The Other F Word

Eric and I watched a documentary the other night called "The Other F Word", and it's about old punkers we grew up listening to who are now Fathers (spoiler alert, that's the other F word).  It was genuinely endearing and I would highly recommend a watching.  But in an interview with Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers he made a comment (which also made him cry, d'aw) that kind of blew my mind (it doesn't take much, seriously).  He said (and I'm ad libbing as I'm doing it from memory), 'There's a saying that parents often yell at/to their children along the lines of "I gave you life...blah, blah, blah".  But I feel quite the opposite.  My kids gave me life.  Without them I am nothing.'  Whoa.  Who knew Flea was such a softy? 

Seriously though, I'm notorious for preaching to people the importance of picking your battles, thus treating your kids the way you, yourself, want and expect to be treated.  I think it's easier to tear a child down than to build them up.  And as humans we tend to resort to the easiest route.  I'm doing my damnedest to try to build my kids up.  Sometimes at the chagrin of other adults around me, but whatever, they're my kids and I need to be able to sleep at night knowing I've treated them well.  Don't get me wrong if they need a proper tearing down, I'll be the first one leading the troops in to do just that.  I just think sometimes parents take their kids for granted and that makes me sad.  So it was super nice to hear Flea sum up his feelings the way he did.  I feel the same.  My kids are my everything even if they don't always believe it.

A Day at the Range

I've honestly never had much of an opinion on guns and all the negative social stigmas of them or the positive attributes either.  I never grew up around them nor was I close to anyone who was a staunch believer of either argument regarding the right to bare arms.  I don't have one in my house and I doubt I ever will (I guess that's an invitation to anyone to safely break into my home), but I don't really believe that guns are the root of all evil (kind of like Pit Bulls and their bad owners argument if you will).  I allowed my children to play with toy guns (much to my mother's chagrin) and I even play Call of Duty with them.  I'll admit, I thoroughly enjoy shooting Nazi Zombies in the head (I'm quite good at the head shots, I tell ya!).  All that being said it never crossed my mind that I might enjoy shooting a real gun.  I might really like the heavy weight of the cool metal in my hand (as opposed to the curved plastic of a PS3 controller) and the power of the recoil as I put pressure on the trigger...

But, about a year ago my sister in law, Anita tweaked my curiosity when she spent an open evening at the gun range shooting at targets.  Now that the possibility and idea had been presented to me, in a round about way, I was intrigued.  So, I looked quite seriously into doing it with Eric and my boys, but there were two strikes against me;  no one under 14 was permitted to shoot a gun and Eric got switched to afternoons and then midnights.  I was in the process of trying to sort out how to take Gage and not Roan when Eric's shifts went all wonky so the problem was somewhat solved.  We wouldn't be going. 

Fast forward to the end of November this past year and me opening my email to find a Groupon sitting there that finally caught my eye.  A $100 lesson/gun shooting package for 40 bucks at Silverdale Gun Club!  I immediately sought out more information and found out that Roan would be allowed to shoot the guns provided an adult was with him.  So I bought 4 packages for Christmas gifts and immediately booked it so we wouldn't be waiting too long to get out to the range.

The day arrived following a blustery, cold week and both Eric and Gage woke up with flu-like symptoms.  Grrrr-ate!  So bitchy Holly kicked into high gear and forced those two Donald-downers into winter clothes, then the van and drugged them each enough to put a goddamn smile on their faces for a few hours.  I was hoping the guns in hand would help them forget their woe's.

I've never held a real gun in my hand let alone a loaded gun that I was going to actually fire.  I'm going to admit, it was pretty empowering.  Included in the package was 200 rounds of ammunition each and the opportunity to shoot a couple 22 caliber Smith &Wessons, a 9mm Glock and a rifle.  Thankfully with the sun out, the day didn't seem so cold.  I had a blast (pun kind of intended, and so did all three of the boys!).

I know there's a lot of controversy around guns and exposing them to kids and what not, but that's not what this post is about.  The idea behind this day was about doing something we've never done before as a family unit and most importantly, something the boys would WANT to do.  The instructor was awesome.  He was personable, extremely knowledged and strict when it came to gun safety and both boys followed his instructions to a tee.  We all had a really good time together and we created memories with each other, so please save the lectures about guns and kids.  We really enjoyed ourselves and took lots of video and pictures.  All of the staff we encountered that day were really friendly and helpful and they let the boys keeps some shells and our targets at the end of the day. 

Roan was intimidated by the Glock 9 mm because of it's strong 'recoil' but I think it was a fan favourite for the rest of us.  Roan loved shooting the rifle with the scope.  I think if we had allowed him he would have only shot that particular gun over and over.  At the end of the day, Roan had completely decimated the bulls eye of his target from the sniper rifle.  There wasn't a piece of paper left in it.  The rest of us laid a beating on the centre circle of our own targets as well. 

 

 

This was definitely something all four of us would like to do again and it was well worth braving the cold day and looking past stomach and head aches for a couple of hours.  Despite the bitter temperatures the memories leave a warm spot in my heart.  I know it's silly as they were guns, but the smiles on all our faces were priceless and my kids will always remember doing something they think is cool, like shooting guns, with us (innocently). 

