What kind of question is that? Well, that is the kind of question I am routinely asked once, if not more, a week. Let me assure you I am easily identifiable as a woman. To everyone except my two year old. He, in fact, does have a penis. He seems to be mourning the fact that I do not share such good fortune.
This morning I was getting dressed for work and said two year old and his six year old brother were in bed with my husband watching TV. I was wearing a robe with nothing underneath as I had just gotten out of the shower and was standing in front of the closet getting my clothes for the day. Rhett decided this would be an opportune, not to be missed moment on his neverending quest to find my penis. He got out of bed and came over and proceeded to try and open my robe. I held it closed and he persisted. I told him no, leave it alone and his reply was: "I need to check your body". So I advised him this would not be necessary and continued to hold the robe closed. His response this time was to attempt to reach up underneath. I then gave in and told him I do not have a penis. "You no have penis?" (yes, English is his first language but he's only two). I assured him I did not. This seemed to satisfy him.
I should add it was unnecessary for him to "check my body" as in the not-to-distant past he whipped open the shower curtain while I was in there and upon having a look asked me if I had a penis. He knew the answer but he just can't accept my apparent misfortune.
Often times, after an incident of this nature, he does what I like to refer to as 'Penis Roll-Call'. Let me demonstrate:
Rhett: "Mom, you have a penis?"
Me: "No."
Rhett: "Reese, you have a penis?"
Reese: "Yes."
Rhett: "Steven, you have a penis?"
Steven: "Yes."
Rhett: "Justine, you have a penis?"
Justine: "No."
Rhett: "You no have penis?" (he always feels the need to double check, just in case at some point in her 13 years either she or I has missed it)
Justine:"No, I don't have a penis."
He then checks in with his dad, who, of course, has one. He is quite pleased with the many members in our home who do have penises and seems to feel a distinct sadness for those of us who don't. He is my third boy. They've all had their 'a-ha' moments when it comes to their respective penises but this guy's committment to his is second to none.
As for me, I'll carry on, penis-less and maybe, just maybe, all the better for it... ;)
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
A LIfe of Glamour & Privilege
First let me start by wishing all my fellow Saskatchewanites a Happy Family Day! Now let me tell you how my Family Day has gone thus far.
I have a raging head cold right now. Why is this important? I have not been sleeping well at all but finally last night had a lovely uninterrupted almost dreamless sleep. Yay. Then my six year old came in around 7 and wanted to get into bed with us. Sure, why not? He likes to sleep on his dad's side anyway and promptly went right back to sleep. After awhile he decided he would go downstairs and watch TV or play video games. Great. Works for me! Then sometime between 7:30 and 8 a.m. my two year old came in. He did not settle quite as nicely and I ended up putting the TV on for him. Still manageable. After awhile he decided he too would go downstairs. By this time I'm awake but it's after 8 a.m. so I'm not that concerned. I decide to lay in bed for awhile. I even dozed off momentarily and briefly dreamt about 'A Different World'. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about that was the spin-off of the 'The Cosby Show' that featured Denise at college. Why the hell was I dreaming about that? Beats me. Anyway I woke up again, pondered the origin of the dream and started to think about getting up. What happened next is where it all went awry.
My six year old came running up the stairs announcing he had "bad news" for us. And that, he did. Turns out our dog, who had all of three accidents as a puppy, had pooped on the carpet by the front door. Now he has a bit of a stomach ailment and sometimes he gets really sick and for whatever godforsaken reason this is where he feels the need to relieve himself. This isn't all that remarkable except for the fact our entire main floor has laminate flooring. There is a rug by the front door and a rug by the back door. He routinely chooses to deface either one of these when feeling under the weather.
The other good news was the two year old had peed on the couch. Well, glory hallelujah and Happy Family Day!
In the two year old's defense he was still wearing his diaper from last night so that was likely an overflow leakage situation, but still.
So up and out of bed. Sent the two year old upstairs to get cleaned up by dad, steam cleaned the couch. My husband came down and dealt with the dog's work, which by the way, was not evidence of his stomach ailment. Perhaps he is upset about something, I'm not sure, either way, thank God for the head cold because our house, according to my husband, has the distinct aroma of dog shit.
On top of all of that, I'm out of French Vanilla creamer for my coffee. When will the madness end?
