Helpful Tips To Survive The Impending Arrival of School As Mothers Everywhere Collectively Sigh

back-to-school-pdt

As school approaches, some young ones are entering the halls of academia with bated breath and a full back pack with shit nobody needs. Parents watch, teary eyed as their son or daughter board the crammed school bus teaming with like-minded juveniles waiting to trade sandwiches and securing the best seat for the rest of the year, all the while thinking their teacher is going to resemble the wicked witch of the west and be the meanest thing since Gordon Ramsay yelled “Get the hell outta ma kitchen!” 

IN my house, my youngest son is entering his last year of junior high.   It seems like he’s been there forever.  D2 is starting University and is quaking in her proverbial rubber boots and D1 is beginning nursing school.  She seems to have grasped the phrase “shit-wiper” very well.  Ahhh…the future looks very interesting for ma brood…

In starting the school year off right, I thought I would dispense some tips to assist with all the scheduling, fighting, crying and air-punching that may occur in the coming days…and with the kids’ having to watch us do all those things. Yeah.   Let’s not forget the kids.  It’s not always about you.  Geesh.

1.     *It pays to pay.  That’s right. Pay somebody to get all the school supply shit that your kids need so you can spend more time shopping for important things like wine.  And, shoes to wear to the 10 minute parent’s meetings at report card time.  ‘Cause really, what else are you gonna talk about to the twenty-something teacher just out of university and worried about going to the bar on Friday night with her boyfriend?  Pfft…

2.     *Don’t stress about what ‘other’ parents are giving their kids for lunch.  Throw caution to the wind and give them the healthy non-allergenic, peanut-free, organic, sugar-free, soy-based, gluten free shit we all grew up on and loved.  That leaves a tossed salad with fat free dressing and an apple.  YUMMY!  Don’t forget the tofu cookie with carob chips!  A kid’s gotta have some fun.

3.     *  Fashion…where’s Stacy London when you need her?  The kids are concerned about shit that we have no clue existed and NEED us to buy it for them.  It’s like our God-given duty as parents to wander the earth in search of the latest this or that to make them look…like what exactly?  Like a super-model from California?   Puhleeease.  Throw them a pair of jeans from Walmart and tear off the dreaded George label, affix one you made with pieces of fabric from hand-me-downs that their cousin gave you like a dozen weeks ago and voila!  An instant ‘new designer’ label from New York that the Olsen twins endorse, and you bought off the internet that ONLY YOUR KID has.  She thinks you’re fucking awesome and you get the Mom of the Year Award for Originality and Creativity. Win- Win!  You rock!

4.     * Homework…we all know this sucks royally, but the kids have to do it.  So let’s all take a breath before submitting to the dreaded homework duty like an addict before random drug trials, and take stock in knowing that homework will NEVER go away.  And besides…we all have Friday drink nights to kill a few more brain cells, so when we do go back to assisting our kids with the homework, we can answer honestly that we have no fucking clue how to do any of the math they have placed in front of us.  Google it, kid.  It’s the new encyclopedia. 

I hope you have all found these tips useful in the coming days.

Good luck and good schooling.

May the bus be early, the clothes be clean and everybody be smiling so mommy can get back to her shit, because really…it IS all about us. 

He's probably sitting at the back of the bus. Good thing.

He’s probably sitting at the back of the bus. Good thing.

 

 

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Walking From Zombies Would Be So Much More Fun If There Were Actual Zombies Following Me

  Since my knee has been giving me trouble, I have been relegated to walking instead of running.  In response to this downward spiral of activity, my body has rebelled by gaining pounds (I’ll not say how many, but it’s akin to a cute baby beluga) and my metabolism as slowed to a near snail-like pace.  Nice.

Yesterday was a nice day and as I was still in vacay-mode, I set off on a walk.  These are the thoughts that invaded my head during that hour- long sojourn into ass pain:

“This walking-shit sucks”

“This blows chunks.  I fucking hate this”

(These first two thoughts were made in less than 1 minute into the walk)

“This is going to take me forever”

“Ugh…whose idea was this?”

“Oh I so much would rather be running like you”  *longingly looks at a runner perhaps too creepily as she gives me a weird look and rushes off*

“Fuck off, I hate this shit too. Stop looking at me like I’m a 90year old grandmother”

“At least if I had a somewhat normal semblance of a dog, I could probably take her with me. Instead, I get mini-Cujo with allergies and hyper-sensitivities to anything that moves.”

“I love that damned dog”

“Maybe I should concentrate on my next great post.”

