Anyone for pizza and a movie?

When Corey was gone, the girls and I had to find a routine.  Corey's a fantastic dad and husband and he's a huge part of our day to day life.  He really is the center of his girls' world and I kind of like him too.

So, knowing that he wasn't going to be around for awhile, I needed to buckle down and figure these things out.  So I did what I'm very best at.  I sat down with a pen and paper, and wrote and nice long list.  I listed things I needed to get done, things I wanted to get done and miscellaneous (which was Bethany's insistence that we "make someping"). 

Listing gives me purpose, it gives me direction and checking things off of my list makes me feel as though I'm getting somewhere.  It was also something to do with the girls that filled a few minutes, because believe you me, there were minutes that desperately needed filling. 

One of the things I put on the list, actually as a last minute addition (I love writing down something I'm going to do soon, because then I can scratch it off quickly) was to have a pizza and movie night with the kids.

When we were little, on Sunday evenings my parents would make nachos and we'd put sleeping bags in our living room and we'd sit and watch The Wonderful World of Disney together as a family.  Those memories for me are some of the sweetest.  It was time together as a family that was simple.  It didn't cost a lot, it wasn't busy or complicated, it was us and it just was.

Since Disney is no longer on, on Sunday evenings (or if it is I'm missing it) and since I can't eat Nachos because you have to make them with corn chips- we decided to compromise.  We'd make our homemade pizza, because it rocks and then we'd set up blankets, put on a movie and hang out and be together. 

It took a little time, and a little bit of pineapple and cheese snitching but we managed to get 'er done.  It was great!  The girls were over joyed at the idea of spending time, eating something like pizza in the living room hanging out with me.

Sometimes it's so easy for me to get busy and not spend a ton of undivided time with the girls.  I love to play and craft with them, but often we're interrupted, or I need to do something at the same time.  This time I purposely hung out, I didn't do dishes, I didn't fold clothes and I didn't check my email.  It surprised me to find that I needed it almost more than they did. 

We had 2 of those, one each weekend and made a decision.  Pizza and movie nights were too cool to keep to ourselves, we needed to make them an official Sunday night event so that Daddy could be included too.

Last weekend Cor joined us for his first pizza and movie night (which was lunch due to a scheduling issue) and the girls were so excited.  It took us at least 10 minutes to get them to settle down to start the show because they were both so anxious to show their Daddy how it all "works". 

With this weekend being Thanksgiving, I started thinking of all the things I'm thankful for.  It's something I've been trying to do on a more regular basis anyways these days.  It's amazing how remembering what you have to be grateful for makes the things you tend to grumble about seem less important. 

Anyways, of all of the things I'm thankful for - my husband, my beautiful daughters, my family, our work, a God who pretty much rocks and the list goes on, these new memories are pretty high on the list.  And I'm really thankful for one night a week that includes cheesy gooey goodness.

So, if you haven't answered the question on 45 other blogs today, what are you thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Putting it all on the line

I spent the majority of the summer months complaining about, well, the summer months.  You know by now that the heat isn't my friend, the harsh rays do nothing but leave me more freckles spatter and the long days (while nice sometimes) have my children sleeping less than I need to.

From the first hot day of summer to the last I'm tapping my foot waiting for fall to arrive.  I watch the leaves, and check the weather forcast online 10 times a day (this may seem excessive, it's not.  Come winter I check 45 times a day, first in anticipation of snow, and then with hopes of no snow - I'm a fair weather friend like that) then when it arrives, I dance around my house with joy!

Autumn brings cooler but still beautiful sunny days, crunchy leaves and rains that leave the air feeling fresh and new (said rain also, temporarily washing the smell of cow dung out of our nostrils).  We are outside more in the Fall, I know that sounds backwards, but with the lesser temperatures and cloudier days, I feel more inspired to get out and about.  And don't even get me started on the ridiculously awesome clothing options that come about in fall - yay for covering arms, legs, butt, belly and feet!

Basically what I'm saying, is I'm pretty much not sad at all to say "Chow" to summer and give Fall a big fat kiss.  Almost.  You see, there's one thing I love about summer, it's something I've only discovered the past few years but it's something I've grown to love.

What could possibly make this summer hater shed a tear? 

The ending of clothes line season.  We have a lovely, long clothes line that I adore.  Not only do I get to hang up all our clothes, leaving them fresh (unless it is manure spraying day, I found out the hard way that if your laundry is outside clean and fresh, while the farmer next door is spray poop everywhere, your clothes will come back in smelling like said poop, begging to be returned to the washing machine.  If they could talk I'm pretty sure they'd say they feel violated)  and crisp, but we are reducing our carbon imprint on the planet, and I'm down with that. 

I'm not going to get all environmentally on you today, because while we do our best to recycle when we can, turn off lights, hang our clothes on the line (squeeh!) there's much more we could do - I don't make our panties from recycled newspaper, I buy toilet paper not collect leaves and we totally used baby wipes ( I was not washing those wash clothes!).  I just love my clothes line, so when the season ends, and we have to start using our dryer again, or I have to hang my clothes on my indoor drying rack, I get a little sad for a moment.

Then I look out the window and see the orange and yellow leaves, look in the mirror and see my full clothed body and check the weather network and see a high of 19 and I smile.  I mean seriously, who wouldn't?  It's Autumn and it's here!

What do you miss about summer or if you're like me what do you LOVE about Fall/Autumn?

Time Out Rocks!

Around these parts it feels like some days all I do is say "No", "Don't do that", "Don't hit your sister", "Don't Kick your Sister!", "Put your shoes on already", "Eat your dinner", "Stop Pushing", "No throwing toys", "Get down you're going to break your arm", "Stop! No! Wait! Don't, Don't, Don't - seriously kid - just DON'T!"

Now, we've covered that most of the time I'm a "mean Mom" (I bought my Mom a mug years ago with a poem about the mean mother, if I remember I do a post about it soon), who parents her kids endlessly in hopes of raising well mannered, healthy, happy and intelligent children, but there are moments when I chose to turn a blind eye so that my children know I love them and actually do enjoy things that are fun.

I don't believe that I'm a horrible mother, I also don't think that I'm unnecessarily hard on our girls.  We always feel the proof is in the pudding when the kids are put into a situation that requires them to obey and behave and they do famously - while still laughing and smiling.

