Firebugs

Firework displays are in short supply around our town. Big city, yet barely do they do anything for fireworks. I mean we have a population of 300,000. You think someone, somewhere would consider it. Meh. Being that it was the May long weekend here in Canada, one of the few weekends we can blow things up to our hearts content LEGALLY, we were sure to take advantage. And blow up things we did.

I am happy to say my husbands eyebrows are still in tact.

Easter Egg Snow Hunt, a new tradition.

Mother Nature...let me down....again. She seems to have a habit of that EVERY time we plan an outdoor event. She's got it in for me.

I had visions of little girls bouncing around the yard in their frilly easter dresses, carrying pastel coloured baskets, collecting eggs with little boys in their Easter best, tyring to out do the girls. Come on, anything for a great photo op!!! Instead, Mother Nature dropped the temperatures and threw some snow at us for good measure. She hates me.

Blasted Mother Nature. Maybe next year, she'll hear my pleas.

Today is your Birthday...and we're gonna have a good time!

Six year's ago today, I turned 29. There was no party, no cake, no balloons or any of the typical birthday hoopla. All that was forgotten. Instead, I spent the day in the labour and delivery ward at the hospital. That's right. I really know how to celebrate! In full labour none the less!

Six year's ago today, the most amazing little creature, came in and stole my birthday. And today, this very day, that little creature is turning six. You know him as the boy. My boy. This crazy smart, incredibly funny, lovable unique little bean.

He's having a party today. We kinda missed the parties last year as today is also the one year anniversary of moving into our new house. We really like to cram our dates in around here. The girl and the baby were born April 30th and May 1st. See? Double up and get it over with I always say.

I planned my little heart out to make this day special for him and his 8 little friends. Yes, you heard me. EIGHT. Eight kids ranging from 3 to 8. I'll be needing a birthday drink or two this evening, I should think.



He's turning six....but I still remember him as that small baby boy who snuck in and thieved not only my birthday, but my heart.

Happy Birthday Boo.

There's no one else I'd rather share this day with, than you.

Boyisms

The boy has the gift of gab to the point where it could make you mental. He will talk to anyone in great length about pretty much anything. The topics are usually pretty obscure, and most people humour him. I am sure they are thinking the kid is nuts. Where ever we go, if someone so much as says hello, the kid starts a long drawn out and detailed chat about such things as the merits of cheetahs as pets. We seriously need to have that whole stranger talk again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The other day Eric takes the boy to the First Choice Hair Cutters. The boy is sitting in the chair, the lady is politely chatting with him. Suddenly, the boy blurts out:

I want to be a chameleon

The lady: Why do you want to be a chameleon?

The boy: Because I really want to change colours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was a beautiful day and Eric was trying to convince the boy to go outside. The boy was playing with his dragons with zero interest in leaving his current activity.

The boy: I don't wanna go for a walk

Eric: We can go on a dragon hunt.

The boy: I know what your doing and you'll never outsmart me.

He turns six shortly..

Churchisms

Sunday was communion at our church. We have a new minister who brings the all the kids down to take part in communion. Yes, a large group of 2 - 6 years old with little tiny glasses of grape juice. Never send your kids in white on communion days.

After church, we pile the kids in the van and head out to Nana and Papa's house for a visit. The kids start asking for a snack...

The boy: Mommy, can I have a snack...all I got a church was a tiny piece of bread.

The girl: well you don't want to be full when you walk with Jesus.

I love my kids!!!

Ultimate Blog Party Continues....

Welcome to our little Blog Party!!

The Dancing has started...lol

So I should probably write a little get to know me blurb for all the new faces popping in from the Blog Party. Here goes nothing. My name is Micki and I am a SAHM to three incredibly cute, witty and BUSY kids.

I used to work full time out of my home as an administrative assistant for a large local insurance company. After baby#2, we crunched the numbers, saw it was possible and I made the leap to a SAHM. Some days are easy, some are not, but I wouldn't have it any other way. My kids make me laugh daily and my blog gives me a place to record those silly moments. I don't publish everything I write. Somethings are just for them. There will be so many fun memories to share when they are older.


