Can you smell that? it's fear...

Once again, I am appalled by the school system. I wonder if my parents ever had this much trouble with my school.  sheeesh...

So yesterday My eldest brings home a note from the principals, stating that the school had practised a 'General Lockdown". Here. I'm going to type it verbatim, because I feel it's necessary, so the message can be heard.

" On Wednesday, November 03, 2010, Bappity-bap School practiced a "General Lockdown" of the school.
A general lockdown means all students remain in their classroom with the door locked and the lights turned out. Students move out of sight of windows and doors. 
The general lockdown was practiced so that staff and students are prepared in the event we have to institute a lockdown procedure. The City Police were involved in this practice and gave students and staff meaningful advice on to how to conduct ourselves and make our practices better. 
We are very proud of our students who listened closely to our directions. 
If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to call.
Sincerely,
New principal (who's about to get ousted by PTA.)"


Soooo........

This is terrifying. Sad. There is a whole schwack of emotions still roiling down right now. I'm not sure when our school system decided that instilling fear in elementary students was the best plan for safety, and right now in my head is a picture of kindergarten students playing hide-n-go-seek, because that was the only way the teacher could get everyone's attention.  I especially like the part where they DON'T TELL US WHY THEY'RE DOING IT!!!! No reason whatsoever. What event would constitute a lockdown procedure? what? WHAT DO YOU KNOW TEACHERS????? fuck me. I don't ever remember having to do shit like this. ever.

This whole 'exercise' reminds me of the bomb raids of old , where they taught school children, not to mention everyone else, to hide under their desks with their hands over their ears. You know, I used to volunteer at an elderly home, and there was one gent there that couldn't even have an alarm clock within 3 rooms of his, the p.a. system had to be unhooked in his room, you couldn't even blow a whistle. Perpetually afraid of the Bomb sirens. He probably died afraid.

My point being is how dare they instill fear in my child in a place of learning? In one of the only places he's excited to go to right now, that he feels most trusting in?  And shouldn't it be my child's choice on whether or not to be afraid? the letter cleverly masks what he should be afraid of.  Shouldn't it have been a choice as to whether or not he even participated? And why were the parents informed only after the fact? This wasn't even mentioned in the School Newsletter.

We're not backward rednecks here, and this is not an issue of Conspiracy Theory. This is  Canada, and we should not be afraid. Just let's look at it. Would anyone want to see their child doing this?

So yeah. You can bet I'm going to be asking a LOT of questions to this new Principal, and I'll go as high as I need to get answers.
Fuck.
Unacceptable.

The Date

@6:30 am: I woke up with the baby, very excited because you were coming home today and we were going to go out for a date, by ourselves, for the first time since baby was born.

@7:30 am: I made a pot of coffee, but I limited myself to two cups so I wouldn't be all gassy tonight. Nothing says 'I love you' like getting all your gas out beforehand.

@9:30 am: I had a shower because baby was asleep so I'd be able to use a leave-in treatment on my hair, and also shave my legs thoroughly in the tub, not hurriedly in the sink.

@11:00 am: I painted my toes all pretty for you, even though I knew you probably wouldn't notice, but they were bugging me pretty bad.

@2:30 pm: The babysitter called and said that she couldn't watch the kids tonight because she had spent the last two hours hugging the porcelain princess, and she didn't want to risk any mishaps.

@ 2:50 pm: I had exhausted the babysitting options, which are admittedly quite limited right now, as there are only a few people who I trust with our three month old, and none were available.

@3:10 pm: I vowed to myself that we could still have a nice evening in together, so I took off the Parental Controls on the T.V. so we could rent a Movie-On-Demand, and I started to prepare a meatloaf with homemade mashed potatoes and corn-off-the-cob, because I knew you would appreciate a home cooked meal.

@4:30 pm: You called and told me you would be running late, and wouldn't be able to leave for home for another hour or so, and since the drive was 21/2 hours from there to here, maybe we should do the date another time. And I said that was okay because the babysitter was busy puking anyway, but that I had homemade meatloaf on the make, and I'd make sure to keep it warm in the oven for you. And you said that would be Fantastic since you've eaten nothing but fast food for the last week anyways, and would love a home cooked meal.

@5:00 pm: I put the meatloaf in the oven, which takes one hour to cook, and I put on my shirt that has the hint of cleavage but slims the tummy, and I put on some mascara and blush because the top made me feel a little sexy, and I wanted to surprise you since all you've seen of me in the last 5 months has been pj pants, messy hair, and shirts stained with spit up.

@5:45 pm: The baby spit up all over my sexy shirt, and I realized that since I hadn't put on mascara in 5 months, that my mascara had expired and turned all flaky, and I looked like that guy from Clockwork Orange, but without the bowler hat, and half the bat-shit Crazy.

@ 5:50 pm: I had on a less sexy shirt, and decided to take the makeup off, because all of my stuff had expired, and I didn't want to run the risk of having an adverse reaction and end up looking like a muppet. or something.

