Click Click Click goes the Camera! Smile Smile Smile Goes my Son! Tic tic tic goes my jawline, I'll be happy when this shit is done!!!!

It's Thursday! That means it's almost Friday! That means that in Five days my son and I get to go do the X-mas piccys that are distributed to random family members every year! That means that, if nothing goes wrong with getting our piccys this time, unlike every other year, that everyone should receive their X-mas piccys by New years! yay! almost on time for something for once! yippee.
Just a tip. Never do X-mas piccys at wal-mart, as they don't tend to employ the regular version of people. at least not here in Bellybutton. But, as I tend to be both a sucker for punishment and Lazy, I've faithfully gone to Wallyworld every year to get piccys done. I can remember now that I'm not intuitively blocking my memories as I so often do, the first year was fraught with retardation. We actually got someone Else's pictures before we got our pictures! And when we finally Did receive our piccys, they had decided to print us the cast-off ones and not the ones we'd asked for. that was fun.
Last year, I got a phone call about a week after the shoot, saying that something was wrong with the film(even though the pictures are taken digitally) and that our entire shoot would have to be re-done, though not in time for X-mas, or probably even V-day. I opted for a full refund, and I got a free disc with all of our pictures on it, even though it probably would have taken them about 5 minutes to re-print the pictures for us. I later learned that one of the girls that had done the shoot had had a Major hissy fit, and had deleted all the photos she was supposed to be printing out, and subsequently got fired for it. How we still got a full CD of the pictures after that is beyond me, but whatever.
This year's picture shoot has been rescheduled twice due to people leaving/quiting/getting the hell out of there before Wal-mart's Apocalypse, so we'll see what happens. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Day of Rest-easy-chore-day

I'm thinking I will take sundays off from writing stupid shite. After all, I take my sundays off from every other job, and this means I have more time to spend away from computer and more time to spend on laundry, dishes, folding my mounds of laundry, and of course, doing that whole rest on Sunday thing that the religious peeps do. . . hahaha! I almost wrote that with a strate face. Couldn't do the whole religiousity thing if I tried. but seriously, can't type and do laundry at the same time, so. taking my sundays to be distracrtkeds-I mean distracted by my son.

The potty adventures.

I remember when I was potty-training my son how long it took him to go. A really long, long, time. I mean, really how hard is it? get in, get on, get out right? well, it took me about three weeks before I learned that that was what he was doing, he just had to stop in the mirror after, and tell himself he was sexy. This was also back in the time when he'd strip down in front of people and tell them he looked sexy and then dance. I try to block this from my memory, but lack the refinement to do so. I also remember when he took his first poop in a potty. he was impressed. I was grossed out. He wanted to take a picture (just like a little man!!!) I said no, and then he replied, 'But Mom! It's soo Big!! pleasseee?' I'm proud to say that I never gave in, though I did giggle and snort like a little she-pig. And that is the reason why whenever my son takes a crap, he will tell everyone how big it is. which is just Fan-Tast-tic.

a Whimsical Winter Wonderland of Wisecracks

I love winter. No joke. Most people here don't really like the white stuff, but not me. I love it. Here are ten good reasons why.(just cuz ten seemed like the right number to put down. gut feeling, that's all.)

1.Location, Location, Location:

I live in a province (yes I said province) where 6-8 months of the year are covered in snow. you can't get rid of it. You can't form petitions to have it forcefully removed, cuz goddamn muther nature will just keep giving it back. You can't escape it because the land is so flat you give up trying after about three days of running. all you see is white.

2.Kids:

I have a child, who loves to build and throw and destroy things. yes I have a boy-beast. Snow,to me at least, is a built-in toy/friend/bribe that I don't have to pay for. I mean... what the hell. yeah. it's free. and that makes me happy in my pants. and my heartstrings. if I had any.

3.Weather:

I can't quite describe the feeling I get when I look up and see the murky grey sky, that chill in my bones, and the wind through my hair. It makes me happy inside. it makes me think of past winters and hot chocolate, and don't eat yellow snow-too late, and forts and making graves for dead squirrels that you find in your annoying neighbours/ neighbourhood nemesis's yard, just so you can have the satisfaction of 5 months later having the snow melt and the looks on their faces. Now that, my friends, was long-term fun.

4.Clothing:

mittens. and toques. I believe that says it all. oh wait...

5.Holiday aromas:

The sizzle of wet mittens and toques as you dried them on the heating vents and the almost overpowering smell of wet dog that seemed to waft from these seemingly harmless little knitted accessories.