I have a very creative soul and I keep my mind bright with many, many hobbies. Photography, scrap booking, sewing, reading, blogging, being creative with Paint Shop Pro to name a few. Not that I have much time for them these days. But I do have a sewing workshop and I'm working towards selling my own custom children's clothes. WITH ALL MY FREE TIME. ha. With three kids and all those hobbies, plus the daily grind of life, you now know why this blog is called Too Friggin Busy.

Oh, and did I mention I also have a home daycare? lol

From Spring to Winter

This was Sunday......

This is today......

Snow has finally arrived.

Whoopeee.

Winning Awards All Over the Place

My brother bought the kids tamagotchi's for Christmas. Virtual pets. Nice. The boy has been very attentive with his, ensuring its fed, its "poop" is cleaned up and playing games with it. My daughters is permanently on pause.

So while making lunch, the boy comes to me with this little perplexed look on his face.

The boy: Mommy, something is wrong with my tamagotchi.

I take the thing and I see the a little blob with no face and angel wings.

Me: Um...(stifling giggles, cause I am warped like that) I am sorry boo,(yes I call him boo, move on) but it died.

Apparently he was sidetracked and had ignored it for the entire morning. Who knew tamagotchis were so sensitive to neglect.

His little chin starts to quiver and tears well up in his eyes. He looks devastated. He really had tried to take good care of it and had somehow, become attached to the little electronic pet.

Me: Oh no,giggle, giggle its okay (running frantically around the kitchen looking for something small enough to poke into the reset button, all the while stifling giggles) We can, giggle, just hatch a new egg, giggle. Maybe, giggle, it will be a boy this time. Its just like video game. You just have to start over.giggle giggle giggle

The boy is looking at me with great sadness, and here I am finding the whole situation utterly funny. I am going to hell, I just know it.

Better start saving for my kid' s therapy now.

I don't do Pig. Savy?

Over the holidays, the boy was invited to a classmate's birthday party. Before we can take the boy to such an event, we must have a certain discussion regarding hot dogs. What about hot dogs, you say? Let me tell a little story first.

A couple of months ago, my husband and his very good friend decided to take the kids to a Red Sox game in Toronto. On the way to the game, they pass a truck full of pigs. My very oblivious to the real world, huge animal loving but especially pig loving, 5 year old little boy says: " Hey Daddy, look! The farmer is taking the pigs out for a ride"

Before my husband could stop him, his friend blurts out " Their going for a drive all right, right to the butcher" or something like that.

That was the day the boy stopped eating pig.

We've discussed the fact that God put them on earth for a reason, even that cows and chickens suffer the same fate. The boy will not budge.

Instead, we've been coming up with some creative terms for pork.

The boy: Is this pig?

Me: Um, its, um tenderloin. Yup, tenderloin.

He will not be fooled.

Before the party, we go over the typical party rules. Be on your best behaviour, be polite and use manners, wash hands and eat WHATEVER they serve. We remind him its rude to say you don't like something or ask for something different.

We drop him off and hope for the best.

Three hours later, I arrive to pick him up. I am greeted by three lovely ladies, all wearing huge grins.

The first one calls for the boy to come.

The second tells me: " He didn't eat much. Says he usually eats Chicken Dogs. Mentioned something about pigs on a truck?" She is clearly amused by my pain.

Then the boy comes running around the corner, face painted like
this:


The third one tells me: "We gave him some root beer. He drank it all and told us he was drunk. " She then says to my son, " Show mommy your drunk dance."

There amidst all these strange women, my son mimics a drunk Johnny Depp a la Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Damn you Pirates of the Caribbean" I am muttering to myself as we hightail our asses outta there.

Wonder if he'll get invited to the next class party?

You give what to your kids?

