scoop her up into my arms. “It’s all gone?!”

“Ah gone!”

She furrows her brow and looks at me.

“All gone!”

I smile. Then her scowl starts to crack and her little face erupts into a grin. Then she starts to giggle and so do I. She’s laughing now, a big, full-belly chuckle. And I’m laughing too, laughing so hard my heart hurts from the love.

* * *

It kills me sometimes to think how fleeting these moments are. When I think back to when Colum was a baby, I can remember times like these. I remember rolling around on my bed with him, laughing and laughing and laughing at nothing at all. Or I remember that it happened anyway. The sharpness is starting to blur in those older memories, the details of his face and how he sounded are badly faded.

So I’m really happy I managed to capture this video of Mary a couple months ago. (Sorry, Colum.)

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My Life is Like a Seesaw

Screw balancing act. My life is like a seesaw. And it’s not like those spring mounted teeter totters our precious children have now that rock up and down ever so smoothly either. No, it’s more like the wooden kind that always gave you inner thigh splinters and would send you flying six inches into the air every time your big brother brought his side down as fast as he could and then crashed hard when he’d suddenly jump off.

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I’ve been feeling like I’ve been riding high on the work side of the teeter totter while my poor, neglected children and house were left bumping up and down on the dirt ground. Their side has been weighted down with piles of tasks left undone and the ensuing chaos. What’s that? Enough with the see saw metaphor? Okay, fine.