“’Great’ being the optimal word. I rock”

“I need a new job”

“One where I get paid oodles of money without leaving the comfort of my house”

“I just described everyone’s dream situation.  We should all work from home.  And bake cookies.  And drink wine”

wine and cookies

“I wonder if all stay-at-home and work-from-home peeps do that…bake cookies and drink wine all day.  When do they do laundry or clean?”

“Hire a maid.”

“Yeah.  Great plan”

“Mmmmm…wine.  I need more.  Hey, I didn’t drink that much on holiday.”

“That lemon-drop martini was awesome.  I soo should learn how to make that mutha for DH”

“And I developed a whole new appreciation for Sangria.  Should make that stuff up too.”

“Man I have a lot of drinking plans ahead of me.  Sad? Or rockin’?”

“Def. Rockin’”

“I need a good story idea for the CBC contest.”

“Hmmm…mystery?  Nah. Definitely not romance…crap.”

“Yeah, you’re running, I’m walking. You’re awesome and I’m old.  I’m almost over it.”

“Who am I kidding?  This supremely sucks”

“I’ve decided I need more socialization with other people.  Maybe I should take obedience classes like Maggie”

“Maybe there’ll be a Benny in my class too!  THAT WOULD BE SO AWESOME!”

“Look, lady if you’re going to stop for me, stop. Otherwise go on into the intersection that is laden with speeding vehicles and take your life into your own hands.  Become one with the road!”

“ASS”

“I have nothing but contempt and ire-ridden loathing…hey! I’m almost home!”

“And me just about to continue my negative shit-storming.”

“This wasn’t so bad”

*approaches door*

“Who am I kidding?”

*walks inside porch*

“This totally blew chunks.

Maybe if there was a gang of zombies following me, it would make the whole walking thing a bit more interesting.

Maybe if there was a gang of zombies following me, it would make the whole walking thing a bit more interesting.

 

What I Did For My Summer Vacation and Pictures To Prove It

I always find traveling stressful, but my levels of anxiety hit the proverbial roof when D1 decided to join Hubby and son and I on the New York leg of our vacation.  Originally, we were headed to the Canada Games to watch D2 and her rowing teams in Sherbrooke, Quebec, then going on from there to the Big Apple, sans the daughters, for some big city adventure.  D2 was heading back home after her Games competition with her team and D1 was staying put.  (We, Hubby and I, had advised D1 that if she wished to accompany us on any of our travels, we expected her to contribute, ie. pay her flights.  She said ‘no way’ we said, ‘ok’.  The night before we leave, she cries, laments then finally plops down and arranges her flights to and from New York.)  The worry ensues after Canada Games as she was only going to New York with us and she was left to manage Toronto Airport independently. Her connecting flight to La Guardia was three hours after landing in T.O. but she had to make it through customs, retrieve her bag and put it back in the correct baggage conveyor, then get to her gate…We had separate flights from Montreal straight to La Guardia.  Texting packages are a MUST HAVE.  She did fine…after only one mental breakdown and some ‘interesting’ texts….

THAT is what mothers are for.  We get the breakdowns, the laments, the cries of ” I DON’T KNOW WHERE I AM AND NOBODY WILL HELP ME!  WHAT DO I DO? WHY ARE YOU NOT ANSWERING ME??!!”  I calmly explained it was because, I WAS ON A FUCKING PLANE and therefore, was unable to answer your BATSHIT-LIKE CRAZY TEXTS. OR, “I’m so sorry you are having a bad experience.  Find a nice person to ask and bug them until they give you an answer you understand”.  Yeah.  I’m nice sometimes…

Just to let you all know, Sherbrooke was wonderful and very hospitable.  Despite my lack of Francais, I managed with a bi-lingual son (who incessantly reminded me that my annunciation of any and all French words was atrocious and should not be heard anywhere on the planet.  Nice. )  and some very interesting hand gestures.  There were some young people who were unable to speak ANY English and quickly found someone who understood my dying need for a tea (for Hubby) and a coffee at Tim’s.  I have some pics of Lake Magog where D2 had her rowing competitions.  It was all very exciting and she coxed the women’s 8 and the mens’ 8 to the finals, coming in 6th overall on both counts.  A lot of fun and she was very happy with her teams performances, considering the other provinces had athletes on their way to national teams and were given more access to expert training experiences.  Some even training in Florida during the winter months.  I think all things considered, Team NL had a good showing.

