Dear Tooth Fairy Inc.,
First, I would like to thank you for all your company's support in the early 80's. I was the beneficiary of $3.00 from your organization in your recycling program. I am pleased to report that the funds were put to good use and were greatly appreciated. I am however writing to you to log a complaint about your Teething program.
We had heard many good things about your Basic Teething program and were very excited to join. However, we did not receive any service till a week ago while most others we know have been receiving service for at least a few months. This delay has resulted in delayed chewing, toothless smiles and general mockery from peers.
We have also been subject to your services at times that are most inconvenient for us. I would like to formally request that all teething take place from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. This 2-hour 2:30 a.m. service is not acceptable.
We also had hoped that this program would be delivered quickly and efficiently. Yet we have received it neither way. Your program has made our client turn into a drooling, cranky, crying mess. It has also lasted about 7 days. We would like to see a quick end to this program in a friendly manner. However, if we are not satisfied by the end of this week, we will cancel this program all together.
We are also not sure if you are to blame for this new body rash. If so, we ask you to cease that service as it was not ordered with the Basic Teething Program.
We appreciate your immediate attention to these matters and we look forward to having teeth in the next few days. Should we not receive any teeth by Friday, September 30th, you will hear from our lawyer as our sanity will not last beyond that. We hope this can be resolved quickly and we look forward to being a part of the recycling program in a few years.
Regards,
Teething in Ottawa
P.S. I also feel I must apologize for any remarks made against your organization in the month of June and August. We realize we slandered your name when we thought we were receiving poor services from your organization. We realize after that fact that it was in fact the Urinary Team that was providing poor quality work. Our apologies for any harm our poor taste in language may have caused. Thank you.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Attack of the gnome people
I love this hat! My mom made it for Owen (obviously). He is just too cute in it. Thank god my mom is around to give him all those fabulous home made things that I am too craftily-inept to make for him. It took me FIVE years to make a Christmas wall hanging. It was cross stitch and took me forever. I decided I had to finish it for last Christmas. I was literally finishing it the weeks before Owen was due. Well on the 24th of November, I was just putting the finishing touches on it and I said out loud "Ok kid, just let me finish this and then you can come". No word of a lie, I put the finished wall hanging in a drawer and my water broke as I was shutting the drawer. Cris is my witness!! I think we were both ready, Owen and I. My five year project was behind me so now I could handle a little thing called labour. 
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Closed for business
I was starting to think about all the things I will be able to do when I stop breast feeding. Don't get me wrong- I am not looking forward to stopping. But I figure there better be a silver lining. So here is my list of things:
- Being able to take medicine when I am sick!
- Wearing bras that lift the ladies above the equator
- A full nights sleep
- Other people being able to put Owen to bed (cough cough... Cris)
And that is about it. Short list. Pointless post but I wanted to get the jab at Cris in...
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
The lazy mom's promises
On the car ride to TO, I like to have a book on tape. Makes the time go a little faster then listen to the bad music Cris likes or fuzzy radio stations. For what ever reason this trip, I picked up "100 promises to my baby" by Mallika Chopra (daughter of Deepak Chopra). Yeah I know. It's like a bad horror movie: Your screaming at me "no don't look in the closet in your underwear. The guy with the mask is in there!" But being the dumb, half-naked girl who is the first to be offed by the bad guy, I open the closet any way. And 100 meditations that I couldn't possibly live up to are sprayed all over the walls.
Admittedly, some of the stories and traditional myths were really interesting. But for the most part, I was reminded that I a) don't have THAT much time on my hands and b) Owen is in deep trouble. Most of my promises to him are to not let him sit in a dirty diaper for longer then I can stand the smell, to ensure that most sharp objects are out of both of our reach and that I won't forget to pick him up from day care (mostly because I am sure I will get a reminder call if I do). But I thought maybe just maybe I could come up with a few on my own.
I managed six:
1) I promise to introduce you to people who will be able to teach you to skate, can help with math homework and conjugate French verbs. I have a few lined up so far, but the French verb one may take a while. So no matter my (or your father's) shortcomings, I promise to try and make up for them.
2) I promise to pick out only a modestly huge home in California when you go to play for the Raiders, or become a famous doctor or become a major lawyer. This also means I promise not to live with you again. But you have to pay for the house. Consider it pay back for the 50 cent weekly allowance.
3) I promise not to let you watch really scary movies that will scar you for life like "Return of the living dead", "Friday the 13th" and the complete Michael Jackson "Thriller" video. Trust me, you will thank me later. I still can't dance naked in a cemetery when it rains. (If you haven't seen "Return of the Living Dead", this comment is beyond you and you should probably ignore it.)