While playing with their new gigantic play kitchen (thanks Nana and Papa) on Christmas Eve, the following conversation was overheard:

the girl: honey, would you like some wine

the boy: No thanks, I don't want that

the girl: What the hell am I supposed to do with it then? Guess I'll just give it to the kids.


Disclaimer: We do NOT give our kids wine. No matter what she says.

It's a Charlie Brown Christmas

We've been busy going to Christmas Parties, family gatherings, dance, soccer, tree hunting, gift shopping and the like. We've barely been home it seems and my house is starting to look neglected.

There is about 5 tons of laundry anxiously awaiting my attention. I have 5 million gifts to wrap as I have not yet wrapped a one. There are dust bunnies the size of our dog running amok, and the playroom is in desperate need of a cleaning BEFORE we are inundated with the new toys from Christmas. I've not sent one Christmas card out as I've yet to even address them. I still have at least four gifts to sew and I've baked NOT ONE friggin cookie. My kitchenaide mixer stands neglected on the counter.

We were even late getting our tree this year. (My fault, being sick again and all.) We finally dragged the kids to our local Christmas tree farm in search of the holy grail Christmas tree, which eluded us again this year. In years past, we've had some impressive trees. With a new much bigger house, we were excited to find a tree that would hit the ceiling and spread out like the Griswold's tree from Christmas Vacation. However, since we were late getting a tree, the pickings were slim. Anything taller them me, was a pathetic skinny Grinch looking thing.

We were getting frustrated, trudging through the mud, (me lugging 7 month old baby in a sling), trying to keep the boy from falling face first in the mud, removing the girls mud covered socks as she kept walking out of her rain boots. My husband throws in the towel and says we should just get one of the big pre cut trees they have for sale, for much more money. Then, there, in the middle of all these ugly squat charlie brown trees, the boy throws his arms around one particularly ugly tree and refuses to let go. This is the tree, his heart is set and he wants to help cut her down. He wants no part of a pre cut tree and will not have our Christmas tradition of cutting down our own thrown to the wind. We give in and cut her down the boy and his dad did.

Its a funny colour green, about 5 feet tall with rather large bare spots and a warped trunk.

At least our house smells great.

Egos,and Misses

Sunday, my son comes down the stairs, dressed to the nines for church, in a white button down, army green cords and a black tie with little white dogs all over it. He had his hair slicked down. Maybe, just a little too slick. He says to me, "Mommy, look, I did my hair myself. I sure look handsome today."

Apparently, confidence is not an issue in this family. Just ask my daughter.

A few months back, Grandpa said to her, "Such a pretty girl"

The girl - "There's no one prettier, Papa"

We are so in trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On friday, I picked the boy up from school. He has a birthday party to go to on Saturday for his one classmate. Another child, a favorite of the boy's, can not go.

The boy: Sarah is not coming. She's going to see Miss Asauga. But I don't know who she is.

Me: Um honey, Mississauga is a place near Toronto. Its not a person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Halloween is for the kids, afterall.

The girl started out as a faux fur, tiara, red wigged wearing Ariel, and she ended the night only wearing the mermaid outfit. The stroller was piled high with whatever she had discarded along the walk.

We let her loose on the unsuspecting goodwill neighbours handing out candy to the neighbour kids. I stood on the sidewalks, out of ear shot, to be certain NOT to be embarrassed by whatever came out of the girls mouth. However, at one neighbours house, who lives DIRECTLY across the street, she said, "This house smells STINKY", in her high, pitchy LOUD voice. I am not sure if the lady heard. I sure hope not.

The boy flapped his wings at anyone who paid him any bit of attention. Telling one and all he was a fruit bat. The brave boy he is refused to go near the two haunted houses that our in our neighbourhood. I dragged him into one. Told him to cowboy up, I did. You wonder why we've nicknamed this child Niles, (Fraser Cranes uptight little brother)


The baby, decked out in the boy's old Mickey Mouse costume, (I decided to save myself some time), just laid in his stroller and stared at all the sights. Not a single peep for the entire hour and a half we trick or treated. Nice.

