Raining on the inside

Mad MacGuyvering Skillz

It is raining in my house. Wait, what? Yes. It is also raining outside, but for that I can don a raincoat. Inside I have to sacrifice dish towels and rely on The Husband's mad MacGuyvering skillz. I know water torture generally involves dripping water on one's head, but lemme tell you the sound of water dripping in a bucket *near* one's head is pretty maddening.

Everyone calls contractors hoping for the best case scenario. Why do we set ourselves up for disappointment like that? "Oh, look. Here is the insignificant problem that can be addressed very quickly and for very little money," said no contractor ever. The roof, she is shot. Unless I want raining in my house to turn into snowing in my house in a matter of weeks, it's going to need replacement. Sure, I'll just pluck that money out of my trust fund and pay in cash. *sigh*

The leak in our roof is a nuisance. A frustrating, really expensive nuisance, but one that will be resolved in a few days. My thoughts are with those who have much bigger problems on your hands. I hope all returns to normal for you very soon. 

Stuff my kid says

Kids really do say the darndest things. I'm super busy at work which makes life at home a little extra hectic. Luckily there's kid tidbits like these to crack me up at the end of a long day:

1. "If you do not sing me a song, I am not going to sleep. Ever!"
2. Grampa: "You're a smart girl." The Parasite: "I know!"
3. Me: "Are you done dinner?" The Parasite: "Yes. But my belly says there is room for chocolate."
4. "Why can't you pause the TV?"
5. "I'm not a fan of napping."
6. "That kiss makes my heart so happy."
7.  "Can I go to <insert name of country she heard in passing> someday?" 

Got little people? How did they melt YOUR heart today?

Operation Momentum: Week 3 Update

I'm three weeks in to the second phase of gearing up to try again. Summer is over and life is back to its usual crazy pace. But lots of people are really busy, and not all of them are really unhealthy so I have to stop using that as an excuse. Here how things are going with the new goals:

1. Keep up the increased activity: I work on the 25th floor of an office building so I won't be forgoing elevators altogether, however I do use the stairs for meetings on a different floor and to and from the subway platform every day. I've figured out the work/commute issue by running home a couple of times a week. It's a pain in the ass to haul my gear in but two birds, one stone is really the only way for me to do it when a brisk walk at lunch isn't always possible. I joined an aquafit class, missed the first one due to sick kid induced exhaustion, the class was cancelled, and I'm missing the next one because I'll be out of town. So I'm batting 1000% on that one, but I *will* persevere.
2. Lose another 15 pounds by the end of the year: 33% complete!
3. Do something fun, as a family, outside, at least once a month. The Toronto Zoo may not be a strenuous activity, but you quickly learn there's A LOT of walking involved when you've got a 3 year old in tow. This is the second year in a row we've gone on Thanksgiving weekend. The weather is cool, the animals are active, the fall colours are magnificent. It's a tradition we hope to keep.

By Jove, I think I *can* manage this lifestyle change thing all the cool kids are talking about!

Sleeping like a baby

Whoever coined the phrase "sleeping like a baby" clearly did not have a baby. Babies sleep like shit, and so do their parents. But the parents of three year olds? Other than an earlier than desired wake up time once in a while, we often get to sleep like... I don't know, pick something that sleeps better than babies, i.e., any other creature on the planet. You get spoiled. That wonderful dreamland gives you a false sense of security, like this is how your life is going to be, forever and ever. Amen.

And then one day you go pick up your kid at daycare and she's sitting on the lap of one of the teachers, looking like one sad, sick little girl. You immediately make the call to go straight to the walk-in clinic where an ear infection is diagnosed. The doctor looks at you as though you're neglectful when you mention that said kid said her ear was hurting on Saturday but you decided to take a "wait and see" approach because there was no fever, leading you to believe it was the congestion of a cold leading to her discomfort. This same doctor looked at you like a hypochondriac last time you were there with the child and a sore ear, and scolded you saying you shouldn't bring her in unless there's a fever. There's just no pleasing that bitch. You want to tell her to take her condescension and shove it, but think better of it because you don't have the prescription in hand. What kind of example would that set for the child anyway?

A week goes by, the child recovers but the excitement of a long weekend further disrupts what you now laughingly call the sleep schedule. You look back wistfully at that time, lo one week and a few days ago, when you knew what it was like to have an uninterrupted night's sleep that did not abruptly end at the ass crack of dawn with a plaintive call for mommy. Then someone at work offhandedly mentions that they "slept like a baby" on the weekend, and you launch into a tirade remarkably similar to the one above, leaving them with a rather bewildered expression. "Sleeping like a baby," you mutter as you walk away. "What a crock of shit THAT is."