tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124566702008-06-25T14:46:47.770-06:00The 3 Faces of EveEvehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comBlogger307125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-85732325977679202142008-04-23T23:42:00.005-06:002008-04-24T00:11:03.885-06:00I can hear their heartbeats for a thousand milesTwo years ago today, I was feeling very uncomfortable, so I went to the hospital. After a thorough examination, lo and behold, the doctor found these in my uterus, which explained a lot. So I took them home and dressed them in coordinating outfits. What would you do?<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/SBAe29GUlPI/AAAAAAAAAPI/vrvKXYK0qF0/s1600-h/DSC05427.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/SBAe29GUlPI/AAAAAAAAAPI/vrvKXYK0qF0/s400/DSC05427.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192684299821028594" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/SBAhT9GUlSI/AAAAAAAAAPg/gEzfrVUQkSU/s1600-h/DSC05350.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/SBAhT9GUlSI/AAAAAAAAAPg/gEzfrVUQkSU/s400/DSC05350.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192686997060490530" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/SBAe39GUlRI/AAAAAAAAAPY/EX4xoCTw69Y/s1600-h/DSC05470.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/SBAe39GUlRI/AAAAAAAAAPY/EX4xoCTw69Y/s400/DSC05470.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192684317000897810" /></a><br /><br /><br />Happy 2nd Birthday Ruby and Lily.<br />My heart is so full today. Thank you, lucky stars.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-45796658378381966602008-03-11T13:56:00.006-06:002008-03-11T14:41:51.198-06:00PippaMy first baby, Piper, turned 4 this week. FOUR. And for all of you parents out there struggling through two and three, I have to tell you that four is a tropical vacation. It's a homemade cheesecake martini. It's a hot stone massage that you are paid to receive. Seriously, somewhere between three and four, someone flipped the switch from feral to delightful, and a whole new realm of fun was opened up. That's my experience anyway. Go four! Gimme an F! O! U! R! <br />ONE TWO THREE FOUR! YOU DON'T PEE THE BED NO MORE! YaaaaaaAAAAAYYY FOUR! <br /><br />Also, I'm going to try a little something. We are going to recreate a scene from a movie, and you have to guess what it is.<br />I haven't determined prizes yet.<br /><br />Go.<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1XN87ZnrSqo"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1XN87ZnrSqo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-70601849447707171382008-02-20T15:16:00.001-07:002008-02-20T15:28:29.594-07:00Happy Birthday Robb!Piper, Ruby and I want to wish you a very happy birthday today. Lily is very busy, but she'll get back to you later.<br />We love you! xoxoxo<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nEBVwqT6uas"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nEBVwqT6uas" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nEBVwqT6uasEvehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-49668478270640644852008-02-17T11:01:00.005-07:002008-02-18T09:25:22.568-07:00Baby Mannas!Here are Piper, Ruby and Lily in a few of those precious, calm moments that give me bellowing tantrum amnesia, and make me wish that I had ten babies. <br /><br />This week has been full of sweet moments, like when we returned home from a wedding last night, and were told by our new babysitter that our girls were the best behaved babies she had ever cared for, and when I was rocking Ruby to sleep just now, and she looked up at me, put her chubby hand on my face, and said softly, "No sing."<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vIb2LOtGY8U"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vIb2LOtGY8U" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nMyUL11dE1s"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nMyUL11dE1s" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br />( I know a few of you can't access YouTube videos from here, so here are the links too.)<br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIb2LOtGY8U<br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMyUL11dE1sEvehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-37594497099793999502008-02-12T15:56:00.007-07:002008-02-13T12:56:29.092-07:0022 months down, 94 months to goI have been totally preoccupied with the goings on inside my house, and am so sorry for dropping off the face of the Internet for so long. But if any of you have ever parented a 22 month old, you can probably understand what I mean when I say, "I HAVE TWO OF THEM! IN MY HOUSE! AT THE SAME TIME! AND THEY INSIST ON WRAPPING THEMSELVES AROUND MY NECK LIKE A 55 POUND SCARF FOR 23 HOURS A DAY WHILE SHRIEKING SO LOUDLY THAT ALL OF THE DOGS IN OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD CURL UP INTO THE FETAL POSITION AND WEEP! (Exhale.) 22 month olds know what they want, by God, and they usually want eight different things that cannot possibly coexist. Like, MORE! and NO! and PICK ME UP! and DOWN! and CANDY! and EEEHHHH! and WHATEVER SOMEONE ELSE HAS! and SHOES ON OFF! and GOFFT! (whatever the hell that is.) And somehow, I have been appointed the honourable and uncoveted position of Woman Who Must Fetch Stuff and Read Minds of Many Children and Prepare Meals Made only of Cartoons and Marshmallows. I don't remember running for the position of WWMFSRMMCPMMCM, but somehow I won! And it's a minimum 18 year term! WHEEEEE!!! VICTORY IS MINE!