@6:30 pm: I pulled out a  very crisp meatloaf, and realized that the corn is turning green and fuzzy. the older son get Kraft Dinner for supper. I get a glass of wine.

@7:45 pm: Baby has had an explosive poo all over the only pair of pants I fit into that aren't made of flannel. I return to the pj pants.

@8:30 pm: I put older son to bed because he has school in the morning, and i go lay down on the couch with baby. Then I remember that tomorrow's a holiday and there's no school but i leave him in bed anyways because i need a minute to myself. The baby spits up on me again. i wipe it off, but don't bother to change the shirt.

@9:48 pm: I wake up on the couch when you get in the door. I offer you some Kd, but you ate something on the way home.

@9:53 we both get into bed, too tired to do much else but sleep. And as you're drifting off, you let rip a big loud Welcome Home! fart.

And then I got high.... or did I?

Okay, so I don't do drugs myself, I'll admit I've tried some in the past (who hasn't?), and I know people who still do. And by drugs I mean Pot. Marijuana.
None of that commercially made I-died-in-a-bathtub-fire-trying-to-make-this-chemical-cocktail-for-you, no. The homegrown stuff. Stuff that should be legal so the Govt can tax the shit out of it. This is Canada People! Do you know how many people actually smoke or eat this stuff? You'd be surprised at the real numbers. Do you realize how fucking beautiful our Country could look and do you know how easily our economy could bounce back? All because the Govt decided to legalize and sin-tax Pot.
But enough about me and lobbying to legalize things, I just got this video today, and it made me so glad I live in Canada, yet really sad about the world I'm putting my children in. Hopefully when they're older the people who put this Zero-Tolerance policy into place will be gone and the next generation can put a more personal policy in place.  When did simply talking to a kid to see what's going on in their lives crap out against finger-pointing and accusations?





Again, I say wow.  I really have nothing to say.

Extra curricular sports, and how I don't want to be like my mother

My son started Flag football this past weekend. What fun. The best part is that My hubby put his name down for volunteering at the Community association, and since he was the only one to actually volunteer, he's now the coach for my son's team. 

But- He thinks since I only put down my e-mail address on the form, that I want to take part in the coaching experience, so I have been enlisted as the informal secretary and resident e-mailer, since I signed up only my e-mail address.... yay! well, whatever, gives me something else to do besides clean my already despicable immaculate house... 

They play on Saturdays and Mondays. This past Saturday's game went extremely well, each team had two touchdowns, and lots of fun. This Monday, however, was a different story.

Firstly, hubby was sick. And he never gets sick, so you can imagine how big a baby he is when he does get sick. He comes home around 1pm, and lets me know that I need to find a coach for tonight, cuz when he goes outside into the cold-ish air, he 'feels like he's going to throw up and pass out' *insert big whiny baby voice here*. That's my big strong man.....

So I e-mail around, and wouldn't you know, every dad wants to coach, or at least their wives' think they do. So I header down to the playing field, which this time is ALL THE WAY ACROSS TOWN, which in a city of 300,000, isn't really that far, it only takes 20 minutes to get anywhere, but looking for a specific field in a specific park in a new area of town is still confusing no matter where you are. I did find the park after a bit though,(yay for me and my mad directional skills!) so I lug all the equipment, my junior Peyton Manning, and myself down to what I assume is the right pitch. Luckily, all the parents found the same field that I did, so big plus points for me~! However, somehow our rival team failed to produce themselves, and judging by the area and field, that's not really surprising, but it still gave me a little glow of pride to know that even though our team is a bunch of spoiled little east-siders, they still showed up for the game, and then, stayed for the inevitable practice that ensued, since the replacement coaches and I decided that they should do something so as not to feel that they wasted their time. (and the spoiled little east-siders I'm talking about are the parents, as the kids aren't yet aware that they are over-privileged.)

Best line of the day from the parents: 'You would NOT BELIEVE how hard I had to search to find a decent coffee place over here! Do they even know what a Starbucks is?'

Best line of the day from the pseudo coaches: 'Ummm... so how do you play this? my wife made me come...'

Best line of the day from the kids: 'Aww, where's real Coach? I want to show him my snot-swing-back-play' ( proceeds to drool a loogie to the ground, then as it touches icky-grass and mud, suck it back up in a swinging fashion as he throws the ball right into one of the pseudo coaches nards. I'm not even shitting you! It was uber gross Fantastic a horrible indecency to the coach who totally did the classic America's Funniest Home Videos' thing, grabbing himself, falling over, and wheezing 'ohh my balls'!  which apparently is still only funny to me...)

All in all, not a bad way to spend an evening, and my sad litte sicko at home got a smile out of how, even though they've only had one game, he still made a lasting impression on the kids, and a good one, which is rare. (hubby has a way of sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he decides to open it)

Now if you'll excuse me, my littlest just managed to spew INSIDE my shirt, and it is currently trickling into my armpit...

