THE FRUCKIN' BLOG


My value … according to a 7YO

This morning I’m not sure what spurred on this conversation, but as I was congratulating Wren on zipping up her own coat I half heartedly joked that she was such a big girl and I was no longer needed for my kids.

I should have known Finn would stew on this and evaluate my statement intensely. A few minutes passed for him to collect his thoughts and here is what he told me:

Finn: Don’t worry mom, I still need you and here are the reasons why:

Sometimes I can’t get my coat zippered either. And who would clean the house for us? I’m not allowed to turn on the oven or the stove, so who would cook us food? If you weren’t here to mow the lawn and I wanted to hop outside (yes he used the word hop) then the grass would be a mile high and I couldn’t leave the house. Who would walk us to the bus? How would we get to school? We couldn’t go out and buy food either because I have no license and no way to get to the grocery store. In fact, I wouldn’t be able to drive anywhere, so we would never leave the house. We could never see our friends and never go to birthday parties.

Me: (of corse I have to be an a hole and make a joke) So really I’m your maid.

Finn: (looking visibly upset) No that’s not it at all mom. You do everything for us, you are always needed.

(commence a hole who starts to tear up at the bus stop)

I know Kristin will love this post, tell me I’ve gone soft and motherly, and this morning I did … for a few minutes at least. Sometimes we need to hear these statements from our kids, that in fact we do make a difference and we aren’t just glorified maids and cooks and personal shoppers and birthday party chauffeurs. As he waved from the bus at me, a huge smile on his face I couldn’t help but pat myself on the back for being so fucking awesome (yes mom I said the f word :).

The Finster

 

You Can’t Take it With You

So this conversation was had last night:

Me: (as we are reading our will before signing) So should we like give stuff to certain people or like bequeath stuff?

Troy: I dunno, who wants this stuff anyways? Do we have anything important to will other than our wedding rings?

Me: You’re right, it’s all just stuff.

Which then has me looking around my house. What is important? What would I save in a fire? What do I want passed down to people that are important to me? The answer is slightly morbid but telling.

Not really anything.

I mean, yes, wedding rings to kids. Maybe my Kitchen Aid mixer for Rhianne as it’s been a long running joke and it’s more for fun then importance. My antique peanut bird dispenser bird thing (I know right) maybe to my dad but he’ll be dead prob when I die. So maybe give it to Rosie as she was with me when I bought it.

Clifford the family dog? Definitely to friends Lisa or Marie cause they hate dogs and that is funny. They will end up giving him to Francis for a chick magnet side kick and that’s how it should be. I mean I’ll be dead, let’s all just have a laugh over my ridiculous life.

When I ventured into the living room, my computer is important but only because of my work, and when I’m dead who gives a crap? My bedroom is devoid of anything but clothes and books really, so nothing there. My Kobo is probably my most valued possession (I’m not joking) and that can be chucked as it’s cracked and wouldn’t mean anything but clutter for anyone I gave it to.

The kids rooms perhaps have the only things I might give away. My creepy doll collection to my sis, our tickle trunk of dress up clothes should definitely go to the Cowans for sentimental reasons, but other then that I have nothing of real importance. Or value.

At all.

And that is perfect.

No people fighting over dumb things. Nothing for my executor to handle. No one wants to live in my small house, so sell it to the neighbors for cheap so they can expand their compound. The cars are crap. Nothing for the kids to fight over, nothing for family to argue about.

I mean, this was an amazing wake up call on what is important in my life. I don’t want to leave a legacy besides security for my kids and that is all I’ve ever focused on. Life insurance up the ass, and boom, spend the rest on trips and books and makeup. I’m happy.

But I think this is a good lesson for myself as well as anyone who might read this: what is truly of value in your life? What is worth putting in your will? I love the idea of a memorandum of fun stuff to give away, THAT will be my legacy. Let’s not be sad. Instead, have a party and here so and so, Kelly wanted you to have the dollar store Halloween crow that has been up for 2 years in her living room…enjoy!