<br /><br />Oh, gross. Ruby just came around the corner wearing the towel I used to wipe pee off the floor this morning as a hat. And that perfectly illustrates why I don't spend a lot of time online these days. <br /><br /> Also, we've had colds, the flu, teething, potty training, locusts, third degree winter induced cabin fever, and sleeping challenges to deal with, as well as a sugarpie of an almost 4 year old daughter to care for as well, so it's just been a long, hard 2 months or so. I know this is pretty normal for this age, so I'm just trying to hold on to my sanity for now, while reminding myself that this age doesn't last forever. Then I'm also weepy, because this age doesn't last forever. As the universe always has to balance, 22 month olds are also kick-you-in-the-head CUTE, and SWEET, and CUDDLY, with the most heart gripping baby talk and giggles and hilarity. So, I remain on the rollercoaster, seatbelt fastened, trying not to barf.<br /><br />And, although 22 months x2+4 = incomparably demanding, I wouldn't wish it away for anything.<br /><br /><br />"Here Mama, look at this picture I made, and not at the one I drew on the wall."<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrRV6c_KI/AAAAAAAAAOI/eD_f-hRdOLY/s1600-h/Ruby.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrRV6c_KI/AAAAAAAAAOI/eD_f-hRdOLY/s400/Ruby.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166520774464175266" /></a><br /><br /><br />"As God is my witness, this naked doll will pee on the potty before I do."<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrR16c_LI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/RR5PGMlxsys/s1600-h/Lily.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrR16c_LI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/RR5PGMlxsys/s400/Lily.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166520783054109874" /></a><br /><br /><br />"Just.... one....more..... spreadsheet.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.."<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrSV6c_MI/AAAAAAAAAOY/bURnTODF3to/s1600-h/sleepyP.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrSV6c_MI/AAAAAAAAAOY/bURnTODF3to/s400/sleepyP.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166520791644044482" /></a><br /><br /><br />Bedbugs<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrTl6c_NI/AAAAAAAAAOg/WMcgJcUhfVs/s1600-h/bedbugs.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R7MrTl6c_NI/AAAAAAAAAOg/WMcgJcUhfVs/s400/bedbugs.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166520813118880978" /></a>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-69171234926523008482007-12-27T16:55:00.001-07:002008-01-14T13:38:18.124-07:00Inside JokeChristmas was a lot of fun this year. The presents were a hit, but we had the most fun skating, hanging out with our gigantic, toddler laden extended family, and giggling at sippycups.<br /><br />Have a wonderful, healthy, giggly new year!<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bdkrgr8dGTw&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bdkrgr8dGTw&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-21887295526465858502007-12-15T23:23:00.000-07:002007-12-17T12:38:52.175-07:00I film, therefore I amI'm FINALLY being forced to learn how to use the iMovie program on my Mac, as I'm editing together a wedding video for some friends of ours. So, in three weeks, I will either be an expert on this program, or I will be crying about ruining my friends' reception, while hyperventilating on my dining room floor, next to my smashed monitor. <br /><br />The exciting part about this is that, if I don't end up on the dining room floor, I will be able to put together some hella adorable home videos! With music! And titles! Glory be! <br /><br />But until then- here are a few unedited clips from the past few weeks:<br /><br /><br />This is Piper at ballet class. She's in purple, on the teacher's right. Her ballet teacher's name is Miss Carly, and her preschool teacher's name is Miss Darlene, so for the first week of classes, she called them both Miss Carlene. Miss Carlene would have been an excellent character on Designing Women. Her hair would have been gloriously large, and she would have been the sweetest honey darlin' of all the Sugarbakers. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EJWrzOrnG_o&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EJWrzOrnG_o&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />These are my little computer addicts, Ruby & Lily. They say "mouse" loudly and clearly, and have already mastered the video game trance, watching Piper play. We've already had to limit computer time in our home, for all 3 girls. I should have them show me how to use iMovie, though.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AIRMkc6Bolo&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AIRMkc6Bolo&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-67649220375291843052007-11-24T20:48:00.000-07:002007-11-26T00:43:42.513-07:00Sugar & Spice, and please, God, no lice...I may not be an expert on little girls, but I think that birthing, feeding, and entertaining my 3 daughters for the past three and three quarter years entitles me to occasionally stand on a small, remotely located soapbox.<br /><br />I have a few friends right now who are pregnant with boys, but this post is aimed more at my friends who are pregnant with, or have just had baby girls. First of all- Congratulations! And secondly, there are a few things that you should know...<br /><br />1. I've seen your future, and it is pink. You may have strong feelings against this ubergirlie colour, and think that you will not, under any circumstances, dress your beloved child like a bottle of pepto bismol. I can see your point- I've BEEN there, sister. It's cliche, it's boring, and so very predictable. But I don't think that you've thoroughly researched the baby girl clothing market. Believe me when I tell you that the new pink is STILL PINK. Go to Baby Gap, then go to Old Navy, then Zara, Gymboree, and if you can carry your overflowing pink bags any further, drop by H&M. The baby girl clothes, the glorious delicious, irrisistibly tiny garments, they are great with pink, and they will follow you home. Don't feel ashamed, it's not your fault. I blame hormones. (For everything, really.) Also, by the age of three, your daughter will have VERY STRONG opinions on what she wants to wear, and you will consider yourself victorious if she doesn't leave the house wearing only legwarmers and a tiara.