I have a raging head cold right now. Why is this important? I have not been sleeping well at all but finally last night had a lovely uninterrupted almost dreamless sleep. Yay. Then my six year old came in around 7 and wanted to get into bed with us. Sure, why not? He likes to sleep on his dad's side anyway and promptly went right back to sleep. After awhile he decided he would go downstairs and watch TV or play video games. Great. Works for me! Then sometime between 7:30 and 8 a.m. my two year old came in. He did not settle quite as nicely and I ended up putting the TV on for him. Still manageable. After awhile he decided he too would go downstairs. By this time I'm awake but it's after 8 a.m. so I'm not that concerned. I decide to lay in bed for awhile. I even dozed off momentarily and briefly dreamt about 'A Different World'. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about that was the spin-off of the 'The Cosby Show' that featured Denise at college. Why the hell was I dreaming about that? Beats me. Anyway I woke up again, pondered the origin of the dream and started to think about getting up. What happened next is where it all went awry.
My six year old came running up the stairs announcing he had "bad news" for us. And that, he did. Turns out our dog, who had all of three accidents as a puppy, had pooped on the carpet by the front door. Now he has a bit of a stomach ailment and sometimes he gets really sick and for whatever godforsaken reason this is where he feels the need to relieve himself. This isn't all that remarkable except for the fact our entire main floor has laminate flooring. There is a rug by the front door and a rug by the back door. He routinely chooses to deface either one of these when feeling under the weather.
The other good news was the two year old had peed on the couch. Well, glory hallelujah and Happy Family Day!
In the two year old's defense he was still wearing his diaper from last night so that was likely an overflow leakage situation, but still.
So up and out of bed. Sent the two year old upstairs to get cleaned up by dad, steam cleaned the couch. My husband came down and dealt with the dog's work, which by the way, was not evidence of his stomach ailment. Perhaps he is upset about something, I'm not sure, either way, thank God for the head cold because our house, according to my husband, has the distinct aroma of dog shit.
On top of all of that, I'm out of French Vanilla creamer for my coffee. When will the madness end?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
I'm Broke
My husband needs to get a job. Pronto. And here's why:
At present we are very tight on cash thanks to my husband getting royally screwed by the last guy he worked for. Also thanks to same guy we have been a single income family since January 4th. Lots of families rely on one income, of this I'm aware. The difference here is that from the get-go we have always had two decent incomes. Anyway, this is not news to many of you but let me explain what happened today.
I was bored. There is no money for mindless shopping (or necessary shopping for that matter), movie rentals, restaurants...I'd already watched TV for a good part of the morning, so what to do? Well, I guess I could clean. Yuck. However I was overtaken by boredom and then music and set off cleaning this place like nobody's business! I am telling you I scrubbed bathrooms, note the 's', washed walls, again note the freaking 's' and did laundry and vacumned and dusted. Now I am exhausted.
The cleaning alone would've done me in but to avoid some of the drudgery of these necessary but dreary tasks, I listened to my Ipod. I used my headphones as my two year old was sleeping. My husband and other son went out for the afternoon (no, not to spend money). Oh and then there are my other two children who are on a cruise somewhere in Mexico. Don't even get me started! =)
Okay, back to the music. I love it all. I mentioned before when vodka and I used to chum I was quite the singer. Well what I may have failed to mention is that whether or not I'm with vodka, I love singing. Keep in mind people I love singing but am not necessarily good at it but that usually doesn't stop me. Just ask my husband, children, close friends, neighbours, acquaintances... Today, though, I couldn't sing. I was washing walls right outside my sleeping child's room so if you can't sing what do you do? You dance. Which I did. By myself. While lip syncing furiously. I have the feeling I may have slightly resembled someone seizuring with just a touch of rhythym. I couldn't help myself. The number I really got down to was Jealous Again by the Black Crowes. Right there in the little nook by my daughter's bedroom door I cut the rug until it was shag!
Maybe just to better aid your visual, keep in mind I had not yet showered today and was wearing zero make-up and a semi-fitted pink t-shirt and sweats. To complete the ensemble I had on a sports bra which equals uniboob. And as the shirt is somewhat fitted and I was really shakin' it from time to time my belly may have snuck out from under said shirt. Not cute. This belly has been through four pregnancies and my previously disclosed sugar addiction. Hot stuff, I know.
Please for the love of God and all that's right in the world, help my husband find a job before I start actually choreographing this shit.
At present we are very tight on cash thanks to my husband getting royally screwed by the last guy he worked for. Also thanks to same guy we have been a single income family since January 4th. Lots of families rely on one income, of this I'm aware. The difference here is that from the get-go we have always had two decent incomes. Anyway, this is not news to many of you but let me explain what happened today.
I was bored. There is no money for mindless shopping (or necessary shopping for that matter), movie rentals, restaurants...I'd already watched TV for a good part of the morning, so what to do? Well, I guess I could clean. Yuck. However I was overtaken by boredom and then music and set off cleaning this place like nobody's business! I am telling you I scrubbed bathrooms, note the 's', washed walls, again note the freaking 's' and did laundry and vacumned and dusted. Now I am exhausted.
