At the risk of sounding like I am patting myself on the back, I have to tell you, I think I have gotten some of the best deals of the year in the past couple of weeks.
My streak of luck began with a trip to the Osh Kosh store at the outlet mall near our home. I found a snowsuit for Rebekah for next winter on a clearance rack. It was marked down by 70%, and it was one of only a few left. All of the suits left on the rack happened to be size 3...it was my lucky day! It was a two piece, with separate coat and snow pants, and it was pink. Perfect. The regular price on the set was $85...way too steep for me, but with the 70% discount and the coupon I had received by email, I paid a grand total of $21 and change. You can't beat that deal!
A few days later, I was in Michael's in order to pick up some scrapbooking adhesive. While there, I got sucked into looking at all of the reduced Christmas merchandise by Rebekah who spotted the Christmas lights and started yelling.
Now, I have a bit of a diversion to share. Kevin and I have had the same Christmas tree since the college days. It is older than our marriage, and we just celebrated our 10th anniversary this past summer. The tree has seen its better days. It is barely 5 feet tall with the star, and every year it looses more and more of its needles. It is a sad little tree. Its only saving grace is that we have great ornaments that mask the fact that it is indeed such a sad little tree. Every year we say how we should buy a new tree after the holidays when they are discounted, but we never do. We just always have so many other ways to spend that money.
Fast forward to when I was standing in Michael's. I saw a beautiful Christmas tree on display. It was a 7.5 foot Madison Fir, pre-lit with over 800 lights, and 3100 tips. It retailed for $349....yikes! But, it was on clearance for $99. I hemmed and I hawed and finally I grabbed the ticket off the tree and took it up to the cashier.
She called to the back to get a stock person to bring it up to the front for me. The problem arose that there were no trees left, other than the display model, for which they didn't have a box. Hmmmm..... I asked if there was another box it would fit in, or how would they package it for me, if I still wanted to buy it?
The cashier spoke into the phone again, and came back with the info that the display trees were 90% off..........90% off the clearance price! Yes, you calculated that correctly.....the tree was $9.90! I said I would take it....I would figure out a way to get it home for that price!
Two stock boys ended up helping me fit the tree into enormous, clear garbage bags, and they hauled it to my car for me. When I got home, I backed into the garage and managed to haul it into the basement by myself.
I told Kevin that I found the deal...so now it is his problem. :)
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Mug Shot
The time has come to finally get a new passport for Rebekah. The photo on her current passport was taken when she was nine days old....I seriously don't even see the point. The photo looks nothing like her. It could be any little kid of the same approximate age.
I will never forget the day we had to get that photo taken. I have to warn you, I am about to go on a rant.
The Canadian passport system stinks. There are total inconsistencies to it. Whether or not your photo is accepted or rejected is completely subjective, and honestly, it often seems random to boot.
Kevin has actually had a photo of himself rejected when he mailed in an application because there was a supposed glare on his glasses. Neither of us could see the glare. On principal, he went into a passport office with the SAME photo, waited in the lengthy line, and the photo was accepted. Go figure.
Having said all of that, there is no slack cut for people who need photos of small children. The same strict guidelines apply. The subjects must be looking at the camera, neutral expression (not smiling or screaming), eyes open, mouth closed, and the ridiculous list goes on and on. Try getting a nine day old baby to meet that criteria!
We needed to get Bekah's passport, because we had to leave for Geneva in a matter of days. We had to pay the extra fee to have the application rushed because the moving date was approaching. The first photo we had taken was rejected because of "inconsistencies in the white background". The photographer had laid Rebekah on a white sheet (because she obviously couldn't sit up) and the wrinkles in the sheet were deemed unacceptable.
The second time around, we went to a photographer in the same building as the Canada Passport Office because they recommended him and we didn't have any more time to mess around and try and get the original photographer to retake the photo.
This photographer wanted us to hold the baby in an upright position, while supporting her head sufficiently, without allowing our hands or fingers to show on the head or neck at all. Good luck. First of all, she wouldn't even open her eyes. It was February, and we stripped her down to her diaper and paraded her in front of an open door in an attempt to wake her up. It was such an injustice! Then, once she opened her eyes, I couldn't support her sufficiently without my hand showing. Finally, Kevin was the one who was able to hold her for the magic photo.
Months and months later, we saw the photo of another Canadian baby's passport. It was taken when the child was about the same age as Rebekah had been, and I kid you not, when I tell you that you could very nearly see the father's whole hand supporting the baby's head in the photo. I wanted to scream.
Anyway, the process was a whole lot simpler this time around. This is the result.......
I will never forget the day we had to get that photo taken. I have to warn you, I am about to go on a rant.
The Canadian passport system stinks. There are total inconsistencies to it. Whether or not your photo is accepted or rejected is completely subjective, and honestly, it often seems random to boot.
