Because Nik said he wants an update...

Have you ever asked yourself why people do the things that they do? Someone might do something that you can't even fathom as rational or remotely sane and I often find myself trying to go through all the things that could have possibly gone through their heads to try and rationalize what they've done/said. Well, this morning at 7:30 our doorbell rang. I had one of those moments as I heard my husband talking with our neighbour. We're not usually awake at 7:30, up until a few weeks ago, all of our kids slept until about 8:30/9:00. So, I was wondering why someone would think that it would be ok to ring our doorbell at such an early time. We're also painting the outside of our house and so I convinced myself that neghbo-roo was coming over to yell at us for our colour choice. And, as I was laying in bed I had conjured up a little argument if you will, about how I had chosen these colours to compliment the neighborhood and how we were going to dress it up with adding some plants and stuff and stuff and stuff...it went on and on. But then I heard Nik say to the boys, "look at our car" (calmly and I might even say a little excitedly as he thought this was quite a treat for them to see).

It was then that my mind babble stopped. I had hoped that someone ran into our unsellable gas guzzler and we'd have a write off on our hands. But then I vaguely started to remember my dream of a car alarm going off. I remember thinking, "that's our car" but not being able to wake up....anyways, long story short, someone smashed into our car. Talk about feeling safe where you live. When I went out to look at the damage I was immediately thrust back into one of those 'what were they thinking' mental situations. I've deduced that the perpetrator was probably drunk or high because they didn't take the cash that was on the dash, or the gps or the satellite radio receiver.

The po-po man thought it was kind of funny.


and here's a few pictures because I learned how to resize the files from 10 MB to a normal size...thank you Steve.

all about {baby}

So for those of you who took the hint in the last post (so subtle, wouldn't you say?) we're expecting again! This was an interesting turn of events from where we thought we'd be about now because we thought that our road was leading us to adopt our next baby. We were in the midst of an 11 week course getting prepared for adopting and had filled in all of our papers. For some reason we felt God kind of shut that door for now and open another. I've always known that I wanted a big family and it appears that we're well on our way to just that.

Here's the lo-down: I'm 12 weeks today.
Due October 21st, so that means October 31st (I will let them induce at 10 days this time...no more crazy 14!)
We're not finding out the sex, don't even ask...haha inside joke for some
I've gained 2 pounds, which is a plus for me, I'm usually down about 10 by now
I was super sick and then was introduced to diclectin which has made all the difference in the world. Other than falling asleep at random times and places.

That's pretty much all the info I know right now, I have another appointment with the midwives in two weeks so hopefully we'll hear a heart beat for the first time!

I wish I could give a more intellectually substantial post, but my brain is mush. Literally. I can barely hold a sentence/though in a conversation. Nik usually gets annoyed with me, poor chap.

On our way...

We're on our way to Calgary...anyone want some photos done? :)

It occurred to me after reading my last post that many, if not all of you may think that I'm a horrible mother. Don't worry, I'm not. Those were two incidences that just so happened to be within a week of each other. Most of the time it's just chill...really. Trust me, if these were things that happened all of the time why on earth would I be having a fourth??? On (or around) October 21st????

Yes, they're mine.

The last week and a half have been all about parental mistakes. The first of which came when Nik was away. My beautiful, joyous, full-of-life, just turned- three year old decided to make a rainshower in our house. He had turned on the faucet and plugged the sink. It was 11 pm. I was just about to turn in. But the rain came down...and it wasn't a drip drip type of rain, it was a sploosh-splat-splat kind. The splat splats lasted a while. When I got up there I noticed it wasn't JUST the water he got into. But my make up and decided to give his sleeping older brother a make over.

I wish I had a picture. I decided that teaching him that this was dangerous and not a laughable moment was better off. But, I SO wish I had pictures.

We have a pretty sound proof house, in my defense. Nik got home, all was well. It was not even a week later and we were sitting on the couch at about 10:30 when I heard a bump in the night. Nik decided to go check it out....two seconds later he squawks down, "Dane, you might want to come here" This time, I came equipped with a camera. I rounded the corner to find two very guilty little boys holding their toothpaste covered cheeks. Turns out that Carson remembered that water and make up were a no-no, but decided that ANYTHING else open-able was totally OK. So, they had squeezed out face cream, tooth paste, spilled perfume and toner, squirted shampoo, conditioner and dumped vitamins and liquid tylenol all over the floor, walls, their hair and clothes. Again, a dangerous situation. Nothing at all to laugh about.

