There is a reason why toddlers shouldn't wear white

Darling daughter was wearing this exact outfit when it happened: the soft cotton halter top lovingly hand knitted by me and white tights. It took two weeks for me to finish that halter top. After I was done I wanted to complete my vision of what the outfit must look like with white tights. After searching one day and coming up with nothing, I went back to searching the following day. That search party took me across the city and into an east end mall where I luckily spotted the last pair of white tights at a Children's Place store. And the clothing gods had blessed me as they were a size 24 months. Sweet!

Yesterday, we visited my grandmother. My grandmother taught me how to knit when I was nine. As my grandmother and a fellow knitter, I knew she'd appreciate my work. Darling daughter looked so cute in it. But a couple of hours later, I saw a dark spot on the bottom of her tights. I had my fingers crossed that it was black piece of fluff, but I knew my luck had likely come to the end of the road in the toddlers-wearing-white department.

I won't get into the gross details, but lets just say I had to deal with a blueberry poop explosion. I wasn't impressed that day of all days when she is wearing white tights that she'd just let it go. I swear that my kid and stains attract each other. Doesn't matter what she is wearing, what she is doing or where she is, in all likelihood she'll stain her clothes. I should start buying shares in OxyClean.

Determined to keep the tights white and stain-free, I quickly went to work with the materials on hand. Soap did nothing, so I was forced to get out a bit of bleach. Once we got home, I sprayed them (well, more like doused them) with OxyClean. Right now, I'm hoping for the best.

The moral of the story is that no matter how hard you try or hope, white tights will likely not stay white for long.

Photo Wednesday

Dear readers, I'm sure you are wondering how this beaten up, downtrodden laundry basket is this week's Photo Wednesday photo. But there is a story behind this laundry basket. Four years ago, I saved it from the landfill as my grandmother was ready to chuck it out, along with its two siblings. The laundry baskets were done, she reasoned. They had a good life. They had served her well since she bought them back in 1984. (Yes, 1984. I remember the year well). But I saw a glimmer of life left in these baskets and I rescued them.

They have been serving me well for the last four years, but this one is starting to show its age. Dear husband has been quietly hinting that I should take it to the curb and say goodbye. But I can't. This is one of the best laundry baskets ever. Yes, it is falling apart. Yes, it is cracked in several different places. But its cracked side hugs to my body when I haul it up and downstairs. I know the time will come to say goodbye, but I hope to get a couple of more years out of it. Who can say they own a 26 year old laundry basket?

The Grrlfriend Market Bag: a great way to lift spirits of others as well as your own

My love affair with cotton yarn continues as I've been busy knitting up a storm with the stuff. In the last week, I've finished three waffle dishcloths and two Grrlfriend Market Bags. If you aren't familiar with the Grrlfriend Market Bag, I suggest you check it out on Ravelry if you are a member. The bag is knitted in one piece, starting with the square bottom (I even got the hang of magic looping the bottom) and then the lace body. It is really quite simple and easy to make.

The bag is designed by Laura Spradlin of Sugar Bunny Boulevard and there is a lovely story behind the creation of the bag. Six months before designing this pattern, Laura became the recipient of a sweater, given to her by a friend. The sweater belonged to the friend's ex-husband. She hoped Laura could recycle the sweater into something else.

Laura inspiration for the bag's design came from a random act of knitting challenge issued by a blogger, asking her readers to knit something for another person who needed a lift in their life. She soon remembered she had the sweater in her possession. Soon the yarn was unraveled, dyed and the bag was created. It was soon presented in its new form to her Laura's friend who gave her the sweater. In her pattern, Laura writes about the bag, "We help to lighten each other's load. We strive to share the burdens of life and aid in the purging whatever might be weighing each other down by replacing it with something that lifts us up."

In total, the sweater made three bags. Laura has been kind enough to share this bag with the world by making the pattern free. All she asks that bags made from this pattern never be sold for profit or as part of a kit.

I'll be making more of these bags, in hot pink. (Details on my hot pink knitting projects will be discussed in a future post). I love these bags. This bag is specifically for darling daughter's sand toys. I could have made it in brown, but I love the colour of this green variegated yarn. It reminds me of my early childhood. It reminds me of the green roof of my grandparent's log house, the green work uniforms my grandfather religiously wore, the green cushions at my grandparent's summer trailer, their green shag carpet (hey, it was the 70s) and the green leafy trees that once shaded my childhood home.