Kevin has actually had a photo of himself rejected when he mailed in an application because there was a supposed glare on his glasses. Neither of us could see the glare. On principal, he went into a passport office with the SAME photo, waited in the lengthy line, and the photo was accepted. Go figure.
Having said all of that, there is no slack cut for people who need photos of small children. The same strict guidelines apply. The subjects must be looking at the camera, neutral expression (not smiling or screaming), eyes open, mouth closed, and the ridiculous list goes on and on. Try getting a nine day old baby to meet that criteria!
We needed to get Bekah's passport, because we had to leave for Geneva in a matter of days. We had to pay the extra fee to have the application rushed because the moving date was approaching. The first photo we had taken was rejected because of "inconsistencies in the white background". The photographer had laid Rebekah on a white sheet (because she obviously couldn't sit up) and the wrinkles in the sheet were deemed unacceptable.
The second time around, we went to a photographer in the same building as the Canada Passport Office because they recommended him and we didn't have any more time to mess around and try and get the original photographer to retake the photo.
This photographer wanted us to hold the baby in an upright position, while supporting her head sufficiently, without allowing our hands or fingers to show on the head or neck at all. Good luck. First of all, she wouldn't even open her eyes. It was February, and we stripped her down to her diaper and paraded her in front of an open door in an attempt to wake her up. It was such an injustice! Then, once she opened her eyes, I couldn't support her sufficiently without my hand showing. Finally, Kevin was the one who was able to hold her for the magic photo.
Months and months later, we saw the photo of another Canadian baby's passport. It was taken when the child was about the same age as Rebekah had been, and I kid you not, when I tell you that you could very nearly see the father's whole hand supporting the baby's head in the photo. I wanted to scream.
Anyway, the process was a whole lot simpler this time around. This is the result.......
I guess I shouldn't say it was a simpler process until I find out if the photo is accepted or rejected.....
Go Pats Go!
First things first....I have to admit that I am not a football fan. That is sacrilege when you live in the USA, it seems! It is even more of an infraction when you live in the general vicinity of Gillette Stadium, where the New England Patriots play!
Back before football season was in full swing, Kevin came home from work and told me that he had received two tickets to go to a pre-season New England Patriots game....it was in the Gillette box at Gillette Stadium. My reaction was...."Oh, are you going to take Noah?" He promptly informed me that you have to be 21 years of age to be in the box (which means I was just old enough to attend.....hehe) and so it was clear to me that I was expected to go. I wasn't thrilled.
I honestly had no idea how big of a deal it was. I also must admit that once we got there, I did enjoy myself. The food that was served in the box was amazing....some of the biggest shrimp I have ever seen! We even got a VIP tour which took us down to the side of the field while the Pats warmed up for the game. I used my cell phone to take some pics. :)
A perfect demonstration of how die hard some of the fans are.....
Back before football season was in full swing, Kevin came home from work and told me that he had received two tickets to go to a pre-season New England Patriots game....it was in the Gillette box at Gillette Stadium. My reaction was...."Oh, are you going to take Noah?" He promptly informed me that you have to be 21 years of age to be in the box (which means I was just old enough to attend.....hehe) and so it was clear to me that I was expected to go. I wasn't thrilled.
I honestly had no idea how big of a deal it was. I also must admit that once we got there, I did enjoy myself. The food that was served in the box was amazing....some of the biggest shrimp I have ever seen! We even got a VIP tour which took us down to the side of the field while the Pats warmed up for the game. I used my cell phone to take some pics. :)
A perfect demonstration of how die hard some of the fans are.....
This super duper large inflatable is named Pat....Pat the Patriot. He is inflated by our neighbours in the big, beautiful, green house with the expansive property every single time the Patriots play a game. He is then deflated and put away until the next game (at least they don't leave him up for the whole 16 week season!) Pat even has his own light so he can be seen clearly at night. :)
Rebekah loves seeing Pat, and affectionately calls him "the football giant". For the longest time she called him the "baseball giant" but we finally got that straightened around. She gets upset every time he is deflated, and excited every time he makes his reappearance.
I don't know what we are going to tell her when football season is done......
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Skater Boy
The kids started their new sessions of extra curricular activities last week. Noah is enrolled in swimming and a learn to skate program. Bekah is taking mommy and me swimming and dance classes at the YMCA. Things are really getting busy now!
I was a bit concerned about how the learn to skate program was going to go. Soccer wasn't so much of a hit in the fall, but Kevin and I have decided that we need to expose Noah to as many things as possible until he finds his 'thing'. You have to provide them with opportunities to try new things and succeed, right?!