6.The Holiday Sales:

Not the Holidays themselves, those are just a bullshit commercialized reason for you to buy things for other people so they'll be your friends for another year. No. I like the shopping for me. and what better time to buy useless, and sometimes harmful, or at least pretty stuff, than when it's on sale for a completely different reason? no time like snow time, I always say. like just now.

7.Tunes:

On the topic of Holidays, that pretty much go hand in hand with winter, my next favorite thing is the X-mas Songs. Now, I'm a bit un-orthidox about this one, as I can't seem to remember any bloody holiday jingle when there's actually need for one, but give me a nice hot sunny sunday in June, when everybody else is singing about their blings, ices, ice-cream, umbrellas and whatnot, I'm singing Jingle bells.

8.Chocolate:

Yes kiddies, the Queen of all things sugary, bittersweet, and overpriced. Now, you can get chocolate pretty much any day of the year, but only during the winter can you get Cadbury's Chocolate elves a'la pop rocks. If you haven't had one of these things, you should. if you don't know what pop rocks are, you're stoopid. if you don't care, that's fine by me. These things are on the highest pillars of awesomeness, and they will never come down. unless they start putting pop rocks into reese's.

9.Boots:

well, a chance to buy new shoes of any kind really. I'm not particular. But I guess for the occasion, It'll have to be boots. or sexy heels for new years. . . mmmmmmm, shoes....

10.Golden Glowing Glacial Graupel:

otherwise known as: yellow snow. ahar de har ha ha. too funny.

attack of the Nine foot snot ball!

So every year that I take sonny-boy out to the trick or treating, there's always sickness afoot to follow us down those dimly lit streets of mask and marshmallow goodness. Usually it's the little one with the sniffles, where at least the right sleeve of whatever costume he happens to be wearing(or not). This year however, I have been blessed with the mass sniffles, the snargles, the loogies, lung butter, quantum nose explosions, whatever you want to call it. It's okay though. I was searching for my winter coats earlier this week, and I came across at least three twelve packs of mini-kleenex, so I apparently had a little pre-cog in the realm of this 'holiday' and decided maybe I should stock up on the nose fluff for future fun with the holidays. yay for me.
Or, as I should put it more accurately, agghhaayy for Bhee.
However, My mind seems to be working properly, at least for the time being, or maybe this is all a big snot induced dream and I'm going stark raving, but I have a story for you. well, more like a tutorial. It's called, How to Wear Face Paint. or more importantly, How to Look like a Tool While Wearing Face Paint.(even though you're not even in school yet.)
This is a tradition that's passed down from generation to generation, mostly through sibling to sibling, then sibling's child then child's sibling, and so on.
Now I have vague recollections of Aunty Awesome wearing Face Paint at some point in my young life , although I'm not sure it was for Halloween, (it was the 80's after all.) But obviously, I thought it looked super-cool, and one year, either my 4th or 5th (or my 3rd or 6th, can't remember, I know I was young, and It's therefore one of my first memories) and on a particularly chilly halloween I decided I wanted to be a witch. I'm sure I wasn't really particular about what kind of witch, but I was dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West, with a lovely costume one of my Kin/clan/brood had made for me, might have even been my mother, she was a whiz with the needle. (in the most respective way!. idiots.) My memory wants me to say that my aunt was there, and that we were getting ready in her apartment, so I will. Also, I believe that it may have been my aunt smearing me with the green paint, and therefore mebbe my theory of sibling-child-sibling contact has been debunked, Mebbe I'm confused, what ever, but all in all what I really, really remember, is the texture. Now if you've ever had your face painted before, you'll know the texture I'm talking about. you might even like it. Me, however, not so much. I gag at even the sight of unnkown snot, drool, unverified liquid, let alone having it rubbed into my face and letting it dry. Not to mention the chalky/acrylic smell of a Face Paint Stick.

side note: I wasnt' even sure they made the Face Paint Sticks any more, as all I've seen are those newfangled Crayons, or pots of paint. These Sticks are basically Tongue depressors that have been dipped in the nasty non-toxic goo that then gets dried Onto the stick and packaged in a variety of Five colours for your convenience.also, the only picture I could find without actually searching was a link to a link, so whatever you do, don't press close window, cuz you'll lose the story. if you pressed it already and the window closed on you, you're a tard. just sayin. kay. back to the story.