 



   

In Theatres Everywhere...Tomorrow, I swear!

Phew!  I'm exhausted.  Aside from being fairly busy at work, I haven't found much reprieve even when I'm able to steal away home.  I'm beginning to see a pattern forming that commences approximately a week and a half prior to Gage's exams starting... The onslaught of late assignments that need to be completed and submitted before the exam in order for Gage to pass his course.  Sigh...I want to get so mad, but I'm pretty confident I did the exact same thing during my go around. 

So this past week (on top of work and still being sick) I've we've managed to complete the writing of a myth, the filming of a trailer for said myth, reading a book "The First Stone", completing comprehensive readers notes for said book on Characters, Plot, Setting, Archetypes, and Themes, writing a Critical Essay on the story, doing an essay on why Julius Caesar was a great leader, and studying for the actual exam!  I wrote that I've completed these things and then scratched it out because it merely feels like I completed all these things alone, but that's not true.  Gage and I spent a lot of quality time together this week and Gage and Eric actually worked on the video/movie trailer.  I can assure you all that if Eric didn't exist in our lives, Gage would be getting a zero on that component. 

We figured to do a tongue in cheek myth about why Gage struggles to hand his assignments in on time or at all.  Since he's probably such a frustration to his teacher he might as well make her laugh.  We pooled all of our ideas and came up with a mythological beast that closely resembles an Xbox but eats homework, takes over Gage's motivation and has an uncanny knack for stealing his writing instruments and replacing them with an Xbox controller.  The Procrastasaurus or something like that.   The clip below is the trailer about his myth that he handed in.  No clue what kind of grade he got on it but it sure made me laugh.  Especially the part at the end about it's arrival in theatres...Tomorrow, I swear.  Infamous last words his poor saint of a teacher has heard more often than not this past semester. 



There was a moment of hope this week though when Gage proposed the idea of doing his homework when it's assigned to him.  I've reassured him numerous times that we'd always be willing to help him but it would take way less time than 6 hours a night if we did it right away, or at least started it early.  He came up with the idea all on his own!  And he has figured out that Grades 11 and 12 are going to have strong impacts on his ability to get into a college.  It's so frustrating because based on the assignments and tests he did hand in and do his grade without trying would have been mid to high 70's.  With all his missing assignments he was sitting at a 39.  Completely uncalled for.  Sigh...here's hoping he's starting to mature and figure some of this stuff out.  Let's see if he follows through with this idea next semester.  I think I might have made it a little easier for him to stick to his plans by pulling in the reigns on his freedom and how much of it he has this coming term. 

I like spending time with my kid and all, but come on! 

Seeking Something Beyond

So the opportunity has finally fallen into my lap where I'll get the chance to sit in front of a psychic medium and see what all this hooplah is about.  The idea of psychics and mediums intrigues me but of course being a 'science girl by nature' I'm skeptical.  I want, I want, I want so badly to believe in the after life so I'm a little nervous that this meeting isn't going to give me the results I'm so desperately longing for. 

Of course it should go without saying that I'm hoping my father will make an appearance but it would also be pretty cool if one of my best friend's Andrew did as well.  I guess I'm just hoping this medium blows me away with a whole lot of gasps and oohs and ahs and "how'd he know that?'s".  I worry that I'm putting too much stock into this and I'm just going to walk away $60.00 poorer and more disappointed.  I'm worried that my hopes will be dashed. 

The negative Nellie in me is suggesting that I go in with zero expectations that way I'll either walk out smug and arrogant saying, "Ya, I knew nothing would come of it." or I'll be mindfucked (which would be crazy awesome).  I'll keep you posted! 

Have you gone to a psychic or medium and gotten good results? 

Gazing Garden Globes

I've been sitting on a couple bowling balls for just under a year now with the intent that I was going to paint them to look like bugs for my garden.  Haven't come close to getting there though.  I also stumbled across a huge bag of flat glass beads at a garage sale for like two bucks or something so I grabbed them (knowing I'd find a use down the road).   In due time all things became clear to me and the idea of a homemade "gazing ball" was formed in my head. 

So a couple weeks ago, after Roan was done being "SO angry" with me for dumping his Lego into his toybox, he and I got down to brass tacks (well glass beads rather) and went to work making a gazing ball for Grandma for Christmas (He'd already made her a 'touchy' card and this was to go with it.)  Whether it will weather the weather remains to be seen (since it's currently 1 degree with a foot of snow on the ground, we shall not be able to test out its durability until May or so.)  

Here's what we used (though the glue may have been the wrong choice, only time will tell.  It was fun making it though.)

Bowling ball
Hot glue gun and lots of glue sticks
Flat bottom glass beads (multi-coloured would be fun but use what you have)

Then I think it's pretty obvious what you do next right?  But if it isn't, you basically put some hot glue (not too much!) on the flat part of the bead and then you secure it to the surface of the ball.  Simple is as simple does.  Don't make it harder than it is.   Continue to do this until all the surface is covered and PRESTO!  You have a homemade 'gazing ball' or at best, a heavy lawn ornament that will blind you when the sun reflects off of a bead right into your eyeball. 