However, I don't really like this part of my "job" as Momma.  I love raising our kids, I love stories and cuddles, and I love hearing them laugh and listening to them sing, but I don't love discipline.  I don't love that there are moments when they don't obey and I'm forced to teach them why listening to what I say is important.  I don't love that every tom, dick and hairy (which until this moment didn't seem funny, but now that I see it in print....) has an opinion about how you do or don't punish them.  Some say you should spank, others think it's horrid, some are timeout fans while others still stand their kid in the corner, and the ones who don't have children at all have the strongest and most unappreciated opinion of them all.  If you do not have a child, you have no idea how this goes.  If you helped raise your siblings, it's not the same, your opinion is still unwanted and inexperienced - just ask Corey about the difference between being the brother and being the dad.  I understand that you (person with the unwanted opinion) mean well, but seriously Dude, shut it.

Mostly, what I dislike is that there is no one sure fire way to punish a child effectively.  Each situation, child and offence responds to different methods of reprimand.  I've learned this the hard way.

You see, Audrey's coming into her own.  She's reaching that point in her development when challenging me is awesome!  Bethany reached that stage, in fact I think most kids do, so I figured I'd be able to handle this no problem.  Surprise, surprise, I was wrong.

With Beth if I had to punish her, usually a time out did the trick.  She'd sob her eyes out while looking at me with contempt, totally and completely wounded by the fact that I was unhappy with her.  Just the threat of a timeout had her listening most times and it was rare that anything further was warranted. 

Audrey, however thinks time out ROCKS!  I'm not kidding, the other day my little instigator (if this were hockey she'd totally have a 20 minute game misconduct by now, such a bruiser she is.  Not that B doesn't start the other half of things but that's another day, sibling fights require another day) decided that while Beth is laying on the floor, minding her own business she's going to pick up a book and launch it at her head.  Audrey didn't just toss it, drop it, she wound up and as I'm standing to grab the book and say no, throws it with the force of a major league baseball player - the when it nails her sister in the shins (I said she had the force, not the aim) she grinned.  I could have screamed!

Instead, I grab her arm, scold her and tell her she needs to sit in timeout for hurting her sister.  That was mean.  I plunk her down and as I walk away I see this little face...

(PS. Time out never usually has a toy, soother or anything else that can be comfort or weapon...)

Then she's completely calm and says nothing.  I think maybe it's sinking in, not all kids cry when they're upset.  So I leave her there for her 2 minutes and when I go back I see this face...

I ask her to stand up, talk to her about what she did, made her go say sorry to Bethany and thought ok, battle won.  Then she does something that surprised me and made me have to fight laughter.  She hung her head and said "Mo - Out!" and marched back over to time out and sat down.  She enjoyed herself! 

Apparently if you're 21 months old and your big sister gets timeout, it's cool to have them too.  And as cute as she is it left me with this impending sense of doom, now what?

We manage, I believe whole heartedly that the challenges AJ is going to bring to this family will be night and day different and together these little girls will leave me feeling baffled and frustrated.  I just say it's a really good thing that in spite of those days and those moments, that I love this job, I love this life and I love these girls!  I mean, really? Who would love kids this cute?

My new favourite

In case you've all noticed, the past few weeks have seen less posts than  normal.  This mostly stems from exhaustion and distraction.  Corey was away for work for 16 days and I was playing single parent, which while difficult at times was not as hard as I expected it to be.  It did however, greatly diminish the amount of time I had to do any blogging.  Well, maybe that's not quite true, maybe it's more like when I did have time my brain felt frozen and I needed to zone out for awhile. 

Anyways, it was a much needed break.  Both to take some time to think about the things I'd like to say, and also to take some time with my girls.  Sometimes, when you get busy and distracted it gets easy to put housework and work and other things ahead of sitting down and playing with your kids.  Taking the time to do that did me as much good as it did them and I'm glad.  In case you didn't know, they're pretty awesome little people.

There's more to come in the following weeks.  Stories, pictures, links, the pages will be full, but for now, it's the weekend and I'm going to say enjoy it!  And I'll leave you with my newest favourite picture of my little, big girl!

It's this thing called "Perfection" and it's going around

In my life I have read a lot of literature.  I have read Shakespeare (some by choice, some not so much), I have read biology books, Archie Comics, Cosmopolitan Magazine (ps. Corey says thankyouverymuch for that one article I read in 2005, it was gold), and Teen Beat.  I read daily blogs, mommy information pamphlets, romance novels and my Bible.  I am someone who considers themselves to be knowledge starved, always in search of new and useful information, and one who soaks up every ounce.  If in fact you were to take a step back and look at my life, you'd see that at least 50% of my waking hours have been spent with my nose buried in a book, reading this thing or that.  Basically it's one of my major food groups, the one that feeds the ol' brain cells - whatever's left of them.

And of all of the things I have read in my life, very few have left the impact on me that what I am about to share with you today has.  I'm saying that with all sincerity and seriousness, only a handful of things that I have read in my whole 20 something years on this planet (you do not need to know the something) have left this kind of mark on both my heart and my mind.  And I'd say that says something about the importance of a written word, when a person compares it to the other influential works of literature in her life and it comes up on the list not far from the Word of God - pretty heavy stuff ...if you ask me.

I'm talking about a post called "The disease called "Perfection"", written by Single Dad Laughing.  It's a real and serious look at what's happening to the society we live in based on our daily search for the "Perfect Life".  He says so clearly what I've been dying to put into words for so very long.  He puts so plainly what we all chose to ignore because it would be easier to ignore the truth, the imperfection, the faults, rather than let them smack us in the face so we can knock them out of the ball park.

I'm not going to paraphrase or spend an hour giving you an in depth look at what I think about what he has to say.  At least, not tonight, but I am going to ask you to go read it.  Please take the time, please read it from the first word to the last and please come back and tell me what you think.

We're living in a broken world, one that's full of more corruptness than I can even fathom, we're living in a society that treats alcoholism, drug addiction, childhood obesity, infidelity, self mutilation and eating disorders as common, household annoyances - like nothing more than a leaky faucet or a backed up toilet.  Famous people turn up dead of one cause or another, images aren't what they seem and "reality TV" is anything but, and still someone, somewhere tells us we're not good enough.  This world may be broken, on it's last legs but with every breath that it labours to breathe it whispers, "You're Fat!"  "You're Ugly" "You don't have a job because nobody can stand to be around you" "Why didn't your parents just name you Stupid, would have saved us all time"  "Your worthless, no one, will ever love you"

But the top just blew off of that game, someone threw the cards on the table and called a spade, a spade.  And if I do say so myself, it's about damn time.