<br /><br />2. You will play princess and pony games. Yes, hahahahahahaaha. Ha. Go ahead and laugh. I'm being ridiculous, right? You have no interest in ponies OR princesses, especially not flying glittery fairy princess ponies and all of their stupid, shiny accessories. Well, enjoy your poniless days while you can, my friend, because they are numbered. Did you know that ponies wear crowns, capes, shoes and necklaces, and need their long hair brushed hourly with their monogrammed, jewel encrusted brushes? WELL THEY DO GODDAMMIT, so get used to it. But what? You would never lower yourself to buy these horrid little plastic creatures, and subject your daughters to such gender stereotypical crap? Oh NO- your daughter will only play sports and puzzles, and IQ raising, interesting games! Shhhhhhhhh.... I know... I know..<br />I myself have never actually bought a pony or a princess, and yet, my house is completely infested with them. You can't swing a dead pony around here without hitting a princess crown, pony skirt, or a fairy flower ballerina sparkle extravaganza magic wand. You don't even have to go to Toys R Us, I'm TELLING you, if you have little girls living under your roof, the fairy princess ponies will come to you. I don't know exactly how, but I've noticed that the little bastards DO have wings, most of the time. We are getting dangerously close to needing a pony princess exorcism.<br /><br />3. Your good intention of raising your precious child without letting her eat at McDonald's will probably meet it's demise somewhere between years 3 and 5. Even if you are tenacious and steadfast, so are toddlers after watching 13,000 Happy Meal commercials. And that advertising is so powerful, that even you will inexplicably covet those cheap collectible toys, from the bottom of your subliminally gullible heart, at least once a year. On a related note, you will also feed your child Kraft Dinner a lot more than you ever thought you would. I remember back when I was pregnant for the first time, thinking that I would make all my own babyfood from scratch. "Only the best for my baby!", I thought. I wish I could go back in time and give my old self an atomic wedgie. I'm not saying that you CAN'T raise your children without KD or McD, I'm just saying that you probably WON'T. <br /><br />4. Little girls will light up your life more than the sun. And from what I've seen and heard, so will little boys. Basically, if you've got a tiny human living in your house, you are already a winner. You may not ever be well rested again, but you're in for a whole lotta joy.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBcmNitAI/AAAAAAAAANo/rD3xhD8Cf4s/s1600-h/Piper.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBcmNitAI/AAAAAAAAANo/rD3xhD8Cf4s/s400/Piper.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136638440798073858" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBdWNitBI/AAAAAAAAANw/LvHBEF62qYg/s1600-h/Ruby.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBdWNitBI/AAAAAAAAANw/LvHBEF62qYg/s400/Ruby.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136638453682975762" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBeGNitCI/AAAAAAAAAN4/iyKC0p-zmm8/s1600-h/Lily.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBeGNitCI/AAAAAAAAAN4/iyKC0p-zmm8/s400/Lily.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136638466567877666" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBemNitDI/AAAAAAAAAOA/qXX3LLQH60U/s1600-h/couch.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/R0kBemNitDI/AAAAAAAAAOA/qXX3LLQH60U/s400/couch.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136638475157812274" /></a><br /><br /><br />(*DISCLAIMER* The aforementioned opinions are to be taken with a grain of salt. Eve is not a Doctor, or a Psychologist, or a Psychic, or even particularly well read. In fact, she is talking out of her ass a great deal of the time.)Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-89685846745282116472007-11-11T13:22:00.000-07:002007-11-11T13:50:39.552-07:00NovemberI know. I KNOW. I haven't felt like writing lately. <br /><br />But for all of our relatives out there itching for some kiddy updates, and for the 3 nonrelated loyal readers who have so patiently kept checking in here- here are some pics and videos from the past 2 months:<br /><br /><br />Piper gets an exclusive interview with Daddy<br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WVOQX0wxETc"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WVOQX0wxETc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br />A fall day at Grammy & Poppa's farm, in the style of The Blair Witch Project <br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3FtI2pG64M0"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3FtI2pG64M0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br />Me with Stinker Ruby and OctoLily<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rzdp_KE_H4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/WNGxX9hHzqE/s1600-h/DSC04841.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rzdp_KE_H4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/WNGxX9hHzqE/s400/DSC04841.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131686834169913218" /></a><br /><br /><br />Daddy with the 3 candy beggars<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rzdp_6E_H5I/AAAAAAAAANY/xKahS7X15Fo/s1600-h/DSC04855.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rzdp_6E_H5I/AAAAAAAAANY/xKahS7X15Fo/s400/DSC04855.