A R-ruff and a Royal Growl

My house looks like a bomb went off and shot piles of useless crap everywhere, and yet I still have time to watch American Idol. Apparently, watching pseudo-reality tv shows is more important than cleaning. Who knew?

Do you watch it too? You may scoff, but there are a lot of Really Important People who follow the show religiously. It must be an actor thing, because American Idol is pretty much just a fancier version of an audition. But I can't stop watching. And judging. And nit-picking. It's awesome.

And last night? The Big Upset. I had a funny feeling that Kris would win. Adam is clearly the better singer and performer (like, miles better) and yet he didn't win. And if I had the judges sitting in front of me, I would tell them that, no, Idol actually isn't a singing competition. Because if it was, Adam would have won, hands down. Idol is actually a pop(ular) competition. It's about finding someone that appeals to the masses, and that is not something that you can say about Adam. He challenges the audience, and downright frightens most of middle America. Kris is "cute", and Adam looks like he just came from an audition for The Cure.

Oh, but Adam is so ridiculously talented! If I had one ounce of his singing ability...I'd...well, I don't know what I'd be doing right now, but it would be a lot more exciting than, say, painting my box:

Whut?! Did Nomo just go all porno? Nah. Not me. But my son did say to me, more than once I might add, "I like yer box, mummy!" Wanna know why? Wanna see some pictures of my box?? Come on over to Playdate, my friends, and have a look-see. I'll show you as many pictures of my box that you want.

I need some support hos

No, that's not a typo. I was trying to be all hip-like, and just ended up sounding like I can't pass a grade school spelling test (or grammar test, for that matter). Further proof that ageing caucasian females should perhaps not attempt street lingo. But after Randy Jackson stole the word "dude" from the caucasion population, I felt the need to get some of my own back.

Anyhow.

In a fit of fancy, I signed up for a 10K race this Sunday. I KNOW. Crazy, right? I don't think I've run a race since before Big C was born. Please send me some good vibes this Sunday at 8am (if you're awake). I will need all the support I can. And since the boys are all coming to cheer me on, I have to finish the race somehow. Run, Phatgirl, Run.

In other news, I am considering a new business venture over at Playdate. If you have young children, and are a fan of a good storytime, please pop over and give me your feedback, will you?

Yo.

Mm, Mm, My baby's got a secret.

Big C just told me that I was getting fat. "Why is your stomach so funny-looking? It's getting bigger! HA, HA!!" Happy Thursday morning to you too, buddy! Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Oh, and while we're at it, the weather can kiss my a$$ too. It better be awfully nice this weekend, or there's going to be some 'H' to pay. I am going to kick some serious weather butt.

If you want some lighter, happier secrets, come on over to Playdate today. I got a couple of good ones.

I am agog.

I am officially impressed. Painted Maypole does, like, four times the amount of shows that I do (or more) and yet she still finds time to post regularly. I'm having a hard time fitting it in. I get about an hour break a day (if the kidlets actually decide to nap), and by the time I finish running my lines, I have - at most - twenty minutes left. I usually fall asleep. Oh yes, I could post after the kids are in bed, but on the nights that I'm home, I'm pretty much a zombie by the time the kids are in bed. I veg out in front of the tv. I manage to watch one show before I konk out. It's sad.

Tonight, we're doing an Italian Run, which means we do all the dialogue and blocking, just really fast. (If anyone out there is Italian, please don't email all up in arms - that's what this kind of run is called. I didn't make it up). On Sunday, we finally move into the theatre. Yahoo! The stage won't be ready yet, so we're going to do a line run in the dressing room, and have our headshots done.

That's one thing that really bugs me about local theatres. I spent a whackload of money on professional headshots so that great lighting and a thick layer of makeup would make me look less scary than usual. And yet every show that I do insists that they have someone come in and take ANOTHER headshot, so that all the headshots look alike. Who cares if they look alike?? I just want to look good. I have three zits right now. I will not look good. I will look tired, old and spotted.

