Thursday, May 28, 2009

And you think guys are DUMB!!!!!?


Rock Chef here!

After reading Wreggie's post here, I begged and begged Ali to allow me to do a guest post, and she eventually agreed. I know she comes across as a tough cookie, but she can't bear to see a grown man cry!

Anyway, here it is. Watch and learn!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Something Is Wrong

I walked in this morning as usual to feed my blog desire. I sat down…turned on the light and suddenly it was all surreal. Everywhere there were splashes of pink and the smell of baby lotion permeated my nose.

I don’t know how to explain this except I felt all girly. I smelled like a woman. I felt like a woman. But I not a woman…I am a man trapped in a woman’s blog. I broke into spontaneous tears.

No really.

You see this is actually Wreggie guest blogging in Ali’s most private world.

She keeps a neat blog here. As I look around everything seems to be in order unlike her real life.

Thank goodness she invited me in the spring because I could never would have blog from here in the winter.

I swear this is strange. I’ve always been on the outside looking in. Now I am inside the blog looking out.

But instead of taking advantage of my new found trust I have come to respect this place.

This is the place where Ali has shared her joys and sorrows.

I remember two posts early on that stand out. One was about her on a weekend camping trip with friends.

The second post was when Aki blogged with a buzz. That was so funny.

Over the years I have become friends with Ali. Oh she is a Gemini alright. On again and off again.

Well I’m going to quietly back out of here and go back to my place.

Thanks Ali!

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Just FYI

For anyone that might be wondering...I've been sick for a week now - achey, congested, going through a box of kleenex a day, and headachey - it sucks.

Ellery has also been sick for a week - congested, coughing, puking and feverish - and that sucks even more.

She's also pretty much quit sleeping at night. She'll lay down for a few hours, then be up for hours, then sleep another hour, then be up till it's almost time to get up, then I'm having to wake her to take her to daycare for the day.

I'm not sure what's up, but I'm thinking the fact that we were away this past weekend, she had a big birthday party, she's sick, adjusting to daycare, teething, and on the verge of walking might be a little much for her to take at one time.

Hopefully she feels better soon - for all of our sakes. We need sleep.

Hope everyone else is great - be back soon!

Friday, May 15, 2009

'Tis the Season...

...for hella-big, killer spiders to invade my bathroom.

Seriously, could we just have one "spring" where spiders don't come up the drains? Please?

*I put spring in quotations because we have a snowfall warning in effect - for today.

Anyhoo, on to my monster arachnid story...

It's 6am, and I have just stumbled to the bathroom. I strip down, pee, wash my hands in the sink, then turn to start the shower. As I'm reaching for the faucet, I catch a glimpse of wild movement directly below me, about 4 inches from my toes.
I jump back and scream, then remember that I've got a sleeping husband, and sick, sleeping baby mere feet away, and I clamp my hands over my mouth and lower the octave on my scream.

Sidenote - It seems I haven't matured at all from
this whole spider debacle.

My huge, burly, 8 legged foe tries to fake me out with a "maybe I'll go left, maybe I'll go right, maybe I'll come right at you, no, I'm going left manoeuvre" while I just keep backing up towards the door, screaming into my hand, and panicking.

In about 12 seconds, these thoughts fly through my brain: I've got to get the f*ck out of here! Maybe I can go get Chris? Nope, that will just wake Ellery and she's sick, so she definitely needs her sleep. I'll go get a shoe and stomp him! No, that will still wake Ellery - let's face it, you're not exactly quiet when you're trying to murder something. Maybe I should just get in the shower and pretend he's not here? Then when I get out he might be gone...No stupid, because then while you're brushing your teeth or something he's going to be crawling up your legs! What can I kill him with that's long enough so that my hand is at least 2 feet from him, but that I can really squish him good?

So I wildly rip open the cupboards under the sink, silently praying (since aloud, I'm still screaming) that mysteriously there is a combat boot, a bottle of insecticide, a gun, or a bottle of hairspray and a lighter.

What I found was nail polish remover, toilet paper, tums, and such other items that definitely weren't going to help unless the spider either needed a manicure, had pooped himself, or had a tummy ache - all of which I wasn't planning on finding out.

But then suddenly, in the back, I caught sight of a bottle. A wonderful, nearly 2 foot tall bottle of drain cleaner!

I quickly yanked it out, poised myself above him, and SLAM, SLAM, SLAM!!! I repeatedly smashed the bottle down onto where the spider should have been. But every time I lifted my weapon, he would come scurrying out, having narrowly avoided death. He managed to get himself into the small groove between the tub and the floor, and pulled himself in to wait me out. He knew that the rounded corners of my bottle wouldn't fit into the space he'd gotten himself into.

But the more frustrated I got, the angrier I got, and the more I would slam the bottle down near him. I must have scared him a little, because he started making his way along the side of the tub, towards the wall behind the toilet. I watched him with the stealth of a lioness, and eventually his cockiness got the better of him, when instead of staying close to the perimeter, he decided to round off the curve between the wall and the tub, thus putting himself about 1.5 inches outside of his safety zone.

I grit my teeth, raised the bottle above my head, and said "Big mistake. Now you die, f*cker!"

And he did.

In a black, gooey, mess.

I left the remains and the bottle for the husband to dispose of, and went about my morning.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!!!!

Dear Ellery,

I can't believe a year has passed since you officially came into my life. It literally feels like yesterday that I was sitting at home on bed rest, praying, hoping, and doing a lot of crying, doing everything within my power to will you into the world so that I could finally hold you in my arms.

This past year has been by far the most amazing in my life, and I have you to thank for that.
Let's see - where to begin? It seems in the past month or two you've been growing and learning at warp speed. You now eat "big people" food, you can say a few words, you wave hello and good-bye, you crawl at least 10/mph, and will be walking on your own within two weeks, I have no doubt.