As I was telling a friend about these 'incidences', she looks at me as if I'm brand new to the whole mothering thing and says, "why don't you put a baby monitor in their room?". Seriously, I didn't even think of that. Parental mistake...monumental...I guess I am new to this whole thing. It's only been 4 years. That's pretty new if you ask me.

You're the Best

These past few weeks have been hazy. I would love to have a reason to write, and though I know I do, I can't put my finger on anything. I sit down, open my page and get frustrated because I just don't know where to start.

But today, I want to give a tribute to my Nik.

He lets me sleep in every morning, even on his days off. Seriously ladies in the world, I know how big of a treat this is, and I hope I never take it for granted. He makes suppers when I've been too lazy to and dang good ones at that. He understands when I'm feeling, totally non-understandable. He loves me unconditionally. Because if conditions had anything to do with it, he wouldn't love me. Trust me, I can be hard. He's the best dad to our boys that I could ever ask for. I see the twinkle in his eye when Chip cries at 11, just as we've snuggled down for the night because it's *his* chance to sit with him in the rocking chair and just be together. He came home from work at lunch to bring me the stroller and decided to take the middle son back with him. How's that for husband of the year. Oh, but I'm not done. He's chalk FULL of integrity. I'm so blessed that my kids have the kind of man to look up to that they do. He's the most gentle and patient man I've ever known. And if I can count on one hand the amount of times he's actually been mad at me in the almost 8 years since we've been an item, I'd be surprised.

Now, I know that you all have wonderful husband too, so why not? Tell us all about them too! And for anyone who's still looking for that someone, why not write about what you're dreaming for? Love. It's March...and I'm full into spring fling.

A month?!

Well, I guess it's better than nothing.

I wish I would have heard of this sooner. But go here if you want to end the spread of the word. The derogatory word that has been used for harm and I fear that it has become a slang for way too many things.

I have an aunt who is 45. She functions at about the same age as a 3 year old. She was born completely healthy and had a polio vaccination when she was about 11 months old which went awry and left her almost completely brain dead. She's made some progress in her 40 + years. I have fond memories of playing with Auntie Lisa as a little girl. Her favourite thing is to put on makeup and colour. I know she used to like beading too. I haven't seen her in probably close to 10 years because she lives in a home and my grandparents can't have her as much as they used to. I do miss her though. I think of her often. In fact, any time this word is said, I think of her. She doesn't belong to this word...and this word doesn't belong to her.

So again, go to the link above if you want to pledge to rid this world of such a distasteful and crass word.

To catch a mouse *EDIT*

Twas the night before today and all through the house
The only creature that was stirring, was our pesky little mouse

....named, Fargo.

Fargo showed himself a few weeks ago, and made a little nest...which we vacuumed up. This sent us immediately to the store to buy some traps. My darling husband bought two kinds just to be sure. But, it seems as if Fargo has been around the block and knows what a trap looks like. We have the sticky stuff and the traditional mouse trap.

Well, last night I was sitting at the computer hearing Fargo in the ceiling above me (he goes from the ceiling to behind the walls and into a very warm spot under our banquette). He scurried down the back wall and then there was nothing. I figured he was bringing more insulation to his warm zone to make another nest. But then.....SNAP....SQUEAK! I immediately got out of my chair and, being the brave soul that I am, called for help from the hubs. However, I soon discovered that my manly man, isn't so manly when a dead mouse is involved (it's ok, dear). So, in the end I ended up looking for the trap which was turned over, but I could still hear Fargo making some noise. So I closed the little door to let him get all his post traumatic squirmies out. After about 2 minutes (I figured that was long enough) I opened it up again to find the trap in the same position but upon closer inspection I could see that their was no mouse.

I grabbed the closest (and least needed for future use) thing that I could find that would be useful as a club and started pushing things around (we use it for storage). And then for a brief second, I saw him. He was a streak of blackness that went as fast as any really fast thing. So, now I'm convinced that Fargo is actually a RAT and that he's hobbling around with a broken leg and might die in our walls and then start rotting and then....maggots. My biggest fear in the world....so sell house, sell!


*Nik came home for lunch and lo and behold, Fargo has been caught! If only we thought of peanut butter from the beginning*