At the end of the article, he asks us to share how perfect we aren't, because you never know who needed to hear that.  Who's looked at you, as someone you're not and who desperately needs to know they're not alone.  And I love that, what a great way to make us all feel as worthy as we truly are.  So, here it is, here's how perfect I'm not

- Sometimes I turn the TV on for the kids, just because I can't handle one more question, problem, game, because I feel like my brain is about to explode and I need a break

- I have never, not once, looked in the mirror and been completely satisfied with myself. 

- While I have carried and birthed two children, my boobs haven't grown at all.  They are still as small as they were in the 7th grade and it makes me feel like less of a woman.  I spend countless hours trying to find the right bra to make them appear even slightly bigger, and each time I joke about their size, I'm silently crying inside.
-  That awkward, chubby girl from high school, who none of the boys ever noticed and who believe with all her heart that she would grow up to an old, lonely spinster, because nobody would ever think her worthy of love, still lives inside of me and haunts my days.

- To second that, each morning I wake up and almost have to pinch myself because someone did marry me, and for the life of me I can't understand why

- I avoid going back to Hope for fear of running into the people in high school who made me feel so small.  Because while on the outside I'm a confident, happy woman on the inside I still feel their rejection.

- My children make me angry enough sometimes that I have to walk away.  Not because I believe I could physically hurt them, I know I couldn't but because I'm afraid it would come out it words - ones that I'd never be able to take back.  And that anger scares me, because I know in my hands and in my words is the potential for life altering damage.

- I worry about everything, my children's safety, my husband's self esteem, my house, my hair, the food I feed the kids, the bank balance, the list goes on.  I worry more than I don't, and try as I might, pray as I do, read as much as I can, I can't make it stop, it is, what I do.

This post made me take a hard look at my life, at the moments of perfection that I strive for and the things I need to change before they become the ones that hurt my children, or the ones that damage my marriage.  It also felt like it gave me a voice a chance to share with someone else, the reality of being real.  To give power too the imperfect (hey, yo that's me!) and rain buckets of acid on the disease I have called "Perfection" 

On my sidebar, you'll see this

it's a  badge, a permalink to the post because I want to share this message.  I believe, that it holds the potential to change lives, to get people talking and to force us to be real.  You never know when getting real, can change a day, touch a soul or save a life.

So, please go take a look, read his article, each word and then come back and share with me, someone who cares about you, and who wants and needs to know - how perfect aren't you.

Please pass the toilet paper

Because it's funny....



Happy Friday, everyone!  Enjoy your weekends.

I forget

Somedays it feels like I have so very much to say and not a single brain cell left in which to form the words to
say it.  I will begin multiple conversations throughout my day, with my Mom, my girls, Corey and never finish them, not because I've been interrupted, or because there is a crisis (although there are many conversations left hanging for these exact reasons) but more because what I was saying completely vanished from my brain.  It's kinda like the missing sock, you know, one minutes you're putting 2 socks into the washing machine, the next you're pulling one out of the dryer - the other sock, never to be seen again.

This didn't always happen to me, in fact I used to pride myself on my uncanny ability to remember any and everything! (In fact, I used to have the item numbers of random items in most of my stores memorized.  Useful? Not often,  Dorky? Absolutely.) My Mom used to have conversation farts, where it all went out the window and I used to roll my eyes - pft Old people. 

The thing is, one of two things has happened.  Either I've become old (which would explain why random teenagers keep calling me Ma'am.  And no, I'm never going to let that go) or my Mom had a valid point when she said it was my fault, at least partially my fault.  You see, she used to say she gave birth to half her brain cells when she had me, and then half of what was left when she had my brother, so all she was left with was a quarter and that entitled her to forget things once in awhile.  I said that was a bunch of garbage and to try a new one, but now, I wonder....

I've given birth a few times now, and it seems miraculously that my ability to remember things is disipating at a rapid rate.  Maybe it's the whole brain cell thing or maybe, the ones that are left are overloaded with kid stuff.  You know the 600 things I have to remember each time we head out the door and the reason I don't carry a purse but Mary Poppins' magic bag.

The other theory is that it's because the sheer volume of these two children is mind numbing at times.  It's not all crying and shreiking (although there is definately times where that is the exact cause of the sound) these days the girls are learning to play together and that involves laughing and giggling, shouting for each other and hide and seek - which by the way is where Bethany puts her face against the wall and counts, while sneaking a peak through her armpit and Audrey standing there in a braced position for the moment B turns around to find her.  It's sort of more like a kid waiting anxiously for a Jack in the Box to pop than two kids hiding.  It's intensly frustrating and undeniably cute, but over all really loud! 

What ever the cause, the cure seems impossible to find.  I read, they say that exercises the brain, my brain's got a wicked six pack but it's memory bank is still flabby.  I tell the girls to "Turn down the volume", and that lasts 2.5 seconds and I do what every self respecting woman does.  I write lists in and on everything, I have a grocery book with lists and notes, my pants pockets are full of scrap paper lists and snotty tissue (because what mother doesn't carry snotty tissue), I don't write on my hands because I might forget where to find my list, I use a day planner and fill the calendar on my Crackberry to it's fullest, (not to mention my kitchen calendar), then I don't go anywhere without it.

And still I forget!  So today, I shout out to all my fellow Mommies, I need help.  Do you remember things?  Does your brain feel like the contents of a sick kids diaper or are you holding it all together?  What's your trick, how do you manage to remember it all and keep it all together?

"G"25

There's a man in my life I have great admiration for.  He's not this man or this man, he's a man, who I haven't always been kind to, who has caused me grief from time to time and who's played a key role in my life.  We've shared memories and a few "moments", heck we even share genetics.

Had you not guessed it by now, I'm talking about my brother.  You know, that guy I mention from time to time who's a few years younger than I.  I'd tell you his name but then I'd have to kill you, well, not really but he's got this thing with his privacy and not wanting is information on the internet.  And since I'm too old to be antagonistic to him, I'll respect his wishes.  (Sometimes I even think he might have the right idea.  I seriously wonder, how much safer would I be if I didn't blog and wasn't a member of Facebook?  As much as I feel I'm in control, am I really?...another day)

However, his 25th birthday is today and I couldn't, I just couldn't let this day go by with out a post.  So, for the purpose of this post well call him "G" (this has no significance other than the fact that it's not his name and every time I think about referring to him as "Little G" it makes me giggle.  That and because if I tried doing what I did when we were young adolescents and call him Squirt he may never talk to me again.).

