Some Days There Are No Words...

...To describe being a parent. I don't mean in a 'it's so magical that I just cannot describe it' sort of way either. More of an 'They simply haven't invented a word bad enough to describe this feeling' kind of way. Don't get me wrong now, I adore my children. But whoever coined the phrase 'You may not always like your kids, but you'll always love them' was dead on. I'm not so much liking them right this second. Love 'em to death, like, not so much.

*Sigh*

This all actually happened yesterday, but I couldn't blog about it because I was too busy going between cleaning up and trying to decide whether running away from home would just be easier. Then I remembered Mr. Pretties cannot dress the girls. They'd end up going to preschool in pink pants and orange and blue stripped shirts. Not to mention he probably wouldn't even remember to brush their hair, let alone haul out the corkered ribbons 45 seconds before going out the door and assembling an amazing hair clippie work of art in record time. What kind of life would they have without me? I just couldn't allow them to find out, it would be too horrific. Clearly.

I believe their personal agendas were like so (please keep in mind I was either in the bathroom, in the laundry room, or, in one instance with marker, sitting right beside them - I should've been concerned with their quietness...):

1. Give Cookie Monster a bath. In the bathroom sink. Which will over flow, dripping excessive water into the basement. - Check

2. Scale the gate to the kitchen, the one into Mommy's bedroom, climb onto tall dresser, obtain very sticky bum cream. - Check

3. Climb onto long dresser, apply bum cream liberally to entire mirror, wall, and stereo surfaces.- Check

4. Climb onto couch, then onto cabinet, then onto mantel and retrieve forbidden markers out of hard to open container. - Check

5. Proceeed to colour eachother orange in our entirety.- Check, and Check (there are two of them)

6. Hear Mommy say she's going to bath us, try to help out by putting LLP in bathroom sink and washing her, overflowing said sink and dripping water into basement. Again. - Check

7. Scream like a vicious raccoon while getting orange marker washed out of hair. Make sure the neighbours are a little concerned. - Check

8. Scale kitchen baby gate. Again. Climb onto counter. - Double Check

9. Remove all tupperware, sippy cups, and steak knives from said cupboard.- Check

10. Try to pour ourselves some milk from the pitcher. I'm sure we can handle it! - Check

11. Poor said milk all over clean kitchen floor that's no longer so clean. Make sure it's the last bag (I am Canadian, my milk comes in a bag) - Check

12. Remove all DVDs from cabinet, and then remove them from the cases.- Check

13. Throw all small toys into toilet, along with soap. Right after pooping in potty - Check

MmmHmm.... A days work well done. For them. I mostly wanted to ground myself to my room. And stay there. Forever. Or, atleast until they move out.

Who is this child and where is her mommy???

(This is right after bath time, thus, no clothing)
This is LLP at Pre-PreSchool, she's not always bad...

It's A Bird, It's a Plane, It's a Bat, It's a...

Mr. Pretties and I had the following discussion this morning in the car on the way to the store:

Mr. Pretties: Oh yeah I forgot to show you something I saw this morning!
Me: Oh yeah? What is it??
Mr. Pretties: A bat, up in our tree.
Me: Wow, really?! A bat? Why didn't you wake me up?!
Mr. Pretties: Wake you up? hahahah I don't think so.
Me: Why? For a bat I would definitely get up! Are you sure it's a bat?
Mr. Pretties: Would I mention it if I wasn't?
Me: Hmm... was it furry? Did it have it's little arms wrapped around it's body? Was it hanging upside down??
Mr. Pretties: I should hope so...
Me: Wow, that's so cool. Let's turn around and go home now...
Mr. Pretties: No. We need groceries, it'll be there when we get home.
Me: Groceries... who needs groceries?! Do you think I could pick it up? I mean I know they have rabies and stuff but wouldn't it be worth it? Then I'd have a rabies shot and wouldn't have to worry when I pick up strange animals...*secretly envisioning walking around with my new pet bat on my shoulder...*
Mr. Pretties: You're sick. There is definitely something wrong with you...

