Sterling Cooper Intern

This is me if I was living in the 50's working at an ad agency.  I know I'd be one classy lady, but with spunk and not a goody two shoes Stepford wife.  I'd totally be like Joan.  I love Mad Men, it's such a great show.  And after I did this Eric said I looked like Joan which is the most amazing compliment EVER!  Joan is a foxy, sassy, redhead with a bright spark!

Christmas Dragon Strikes!

So a couple weeks ago I had a chit chat with Gage about Santa.  Most importantly I wanted to know if he truly believed in Santa anymore because I really didn't want to buy him a bunch more presents from "Santa".  After a very awkward conversation, where I'm still not sure if I actually ruined Christmas for him or not, it was put out there that when a kid turns 13, Santa turns the reigns over to the Christmas Dragon who brings a stocking full of goodies and leaves a Christmas poop floater in the toilet for the morning.   Gage thought this was much cooler than Santa and was completely ok with it.

Well, much to my chagrin, last night Karma got the better of me.  When I came home from a birthday party and went up to my bedroom I took great notice that my room smelled like a big, steaming, pile of shit.  I took the entire tour of my room looking for the culprit and came up empty handed.  So after going through the Christmas presents I got from Margie at the party, I climbed into my bed and discovered a huge pile of fresh poop.  I suspect it wasn't the Christmas Dragon but either a master poet or a fluffball with both an identity and sexuality crisis.  I hadn't noticed it prior because it was sitting all snug in my bed on my amazing new brown sheets. 

Have I mentioned how much I hate cats?  Well I hated them last night at 1 a.m. while I was running a load of laundry and changing my sheets.

Jesus' Birthday!

After writing this blog title, it's become apparent to me that I'm bummed that we didn't have any birthday cake.  Kind of put out by it now that I've given it some thought.  Anywho, I'll get over it.  Onto Christmas day.

Our day began, quite surprisingly, at 7:20 a.m. when Roan came upstairs to wake corral us.  I asked him what time he got up at and he informed me that he'd been awake since 6:30 a.m reading his space book.  In my sleepy haze I told him he wasn't supposed to be into his Santa stuff without getting us up first and then realized, oops, how would I know that Santa brought him a new Space book???  So I quickly tried to recover with uh, what book Roan, the one Jill and Larry got for you?  So far, he hasn't clue in to my goof up. 

We woke Gage up and made our way into the living room to watch them open their stockings.  Roan's from Santa, Gage's from the Christmas Dragon as he's 13 now and doesn't believe in Santa anymore.  We then broke into the presents for the boys that were from Eric and myself.  After a flurry of paper and 10 minutes, all the hype was over for another year.  So overrated.  Gage walked away with an entirely new wardrobe of skateboard clothes (which he wanted), a couple of collectible toys from video games which he loved and some Xbox shit he requested.  He was content.  Roan scored a bunch of Halo toys, Legos, a ton of art supplies, and some cool Space stuff, though he was quite put out when I told him the presents had run dry.  Overall though, I think he was quite happy with his stash.

A couple hours later we were rounding up the boys, heading to drop them at their dad's for the day and night and make our way back into Welland for Christmas lunch with Eric's parents and extended family.  Have I mentioned how much more I love food when someone else cooks it for me?  I think I probably have, but let me reiterate.  I LOVE WHEN OTHER PEOPLE COOK ME FOOD.  Eating in restaurants is probably my biggest vice...I'm aware of this.

That's Eric and Muma Cobra, Jill

And this one is us.

After dinner Eric's family has a tradition of having Christmas pudding with custard on it.  They soak it in booze then light it on fire.  All it made me want was Saganaki.  It's grossness all around.  There should never be chewy fruit in cake.  Yuck.  Anyway, I ate about 8 pounds of rice krispy squares, much to my satisfaction while they all got drunk on cake.  Larry is a huge fan of the custard portion of this delicacy and at one point I thought for sure he was going to lick the bowl after he scraped it clean. I had the camera ready, but he disappointed me.  Maybe he caught me with the camera, ready to capture it for eternity and refrained.  I know he secretly wanted to lick the bowl though.