All in all, it was a great night, not too bad weatherwise. Tons of cute costumes. I saw a little chicken and her parent was dressed at Colonel Sanders. Friggin cute. Tons of princesses and pirates.

Now its time to pack it all away again, store it under the stairs, where the spiders live, (In fear, Muahahahaah, http://toofrigginbusymj.blogspot.com/2006/10/halloween-preparations-and-spider-wars.html)

Happy Halloween!!

Halloween Preparations and Spider Wars

I braved the storage room under the stairs to drag out the boxes of Halloween decorations and costumes in preparation for our big Halloween Bash. I hate basements. Especially the storage area of one. While dragging out the crap, I spotted WAY too many free loading creepy n GROSS spiders hanging around down there. I took care of it with a rather large work boot, the buggers. Only good spider is a dead one. Or even a fake one. Fake I can do. Live I simply can not tolerate. Generally I DON'T do the squishing. I holler for my husband to take care of it. However, he has the nerve to work daily and leave me to fend for myself. It wasn't as simple as pick up boot and squish. There was a rather especially embarrassing moment of screaming and running from the storage room like my ass was on fire. I pondered my options, sucked it up and went back, large steel toe boot in hand, said a little prayer and frantically pounded the buggers to pulp. I felt much better.

Later that day, with the help of a great friend, the decorations are just about done. We have a fireplace now and its looks wicked all done up. We still have some things to put up as well as spreading the fake cobwebs over every inch of my house. That and the big grocery shop to get all the goodies.

Tomorrow night, we have an army of family and friends coming over to carve the gazillion pumpkins lining our front porch. This is a yearly event, as my kids are still little and need help with the carving. Then we roast the seeds. Yum! The only issue I have is the feeling of the pumpkin innards...freakin disgusting.


Our costumes are ready to go. The kids have been wearing them proudly. When I finished the girl's mermaid costume, I had her up on my sewing table. I put on her bright red wing and the tiara I made her.

Me: " There you go little girl, your all done"
The girl: "Mummy, call me ARIEL now. (in the snottiest tone all her three little years could muster)

The she snobbishly brushes her hair back and asks to be put on the floor. She struts off to model for the family members that were visiting. She too admonished them for not calling her Ariel. We live with a Diva.


The boy is a bat. I've tried to convince him he is a Vampire bat, but he keeps insiting he is a FRUIT bat. A FRUIT BAT!!! The rest of the boys are going to be Aliens, pirates or super hero's. My son is a Fruit Bat. Nice.
He is also convinced he can fly when in costume or hang upside down like a real bat. We've had some near misses and long conversations of how fake wings don't make a boy fly. EVER. Not off coffee tables, not off chairs, or even loft beds. Next year, nothing with wings.


Have a great Halloween Party weekend. I know we will.

Ziggy Zaggy Ziggy Zaggy Oi Oi Oi

Ein Prosit!!!

Happy Oktoberfest for those who think I've gone completely off my rocker.

Yes folks, I live in Oktoberfest hell. Our little Canadian city, becomes a drunken, ride programmed, sauerkraut laden little festival for about 10 days every October. Everyone we know who DOESN'T live here, wants to come and partake in the festivities. Everyone who DOES live here, hides away in their home until the lederhosen, dirndle wearing, feathered hat freaks leave.

Yes, its good for the economy, but its still a big pain in the ass. This does not mean that we don't enjoy a bit of it. We do take the kids to the yearly parade. We also have hats for the kids and collect the tacky pins.


Every thanksgiving Monday, we scurry around the house like mice and gather our gear. We want to be there fairly early this year, early enough to get our kids a front row spot. We succeed. After the parade has started, a pair of asshole parents with a kid of about 8 or 9, step in front the boy and the girl and lay out a blanket on the road, and crouch instead of sit and completely block my kids view. Ummm. Seriously? Do I have to ask you to move? Are you smoking sauerkraut? Who does that?

Our kids lasted only half way through, before the girl started screaming " I GOT TO GO PEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" We left...quickly.

Until next year.....