How Not to Spend Your Canada Day Long Weekend
by Karla ° Saturday, June 30, 2007
Because I have this annoying personality twitch that causes me to bore of stuff very easily, we are repainting the entire main floor of our house this weekend.


So far, Mark and I have only managed to get a coat of primer on the wall while Nate napped and have flung paint at each other just once in a fit of domestic rage while we blamed each other for me and my bright ideas.

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This is not a hint.
by Karla ° Thursday, June 28, 2007
“Did you change the sheets today?”

“No. Why?”

“They feel clean – did you vacuum them?”

This is from the lips of the same man whose socks I used to find in my planters back when we first moved in together. Although the sock flinging has stopped, leaving socks randomly all over the floor has not, and I’m pretty sure that he still believes there is a magical sock fairy that spends her days skipping about the house with a laundry basket in her arms in search of his fusty sock carcasses to fill it with.

If I believed in fairies, I’d say she deserves a big long back rub tonight.

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Vile Orange Food
by Karla ° Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A big heartfelt thank-you is in order to everyone who voted for my sweet baby boy in the photo contest. Unfortunately, we did not win, but that’s OK because I don't need a silly contest to know that my heart is still orbiting around his tiny little baby universe with a gravitational pull so strong that not even the might of a meteor could penetrate the silken surface of my motherly love.

Now that being said, although my affection for Nate is met with an intensity that rivals the keen eye of an eagle, and everyday I profess to him my creed of undiminished devotion, if I could grant but one wish for him today, it would be that he would skip the whole vegetable drama and just accept that fact that it is not a beastly burden to eat peas and carrots.


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Don't even get me started on the underwire bra
by Karla ° Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Last weekend we went and had our family portrait taken because of all the photo’s that I have taken of Nate, all but only a couple of them include the three of us, and in one of them my eyes are closed and the other one has a beer bottle in the background and I don’t know about you, but I’m not so keen on hanging a framed bottle of Budweiser on my wall.

Of course, as luck would have it, the night before our family portrait session was scheduled; Nate was up all night long. We thought for sure he was getting a tooth because I don’t think I have ever heard him scream for so many hours like that. Finally, after 4:00 in the morning he finally went down and I swear, just as Mark and I were coming down from the frantic all night scream fest, the alarm went off. Usually early morning is the best time of the day for Nate but after enduring a fitful night of distress, we were all drained and weary and I should have just called and cancelled the whole thing but apparently I like it when we can be all surly and crotchety together as a family and insisted we just get it over and done with.

Although we aren’t exactly a dress-up kind of family, I thought it might be nice to ditch the yoga pants for a day and wear something that at least gave the illusion of class and didn’t scream frumpy housewife. It’s not that I hate nice clothes, it’s just that after years of being pregnant and then not pregnant and then being pregnant again and then not pregnant and then pregnant again and then not pregnant, I have grown so comfortably complacent wearing stretchy yoga pants that I just don’t bother wearing much of anything else anymore because a) all of my pants were hemmed so they could be worn with heels and carrying Nate while wearing heels makes my back hurt because I am 90 and I like to complain and b) all of my dressy pants require me to wear a thong so there is no visible panty line but most days I am already dangling by the wisp of a thread trying to survive this whole mothering thing that I just sort of think if there is any extra thread laying around, it could be put to much better use than being parked between the cheeks of my ass.

But anyhow, I digress. Once we were all finally up and fed and dressed and done grumbling about wearing a thong, Nate decided to puke on me.

I swear that is the last time ever that I get out of bed for $5.88 family portrait day at Wal-Mart.

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Anticipation
by Karla ° Friday, June 22, 2007
Starting next week, Mark will be off work every Friday this summer. How fabulous is that? A long weekend, every weekend, for an entire summer. He has had a lot on his plate since he started his new job three months ago, and having this extra time away from the urban hollow that is the corporate rat race will do wonders to recharge the wind in his weary, hard working soul.

We don’t really have any big plans, but I am looking forward to our time together so I can soak in the strength of his skin and sip coffee in the violet twilight of a sinking sunset. And maybe, just maybe, we will find time to wrap ourselves in the familiar warmth of a cozy blanket and sit under a shimmering night sky on a desolate shore and listen to the waves whisper hushed lullabies about nothing and everything.

I can’t wait to for time to thread its needle in the eye of the memories that we are ready to make this summer.

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Rolling with the punches
by Karla ° Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Samson rolled in shit yesterday. IN SHIT! Like, um, HIS SHIT!