4) I promise to let you fall down, bump your head, make mistakes and pull headsets down on your head. I will try not to always catch you, or hold your hand or have all the answers. But I will always be behind you with hands out just in case. And I will keep bandaids in my back pocket with the hugs.
5) I promise to capture every bad hairstyle, outfit or girlfriend on film. We will make sure we video all awful band concerts, school dances and school plays. And then promptly bring the evidence out in front of all your cool friends.
6) I promise to smooth out any stray hairs with my spit, to buy you pants that are too short, force you to go to drugstores while I buy feminine products (or even worse condoms), I will wave at you as you step up to bat and scream your name and blow kisses and make comments about making "goals" so you can roll your eyes, I will make you wear a sweater your grandmother made with puffy sleeves and reindeer on it. I will take you to your first day of school- every single one, even university, and sob in front of your friends. I know you will tell me you hate my guts and I will try not to believe you. I will be stuck to you like glue every step of the way so that you know I am always watching and that I always love you.
That seems like some stuff I could do.
Admittedly, some of the stories and traditional myths were really interesting. But for the most part, I was reminded that I a) don't have THAT much time on my hands and b) Owen is in deep trouble. Most of my promises to him are to not let him sit in a dirty diaper for longer then I can stand the smell, to ensure that most sharp objects are out of both of our reach and that I won't forget to pick him up from day care (mostly because I am sure I will get a reminder call if I do). But I thought maybe just maybe I could come up with a few on my own.
I managed six:
1) I promise to introduce you to people who will be able to teach you to skate, can help with math homework and conjugate French verbs. I have a few lined up so far, but the French verb one may take a while. So no matter my (or your father's) shortcomings, I promise to try and make up for them.
2) I promise to pick out only a modestly huge home in California when you go to play for the Raiders, or become a famous doctor or become a major lawyer. This also means I promise not to live with you again. But you have to pay for the house. Consider it pay back for the 50 cent weekly allowance.
3) I promise not to let you watch really scary movies that will scar you for life like "Return of the living dead", "Friday the 13th" and the complete Michael Jackson "Thriller" video. Trust me, you will thank me later. I still can't dance naked in a cemetery when it rains. (If you haven't seen "Return of the Living Dead", this comment is beyond you and you should probably ignore it.)
4) I promise to let you fall down, bump your head, make mistakes and pull headsets down on your head. I will try not to always catch you, or hold your hand or have all the answers. But I will always be behind you with hands out just in case. And I will keep bandaids in my back pocket with the hugs.
5) I promise to capture every bad hairstyle, outfit or girlfriend on film. We will make sure we video all awful band concerts, school dances and school plays. And then promptly bring the evidence out in front of all your cool friends.
6) I promise to smooth out any stray hairs with my spit, to buy you pants that are too short, force you to go to drugstores while I buy feminine products (or even worse condoms), I will wave at you as you step up to bat and scream your name and blow kisses and make comments about making "goals" so you can roll your eyes, I will make you wear a sweater your grandmother made with puffy sleeves and reindeer on it. I will take you to your first day of school- every single one, even university, and sob in front of your friends. I know you will tell me you hate my guts and I will try not to believe you. I will be stuck to you like glue every step of the way so that you know I am always watching and that I always love you.
That seems like some stuff I could do.
If only I could dial...
So we just got back from a week in TO again. Cris' brother was getting married and we went down to help. Not sure we really were a help but... they got married and no one got hurt. Almost.
It seems every trip to Toronto, Owen becomes a walking plague, infected with some disease. This time he had a majorly stuffed up nose. And he shared it with me. Nice. So we spent a lot of nights waking up every 2-4 hours. He even stayed up crying till 12 a.m. one night. He didn't even do that when he was a newborn!!! So lots of fun.
But leave it to me to provide the piece de resistance for my baby. Again, many parenting points were deducted.
We were over at my aunt and uncle's house, where they were nice enough to put up with us for a few nights. I was making dinner with my uncle while my aunt was helping her son with his homework. Being the excellent parent that I am, Owen was strapped into his chair and left to stare at the ceiling. Being the innovator that he is, Owen started to play with the telephone cord against the wall. What fun. Then the headset fell on his head. Oh what fun.
I say kids are like new cars. Eventually they are going to get scratched, dinged and bumped. So like our Santa fe, Owen got a ding. A nice cut on his forehead. Of course I was crying long after he got over it. A nice big dose of guilt. Thankfully I didn't know where the closest Toys R' us was or an ice cream palour or I would have sucked up to that kid. So my baby's beautiful face now has a nick out of it.