So Here I am, in my Black dress-over-snowsuit and my cape, hat and broom, and My aunt is getting up close and personal with my face and this Glow in the dark green paint stick, and all I can do is sit quiet and not complain, because I'm sure at the time there was no reason. Now let me ask something else. Has anyone tried to give themselves a home facial? you know the Face mask that's supposed to peel off that top layer of skin and all that icky dirt in your pores? That gel-ley one that you're supposed to leave on for ten to fifteen so it can dry and then you peel off and feel refreshed? remember that feeling. That's what the paint stick feels like once it has dried. For all those that have never had a home facial before, sneeze in the crook of your elbow, let the snot dry, then try moving your arm. That's what it feels like. bleagh.
I spent quite a while outside covered from hairline to chin in that stuff, completely oblivious to the fact that it wasn't coming off very easy, not even when my face was getting sweaty from all the running and the high from the sugar-adrenaline mix. after that night, I vowed I would never, ever, EVER cover my face in that stuff again. Then I realized I was only five or six, and so probably promptly forgot about it and went back to arguing with my dad over the nibs/licorice. I remember, a few years later, My sister wanting to be a devil for hallow's eve (myself having moved on to gypsies and fairies, smart choice), and she was bedecked out in the hidious stuff, in the colour of red. I also remember her face after about half an hour and thinking, gee they don't make that stuff like they used to, as her face had either disintigrated, or bled onto her mitts and coat collar. Now, this year, My sonny-boy is going as Scooby-doo, something he is very adamant about, and I'm contemplating passing on the curse to him, but I just can't find a paint stick in even a close colour to the baby-shit-orange his costume is. Somehow I don't even think I'll be able to take him outside after I paint him. I'll be too busy rolling around on the floor, peeing my self with tears in my eyes.

Of Sweat and Snot, Of Balls and Tots

Kay, so I'm running on about 5 hours sleep, and about 9 pots worth of coffee, so if the following thingy doesn't make a whole lot-a sense, then.. whatever. I don't really care. I just feel the need to express to all of the 40+ gentlemen out there, and even some of the women, that it is NOT OKAY to have mass amounts of spare change in your pockets when wearing sweatpants. you probably shouldn't be wearing sweatpants out in public anyways, but especially not with 10 bucks in change. Small, small change. This leads to the question of why you were wearing sweatpants in public, as most people who do are, well, exercising and sweating, or just a tad to big for any other material, and therefore, probably sweating also. This leads me into the knowledge that all of that big hunk of change vicariously swinging around your nether regions has probably also been co-mingling with the inevitable sweat of your said regions ( See: why people wear sweats in public), and saying that, I have just one question for those who apply to the previous. WHY DO YOU INSIST ON PAYING FOR SOMETHING ENTIRELY IN SWEATY BALL/GUNT CHANGE!???!?!?!??? eww. This is why every store should buy stock in Purell. or any kind of sanitizing agent. I seriously do not want to be touching coins covered in unknown/unverified liquids and/or moisture and heat of some kind. makes me kinda barfy. Maybe that would stop the sweaty change-exchange. If you hand me your taint-ed coins(get it? taint-ed? heh? heh? ahh.. nevermind) and I barf on your purchase(no refunds, sorry) that'll teach you a lesson. or maybe I'll just lose business. damn. no way to win.

Coming back to why I'm on minimal sleep/maximum caffiene exposure, I have one very sick little boy.This weekend was long, tiresome and snot filled due to my kid contracting some kind of throat icky. I tell ya, even though it may be cute when your little one sounds like a mixture of Big Gay Al and Miss Piggy when talking, throat infections are not fun. Sure the 'banana' medicine is awesome! I mean who hasn't actually looked forward to that tasty concoction when diagnosed with some ear/nose/throat malady? I certainly haven't. But even with the mass advancements in making all our drugs taste like candy, no one has entirely figured out how to make acetominaphin (spelling? bah. who cares, you get the gist.) not taste like ass. First they had grape and orange (Tylenol people. still have nightmares about it myself) , then cherry and bubblegum(even in the no name brand!), even mint(didn't last long as the menthol came off on your hands and subsequently went into your eyes. stingy.), and now a 'fruit medley' and 'citrus squeeze' or something like that. And My son Still Runs screaming from the room with his hands over his mouth while blubbering and choking on his own snot any time I mention the 'chewy pills'. They made Chlortriplon taste all right, why can't they perfect this? gawd, even my Allergy pills have a candy coating, and they came out with those Halls dissolvable sheets, like the listerine thingys. silly pill makers! get it right! for all the parents of sick kids! do it for us! pleeeaaaassssseeeeee!!!!
that's it. for now.

By the Power of Leapfrog!!!