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131686847054815122" /></a><br /><br /><br />Piper getting ready to pig out on treats<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RzdqAKE_H6I/AAAAAAAAANg/sNd9HUx7WFk/s1600-h/DSC04872.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RzdqAKE_H6I/AAAAAAAAANg/sNd9HUx7WFk/s400/DSC04872.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131686851349782434" /></a><br /><br />xoxoEvehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-39128793665979876682007-09-28T21:48:00.000-06:002007-09-28T22:31:17.466-06:00If Fredericks of Hollywood had a children's shoe division...My mom bought Piper some "princess shoes", which she loves, and Ruby and Lily insanely ADORE. <br /><br />All anyone around here cares about anymore are those plastic pink heels, and the girls would gladly snap an ankle in order to wear them as much as possible. Often, they go "missing", but sometimes, I take them out, because it's so funny to see toddlers stagger around like Courtney Love. <br /><br />Like me, the girls love shoes, and, like me, they're about as graceful as a three legged elephant after knee surgery.<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4od1jTEjSig"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4od1jTEjSig" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zE3m_8vsAwo"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zE3m_8vsAwo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-10697719394588601572007-09-17T10:14:00.000-06:002007-09-17T10:56:33.184-06:00The Good Ole Hockey GameLast night, we took Piper to the BIG RINK, with POPCORN and HAMBURGERS, and LOUD MUSIC and FIREBALLS and SKATING and GO FLAMES GO and a TV IN THE POTTY and a BIG BRIDGE and KIDS and POP WITH A STRAW and BIG STAIRS and a GIANT FOAM FINGER!!! (Incidently, and unimportantly, there may have also been a hockey game going on....)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Ru6sFPDRfZI/AAAAAAAAANA/W_WcejRqWV8/s1600-h/Pipa-Flames.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Ru6sFPDRfZI/AAAAAAAAANA/W_WcejRqWV8/s400/Pipa-Flames.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111211833051676050" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Ru6sF_DRfaI/AAAAAAAAANI/yyoGhj44OLM/s1600-h/Pipa-Flames2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Ru6sF_DRfaI/AAAAAAAAANI/yyoGhj44OLM/s400/Pipa-Flames2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111211845936577954" /></a><br /><br />These blurry pictures were taken with the crappy camera in Robb's phone, because I like to always leave my camera in its case, at home in the dresser drawer, like ALL great photographers.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-48166851412127009122007-08-27T15:09:00.000-06:002007-08-27T17:06:23.760-06:00So We Thought We Could DanceOver the weekend, my inlaws hosted a giant Luau out at their ranch.<br /><br />About 120 people attended, to help celebrate our big family reunion, and my awesome father-in-law's belated 60th birthday. Being awesome obviously runs in his family, because they all travelled to Calgary from far and wide to help make the weekend extra special.<br /><br />We had a pig roast, and an amazing feast that pretty much made pigs out of us all, a giant fire pit area, band, tropical flowers and tiki torches all over the property, a huge bouncy house/games area for the little kids, and an even larger bar area for the big kids, and lots of entertainment. Even after it started pouring rain at about 10pm, most of us crammed our mai taied buns and becoconutted bras into the house and partied on.<br /><br />Here are a few snapshots from the evening: <br /><br /><br />Ashley, Aria, me, Chelsey & Lindsay, doing a hula dance in honour of my FIL. I think our poorly rehearsed dance angered the hawaiian gods, as it started pouring rain immediately after we finished.<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXLP3AGI/AAAAAAAAAMY/TmLcTz-Y7mw/s1600-h/hula+dance.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXLP3AGI/AAAAAAAAAMY/TmLcTz-Y7mw/s400/hula+dance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103499067199520866" /></a><br /><br /><br />Shakin' what our mammas gave us<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXLP3AHI/AAAAAAAAAMg/MZEs3WEkChc/s1600-h/hula+dance+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXLP3AHI/AAAAAAAAAMg/MZEs3WEkChc/s400/hula+dance+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103499067199520882" /></a><br /><br /><br />Our sweetie employee/friend/babysitter, Niki, and I. She has many leather bound books, and her apartment smells of rich mahogony.<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXbP3AII/AAAAAAAAAMo/_vFXYYx8nMM/s1600-h/Niki+%26+Eve.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXbP3AII/AAAAAAAAAMo/_vFXYYx8nMM/s400/Niki+%26+Eve.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103499071494488194" /></a><br /><br /><br />My cute husband drank about a thousand drinks, and then was busted smoking.<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXbP3AJI/AAAAAAAAAMw/_8SNle9vI4E/s1600-h/smokin+Robb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXbP3AJI/AAAAAAAAAMw/_8SNle9vI4E/s400/smokin+Robb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103499071494488210" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is Robb holding up one of our other employee/friend/babysitters, Amanda, who was, by far, the drunkest person at the luau. Come to think of it, many of our babysitters enjoy the sauce. Maybe our kids have driven them to it.<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXrP3AKI/AAAAAAAAAM4/9Y8o7_E7t9Q/s1600-h/Amanda+%26+Robb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RtNFXrP3AKI/AAAAAAAAAM4/9Y8o7_E7t9Q/s400/Amanda+%26+Robb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103499075789455522" /></a><br /><br /><br />I'd say the night was definitely a success.