Sara is Smiling

The Sweaters

It was so nice to have the whole family (missed you, Victoria!) together last week..even if it was for a funeral.

Danny was a knitter and definitely an artisan creating her own elaborate designs. There were an estimated 100 or so sweaters at her home that she hadn't given out yet. At the funeral they had them laid out on tables and people were invited to take one. Without any prompting from me, my kids excitedly dug through and picked out their favourites. Elly picked a purple one, of course, and demanded to put it on right away. It came down to her ankles and the sleeves had to be rolled all the way up, but she walked around like that for most of the evening.
Charlie picked a lovely cardigan which she curled up in on a chair outside. Her cousin Andrew joined her wearing his own Danny creation.

Andrew is the son of the oldest of Quincey's 7 siblings, and Charlie is the daughter of the youngest so as you can see, there is quite the age difference. Of all the cousins, though, my kids are the closest with Jonathan's (Andrew's dad) family. I think that's sweet. We spent a lot of time with them this weekend which is always a great time.

A sweater was the first thing Danny ever gave me, and also the first gift she ever gave my kids. When I was pregnant with Charlie I remember visiting Danny and seeing her knitting this teeny tiny little sweater with a horse on the front and the horses butt on the back. I was thinking, please be for Charlie..please be for Charlie!, but she never mentioned it and I didn't want to ask. I was thrilled when she finally gave it to us. That christmas, Charlie was about 6 weeks old, we all wore our sweaters. I have a picture, but can't find it right now. If I do, I'll come back and post it.

Here's the video played at the service made by Quincey's sister. It's got some really old video footage which I loved seeing.

Do Not Enter

Eloise has learned a new skill, and I have offically lost any shred of privacy I may have had.

Yesterday morning I was in the shower in the master bath. With Quincey. Our shower is a stand up all glass shower. Suddenly I notice the door is opening and little Elly is standing there with a huge smile and a wire hanger she used to pick the lock.

!!!!!!!!!!

There are no words. She can also pick the lock to my bedroom door and does so whenever she wants in. This is a problem, people. This is a major problem.

Me?? Bad?? Never!

You'd have self esteem issues too..

..if you grew up with these beautiful women.

That's my sister Mary and my cousin Rachel. We had a get together this weekend and Mary came up from the Okanagan, and Rachel came up from Southern Alberta.
It was so nice to see everybody. I wish I had been in better spirits, but unfortunately I was feeling a little under the weather....

I wasn't going to share this story, but it's a gooder so here goes:
Quincey has had a tough week with his mother passing and then he was out of town on business Wed-Fri. He was due to be home around 11pm Friday night. I decided to plan a little "welcome home party for 2" if you know what I mean.
We never get all cheesy romantic, but I went all out with candles all over the room, music, lingerie, wine, yada yada yada.
So it's late, I've got everything ready, I'm waiting, I have a glass of wine.
His flight is delayed and one glass becomes three. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but I'm on medication which - apparently - doesn't react well with alcohol.
Fast forward to Quincey finding me sprawled over the toilet in my sexy little number, hair and make up done, puking my guts out.
I have never been drunk in my life, I've never had a hang over, and I gotta say..just like I said through sobs over the toilet, "It's not worth it!"
Before going to the family reunion I had to take migraine pills and some gravol. Ugh. Nooo thank you. Until I'm off these pills I'll be taking a pass on any future consumption.

Diana Hardwicke-Brown (Danny)

My mother in law's obituary.

You can view it online here.

She was a character. She seemed to delight in saying controversial things to shock people. She was always kind to me, though, and made me feel comfortable and welcome in her family.
She wasn't a typical Grandma by any means, but that was part of her charm. Regardless, she was always interested to hear what the kids were doing and she loved to sit on the dock and watch them lay on their tummies leaning over the edge with little nets trying to catch minnows.

She always made sure there was a shovel and pail for them to gather shells and treasures when we visited her at her lakefront home, and while neighbours voiced concerns some years about the water level being too low Danny would tell me it was great because it gave my kids sand to play on.

My favourite Danny moment: When the kids caught a dead minnow (that they thought was alive) and she attempted to reanimate it in the MICROWAVE with the logic that it needed to be warmed up. Quincey and I watched in horror wondering if her next step would be mouth to mouth or cpr. She was a crazy bird! (said with all the love and respect in the world)

We took the kids to the hospital to see her luckily before she took her turn for the worse. Four little kids in a hospital room don't exactly make for good company, but she was thrilled to see us and beamed at all the stories we shared.
We will miss her, we already do. But like I told the kids, she's with Grandpa and her mom and dad and she'll be happy forever.

Smooth just like his Dad

While driving today I was playing "Would you rather" with the kids.
I asked Max, "Would you rather kiss a girl in your class or kiss your teacher in front of the class."
"Well," he says, "once I tried to kiss a girl in my class."
"What happened?" I asked.
"She looked at me and said, What are you doing? So I said, Just stretching my lips."

Of course, I had to immediately call Quincey and share this hilarious mini-Q story. Just too good to keep to myself!

Unsolved Mystery

Here are the facts:
Tuesday Night: Q is out at a business dinner. He gives me his credit card. I order pizza.

Wednesday morning I've planned to go shopping for school stuff. Quincey wanted me to use his card. I can't find it. I look and look. I assume Quincey has put it back in his wallet. Later that night he confirms that he did not take it.