He was literally covered in his nastiness. Oh and do I even need to mention how bad he smelled?

Any neighbour that caught the circus act of me trying to wash the mucking futt outside must think I am a stark mad raving lunatic because the dog just would not cooperate and thought being all covered in his squalor was funny. He liked being chased with the hose and a bottle of sunlight dish detergent and somewhere in between shoving cookies in his mouth and watching him run in figure eights around the yard and yelling at him to stay he shook shitty bubbles all over me.

Giving up on the idea of using the backyard as a giant natury bathtub, I decided to take him upstairs to the human tub for a proper scrub down. I’m not exactly sure why I thought I would be able to lift an 80lb dog because oh my fuck, I totally I sprained my uterus.

Is there something you can take for a sprained uterus when you’re breastfeeding?

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The Routine
by Karla ° Tuesday, June 19, 2007
After I hit the publish button on yesterday's post, I suddenly realized that I had mentioned Nate was a perfect little sleeper and the last time I talked about his sleeping habits my words were more along the lines of complaining about my weary head and being up at all hours of the night.

Almost six months of not sleeping properly was more than starting to take its toll on me. As the dawn of each new day unfurled, I was slowly dissolving and becoming increasingly vacant. Not even the gentle haze of the morning sun could lift the fog from my head. I started to walk around in a constant daze of weariness and on the verge of tears.

And then I reached out to the interweb for help and many of you suggested books that have helped you immensely, so I decided to read Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child by Marc Weissbluth. I tried his advice and Nate slept through the whole night almost right away. The rest is history.

Our routine goes something like this now:

6:00 am: Nate wakes up. I nurse him on one side and pump the other side for his cereal for the day.

7:00 am: Nate and I eat breakfast.

8:00 am: Nate is usually ready for his first morning nap. I nurse him to sleep.

10:00 am: Nate wakes up. We nurse.

12:00 pm: Nate and I eat lunch.

1:00 pm: Nate starts to get tired again. The eye rubbing is a dead giveaway. I nurse him to dreamland.

3:00 pm: Nate is up and ready to tackle his afternoon, but not before he gets some boob action.

5:00 pm: Cuddle/Nursing and occasionally a quick 30 minute nap.

6:00 pm: Family dinner.

6:30 pm: Bath time.

7:00 pm: Before bedtime we snuggle and nurse.

And that is a typical day in our household.

Nate is notably different now. He isn’t as cranky. His attention span is way better. He does not get frustrated as easily as he did in life before The Routine and if it wasn’t for the birthmark on the back of his head, I swear I would have thought the storks brought me a new baby.

Before we tried this whole routine thing, Nate was going to bed at around 11:00 with Mark and me and I always thought that worked well enough because that let us get out of the house in the evenings as a family and go for a coffee or a drive or walk around the mall or whatever. And since Nate wasn’t sleeping through the night, I thought that if we put him to sleep later, he would sleep longer. But for whatever reason, that theory just did not work and he still got up during the night.

Although I suspect we are a tad lucky that our kid seems to go down for the night without much of a fuss and I can’t explain why going to bed at 7:00 pm means he is suddenly sleeping through entire night, I'm so glad we have finally found something that works so well for us.

Except for the fact that I feel like I a prisoner in my own home and still can’t cook for shit.

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Interview
by Karla ° Monday, June 18, 2007
I volunteered myself to my bloggy pal Gina for an interview and then anxiously awaited her questions because Gina is super awesome and I knew it would be fun to answer her questions.

What has been the biggest unexpected adjustment you have had to make with Nate?

I had to think about this one because my answer keeps changing. At first I thought it might be the lack of sleep, and then I thought it might be not having family around to help out, but today I think I am going to have to say the hardest adjustment has been the painfully cranky baby days I have endured before coming to the realization of the importance of a sleep schedule.

I don’t know if it’s the best kept parenting secret or if I am really that dense and it didn’t occur to me to put Nate on a schedule, but now that I know, I am sort of wishing I could turn back time and slap myself in the face for not realizing that my baby would be much happier on a schedule. The difference in his mood is like night and day and he is now sleeping up to 11 hours every night and he totally deserves a gold medal for his champion napping skills.