Sorry I couldn't do a staged shot, but use your imagination will ya?  We got snow last night remember!??!  And lots of it!  Let's gaze into the ball and long for spring.  Maybe with lots of eyes looking into it we'll be able to will the snow away.  Good luck.  Ready?  Aim....stare. 

This way! No that way! Wait, over here!!

So my sister in law made me this f*cking (yes it actually deserves the prefix f*cking 'cause that's how awesome it is!) spectacular Christmas present!  It's a directional sign for my yard and I wouldn't mind going to all the places she thought to include.  She knows me so well.  D'awwwww!!!!! 

Diagon Alley?  Be careful, there are some sketchy wizards lurking around.
Tardis Boarding?  Where will we end up?
How's about heading over to visit Sherlock Holmes on Baker Street?

Wanna play some Hunger Games over at District 12?  Don't die!
A trip to Castle Rock, Maine?  Be careful, nothing good ever happens in Castle Rock. 
Be careful that a house doesn't fall on you in Munchkinland!

Head on over to Hogwarts?  No worries, I'll lead the way!
How about visiting with the wizard in the Emerald City or taking a flight to Never Never Land? 

Take off for out of this world adventures to the Starfleet Academy.
Or venture off to Hobbit's Shire to see what they have in store for you. 
Or maybe a trip to the magical world of Narnia!! 

I'll likely just end up running in circles in my yard because I can't make up my mind!  So many great options.  This is seriously an amazing gift!!!!

Eric thought of incorporating it into the fence we are building this summer, but if I move, and at some point I will, I won't be able to take it with me.  That would make me a sad girl.  So I'll have to give it some thought on placement for the most optimal exposure to the masses. 

Roanisms at Christmas

So on Christmas Eve night around 11 p.m. Eric and I brought Roan's "Santa" loot downstairs and placed it out in the living room so we could get some sleep before he woke us up at the crack of dawn to open gifts. 
At some point between midnight and 1 a.m. I heard the pitter patter of little feet and thought at first it might just be the cats.  After a period of time I emerged from my bed to find an 11 year old laying in the hallway with one of the cats.  I instructed him he needed to get to bed.  After trying to convince me that there was just no point as he was too excited and couldn't sleep he conceded and headed to his room. 

At 4 a.m. I awoke to a quiet singing by said 11 year old.  So after wandering downstairs and meeting up with him in the hallway I told him (albeit through grinding teeth) to get his ass in bed as it was only 4 a.m. and no one was ready to get up yet (oh I'm so foolish). 

An hour passes and again I hear the soft singing from downstairs.  This time I was too exhausted to care so I left him to his own devices.  Not sure what he was doing. 

At 8 a.m. I awoke and went venturing through the house.  Roan was passed out cold on his bed and only silence emerged from Gage's nook.  I wandered into the living room to find that maybe there was in fact a Santy Claus as ALL of the Halo lego we had put out at 11 p.m. the eve before had been opened and completely put together.  And the most magical part of all?  The garbage and packaging were no where to be found, cleaned right up!!  Looks like my little 11 year old had a full night of building Legos. 

I actually had to go wake up Eric so he could see what Roan had been up to all night before the actual little labourer woke up.  Thanks for the early morning chuckles Roan. 

My Thoughts

I am saddened by many events that have happened in this world, with the most recent being the obvious shooting in Connecticut.  I'm feeling an overwhelming sense of helplessness and melancholy about them all.  I don't see anything in the near future that's going to be done to change what's happening in the world.   And I'm not sure anything can be done to ensure this sort of thing doesn't happen again.

First and foremost my heart breaks for the parents and families of all the victims.  I know when I send Roan off to school each day that the farthest fear in my mind is that someone will shoot up his school.  I suppose it always lingers in the back of my mind about Gage, but that's to be expected right?  I mean we hear about teen aged angst all the time and unfortunately that angst sometimes leads to school shootings.  But never an elementary school.  Roan is supposed to be safe for another 2 1/2 years right???  I also know like most parents that not every day before school goes swimmingly.  Sometimes I yell at Roan and we both leave the house mad at each other because things didn't go smoothly while he was getting ready for school and I for work.  My  heart breaks for that mom who dropped her kid off at school that fateful morning frustrated and angry because he didn't do all the stuff he was supposed to do in the allotted time period.  The extra turmoil she must be feeling.... So that's kind of where I'm stuck mainly.  Focusing on my own flaws as a parent and my reactions to a little person when he strays from MY norm.    

I'm frustrated with the system.  And that's quite ironic for me to say because I don't really understand the system.  But I genuinely believe the system can't fix all this.  No matter what everyone and their brother suggests, I just don't see a government being able to repair this and stop it from ever happening again.  Or maybe I'm just so cynical about the system that I figure they won't even try. 

