Encroaching on my territory

Dear husband is sick. He decided to stay home today and keep his germs to himself. God bless him. I hope he is well enough to go to work tomorrow because he is encroaching on my territory.

For whatever reason when dear husband is sick from work, it feels really weird when he is home. I've got no problem when he is home during the weekend. In fact, I love the weekends, especially Sundays as he dedicates this day to watching football. I take that time to do errands, go to the gym or read a book. But when he was home during a weekday, it just feels plain weird. But to be fair, he is sick and was in no shape to go to work today.

And to make things worse, darling daughter refused to nap today. REFUSED. There was tears, tears and more tears. After several separate attempts by dear husband and I, we had to abort all nap plans. Although it was manageable between the two of us, there was no countdown to 5 p.m. to look forward to because dear husband was already home. So basically we had to watch our poor congested, red eye rimmed baby, who desperately needed a nap, walk around the living room all day, playing with her toys. At least she was in a relatively good mood. But having darling daughter skip her nap time made for a long day.

So hopefully dear husband's germs disappear tomorrow, allowing him to go back to work tomorrow. I've come to the conclusion between the hours of 8 a.m. at 5 p.m., Monday to Friday, the house is my territory. And maybe it is just me being weird, but I don't like anyone encroaching on my territory during these time periods. Not even my husband, despite the fact I love him to death. I'm not too sure what we'd do if we ever won the lottery. I guess one of us would be working for fun.

Giving thanks

Right now I'm feeling a bit down so I thought I'd count my Thanksgiving blessings not only to cheer me up, but to remind me how rich and blessed I am to have the life I have.

So in no particular order (and although some are trivial), here I go:

* Darling daughter. I'm so blessed to have her. She is my walking, talking miracle.
* Dear husband. I couldn't have asked for a better husband and man to walk hand in hand in with in this topsy turvy world.
* Good and dear friends. You know who you are and I thank you so much for your friendship.
* A roof over my head.
* Food in my tummy.
* The freedom to do what I want, when I want.
* My doctor's office. It is so reassuring to call and get an appointment that day and not be told to go to the emergency room.
* My library card. I've saved tonnes of money over the last couple of months by borrowing books from the Ottawa Public Library.
* My gym membership card. It is always good to exercise and get out of the house at the same time.
* My health. I've really got nothing to complain about.
* Laundry facilities. It would really be hard not to have a washer and dryer in the house.
* Our car. It gives me freedom.
* My next door neighbour who picks up our mail when we leave to visit family.
* My family.
* Clean water.
* A soft bed to sleep in.
* Dear husband's job.
* The Internet. I'd be lost without it.

I ate you so you wouldn't tempt me

Oh peanut butter, you are too much of a temptation to have in the house.

I love peanut butter. I especially love peanut butter on buttered English muffins. If I could eat peanut butter and English muffins all day, I'd be a happy girl. Yum. And when I'm in the mood to jazz it up a bit, I sprinkle chocolate chips on top. Yum, yum!

My love for peanut butter started when I was pregnant with darling daughter. When you have gestational diabetes and the thought of eating meat makes you almost physically sick, you have to look for protein alternatives. And peanut butter was the main alternative. I don't know how many jars I went through during the third trimester. Maybe three or four. At the time I thought my peanut butter addiction was a pregnancy thing, that my addiction to peanut butter would wane after the baby came. But that wasn't the case. I kept on eating peanut butter. But after awhile I came to the conclusion if that I wanted to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans I'd have to cutback on my peanut butter intake as it wasn't really helping the cause.

I've been pretty good over the last couple of months. But sometimes I get the urge and I go out and buy peanut butter. I bought this jar after spotting it on a shelf at a convenience store.

Tonight I was having another craving for buttered English muffins and peanut butter. I couldn't deny my grumbling stomach anymore, so I took a peek inside of the jar. There wasn't much of the yummy goodness left inside the jar. After thinking about it for a brief moment, I reasoned if I ate the rest of the peanut butter there would be any left to tempt me anymore. Out of sight, out of mind, I concluded.

Minus the chocolate chips, I indulged. It was good. And now I don't have any peanut butter left. Let's hope the chocolate chip cookies I made last week that are stashed away in the deep freezer don't call my name any time soon. I don't need a new addiction.

No one wants to play in cigarette butts

Excuse me for the following rant, but I've got to get this off my chest.

I live in a condo/townhouse development. One thing I have had to learn to tolerate since moving here more than three years ago is cigarette smoke. Most people seem to smoke outside of their homes rather than inside. I totally understand as people don't want to expose their children, loved ones, pets, furniture and belongings to second hand smoke.

I can usually smell it when I have the windows open. As a result, I'll shut my windows as I don't want my child, dear husband, furniture and belongings exposed to second hand smoke.

This afternoon when I was preparing dinner (that should be a post in itself as I hate to cook) I could smell cigarette smoke. At first, I thought it was my next door neighbour, but when I looked out into the parking lot, I didn't see her car, so it wasn't her. Minutes later, I could still smell smoke. When I looked beyond the parking lot and into the playground I spotted the culprits: two parents. They were swinging on the swings, enjoying their cigarettes.