So you must be wondering why this is such a huge adjustment if my baby is happier and I can sleep all night long and have up to 5 hours of free time during the day when he takes his naps - I know - sounds like a dream come true doesn’t it? The truth is, I am having a hard time with being on a routine and not being able to just leave the house when my heart so desires anymore, which is what I had been doing for the past 6 months. And although structure and routine means Nate is like a new baby that rarely fusses anymore, I am feeling a bit like a prisoner in my own home now.

I guess what I am really saying is that I am having a hard time adjusting to finding a balance between meeting both Nate’s and my own needs.


1998, where were you and what were you doing?

In 1998 I was in my second year of college and for the love of doing what college kids do, I still was not of legal age to drink because I was only 18. So while the cool kids were drinking at the bars, I spent my time studying and getting on the Honour Roll and being a big brown noser and stuff, which was such a waste because once I graduated I spent all of 3 months in my field before I realized I made more money as a part time secretary. So I went back to school for computers, which was great for a couple of years and then I became a stay at home mom, which was a decision Mark and I made for our future family back in 1996 when we were dating in high school - right around the same time he dyed his blond locks black and was thinking about dropping out of school to be a rockstar.


What is the beauty product you swear by?

If I had to pick one thing that I couldn’t live without it would be proactiv. I have been using proactiv for 7 or 8 years now. I have tried everything from here to the moon and it is the only thing that keeps my skin blemish free. I use it religiously, twice a day, every day. The only time I stopped using it was during my pregnancies, and I am not exaggerating one bit when I say that the minute I stopped using it my face exploded and I wanted to spend my entire pregnancy with a pillow case over my head.

Explain the biggest differences between Americans and Canadians.

I was going to tell a funny joke about the differences between Americans and Canadians but then I realized we probably have a joke telling tax and the goverment already taxes about 60% of our money and we cannot afford to pay anymore.

So I guess the biggest difference is that our beer cases are big enough to fit your hands with mitts on so we can continue to drink beer when it snows.

Talking on the phone- big chore or pleasant pastime?

That’s a big Chore with a capital C! If you call me, you will probably get my answering machine and it takes me forever to call anyone back. Email is definitely my preferred means of communication.

Thanks for the questions Gina. Now I am going to encourage anyone reading to head over to your blog and tease you about the Ant Farm catastrophe OK?

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Hippie
by Karla ° Sunday, June 17, 2007
So while my mom’s nephew and his four year old daughter were visiting, she happened to notice a picture of my dad from his long haired hippie days.

Curious about the lustrous and flowy locks of hair on his head she pipes up and asks, “Was that picture taken when Paul was a girl?”

That sort of hilariously innocent naivety is exactly why I wanted to have kids.

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Shizzarific
by Karla ° Wednesday, June 13, 2007
You know my brother has rolled into town when Nate starts looking like a hip hop hooligan.

All that’s missing is the shizzle speak, baby bling and a crayola marker to graffiti my walls.



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Ow! My Balls!
by Karla ° Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Samson is not the most graceful dog on planet Earth. In the span of a year and half, our dog has evolved from a cute as a bug’s ear, six pound glutton of snuggles into a goliath-sized plunderer of pillows.

He is also special because his head is made of rocks. And since he likes to be wherever the humans are, we don’t even bother closing our bedroom door anymore because he will continuously ram his great big giant dog head into the door until someone opens it for him. And then by the time you turn around to go back to bed, he has already managed to steal your spot and fluff your pillows and rearrange the blankets just so for his morning nap.

Last weekend my brother and his fiancée came to visit. They are used to sleeping in on the weekends, but morning time around here starts at around 6:00am thanks to the addition of a tiny human that insists on eating the very second he wakes up and because we forgot the door to our guest room doesn’t shut properly and maybe also because we think it's funny, we unleashed Samson on them as soon as he finished his morning pee.

So Samson proceeded to barrel up the stairs at breakneck speed and use his big dog head to bang down their bedroom door before making like superman and lunging onto the bed to greet whatever humans were peacefully sleeping on its surface, or, land directly on my brothers crotch. Since his head is made of rocks, either option suited him just fine and apparently, Samson chose the latter.

Sorry little bro! You didn’t really need those pesky external male genitalia parts anyways did you?

And because Nate does not understand what having 85 lbs of dog landing on your balls feels like, he found it all very funny.


Mark imitating the sound Samson’s big dog head makes when he rams it into a closed door.

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First Foods
by Karla ° Sunday, June 10, 2007
As Nate discovers the joy of solid foods, I am also discovering just how intimate my love affair with laundry is about to become.

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A Battle of Wills
by Karla ° Friday, June 8, 2007
Mark and I have spent the last two days arguing about me having sex with another man.