But my frustrations lie mainly with the media.  I have a harder time each day believing anything I read or see on the news.  I feel like the media is corrupting us all.  They sensationalize all this shitty stuff and give fucked up people something to strive to surpass-almost like the Guinness Book of World Records.    All they seem to focus on is the killer, their message and their motive.  No one ever remembers the names of the victims.  So if someone has ever felt alone in this world, invisible to everyone else what better way to become popular and well known than to do something so catastrophic that his name is front and centre in every one's minds?  It's pretty clear that if he just killed himself in the confines of his own home the media would never report that. He would have still died alone-a sad nobody who is still unknown to most.   By doing something so horrific he will be infamous for generations to come.  He will have made history books.   I'm frustrated that particularly in this situation that took place a few days ago there is no known motive or reason (yet) behind the actions of this disturbed man but the media has taken it upon themselves to educate all of us loyal readers and listeners and label him with Asperger's (a form of Autism), a nerd, a genius, a loner, and a sufferer of a personality disorder.  All things that add up to CRAZY, am I right?  So frustrating.  

And while I'm on the subject of frustrating I have seen numerous people post a list of all the victims names on the internet in the hopes of remembering at least one of them instead of just the killer's name.  Novel and admiral idea, but how come this guys mother's name isn't on that list??  She was off'd by her son but because he was her son clearly she's not a victim like the other's?  Maybe she tried desperately to stop him that morning and lost.  What's become of our society when we are held responsible for the shitty actions of our adult children?  As parents (just like the ones who lost their children this week) all we can do is hope we raise our kids to be good people.  It's our job to give them emotional support when they need it but we're not all perfect and sometimes the mentally ill have a really decent way of hiding it from those closest to them.  Why is she automatically lumped in with the evil that this man did?  Or his father and brother for that matter?  And don't tell me it's because she was the legal owner of those guns.  I don't buy it.  She didn't buy those guns with the intent for him to use them on a Grade 1 classroom full of kids.  And can I add, she LEGALLY owned them?  What is wrong with us as a society that we are so quick to condemn an uninvolved individual for someone else's actions?  You better all look closely at your children and pray to whatever entity helps you sleep soundly at night that your own children don't do something as repulsive and unforgivable.  Because you too will be shunned. 

I haven't watched much of the news or read too many articles because it saddens me enough just knowing this happened.  I don't need to listen or read all the mindless bullshit that is out there.  I don't need opinions of the reporters, or hearsay from bystanders to alter my own feelings about this situation.  What I do need to do is hug my kids more, keep the lines of communication open at all times, ask the right questions, choose my battles in the morning over cereal more carefully and hope with every fibre of my being that my children don't do something that destroys another life in any way, shape or form.   And really, I think that's the only way as whole that we can diminish these sort of events from happening.  We will never be rid of them, we'd be kidding ourselves to think we could.

Dress Shirt Throw Pillows

 

 

So when my father passed away, my sister and I got nuttin'.  No, no, we're not bitter (I'm trying to convince myself of that).  Well I suppose she did get something, she got some books.  But whatever, I don't really count those.  I hold on to the fact that my boys got something special of his and I suppose that's my share in a way.  So when I stumbled on this following idea I called my mom and secretly hoped she hadn't gotten rid of any of his clothes yet.  She hadn't.  Thank goodness for grief.  Am I right?  (I'M KIDDING, JEESH!). 

So for now I've taken possession of all of my dad's dress shirts.  I've pulled two out of the bunch to convert for my own keepsies and I figure eventually I'll turn all of them (including my two) into throw pillows!!  What's that?  What it is is a brilliant idea!  I think it's pretty cool that my dad once wore my throw pillows.  Wha-what?

So here goes.  I picked up some pillow forms at a garage sale for a buck each.  So basically these pillows cost me a buck each, not a bad score.  I measured the pillow, this particular one was 16 inches x 16 inches.  So I cut my material into a 16 inch square.  I didn't add much room to spare as I wanted it to be taut and not all loosey goosey.  I decided to include the pocket.  The inspiration photo I originally came across did not include the pocket, but I think it adds character and gives the impression that it was once a dress shirt. 

Once my squares were cut out I flipped them so the outsides were facing each other and I pinned them together .  Then I ran all four sides through my sewing machine.  Upon completion of all four sides I unbuttoned the shirt and inserted the pillow form.  Then I straightened it all out and did the buttons up again.  Et VOILA!  A throw pillow reminiscent of my daddio. 

This Moment {5} - part two!

A couple summers ago I was offered an opportunity to go on a fishing charter and bring my family.  I hesitated at first because we're not really fishing people (I find it dreary and boring and plain all over dull), we're not morning people (had to be up at the crack of dawn to get on the water), Eric's a vegetarian so I didn't think he'd have any interest at all in catching fish, period), and I get motion sickness from merely sitting in the passenger seat of my car.  A few things against the idea really, but it was a lovely offer (and rude of me not to accept) and it was FREE (when something like this goes for around 4-5 hundred buckaroos)!  Plus it was something for us to do with the boys and we'd make memories right?  So I agreed. 

This was the absolute, very first time I've ever fished in my life.  Yup, I pre-judged that shit.  My boys and Eric had been fishing (off the dock of the bay style) before but never on a charter.  We headed out at 6 a.m. onto the open waters of Lake Ontario on a July morning.  Still a little chill in the air but we knew it would warm up throughout the morning.  (I'm still pretty sure that fishing dock of the bay style is dreary and dull.)