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-12181541324044513852007-08-23T14:11:00.000-06:002007-08-23T15:25:53.294-06:00Yeah, I've barely written all summer, I know..... oh hey, here are more movies!So, I know I haven't written much lately, I've mostly been caught up with playing outside, doing laundry, being emotional, drinking to excess, doing laundry, turning to mush from hearing "mamama" in triplicate, trying to keep three tasmanian devils from breaking any bones, and doing laundry. Seriously, I loathe all of this godforsaken laundry. It's a thankless, unsatisfying job that never ends. I think hell is probably some kind of large, cold, smelly laundromat. Not only have I been neglecting this site, but I have been working on the same book, (from lovely Sweetsalty Kate, thankyouverymuch,) for about 3 months now. At the rate I'm going, I should finish it about three lifetimes from now, when I am reincarnated as someone who knows how to manage her time.<br /><br />So for now, if anyone is still here, please enjoy these home movies:<br /><br />Life for Ruby & Lily at 15 months old revolves around high speed staggering, climbing anything that looks unstable, reading and throwing books, tandem cuddling, talking in sweet, creaky, angel baby voices, and squealing so loudly that people in Antigua are getting headaches. But, looky how cute and smooshy!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RrwG93ea6Q0"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RrwG93ea6Q0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br />For Piper, life at 3 and a half is all about Ballamina School, and all things associated with it in any way, which is pretty much everything. Tuna sandwich? Why YES, that would be a perfect lunch to bring to ballamina school. Hollowed out cow skull, you say? Halleluja- I've been looking for something to keep my ballamina dresses in! I enrolled her in a kiddie ballet class next month, and it is bigger than Christmas for her.<br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gF6GtF_8L4A"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gF6GtF_8L4A" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-66643210941521228582007-08-15T15:52:00.000-06:002007-08-15T16:06:58.734-06:00So THAT'S my natural hair colour...This is my 6th Grade class picture, from Nova Scotia. It's funny how clearly I can remember a lot of these kids. Can you find me? <br /><br />(Hint: my shirt could be seen from space.)<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RsN164LUNvI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/pXODpwApLJc/s1600-h/n642020419_302253_52.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RsN164LUNvI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/pXODpwApLJc/s400/n642020419_302253_52.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099048857486243570" /></a><br /><br />Also- the first boy I ever kissed is in this photo- He was a spin the bottle champion. Care to venture a guess?<br /><br />If you can also pick out my best friend, my 6th grade nemesis, and the class brain, I will send you a prize. A good one.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-17455701707994714002007-08-04T23:15:00.001-06:002007-08-05T15:39:19.371-06:00This week in good kids and bad photographyHer Majesty in Blue, Princess Piper Lola, and her BFF, Lady Zoe of Tiaraland<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeBoLUNqI/AAAAAAAAALo/SnThEtHn4gk/s1600-h/Princesses.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeBoLUNqI/AAAAAAAAALo/SnThEtHn4gk/s400/Princesses.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095081935497344674" /></a><br /><br />Ruby coming<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeCoLUNsI/AAAAAAAAAL4/IyX3qPFgWW8/s1600-h/Ruby+swing.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeCoLUNsI/AAAAAAAAAL4/IyX3qPFgWW8/s400/Ruby+swing.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095081952677213890" /></a><br /><br />Ruby going<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeCILUNrI/AAAAAAAAALw/AQ9A3YuJ0Fg/s1600-h/Ruby+bum.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeCILUNrI/AAAAAAAAALw/AQ9A3YuJ0Fg/s400/Ruby+bum.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095081944087279282" /></a><br /><br />The saddest ballerina in all the land<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeC4LUNtI/AAAAAAAAAMA/fOuRcZoaZ7k/s1600-h/sad+ballerina.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeC4LUNtI/AAAAAAAAAMA/fOuRcZoaZ7k/s400/sad+ballerina.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095081956972181202" /></a><br /><br />Tree monkeys in their natural habitat<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeDYLUNuI/AAAAAAAAAMI/-hcpqw2Zk28/s1600-h/tree+monkeys.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVeDYLUNuI/AAAAAAAAAMI/-hcpqw2Zk28/s400/tree+monkeys.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095081965562115810" /></a>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-57542700035154050412007-08-04T23:03:00.000-06:002007-08-05T00:26:31.728-06:00Park or Bust<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbYoLUNlI/AAAAAAAAALA/qI0tmTXpDy4/s1600-h/3+walkers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbYoLUNlI/AAAAAAAAALA/qI0tmTXpDy4/s400/3+walkers.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095079032099452498" /></a><br /><br />Elfin Lily<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbZILUNmI/AAAAAAAAALI/Pn-lveI2UZE/s1600-h/Lily+elf.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbZILUNmI/AAAAAAAAALI/Pn-lveI2UZE/s400/Lily+elf.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095079040689387106" /></a><br /><br />"... and that's what Dostoevsky was trying to convey in his Notes from Underground."