D2 and her men's team

D2 and her men’s team

New York city was a whole other animal.  We flew into La Guardia and expected a hopping bustling metropolis airport, but instead found a small easy-to-follow-that-even-I-couldn’t-get-lost-in building that sent me into drivels of excitement and awe.  THANK God, D1 had only to walk down a flight of stairs to meet us where we waited for three hours after our flight landed and heard great questions from the Airport folk, like “You are all from Newfoundland? Wow, it must take you guys like an hour to get to Greenland!  You must go there A LOT”  Ummmm….Who the fuck goes to Greenland on purpose??!!

Yeah, he looked so disappointed at our answers of “No, we don’t go to Greenland, like EVER.”  Sorry, dude.

I would so like to go into a minute-by-minute play-by-play of how our escapade into the City that Never Sleeps went, but I wouldn’t want to bore you all into a City That Always Sleeps, so here are some tips and highlights that we found useful while visiting the home of El Gupowitz. Whom I didn’t see. Unfortunately.

1. Take every possible bus tour available.  It helped us get a ‘lay of the land’ so to speak and SOME of the tour guide peeps were awesome…some were inaudible and seemed rather bored with us.  I got a lot from the guy who knew every possible detail about the architecture of every possible building in New York and Brooklyn.  I found him interesting…Hubby found him annoying.  Whatevs…,.

She obviously found the bus ride as enthralling as Hubby...you two should have sat together...

She obviously found the bus ride as enthralling as Hubby…you two should have sat together…

2.   We stayed right smack dab in the middle of Times Square.  The hotel was quiet since we were facing towards the river…kinda.  It was there somewhere behind the apartment buildings, I’m sure it was.  Either way, we were able to walk out of the hotel and be right in the middle of stuff that no one in a lifetime should witness. EVER. 

Times Square

Times Square

3. A map is my bestest friend.  New York is on a grid so the streets were easy to get lost on, I mean, reassess my original position and get to the destination without too much ‘recalculating’ going on.  The only real time I got confused is coming back from Central Park, we were walking, Hubby and son left daughter and I in Century 21 (mistake 1) and ASSUMED I could find Broadway.( mistake 2)  Oh, I found Broadway, until Columbus reared its head and I crossed three streets unnecessarily to find myself back on Broadway.  It was all confusing…and raining…and we were tired.  What?  We made it back to the hotel before Hubby and son…cause they stopped at McDonald’s (eww) for shakes.  Ugh…a big city and they go to McDonald’s….apparently, American McDonald’s make milkshakes better/different than the Canadian McDonald’s…apparently.  I have no scientific proof of this.  Only son’s word. Which is about as scientific as it gets, around here.  

D1 in Central Park..."Ummm...weren't we supposed to go that way?" Ugh.

D1 in Central Park…”Ummm…weren’t we supposed to go that way?” Ugh.

4. Asking for a ‘pop’ will get you a weird look.  We had lunch at a diner in Times Square and I made the mistake of asking for a pop…soda in the USA.  My bad.  I didn’t think it was that much of a difference, but I was wrong.  She gave me the ‘what the hell are you talking about?’ look, to which I quickly realized my mistake.  After that, it was back to asking for a Diet Coke.

The guys in the kitchen at Lombardi's Pizza.  They made our pizza and gave me wine....I like those guys.

The guys in the kitchen at Lombardi’s Pizza. They made our pizza and gave me wine….I like those guys.

5.  How do you pay for the Subway?  The tokens look exactly like our loonies and it was downright confusing for us to differentiate between the two.  We finally figured out the subway machine and once we pissed off the subway token-lady with all of our questions and had a hell of a time manoeuvring the turnstile so we could all get through without broken pelvic bones, we were on our way.  It cut down our travel time in huge amounts.

Holiday 2013 506

6. It’s not the New Yorkers who are rude, it’s the other tourists.  Yes, we were pushed aside, snubbed, and cut in front of, not by the locals but by other tourist-peeps.  Take it easy, will ‘ya?  Geesh.  We found the local New York crowd pleasant, happy to help and downright congenial.  Thanks, eh.

7. There’s lots of walking so wear comfortable shoes.  Hubby was disappointed that I wasn’t wearing heels the whole time…huh?  Walk in those puppies, will ‘ya?!  I wore my unfashionable Skechers most of the time and my feet were thankful.  We walked EVERYWHERE.  Much better way to see the city…and great exercise. 

8. We saw a celebrity and didn’t know who she was.  Oops…Lady GaGa was premiering her new music video unbeknownst to us regular Un-GaGa-like fans.  Did you know that much to a Canadian’s delight, there are TWO Tim Horton’s in Times Square??!!  SQUEEEEE!  Son and I were on our way to one of these little Canadian Havens, when lo and behold a big black car makes its way down Times Square and loads of peeps were milling around and son and I were like “WTF?” (only I said that, son just nodded in agreement) and then we were like “Who Dat?” and then I snapped this:

GaGa in a car with some scary dudes.  I know.  I can feel your excitement.  Calm the fuck down.  Geesh.