So here we are again, me showing off with the tardiness of my writing capabilities. bad! bad me! I have shamed myself. really. and with so much news to tell! I got a part in that Crazy white trash musical, since past,(the last showing was July 26th, to be exact) and it was a complete blast. really. lotsa fun. lotsa work too, since I was also working at the same venue that I was rehearsing, and eventually performing at. All at the same time. So if we work out the total life time I lost to this from the rest time I received, I technically only had Wednesday evenings off, with Sunday to Tuesday nights reserved for learning the play, and Thursday to Saturday nights for working. And Monday to Friday days for also working. But still, lotsa fun. Lots of drama too, and I don't mean with the actors. My own life tends to spiral out of control when I least expect it, which due to my goldfish memory-holding capabilities, is quite often. And in the midst of the swirling vortex which is my agenda, I usually tend to lose sight of the big picture, whilst trying to keep each little piece in order, resulting in broken appendages both literal and figurative. all of my own making of course, me being the control freak that I am. But enough of that. I know what I've done, and by means of keeping something slightly private, and away from prying webular eyes, I'll move on. This is no pity party after all.

No! this is about my son!

Do you know how interesting it is to teach a boy to recognize his ABC's?

My son is learning his letters, albeit reluctantly. After all, who needs letters and books when there are movies and video games to be had! and the funniest bit? I don't have TV, we rarely watch movies, and I don't own a gaming system of any kind. This is all learnt exclusively through outside sources, via babysitters, friends, etc. So... three hours, and a coupla timeouts later, and we now know ABCDFOSTXZ, and not in that order. But it's a start. I tell ya, if not for leapfrog, I would be forced to do it by hand, and then, even though I'm sure the letters would be learned in order, we would not have gotten as far. Also, I would thank nameless, who has a heck of a lot more patience than I, for about half an hour in, I was cleaning to relieve the tension, while sonny boy and nameless were still going at it. my parenting skills stop at a certain limit, apparently, mostly with teaching school-type things, as I can't even remember how I learned my alphabet, though I do recall a certain book with pictures of things that started with each letter, the most eye-catching picture being the ashtray labeled under Aa. And people wonder why I smoke. ha ha. ha..yeah.

Keeping with the subject of Learning new things and My son, there's the small matter of sports. Which is really quite big, if you look at all angles. He's starting in a swimming class come September, and myself and another have been trying to teach him other various sports, such as baseball, soccer, etc. Mostly starting with the fact that he can't just quit or cry when he doesn't get it right the first time. And let me tell you, not the easiest thing to instill in a child. there has to be a magic sentence or something that you say to the child, and BOOM! no more whiny give-ups. And they are not 'you only cry if you're a girl', 'big boys don't quit, you wanna be a big boy don't you?', ' if you quit then you don't get ice-cream', and other such bribes. And no, I am not above bribing, sometimes it's the best way to quiet the situation. I'm not saying it solves anything, just that sometimes it's better to compromise with food and/or toys and/or free-time, than to lose Mommy's sanity. But on the upside, he's learning.... slowly, like snail-speed multiplied. Example. I took him out to the park with a soccer ball, and took him to the field, and we started by running the length of the field while kicking the ball in front of you. that lasted about 20 yards. then we kicked it back to each other, which resulted in him picking up the ball and throwing it at me because he was frustrated. so I hit it with my head. THEN he was interested. So what was Going to be a teaching session, turned into a half-hour of Me throwing the ball at his head, and him running around trying to get it to bounce back to me. see? Not entirely wasted, but not the first thing I would've preferred to teach him. Enjoyable though. Kind of satisfying when you get to whack your son on the head, and he wants more. yup. Caring and responsible parent. That's me.

that's all my rantings for now. at least until we learn LMNOP. that should be fun. ha ha. ha....

HALLOWEEN!