With the holidays around the corner, we all have been guilty of overspending at some point. I mean, why do we attack this commercial crap when it’s going to be thrown out eventually? This time of year is the worst for me. I hate the greed, the commercials that advertise buying diamonds and iPads as normal everyday gifts. It’s not exactly Christmas I hate, it’s the pressure to buy the PERFECT gift which normally translates to lots of money.

A friend of mine had a fantastic suggestion which I have TRIED for years to get my family to follow but no dice. The idea was to give the grandkids ‘experiences’ not presents. Take Finn to LEGOland, Great Wolf Lodge, the zoo, a movie – anything at all. Just do something with them instead of buying stuff that will end up in Goodwill in 6 months.

I still love this idea, and I’m focusing a good chunk of our holiday budget on ski equipment for kids, as well as a ski vacation in February. I don’t care if they like it, they are going to enjoy the good old fashioned family holiday in misery like the rest of us and they will remember it when they are old and grumpy which is more then I can say for half the things in their rooms.

So as I sit here in my kitchen, I feel happy that I ‘think’ I’m doing things right in my life. Enjoying time with friends, having no regrets, not sweating the small stuff or worrying about keeping up with the Jones’. The phrase ‘You Can’t Take It With You’ has never rung more true for me and being on the verge of holiday mayhem I hope I keep up the good attitude and not find myself in Toys R Us in a panic. But if I do, I trust my husband to steer me away…and to a bar.

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This picture makes me want to barf with anxiety over the holidays – lol

 

Pet Frickin’ Peeve Friday

So one of my BIGGEST pet peeves is a literary one, which I am experiencing this week. I read a lot, that is no secret, and one of the most ANNOYING things is when a writer adds in a fake kid character. It’s like how do we give this character more depth? Hey! She should be a hot single mom with a gorgeous and well behaved kid! Or, let’s add in a toddler so that we can show a guy interacting with them and all us girls will swoon over a him being nice to the kid.

Fuck you, this is stupid.

I have no idea if these people even have kids of their own, I would think no, but if they do then they are living in la la land and certainly not using their literary prowess to create a believable character.

They slot the kids into a formula and it drives me to drink my coffee and baileys from my to-go cup while waiting at the bus stop. Stop lying, you’ve all done this.

The formula goes as such:

  • the kid is adorbs – no goofy, nerdy kids allowed. Long flowing hair, perfect curls. No ratty hair, no attempts at pony tails in which the kid pulls them out within seconds. No fall down freak outs because you asked them to wear a button up shirt. They look perfect down to their perfect angelic faces.
  • the childs only dialogue is to say adorbs phrases which, in reality, no kid ever says and which aren’t all that cute either. They show the adult characters breaking up in fits of laughter over a 5 year old mispronouncing something or pretending to be a bird or a dog or some stupid shit like that. This is not funny to an adult. Not remotely.
  • The toddler is always cool in public. No shitting their pants on the bus, or having a tantrum in the check out line because you refuse to buy yet another ten dollar set of pokemon cards. No crush to the ground weeping because they continued to twirl in a parking lot, even though you told them to watch where the crap they were going, but they instead ignored you and twirled over a stick and fell on their knees.
  • The kid always goes to bed on time and without a fuss. No ultimatums to get them to brush their teeth. No hissy fits because you asked them to pee before bed. Just pee, a simple pee, but no, it’s like you asked them to pour arsenic on their eye balls. No waking up at 5:30 either, they seem to always sleep in until after 8, then wake up rosy and happy asking for pancakes in which the mom always seems to have time to make. From scratch.
  • Taking the kid to a restaurant, movie, or any venue is awesome and stress free. Bullshit. Are the writers not going the same places as everyone else on earth? Are they not seeing kids crawl over booths, chucking food on the floor because they thought they wanted fries but actually they didn’t. Or spilling an entire cup of milk on the table? Or running wild in a mall, pulling down clothes, falling down on their face in a wild rage because you told them that a 100.00 lego kit isn’t something you get on a random Tuesday.

These are just some basic examples but they are the most glaring and annoying. Kids are awesome. But they can also be assholes and no one seems to want to portray that on paper. Some do, I’m sure they do, except I can’t source a single example in which the kid was written in truth.

