Scenes From Our House II

Talking with Wolf last night.

He mentioned that a buddy of his, and buddy’s wife were going on a business trip, and staying in a hotel overnight.

Wolf suggested that buddy send wife into the bar, and ‘pick her up’.

Now, I’ve thought of doing that, spice up the marital love life.

But, as I explained to Wolf, I just can’t trust him to behave.

He’d either sit at a table, drink beer, and wait for me to make my way over, or something equally goofy…definately not the role playing, “Pick up the woman in the bar” idea.

I don’t know what’s worse…that it occured to me that he’d be a dink, or that he burst into uncontrollable giggling and agreed.


Boo went for a check up last Monday.

Ped asks, “Is he smiling?”
Boo burst into a huge grin, and waved his fists.

Ped asks, “Is he ‘talking’ yet?”
Boo cooes at him.

Ped, smothering a grin asks, “How’s he doing w/advanced calculus?”
Boo burps and spits up.

Ped says, “That’s how I felt about it too!”

New Opportunities, Righting Old Wrongs

First of all, please forgive me for not posting in the last cpl of days.  The weather here has turned dramtically.  We finally got the snow Wolf and the kids have been begging for, but it’s been accompanied by -5 billion degrees Celcius temps, which has caused RSD to go through the roof.

Ok, so it wasn’t -5 billion, but it *was* -50C with the wind chill yesterday.  For those who use F, it translates into ‘Freakingcold’! or -58F.


Let’s talk about the ‘new opportunities’ first.

Wolf is currently on parental leave.  B/c of the RSD, we weren’t sure what kind of shape I’d be in after Boo was born, and the day to day taking care of an infant one armed is a challenge, so he’s off work for now.

While he’s off, he’s looking for another job.  He still has his job to go back to, but he’s hoping to find a better job in the meantime.

Yesterday, he applied for an amazing, incredible job.  Not only is the pay better, position higher than what he’s doing now, but it also means we’d move to a small town where the weather is much better for me, and the real estate is actually within our ability to buy.  So, we’re praying, HARD, that this opportunity comes to pass, and he gets this job.  Anyone willing to join us in this is extremely welcome and appreciated.

Now…as to the righting of old wrongs.

It’s going to take some back story, so go grab a cup of coffee, tea, what ever your preference may be, and settle in for a bit…

Way back in the 80s, the musical ‘Cats’ came out.  Theatre was something my mom and I did together, starting with going to see The King and I, starring Yul Brenner for my 12th birthday.

Mom got us tickets to Cats.  You had to purchase them months in advance, and I proceeded to drive my teacher insane with constant chatter and countdown for going to Cats.  To say I was a bit excited would be appropriate, LOL!

Then, less than a week before the performance, my mother turned to me and announced that she wasn’t taking me.  She was taking her best friend instead.  Oh, and I was going to babysit for the friend so she could go.

I was stunned.  Heartbroken.  Betrayed.

The entire ride to the friend’s house, I kept hoping and praying that it was some misguided joke, that she was going to change her mind, this wasn’t really going to happen.  She wouldn’t, couldn’t throw me over for her friend.

But she did.  Without a backwards glance or hesitation.

I can’t begin to describe the feelings of humiliation and shame when my teacher (whom I adored) came to me that Monday morning, and asked eagerly, “So?  How did you like it?  Wasn’t it AMAZING?” and I had to confess that my Mom had chosen to take her friend instead of me.

Years later, she told me that she’d been talking to her friend about the tickets, and her friend assumed that one of them were for her, and Mom just *couldn’t* figure a way out.  I pointed out simply saying, “No, I’m taking my daughter” would have worked.  But, not a surprise that she wouldn’t admit to being at fault, for making a horrid decision.  Nothing is ever her fault.


I’ve seen ‘Cats’ three times now, and every time, it’s bitter sweet, remembering what SHOULD have been.

Fast forward to a week or so ago.

Diva turned 13 back in Nov.  We wanted to do something mind blowingly special for her, but couldn’t figure out what.  Wolf suggested at the time taking her either to a concert or theatre, since, like her Mom, she’s a huge fan of such things…but there was nothing available that would work.

Then, I saw a commercial.  ‘Cats’ was coming to our city for less than a week next month.

We talked about it.  We knew it would blow Diva’s mind.  But the price of the tickets…*faint*  We’re due to get a sizable chunk of change from back taxes, and it was supposed to come in on the 20th of this month, so I figured we’d go ahead at that point.

Then, I got a letter from Revenue Canada.  Long story short, they want me to prove that a) my children exist, and have existed since 2006 to now, and b) that they’ve been in our care that entire time.  I have to get school records, letters from landlords, Drs, utility bills…I have 30 days to provide this info, and oh, by the way, no refund for you until it’s done.


So, that screws us on several levels, and we’re in the process of wading through this crud w/the assistance of our member of Parliment.  