To top that off, I'm a very visual person.  I love photos and pictures because they hold countless memories and make a reader feel connected to the person in question.  The problem with that is he wants privacy, I can't post photos of us as kids, it might give it away (or expose some of my less than desirable style choices throughout the years).  So, I did what any good sister would do...

Meet "Little G"

I know this was risky, seeing as to how this is a very accurate depiction of him, but I've decided to chance it, for your sake of course.  Also, I'll have you know this took me the better part of an hour, which is why I am not in graphic design.

Anyways, the years since I've moved away from home have seen the relationship between "G" and I grow distant.  Having jobs, getting married, having children and life have all got in the way.  It's not something that's unusual for siblings, especially those of the opposite sex, but it is something that from time to time has made me sad - I miss my brother.

This past year though, has given us more opportunities to see each other.  Our fantastic weekend in Sooke was the real beginning for us to get to know each other again, and that's really what it's like, starting over.  More than that even, it's been the chance to not only watch him grow relationships with Bethany and Audrey but also for me to see who he's become.

I think as we all grow up, especially those of us who are the oldest in the sibling chain of command, we set out expectations of who our siblings are going to be.  Not that we think endlessly about the careers they will choose or the lives they will lead, but more we think about who they'll be in general and the role they will play in our lives.  I'm not sure if it was a conscious thought process for me, but as adulthood approached for both of us I quickly realized it wasn't going to be what I thought.

I envisioned us being close, I thought that age and separate bathrooms would see us growing closer together, bridging the gap in our relationship that sibling rivalry had created and becoming more than blood relatives but friends.  It didn't quite go like that, we didn't fight so much any more but we hardly talked.  Not because of anger or a problem but because we'd become two different people, living different lives.

Somewhere in my mind, over this time I've created the person I believed "G" to be.  I had made up my mind that while I knew he was old enough to live on his own, buy a vehicle and kiss a girl (to which I still say BLECH! Even when it is a nice girl that we like, Blech! Hi "GF" (again privacy thing but I figure ya'll can figure out girlfriend = GF), he was still a young man, a teenager inside.  Someone who I was smarter than, who couldn't possibly possess the life skills that I did and someone that still needed his big sister to watch over him - even if I couldn't.

What I've come to discover is something quite the opposite.  The person I sat across the living room with the other day didn't posses any of the qualities a teenager would, somewhere between 19 and this unbelievable 25 years old "G" has managed to not only mature into a man but a smart at that.  What's more, I had nothing to do with it.

I know, right!  I had nothing to do with it.  I haven't been around for 6ish years and look what's happened.  Maybe that says something, about God's power and wisdom (not about me, yo).

"G" has become someone I'm so proud of, not just the whole, "He's my brother and it's heavy" thing, but because of the man he's choosing to be.  As I spend more time talking with him I'm finding that he's smart, about things I'm not.  He understands worlds in a way that I couldn't possibly (I'd like to think I'm still a little sheltered) and he's brave.  I know that sounds kind of like he's not afraid to pick up a sword and fight a dragon, and while I think he'd probably get a kick out of that, it isn't what I mean.  He's not afraid to try anything, or if he is he's stellar at keeping it hidden, he'll take on challenges that make me cringe, he'll eat just about anything if the price is right (or the dare is big enough) and he has no problem putting on what I deem a flimsy mask and let dudes shoot paintballs at him.  (I hear that it's ok because you get to shoot people back, but anything that causes welts that also result in nasty bruises is unappealing to me)  He accepts people who the world turns away and loves those who sometimes are outcasts.  I'm ashamed to say that quite often he gives people, the ones that I'd automatically write off based on reputation or appearance a chance, and some how manages to find the gold that's in them.  It's one of those things I'd say is one of his true gifts. 

One of his other gifts? He's a really good uncle, a great one even.  The first time "G" met Bethany he was squeamish.  I handed her over to him and the look on his face pretty much said, "If this kid pukes on me I'm gonna toss her and run", then he looked in her face.  I have a picture of that moment, it's one of my favourites.  Then Audrey came along, he'd had time to get to know Bethany and had started to see glimpses of what his relationship with her could be but still it was light years away.  The first time he met AJ was something very similar to Bethany, this time however he refused to hold her.  It was the chink in his armour, he was afraid he'd hurt her.  Someone took her and plunked her in his arms leaving him no choice and again, the "fear of poo" appear, then he looked at her.  I have that moment in picture form too, it's my next favourite.  The girls are far away from those teeny infants now and the relationship he has with them has grown just as much.  From the very first moment "G" told Bethany that he'd take her to her first day of school, it's a promise she talks of every once in awhile and one that I know Audrey will look forward to, too.  These past few months, Bethany's become one of his "girls", and while Audrey's still a little skittish she too is coming around to Uncle "G".  They light up when he comes in a room, they chatter about him when he leaves and as far as they are concerned he's one of the coolest people they know.  Next to Papa that is. 

The cool thing is, I think in his eyes, they might just be the coolest little people he knows.  And if they aren't he's gonna hear about it from his still older sister.  He's not completely without his faults now, he still sucks at phoning me back and when he does getting more than one word answers is like a miracle, but I deal with it.  At least I'm getting to see him once in awhile, now.  That and today's his birthday so I'll keep the airing of dirty laundry to a minimum.

Today, this guy, this man that I love so much turns 25.  He's 1/4 of a century and it kind of blows my mind.  Not in the same way that watching our girls grow up has, but more in a way that feels surreal.  How did we get here?  My first memory is the day he came home from the hospital, sitting in the middle of the night, in the shadow of the stairs watching someone rock him to sleep,  I knew then I'd always love and protect him.  But how is in that 25 years have passed since that moment? 

The years went fast and felt slow, the fights were monumental (dude hit me in the back with a pot - I may have deserved it but I'll never let him live it down), the laughter erased most of them and the memories, today, overwhelm.

Happy Birthday "G"!  I am truly proud of the man you've become, of the integrity that you show and the Uncle you are to my girls.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, I believe God has great things planned for you, truly great and magnanimous things, and I know you're well on your way to finding them. I love you as much now as I did that very first moment, and respect you twice as much.  I hope with all my heart you enjoy your day!