This beautiful rainbow here is my very first catch ever!  She was over 15lbs and fought me for every last second of her life.  My arms were like a tube of jello after I reeled her in.  I honestly was so close to handing the rod over to Eric to finish her off but she was just that close to my grasp.  I'm so glad I persevered and finished the task myself.  It was a great feeling (aside from the dull, throbbing ache of my arm for an hour after). 

Throughout the day we all took turns catching fish and reeling them in.  When we left the open waters and headed back to dock, about 4 hours later, we had about 20 fish.  The captain filleted them for us and bagged them up so we could take them home.  We ended up giving a lot of the fish away but we did BBQ some up for ourselves (minus Eric) and it was even tastier (I think because we worked so hard to get it).  The boys had a great day and even Eric got wrapped up in it.  We'd love the opportunity to do it again some time.  If you ever get the chance you should do a fishing charter at least once.  It was a great way to kill a morning and some fishies. 

Morning Rituals

The other morning on my way in to work I got stuck behind a school bus.   While this can normally prove annoying in my 'hurry up to get nowhere fast' life, today I didn't seem to mind.  I wasn't running late, the sun was shining, and it was a gorgeous morning. So while I was sitting behind this bus with its flashing red lights telling me to slow down once in a while, I looked over and spotted a mother (probably my age or slightly younger) and her small boy (I'm guessing 5 years old) standing on the side of the road waiting for the bus doors to swallow up her son and throw him head first into the real world.

I quietly (yup, turned the radio off) watched her let go of his hand as he made his way onto the bus.  I watched her watch him intently.  And I knew immediately when he spotted her watching him because I saw a genuine smile spread across her face and then I watched her frantically wave at him, silently encouraging him that all would be well...for today at least.  I then watched her hands fall just as quickly to her side and the smile drop off her face as she turned to face her own world. 

This 2 minute time out at the start of my day made me realize that even though I don't know this woman and maybe I don't live the same lifestyle as her (whether that be good or bad) or live in the same neighbourhood or have the same problems, we do have one thing in common.  We are moms just trying to make it through the day for the sake of our kids; be good role models, love them with our whole heart, and encourage them to grow and become independant.  So while we don't have much in common (or maybe we do), we have that.  And that's the one thing that ties all of us moms together.

So why are we so harsh and judgmental with other mothers?  We need to stop the judgment.  We all struggle.  Stay at home moms are no better than working moms.  Moms who breast feed their kids are not better at this or care more than moms who bottle feed.  Oh you use cloth diapers?  Good for you, I think you're brave.  But don't judge me because I found ease and convenience in disposables.  Every toy my children owned wasn't made of bamboo or hemp.  I'm not a bad mom because of this and it doesn't mean I don't care about the world I'm leaving to my children.  I didn't make my own babyfood even though I really wished I'd had the time, but don't judge me because you did.  My kids still had nourishment.  I probably got more sleep than you because I didn't share my bed with my kid thus I didn't have their itty, bitty, little feet jammed into my back all night but that doesn't make me a better or worse mother than you because you believe in the 'family bed'.  What's that?  That mother chews her baby's food for him?  What a nutjob.   Maybe he has a reflux disorder or maybe he just doesn't care and it's not hurting him or our own children so how is it any business of ours?  I could go on.  I feel like the minute we have our own children it's not really about offering advice and support (we cloak it with 'meaning well') it's more about judgement.  Who's better at this game?  Me?  Her? 

I watched that woman today.  She didn't know I was watching her.  She wasn't putting on airs for me.  I watched her and I knew how she felt.  I knew why she was smiling and waving.  We were united, in a sense, for a very fleeting moment in time.  I don't know her story, but I do know this:  She's a mom just like me.  And while I didn't see it in that moment I know she has difficult periods where she doubts her abilities.  She has days where she probably wishes she wasn't a mom.  She is sick with worry about what this world could do to her precious baby.  She has nights where she gets no sleep because her son was up sick with a fever all night and she doesn't need other mothers, who themselves aren't perfect, judging her because she's got a short fuse the next morning.  She judges herself enough.  We all do. 

Today I smiled at that lady, even though she didn't see me, because she did good.  She silently gave her son the push he needed to start his day off positively and she gave another mother a moment of pause, to reflect on what it is that we mothers do each and every day and the realization that we should stand united, not divided.  That kid took a big step when he got on that bus today, for all us. 

This Moment - Part two {3}





My youngest son Roan has really taken a liking to drawing.  He's quite good at it and if I could just find a way to get past the debilitating effects of A.D.D. I could get him into a class where he could really fine tune his skills and shine.  For now though I'll take every invite I get from him to draw with him. 

I used to really enjoy drawing when I was younger.  I found I struggled with what exactly to draw and I see the same thing happening to Roan.  I was never one of those people who could just draw completely from my imagination.  I always did better following off of a picture.  I was a "mimicking artist" if you will. 

