Archive for November, 2005

Kids and videogames

As the gift-giving season approaches, my 5 yr old has decided this shall be The Year of The Gameboy. It came out of the blue. Visiting the local mall Santa, said 5 yr old boldly asked for a Gameboy, when asked what he wants for Christmas. That was the first mention of it. Unfortunately, it wasn't the last time I heard those words uttered.

His cousins (ages 6 and 7) have Gameboys. Two of them (there are 3 cousins with Gameboys) have had them since they were 5 and 6. Originally, their parents said the kids could only play with them in the car. The parents figured the kids didn't have anything else to do so what was the harm? 'Twas a slippery slope as they soon found out. Now the Gameboys go everywhere. Games for the units are an easy gift. No thought required. And so the Gameboys are adored by everyone in our family. Except us.

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So Many Thoughts, So Little Time

We’ve got company this week so I’m not sure if I’ll get a chance to post all the oddities that have occupied my thoughts. Off the top of my head, here are some random bits from my mind:

– Videogames/videogaming and kindergarten-age children. I hope to expand on this next week and solicit opinions.
– Paris Hilton is an idiot.
– It took a week for sil#1 to set a date for Chanukah with me. I’m pissed off that something that minor should cause me to expend that much energy on phone/voicemail/email.
– Christmas lights have appeared in epidemic proportions in our neighbourhood.
– We missed the Santa Claus parade due to an extremely necessary nap for a 2 year old.
– Saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. If you can get past all the missing bits from the book, it’s quite enjoyable. The special effects rocked.

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An interfaith marriage issue.

Preface: this is a complex topic and for the sake of brevity, I've excluded many details about how we conduct our lives, with regards to Judaism. Apologies if any exclusions have caused confusion. Please feel free to post your questions after reading this.

For those of you who are new to the show, you may be interested (or not) in the fact that I married a Jewish guy. What's the big deal you say? I'm not Jewish. I'm an Atheist. (insert ominous music here)

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There should be a law against…

Christmas lights in November.

Driving home tonight, I rounded the corner towards our street and what to my wondering eyes should appear? Not a miniature sleigh with eight tiny reindeer. Nope. Frickin’ icicle-style Christmas lights. Right beside frickin’ FLASHING icicle-style Christmas lights. 2 houses all decked out.

Hello? Heeellllloooooooo???? It’s November. The 11th. Remembrance Day actually. Not Christmas. Not Christmas Eve. Not even December!

I have the unfortunate fate of living in a neighbourhood where easily 30% of the neighbours leave their holiday lights up all year. I appreciate a good luminescent display for the holidays just as much as the next person. But I don’t appreciate it before December 1st or after January 1st. Last year I had the pleasure of seeing many houses still lit up in March. March. That’s right – Easter! Nothing says Easter like red and green lights strung all over your house. This vent is teetering on a rant…Must.calm.down. *sigh*

Not only do I consider these lights an eyesore right now (have you seen icicle lights on snow-less houses? Fugly.), but I also consider them to be an abuse of electricity. Cut back people! Put your lights on a timer. Or in your case, a bloody timed calendar. I consider myself a “small e” environmentalist. We turn our hot water heater down (saves energy and little hands from being scalded), use our programmable thermostat to our advantage and use compact fluorescent lights wherever possible. We don’t run our Christmas lights when it’s not even close to Christmas! We actually don’t put lights up outside, but that’s another story.

On a semi-related note, I’ve just found out we’ll be hosting Christmas dinner this year. This, is a good thing!

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The Profession of Motherhood

15 years or so ago, if someone had told me I'd be a Work-At-Home Mom (WAHM) right now, I would have laughed my ass off at them. I had big career plans. I thought little of marriage and certainly didn't see it as a means to having children. I figured I would either adopt or go for in-vitro fertilization if I wasn't married. Men didn't factor into the equation. My parents divorced when I was quite young and I figured if my Mother could raise a child singlehandedly, so could I.