So, off to skating we went! Noah had been on skates about 3 or 4 times before...and always with Kevin. These lessons are 50 minutes long! The first 20 minutes is instructional, and the last 1/2 hour is free skate. I had no idea how independent these kids were going to have to be! There were only 2 teachers for about 10 kids, so needless to say, they weren't hanging onto anything or anyone most of the time! They just had to figure it out.
One of several falls.......
Picking himself back up again.........
Success!!!
Noah surprised me...he lasted the whole 50 minutes and then asked if he could stay longer. Each day since, he has asked if he can go skating again.
It is interesting, but I think if one of us had been on the ice with him, this would have turned out totally differently. After the first couple of falls, I am sure he would have told us that he wanted to leave and it would have turned into a big meltdown when we refused. But, because we weren't there, he was forced to figure things out and keep going. There was no one else there to lend a hand, so he had no choice. As the hour progressed, Noah realized that he was actually doing pretty well, and he gained a bit of confidence.
It wasn't until the last 15 minutes that Noah even figured out where I was in the arena. Once he did, he hung out right next to where I stood by the boards. Each time he fell, I just laughed and shrugged my shoulders, and he would laugh and get up again.
Noah and his cutie pie friend, B.K. And they are both still smiling!!
I couldn't have been more proud of him. He has come so far.....
Amazing, Awesome, Butthead
One of the unfortunate side effects of having a child start school, seems to be the language that they learn from the other children while there. The 'thing' to do in kindergarten, at least amongst the boys it seems, is to use 'potty language', as I like to call it. Noah has started calling his sister names....this never occurred before the start of kindergarten. I am sure some of it went on in Geneva at his french school, but maybe he just didn't understand it! :)
The name calling seems to be centered around the subject of 'The Potty'. I am hearing things like 'poo poo head', 'pee pee head', and so on. The problem is, that before I was able to curb Noah of the nasty habit, Bekah has started mimicking the behaviour. Noah has improved, thanks to losing a lot of privileges, but Bekah has been very reluctant to my strategies. She thinks it is all very funny.
Bekah's language has ballooned in other ways too. She is using words like 'amazing' and 'awesome' in the appropriate context. It makes her seem so grown up! I can't help but do a double take whenever I hear her tell Noah that something was 'amazing'! Where has my baby gone?!
The problem is, that in the next breath, she calls me a 'butt head'. Sigh.....
The name calling seems to be centered around the subject of 'The Potty'. I am hearing things like 'poo poo head', 'pee pee head', and so on. The problem is, that before I was able to curb Noah of the nasty habit, Bekah has started mimicking the behaviour. Noah has improved, thanks to losing a lot of privileges, but Bekah has been very reluctant to my strategies. She thinks it is all very funny.
Bekah's language has ballooned in other ways too. She is using words like 'amazing' and 'awesome' in the appropriate context. It makes her seem so grown up! I can't help but do a double take whenever I hear her tell Noah that something was 'amazing'! Where has my baby gone?!
The problem is, that in the next breath, she calls me a 'butt head'. Sigh.....
Friday, December 21, 2007
A Quick Post...
I know I have been MIA lately.... The Christmas frenzy is upon us and I have been in mass production mode, making gifts, making cards (all hand made this year!), wrapping and packing, in between all of the other normal day to day stuff!
I hope to be back in the saddle soon, since I have so much to say! (no sarcastic comments, please)
I just wanted to post this message I got by email today. I just love it....it is so true!
I hope you all have a very blessed holiday!!
Dear Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor and sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground.
I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years. Here are my Christmas wishes: I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.
If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music, a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.
If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is calling and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always,
MOM...
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.
I hope to be back in the saddle soon, since I have so much to say! (no sarcastic comments, please)
I just wanted to post this message I got by email today. I just love it....it is so true!
I hope you all have a very blessed holiday!!
Dear Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor and sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground.
I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years. Here are my Christmas wishes: I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.
If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music, a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.
If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is calling and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always,
MOM...
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Why??
We have officially entered the 'why' stage with Rebekah. I had forgotten how exasperating it could be....and also how funny!
I have the perfect example for you. Yesterday we put up the Christmas tree. We have always had an artificial tree....I can't bring myself to cut down a living tree to have it in my house for just a few weeks. So after we had put up the tree, naturally, there were fake pine needles strewn throughout the house. This tree is old....and every year I think it is going to be its last....but it still keeps hanging on. I am surprised at how many needles it actually has left on its branches when I see how many I vacuum up every year!
So, as I was vacuuming, the 'why' questions began.
"Why are you vacuuming, Mommy?"
"Because there are pine needles everywhere."
"Why?"
"Because they fell off the Christmas tree."
"Why?"
"Because it happens every year."
"Why?"
"Because that is how the tree is made."
"Why?"
"Because it just IS!"
"Why?"
And then at that point, I either laugh or cry!
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