Anyways, Maypole wanted me to post more about the rehearsal process. I realized that I promised I would do that over at Playdate. I am Mama Drama after all. I've been sadly lax about that promise. So I posted the good stuff this week. All the gossip and the drama. Go have a read. I didn't work on my lines that day, so I could share the dirt.

Wherein I bore (um, WOW) you with my Acting Prowess

At long last, rehearsals for my show are finally underway. Do you remember that I auditioned back in June? Holy Moley that seems like a long time ago! For one thing, we weren't covered in a mountain of snow. [Public Service Announcement: Shovel your @#$% sidewalks! You know who you are. Don't make me come after you with this big chip on my shoulder. But I digress...]

I've had a lot of people ask me in amazed tones just how I do it - get up on stage in front of so many people, memorize all those lines, produce tears, etc. These questions always kind of take me aback, because I don't see it as any special talent - it's just what I do. I have always maintained that acting is 5% talent and 95% hard work.

Continue reading at Playdate

Let your Heart be Light

No news on the sleeping front. We remain ever wakeful.

We've got a couple leads regarding care for the Little Guy in January, but it's mostly nannies. I don't know why I continue to feel this way, but I just don't feel that a nanny is a good fit for us. Maybe I just haven't met the right one...?

I still hold out hope that things will just magically work out. A Christmas Miracle. (Mr Earth's new and much overused phrase).

But YAY! Christmas is almost here! In the spirit of holiday cheer and good times, I will share with you 7 Random Things About Nomo's Christmas:

1. I love Christmas Carols. I never get tired of hearing them. Really! And you know what? When I hear them in a store, they really DO make me want to buy more. Go figure.
2. I can't stand blinking holiday lights. They make me crazy. If you want to see me go ballistic, stick me in a room with blinking holiday lights and come back in an hour and watch me go. It's some kind of weird Pavlovian-like response. (Or maybe I was abducted, hypnotized and sent back out into the world to wreak havoc...it could happen)
3. The only tree topper allowed in Casa Earth is a star. With apologies to you angel lovers out there, I just don't get it. Having a pine branch stuck up your butt all season just looks painful, and it makes me uncomfortable. But what do I know? Maybe the angel loves a prickly goose.
4. Christmas presents are opened on Christmas morning, NOT Christmas Eve. For those of you who open them on the Eve, whatever do you do the next morning? [Caveat: We open one present on the Eve, and one only - pyjamas to wear that night so everyone is decent for pictures in the morning.]
5. We must have a real tree. End of discussion. And, yes, I am still sweeping up pine needles from last year.
6. Much to Mr Earth's dismay, I find that Christmas is just not Christmas without Boney M.
7. When not screaming at me because they haven't slept long enough (Little G), or fake puking because I forced them to taste the sweet potato (Big C), my kids can actually be quite pleasant to be around. Sometimes they are even...adorable:

Photography by Tangerine. Winning message for this year's card is the title of this post.

I haven't been around much to your blogs due to lack of sleep, and desperate last-minute Christmas shopping. If anyone is struggling with presents for kids (yours or others), stop by Playdate today and read about the cool toys I found for the kidlets on my list. I got some rockin' deals! Nothing over sixty dollars!!

And now I sound like a used car salesperson.

Merry Christmas everyone. I am missing you greatly.

Yesterday

My day started at 4am when the Little Guy was up for the day. For. The. Day. No amount of coaxing would put him back to sleep.

I made a major error at work, a client shouted at me, and I broke down in tears (after hanging up) due to lack of sleep. I spent all day fixing the error, ignoring the many other urgent requests.

The lady who watches the Little Guy during the day - whom we love and the Little Guy has bonded with - has had to give us her notice. Her father was diagnosed with cancer. Awful story - he went to the hospital with what he thought was bronchitis, and it turns out he has inoperable lung cancer. Can you imagine? I feel just terrible for her. She's separated from her husband, watching her two kids (and mine) all day, her mother's passed away and she has to deal with this. Quit her job. Leave her house. Take care of her father. Merry Christmas.