Fast forward. I'm married. I have 2 children. Most people view us as a very stereotypical family. They discount my work and see me as a Stay At Home Mom (SAHM). I am responsible for the majority of domestic duties, being as my workplace is also our home. It is definitely not what I envisioned. I love it.

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Never a dull moment.

Note: this post contains some squeamish details. Read at your own risk. Preferably not while consuming spaghetti.

Today was progressing quite nicely. A client had just picked up an order, I had fed the kids and was going to make my own lunch and get ready for another client appointment. I picked up a baguette and our newly acquired knife. A very sharp serrated knife. It cuts through tough bread like butter. By now, you have probably surmised where this is going. Slice, slice, slice. End piece. Re-position knife carefully. Slice…not as carefully re-positioned as it should have been, it seems. The knife slipped. I missed the bread. I sliced through my thumb. In addition to blood, there was also some yellowish chicken-fat-type stuff exploding through the cut. It was at this point that I thought this was probably pretty serious. I’ve handled a lot of knives (including one just like this one) and never cut myself before. This looked like it would need stitches.

I should mention that I don’t do well with blood. I can handle injuries on the kids but I don’t do so well on myself. It’s a long story. The bottom line is I started to feel extremely light headed. Having passed out enough times to recognize it when it’s going to happen, I sat down and tried to mobilize the kids. The eldest grabbed the phone and an ice cube at my request. The youngest ran around laughing. Clearly she was missing the seriousness of the situation. While trying to stop the bleeding(Step 1), I moved on to Step 2: trying to reach my emergency contact – my husband.

After 10 minutes and numerous calls to my husband’s office and cell phone, with voicemail being the only result, I was re-thinking who I should designate as my Person to Contact In Case of Emergency. I called my mother-in-law (MIL). I calmly asked if I caught her at a bad time and as it turns out, she and my FIL were at an appointment. I asked if she could call me back, figuring my husband would retrieve the one of 50 or so voicemails I had left for him and arrive in time to prevent the children from going to the ER and seeing their mom cry while being stitched up. No such luck. En route to the hospital, I called MIL again and explained what had happened. Of course she was shocked and they rushed over to rescue us all. After a bit of time, my Person to Contact In Case of Emergency called. The conversation went something like this: Him: Hey, what’s up? You called?
Me: I’m at the hospital.
Him: What?
Me: I’ve been trying to reach you. Yada yada gotta go they’re calling my name.
My husband showed up just as the nurse was confirming who my Person to Contact in Case of Emergency is. I say it’s not the guy behind me . The guy who left his cell phone in his jacket pocket while he was enjoying a nice lunch out at a restaurant and I was bleeding all over the kitchen. Nope, not him! But of course, it is. He’s vowed never to leave his phone unattended again. But of course, he will 😉

My kids and husband left. My in-laws are terribly supportive in times like this. They actually hung out with me for a little while longer until I insisted they go, before traffic got bad. Even though I went through the Fast-track ER, I was still there for 3 hours. In hindsight, I figure I should have left the blood and guts hanging out so I looked like I needed more urgent care. I didn’t cry when they stitched me up. But I did scream several times (into my upper arm in an attempt to be courteous for the other patients who could hear me), when they froze my thumb with no less than 5 needle pricks. I didn’t look at the procedure as the sight of these things can be enough to make me pass out. I don’t know how many stitches I have, for those inquiring minds who want to know. The doctor was pretty compassionate and dealt with my lack of bravery quite respectfully.

Back at home I’m considering how I’m going to get the remaining order I have due this week, completed. And whether or not I will have the mobility I require to meet with the (rescheduled) client from today, and take on her business for a Sunday order.

I’m thankful I didn’t slice through any connective tissue (tendons/ligaments). I’m thankful that I didn’t do any nerve damage. I’m thankful that we have such a sharp kitchen knife and will treat it with a little more respect next time. I really don’t care for baguettes and never have.

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