Lessons I've learned from Kate Gosselin

1. When taking little kids to the washroom, using an automatic toilet, hang a piece of toilet paper over the sensor until they are finished.  This way, the toilet won't randomly flush while their teeny, tiny tushies are squirming all over it and they won't be scared out of their wits and fall in. (The latter part of this I learned the hard way)

2. Not all husbands are as fantastic as the one I have.  Some love their kids but don't know how to love their life and I should count my blessings.  And I do.

3. Divorce sucks, people get hurt, with or without cameras.  But cameras make it waaaaay harder.

4. Not everybody can dance, but everyone can try.  Some should just stick to doing it in the living room.  With the curtains closed. When everyone is asleep.

5. Dressing your same sex children the same is absolutely adorable, even if it is cliche.

6. Having chickens, even when you have a sweet looking coupe and 8 munchkins to help, is gross.  I don't know if she thinks this but every time I see that episode with the chickens I gag.

7. Grocery shopping for my little family of 4 is nothing in comparison to shopping for 9!  I think I should stop complaining.

8. No matter what you do, someone is always going to think you're doing it wrong.  Trying to please everyone will only drive you mental and they only way to actually get it right, is love your kids, follow your gut and fly by the seat of your pants.

There are so many who don't love Kate, and even more who stand in judgement over her.  I just can't, I started out with that in mind but as time has worn on my heart has softened.  She's one heck of a Mom, she's a woman who does whatever she can to love and support her children.  And while I'm sure there is a measure that enjoys being on TV I believe her when she says that she continues to do the publicity thing because it's how she can provide for her children.  I mean, what other option does she have that allows her to be there for her kids too?  We don't judge Julia Roberts or Michael Douglas for going to work while leaving kids at home, but because Kate includes hers in what she does that must make her wrong.  But I take our girls to work with me each day, so where then does that leave me...

Anyways this didn't start out to be a I ♥ Kate post, I just wanted to share some useful tips I've learned.  But keep in mind, the next time you see her on the cover of a magazine, things aren't always as they seem.

We like to think of it as building their immune systems....

Candy and sweets aren't something that are found in our house on a regular basis.  Well, let me re-phrase that, candy and sweets for the girls and I aren't found in our house on a regular basis, Corey is another story :)

However, we do believe in treats once in awhile, because hey what's childhood without a treat or two.  Healthy eating comes with sweet rewards.  And as such, Bethany being the oldest has had her fair share.  Off all the newer sweets that she's had "lollisticks" (suckers) are her favourites.  They are something that are quite rare around here, and when she does get one she's enthralled.  Not only do they taste good and come on a stick but they change the color of your tongue! 

Letting her have one was something that was difficult for me.  I worry, about a lot of things, but about the choking factor on these candies on a stick.  But we feel she's gotten old enough to have one if she's sitting down and being supervised.  It's one of the perks of being the older sister, the crap shoot for Audrey is that she isn't allowed to have them.

Aside from her penchant for choking on random things, she still doesn't understand the consequences to sticking one too far down your throat.  So, that means she needs to wait to be allowed to have one.  And while it may seem unfair to some, I believe that there are some things that an older child can have that a younger one can't.  Audrey will get those things when she's older, but for now, she has to wait.

Or does she?

The other day, after lunch I decided Bethany could have a "lollistick" she'd been good and it was burning a hole in my cupboard.  So I pulled it out for her, explained to a little upset Audrey that while she couldn't have the same as B I had a treat for her and settled them on the kitchen floor while I did dishes.  After seeing the few gummy bears in her bowl, AJ quit crying and everything seemed fine. 

Until I turned around and found this...

Bethany decided to do what we are always asking her to, and share.

I thought about taking it away and scolding them, but the damage had already been done.  I also knew it was going to seriously damage my "Mean Mom" reputation (that's a story for another day) but hey, a kid's gotta have fun and they WERE sharing.

Anyways I went back to doing dishes, keeping an eye out.  The next time I turned around I found this...

"Audrey, what are you doing?"

"Think about it Mom..."

"Is it good?"  Mmmmm

One for me and

One for you

Ok, let me see your tongues!

Here, it looked like this...

Lollistick from Ashley Stone on Vimeo.

It's a hair affair

One of my favourite things about having girls (ok so the list is 6 miles long) is the fact that I can let them have beautiful long hair.  I love having my hair long, playing with it, straightening it, begging whatever is left of my curls after two pregnancies to appear and so on.  So when I found out I would have not 1 but 2 girls, visions of ponytails and french braids danced through my head.

Now it's taken a long time to get to a place where either of those two things were a possibility for either of our girls.  I went back and tried to find the post of the first time I did a ponytail or the like in Bethany's hair but couldn't find it.  She was almost 2 before I could even squeak out two teeny, tiny pig tails at the back amidst her mullet.  Audrey was much younger when I was able to "do" her hair but with each millimeter it grows I become increasingly excited about the newest do possibility.

This past few weeks has seen a few newbies in this house and I'm so excited.  Audrey has earned her very first ponytail  and as you can see above, Bethany is into french braids!!!!

They're both so good about getting their hair done, and although Audrey really can't handle sitting still for more than 30 seconds we manage ok.  Bethany is my trooper, she sat still for 15 minutes this morning while I figured out how to do an inside out braid for her. 

After all the fuss and muss and half a can of hairspray, all I can say is - little girls ROCK!

Why teachers drink

A good friend of my Mom's sent this e-mail the other day that had the mood in our office lightening considerably.  Most often she ignores forwarded e-mails but this one she just happened to open, and I'm glad.

Now, I'm going to apologize because the full grandeur of this email is going to be lost in the fact that the email contains this information in the form of scanned copies of the kids' answers.  I however, am technologically challenged and can't get them to copy and paste here.  Since the hilarity of these is still relevant I'm going to be self sacrificing and spend the whole 15 minutes to transcribe them here, for you, so that you too can laugh until you let a squeaker out that is actually a stink bomb cry.

 You're welcome.