After dessert, Eric and I had to quickly part ways.  But not before jumping on his Uncle Denis' lap while he was dressed like Santa and getting a festive photo op!  And then we came home and I napped.  Nothing better than a tummy of turkey and a nap on Christmas day in a quiet house. 

Thank you for being born baby Jesus, even if you never asked to be born!! 

Christmas with the Cobra Clan

So on Christmas Eve we began our weekend of chaos & meals cooked by other people and headed over to Eric's parents for our gift exchange and dinner.  We kept it simple and ordered pizza, much to Eric's delight.  It felt weird for me not to have Chinese food on Christmas Eve, but maybe we'll do something like that for New Years Eve....  While we waited for Chris, Lisa and Felix we watched Christmas Vacation (always a crowd pleaser) and ate h'ordeurves (I know I didn't spell that right, back off!).

After dinner we did our gift exchange.  I was so glad Larry loved his car stuff and book.  I was worried it wasn't too personal (I spend clearly too much time making sure someone's gift is about them for me that's the fun part of Christmas shopping) but he was clearly excited about it, asking me to smell the car wax we got him because it reminded him of summer, which I thought was uber cute.  Jill thought we spent too much, but I disagree.  I know hers wasn't too personal of a gift but it was all stuff she wanted, so I guess she was happy.  She likes cinnamon and gingerbread, I did manage to hear that part, so I guess I did good!  Chris and Lisa seemed to love their gifts as well.  Chris was harder to buy for than I had originally thought, but with some help from Lisa, we got the job done.  Lisa unknowingly helped me select a gift for her as well earlier this year by posting a link on Facebook to a handmade bracelet she loved.  So I clicked and it was hers.   A couple of weeks ago I came across a Doctor Who cookie jar and as an afterthought picked it up for the two fans.  They completely dug it, which I was totally happy about.  Felix didn't give a shit about anything we got him, slept through the whole thing, little ingrate.  :)  But I know his parents liked it, so that's all that mattered.  I very much enjoy watching people open the gifts I put a lot of effort into and it's so much more enjoyable when they genuinely like them.  So Christmas success!!

Eric and I  The boys got new Xbox controllers in their loot, so we they were happy about that!  And we got some moolah to put towards our new flat screen TV that's sitting promptly in our radar. 

For some reason, no one took any pictures of Eric.  We clearly need to try harder next year.

Xbox Beauties

For the past year, maybe less, I've decided to be a good girlfriend and take up one of Eric's interests-video games.  Most importantly first person shooter games.  I tried to be my typical stubborn self and buck the system, but finally I caved.  It was important to him.  So now, I'm a COD whore.  I like shooting other dudes/zombies.  I love always having the most head shots.

So recently Eric decided to get a Family Plan Xbox Live account so I'd be able to log in and have my own user name and no longer just be an entity of him-Johny Cobra Guest.  So my gamer tag is MissyAggrav8ion and I got to play around and create my own avatar.  Which I think, frankly, is a pretty amazing replica of the real me!  Eric's didn't look anything close to him so I made him change it.  Of course they don't give you the option of big ears, so I think in real life Eric should shrink his down.... But it's still pretty close to what he would look like without stretched ears.  We're such a cute computer generated couple don't ya think???

My boyfriend is a model!

Last weekend after the wedding, Syx and Taryn decided to venture up to the Falls for a sort of 'honeymoon' night at the Hilton.  The following night we were all supposed to make the trek to Hamilton to go to the Kicking the Christ out of Kristmas Klopeks show.  Unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans and she decided to shit  snow all over our parade.  Syx and Taryn thought it best not to try to venture onward to Leamington and they stayed here for the night. 

Syx is a photographer and so the following morning while I was at work they did a makeshift modeling session.  And while I know it would be tres awkward I'm kind of jealous I wasn't here.  While I don't think I'd enjoy the actual process of getting my photograph taken, it would be nice to have some pretty cool pictures taken by someone with a whole lot of talent.  Eric said he felt weird and silly but I think the pictures turned out really decent.  He's a picky pants, but I like them.  Too bad they were taken in his messy office.

I'm not sure which one I like best, but I think all three turned out nice.  My boyfriend, the model!!