Happy knitting! I hope you enjoy this wonderful market bag pattern as much as I do and that you are able not only to lift the spirits of a friend, but your own through the knitting of one of these bags.

Disconnecting from the social network

Last week, Facebook announced it hit the 500 million user mark, meaning one in 14 people world-wide use the social networking site.

I didn’t read this piece of news on Facebook. Instead, I read it on a newspaper website. For more than six weeks, I've been living a Facebook-free life. Other than dear husband and a close childhood friend, I don’t know many Facebook-free people. But we are out there. And as an ex-Facebooker, I feel free.

Three months ago, I blogged about making a Facebook compromise. I closed down my big Facebook account in favour of creating a much smaller account for family and friends. But the old Facebook addiction beast soon reared its ugly digital head. I had to block everyone from my news feed so I wouldn’t be addicted to my news feed anymore. But after a month I started wondering what was the point of having a smaller account? I was still checking my account frequently to see if people commented on my status, sent me a message, commented on my photos or my posts. I was addicted to the instant gratification of the comments of my friends. Things hadn’t changed, despite having a smaller account.

Seven weeks ago today, I announced to all my friends and family I was leaving Facebook once and for all and they could reach me by good ol’ telephone or email. Four days later I shut down my accounts. It was easier than I thought it would be. It only took three days before I was fully enjoying a Facebook-free life.

Like I’ve said before, Facebook doesn’t it make it easy to leave. You have to submit a request to Facebook to permanently delete your account, and which takes two weeks to process. In my case it was two accounts. Ironically, I had to reactivate my old account to ask Facebook to delete it.

Leaving Facebook isn't for everyone. At first, I wondered if I could do it as I had invested three years living my life, in part, on Facebook. But after I hit the delete button, I've been loving my new Facebook-free life. Life seems simpler. No status to update. No photos to post. No items to comment on. I had forgotten what life was like before Facebook. And I like it.

Photo Wednesday

I discovered this scene in darling daughter's booster seat earlier this week. I absolutely had no hand in this. Apparently it was breakfast time for darling daughter's puppy. I'm assuming the reason the face cloth is on the puppy's face is a proactive move on darling daughter's part to keep his face clean during the eating process.

For those who are having earwig issues, this post is for you!

Since last week's central air fiasco that cost me a $216.53 repair bill, it has been all out war on earwigs. I'm unsure if the war is being won, because I've seen a lot less of them since I discovered about 10 to 15 of them living under my deep freezer. (So, so gross when I discovered them. Luckily, I was wearing my sandals and I started stomping. Ugh. So gross).

Well, I'm not alone in my hatred of them. I posted a thread on a local online moms group I belong to and I got several responses in regards to possible elimination solutions.

*Avon Skin-so-Soft. Apparently the little buggers don't like it. Spray around entrance ways as a way to deter unwanted house guests.

* Mix sugar, Borax and water in a spray bottle and start spraying in areas where you suspect earwigs.

* Beer traps. No one likes wasting premium beer on earwigs, so buy the cheap stuff. Dig small holes in your garden and place a container of beer. Like bees to honey, you will attract earwigs. To make even more elaborate traps, use veggie and soup cans. Remember to leave the labels on to help the earwigs get a better grip. Better yet, use a plastic container with a lid. Cut horizontal slits about one inch from the bottom and about one-eighth of an inch wide and fill with oil.

* Line entrance ways (example: door entrances, window panes) with dish soap. In the morning, prepare to spray your front steps clear with your water hose of dead earwigs.

* Oregano is reportedly to work to deter earwigs. Sprinkle in areas where earwigs are known to frequent.

* And of course, my all-time favourite remedy: the bottom of your shoe.

Sell, sell, sell! Everything must GO!

I'm not much of a salesperson, but lately I've been in full sales mode.

I'm cleaning out darling daughter's closet. All baby items and related baby gear must go. I don't have the room to store it anymore. Plus, we've pretty much decided that we won't be expanding our family any time soon, if ever.

Selling stuff online isn't as easy as it looks. It takes a lot of time to gather up items, take photos, price and post on various websites. The work doesn't end once items are posted. Dealing with inquiries and arranging pick up times, I'm finding, is the most time consuming. Although some potential buyers may show interest, four times out of five, you'll never hear from them again. I'm new to the online sales game, but I do have some tips for those who may be considering going down this avenue.