There is absofuckinglutely nothing real about a perfect kid and there is, most certainly, not a mother out there in this whole frigging world that has NEVER ONCE witnessed her kid act like a douchebag.

Oh and don’t get me started on the adult mom or dad who always looks great, especially naked with nary a stretch mark, an ounce of cellulite, even when they couldn’t possibly find time in their busy life to workout. Oh and certainly not a parent who requires counselling just to make sure they aren’t fucking the kids life up.

So let’s work on some dialogue that is way more realistic shall we?

Mom – “Oh, I have a kid, you OK with th — “
Man – “nope, see you fucking later”

(mom walks kid into grocery store and runs into guy she likes)
Mom (flirty but dressed in stained activewear and no makeup so right away she feels like shit) – “hey, how are y —“ (kid constantly yells at mom to buy corn pops, candy, jumping around like a tit head, knocking into fellow shoppers, knocking glass bottles off the shelf ending with mother threatening little jimmy with no netflix until he is 18)
Man – “nope, see you fucking later”

(mom asks kid to set table)
Mom – “hey, can you set the table?”
Mom – “I said, can you set the table?”
Mom – “Can you stop watching TV for one frickin second and set the frickin table?”
(kid eventually emerges, asking what she wants them to do 14 more times before they start setting the table, but then flips the fuck out and screams on the floor for 15 minutes because their favourite spoon is in the wash)

I think you get the point.

I guess they want to create a perfect fantasy for you to read and get lost in which is fine in some ways but in others I want to reach inside the book and strangle the perfect beautiful mom and her perfect beautiful kid. Real can be cute, it can be endearing, but it can also be funny and I wish I could find that.

OK rant over, proceed with your day.

If You Can’t Do Something At Least Look Good Doing It

So, what I want to write about this morning isn’t anything at all what I am going to write about. Let’s just say that as a mother, my limits were tested to the breaking point or as I will now coin the term – THE WREN POINT. I was giddy at the bus stop. GIDDY.

Small snippet:

Hi Wren, here’s some banana (screams and yells and spits banana everywhere)

Hey Wren, nose and toes to the wall, time out for you (screams and kicks me for 15 min)

Finn: Mom you are scary when Wren makes you mad. (Sorry Finn – massive guilt kicks in)

Hey Wren (finally able to come to eat) here’s some food, please eat (two bites later, I’m done)

Hey Wren, you’re going to die if you don’t start eating (I WANT TO DIE THEN!)

Hey Wren, this is wasteful (WHO CARES)

Hey Wren, let’s get dressed (NOPE)

Hey Wren, let’s try to pee (FUCK YOU MOM)

… so after dressing a rag doll, brushing teeth on a kid who wouldn’t open her mouth and dragging her to the bus stop this is her final good bye:

“BYE CLIFFORD – I LOVE YOU! (blows kisses and gets on the bus with a smile)”

MOTHER FUC — ER

OK, on to better topics. Clothes!

So a few weeks ago we decided we were going full throttle – a skiing family in the making. Three hills are within an hour from us, and we booked a holiday in Mont Tremblant so it’s time to put yourself out there and break a leg. Joking. I hope.

We took Finn to the Loretto Ski Shop which I have to say was hilarious. A former ski hill, turned ski shop, in the middle of absolute nowhere, in a house. But it was hopin’ and there was a Ski Swap so we outfitted Finn in some used boots. Awesome older guy really knew his stuff. A kijiji stop later and we had skis for him too.

Oh so what do you do next, you drive to Collingwood ‘just to look’ at their ski sale …

Ski Sales Man: So how many times did you ski last year?

Me: Uh I don’t know …

Ski Man: Half a dozen?

Me: Uh … no less then that …

Ski Man: So a couple?

Me: Uh … once?

So obviously seeing someone who cares nothing for money, 1400 later, Troy and I look amazing in our new boots and skis.

Then I read in a mag last night that Gwen Stefani has a line with Burton for Snowboarding gear. Well HELLO, this is my new favourite sport. So I felt it would be nice foray into the season change to plan out some outfit choices for skiing and apres ski – the best part really. We will embrace winter in this frigid country and look amazing doing it!