So, without further adieu, here is why teacher's drink

Q: Explain why phosphorus trichloride (PCl3) is polar?
A: Because God made it that way

Q: (Photo of a lady - Tracy, with a bubble containing a complicated math equation and answer) Explain why Tracy is wrong
 A: She's a woman

Q: Hard Water vs Soft Water worksheet: Briefly explain what hard water is.
A: Ice

Q: What was Sir Walter Raleigh famous for?
A: He is a noted figure in history because he invented cigarettes and started a craze for bicycles

Q: What did Mahatma Gandhi and Genghis Khan have in common?
A: Unusual Names

Q: Name on of the early Romans' greatest achievements
A: Learning to speak Latin

Q: Name one measure which can be put into place to avoid river flooding in times of extensive rainfall (eg. in Mississippi)
A: Flooding in areas such as the Mississippi may be avoided by placing a number of big dames into the river

Q: Name 6 animals which live specifically in the Arctic
A: Two Polar Bears, Three Four Seals

Q: How does Romeo's character develop throughout the play?
A: It doesn't, it's just self, self, self all the way through

Q: Name the wife of Orpheus, whom he attempted to save from the underworld.
A: Mrs. Orpheus

Q: Where was the American Declaration of Independence signed?
A: At the bottom

Q: What happens to a boy at puberty?
A: He says goodbye to his childhood and enters adultery

Q: What is the meaning of 'varicose'?
A: Close by

Q: What is the highest frequency noise that a human can register?
A: Mariah Carey

Q: What is a fibula?
A: A little lie

Q: Joanna works in an office.  Her computer is a stand-alone system.  What is a stand alone computer system?
A: It doesn't come with a chair

Q: What is a vibration?
A: There are good vibrations and bad vibrations.  Good vibrations were discovered in the 1960's

Q: The race of people known as Malays come from which country?
A: Malaria

I hope you enjoyed these as much as I did.  It's a toss on my favourites between Joanna's stand alone system and a boy and puberty.  Oh and you can't forget putting bid dames into the river!

What's yours?  Better yet, do you have one to share that's not included? Happy Weekend, let me know if you're laughing with me or at me.

Quit Blowing Smoke

The other night while trying to avoid watching this show, a commercial came on that caught my attention.  Now, we've talked about my love of the Old Spice Commercials (and the one where the lady bowls into the wall, but I still can't find a clip), but aside from those few, I usually mute the commercials and use the 2 minute break to blab Corey's ear off. 

However, this commercial also caught my attention

(Sorry it's so big, I can't figure out how to shrink it)

Talk about effective. I was so captivated because smoking is another one of my soapbox issues.  In fact, it's another of the things that baffles me.  (That list seems to be getting longer....) 

I've never been a smoker, I've never tried smoking and short of a guy I dated who smoked, I've always done my best to avoid, said smoke.  It's yucky, it smells bad and it contributes greatly to the deterioration of both your body and your quality of life.  Oh, and did I mention is does serious damage to one's bank account.

Now, if you started smoking some 50 years ago, I can at least say I semi understand the starting part (less the yucky smell and bank account attack) because we didn't know what we do now about what cigarettes are doing to our bodies.  What I still don't understand is why continue?  Why perpetuate a habit that's only going to put you in your grave sooner.

No, being a smoker is the causes of every smoker's death (got that one?) some die of other causes.  But a great number have either suffered some of the smoking consequences up until that point of being not alive.  It feels to me like standing in the center of the Autobahn , saying "Well, not everyone who is on the street gets hit and killed.  Sooooo, I'll just hang out here and take my chances"  We'd all agree that guy's an idiot, but as you call 9-1-1, with a smoke hanging from your lips, tell me what's the difference?

And if all of that doesn't make you want to toss your pack and get a grip, what about what your habit does to those around you?  We know now that second hand smoke - kills!  It causes those around you to suffer the same effect of cigarette smoking that you do, except they're not the ones with the flaming piece of tar in their mouths.  Do you really want to be responsible for their quality of life being decreased?  Do you want their death on your shoulders?  Sure, talking death is extreme but it's also reality, in the whole big picture, a grave reality.

Then there are the children.  Yes, I said the kids.  No you may not blow it in their face or smoke in your car.  But newsflash - if you're walking down the sidewalk, with your babe in the stroller, they're still breathing some of your toxins.  Think about it.

I understand that we all make bad choices (trust me when I say, I'm a very solid member of BCA - Bad Choices Anonymous) but most bad choices can be at the very least repaired with a good choice.  I also know and understand the addiction factor.  I spent some time post high school taking some University courses that covered the portions of the body set to depend on the nicotine.  Heck, one day I'll even tell you about what happened to my body with the narcotics they had me on when I was sick back before Bethany was born. 

I also know that there are options and help to beat the habit.  Many who start, also stop.  It's one of those sheer determination things, the making up of your mind and the committing to face the with drawls, the longing and whatever else you feel as you let go of something that's become such a huge part of your life.

Still not convinced?  Let's try one more thing....

Let's flash forward a little ways, say to the end of your life.  You've lived a good life, at 35 years old you've kissed a few, loved a few, you saw the Vancouver Canucks almost with the Stanley Cup a few times, you graduated high school and you even finished University.  So, you didn't really get past being an intern at your dream firm, but at least you were in the door and security wasn't chasing to get you out.  Sure, you wanted to see the whole of this beautiful country we live in but, at least you got as far as Saskatchewan.  Ya, you wanted kids but hey, at least since you decided to wait a little longer you won't be leaving any behind.  Ok, so it sort of sucks that the chance you had to play pro-ball went down the crapper when you couldn't get the air to run the bases, but you probably won't have gone that far anyways, right?  Right?

Now, what's left of you.  A coughing, phlegmy mess, on your death bed, facing the end of a life barely begun and what's hanging from your lips but a smoke.  It's the end, what does it matter now?  That's the same thing you said 10 years ago, when the doctor warned you this was coming.  "I've smoked since I was 14, what does it matter now?"  It mattered, you see that now.  If you'd have stopped then, you'd have stood a chance.  You could have salvaged what was left of life and enjoyed many more years.  But instead, you lay there, bank account drained from the cost of both medicine and smokes, letting go of a life not lived and the family that will never be.

You wouldn't walk away from a man drowning in a river, saying "It's too late now, he's been out there too long.  Even if I reached him, there's nothing I can do" you'd kick of your shoes and run full force towards him, you wouldn't worry about your clothes or your new watch, all you'd be thinking of is saving him, of bringing him in to stand a chance, if not for him but for his family.   You'd grab him around the waist and swim to safety, as you blow air into his lungs you'd pray "please God, save him!"  And as the paramedics drove away, someone might slap you on the should and say "Job well done, son!  You saved his life...thank you!"  So, throw yourself a life line, buy the gum, quit cold turkey, see your doctor but quit now.  Add saving a life, your life to your list of greatest accomplishments and take a breath of fresh air.

You can do this, I know you can.  And when you do let me know, because you can be sure I'll say "Job Well done!  You saved a life today... thank you!"

Check out the Canadian Lung Association for help quitting!  Or Shard O'Glass, they've got help there too!