<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbZYLUNnI/AAAAAAAAALQ/FMmyJVKrVE0/s1600-h/Piper+%26+Lily.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbZYLUNnI/AAAAAAAAALQ/FMmyJVKrVE0/s400/Piper+%26+Lily.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095079044984354418" /></a><br /><br />Peekaboo- stop taking my damn picture.<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbZ4LUNoI/AAAAAAAAALY/2A1qWr6fSRc/s1600-h/Piper+peekaboo.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbZ4LUNoI/AAAAAAAAALY/2A1qWr6fSRc/s400/Piper+peekaboo.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095079053574289026" /></a><br /><br />Summer grin<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbaILUNpI/AAAAAAAAALg/nPHQLPJj-oY/s1600-h/Piper+pool.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/RrVbaILUNpI/AAAAAAAAALg/nPHQLPJj-oY/s400/Piper+pool.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095079057869256338" /></a><br /><br /><br />p.s.- To "shaun" who commented last week, who also has twins named Ruby & Lily, almost the same age: If you have a blog- pretty PUHLEEEEEZE share it with me! I am dying to see and hear about your girls too!Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-55904362003998102602007-08-01T17:04:00.000-06:002007-08-01T17:27:13.545-06:00I can always lend myself a cup of sugarI met our new next door neighbours today. <br /><br />The husband came over to borrow a few things as they were moving in, and we started chatting. They are a young couple, like us, and it looked like they had at least one young child, judging by the carseat. The guy was very nice, and we were talking about our houses, as we have the exact same interior layouts, ( along with almost identical cars and appliances.) I gave him a tour, and we continued to chat. <br />He tells me that he and his wife have a three and a half year old daughter, just like us. "Hurrah, a friend for Piper!" I think. Then I tell him about Ruby & Lily, and he asks me how old the twins are, and I tell him 15 months old. HE ALSO HAS TWIN DAUGHTERS, who are also 15 months old. He continues to chat, telling me that they had planned the exact same basement development we have, and the whole time I was thinking, "WHO CARES, man. We have the EXACT SAME CHILDREN, living in the same houses. we are either going to be the best of friends, or be too alike to stand each other. We are basically living next door to ourselves.<br /><br />This has all the makings of a really good Twilight Zone episode.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-6730695334463789692007-07-11T00:57:00.000-06:002007-07-11T01:51:31.794-06:00MINE! (part IV, The Reckoning)First rule of Baby Fight Club - DO NOT TALK ABOUT BABY FIGHT CLUB.<br /><br />Pretend that your children are perfect, and always well mannered, and poop out strawberry scented rainbows and daffodils.<br /><br />Well, screw it, I'm talking about it. <br />The babies, they are fighting. They fight over toys, attention, food, shoes, oxygen, and perhaps even politics, (I don't understand their secret jibber jabber twin language.) Once one of them ultimately destroys the other, I am positive that I am next. <br /><br />Please, run for your lives. Don't look back, don't try and help me. I'll only hold you back. Save yourself.<br /><br /><br />***WARNING! The following images may be disturbing, and may possibly even cause sterility***<br /><br />The hair pulling begins<br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1E963KDlyZw"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1E963KDlyZw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br />Ruby's shit eating grin fails to negate the fact that she's just stolen a car<br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HDqTgz47EAk"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HDqTgz47EAk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br />Car fight rematch<br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-z_DUu0VLIE"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-z_DUu0VLIE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br />And just when I am about to give the girls away to the next group of circus folk travelling through town, they go and pull out The Cuteness. Here they are acting sweet, with some mildly inappropriate kissing.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/02B2dAk6I5c"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/02B2dAk6I5c" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-76730750039291106142007-06-30T09:32:00.000-06:002007-07-02T09:52:31.479-06:00SHUT UP (a movie review)Do you like enchanting, soulful, folky music? Do you like falling in love? Irish accents? Popcorn? Then shut up. Just shut your damn mouth and put on your jacket, or pashmina, or dickie with a sweater vest, or cape with nipple clamps, or what HAVE you, and RUN to your local indie theatre to see <BlogItemURL><br /> <a href="http://www.foxsearchlight.com/once/">this movie</a><br /></BlogItemURL> It is sweet and wonderful, and if you are not a robot, you will be totally charmed, and get chills and teary eyed at least twice. <br /><br />Hmm? What did you say? The term "romantic musical" makes you want to peel off the top layer of your skin, and throw it at the Silver Screen? Hey- it's daunting, I know, but trust me, it's not like that. It's funny and original, with perhaps a hint of "The Commitments" thrown in... and now I've said too much.<br /><br />What's that? Another question from the back? Yes- you in the green sequined assless chaps? Why YES, the soundtrack IS available on iTunes- we downloaded it this morning. I'm swooning over it even as I write this post. Every song is good. Look for Glen Hansard, Sir, you won't regret it. Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry. Ma'am.