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I just need to perfect this angsty glare, then I will fit right in.

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Love this. Whip off that jacket in front of the fire, look at me, I still am awesome under this coat. Plaid meet leopard print meet British invasion.

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This has been in my cart since last night. Troy tells me we are hunkering and I shouldn’t spend. I say – how can I not?

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I’m not fussy on the print near the bottom, but for some reason the stripped cuffs speak to me. Plus it’s a mitt and I think I would do better skiing in a mitt. I’m more mitty then glovey.

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I’m kinda jazzing on this print..

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Mint ski pants – yes please!

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I’ve found my jacket …

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These are pretty awesome.

So now I leave you to carry on with my day of quiet bliss but as a parting shot, I will end this post with the song that Troy and I belt out each time we discuss our upcoming ski adventures. It dates us terribly but some of you will be able to relate. I need some gum …

Sick Kids Suck Donkey Dink

Ok my mom is going to hate that title but it’s the truest statement that flew out of my frustrated mouth this morning.

Wren’s sick.

Enough said for most people but my god she is so DIFFICULT.

Let’s rewind to her sad face on Tuesday night after school in which she asked to go to bed at 5:45 and immediately I felt sorry for her and coddled. Yes I can coddle. I sent her to bed, barely got frustrated (sorta barely) when she woke at 2:45 for 90 min because she needed fresh water by her bedside, a back rub, to pee, and then wanted me to sing to her (I know, clearly she is ill).

SIDE NOTE: Sick kids ALWAYS happens while Troy is out of the country — ALWAYS.

Back to Wren. So my girlfriend texted me that her daughter got some weird mouth/foot/hand illness and wanted to warn me as she was with Wren this weekend so I immediately felt like Wren was destined for this fate. An hour later after pouring over WebMD I was convinced. Wren said her hand was sore while washing, her feet sore when she wore shoes the other day. Yes, strange disease symptoms – check.

Future Kelly would realize that Wren complains a lot. Sore feet, sore hand, sore freckle, she’s dramatic. But Compassionate Mom Kelly didn’t think of this. My sympathy was set, I was going to keep her home from school all week, she was so very sad and sick.

Wednesday she woke up OK, no signs of freaky disease but I’m still Compassionate Mom Kelly, I will keep her home. She needs to rest and I am going to push off work and be awesome mom.

It wasn’t a BAD day really, I mean, there were moments, but until Finn came home, things were rolling and she seemed totally on the mend. UNTIL Finn asked to watch one of his shows and she had to share the TV, UNTIL she refused to let Finn talk to me, UNTIL she didn’t get what she wanted for supper, UNTIL Finn and I had to eat our entire supper while she rolled on the ground, screaming and refusing to eat a thing, UNTIL I told her she was going back to school the next day, UNTIL I asked her to brush her teeth, UNTIL I asked her to do ANYTHING.

By 6PM Compassionate Mom Kelly was submitting her resignation. I feel like when I write these stories, I have to preface I love my kids, but let’s be honest anyone who has to deal with a sick kid knows, and I mean KNOWS, that they turn into little assholes. It’s a fact. Sorry to all you out there who think I’m a jerk. So be it. To those who understand this rant, may your Sick Kid days be few and faaaaaaaaar between.

The Sick Kids Myth List:

  1. Sick kids are grateful you took off an entire day of work to spend time with them
  2. Kids appreciate watching TV in jammies all day
  3. Sick kids nap… for sure right?
  4. They will eat your complete comfort food supper and not flail on the ground for 35 minutes chanting ‘I want milk’ instead
  5. They are too tired to scream for 35 min
  6. Their throat is too sore to scream for 35 min
  7. They go to bed on time because they are so sick and need their rest
  8. They don’t sit there and yell at you because you want a 5 minute break to see the ball game that is perhaps the most exciting game you have ever seen
  9. They always take their medicine
  10. They never choose something completely rational (like eating a muffin) and turn it into something completely irrational (like eating plutonium)

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Yeah she looks super sick…