This particular drawing started with Roan hanging out in my bedroom on the floor,  quietly drawing and colouring.  Eric and I were on the bed watching television.  Roan asked if I would like to join him because he was working on a collage of monsters.  I immediately said yes.  I mean, who doesn't like to colour?  My initial thought was I'd help him colour in his work and he'd keep drawing.  But I got bit by the bug and started to draw my own stuff.  As we hung out on the floor colouring and drawing Roan thought Eric might feel left out so he too was invited to join in our collaboration. 

The above is the masterpiece we ended up with.  Don't get too scared, it's just a picture, they won't actually get you. 

It's pretty cool to see yourself in your kids.  As they get older I'm seeing it more and more and it's still fascinating to me that a piece of me (many in fact) is walking around in another human being.  I hope they only get the good stuff I have to offer and not any of my flaws.  What are some of the things you enjoy doing with your kids that you also enjoyed doing as a child?  Do your kids have some of the same interests you did? 


***And on a completely unrelated note, this is my 400th post bitches!!!!  Who'd have thunk I had it in me to commit to 400 blog posts.  Not this girl.  I have a tendancy to gain interest in something quite quickly but lose it just as fast.  I see no end in sight for this blog.  Lucky you guys.  ;)  Thanks so much for reading me babble on and for leaving me comments and feed back.  It's my favourite part! 

This Moment {3}

It's Monday folks!  Here's the picture of the week. 

Running for My Life

This past weekend we (Eric, Gage, myself, my brother, sister in law, and 4 friends) had the opportunity to take part in a 5K run/obstacle course created by Run For Your Lives that included being chased by zombies.  'Cause running 5K and completing physical obstacles isn't hard enough (especially when you are in as poor shape as I am!).  After doing some research in preparation to signing up, we discovered that you could do both!  You could complete a zombie shift AND run the course as a runner!  Win-win!

The creators and volunteers put together an amazing event.  I don't know how long they've been doing these but this was the first one in Canada.  I must say it was flawless (aside from the weather which is, of course, uncontrollable).  Everything went off perfectly (except for the total collapse of the starting cages, immediately after our particular heat, from the wind - thankfully no one was seriously injured).   It was probably the best experience I've had during an event of this caliber.  Right from the parking and check in stations, to the costume department and make up tents and the actual course and obstacles - amazing.  It really was so well done.  Kudos to all involved who put this together and helped pull it off.  I really am looking forward to doing this again if they decide to bring it back our way next year. 

I was blown away with the make-up department set up.  All of the people they utilized to transform us 7 a.m. beauties into scary zombies were so talented and friendly.  The pace was quick and kept us all excited for the next things to come our way.  They had a wardrobe department, air brushing stations, prosthetic stations, blood splatter stations, liquid blood stations, mudding and blooding stations, free snacks and bottled water stations, and personal belonging check stations.  They really did think of everything (they even had a make-up removal station when we finished our shift).   We looked so good after passing through all those check points. 

Walking out to our station (we were zone 3 - a stretch of forest) amongst the trees, which made for great cover and gave that shadowy, ominous feeling just built the excitement up for us.  I located a sign nailed to a tree and jokingly said I'd hide behind the sign and jump out and scare people.  Because there really was no way they couldn't see me.   Eric stood just ahead of me on the opposite side of the path thus forcing people to run closer to the sign and low and behold the runners were so focused on Eric that when I stepped out from behind my sign I really was scaring the shit out of them.  So gooooooood!  I suffered a couple minor injuries (two of which are actually making it difficult to type):  a wrenched ring finger that is bruised and swollen when it got caught on a runner as I reached for a flag, a thumb nail that has a pool of blood under it after some asshole runner grabbed on to me and kept running (a no-no) and I got punched in the face (totally by accident, the runner even stopped to apologize).  All still worth it though. 

Following our three hour stint as zombies (which went by so quickly, I'd have been content to do it for the whole day, it was that fun!) we counted all of the lives we stole and then headed over to make up removal and received medals, free t-shirts and beer tickets!  The medals are great quality and so are the shirts, they didn't scrimp on anything here.   We then made our way to the van to change clothes and get some food before we were due to report for our own course run.  The weather was turning a little at this point and becoming cooler and much more windy.   I was dreading the race (because I hate running) but now I was looking forward to it because I knew it would warm me up. 

We made our way over to the starting cages (titled Appetizer, Entree and Dessert - the Appetizers got released first) to line up for our heat at 2 p.m.  We decided it was best for us out of shape runners to take the Dessert position so we weren't glomming up the track. The dark clouds were starting to move in on us which made it even more appropriate.  Coming around the first bend we encountered our first obstacle (mud pits 1 - Holly - 0).  Covered in mud makes you feel even heavier than you are!  Aside from zombies staggering all over the course the next obstacle we hit were  the climbing walls.  And while they don't seem that high, after running and being caked in mud it was hard to find the energy to pull myself over them.  The 3rd obstacle was a maze of darkness that took me longer to figure out than I was anticipating.  After making our way out of the maze and through another couple of hordes of zombies we entered a darkened house (through a window) full of smoke with hanging electrodes that zapped you if you hit them.  It was hard to avoid them as they were everywhere and there were zombies in the house that scared the shit out of us thus making it even harder to avoid.  We then had to climb under barbed wire (yes real barbed wire) on our bellies through the mud,  through long covered tunnels on our knees through the mud (good luck if you are claustrophobic), up a fenced wall and down a slide into a pit of cold mud and bloody water and then under an electrified fence through the mud on our bellies.  It was a messy day but so, SO much fun.