* Photos do work. Photos of the actual item are likely the best. Yes, it is time consuming to take photos of your items, but people want to see what you are selling.

* If it comes from a smoke and pet-free home, state it in the ad description. It is a selling feature.

* Price reasonably, but not outrageously. Although I do price my items reasonably, prepare to bargain. Many times, people will ask below the selling price. You may want to price items with bit of a bargaining cushion.

* Don't give out your address right away. Like I said before, I'm finding that four times out of five inquiries I get, I won't get a response back. I only give out my address once we've agreed on a date and pick up time. If you aren't comfortable giving out an address, meet in a public place. If a potential buyer is coming over to your house make sure someone else is home with you at the time they arrive.

* Have items handy at the front door before potential buyers arrive. This will make transactions go quicker and easier. You also may consider having change ready, just in case you have to provide change.

* Since online selling is a bit like fishing, don't be afraid to negotiate with various interested buyers on one item. The whole purpose of the exercise is to get the item sold and out of the house.

* Get leads from friends. I won't lie: selling through online classified listings can be frustrating and time consuming. Ask friends, acquaintances and even buyers that you've had positive experiences with in the past if they have any leads of people who may be in need of the items you are selling. You never know, you may get lucky.

* Creating a new email account directly for dealing with online inquiries may be a great idea as all inquiries will be in one place, not mixed up with your personal emails.

Mindless (but functional) knitting

This week has been kind of hellish. But thankfully, it is over. Throughout it all, I've tried to keep my hands busy with knitting. I feel good when I keep my hands busy. I'm now to the point that if I don't have a big knitting project going on, I almost feel a bit lost. But this week I needed a break from any heavy duty knitting projects. I needed something light and easy because that's all my brain can handle this week.

Since it is now watermelon season and darling daughter loves watermelon, I'm running out of bibs. I can't keep enough clean. This bib pattern is super easy. I got it from a mom acquaintance, who got the pattern from a 365 day knitting calendar she was given as a gift. I've made darling daughter several bibs from this pattern. Like I said, it is super easy pattern. It is so easy that I can remember it from memory. Plus, it is easy on the brain.

In less than a week, I've made three bibs and a dishcloth. Super easy. My kind of summertime knitting.

How one earwig cost me $216.53

The following is a true story how one measly earwig cost me $216.53.

Yesterday, I found the house hot, very hot. It wasn't until 5:30 p.m. when I discovered the fan was on, but the central air unit wasn't. In the heat, my tolerance level is zilch, especially in the light of the fact we spent a fair bit a money two months ago in replacing our central air with a new unit. The breaker wasn't tripped, so we decided to call in a repair man.

At this point, I took my livid and angry self outside (where I discovered to my chagrin that it was much cooler outside than in my house) into the air condition glory of my Matrix and drove to an appointment. By this time, dear husband had called the heating and cooling company. The technician told him the call would be free if it was a technical issue. But we'd have to pay if, let's say, an earwig had clogged one one the parts.

When dear husband told me this little gem of information over the phone while I was waiting for my appointment to start, my livid and angry levels increased ten fold. Instantly, I knew it wasn't a technical problem. I 99.9 per cent knew that an earwig had did something and we'd be forking over some serious cash to get this problem fix. For the last week I've launched a full-on attack on earwigs. Usually, to keep my karma in check, I will go out of my way to shoo flies, ants and spiders out of the house. Not earwigs. I've got absolutely no love for earwigs. They usually meet the bottom of my shoe before I clean up their remains and flush them down the toilet. In my experience, never turn your back on an earwig. Those damn things come back to life. Always flush them down the toilet to ensure they are dead.

The other night I killed six of them with a construction level. (It was the only thing that I had handy at the time when I encountered them). Perhaps, that's when karma decided to kick me in the butt. Perhaps one of their brothers or sisters decided to seek its revenge on me by crawling into the contractor coil and clogging it. It must have been a kamikaze earwig as it died in the process.