*We Arrive Home*

After seeing two pig heads for sale at the grocery store I had sort of put my bat excitement on the back burner. Honestly, who eats pig's head, and why?! It was so sad to see their little sad piggy faces wrapped in seran :(

Mr. Pretties: Come on LBP, want to see a bat
Me: Oh yeah! Is it still there? I'm coming to see it!
Mr. Pretties: Uh... could you finish changing LLP's bum first? I mean you're kind of in the middle of it already...
Me: Yeah, so? It'll still be here... fine!

*I finish diaper duty, grab my camera, my memory card, my first aid kit for when I pretend to be the Crocodile Hunter and climb the tree to get it, the phone so Mr. Pretties can dial 911, and dash outside*

Me:Where is it?? Is it still there??
Mr. Pretties: Yup, rigghhttt uppppp there...


*Silence*

Me: Uhh... I'm pretty sure that's a clump of dead leaves...
Mr. Pretties: Oh no, it's definitely a bat!
Me: Mr. Pretties, I'm fairly sure that's just some crusty old leaves...
Mr. Pretties: It can't be!

*I throw a rock up at the 'bat' and funny enough, dead leaves come down. Uh huh.

Mr. Pretties: Oh. It was just leaves. Nevermind...
Me: *Big Sigh* I'm so disappointed...Dead leaves... honestly...

I guess so...

31 For 21

Today marks the first day of '21 for 31' to raise awareness about Down Syndrome. Now that doesn't mean I'm going to be blogging about Downs, it just means that I have to make sure I post a post every. single. day. Now those who follow the blog know I have good intentions, but am not always so good at the daily blogging. I will do it this month though. I will also try to make sure they are quality posts too, none of that 'Today is Wednesday... ' garbage, I'll make sure I have something to talk about. Even if that means I have to go looking for drama.

This isn't even my post for today, nope this is just so you know what's up and that I can't get the 31 for 21 button to work in my side bar. Somedays Blogger just gives me so much attitude I could smack it! If smacking inanimate objects didn't have the men with the white suits peaking around the corner...

So now you know what I'm up to, if you want to join 31 for 21 you can do so here, everyone is welcome and it's not too late! I bet you could even sign up tomorrow as long as you posted two posts... Just sayin...

I Wrote An Angry Complainy Email...

... I'm not usually the type of person to complain about customer service, I mostly don't care. I hate those people who are all 'Let's complain and see what we can get for free...' I've worked in Children's retail (okay, retail in general, who am I kidding?) and I know how that goes. Now first I think there are seven simple rules customers should follow:

1. Don't be rude to the sales associate for greeting you, telling you about current promotions, and offering a hand. It's their job, don't shoot the messenger.

2. Please don't unfold an entire table of t-shirts looking for a size. It takes a long time to fold those puppies and if you ask someone will be more than happy to grab a size for you, thus not ruining someone's hard work.

3. If you try clothing on, please bring it back out with you. If that sounds like too much work, atleast turn it back right side out and put it in a pile off the floor. This isn't your Mama's house and a pile of messy clothes on the floor is most not appreciated.

4. Please keep your children out of the display windows. We supply drawing tables and toys for their enjoyment. If you cannot control their window impulses please don't get bent out of shape when the promotion sign falls on their head because they kept punching it in the window. Secretly we're all laughing and are glad something is keeping your goober in line. Even if it is an inanimate object.

5. Please don't be that purchase-return-repeat customer. It is not cool to make large purchases, allow you children to pick out their items, wear them at home, and then bring the whole slew back. The sales associates will know you by name and have a serious hate-on for you. We understand returns happen, but not like this.

6. If you're the above customer please don't complain to head office about lack of customer service when the associates choose to help other customers in the store who actually need help, before you. Everyone knows you'll be returning and doesn't want to waste their customer assistance on you.

7. So not enter any stores 5-10 minutes before closing and then proceed to stay in the store 30+ minutes after closing. It is unacceptable reguardless of your reasoning. These people have families they want to go home to and you're stopping them from doing that. They are not enjoying your presence (even if it appears that way) they have to let you stay in the store and be friendly. GO HOME. There are atleast 12 shopping hours a day, fit one of them into your busy schedule and let the poor people go home!