Clearly he was calling CAS.
It seems every trip to Toronto, Owen becomes a walking plague, infected with some disease. This time he had a majorly stuffed up nose. And he shared it with me. Nice. So we spent a lot of nights waking up every 2-4 hours. He even stayed up crying till 12 a.m. one night. He didn't even do that when he was a newborn!!! So lots of fun.
But leave it to me to provide the piece de resistance for my baby. Again, many parenting points were deducted.
We were over at my aunt and uncle's house, where they were nice enough to put up with us for a few nights. I was making dinner with my uncle while my aunt was helping her son with his homework. Being the excellent parent that I am, Owen was strapped into his chair and left to stare at the ceiling. Being the innovator that he is, Owen started to play with the telephone cord against the wall. What fun. Then the headset fell on his head. Oh what fun.
I say kids are like new cars. Eventually they are going to get scratched, dinged and bumped. So like our Santa fe, Owen got a ding. A nice cut on his forehead. Of course I was crying long after he got over it. A nice big dose of guilt. Thankfully I didn't know where the closest Toys R' us was or an ice cream palour or I would have sucked up to that kid. So my baby's beautiful face now has a nick out of it.
Clearly he was calling CAS.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Not baby related
So we finally finished the bathroom reno. It's all those annoying little tasks that are so easy to put off. But Cris was really good and finally finished everything over the long weekend. So I had to put up before and after shots. Such a difference, even I forgot how bad it was!!!
BEFORE
AFTER
So we tiled the floor, had the bathtub painted white, painted the walls and installed a new countertop. Yes that is the same vanity- we just painted it a nice colour. I think this is a huge improvement and was worth the one month wait!!!
BEFORE
AFTER
So we tiled the floor, had the bathtub painted white, painted the walls and installed a new countertop. Yes that is the same vanity- we just painted it a nice colour. I think this is a huge improvement and was worth the one month wait!!!
Chinese water torture
In the past few weeks it seems everyone has asked me about going back to work. It's like people have conspired together to constantly remind me of my impending doom. And they all ask "Soooooo...are you excited about coming back to work?" Are you nuts?
Granted, there are a few moms in the "Baby and me" group we occasionally go to who are dying to go back to work. And I honestly thought I would be one of those people.
In the beginning, when Owen was really small, all I wanted was to go back to work. I needed that structure. The sense of accomplishment. But now 8 months later, I dread the thought of going back. Not that I don't love my job or the people I work with. But it dawned on me that I will most likely only see Owen 4 hours a day. For a few days, I actually felt like I was losing Owen. That I had him for a year and that now he was being taken away from me. That is the emotional weight I have placed on all this. I think soon I will love those night feedings. It will add a whole 10 minutes to my time with Owen.
When owen was about a month old, a girlfriend told me about a woman she worked with. It was this woman's first day back from mat. leave. She proclaimed it was the longest she had ever spent apart from her child. I must confess, my girlfriend and I laughed and thought that was ridiculous. And now here I am and a day at work will be my longest away from Owen too. A whole 8 hours. It seems like torture. So I apologize to that unknown woman that I mocked. I hear you sister!
But everyone tells me, women all over the country do it and survive and so will I. Clearly these people haven't seen the pictures on the blog.
Granted, there are a few moms in the "Baby and me" group we occasionally go to who are dying to go back to work. And I honestly thought I would be one of those people.
In the beginning, when Owen was really small, all I wanted was to go back to work. I needed that structure. The sense of accomplishment. But now 8 months later, I dread the thought of going back. Not that I don't love my job or the people I work with. But it dawned on me that I will most likely only see Owen 4 hours a day. For a few days, I actually felt like I was losing Owen. That I had him for a year and that now he was being taken away from me. That is the emotional weight I have placed on all this. I think soon I will love those night feedings. It will add a whole 10 minutes to my time with Owen.
When owen was about a month old, a girlfriend told me about a woman she worked with. It was this woman's first day back from mat. leave. She proclaimed it was the longest she had ever spent apart from her child. I must confess, my girlfriend and I laughed and thought that was ridiculous. And now here I am and a day at work will be my longest away from Owen too. A whole 8 hours. It seems like torture. So I apologize to that unknown woman that I mocked. I hear you sister!
But everyone tells me, women all over the country do it and survive and so will I. Clearly these people haven't seen the pictures on the blog.
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