So now it is all out war. No sympathy whatsoever will be given to any earwig that crosses my path. It will definitely meet the end of my shoe. Due to Ontario's pesticide ban, my options are limited in getting rid of the suckers. According to the nice staff member I encountered at the Home Depot, beer can help. Apparently the little buggers love beer. But it in a container with a lid resting on top of it, the earwigs will go in for the bait (beer) and drown in the process.

My aunt, who is having problems with earwigs, says spraying a solution of soapy water can help deter and kill them. At this point, I'm willing to give anything a try because my foot can't be everywhere in squashing them.

Yes, I may sound cruel. One may argue, they are just earwigs. They harm no one. However, they are damn gross and I can't have them in my house. Plus, one of them cost me a $216.53. And unless they want to reimburse me for the repair bill I now have, the war will continue.

Photo Wednesday

This week I have another tower creation to show the world. This time, it is made out of alphabet blocks and animal pieces from Darling Daughter's Melissa and Doug's farm puzzle. I thought I'd take a quick photo of it before it got knocked over.

The Hills: an end of a pop culture era

After six seasons, The Hills comes to an end on MTV tonight.

The reality show has been a guilty pleasure of mine on and off for the last four years since the show first aired. And during my The Hills TV watching, I've wondered several times what the hell I'm doing and if any of my brain cells have been lost in the process. Let's face it, The Hills isn't exactly quality television. But it is riveting. The continuing drama involving Lauren, Heidi, Spencer and alike always sucked me back in, despite my efforts to stay away and watch the evening news. After the show was over, I had to stay tuned in as The After Show hosts, Dan Levy and Jessi Cruickshank analyzed and broke down that night's episode. With their humour and ability as straight shooters, I dare say that The After Show was almost better than the actual Hills episodes.

But after our heroine Lauren left the show, The Hills hasn't been the same. Other than Heidi's plastic surgery controversy, the revelation that Spencer has an obsession with crystals, and the dragged out romance between Brody and Kristin, the show not been doing much of anything of late, not going anywhere, just simply existing. (To reliving the good old days, visit Entertainment Weekly's photo review of the 12 game changing moments that have happened on the show during the last six seasons).

So goodbye to Jessi, Dan, Lauren, Kristin, Audrina, Lo, Speidi, Justin Bobby, Brody, Frankie and the rest of the gang. It has been a good four years, but all good things have to come to an end. See you in reruns.

Food for thought

It has been one of those days where I've been questioning myself as a mother, particularly a stay-at-home-mom.

I've got a headache. It's summer. I don't deal with heat well. Darling daughter didn't nap at all yesterday and didn't get to bed at 10 p.m. and this afternoon she didn't nap as long as she should have. I could say all those things were working against me today, or the simple fact that it is "one of those days," but whatever is going on, I think I need to sit down and start giving things some serious consideration.

I've been home for the last two years. They have gone incredibly fast. But lately I have started entertaining the ideal of returning to work. To do what, I haven't a clue. Returning to journalism is not realistic because quite frankly the profession isn't all that family friendly. On the car ride home from visiting family, I was reading a story in an old Reader's Digest my grandmother gave me about a man recounting his experiences as a husband and journalist. He wrote about the long hours and how it took a toll on his family. I remember those long hours vividly. I don't miss them.

Being a mother is the hardest jobs I ever had. I'm not too sure if the return-to-work thoughts I'm entertaining have to do with the toughness of the job or the fact that I want to return to work. I realize the grass isn't necessarily greener on the other side, but I think I may be missing something. Today, I was so happy to see dear husband walk through the front door, 10 minutes early. So I'll be giving this more thought.

It is too hot to fight over the radio

In the last week, darling daughter and I have been fighting over the radio.

I'm a news radio junkie. I may not necessarily agree what the commentators are discussing, but I feel by listening to news radio I have some connection to the outside world. Some days, listening to an adult voice makes me feel sane. Recently, I blogged about darling daughter's love for Johnny Cash. Yes, she loves Johnny Cash. Although Johnny Cash doesn't exactly rock my boat, I do enjoy some of his songs. We've been listening to our one and only Johnny Cash CD for more than a month now and I'm getting tired of listening to his ballads about Folsom Prison and being a boy named Sue.