GaGa in a car with some scary dudes. I know. I can feel your excitement. Calm the fuck down. Geesh.

AND THEN, somebody said “Lady GaGa” and we were like “Ohhhhh…k” . 

THE END

9. Always have Advil, bandaids and extra umbrellas on hand when it decides to rain, or D1 decides a random brain tumor has returned and she needs to take an Advil or 5 and then it rains and we need chocolate from the M&M store to make us feel better and of course the Ferris wheel at Toys R Us because we are “still kids you know” and need to have fun.  Yeah.

The Ferris wheel at Toys R Us...awww....

The Ferris wheel at Toys R Us…awww….

So, I wish I could come up with one more point, but I fear this is way too long already and I’ve noticed that Hubby has poured himself a glass of wine without me, so lest I be left out completely, I should saunter over to the comfy couch and get some wine before he drinks it all. 

Thanks for reading and for all your good behaviour, I give you the naked cowboy.  Only he wasn’t really naked like the pink lady, he had on underwear…she was just wearing body paint.  Totally normal for Times Square I hear. 

The Nekked Cowboy serenading, the...police?  hahaha

The Nekked Cowboy serenading, the…police? hahaha

The Pink Lady...yeah.

The Pink Lady…yeah.

A view from Top of the Rock

A view from Top of the Rock

Holiday 2013 513

 

I Have No Business Watching the Osmonds or Reading King…Apparently

Please tell me why I just spent ninety minutes watching the Osmonds’ life story? Ugh… I shit you not, that’s exactly what I did for NINETY INANE MINUTES.  How is that even legal?

 My life has reached a point of stagnation that a movie about the Osmonds manages to hold my attention FOR NINEY MINUTES.  I just kept watching and watching.  It was like I couldn’t tear my eyes away and when the Donny and Marie show spirals out of control it was like I was reliving the tragedy “I’m a little bit country” all over again…then they lose 80 million dollars (yeah, 80 million) and then they start a tour again, then Merril faints (oh noooo)  and then suddenly, they’re all grown up and singing on some wanton stage dressed in black, “He’s ma Brother”   The End.  There.

 I just saved you from having to watch that movie. 

You. Are. Welcome.

RUN KIDS, RUN!!

RUN KIDS, RUN!!

In other relevant news, I just finished reading Under the Dome by Mr. King and it was fabulous.  A tad long, but great.  Wonderful.  You all should read it…just kinda flip through some of the non-essential boring stuff…you’ll see what I mean if you get the epic book that could double as the manual for orchestrating world domination with nothing more than a few arm bands and lighter fluid.  AND, written in Japanese…It’s huge and heavy so if you plan on carrying it around with you, don’t.  You’ll end up in the emergency room with back spasms or shoulder issues. They (meaning Steve) should have affixed a warning label on the cover stating the weight of the book may cause damage to your central nervous system if carried long distances.  Or brain issues if you read incessantly for periods of time that you get confused if there’s a dome surrounding your house or if that’s just your cat blocking the windows with her giant fur-clad body. Or when the next case of radiation may spontaneously invade your space that you think you need to run to Walmart to see if they have wayward lead rolls in stock to cover the windows of your car should you choose to drive up to the nearest cliff to see the strange purple flashing light….it’s a King book, remember?

Bigger than the dome

Bigger than the dome

  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  It’s a two-man lift, …or two-woman lift…or one-man/one-woman lift.  An epic saga in that I-wanna-read-it-all-in-one-sitting-but-I’m-slowly-going-crosseyed-and-what’s-that-strange-idiotic-cat-doing-since-I-don’t-own-a-fucking-cat kinda book.  You get what I’m saying here…IT’S FUCKING HEAVY.   Just to be clear. 

‘Cause that was totally comprehensible…

It’s been a long day.  I need wine.   I could possibly be checking in with you all later this evening if I’m not drunk…or it may be more fun if I am.  Either way. 

Wine.

 

 

 

 

Friday With Annie

IT’S FRIDAY!!!

I hope all of your weeks went well.  To kick off what is hopefully to be an awesome fun-filled weekend, I am posting an oldie but a goodie.

I give you the Eurythmics with ‘I Need A Man’…not that I do, I already have a great one…Hubby and I will be celebrating our 22nd Anniversary tomorrow!

Awwwww…

So, in  honor of said day, I give you Annie…in all her Monroe-esque glory.

Have fun kids and stay safe….