Short and Sweet

Merry Christmas to all.  I wish you all a wonderful time with your loved ones throughout this holiday season.  Treasure those you love and hold them close.  Cherish the moments you spend with them even during these hectic times.  And take a few moments to yourself.  You deserve it! 

Merry Ho Ho!

My Grandma and I have an interesting relationship...In my eyes, she's not a warm, fuzzy grandma.  I do have some fond memories of her over the years, but I also have some not so fond memories.  Our personalities clashed throughout my life and sometimes I harbour resentment towards her.  However that being said, she's still my grandma and regardless if I agree or disagree (usually the latter) with her train of thought or behaviours I do love her. 

Two weekends ago I drove 4 hours to attend her 90th birthday party with both kids in tow, much to my chagrin. I'll admit I did try to get out of it seeing as I had to make that trip again the following weekend for a wedding.  My mom was successful in guilting me into going and rightfully so.  When I got there on the Friday all I wanted to do was go visit my Uncle Larry in the hospital, but nope, I went with my mom and aunt to prepare food for this soiree for 5 hours.  Yup, fun to the extreme!  Then the following day we loaded up vehicles, mine included and made the 45 minute trek to the party to help set up chairs, tables, food, etc.  And you know what?  She totally appreciated it.  The boys and I even stopped to see her following the party before we left town.  All was well. 

On Monday I got the following Christmas card from her.  I found humour yet pain in it.  No not really.  I just rolled my eyes and laughed.  She is 90 after all.  I just love how even if she means to or not, she puts me right back in the place she usually holds just for me, the back of her mind. 

Dear Holly & Sons (she usually writes their names)

Love Aunt Eva (she's been my grandma for 36+ years)

I know I saw you recently but thought I'd send anyway. (oh you shouldn't have)

Sassy fishies!

I haven't had a chance to upload my pictures from Saturday night's fun times so I'm stealing this one from Taryn to hold you over.  (Cause I know you are all on the edges of your seats waiting). 

We're doing sassy faces or fishy faces, depending on which part of the country you live in.  When I moved back from BC when I was nine, the word to use when something was crazy awesome was "deadly".  I was an outcast because in Niagara Falls, the word to use was not deadly, but "wicked".  So, you say fishy faces, I say sassy faces.  Either way, it's fun to make faces in front of a camera. 

Warm Snow

It's a week before Christmas.  Less than actually.  I'm sitting in my office at work and I feel like I've been caught up in a snow globe that some fascinated child has just discovered.  It's snowing out.  It is the perfect Christmas day kind of snow.  Big fluffy flakes coming at us in all directions.  I tried to take a picture of it but the photo does it no justice. 

 And by the time I finished uploading the pictures, the snow has completely ceased to exist.  It is now clear as a bell.  So strange.  I'm not a big fan of snow.  Frankly, winter is the most dreaded time of year for me.  But big fluffy snow falls when I'm not having to be out in it give me a warm feeling deep in my core.  But that feeling is gone now. It only lasts for a moment.  Now it's just overcast and grey with snow to be shovelled and I'm at work when I'd rather be at home in front of my fireplace with my pyjamas on. 

Edit:  It's now 4 p.m. and it's snowing like a bitch again.  This time I don't find it warm and endearing as I must trek out into it and make my way home shortly.  I hate driving in fluffy-lovely-to-look-at-but-not-drive-in snow.

Weddings!!

This weekend I'm heading back down to the Windsor area for a wedding reception for two friends, Syx and Taryn.  This party should be much more lively than the party of last weekend.  Josh, Chantale, Orbax and Eric will be joining me for some heavy drinking and good times. 

The wedding was held this past summer in Vancouver and while both Eric and I really wanted to use it as an excuse to head out west for a visit, we just couldn't financially swing it with Disney and all so close behind it.  Since Syx is from Ontario they thought it condusive to have a reception back here as well for those of us who were too poor to make the trip in August. 

Photo courtesy of lindsaysdiet.com

I'm looking forward to a great night with friends, food, booze and a cheap motel.  I've got the camera battery charging and my dancing shoes all polished up.

Lost

Last night while Roan was having a bath, I sat in there with him and we read stories.  Well actually he read stories to me.  His reading is so much more fluent now.  He doesn't seem to just be reading words anymore but actual sentences.  Reading is extremely important to me.  It's a time when I can get lost somewhere other than my own head.  I really wish my children had the passion for reading that I have (and had as a child/teenager). 