The cleaning alone would've done me in but to avoid some of the drudgery of these necessary but dreary tasks, I listened to my Ipod. I used my headphones as my two year old was sleeping. My husband and other son went out for the afternoon (no, not to spend money). Oh and then there are my other two children who are on a cruise somewhere in Mexico. Don't even get me started! =)
Okay, back to the music. I love it all. I mentioned before when vodka and I used to chum I was quite the singer. Well what I may have failed to mention is that whether or not I'm with vodka, I love singing. Keep in mind people I love singing but am not necessarily good at it but that usually doesn't stop me. Just ask my husband, children, close friends, neighbours, acquaintances... Today, though, I couldn't sing. I was washing walls right outside my sleeping child's room so if you can't sing what do you do? You dance. Which I did. By myself. While lip syncing furiously. I have the feeling I may have slightly resembled someone seizuring with just a touch of rhythym. I couldn't help myself. The number I really got down to was Jealous Again by the Black Crowes. Right there in the little nook by my daughter's bedroom door I cut the rug until it was shag!
Maybe just to better aid your visual, keep in mind I had not yet showered today and was wearing zero make-up and a semi-fitted pink t-shirt and sweats. To complete the ensemble I had on a sports bra which equals uniboob. And as the shirt is somewhat fitted and I was really shakin' it from time to time my belly may have snuck out from under said shirt. Not cute. This belly has been through four pregnancies and my previously disclosed sugar addiction. Hot stuff, I know.
Please for the love of God and all that's right in the world, help my husband find a job before I start actually choreographing this shit.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Logic, where have you gone?
So I'd like to talk to you all about Wednesday. Guess what I did that day? I went to spin for the second time this week. Guess what I did after that? Went to 7-11 and purchased a two pack of Hostess cupcakes, 75 cents worth of gummy candies and an English Toffee Cappucino. I'm not sure I even tasted the cupcakes being that I inhaled them. At any rate, I finished this explosion of sugar and preservatives in less than 45 minutes. To be honest, the 'food' was gone within about 15...it was the coffee that took a while to drink. Once at home that night I had a few Hershey kisses, some chips and then right before bed, just one more cupcake (homemade this time) and a big glass of milk.
*Note: there is no mention of supper in here. Because I didn't have any. My perfect world would consist of eating a diet like Will Ferrell's in 'Elf'.
Now there are some who will say the reason I go to spin or to the gym at all is so I can eat like that. I argue that if I did not eat like this but continued to go the gym I could throw away my elastic waisted dress pants. Sigh. Although I do have to say it was a magical day when I found those pants at Reitman's. I felt like Forrest Gump when he sees Lt. Dan and comments on his "magic legs". I had found "magic pants".
*Note: there is no mention of supper in here. Because I didn't have any. My perfect world would consist of eating a diet like Will Ferrell's in 'Elf'.
Now there are some who will say the reason I go to spin or to the gym at all is so I can eat like that. I argue that if I did not eat like this but continued to go the gym I could throw away my elastic waisted dress pants. Sigh. Although I do have to say it was a magical day when I found those pants at Reitman's. I felt like Forrest Gump when he sees Lt. Dan and comments on his "magic legs". I had found "magic pants".
I am a fan of the show Intervention and on days like Wednesday (or Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, ...you get the idea) I feel I could qualify for a food addiction intervention. Or at the very least a sugar addiction. Wednesday I ate a banana and today I ate some mixed veggies at supper. That'll likely be the extent of my fruit and vegetable intake for the week. I've tossed around the idea of quitting sugar. Then I laugh and eat a King Size Twix (Kit Kat, Aero, Snickers, Mars,...again, you get the idea).
Will I go back to spin? Yes. My friends make me. Will I continue to go on rampant binges involving cupcakes and high fructose corn syrup? Yes. My life makes me.
For the record and back in relation to Fargs' untimely demise, I used to binge drink. Sadly now I'm left to Peanut M&Ms and baked goods...
Monday, February 8, 2010
Fargs is Dead - Part II
So some of you may remember a few months ago when I wrote about Fargs. Remember how she used to be so much fun and a party girl, etc etc etc and how I killed her? She suffered a second death this weekend; let me elaborate.
I went to Saskatoon this weekend for a little break. Went to spend time with my mom and my brothers. Nothing wrong with that. Fargs would do that. Okay, all's well. Not quite. I started out the day okay, had a couple of drinks and visited and pissed off this drunk pessimist cynical self-righteous self-pitying fellow, but had a good time doing so. Which by the way was an eye opener because I thought I was angry and bitter, but there are far worse out there. But I digress.