I don't know what we're going to do for the Little Guy come January, but right now I can't even think about that. I haven't slept properly in so long that I'm about to lose my mind. My regular Playdate post was intercepted by a sorrowful tale of woes about the lack of sleep in our house. Please go over there and offer advice, support, anything. I'm desperate.

And tired. So, so tired.

I Am What I Am

Hi, my name is NoMo and I have a confession: I don't like to cook.

I don't like it. I don't derive any pleasure from doing it. In fact, it stresses me out. Timing everything so that it's all hot at the same time. But not too hot or it will burn the mouths of babes. Worrying if you're going to make people sick by undercooking the chicken. Worrying if you overcook the chicken that no one will eat it. Angry because you spent a lot of time making food and a certain somebody won't eat it because it's not grilled cheese. This is not fun for me.

I DO, however, love to bake. But you can't just bake goodies all the time. Brownies for breakfast, lunch and dinner is not cool. Especially when you have two little mouths to feed. (I'm pretty sure an all chocolate diet for kids is frowned upon. I'm not 100% positive though - I didn't read the handbook.)

I was reading Domestic Goddess Kgirl's post at Playdate about a working mother's meal planning, and I was just floored by how she's got her act together. I swear, one of the toughest things about going back to work is not rushing to get the kids out the door and to two different daycares, not rushing through a backlog of work, not rushing through lunch doing Christmas errands with less time than usual because you have to leave early, not rushing to get to two different daycares to pick up the kids and get them home before their mouths and there stomachs complain too loudly - it's that after all this, I then have to find something for dinner. And find it fast. This week I've foisted the dinner-making on Mr Earth, and have been much less stressed because of it.

This past year on mat leave, I have tried and tried to better myself in this arena. Once a week, I would make a healthy, balanced dinner from scratch. Not reheated, not defrosted, not from a can or a mix. From scratch. (And yes, I'm aware that once a week is abysmal, but remember, I am The UnChef). The boys and would go to the local markets and get fresh meat, fresh produce everything. I had some help from this awesome book that my friend at Random House sent me: The Good Food for Families cookbook. It's pretty great - it has lots of easy to follow recipes, advice about what to serve with the main dish, how to make the family meal kid-friendly and stuff about the Canada Food Guide. It's so user-friendly that I actually came to enjoy cooking a meal. The kids still didn't eat it, but oh well. The Boy doesn't venture far off the grains section of the Pyramid, and the Little Guy was just starting solids. I felt pretty good about myself. The quintessential Family Dinner. We even went around the table and shared our "three (favourite) things" of the day.

Needless to say, that has fallen by the wayside since going back to work. It actually fell by the wayside earlier than that, who am I kidding? And now that the Little Guy is turning out to be such an adventurous eater (beets! parsnips! salmon! bok choy!), I want to get some of that back. I feel so pressed for time, though. At the end of the day, I'm just happy if the four food groups re represented. I already spend so much of my evenings prepping for the next day so that I can get out the door and to work on time, if I add prepping a meal, I fear that I will lose any "me" time that I've scrounged for myself. Ack! Get out the world's smallest violins and play a sad song for me will you? Parenting is hard and I should suck it up.

Cooking is not my talent. No sir. I am good at many things, and that is not one of them. I need one of those doohickies from Star Trek where you just tell it what food you want and it appears. OH! That reminds me - something I AM good at: spotting the hotties. Get yourself on over to Playdate and see what Hollywood hotties made Mama Drama's list. You'll be surprised.

One Day More

Wow, this week has been rough. If you're wondering why I've not been around more when I'm finally back in front of the computer most of the day, it's because I can barely keep my eyes open.