And when I say we’ve been arguing, I don’t mean it like we’re all raising our voices and punching holes in the walls because that just isn’t our style. We are two of the most passive people on the planet and we argue like the way a monk prays. Respectfully and tenaciously.

We don’t have a will and we need to get one now that Nate is here. It’s not a nice thing to think about, but we have been talking about it because death and dying are an unfortunate reality and if Mark died, chances are I would probably move on with my life. And when I said that, all he heard was that some asshole would be banging his wife on an exotic island where women don’t wear clothes and beer cans grow on trees while he rots in a coffin somewhere all thanks to his life insurance payout.

So the part that we can't agree on is what conditions need to be placed on the life insurance money should one of us die, particularly when it comes to protecting Nate. And this is of particular importance if Mark dies because you can bet your sweet ass that if I was going to give up a very well paying job to stay home and raise our children that I was going to make damn well sure I would be OK financially for a very long time.

So let’s say that Mark dies tomorrow. Once I got over the fact that the Universe is an asshole because it already took a child from me, there may come a day when I want a man in my life again. So while I’m off being all widowed and slutty and stuff, one day I might also decide to settle down and remarry and depending on my age, have more kids, or maybe even marry into a family with other kids. So let’s fast forward even more into the hypothetical future and consider the possibility that I end up divorced or widowed again (remember Asshole Universe?) What happens to that life insurance money? Mark does not want the hypothetical future man that is banging his wife to see a nickel of the money, but if I have been kissing his kids goodnight for the past 10 years, surely those children are entitled to something aren’t they?

I now know why so many people don’t have wills. This isn’t easy stuff to swallow and digest and I am seriously considering just giving Samson Power of Attorney so he can buy all the goddam dog cookies he wants and be done with it.

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Vista
by Karla ° Wednesday, June 6, 2007
When I got this computer last year, Vista had not yet been released, but the computer came with the “Vista Upgrade” option which I was excited about because I am nerd and I like Microsoft.

So last night I decided to finally upgrade my computer only to find out that HP is a huge f-ing liar and the supposed upgrade was a flat out reinstall of Windows, which meant bye bye Karla’s programs and custom settings.

I kid you not, the installation instructions went something like this:

WARNING: Window’s Vista is a brand spanking new installation. Back up all your shit or you will be sorry.

The Hewlett-Packard Upgrade Utility for Windows Vista will half assed guide you through the following steps to install the Windows Vista operating system on your notebook computer.

Two disks are provided in the upgrade utility kit, but only one works.

Tee hee.

Snort.

Giggle.

Good luck Sucka!

When the install is complete proceed to make out with your new operating system because you love it that much.

And then cry when you realize that your forgot to back up all of your RSS feeds.

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Nathan and Gabby Sitting in a Tree
by Karla ° Monday, June 4, 2007
A picture story of Nate's first date.

Nate says, "This whole adult supervision thing really blows. I wonder if she still poops her pants too? And oh my god - is she lifting up her dress? She is! She is! I so want to look but my mom is in the room.
MUST! AVERT! GAZE!"


"Oh no! Is she is trying to hold my hand. What should I do?"


"I know! Let me shove my fist in my mouth. That never fails to impress."

"Or maybe I should reach out and touch her and let her know that I kinda dig her."

"Waaaaahhh! Oh my god Mom. I TOUCHED A GIRL! Waaaaahhh!"

~~~

And that was the end of that. But you know, the adults, the crazy adults don't give up that easily. So we tried to continue the date poolside. Maybe all Nate wanted was to show off his chubby baby thighs?


Apparently he does not love girls yet.

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Shameless Plug
by Karla ° Friday, June 1, 2007
I entered Nathan in a baby photo contest. When I was about three months old, I won a baby contest and was crowned with the title Cute as a Button (holy crap – I KNOW! – What happened?) and because I am all about cheesy posterity; I think it would be so darn awesome if my son won a contest for being cute as well, except instead of appearing in the local newspaper, he would get to grace the pages of a glossy magazine.

If you feel so inclined you can vote for him to win by clicking the link below.

I think Karla's Baby is Cute

All cute talk aside, the idea a winning a new camera sounds pretty darn fabulous because our digital camera is about six years old and in terms of electronics that’s basically on par with making it about as ancient as a dinosaur. And we all know how clunky and non-user friendly dinosaurs are. They are also gluttons on batteries.

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