And then I showed my boob...

I had a picture up on Facebook that got deleted because it showed I was breastfeeding my little one. My husband took it because he wanted to show me the weird face I got when I read grocery flyers. Apparently I do.

So I put up another picture on Facebook, that also got deleted because it mimicked the action of breastfeeding.

Facebook sucks.


by the way, I have waayyyyyy more offensive pictures on facebook, and they haven't been touched. example, you say? well:

For starters. And then they get worse. So, really, Facebook, I think if you're going to be offended, do it on all sides.

Seriously? Seriously. Serious...

My eldest likes to play board games and make-believe with his baby brother, which he can't do in actuality since littlest is like 2 months old, so he just pretends that baby brother is playing and does his turn for him. It's part of his baby brother time, when he gets to be the big brother and 'look after him all by himself ' by playing tickle games or giving him the occasional bottle -or pretend the baby is playing a board game with him(I'm usually in the kitchen making lunch, or on here) which is kinda cute and usually mostly quiet, so i say whatever. They're spending  time together and not fighting or breaking shit, and how long am I gonna get that for, right?

Anyways, today was Scrabble day, apparently. So kiddo brought out his kid's version Scrabble game to the living room,  and set it up next to littlest's baby recliner so that they could 'play together'. Some time passes, and then kiddo comes up to me, a little mischief in his eye and a fake pout on his lips.
"Mom, I don't think baby should play the game anymore, because he's not taking it seriously."

Seriously? Seriously....

My son chooses to kick his little brother out of the game because he spelled 'cornpoop'.
So I tell my son that technically that's not a word, so he can't kick his little brother out of the game, and he says,' is too a word, it what happens after you eat a corn on the cob and then you have to poop and you can see the corn. cuz it can't turn into poop. cornpoop.'

Klassy.

Oooookkaaaaaaaayy...........

(by the way, I showed husband these pictures and he said none of the words on there were actual words you could use in scrabble, palm tree being two separate words, and doc being an abbreviation, which isn't allowed. Leave it to my hubby to take cornpoop seriously. shit.)

I have one of those pretty water features everyone raves about. Apparently.

My child's been singing 'I've got a moldy basement", to the tune of I've Got a Golden Ticket from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Which is funny cuz he's never seen the original movie with Gene Hackman, and he's only heard the South park and Family Guy Versions of the song.
And yes, our basement is moldy, we've had so much rain here that our ground is fully saturated and it just kinda pours through. We had a plumbing guy who came in when we first moved into the place, and he replaced the taps in our tub and tightened up the connection to the tap in the backyard because that's what the landlord said needed fixing. (I found a lot more stuff over the year, btw) So this spring, when the snow had thawed and the grass was green again, my son found the irresistible urge to play with his water guns, and tried to fill them with the tap in the backyard. (the first time we've used that tap since the guy came and "fixed" them) So he comes in the house, all happy and smiley and said,' hey mom, when you turn on the water in the backyard, it makes a waterfall!'
and I was all, whaaat?.....
So I go check, and sure enough, when the tap is turned on, the water drips down under the siding from one edge of our wall to the other, giving it a waterfall effect. And where does this water go? The Basement.  So the tap is not allowed to be used right now until the landlord gets it fixed properly.
And from the two of these things combined have left my basement wet and musty smelling, little white moldy patches sprouting up from cracks in the cement (at least the basement was mostly unfinished, if that'd been carpet, it would have really sucked) and The only three cardboard boxes in our plastic mounds of  storage, just happen to contain all the baby books and pictures. Which are now all grey and bubbly and before the time of digital so there's no backup shots and we just have to salvage what we can.
And since no one goes to that side of the basement, no one realized what had happened until a couple of weeks ago. so that sucks.

ps. oh and the bathroom taps gave on us a couple weeks ago, so until the plumber came last week to fix (different plumber this time, really yummy to look at too, you could tell he was fresh out of an apprenticeship and still full of hopes and dreams, not like those old experienced plumbers who are now wishing they'd chosen a different vocation, because at some point digging around in other people's Shit just isn't fun anymore) So for a coupla weeks we had to use a pair of pipe wrenches to turn the tiny little knob that's hidden inside the tap just so we could have a shower.


pps. what my son neglected to tell me until after I found the sopping mess that was my memories for when I get Alzheimer's, was the amount of time the water was on in the backyard that day. thinking a couple of minutes? try almost two hours, because my son thought it was pretty and didn't want to turn it off. heh heh...

Starbucks should totally make this a flavour

I went to make a pot of coffee this morning, but I didn't realize that there weren't enough coffee grounds to do a full pot, and I had already poured a full pot of water into the coffee maker. well shit. So then I asked myself what the most effective tool in my kitchen for removing a quarter of the water from my coffee maker would be.......and Ta-da!!!
A Turkey baster will do the trick in a jiff.
Only now my coffee has a slightly meaty taste to it. oh well. Caffeine is Caffeine.