However, I can't touch the button to change the CD player over to AM radio without darling daughter screaming "song, song." Some times I try to push the envelope, so to speak, but saying, "Mommy wants to listen to talk radio." Doesn't work. "Song, song" soon becomes "SONG, SONG" and then the tears come between her insistence that we listen to Johnny Cash. I've tried to change it while she's napping in her car seat, but she'll wake up and groggily say, "song, song." Quite frankly, she is becoming a dictator when it comes to the radio.

But this week it is simply too hot to fight over the radio. So I continue to listen to Johnny Cash. If this is going to be the reality, then I better invest in a new Johnny Cash CD. There are only so many times a girl can listen to Get Rhythm before it starts to drive her bonkers.

Photo Wednesday

This week's photo is of tower building. Or in this case, tower rebuilding. One of the new activities darling daughter and dear husband have been doing in recent weeks is building towers and knocking them over. They have great fun.

Too hot to run (or is it?)

According to dear husband, it is definitely too hot to run. His plan of getting up at 5:30 a.m. this morning for an early morning run went bust when darling daughter woke up at 5 a.m. After tending to her, he reset the alarm clock because he figured it would be too hot to run.

Me, on the other hand, have ran the last two nights. But they have not been long distances. It was tolerable Sunday night. Barely tolerable, I should add. I really dragged my butt on that run. I was not so much fun last night. I had to wait until 9:15 p.m. before running. And since I didn't want to run far from home because it was dark, I ran laps around two crescents in my neighbourhood. I greatly appreciate the efforts of one neighbour in his attempt to keep his front lawn green with a sprinkler. It was nice to have the sprinkling of water on me, even if it was for a brief moment.

So dear husband is firm that he won't be running in this heat wave. And who can blame him? Me, on the other hand, is still considering running tonight. We shall see.

Edited to add: Yes, it was too hot. (And it still is). I didn't end up running.

Too hot to blog

Is it fall yet?

I'm sitting in my living room with the lights off. I should really turn up (or is it down) the air conditioner to cool off the house a bit more, but I'm too lazy to get off my chair. After going to the park this morning (and it was H-O-T) and finishing lunch, I'm ready for a siesta. But I'm covered in sunscreen and sand so I really should take a quick shower and sweep up the sand we trekked into the house.

I think the heat is doing something to my brain. I fell off the park bench this morning because I thought there was more seat than there actually was. I've got a bit of a headache and I can't come up with anything remotely witty to blog about. Luckily my brain is allowing me to string together some half decent logical sentences together.

I realize it is summer, but I'm not a fan of heat waves. I'm not too sure what we'll be doing this afternoon. It may be just too hot to play outside. So keep cool, dear readers. Do whatever you have to do to keep cool, even if that means heading to the mall. Tomorrow is going to be hot, too. *Sigh* Come February I'll be dreaming about this weather, but now I'm cursing it.

Canada Day toddler style

Sometimes you just can't relive good times, despite how good that first experience was.

Today, we packed up the Step 2 wagon with food, water, toys, sunscreen, a blanket and other miscellaneous items and headed to a local park for Canada Day celebrations. Last year we had a great time. But the difference from last year to this year is that we had a 11 month old baby last Canada Day. Now our baby with a walking, talking almost two-year-old who has a whole mind of her own.

Last year, we spent the afternoon watching live entertainment on a large hill, soaking up the sun. Darling daughter spent most of her time in the stroller. This year we tried to do the same, but sans stroller. She is very anti-stroller these days as she spends most of her time in the wagon.

I must say that darling daughter was so sweet and so good during our outing. She was dancing to the songs being sung during the sound check. She was waving her Canada flag. She was laughing, She was smiling. But she is a toddler and as such she is a very curious being. Staying on the picnic blanket and enjoying the sun wasn't her idea of fun. She wanted to dance, she wanted to walk and, more importantly, she wanted to explore.

Dear husband took her exploring twice. On one of their adventures they ran in a nearby field so she could blow off steam. When they returned from their second adventure, dear husband looked tired. Darling daughter on the other hand was raring to go, ready for another exploration trip. That's when we decided to head home. The idea that both me and dear husband had of reliving last year's fun, but relaxing experience had come to an end. We realize next year that there is no way we will spending most of our time on a picnic blanket, enjoying live music and sun. We'll be hitting up the midway or the splash pad, instead. I know one day we will get to enjoy Canada Day on a picnic blanket, but it will likely be years from now. And that's fine by me. Today was a good reminder that you got to roll what your toddler wants to do.