So, if everyone just follow those rules the world would be a better place. This is where sales associates get their crappy customer attitudes from. It's by no means an excuse, but I'm sure it would help morality if people followed those simple rules.

So while I was pregnant and hormonal (read: very hormonal) I bought a sleeper for the LBP and the first time I washed it (on gental, in cold) the pictures peeled off. I was livid. Seriously, I was ready to blow. Over a cheapy sleeper. Did I mention I wasn't pleasant to live with in the last month of my pregnancy? I so wasn't... I was so mad I couldn't sleep until I wrote the company an email letting them know how annoyed I was. I never heard back from them and assumed they were jerks. I'm good like that. This morning I received a package from said company containing a three pack of sleepers, a three pack of hats, a bib, and $40 worth of free coupons. Oh. My. God. Can I tell you how bad I felt for complaining?! So bad infact that I emailed them and thanked them and asked if I could send some of it back! I feel like such a jerk! But that was amazing customer service.

Again, while pregnancy and hormonal I went into a popular kids chain store and received the worst customer service. Ever. No one acknowledged me for the hour we spent there. They asked me to move out of the way so they could fold shirts. The cashier threw my purchase at me and didn't even acknowledge me while I was paying for it. Rude. Rude. Rude. From my inside experience in Children's Retail this was not good. If I were a mystery shopper some jobs would be lost. I was livid yet again (I seriously don't have anger problems, I promise!) and tried to forget about it for a few days. After a few days I was still livid. I wrote an email. I received a call from their DM the next day apologizing for their crappy service. That was good! Today while I was getting my package out of the mail I also received an envi. It had three 25% off vouchers for this store and a hand written card from the DM apologizing again. While the vouchers were nice, the card was an excellent touch. It really shows that they care and took the time to make things right and acknowledge the problem. But, again, I felt SO bad for complaining. I emailed them and thanked them for their kindness and apologized for being such a snot. I hate Pregnant-Jenn, she's nasty. Now Post-Pregnant-Jenn has to go around apologizing to everyone on her behalf. It's not fair, I'd like to kick my own rear-end!

So I got free stuff in the mail today, and I feel like crap about it. I apologized to companies with bad customer service and offered to send stuff back because it was too much. I think maybe there's something wrong with me...

In addition my cat caught a baby mouse this morning. I took said mouse away from the cat, wrapped it in a blanket, put it in a warm shoe box on my dryer and have been syringe feeding it all afternoon. There's a funny farm somewhere with my name on it... If someone finds it let me know!

I Have A New Hero...

... And she lives at BeTasseled. My new favorite blog. Seriously. I am so giddy that I found this tutorial I feel like calling Mr. Pretties at work and requesting he come home immediately so I can go to the fabric store and purchase some most excellent fringe. I could so very easily develope a fab fringe fetish. Mmm... I'm kind of getting that rolling around in a pile of sweet, sweet fringe need again, you know, like with the ribbon pile... I'll resist though, because, again, I am not a cat. That doesn't mean I don't wish I were right now...

Anyways... now that my weirdness has reared it's bizarre little head again let's take a look, shall we? She makes these adorable tassels like this:

And like this:

And she was even sweet enough to make a tassel tutorial with step-by-step instructions on how to create your own tantilizing tassel! How great is that? Talk about sharing the wealth! How much do you love that?!

I lurve me some tassels, and that blog actually. I could eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner with a little tassel pie on the side! Yumilicious!

Now if you're not into the DIY scene Nester makes some amazing tassels too and sells them at her Etsy shop that you can reach via her blog. You have to move fast though, they're a hot commodity! She also has a great post today about all the many, many uses of a tassel to pretty a place up, so if you're not sure why you'd ever want a tassel, let alone need head on over and check it out!

A Pumpkin Patch, A Corn Silo, And A Sliced Finger...

... Now you're asking yourself 'But Jenn, what do all three of those have in common?' Good question, I myself wouldn't have seen the connection either if I hadn't had to experience all three today.