This really bothers me. In Ontario, it is illegal to smoke inside a vehicle with children. It should be a no brainer not to smoke with such small passengers in a car, but it seems we live in a day and age when you have to legislate common sense. Some municipalities already have bylaws prohibiting parents from lighting up at playgrounds and sports fields. I'm not too sure if Ottawa has such a bylaw, but it wouldn't matter anyway as the playground in question is on private property.

The smell didn't bother me as I shut my windows. But what did bother me is the fact that the neighbourhood children will come across ashes and cigarette butts while playing, which is a disgusting image when you think about it. I don't think any parent wants to see their children playing in cigarette butts, even those who are smokers. Sometimes I wish people would use their common sense and have some respect for others. If you got to smoke, don't smoke at a playground. Thanks.

Fun in Montreal

Sometimes it is good to wear something else other than Lululemon and go outside of your comfort zone.

This past weekend I went to Montreal with friends. It is important to note that we all went sans baby. All our babies were safe and sound with our respective dear husbands. And it was fun. We took the train, shopped on Saint Catherine Street, dressed up, ate a delicious meal, had a couple of drinks and went to a 80s bar. And most importantly, we had tonnes of fun.

It was the first time I had been away from darling daughter for more than eight hours. And I did much better than expected. In fact, I felt a bit guilty when I came home last night as I basically dropped off my luggage, spent some time with darling daughter and then headed to book club. (I love book club. I don't like to miss a meeting.) However, we are making up for lost time today.

So yes, it was a fun weekend with the girls. I still have Pump Up the Volume stuck in my head. (One of the many songs we danced to at Club Electric Avenue. I think I even spotted a Andrew McCarthy look-a-like dancing to Madonna's Vogue. . . ) It was good to get away. I'm still tired, but it is all worth it as who knows the next time we will be able to do that again.

Boo for 1:30 a.m. wake up calls

Right now I'm trying to wipe the bleariness from my eyes because I am so tired. Last night I had an encounter with the Twilight Zone so to speak as darling daughter decided at 1:30 a.m. that sleeping is for chumps and she wasn't having any of it. When her shrill cries woke me up from a deep sleep, I thought it was morning. It is hard to tell these days between morning and the middle of the night as both look the same: dark. I sighed in frustration when 1:30 blinked back at me on the digital TV box. Good God, I thought to myself, why now? Too early.

I thought a quick diaper change would be the cure all, but I was wrong. For three hours she was up. I haven't had an experience like that since she was about seven weeks old. And it was painful. How quickly the mind forgets was a sleepless night is like.

We tried everything. Dear husband tried to rock her asleep. We turned her Orbusforme sound machine on. We patted her back. We put her in a sleeper in case she was chilly. We changed her diaper and we even tried letting her sleep with us. About 4:30 a.m. she gave into blessed sleep. It only lasted for about two hours though. As soon as dear husband shut the front door on his way to work, she was up. Argh! Although she slept for another hour, it was a restless sleep.

So obviously from last night's escapades, I'm not in the greatest of moods. I've got a headache. I'm tired as well as a tad bit grumpy. The hour long nap darling daughter had this morning wasn't long enough as she is now whining I do believe for a nap.

I'm not too sure what caused last night's brief sleep strike. Maybe she is teething. (In this household we seem to blame teething for episodes like this). Maybe she was chilly. All I know is that I'd like this not to happen again as 1:30 a.m. is way too early for a wake up call.

I will excuse myself now as I'm going to put my cranky daughter down for a nap and take heed of that age old advice of sleeping when the baby sleeps.

Fast food censorship?

Yesterday I finally got around to washing darling daughter's toy food in anticipation of getting her downstairs play room ready. Months ago, I had purchased a Little Tykes toy kitchen off Kijiji. It was a great deal and it even came with toy food. While I was washing the food, I noticed the set came a hot dog, French fries, ice cream cones, potato chips and donuts, all of which is considered junk food.

As I was sorting the food items, I started wondering if I should toss them in with the fruit and vegetables that I had just washed. Instead I set them aside, unsure what to do with them. In this day and age of child obesity, should kids play with toy hot dogs and ice cream? Or is the idea of censoring these toys from the toy box a bit over the top?

I turned to Google for answers to see what others were saying about the subject. Unfortunately, after five minutes of searching, I didn't find much useful information. I did find one website that focuses on promoting healthy food choices for children that stated that parents should take out items that they don't approve of, such as cola bottles and junk food with brand names.

I realize there has been an ongoing debate surrounding children and toy guns. Toy guns were once considered a typical childhood toys. Remember Ralphie asking for an official Red Ryder carbine action BB gun in the 1983 classic movie, A Christmas Story? And subsequently being told by his mother, teacher and Santa Claus that "You'll shoot your eye out." As a kid, my own brother had his own BB gun. So did some of his friends. But times change and some parents are reluctant to let their children play with these toys in the wake of increase violence and school shootings.

So is toy junk food the new toy gun? Or am I making a mole hill out of a mountain? I honestly don't know. Right now I've stuck the "controversial" items in a plastic Ziplock bag, while I think more about the subject. I already know the French fries will eventually hit the garbage can as darling daughter could easily shove one up her nose or poke some unsuspecting play mate in the eye since they are so narrow and pointy.

If anyone has any thoughts on the subject, feel free to leave a comment. I'd really like to hear what other parents think about the subject.