Sorry for being so quiet.
There are lots of things bouncing around in my head, things I'd love to tell you and hear your thoughts about, but every time I sit down to tell you about it my mind sort of wanders and I can't seem to keep it tied down long enough to extract anything meaningful from it. I'm so glad that ADD "didn't exist" when I was a kid.
So, instead of committing myself to one well constructed, well thought out post steeped in perspective and philosophy (not that any of my posts could be described as such), I'm going to give you a real live, real time look inside my brain by dumping its scattered, confused contents right here on the page for you to pick through. Here goes...enjoy.
Why do moms on mom blogs swear so much (myself definitely included) and why is it so funny?
Two things. I have a potty mouth. I've had it for a long time - roughly since that time in Grade 7 or so when two of my best friends and I decided to have a swearing contest in our yearbooks. I'm used to them, and now I can't use them. Except when my daughter's not around, and when it comes to surfing the internet, it's safe to say she's not around. Until one day, probably around Grade 7 when she figures out I've been talking about her behind her back and she uncovers more than a decade of dirt on her spread out for the world to see, at which point genetics will take over and she will inherit her very own potty mouth. Hooray! As to why it's so funny: they're moms. Saying ridiculous things like asshat. Picture your mom doing it. That's why it's funny.
Apparently my favourite colour is not yellow.
If you ask me, I'll tell you that my favourite colour is yellow, and it's been that way for at least a couple of decades. Favourite colour? Yellow. No question. Sure, I like lots of other colours too - green is awesome, blue is pretty freaking great, and though I denied it for years pink is the bomb too. There's a really perfect shade of purply-pink that sends me all a-flutter and could possibly be my favourite colour too, if not for the surprising discovery that my favourite colour is actually red.
So it would seem.
I keep trying to decorate my house. It keeps backfiring because I just can't find the time/money/taste to complete any of the tasks I start. The latest undertaking has been our guest room/office. I found a blog online written by a husband and wife team who are documenting all of their DIY projects as they decorate their homes (they did it with the first, and have recently moved and are doing it all again...insanity). In their first house, they had a room that was a guest room/office/playroom and was almost the exact dimensions and layout of the room I'm trying to overhaul. I got super excited and planned the whole thing out (sort of a half-assed plan, admittedly) and went straight to IKEA. I bought all kinds of decorative goodies and brought them home, giddy with excitement. Then I realized that I was still lacking the two pivotal pieces required to actually designate the room as a guest room OR office (that being a sofa bed and a two-person desk), which resulted me piling all of my purchases on top of the existing desk and completely ignoring the room for approximately two weeks. WHERE AM I GOING WITH THIS??? Oh yes. So I figured out a fun pink and blue colour scheme based on having a pink chair pad for my office chair and a blue chair pad for J's. Cute, right? Also, I bought pink bins to go in an existing shelving unit and a sofa cushion with the same pink and blue to tie it together. And then I realized, just like I've realized in every room I've tackled so far, that it's really just an exercise in futility to fight the red. Already in the exisitng shelving unit? Red drawers. The massage table that will also be in the room? Red. The picture frame and push-pin board on the wall? Red and red. My daughter's room? Red and green. The living room? Red kids table and chair, red play kitchen, red toy bin, red and green playhouse. The kitchen? Red Kitchen-Aid stand mixer, tea towels and crockery. Do people still use the word crockery? It's just all very red. Hm. Who knew?
My husband's "accent" has been passed on to our daughter.
People have always asked J where he is from and why he has an accent. He's from Toronto. I don't hear any accent, but he does talk funny. Not across the board, mind you,. just certain words. Iron. He says I-RON instead of I-URN. Pants/Exam. The "a" is like it sounds in "math", not in...well, "pants" or "exam". God forbid he needed to iron his pants before an exam...snicker. And not only that, he has somehow made it well into adulthood with some serious misconceptions about common phrasing. Example: All the sudden. "I was walking down the hall and ALL THE SUDDEN a bear jumped out at me!" Weird, right? All the sudden, our daughter's behaviour doesn't seem so strange after all (see what I did there?). For no reason I can fathom, J wasted no time "correcting" (read: killing) E's super-awesome butchering of "aren't I?" with "amn't I?" It still makes me sad to talk about it. At least the girl cheese is safe. For now.
But I don't think I can blame the funny talking for this...
In the last couple of weeks E has, on several occasions, described something as happening "when I was pregnant with you". Read: when my daughter, E, was pregnant with me, her mom. I'm just not sure what to do with that.