We made the mistake of attempting family time again. I know, I know, why I haven't I learned my lesson? Doesn't something traumatic happen every time we try this? The answers would be: No, but I should and Yes, yes it does. I'll have to check the local fall recreation book and see if there's a 'Family time for Dummies' course offered in the evenings...

So Mr. Pretties and I (Most I) decided it would be a brilliant idea to take the pretties to a pumpkin patch on farm that also has all sorts of fun fall activities such as hay pyramids to jump in, a wagon ride to the pumpkin patch, a boo-barn, petting zoo, bouncing ball track, John Deer trike track, inflatable train relay, and an old silo full of yellow balls.

The farm likes to refer to these as 'corn'. (corn in a silo? Huh? A little Corny?) In theory this is a great idea. But, in theory I didn't imagine the inside of this old silo to be very musty, very hot, very dark, and very, very scary. No I didn't. BLP was horrified that I thought this was an acceptable thing to do. LLP was right in there, no questions asked. Honestly, she has no fear. 'What's that mommy, you want me to climb inside this dark tower and jump in these questionable yellow balls everyone keeps trying to tell me is corn? Sure thing!'

After BLP realized LLP wasn't about to be consumed by the corn monster she was all over it too. Who knew filling a musty old silo with yellow rubber balls could supply me with hours of endless entertainment? Who ever thought that one up is a genius. Clearly.

The afternoon progressed seamlessly. At this point I should have known we were about to experience the dropping of the other shoe. We had done the play area, the jumping ball track (you know those big balls with the handles that you sit on and jump? Yeah? Apparently I suck at doing that), the trike track, the wagon ride to the pumpkin patch, the corn maze (I'm all scraped up from the corn, btw) and the swings. We skipped the boo-barn, really no point in borrowing trouble. In fact I think we'd like to get into the lending trouble business, but we'll save that discussion for another post... So the sun was all shiny, the temperature was perfect, The Little Boy Person was a happy camper, and I remembered to bring my camera and an extra set of batteries! Yes! I took lots of pictures, like a mommy should. We even did those wooden boards with face holes cut out of them, I was a chicken and a horse. They didn't have a donkey so Mr. Pretties couldn't participate. Just kidding... sort of... So all was well with the world when the kids decided to hang out at the playground there. Sounds like the safest thing we did all afternoon, no? There was an old tractor in the playground (a real one) for kids to sit on and pretend to drive. My mommy instincts originally said 'What the... that might not be such a brilliant idea...' but before my brain could complete the thought (My thought processing factory is running a little slow) the BLP was sitting on it driving off into the imaginary corn fields. What's a mom to do? Well, apparently she's to grab her camera and take pictures (since she was already on it there was no point missing out on a cute picture opportunity c'mon!). I snapped a couple and then grabbed LLP to sit beside her to take their pictures together. BLP was having nothing to do with this duo picture situation and decided she was leaving. I believe the phrasing was 'Dats it! I'm weaving!' Whatever. As she was getting down she starting freaking out. Now you have to understand the BLP to understand why I wasn't immediately over there to see what was up. BLP freaks out about everything. Every. Single. Thing. As far as I knew she was upset that the sand was beige that day instead of white, it totally wouldn't have been uncommon for her. So I tell her she's fine and continue to snap LLPs picture on the tractor. BLP then comes over to me crying about a 'boo-boo' and shows me her thumb. Holy bleeding gash Batman! Blood does not bother me, in fact I enjoy playing doctor and bandaging gory 'boo-boos'. Seriously. But this was not pretty. It was a huge crescent shaped gash across her thumb. I immediately saw flashing images of us making out first trip to the hospital for stitches. Great. I grabbed the LBP's blanket and wrapped her thumb in it, applying pressure for the next 15 minutes. Partially to stop the bleeding, bigger partially because I didn't want to have to look at it again and make the important stitches decision. Maybe at this point you're asking 'But Jenn, why couldn't Mr. Pretties do that?' In response I would have to say 'Ahahahah ahahahha right...' As much as I don't 'do' anything poop related besides diapers (ie. poop body painting, no...) Mr. Pretties does not do important child decisions. At. All. I'm okay with that.