The Little Guy has decided that sleep is for the birds, and he's just going to forego naps and bedtimes in favour of staying awake and screaming. He screams on the way home from daycare, too. He wants to be held, and I just can't push the stroller and carry him at the same time. Not for that distance, and not with the Boy in the stroller. He also screams and crawls away when I try to clothe or diaper him (But that's old hat around here. You'd think I was torturing him, instead of trying to put on a onesie.)

The Little Guy now spends his days with a local mom and her two kids. She's studying to be a nutrionist, so she's a very good match for our second son, whom we fondly call "The Mouth". He'll eat almost anything. He does seem to like it there, though. In fact, the only time he's not screaming lately is when I drop him off in her arms in the morning. (I'm a little insulted, actually. The only time I expect him to scream and he turns mute and just watches me leave.)

The other day, Mr Earth was blowing raspberries on the Little Guy's tummy before bathtime and the Little Guy was chuckling away to himself, and I felt so lighthearted. I realized that it had been quite some time since I'd heard that sound. That made me a little sad. Okay, a lot sad.

On the plus side, I don't look as sloptastic as I usually do. Every few years, I go through this metamorphosis in the grooming department where I decide Everything! Must! Go! and this time around it happened to coincide with my going back to work. I've decided that if I'm going to work in an office, I should look like I work in an office, not like some student fresh out of university who cobbles together a sad little outfit that is woefully unacceptable. I've tried to apply the rules from my favourite show What Not to Wear. (I always laugh at the people who complain about having to shop on the show, but it IS actually very tiring! I should stop laughing). I've written about my new rules for what not to wear at the office when you're a mother newly back to work over at Playdate. Go have a read. Laugh at my blighted fashion attempts. Give me some wardrobe advice. I obviously need it..

Must sleep now. So very tired. And so very glad tomorrow is Friday.

It's beginning to look a lot like...oh crap.

After mocking people for starting Christmas way too early, I'm starting to get a bit freaked out about it myself. Maybe it's the unexpected carols in local paper store, or the 3 AISLES of Christmas decorations already up in the superstore, but my pulse is starting to race just a bit at the thought of all the things that I have to get done before December 25th. Christmas cards! Bridal shower! Holiday parties! Gift exchanges! Oh yeah, and going back to work on Monday. It's too much.

The Boy and I have been pouring over the toy flyers that have been mysteriously showing up at our door (how do they know where we live??), trying to find gift ideas for the multitude of children that are on my shopping list. Our evenings go something like this:

flip-flip-flip
"Oh, mummy, can I have this?"
flip-flip-flip
"This is my very favourite thing!"
flip-flip-flip
"Can I get this, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeasssssssssssse?"

We're not materialistic at all.

Everything is too expensive, has too many flashing lights and loud sounds, or is just too old or too...much. And I've got a serious hate on for all things branded with movie or tv characters (yes, Disney, that means you too - eventhough my sister-in-law is a bigwig at your company). And I love the handmade, wooden, environmentally-friendly, politically-correct toys but WOWSERS do they cost some big bucks! We're on a budget, people! But Christmas is for the kids, and it's a BIG DEAL around Casa Earth. I want to see the magic in their eyes when they walk downstairs and see what has appeared beneath the tree overnight. And I don't want to spend a gazillion dollars.

So I'm trying to think back to all the Christmas mornings and birthdays that I've had over the years, and to the toys or gifts that really stood out for me. I've compiled a list of my favourite toys that you can read over at Playdate. Go and have a read if you have a moment. Who knows - you may be inspired yourself. And for the love of Pete, if you have any really good ideas for gifts in the 4-year-old or 1-year-old range, please let me know in the comments here or at Playdate. I need help!

And so it begins..

I was walking the boys home in the stroller, and in between neighbouring pumpkins, ghosties and ghoulies, one lone house was stripped of Hallowe'en. In its stead was the merry twinkling of Christmas lights. It had the effect of simultaneously making the undead outdated and also making itself seem rather too precipitous.