I hope the planners had a successful day and it will be worth their effort to come back again next year.  It will be super great if they add some new obstacles and remove a couple of this years.  It was fun not really knowing what we had ahead of us when we ran the race.  I remember the feeling that came over me when I turned the corner to find the three mud pits....and then the feeling of the smile creeping over my face as I embarked on my mission.  

Memories in Ink

I was cleaning out my basement a couple of weeks ago.  I was making room for a new Kijiji find and to locate stuff I no longer use so I can donate to my sister in law's garage sale to raise money for my nephews education. 

I came across an old suitcase.  One I will never use again.  I have more modern stuff, with handles and wheels to make dragging it behind me so much easier.  Not this old thing... I'll donate it to the cause.  But first I'll remove my address tag.  No one needs my home address.  But alas, it wasn't my address tag after all, it was his.  Printed in that familiar font of his.  I wish it had said Kit Rousseau, but I'll take this.  I ripped it off.  I'm gonna keep it.  I can actually visualize him filling this out, the way his left hand transferred the information from the tip of the pen to the address label.  I always loved his penmanship.  Always.

I find comfort in the familiarity of this and I relish in the unexpected findings. 
Hi dad!  I love you. 

{This Moment - Part deux}

This a pretty old picture of Gage and Roan.  If I hazzard a guess I'd say it's at least 4 years old.  Gage is probably around 11 and Roan is around 7.  The boys and I had gone to the movie theatre to see a flick, the title is lost on me at the moment.  We were early so we went to hang out in the lounge area which was unpopulated for the most part.  I read the weekly and free version of Tribute magazine (one of my most favourite parts about going to the movie theatre) and the boys killed time. 

Once I was finished with my gossip rag I pulled out the old trusty camera from my purse and forced the boys to pose for silly pictures with me.  We have a bunch of them from this photoshoot, but this one is one of my favourites because I forced them into one of those awkward photo poses that would be worthy of that infamous website.  I made Gage lie down on the bench on his belly and told Roan to climb on top and lay down.  Then I said SMILE!  This is what I got.  I was actually kind of surprised Gage didn't balk at this suggestion, but this was clearly before he got his braces that made his teeth straighter thus making him "way more cool" and thus too hip to act silly with his little brother and his mom.

I don't remember the movie at all, but I do remember the 40 minutes we killed, just the three of us, laughing and snapping silly pictures of each other. 

{This Moment}

I've borrowed (oh who am I kidding, I've stolen) an idea from Janine over at Reflections From a Redhead who borrowed it from Thom at To Gyre and Gambol, who initially borrowed it from Cath at Just My Thoughts...phew that could get long winded if someone borrows it from me and then someone borrows it from then, and so on!  Starting today I'm going to begin a Monday ritual.  One image will be posted.  No words will describe it.  It will capture a moment from my past, memories that I cherish.  Then on Friday I will post part 2 of this new ritual where I will share the story behind the photo.  This borrowed idea is called {This Moment}

 

Sketchbook Comics and Games

I have an older brother.  He's two years older than me.  He is not really anything like me.  Growing up we were extremely different, probably still are.  He was what the kids these days call a 'straight edge' which sure made things difficult for me once I hit my teens years.  I didn't have the luxury of having a older sibling break my parents in with typical teenage shenanigans.  He had his select group of friends, he liked to play fantasy games (D&D) and tinker on the computer (keep in mind most homes didn't have personal computers at this time, but my brother did and he always kept the damn thing password protected, much to my chagrin).  The one hobby or past time he partook/partakes in that could easily sum my brother up for me is comics.  He was a comic nerd in the purest definition.  They were his passion (I think).

My brother would make weekly trips to the comic store, he knew when any new editions were coming out, he categorized the comics he had and kept them in baggies with cardboard sleeves so they wouldn't bend.  We always had to be uber careful whenever we walked in his room out of fear of touching one of his precious 'booklets'.   He had favourite artists and also did his own renderings and drawings (that were pretty fantastic if I remember correctly).  He collected comic related toys and if he doesn't anymore then that's unfortunate because I keep buying him shit.  Point is, my whole life my brother has been a total comic guy.  Oh sure he has other interests, but if you asked me to think of one thing that describes my brother then I'd immediately say, 'comics'.

So it hasn't come as a huge surprise to me to find out recently that he's this close to opening the doors to his very own comic shop in the region here.  This has been an ongoing dream/goal/aspiration for years now.  He and a partner have killed many hours discussing the possibility and searching out locations.  After some failed attempts, they've finally managed to lock down a location, complete a proper business plan, get financial backing, figure out the staffing requirements, prep the store front and secure their inventory.   Maybe there's something to that saying, 'It's all about the timing.'  Maybe it just wasn't meant to be until now.  Regardless, I'm extremely proud of him and his chance to live out a dream.  I'm turning into a braggart about my brother.  He's come a long way from that annoying kid who picked on me, in more ways than just this store opening.