The big goal of the evening was to watch my brother's band play. He plays in two bands but this was the grindcore metal band, Mechanical Separation. Not my usual genre of music but watching him play is awesome, so I go and love every minute of it. The catch was, and brace yourselves, they didn't go on the stage until 11:30 p.m.!!! Can you even believe it? How the heck am I supposed to stay up for that business? I need my teeth brushed and flossed, moisturizer applied, digestive aids taken well before then, this simply would not do! As I said though, I love to see him play and my other brother was coming out too and it's always fun hanging out with him...so I pressed on.
Back in the day, Fargs would've started drinking at 3 p.m. and not thought twice about carrying on right through until show time and beyond. However, this currently was not the case. All I could think about was not wanting to be that drunk (which is a sign of maturity, I know, blah blah blah) and how hungover I would be the next day and I had a two hour drive home. So I took 'er easy. Booorrringgg. However, made it to the bar to watch the show. My brother showed up, yay, let's have some more drinks. Yay, I'm out at a bar. Yay, I'm having drinks. Yay, those people are 22 and yay they have a wide assortment of piercings, tattoos and dreads...Yay, I look like a fucking soccer mom headed to the PTA meeting (of which I'm not a member, I tried that when my oldest child was in Kindergarten and those are some heartless bitches). Anyway, it was so depressing. My mother looked cooler than I did. Granted, she's a young looking trendy person but for the love of God I might have well taken Rice Krispie treats and Kool-Aid for the band....
In time I got over the horror of it all and figured what the hell, these people don't know who I am, technically I am a soccer (football, hockey, volleyball) mom, so fuck it. Then the show was over. I was inspired by my brother's passion for music and his ability to play it. My other brother wanted me to go party with him. I said no. Why, you say? I was scared! He's 27 and I'm not. He's single, childless and sowing his wild oats, so to speak, and I'm not. I'm married, riddled with children and the only thing I do with oats is eat them to ensure some form of regularity. I honestly did not think I could possibly cope with what his night might entail and could not get away from the thought of death by hangover nor did I really want to ditch my mom. He teased me a little, which I deserved, but I just buttoned up my cardigan and put on my sensible winter wear and went home.
RIP Fargs...
I went to Saskatoon this weekend for a little break. Went to spend time with my mom and my brothers. Nothing wrong with that. Fargs would do that. Okay, all's well. Not quite. I started out the day okay, had a couple of drinks and visited and pissed off this drunk pessimist cynical self-righteous self-pitying fellow, but had a good time doing so. Which by the way was an eye opener because I thought I was angry and bitter, but there are far worse out there. But I digress.
The big goal of the evening was to watch my brother's band play. He plays in two bands but this was the grindcore metal band, Mechanical Separation. Not my usual genre of music but watching him play is awesome, so I go and love every minute of it. The catch was, and brace yourselves, they didn't go on the stage until 11:30 p.m.!!! Can you even believe it? How the heck am I supposed to stay up for that business? I need my teeth brushed and flossed, moisturizer applied, digestive aids taken well before then, this simply would not do! As I said though, I love to see him play and my other brother was coming out too and it's always fun hanging out with him...so I pressed on.
Back in the day, Fargs would've started drinking at 3 p.m. and not thought twice about carrying on right through until show time and beyond. However, this currently was not the case. All I could think about was not wanting to be that drunk (which is a sign of maturity, I know, blah blah blah) and how hungover I would be the next day and I had a two hour drive home. So I took 'er easy. Booorrringgg. However, made it to the bar to watch the show. My brother showed up, yay, let's have some more drinks. Yay, I'm out at a bar. Yay, I'm having drinks. Yay, those people are 22 and yay they have a wide assortment of piercings, tattoos and dreads...Yay, I look like a fucking soccer mom headed to the PTA meeting (of which I'm not a member, I tried that when my oldest child was in Kindergarten and those are some heartless bitches). Anyway, it was so depressing. My mother looked cooler than I did. Granted, she's a young looking trendy person but for the love of God I might have well taken Rice Krispie treats and Kool-Aid for the band....
In time I got over the horror of it all and figured what the hell, these people don't know who I am, technically I am a soccer (football, hockey, volleyball) mom, so fuck it. Then the show was over. I was inspired by my brother's passion for music and his ability to play it. My other brother wanted me to go party with him. I said no. Why, you say? I was scared! He's 27 and I'm not. He's single, childless and sowing his wild oats, so to speak, and I'm not. I'm married, riddled with children and the only thing I do with oats is eat them to ensure some form of regularity. I honestly did not think I could possibly cope with what his night might entail and could not get away from the thought of death by hangover nor did I really want to ditch my mom. He teased me a little, which I deserved, but I just buttoned up my cardigan and put on my sensible winter wear and went home.
RIP Fargs...
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