Similarly, I was in a store earlier day getting more supplies for the handmade invitations that should have gone out last week for the bridal shower I'm hosting. The wedding is on New Year's Eve. I'm sure I will have NO PROBLEM finding a babysitter. Yeeaaahh. Anyways, as I was paying the exhorbitant amount of money they charged for sturdy cardstock, I recognized one of the tunes playing in the background as a Christmas carol. Here's how the ensuing conversation played out:

Inside Voice: "Freaks. It's barely November."
Outside Voice: "Omigoodness! That's a Christmas carol! Wow! Already. I wasn't prepared for that."

Shopkeeper: "Oh, it's just one of the songs on a mixed CD we have. We play that all the time."

Inside Voice: "Yeah right. Do you play that mixed CD that just happens to have a Christmas carol on it in the middle of July? Boo-yah!"
Outside Voice: "Huh."

See how interesting my life is?

Oh, and if you're already planning your holiday shopping, or - god forbid - are actually so organized that you're already shopping for the holidays (damn you and your crafty organizational skills!), then be sure to check out my latest post at Playdate. I have a recommendation for the awesomenest TV on DVD boxed set that not many people have heard about. If you like to laugh, then this show should be at the top of your list.

Don't tell me you don't like to laugh. Go. Read.

New drapes have been ordered.

I had some grand plans for my year of maternity leave. The boys and I would roam about town dressed up in playclothes made out of old drapes, soaking up the culture that the city has to offer. We would see plays! We would go to art galleries! And the Zoo! And Ontario Place! I'd bring my acoustic guitar and we'd make up teaching songs on a hilltop!! And we would do it all on our own - an intrepid threesome.

We did end up doing some of these things, but we only started doing them recently, and never by ourselves. Frankly, on the days that my elder wasn't in preschool, I counted it a very grand thing if we made it out of the house before 4pm.

Read more at Playdate.

I play a mean guitar. Learnt it from a nun.

Myers-Briggs analysts would have a field day.

'Cause I'm over at Playdate today talking about actor/mother split personality: I seek attention, but loathe it when I get it. What's with that? I'm a freak.

So come on over to Playdate and look at the freak. Have a read. Analyze me if you can. If nothing else, it'll make you feel good to know you're not nearly as crazy as me.

Do You Gossip?

Do your friends Gossip? Do you Gossip when you're home alone at night? Do you Gossip with your husband? Do you Gossip on the couch, or in bed? Do you Gossip more than once a week? Would you, if you had the chance?

Come on over to Playdate today, and find out why I can't stop Gossiping. And send help.

If Life is Art, then I'm No Masterpiece

Why is it that when you have kids, you promise yourself that your life won't change. Well, obviously it WILL change, but you promise yourself that you won't forget who you are. What makes YOU happy. And then all of a sudden you have kids, and you do none of the things that used to make you happy, because you have no time for yourself. And of course being with the kids makes you incredibly happy, but so did those other things you used to do that you no longer have time for.

Is this just my life?

Anyways, I'm over at Playdate today talking about my approach to Art (Art with a capital "A"), and how it can also be an approach to Life. I'm all thinky! It's so unlike me! Go on over and check it out if you like random theories on Art.

Now c'mon. Who doesn't like random theories on Art?

The Magic of Unicorns and Oxy Deep

I spent a large portion of yesterday evening on my knees, and I wasn't prayin'. I'm just sayin'.

I was scrubbing the carpet. (What did you think?? Get your mind outta the gutter.)

SOMEBODY (who shall remain nameless, although it wasn't me, and the kids don't drink yet) accidentally spilled red wine our our newly steamed cream coloured carpets. We tried our old standby, Folex, but eventhough we poured it on, the stain only went from red to purple. Not the effect we were trying to achieve. So Mr Earth ran out to Canadian Tire and picked up Woolite Oxy Deep 2X and it took the stain out in a snap. It was akin to a miracle. There is only a faint blush colour left, and you'd have to know where to look. I'm a convert.