So, Wolf and I were talking again last night.  The refund is NOT going to happen in time, there’s just no way.  Even though Diva is clueless about our planning to take her, I was disappointed.  I’d promised her a cpl of years ago that if Cats or Phantom of the Opera came to our city, we’d go.  She’s a big fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Wolf told me to go ahead and buy the tickets.  “Do it, do it NOW” was what he said.  I felt uncomfortable spending that kind of money when we don’t have it in hand, for fun, not a need.  He insisted.

So, I did.

Diva and I will be going to see ‘Cats’ in Feb.  She doesn’t know yet, we’ll be telling her later today.

And for me…I feel like an old wound is finally going to heal.  My mother hurt me…but now I’m taking my daughter to see ‘Cats’.  It’s come full circle, and I’ll be doing right by my daughter, and able to share this experience with her.

Which, of course, Wolf knew about and remembered…and why he insisted I get the tickets.

Love that man.

Geographically Challenged

Hello, my name is Imp, and I’m geographically challenged.

I am horrid at geography.  I have a complete inability to retain information when it comes to where something is located…and this shows very clearly when Wolf has requested I do real estate research.

We do NOT want to buy in our city.  We’re wanting w/in commuting distance, however.

I am NOT able to glance at a map and mentally calculate what’s in reasonable distance or not.

Wolf, on the other hand, has GPS implanted in his brain…one of those kind of ppl that make me jealous.  He can glance at a map, or name of a city and town, and *bing* recite info.  He navigated MIL across Canada when he was 10/11 yrs old.

I’m lucky I can get to the local mall, 4 blocks away.  And for the love of potato chips, do NOT ask me to direct you anywhere in the city, or even to my house.  I’ve told ppl to call back when Wolf is home.

(Did I mention that I don’t drive?  Probably more than one reason for that).

So, can someone PLEASE explain why it is that I’M the one tapped to do research on real estate listings w/in commuting distance of a major city in our province?

Wolf suggested that I’m being intellectually lazy.  He claims that since I’m “brilliant at everything else” (direct quote) geography shouldn’t be a problem, except that I’m refusing to take the time to learn.  *I* say that everyone needs a flaw, and geography is mine.

Frankly, I’m not sure if I should be delighted that he thinks I’m brilliant at everything else, or insulted over the ‘intellectually lazy’ part. 


Moments Of Awwww

My husband isn’t the romantic type.  I’ve commented to him before that any attempt on my part to be romantic is ruthlessly stomped to death.  He’ll make a joke out of it, etc.  So, after nine years together, and our 9th wedding anniversary coming up in April, I’ve given up.

His way of showing love tends to be what the Five Love Languages calls ‘Acts of Service’.  He’ll pick me up some Lindor chocolates, or bring home flowers, or go to four different stores to try and find the ‘right’ kind of ice cream.  Especially when I’m pregnant.  I never have to ask more than once, or even mention that I’m having a craving, and he’s putting his shoes on and heading out the door.  He even will ask, repeatedly, if I’m craving anything.

But every now and then…

We were running errands yesterday, and a song came on the radio.  She’s Good For Me, by Jason McCoy.

The chorus is:

She knows how to smooth my edges,
Talk me down off those ledges,
When I aint thinking straight,
Oh, she keeps the faith,
She stands up to all my demons,
Brother, she’s the only reason,
That I aint who I used to be.
Yeah, she’s good for me.

Wolf reached over, grabbed my leg, and said, “Baby, this is your song.”



And here’s the song itself…

The Chip Method, Or How I Homeschool Without Whining

School has started back today.

Christmas break is officially over.

The Littles have buckled down, working hard at the kitchen table.  Princess is already completed her math and writing.  Tazzie is working on his math, and when he’s done, they’ll be doing some phonics work together, followed by his writing excercises, then reading.

Not a word of complaint out of them.

Now, before anyone accuses me of brain washing, having aliens come down and fry their little minds, or simply having freaky little kids, let me assure you, nothing could be further from the truth.

Truth of it is, I figured out their currency, and have gotten back to implementing a strategy that’s worked well in the past.

It’s what I call The Chip Method.

See, my kids, Tazzie especially, are electronics junkies.  Be it TV, Wii, or computer, it makes their world go ’round.  Add in music for Diva.

So, I bought a package of poker chips.  And announced that there will be NO electronics at all unless chips are earned via school work, or chores…and nothing can be earned via chores until school work is completed.

White chips are worth five minutes.
Red chips are worth ten minutes.
Blue chips are worth fifteen minutes.

It works amazingly well!

They also get chips for quiet time.

I don’t know if some would consider it bribery, but it allows me to limit their electronic addiction, and reward their completion of work, with no fussing involved, no begging or bugging for electronics.

And poker chips cost me a whopping $1 at the Dollar Store.

Win win!