Teeny Tiny Beauty Queens

This post has been brewing for awhile, a long while actually.  The urge to write about it comes and goes, usually as I'm flicking through the channels in search of something useful to watch.  I think, "I'm soooo gonna unload about that later..." and later never comes.

But on the heals of this post from last week, I feel like we're there.  Before I go there, or here whichever it is, I'm going to warn you in a non-sarcastic, actually serious way that you might not like or agree with what I have to say.  As I've said before, my space, my words, my opinions.  I am also going to say that while what I'm going to write about is based on very strong emotion and is driven by my very huge opinion on everything.  It is not meant to be or to come across as judgement, I'll leave that job to the Big Guy.

What I'm talking about, what's burning my tail feathers is TLC's (notice a trend in my channel affections?) Toddlers and Tiaras.  If you've never had the bad fortune of coming across this show I'll re-cap: basically it follows around pageant contestants and their families.  It's like the inside scoop on beauty competitions for little itty bitty children.  The content is so unbelievably upsetting to me I've never survived a whole episode.

Now, I'm not at all suggesting that these mothers and fathers don't love their children.  I will never throw that accusation at any parent, because I don't believe it humanly possible to completely not love a child.  If it is, I hope I never meet the person who can say they are void of emotion for their kids.

But the thing is I don't understand how they can parade these sweet little girls around dressed like adults.  And not classy adults at that.  I have daughters, absolutely, breath takingly beautiful daughters and while I am proud of their appearance, I am far more impressed with the little girls and future women that live within them.  I love their natural beauty (with pretend make-up if you're Audrey - I "air" apply blush because she wants to copy), I love their sweet kidlet smiles and the goofy songs they sing.  Watching them I believe without a shadow of a doubt they are more beautiful than I could ever try to be - it seeps from their pores.

These little girls on the show, starting at a very, very young age are caked in make-up, their mothers of all people apply whitening strips to their teeth, dressed in mini pageant gowns and forced to parade on stage.  Oh, the adults always say "They love it", "They want to do it" and maybe for a few they do.  But you can't tell me that a 3 year old came up with the idea to dress herself that way, dance across the stage shaking her yet to develop ta-tas and earn her momma a nice fat pay cheque.  I have to say, on that I call bullshit.

I'm sure these little ones love the pretty crowns, but I caught a glimpse of an episode the other night, as the winners we announced and I watched the faces of those little girls.  They were impartial to the win, the didn't care that they won, they looked void of emotion and my heart broke.  They're guardians in the audience however were thrilled, there's something wrong with that picture.

Children are supposed to play and get dirty, laugh and goof around, have crooked ponytails and stay up late just to sneak an extra story from Mom.  And not that these little ones never do that, but how much of their lives is being taken from them in "training", in practice, because, their parents want to live out a dream? 

This show, while maybe began in an attempt to show the good side of the pageant life, all it's done for me is left me with a bitter taste in my mouth.  We don't even enter our children in "Most Beautiful Baby" etc competitions because again I don't believe children are had to be exploited (again, if that's your choice this isn't judgement, but opinion).  I don't want Bethany and Audrey to feel as though Corey and I need to compare them to someone else.  There is no comparing two human beings, we weren't created to be the same, but rather unique.

But more than any of that, the part that leaves me unbelievably sad is the future.  What does the future look like for these itty bitty queens?  How will they ever, develop a healthy self esteem when they know that their mommy is comparing them to someone else?  How will they ever feel beautiful in the eyes of those who matter when, they know that someone holds their self esteem in their hands in the shape of a trophy or a rhinestone encrusted tiara?

For me, it all comes down to disgust, sadness and frustration, because I don't really think these mothers and fathers understand what they're doing to their daughters.  Maybe not in the moment but for the future moments to come.  And I hope that these sweet little girls, find their true beauty beyond the stage and know that they are worth more in they eyes of God than make-up can create, that their self worth soars because of the women they'll become and not the awards on their shelves and that each night, when they're tucked into bed at night some says I love you because you're you, and you are always a winner to me!

It's the good kind of annual*

Ok, so I spent an hour writing this post yesterday and it was set to go live this morning.  Then the vast and wide Internet decided to chew it up and spit it out, forgetting to including the words.  Let's try this again...

First off, we have a winner over at OFS Reviews!  Go check it out and see if it's you.  And stay tuned, there are more contests and reviews on the horizon.

August always proves to be the busiest month of our summer.  It seems that we take awhile to get our summer plans rolling and before we know it, we are trying to cram everything we need and want to get done into one month.  It may not sounds efficient or well organized, and it's not, but it's what seems to happen, every year.  This year, of course was no different.

Of all the things that we do and plan for August, the highlight by far for all 4 of us is our Annual trip to Sooke, with my parents and brother.  My Mom books the condo at the Sooke Harbour and Marina almost a year in advance and as soon as it's booked it's on our calenders, in my day planner and of course on my Crackberry.  We then have the better part of a year to save, plan, dream, countdown the sleeps (and I'm not talking about the kids) and anticipate.  

Grammy and the girls "reading" cookbooks

It's so beautiful there, with the ocean at our finger tips, the unique and often quirky town of Sooke and Victoria only a stone's throw away.  It is also a chance to chill out and relax with some of our favourite people.  I know that I work with my Mom and Dad, and we see them on a fairly regular basis, but some days it feels as though I hardly have a relationship with them, particularly my Dad.  It seems between the hustle and bustle of two kids in an office setting and the whole needing to be productive for work thing, we hardly talk about more than plywood and windows, building permits and potty breaks (we take about 40 breaks a day, I'm almost tempted to say that's not an exaggeration).  And that's just us girls, Corey's work schedule such as it is, means that he almost never sees my parents.  Don't even get me started on the fact that my brother is leading his own life and is busy with a wonderful girlfriend (whom we love) and friends (whom we also love), leaving little to no time for a sister and some nieces (whom I know he loves).  But put us all together and bonds are formed, memories are made and relationships are once again renewed.

Papa and Grammy's Rosebud and Sweetpea

This year, was excellent.  The 4 of us headed out on Thursday night after Corey got off work.  Due to the time of day and the length of time it takes to drive to Sooke from the ferries, we decided to stay the night in Richmond.  It was that or get up at 4am for the ferry, and I do NOT willingly wake at 4am for anything, not even the prospect of a great holiday.  We spent the first half of Friday driving, riding ferries, searching for Starbucks and visiting a HUGE Walmart, I was in awe.

