I love blackbird's show and tell. Peeking into people's lives and houses, but in small, intimate and personal ways. It feels so warm and homey.
So, here's my computer – a place where i spend a lot of time and share my feelings with the world, my friends and my family. My eMac sits in the corner of the playroom, a room which the previous owners converted from a double garage. It's nice to have the extra space and it is the room where we spend the majority of our time as shane's giant-ass tv is in here. It is not, however, very pretty.
My computer was a gift last year for my 34th birthday from my brother-in-law. Wow. It still amazes me that he gave it to me. I suppose i have always, the last 15 years at least, been there for him. I have listened and offered advice as he changed from a fifteen year old boy into a warm and caring man. He lived with us for several years and we became a family. A house full of laughter and joy and anger and frustration. I have the relationship with him that i wish i had with my brothers.
So, i love my computer. I love it because it reminds me that someone other than shane and the kids cares about me.
The computer is also the only place where i have any sort of desk space. As i move along in this motherhood thing i realize it is like a job. A job in that there are lots of papers to shuffle on and off my desk.
This is also the place where the kids play computer games and shane records all his music, hence the keyboard and mike stand. It's the family computer.
I also have an iBook, but it is presently asleep upstairs with Parker. I should add that i am a spoiled girl. My iBook was a gift from my dad. It's a little slow and clunky, but i love it too.
~ when the sun blasts through your windows for the first time in months you will realize that your house is not nearly as clean as you thought. Plus, Magic Erasers wreck paint.
~ via google, lots of people are wondering where stephen harpers kids go to school – SCARY.
~ if you get wax from a home-waxing kit on the counter it is very hard to get off.
~ if you withhold sex as punishment – everybody suffers.
It's funny how accomplishing something small can make you feel so darn happy. The standards i set for myself are pretty low now. Today! I washed and made all six beds in the house. All in the same day. Amazing. Normally the cycle of laundry never really finishes as i always end up going to bed with a load still in the wash and another in the dryer.
Really, my life is taken over with un-bloggingly boring school stuff.
Back to my point. The thing that pisses me off the most in my life as a mother right now is the incredible lack of respect. Not by the world in general because that is always there and there is shit all i can do about that. I'm pissed off at shane. When i am sick or depressed or just in a rut – there is no relief (other than hours of sesame street) – i just soldier on. Do what i have to do.
My husband, and i assume others, feels entitled to wallow in whatever despair hits him. Screw everyone else he is bummed out and needs to ignore the rest of us. I know, i should stand up for myself. I've tried that. You know who suffers? The kids. They get the grumpy-ass, impatient, yelling dad. I won't do that.
So, an essay in photos of what he did today:
At 3:00 he came home, proclaimed himself depressed and flaked out on the couch.
So, I made all the beds:
Note the ELMO bed that santa brought parker. Everybody but parker sleeps in that bed.
Then i raced around playing with the kids, feeding the chickens – the usual. And began making dinner:
In between i played on the computer a bit:
While i did that he snuck off the couch and ate the first piece of the lemon cake i made for dessert which resulted in lots of "hey! who ate the cake. Can I have some?" And many tears.
I went back to dinner and setting the table. While i did this parker followed me around begging me to play with him and made these messes:
Eventually, i turned the TV on so that i could get dinner on the table:
I hate the shows that tristan picks. But, she is an eight year old with remote control savvy.
Eventually he got up to eat with us. After which he promptly warmed his spot on the sofa back up. I got the kids ready for bed. Why do they make such a mess with toothpaste?
At some point i screamed downstairs "SHANE GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND GET THE KIDS TO BED!" I put parker down, had a little snooze myself and ended my day looking a little weary.
And with that. Goodnight.
xxoo
In an effort to limit my driving time i am attempting to teach lucy to drive.
So, i've seen this commercial for new and improved Wonder Bread! Now with fibre, but tastes just like the original.
When i was growing up Wonder Bread was up there with child abuse in terms of big offences for my mom. In my family mom made homemade bread – white and brown (no such thing as whole wheat), she lovingly filled her shelves with homemade jam and baked us dessert from scratch EVERY NIGHT. Plus, she had four kids too. Amazing. Wonder Bread was expensive and bad for you!
Now, in my ever-growing list of doing things i swore i'd never do, i'm considering trying this yeasty concoction that promises healthy benefits for my children. My kids won't eat whole wheat, half wheat or any wheat – just white. It all started when Eliza had a severe allergy to dairy and white bread, one particular brand, was all i could find that was suitable for her. Since then it's been a slippery non-nutritional slide to yogurt tubes, cheese sticks and white bread sandwiches in the lunch boxes.
The Wonder Bread? It entices me with it's commercial goodness. I have fond memories of a field trip to the Wonder Bread factory in grade 4. We each were given a free loaf on the way out. I remember gleefully squeezing each piece into a little ball and eating the entire loaf on the playground because i knew if i took it home it would be confiscated.