So here's the problem..I know it's in the house because I used it for pizza. I've turned the house upside down looking for it.
I didn't find the card, but I DID find the car keys that have been missing for a week:

I suspect I'll never know the location of the credit card.
And who's to blame?
Who else.

The Bickering

I hate the bickering. I super-scheduled the kids in fun daycamps this summer because the bickering..OH, THE BICKERING!
It's everywhere we go. Part of everything we do.
Driving back from the grocery store I interrupted a squabble to ask,
"Does fighting make you happy?"
I got the answer in unison, "NOO!"
"Then why do you do it? Don't you want to be happy?"
Charlie: "But I'm right!"
Me: "So what? Let it go sometimes for the sake of peace and happiness!"
Charlie: "Being right makes me happy."
(she can't help it..it's in her DNA.)

So the bickering continues....

OK, now my feelings are hurt.

I can accept that you're a Daddy's girl. I even think it's sweet.
I'll even use it to my benefit when you're fussy and he tries to hand you off to me but you refuse, "Awww..she wants yoooou! Cuuute!" as I stroll away arms free and unencumbered.
Watching him try to put on his pants this morning and trying not to drop you because he couldn't stand the howling and sad face if he put you down gave me tremendous satisfaction. "Remember when Charlie was a baby?? This was my life. Every minute. Of every. Single. Day. A little sympathy finally? Big gold star? Pat on the head?"
But, Little Miss Quinn, you finally scrathced through my tough exterior this morning.
After a long night of pain from your molars coming through in which I stood in the dark swaying back and forth and humming softly in your ear, or awkwardly hunched over your crib rubbing your back for an eternity because you'd holler if I tried to tiptoe away you STILL punched me in the face this morning when I tried to take you from your Daddy's arms so he could leave for work.
That stung, little girl. I know Daddy's all horsey rides, tickles and wet kisses, but let's not forget who brought you into this world and raises you with blood, sweat and tears.
Ahhhhh...the plight of a mother. Where's the glamour? Maybe one day I'll get a thanks!

(By the way...thanks, Mommy!)

She was so ridiculous when he left this morning. The door closed behind him and she plopped to the floor and melted into a screaming puddle. My sympathy was waining so instead of picking her up out of her tantrum I got my camera.
Being the trained-from-birth-model that she is, she flipped the switch immediately so instead of the Devastated Daddy's Girl picture I was planning to get, I got the Red Eyed, Wet Faced Professional Baby Model picture.


And then seconds later while she tried to wrestle the camera away from me:

That's definitely going in the wedding slideshow.

Hands Free

Elly was loving on her Gink (security blanket), but decided she needed full use of both her hands to play.
Her solution was to ask me to tie it on her head.
As you can see, I obliged.

She walked around like that all evening.

Her and I were out together yesterday when she spotted a Hello Kitty helium balloon that she just had to have. I bought her the bee-loon as she calls them, and she walked around the store proud as a peacock.
Back home, she's walking up the front walk when a big gust of wind comes and whisks her bee-loon away.
As it floats up into the sky she's silent for a second as she prepares a scream from the depths of her diaphram. Her whole body trembles as it rises to the surface. She releases a wail the likes of which our neighbourhood has never experienced. Several people witnessed it, and I could see all of their hearts breaking. There were no make-your-kid-shut-up looks that I'm used to.
She stood there in her little purple sundress still holding her arm up with the ribbon from the balloon crying as it rose higher and higher. It was a lose everyone could relate too, I guess.
This morning she was still talking about it. She said she missed her Hello Kitty bee-loon and wondered if she would come back.
No, it's not coming back. But there just might be another Hello Kitty bee-loon in your future ;-)

Happy Birthday to Me

So I'll admit, I've had a hard time with turning 35.
Once you're 35 there's no denying it. You're not young anymore. I think I'm having more of a problem with "not being young" than I am with feeling "old". Because I don't feel old. My brain still thinks it's 22. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not.
But I'm happy with where I'm at in life and excited for our future plans, and wouldn't change a thing. Well, maybe one thing. I would love it if my kids wouldn't fight. Whenever they asked what I wanted for my birthday I'd answer, "No fighting". Max was excited and said he'd be in charge of no fighting on my birthday. You can imagine how that went over..Max fighting with Charlie about fighting with him when they weren't supposed to be fighting on my birthday.
Charlie's idea for my present was a fish. I don't know how she got it in her head that I needed a fish, but I figured it was a cheap and easy gift so me and 5 kids (had my niece) went to the pet store. If the kids had it their way we would've left with a new white kitten, an english bulldog puppy, a baby bunny and a tarantula.
We did find the perfect gift, though. A little bubble gum fish bowl that came with a beta fish for $15. Kids were thrilled because it was so cute, and Dad was thrilled because it was cheap.
This gave us the idea to make my cake look like a gum ball machine.

Kenzie and Charlie made the cake (with a little help decorating).
I made homemade pizza and Quincey bought me a new camera to replace the one that got ruined so it was a pretty great day.
My gift to myself was cleaning out the laundry room and sorting through every piece of clothing to keep, chuck or donate. It took an entire day and was decidedly un-fun, but it's something I've wanted to do for a long time. Quincey helped by keeping (at least trying to) Quinn out of my hair.
Yay for a clean laundry room!