I've been a reader my whole life (from what I can remember anyway).  Both my mother and father encouraged it, and are active readers themselves.  I learned pretty quickly that there was something magical in books and stories.  The words in a book could conjure up fantastic worlds in my mind.  They could take me to places I'd never been or will maybe never get to visit.  I've figured out that I picked up most of what I know about grammar and spelling from the books I read and not so much from the actual classes and lessons I was supposed to learn them from. 

Reading has taught me that maybe I'll never hunt another human being through a jungle, or become part of my psychiatrist's family or be a UFC fighter, but I don't have to...  The world is a mighty big place, I can't expect to do or be everything.  Life is bigger than any one person.  But, when I read about other people's lives and I read their stories, I can actually catch a glimpse of a world much bigger than my own.  I have been blessed to do some traveling in my life but I know if I read great stories I'll eventually get to see the entire world.

It's also taken me 36 years to realize and understand that I can find the world in my own story too.  I just have to keep my eyes open.  And through my blog, I can tell my story for other's to read.  Maybe one day, my kids!  They'll have a better idea of who their mother is and was as she trekked through life.  

GSP!! GSP!!!

Nothing is sweeter to me right now than a French Canadian!  I've looked forward to nothing more these past three months or so than George St. Pierre putting Josh Koscheck in his place.  Josh has been juvenile, rude, immature, disrespectful, and arrogant.  I know he says he did it to hype the fight, but he was rude right out of the gates during the Ultimate Fighter tv show.  I have so much respect for George for remaining silent and just smiling at all of Josh's stupid comments.

He said he'd respond to all of Josh's comments in the ring and he did just that.  I wish he had knocked the living shit out of him, but watching him go 5 rounds and instilling pain on Josh makes me just as content.  He is a man of pure class and honour and he has so much talent in the ring, he could put most of these fighters to shame.  In the end, it looks like George punched some class back into Josh because he seemed to be a humbled loser.  Or maybe he thought he better appear gracious or he'd never get out of Montreal alive.  Either way, the end result was what I was looking for.  Josh to walk out of the ring without the belt and his tail between his legs.

Arid Extra Dry

Monday we will have no water at work.  All day.  No water at all.  Is this enough to warrant shutting the building down and going home?  I think I believe it could be.... I'm going to need to create a pee break schedule so we will all have adequate time to leave the building, drive out of the neighbourhood and find a washroom.

9 vs. 90

This weekend the boys and I headed down with my parents on Friday to Windsor/Leamington to mainly celebrate my maternal Grandmother's 90th birthday.  We headed out Friday with the intention to stop in Windsor to visit my Uncle Larry who is in the hospital (per my last post) but because we stopped for food en route we were a little later arriving than we had originally planned.  And some how I got roped into immediately going with my mom and aunt to prepare food for the birthday party on Saturday...Five hours later...we headed over to visit Uncle Larry, who looked so much better than I was anticipating.  So I felt at ease following our hour long visit.  My aunt wasn't there, but I did get to speak with her on the phone and tell her I loved her. 

The next day was busy loading cars, getting the boys dressed and ready and heading into Leamington to set up the party room.  Roan (who is 9) was super stoked to be going to this party.  I'm not sure he fully understood that 90 year olds don't party like 9 year olds, but he seemed to enjoy himself with my cousins kids for the afternoon so that's all that mattered to him.  It was nice to see some of my mom's family (we don't often see them) again and catch up with them for the afternoon.

My Grandmother was in a lovely mood which was quite pleasant.  Don't get me wrong, my grandmother is a genuinely nice person.  She and I though don't have the most endearing relationship.  I'm a strong personality and she was raised to not be that way.  So we've clashed many many times throughout my life.  I have difficulty spending long periods of time with her.  My patience are limited and I'm easily frustrated.  Thankfully her hearing isn't strong.  haha  She has a tendency to be uber negative and non appreciative.  She has a habit of treating myself (and frankly everyone else, including my mother) like I'm a 5 year old.  So over the years I just find it easier to limit the time I spend with her.  However, all that being said she was so, so genuinely appreciative of all of the hard work everyone did to make this party happen and she was so pleased and proud that her family were all there.