They've settled on the name Sketchbook Comics and will have a store in the Cats Caboose/Dollarama plaza on Glenridge Ave. in St. Catharines.  They've created a new Facebook page to introduce fellow comic nerds (don't worry, nerds are in right now) to the Niagara Region's new comic supplier.  They are also tackling an online store as well for those who aren't within driving distance.    So if you're into comics and prefer to buy that stuff from fellow comic fans then you've found your guys.  They know a lot of useless really important information about the comic world or if you just want someone to talk to about all things superhero then this will be the place for you.  And most importantly you'll be helping to fulfill a couple guys dreams. 

Congratulations to my brother, Geoff and his partner and friend Joel.  I wish you all the best in your future endeavor and hope you find great fulfillment and success.  Much love. 

Flowers for a Flower

This past week was my brother's 40th birthday and this coming week is my niece, Sawyer's 4th birthday.  So to accompany the actual presents purchased in a store, I decided to make them each a craft this year, since that seems to be my shtick lately. 

I made my brother a 'king can' version of a red neck wine glass to use at his party (for pop silly, he doesn't drink) since he was the birthday boy, but the bugger never even used it!  Thankfully his wife, Anita, discovered the cubic capacity of the glass and stole it for her beer.  My kind of girl.

For Sawyer I decided to experiment with some crayon art that I'd seen on Pinterest.  I was able to find some canvas for $2 and I got some crayons and fake flowers at the Dollarama. 

I bought four boxes of crayons, because I mainly wanted to stick to greens, yellows, blues, oranges and browns.  (I figure I'll make another crayon art using the reds, pinks, and purples down the road.)  I then took my new, handy, dandy glue gun (works like a a glue gun should which is great since it's my 3rd one) and glued the crayons to the top of the board pointing down.  I then took my hair dryer and put it on medium heat and began melting the crayons.  It takes a while, have patience.  And as note for the next time, I probably should used the diffuser attachment to help keep the hot air concentrated on certain areas.  Make sure you have some newspaper under it as the wax will run and sometimes it splattered off the canvas.  I had propped the canvas up on the back of a chair so gravity could assist me and I found that helpful as well. 

Once I got the look I was going for, I plugged my trusty glue gun back in and by the time it had heated up, the running wax had solidified in place.  I then glued some silk (I use that term loosely as they're made of polyester) flowers randomly onto the streaks thus creating a garden when you flip the canvas over and the crayons are now at the bottom. 

This craft took maybe an hour and most of that was melting the crayons.  The whole thing probably cost me 18 dollars total and I still have flowers and crayons left over for another project, so let's cut that in half shall we?  So for $10  I made Sawyer a craft from her Auntie Holly, and then I jotted a little note on the back for her.  Maybe she'll keep it around for when she's older (which would be cool) or maybe she won't.  Either way, it was a fun craft and one I'd do again.  I have something in mind already for Round 2. 

White Trashapalooza!

So it seems my brother and his wife may have inadvertently started a new trend.  This year for my brother's 40th birthday they had their 2nd annual "White Trash Party".  It's probably insulting to red necks but to 'those' people you can't really insult them so don't worry your pretty little heads over it.  I'm quite certain they'd think we did them proud.

I should have taken pictures of the house as it appeared when we drove up.  There were tacky signs about Geoff being 40 and cars parked all over the front lawn with gardening tools strategically placed, or strewn about rather.  There was a smorgasbord of food consisting of Kentucky Fried Chicken, wieners and beans, baked beans, hot dog and cheese kabobs (raw of course), jambalaya and the birthday cake made solely of Twinkies pasted together with icing.

I don't recall any spectacular decorations, aside from the bras in the tree, because everyones' outfits stole the show.  It was a musical revue for my eyes.  Aside from two people (who joined us following a legit, non-white trash party) EVERYONE showed up in costume and might I add, they totally BROUGHT it!!  Value Village must have seen a spike in their sales this past week. 

Eric and I showed up trying to go for a different trashy look this year over last and this time we brought our kidlets in tow, who also represented.  I still can't look at the pictures of Roan without laughing.  He was a great sport and even won his own 'best costume' award:  an unopened box of Twinkies.  He was quite pleased with himself and proceeded to eat the box of Twinkies for breakfast the next morning.  Nothing trashy about being a mom who allowed that, right? 

I channeled Peg Bundy, Eric channeled a cross between Ninja of Die Antwoord and Al Pacino in Taxi Driver (but for some reason I thought he still looked crazy hot), Roan channeled the stereotypical white trash boy and Gage channeled a 'wigger' teenager ( I know it's a harsh term, but it's a term none the less). 

Dawn and Anita bought their supplies at K-mart in the States (who knew that this style was back in?), my mom formulated a cross between her mother and mother in law and sported a buttload of polyester.  We weren't lacking for kindling if we needed it. 

Kind of wish we'd had it in us to take an entourage trip to Walmart.  We probably would have ended up on the People of Walmart website.  Then we'd have known we truly nailed it.