<br /><br />Plus- if you harbour the little singing musician fantasy that I do, you will eat this film up and ask for seconds. Just shut your damn piehole this minute, and go and see it. I give it four and a half out of five avocados.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-71852649228450041602007-06-21T12:55:00.000-06:002007-06-21T12:57:44.917-06:00borrowed sunshineWhen I look at these sweet faces, listen to this enchanting song, and watch Tracey's crazy fun filming, I know the heart of life is good.<br /><br />Our cousins in Toronto:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0euse0_4BxQ"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0euse0_4BxQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-39863207411368509372007-06-18T16:12:00.000-06:002007-06-18T16:44:32.171-06:00Grateful ListYou know when you get into a small rut, where you feel like you aren't doing enough? You're not smart or diligent enough and are not bettering the world, or making a difference, or even recycling properly? And instead, you are spending your energy worrying about stupid things like what strangers think of you and what things you want to buy, and you start spiralling into a pathetic pit of regret and self loathing? Maybe it's just me...<br /><br />Well, that's a good time to remember what I'm thankful for.<br /><br />1. I'm so glad that I am a woman. Don't get me wrong, I love men, and they have their own brand of greatness, but I love what womens' bodies can do, our female friendships, being a mother, and wearing ridiculous shoes. Love it.<br /><br />2. My husband loves me even when I am an ass, which is about every other day. He is the biggest gift of my life, with the patience of Job.<br /><br />3. Yesterday, I was making a pot roast, and Piper came up to me and said, " Mommy, what you make? A meat cake?" That is about eleven degrees of awesome. In our home, pot roast will hereafter be referred to as meat cake.<br /><br />4. I'm so grateful for my family, including my immediate family, and my in-laws. Seriously, if a genie popped up and granted me a gift of the greatest inlaws I could imagine - that would still not be as good as my actual inlaws - Robb's family is the most amazing group of people I know- I adore every single one of them. I don't know a soul who has it better than me in that department.<br /><br />5. Avocados. Delicious, nutritious, and oh, so pretty. They are the best possible colour of green when they are perfectly ripe. <br />God bless the avocado.<br /><br /><br />Ah... that's a bit better. Please share yours!Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-66927651929876525282007-06-17T14:11:00.000-06:002007-06-17T14:44:05.318-06:00Just for NowI'm sending this song out to Kate & Liam.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pSIbfzK2spg"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pSIbfzK2spg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />Imogen Heap is singing this live, RECORDING IT AS SHE GOES. Her voice (and a synthesizer to record it,) is the only instrument here. Amazing. Chilling. Enjoy.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-58794473143638575842007-06-15T14:53:00.000-06:002007-06-16T14:14:06.621-06:00Sweet Salty AngelKate said goodbye to her beautiful son, <BlogItemURL><br /> <a href="http://ingliseast.typepad.com/ingliseast/2007/06/the_gift_of_lia.html">Liam</a><br /></BlogItemURL>this morning.<br /><br />My heart is completely broken for her, and so very full for her at the same time.<br /><br />During his all too brief weeks on this earth, Liam must have shared some very important secrets with his mama, to help her make some sense of this, and find some peace. I can't understand her strength... but I don't need to. It's a special secret between her and her son. <br /><br />I can't presume to say that I understand what you are going through, Kate, but I do relate. Your Liam is my Lily, but their roads took different turns.. inexplicably, unfairly. I feel sick with guilt, anger and fear. It's all backwards... with your words bringing comfort to all of your readers, and we are unable to give as much back to you, as much as we all want to.<br /><br />Fly high Liam, sweet froggie boy. I know you'll take all of that love with you on your journey. And I know you'll keep a close eye on your mama, dada, and brothers, whispering in their ears, and warming their hearts. <br />I'm so glad that I was able to "meet" you, and that your family was able to hold you, smell you, know you and fall in love with you. <br /><br />Thank you for sharing this, Kate. As always, I am in awe of your wisdom, beauty, honesty and clarity.<br /><br />My love to you and your family.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-819338404816027582007-06-12T23:06:00.000-06:002007-06-12T23:52:07.841-06:00...and on my way to the computer, I broke my hipMy mom has been visiting for the past 10 days, and we've had a wonderful, fun filled visit. Tomorrow, she leaves, and I'm already having a little panic attack. I'm not good at saying goodbye to her, and that is a big understatement. I've learned that I can't take her to the airport, because I just fall apart, and I don't want to start bawling hysterically, and veer the car off onto the tarmac, and crash into a luggage cart. I'd rather act like a ridiculous baby in the privacy of my own home, so, my dad is taking her. I may even scream and hold my breath until she promises not to leave. She understands, because she's my mommy.