Ninety years....I can't even imagine.  She's been blessed over all with decent health through the years and a good life.  She's still living relatively independently (in a retirement home, but not a nursing home), is still driving (though she's giving that up in February) and still has her lifelong best friend in her life.  My grandfather passed away over 5 years ago, so she finds time long without him but aside from that she's done well and is still doing well considering she's NINETY!

 At 19.

At 89.

Happy Birthday Grandma!  I hope you enjoyed your party.  You have earned it and deserve it.

Bummed

So this week, as it turns out, has been a more trying week for other members of my family than I thought it had been for me.  My dad is one of 9 kids.  So it goes without saying that I have 8 aunts/uncles, who all happen to have spouses and children, so that means I have a very big family.  Through the years they've had their moments with each other that all families do, and a large one like ours would never go unscathed.  But the 'wiggles' all seem to work themselves out and despite living 3 1/2 hours away from a lot of them we are a pretty close family overall.  The original 9 all have each others back, without any doubt.  They support each other, laugh together, cry together, bitch together, party together, mourn together and just overall share in each others lives even if it's only from a distance. 

Being it's such a large family it's a blessing to know that we've suffered no real tragedies or losses through the years that weren't expected (with the exception of my grandfather, but he passed away before I was born, so I don't count that).  No premature deaths (aside from the most recent mention), no major debilitating accidents, no permanent injuries, no jail sentences (whilst in the family anyway, that counts right?), no suicides...all the things that statistics say should have occurred within the mass number that is my family.  We've experienced job loss, drug addiction, alcoholism, homosexuality (of which I don't deem should be in this category, but unfortunately it is a statistic), chronic illness, divorce... so we've not gone untouched.  Overall though, we are a lucky group. 

I know as I age, that means that my dad and his siblings age as well.  And being in the line of work that I am, I'm also aware of what that eventually leads to.  So with that being said it's never a good feeling to hear about someone you love sick and not bouncing back quite as quickly.

My Uncle Larry married into this wacky family having grown up across the street from the lot of them in his youth.  He married my Aunt Nadine, the oldest of the 9 and he fathered three of my most favourite cousins; Alison, Marc and Tara.  He is an extraordinary man with patience of a saint.  He has the most generous heart ever.  He's smart and he's funny.  He's tolerant.  He's a hard worker who has provided for his family.  He's easy to talk to.  He's approachable.  And he's got a great smile.  I love my Uncle Larry and I'm pretty sure that my family would not feel complete without him being around.  He's just always been here.  He's been in the hospital fighting a harder fight against a chronic illness that's plagued him for years.  His meds are no longer responding and they are trying to figure out what the next step is.  He's had some complications while they sort this out and has had to remain in the hospital for the past week.

I'm heading down to Windsor on Friday and I very much have a need to go see him.  I'm not sure why, but it's important to me.  I have every hope and belief that he'll be going home but I just want to give him a hug. Make sure he knows I love him.  And that's all.  Just a hug.  I want to hug my Aunt Nadine too.  She's probably freaking out and scared and feeling helpless.  I'm sure I'd be feeling the exact same way after 40 years of marriage and a lifetime of friendship.

Get well soon Uncle Larry, we need you around for many more years and memories! 

Too Heavy

My blog has been just too heavy lately.  So here is some sunshine, rainbows and lollipops to lighten it up a bit. 

I picked this one especially for Roan.

 A Double Rainbow to boot!

Many choices of yummy goodness. 

Missy Aggravation is one aggravated missy.

I think I need to make a statement about my blog.  It's just that.  MY blog.  It's a place for me to say what's on my mind, say how I feel, write out stories about what's happening in my life, post pictures of things that happen to me or those I care about... 

I'm going to continue to do all of those things and I shouldn't be made to feel like I have to censor what I write for fear of people, who choose to read my blogs, going behind my back and twisting it all around.  I'm entitled to say what I want about how I feel.  Period.