Speaking of miracles - have you ever seen a policeman riding a unicorn? (Would that be considered a miracle? Or a happening? Anywho.) I'm over at Playdate talking about just such an occurence. Curious? Come on over and read.

Did you know that Jesus can read feet?

Jesus: Did I ever tell you that I used to read feet?

Jeffrey: What?

Jesus: Some people read palms, tea leaves? I read feet. (Jeffrey shakes his head) No, look! (Jesus grabs Jeffrey's shoe.) Aha, it says rejoice!

(Everybody crowds around Jeffrey to look at his shoe.)

Jeffrey: It says "Keds".

Wanna know why I'm quoting Jesus? C'mon over and read.

The Drama Behind the Post

So, yes, it's Thursday and I'm over at Playdate talking about the new Batman movie, The Dark Knight.

What the post doesn't talk about is how hard it is to actually get out to see a movie once you have kids. First, you have to find someone who is willing to look after a 3-year-old AND a baby. Luckily, we have three sets of grandparents who are very good about us coming to visit and leaving the kids there for a couple of hours.

Second, with breastfeeding and naps, the timing has to be perfect. I knew we were in trouble when the Little Guy woke up a full hour and half before his usual crack of dawn waking time. And would not go back to sleep. After his morning nap, we jumped in the car and drove to the in-laws. I fed him and we jumped back in the car, minus kids, to make the noon show.

The movie was awesome! But when we got back, we found out that the Little Guy had been screaming or fussy for the past two hours, as we were greeted with the following salutation:

"Your second son is a hellion."

My first reaction was guilt. I don't like to hear that the Little Guy was not happy, and I felt bad for wanting to take time for myself. (Eventhough everyone needs a break sometimes!) I also felt bad that my mother-in-law had to put up with the screaming. I've been there and it's no fun.

My second reaction was anger. I take great exception to someone calling the Little Guy a hellion (other than myself or Mr Earth), even if they meant it as a "joke". And even I don't use the word hellion, and I tend to be over-dramatic (ahem). I usually use the word(s), Crankee-Doodle-Dandee, or Crankasaurus. Or NOT HAPPY. In capital letters.

And, just to be super duper nit-picky and grammatical, I would really prefer that she said "He acted like a hellion." He is most decidedly NOT a hellion. He is quite a happy baby most of the time. He simply wants what he wants and WOE BETIDE the person who does not give it to him right away. But as he is still a baby, he cannot tell you what he wants.

Anyways, we were supposed to stay for dinner, but my mother-in-law didn't have time to cook because she had to hold the Little Guy for the whole two hours. I suggested that we order something - on us (oh the guilt) - but I could tell that she was tired and would rather that we take our kids and go.

No skin off my nose. The rest of the day worked out just fine. We got home in time to calm the kids down with dinner and quiet play before bedtime. But I guess you could say we were sent home without our supper.

Go over and read the post at Playdate if you want to know what I thought about the movie.

Television Addicts Unite!

Calling all television whores!



Ali from Cheaper than Therapy wrote a post awhile back asking people for suggestions as to what shows to watch. It totally inspired me to write up my own personal recommendations. After all, I've spent a goodly portion of the last few years watching TV (er, well, my life, actually..). I'm something of an expert. Sad, but true.



So, if you're bored with the summer line-up, click on over to Playdate and see what Mama Drama recommends to chase away the TV blues.

Can Adults Go Back to Kindergarten?

Because I really think I need a refresher. I swore that I would do everything differently the second time around. That I would finally be "the perfect parent". Yeah, and that's going to happen REALLY SOON... Just wait for it... Ok, anytime now.

The only thing that's different this time around are the mistakes I make. (Hey, at least I'm not make the same mistakes as before! That's progress, right??)

Moving right along. It's Thursday! Go on over to Playdate and read about the timely lesson I received from reading a kid's picture book. It's never to late to learn.

C'mon. Show Mama Drama some love.