Corey showing off his inner monkey and also a "white guy" (We were walking down by the harbour in Victoria amidst dozens of people, when Corey announces "Hey Look a White guy!"  I was totally taken aback and tried to explain to him that was politically incorrect and that there were tons of white people.  He said, "No, seriously it's the white guy"  Then I saw the statue mime...oh, duh!)

It would take me hours, if not days to regale you with all the tales of our trip.  And since, I want you to be as interested as we are/were I'll recap.  Corey spent the weekend and then had to return to work for a few days, while the kids and I stayed in Sooke.  By the time we all returned (Corey came back for the second weekend) it was 10 days away, and it was nice.  We had such a great time, but it was funny, I was ready to come home.  Not that I wanted the fun to end, but I like the routine of our house, the kids were missing their toys and it was time to settle back in.

Driving the boat

Our days were spent hanging out and reading, watching the boats and seals in the harbour, going on small adventures in Sooke and to Victoria and just generally enjoying each other.  The boys also spent a great deal of their time out fishing and then vac sealing the fish - I spent that time complaining explaining to them that fish stinks, the scales get everywhere and seriously guys, that fish stinks!  My Dad and my brother and my Corey-Bear loved it, every second of it, so I only mildly complained and then chose to relocate for an hour while they finished - blech.

You can see the bruise under her nose here, and it was already 3 days old by this point and faded.

Aside from Audrey falling (she tripped over her own feet, landed smack on her face, split her lip and left a really horrible U shaped bruise under her nose that showed up with in 30 seconds of her falling) and smacking up her little face on the first evening, and then both kids landing themselves yucky head colds later in the week it was a great trip.

Story time with Papa

And I think, looking back if I were to pin point my favourite part of the trip I would have to say it's a toss between taking the kids to the Undersea Gardens (Bethany was in love with the Diver and was more than impressed that Daddy and Uncle Scott are secret divers too) and the time spent with  my brother.  Like I said, I hardly see him and when I do it always feels brief.  This past trip gave me a chance to see the man he's become, and contrary to what I may have said when we were teenagers he's grown into a really great, almost 25 year old man.  He's someone I not only love because I have to, but because I want to, he's also someone I respect greatly and I'm so glad he's in our lives.  More over, I proud of who he's become - also his choice in girlfriend is superior :)

That pretty much sums it up, a great week with a great family and some wonderful memories.  Now, the photos are in great abundance and since I'm pretty sure you don't want to spend an hour looking at them I'm going to spread them out over the next few weeks.  Just be warned :)

Happy Friday everyone!  What was the highlight of your summer?

*Because we all love annual family vacations, annual PAP Smears not so much

Telemarketer Advice

I understand that telemarketers are only doing their job.  I can empathize that you need to eat, your family needs a roof over their heads and this may have been your only choice.  Heck, I even understand sales and that being persuasive can sometimes mean the difference between getting or losing a sale. 

What I don't understand is this:  if you struggle with english, either you're still learning the language or your accent is so heavy I'm pretty sure your call center is located in the middle of somewhere across the ocean, why are you doing this job?  I can only imagine it's as frustrating for you as it is for me to have to be ask 50 times in 10 minutes "Sorry, what was that?"  Maybe you'd be better suited to something else. 

Next if you're a class A jerk, or plan to throw an attitude at me, maybe you'd be better off scrubbing toilets with your toothbrush.  The wrath of what I can throw is not something I think you want to face.

So here's what happened....

We've been away for 10 days on holidays (I'll update on that soon) and when I got home, I checked out the Caller ID.  Yes, yes I check my CID, I need to know who loves me and who doesn't.  Anyways, there was a Telus number on there 6 times.  Hmmmm, we're Shaw users after THIS event, what the heck would they want.  I kinda shrugged it off and waited to see what would happen. 

Monday they called back 3 times but there was only ever crackle on the other end.  I chalked it up to the brilliant service Telus gives, and hung up the phone.  Then yesterday they called 2 times while the kids and I were at work and then once again at 7:30pm while we were trying to get the kids into bed.  Here's how the conversation went...

Me: Hello?
Telus Lackie (TL): Looong pause "Hello?  Is this the person who is to buy the phone service?  I mean is this the uh, Mr or Mrs. Ashley and Corey Stone?"
Me: "Yes, this is Ashley Stone"
TL:" Hello Mrs. Stone, I'm ____________(name I couldn't make out) calling you from Telus (my brain slowly enters energy saving mode) to tell you about a service bundle we're offering with phone, Tv and Internet, I need to know who you get your service with presently since it NOT Telus Just so you know, they are recording this call"
Me: "We use Shaw, and Telus doesn't offer Internet here so I'm really not interested in your bundle.  I'll just save you some time and ask you now to please remove me from your call list."
TL: "I understand that ma'am (mental throwing darts at TL - Ma'am!) but this is an excellent package, I know you might be busy now but just listen me and I say to you want the bundle is"
Me: pulling out the annoyed Mommy Voice "thanks but I'm really not interested in the bundle, please remove me from your call list.  This is a bad time I need to go and put my kids to bed"
TL: "If you would just STOP TALKING I can read you this script and then I may take you off the phone list.  The bundle...."
Me: "I won't stop talking.  I told you I'm not interested, you don't even offer internet here so I'm not interested in your bundle.  Now since you're recording this call then you can record that I've been polite, I've asked nicely, NOW remove my name from the list and don't call me again.  Have a nice day"
"Accidentally" dropped the phone before hanging up.

Dude, it's your job to call and offer me a service, I get that.  I even blame Telus for being a bunch of crack pots for asking you to call a person who lives in an area (which you would know since you have my phone number and my address is listed) that their services are not provided.  But you don't need to be ignorant.  If you would have shut your mumbling trap for 30 seconds and listened you'd have understood and could have moved on to your next victim.  Now, all you've done is managed to earn your way onto my top 30 people I hope get hit by bird poo, right next to the spammer who hacked my e-mail and the maker of the Trojan virus that overtook my computer.  It's a shitty place to be, trust me.

We have a pretty heavy, be polite to Telemarketers rule around here because of paragraph 1 (I'm too lazy to re-write it), but tonight I broke the rule.  When they're not going to listen to reason and patience, I'm pulling out the big guns, loading the barrel and firing a who wad of teenage attitude your way.

What about you?  How do you handle Telemarketers?  Are you a nice Nancy?  Or a Nasty Norman?