On the other hand, the things I write on my blog are again MY opinions and no one elses.  Maybe they are right, maybe they are wrong, maybe they are misconstrued but I have a right to my own feelings.  Just because I write something doesn't mean it's set in stone, it means that is MY take on the situation.  Good or bad. 

It's cathartic for me to write about stuff so I don't let it fester inside of me and create turmoil which will result in me losing my mind and freaking out over what are small things that would in other ways just add up and cause me to blow up.  So continue to read it if you will, but I'd appreciate it if you refrained from running and 'tattling' or frankly, a better idea, write about it in your own blog and stop creating drama and shit where I went out of my way to avoid the drama and shit by NOT bringing up my feelings in the first place and just writing about them.

So to the pot stirrer, I write: 
I could venture off into a long diatribe about the dynamics and past experiences in my relationship with my ex and maybe that would give you a better insight as to the extent of my frustrations or maybe it wouldn't because you haven't walked in the same shoes with him that I have.  He's a good person (I'll give him that), he's a great friend, but I've dealt with a lot more personal disappointments as a result of his actions (as I'm sure he has with me as well) than him just not 'being able to help me move one weekend or bailing on a fun night out'.  So until you truly know the WHOLE story, sorid details and all, you don't get to make a judgement.  He and I have a much deeper history and your opinion will not change my opinion.  All you have done is caused stress for him, so what a wonderful friend you must be.   Good job!

Aggravated!

So while I'm still disappointed in the behaviour of my thirteen year old lately, the disappointment towards his father has trumped it.  I know Gage is 13, he's growing and learning right from wrong as he works his way through life.   I'll get passed this provided he learns from his mistakes and becomes a better person. 

His father, on the other hand, is 37 years old and I'm not sure he isn't just a bigger version of a 13 year old.  Maybe he is too proud to teach his son a very valuable lesson when one is needed, I'm not sure about his ideas behind his decisions and I don't think he's teaching the boys anything good with this decision.  I feel like it's an up hill battle.  I know my kids are good kids and I know they will make mistakes through out life and I know they will do wonderful things as well.  But I can't help but feel like I'm swimming against the current on most things.  It's only fair to keep their dad in the loop, but it sometimes leaves me frustrated.

I know when I had children with him I signed on for a lifelong tie to him.  More frustrating when he's the very first person in line bashing my parenting skills.  And I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I'm a damn good mom and being as removed from my parenting as he is gives him no right to even remotely critique my abilities.  I try to remain sane and civil by reminding myself that he didn't really have a true father figure growing up, so he has nothing to model himself after.  And when he finally did meet his real dad well, they are more friends (of course, they're adults, that goes without saying).  He models his relationship with the boys after him and his father (or what he wanted from a father growing up).  His real father who was never there to go through the shit with him, discipline him, set rules for him, etc.  Right now, he needs to know he can't be their best friend AND their dad.

**Because someone has read this blog and misconstrued it and ran immediately to my ex to inform him I would like to clarify that these are my feelings about the subject.  This does not imply that my ex isn't a part of the boys lives.  Quite the contrary.  If he wasn't involved I wouldn't have been faced with these frustrations.  I am completely aware that I will never get through this life without having the odd frustration with my ex and he with me.  It's just not sane to even think that way.  But he loves his kids and that has never been a debate.  I'm just hoping as they get into their formative years that he'll realize when it's appropriate to step in as the father and not as their friend.  I don't like feeling like I'm always the disciplinary or hard ass. This should be a two way street.  Again, this blog was about MY frustration and how I saw things.

Sad Mamma

Sometimes being a mom isn't all it's cracked up to be. 

It's ironic that I spent the morning cleaning my desk and came across papers on how to parent a teenager and what not and while I was reading through some of the things a typical 13 year old puts his parents through I genuinely thought I was pretty lucky.  Then I got the phone call.  Sigh, the fourth most dreaded phone call one can receive about her child.  A call from the school/teacher. 

I thought I have been raising a better person than he's apparantly been lately.  This is probably the most disappointed I've ever been in him.  I know it's early, he's only 13, and that there will probably be many more times ahead of me, but it sucks to learn that your kid has the capability of being a shmuck.  I know he's better than this. 

He's got some hard core punishment coming his way.  I guess I want to believe that because he's still young, I can mold him into the character I'd like him to grow into.