<br /><br />I celebrated my 36th birthday last week... well, maybe "celebrated" is the wrong word, but I definitely turned 36. <br />Generally, I'm not upset about getting older, because my life has been getting better and fuller every year for the past 8 years or so. But I AM starting to FEEL older now- not necessarily wiser, but wrinklier and more tired. <br /><br />And I'm going to blame my age for my blogging laziness, because what good is getting older if you can't use it as an excuse? Everytime I sit down to write, my cataracts start acting up, and my arthritis flares up somethin' terrible. And it's so darn drafty in here since I turned 36. I wrote a big, long brilliant birthday post last week, but as I was clutching my shawl around my hunched, weathered shoulders, my dentures fell out and hit the keyboard and erased the entire thing. <br /><br />So, it's not that I am lazy or undisciplined, oh suspicious readers, it's just that I am so damn old. You can't fault me for that, you lil' whippersnapper hooligans. Don't make me swat at you with my handbag, run over you with my grocery trolley, and kick you with my orthopedic shoes while you are down. Because then, my giant 40 pound cat, Mr. McCuddles, will piss on you. He's also very old, blind and incontinent.<br /><br />Here are some pics of my great grandchildren:<br /><br />Piper swinging<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-COAR9V5I/AAAAAAAAAKo/gT445n_TW_U/s1600-h/Piper+swing.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-COAR9V5I/AAAAAAAAAKo/gT445n_TW_U/s400/Piper+swing.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075418482174941074" /></a><br /><br />Pip & Daddy examining bugs under the microscope<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-COQR9V6I/AAAAAAAAAKw/MxoUos6Bhm0/s1600-h/Science+Centre.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-COQR9V6I/AAAAAAAAAKw/MxoUos6Bhm0/s400/Science+Centre.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075418486469908386" /></a><br /><br />Grandmama with Ruby & Lily<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-COwR9V7I/AAAAAAAAAK4/GcZPUIloBnQ/s1600-h/twins+%26+Grandma.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-COwR9V7I/AAAAAAAAAK4/GcZPUIloBnQ/s400/twins+%26+Grandma.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075418495059842994" /></a><br /><br />Buckling in her baby sisters<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-BhgR9V3I/AAAAAAAAAKY/coUu0NEWu3I/s1600-h/big+sister.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-BhgR9V3I/AAAAAAAAAKY/coUu0NEWu3I/s400/big+sister.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075417717670762354" /></a><br /><br />Drinking contest<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-BiAR9V4I/AAAAAAAAAKg/89iuhNG-0yg/s1600-h/bottles.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ynlzSg4dnPU/Rm-BiAR9V4I/AAAAAAAAAKg/89iuhNG-0yg/s400/bottles.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075417726260696962" /></a>Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12456670.post-13128927613171001222007-05-24T17:13:00.000-06:002007-05-28T12:40:31.131-06:00Why Piper and I cannot take naps togetherSETTING: Afternoon naptime - Piper's bed <br />__________________________________________<br /><br />Piper: Mommy, I sing you a yuyabye! (to the tune of Go to Sleep Little Baby) MamaMAAAAA, MamamAAAAAAAA, Mama MA MA MA MAAAAAAAAAA!!!! MAMAMAAAAAAAA MAMAMAAAAAAA, mamamamama ma MAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!<br /><br />Me: OK, time for sleep now!<br /><br />Piper: Mummy, you a best fwend ina whole wide world!<br /><br />Me: You're my best friend too, sweetie! Night night now.<br /><br />Piper: (Sticking her finger in my face) PICK PICK PICK! I pick you nose! Hahahahaha!<br /><br />Me: Honey, don't do that. It's sleepy time now.<br /><br />Piper: Dat's INSTUCKSING!<br /><br />Me: (laughing) Yes, it IS disgusting. No more playing, honey. Sleepytime.<br /><br />Piper: I get bleeding nose ALL OVER Piper's bed. (when she picks too much)<br /> Where Daddy? At wook? Where Michie? Gamma here? etc......<br /> (starts singing) MOMMY I YIKE WHEN YOU COME HOME, YOU COME HOME, YOU COME HOOOOOOOOME!!<br /> HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOOOOOOOME!!!<br /> MARY HAD A YITTLE YAM! YITTLE YAM! YITTLE YAM!!! PIPER HAD A YITTLE YAM, WHO FEET ARE WHITE AS SNOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!<br /><br />Me: (starting to sing along to her silly lullabye..) And everywh-<br /><br />Piper: SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Mommy, dat's toooo noisy! Baby Suzy is sleeping! <br /><br />Me: Honey, I'm going downstairs, it's time to go to sleep.<br /><br />_________________________<br /><br />In other nostalgic news:<br /><br />Although Facebook is mostly a time sucking vortex, and "Ah wish ah could quit you, Facebook!", sometimes, it is pretty cool. <br /><br />Today I got in touch with a girl I used to babysit in Montreal in 1990. I recognized her name, and sent her a message, and she wrote me back, and it was HER! She was only a year old when I lived with her family, and I used to carry her around all of the time, play Itsy Bitsy Spider with her, rock her to sleep, and put ketchup on all of her food, so she would eat it. I just adored her. And now she is a lovely young lady, going to UNIVERSITY. I don't get it. Who will cut her food into tiny pieces and change her diapers at UNIVERSITY??!!! Who will apply the ketchup? Do they even HAVE cribs in the dorm rooms? It makes no sense to me. She is the age now that I was when I was her nanny. It's demented.<br /><br /><br />And, here are some more videos... because I can't help myself:<br /><br />Ruby & Lily wrestling yesterday:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VVA09p9qDus"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VVA09p9qDus" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br /><br /><br />Stoned Piper sings the alphabet. In case you were wondering, the letter that comes after Z is "BURP"!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fkSrPk4XNzQ"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fkSrPk4XNzQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><br />.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13540373421574507821noreply@blogger.com