You've recently discovered temper tantrums, which I must say, are a bit amusing. You've definitely inherited that flair for the dramatics from me, so how can I fault you? And I know that right now, most of the shrieks are out of frustration of not being able to just tell us what you want, not because you're actually mad about anything.

A few days ago you started using this hilarious fake laugh when daddy or I are laughing. I think it's probably your way of trying to be included in the conversation, so now when you do it, we join you. It usually ends up with all three of us laughing huge belly laughs, because even you realize how funny it actually is.

Your love of books warms my heart. While most babies see their nighttime bottle and make a beeline for it, you are almost completely uninterested until I say "Ellery, is it time for books?" and then you make a mad dash for my legs, and wait impatiently for me to scoop you up. I'm glad that that's another thing you've picked up from me :)

Finally, FINALLY, you have also decided that maybe a snuggle once in a while isn't so bad. It's only been in the past month or so you've decided to let us hug you, but it was worth the wait. Now you love to come up on my lap, while we wrestle and I blow on your neck and tummy, and you giggle, and "hug" me by saying "Awwww" and pushing your forehead up against mine.

The way you grin with your two little teeth, the way you have to find the light in every room and point it out to me, listening to you "talk" to random objects, or to yourself in the mirror, are always the best parts of my day.

I love you more than anything in the world, and you have truly made my life complete.

Happy, Happy 1st Birthday to you, my babycakes!

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Pervert Towel

As I was stepping out of the shower this morning, I reached for my big, fluffy lavender towel and I had a thought (and prepare yourself, because it wasn’t a thought any normal sort of person would have).

The thought was this: If I was a pervert and I died, I’d like to be re-incarnated as a towel.

Yeah, allow that to sink in.

Now, get over the horror of such a disgusting thought, and bear with this crazy thought process of mine…

I mean, can you think of a better life to come back to? As a pervert, naked people are kind of the point, so a towel’s life would be idyllic.

I’d hope not to come back as some threadbare hand towel, where little kids wipe their snotty noses, or that people just end up using as a rag when something gets spilled on the floor.

Being a towel in an all male dormitory would be nice to look at, but the reality of getting myself washed on any sort of regular basis would be iffy. And I can only imagine the amount of puke/urine/kraft dinner that would end up all over me.

I’d want to come back as a cozy, luxury, fluffy bath sheet ideally, because then I’d probably be in some great home where people shower on a regular basis, and where I wouldn’t get thrown on the floor, or used on the dog.

I’d hang on a beautiful hook all day, warm and cozy in a gorgeous bathroom, enjoying the view while people showered (somehow I’d avoid looking, hearing or smelling when they went to the washroom), then live out my fantasy of being pulled along someone’s body, toweling off their moist skin.

When it was time for a cleaning of my own, I’d get thrown in a warm washing machine with all of my buddies, where we could swap stories, “Did you see the way Jack’s legs looked this morning? Damn, he must have started doing lunges again at the gym…” and “I know! He looks great, and that Erin – she has got the smoothest skin…”

Then I’d be fluffed in the dryer, before being folded and put on a shelf (where the pervy stories would continue), waiting for my next turn as someone’s towel.

Yep, if I was a pervert, I’d definitely want to come back as a towel.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

10 Things I Say on a Daily Basis

*Most of them aren't nice.

1. Ellery, come see mommy...

2. That is the (insert words of choice here, ie: grossest dinner, funniest joke, biggest booger) in the history of the universe.

3. What are we going to have for supper?

4. F*ck.

5. I'm sorry? (and yeah, I say it as a question)

6. Oh, mommy loves you!

7. Chris, I swear to God...

8. Yeaaaaah.

9. Are you f*cking kidding me?!

10. Ellery did you poop?!

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Tidbits #14.5

Yesterday was my first day back at work - I'd been away for 13 months. Things are different around there, and not for the better. I'll leave it at that for the moment.

Tonight I went to Walmart in a desperate attempt to find a pair of shoes I've been looking for, for Ellery. There is a reason I need this particular pair, but it's a long story. Anyways, big surprise, they didn't have her size...and this was the 4th store I've checked.
While I was there leaned over my cart, resting my arms on the hand rest as I slowly meandered down an aisle, I noticed this guy staring at me. We were walking towards each other, and at first I was flattered since he was kind of cute. Then I remembered I was wearing an old sweatshirt, some saggy, ripped jeans, flip flops, and my hair in a sloppy, half fallen out ponytail and began to wonder why he was staring. I waited for him to look away as we got closer, but no dice.
As we were about to pass each other I realized that he was looking at my, wait...not at my cart exactly, but at where I was resting my arms. No, wait...he was looking at my chest! What?!?! I'm wearing a sweatshirt! As we passed each other, he finally looked up and winked.
I hurried past him, muttering to myself, then just happened to look down, thinking maybe I had spilled something on myself. However, once I glanced down I gasped, bolted upright, and turned back around, to where I could still see him.
Seems that my zip up sweatshirt had come a *bit reveal my a red lace bra.

Note to self: just stop going to Walmart - you always do something embarrassing in there!

My dad's retirement party was this past weekend - thanks for all the suggestions about what to get him! In the end I just gave him a card, in which I wrote how much I loved him, respected him, and appreciated him working so hard over the past 36 years to give my mom and brother and I everything we ever wanted or needed. I put it on his pillow before we left to come back to the city, and I'm sure we'll never speak of it. We're very close, but talking about that would have us both bawling.
On the party side of things, it seems not drinking for two years can turn you into quite the cheap drunk. By the end of my second drink I was toast. So I had about 7 more. It was a fun night, complete with the weaving walk home in the spring air at about one in the morning with the husband.

*I use this term loosely.