ok, so it's a little late, but not too too late, so I'll tell you all about it.
So The Last week of October, my son has had a bad flu,(this is a reminder, Please, get a flu shot, to save the ickies.) So, sonny had been spiking temps of about 103.-whatever since Monday the 29th, and was not in the best of health for tricky-treating. But, alas, daycare is such a wonderful place, that by the time pick-up time came around, he was up and about, full of Motrin, and running a wonderful little 'I'm goin tricky-treatin! yay for candy' rant, and since his dad had promised a week before to take him out, I couldn't really say no. Could I? so off home we go, and by the time we pick up daddy from work, the little tyke is passed out. yup, snoring in the car seat, oblivious to the whole day. Should I have just moved him from car seat to bed and not even tried the rest of the night? said enuf is enuf, and be done with it? probably.
so we get home, and daddy gets sonny out of the car seat, and sonny wakes up and lo and behold, starts the rant again. Now this whole rant was really kinda cute to hear in a way, since he was losing his voice, and it was coming out a squeak, so it kinda sounded like he was daydreaming. huh. So we get home, and bring out the spider man costume, figure we can tour the apartment building, and go home. Here is the first trial. even though Logan has worn the costume before, He doesn't want to wear it with clothes on. so we take off the clothes. Then he doesn't want to wear it at all. He can't understand as we try to explain that you can only get candy if you dress up. 'I can't wear it', he wails, and for a kid that's losing his voice, that's pretty impressive. So we ask why, and he replies' I can't tell you' and then proceeds to get really upset. So I ask Daddy to go put on his chef whites that he wore to work that day, and tell Logan that Daddy dressed up for candy, can you? NO. but if both daddy and mommy dress up for candy, then can you? NO! and more balling.
So this goes on for about, oh, 10-15 minutes, and then finally I tell daddy to calm kiddo down, don't ask him any more questions, and I start rooting thru the boxes in the storage closet for years past costumes. can't find anything. Start looking in my closet and his for anything that he can dress up as. Can't find anything. Then, on the brink of everyone bursting into tears, I find a pair of kiddy wranglers that good ol' uncle Hungarian and auntie got him for the Christmas before, that were a couple sizes too big, and I can't say inspiration hit me,... it was more like desperation. So in the background with Logan wailing, and daddy only slightly freaking out, and me more so, I find a vest that I wear and a cowboy hat I have that badly needs reshaping, and ask Logan if he wants to be a cowboy. NO. the wails get worse and after yet another failed attempt at explaining that only dressed-up kids get candy, it's daddy's turn for a brilliant idea. How about we just get you re-dressed and then go out for candy?
ok.
So we put him into the wranglers, and then a sweater, and then another sweater, and then his big boots, and a scarf, and get a pillow case. Sneaky. At this point we ask him if he wants to wear the cowboy hat. Big mistake. The wailing starts again, and at this point the mommy-meter for patience wears out, and I go 'OK! NO HAT! LETS JUST GET A BASEBALL CAP AND PRETEND YOU'RE A FARMER!'
But we bring the hat along just in case.
So we decide to go outside, to the street just behind us that Logan and I have meandered through many times before, and when we get to the first house, I ask sonny if he wants to wear the cowboy hat.
Ok.
AHHHH! I should have known.
So we get to the first couple of houses okay, including the one guy who just moved in and was renovating, so he gave Logan a couple of granola bars and a box of kd, then shut his porch light off. So as Logan is finally getting into the spirit of things, we get to this house in a cul-de-sac thing, and Logan goes up yells(as best he can, which isn't much with no voice, so mom and dad have to help) tricky- treating! and this little old lady answers the door, and she falls all over him like he's the cutest thing she's ever seen and of course in doing so, boosts up said parents egos and confidence, and then she asks him The Question.
'Are you a cowboy?'
and at this Logan looks so offended, and responds angrily' NO! I'm a Logan! '
and the lady lets out a twitter, and says 'I'm sorry, we don't get many Logan's dressed-up here."
and Logan says, 'I'm not dressed- up! Don't talk to me'
and turns around.
yeah.
Fan-tastic.
So after mass apologies, and I think the lady wasn't too offended, she still gave him raisins, and we're on our way. So I think Logan cheered up a bit after that, and did his usual flirting, and got mass handouts, and I do mean mass handouts, we hit 20 houses or so, and Logan filled half a pillow case. There was even one house, where the parents were ready to take Their kids out, and so they gave Logan like six bags of chips. This was also the house Logan met spider man. There was a five-six yr old dressed up as spider man, and he gave Logan one of the bags of chips, and you can just see His eyes go Wide! and soo surprised, and he says,'HI SPIDER MAN!' and goes to give this kid a hug, and I'm glad this kid wasn't older and more wary, cuz he returned the hug, and Logan is just glowing. His dad and I didn't really have the heart to tell him that spider man is a little taller than 3 foot 3. And after we hit one side of the street, it was time to go home, as his dad and I were taking turns either holding the candy-filled pillowcase, or holding Logan, and to tell the truth, it was hard to tell which weighed more.
So we get home, and logan gets back down to his diaper, and mommy dumps out the pillow-case to search for tainted goodies, and it wasn't bad, I only threw out a marshmallow thing and the box of raisins. I swear some people should definitly check expiration dates if they're going to give out healthy food. I don't condone it, in fact I recommend it, but really. Dont just give it away cuz it's been in your cupboard for the last five years, and you can't bring yourself to throw it out....
so that is the halloween story, and it's pretty scary, at least parts of it are in my eyes.
Stay tuned for more adventures from the Tiny Pianist!