So after the gash incident BLP wanted to go back and play on the tractor (hello?!) I bandaged her finger with a band aid since it could do a better job applying pressure than I could, and let her go off for a half hour. I checked the boo-boo situation when we got home and it had stopped gushing blood, look like a nice clean cut with an excellent flap and decided it would be just fine without stitches. She's also up to date on her tetanus vaccine so we don't even have to visit that horror either! I almost feel like we cheated a potentially traumatic experience and I am SO thankful. BLP + Stitches + Tetanus Shot = Mommy sitting in a corner crying like a baby.

So what lesson did we learn today? If I think it's a great idea, it probably isn't. No more playing on old farm equipment, and if push comes to shove choose the boo-barn over old farm equipment to appease children.

PS: I am hating the cupcakes. Seriously. They make me want to gag everytime I open the page. I'll be changing this. Again. ERRR.

Facelifting...

... sort of like weight lifting but a lot less extensive and a ton more annoying. I'm trying to cute-ify the blog. As of yesterday I've managed to completely lose the blog twice, find the blog but couldn't edit anything/sign in/etc, got some god awful brown background stuck on it, lose all of my gadgets and widgets (including my counter! Damn it!), froze my computer, and, finally, found a cupcake background that I like. For now.

So, if you stop by and the blog looks butt, it's probably a mistake because I don't know what I'm doing, but, I like to pretend that I do. Now, that's not to be mistaken with being wrong, as we know I am not. Not having a clue and being wrong are entirely different things... just go with me on this one...

Pro Star Mommy... Check..

... As part of my trying to be a pro star parent and failing miserably at becoming a member of the board of directors for BLP's school, I decided to stick with my idea about taking LLP and LBP to Kiddie Kastle (drop in centre) on Thursdays while BLP is at preschool. The fact that I stuck with that plan is plenty reason enough for an award I'd say. But, not only did we do Kiddie Kastle, we had a play date! My. God. I'm not really a play dates kind of mom... it's just not my 'thing' but I've been trying. Mostly I've failed. For some reason people see me and automatically think I'm a bit.. err... less than friendly person. I'm totally not. I'm just shy. How lame is that? I believe having children has taken away my ability to remember how to behave and talk to people who aren't three and under... or... maybe I just hadn't found the right group of moms? Yes, let's blame the other moms, that's mature. But I think I found a pretty cool group of moms this morning! Sweet! Their kids are the same age as mine, they're all super sweet and cute (I do not throw the 'C' *that would be cute, get your head out of the gutter! Honestly!* word around a lot with other kids either, I'm sort of more of an animal person... but that's a whole 'nother post) and their mom's all seemed crazy nice and normal! I'm all about normal. Perhaps that's because I so totally lack normality myself that I need my friends to be? That seems logical.

But the important thing here is that I actually enjoyed myself! Well, accept for the part when BLP wouldn't help during clean up time, and when she wouldn't sit for story time, and when she went around with a rubber snake during story time hissing at people... and when she didn't want to wash her hands for snack time... and when she wouldn't eat her snack at snack time... and when she painted the floor during free play time...and when I had to drag her out of Kiddie Kastle kicking and screaming and then proceeded to do the stiff board routine which resulted in my having to karate chop her to get her in her seat to go pick up BLP from preschool... Wait, did I say I enjoyed myself? Huh. It's amazing what constitutes as a good time now a days...

I actually can't wait to do it next week! I'm in desperate need of a BFF so this seems to be the best way to search that out... I could take out an ad on Kijiji, but that just seems, I don't know, a whole lot lame? This way I can pretend I'm a normal, yet slightly stalkerish, and a little bit snotty looking mom at a play date with her kids, and if someone wants to be my BFF I guess I could try it out...

Meanwhile we get home and LLP shows the BLP her leaf painting. Their conversation is as follows:

LLP: Look BLP I pwaint a weaf at baby goo (school)
BLP: Wow... dats a nice weaf LLP! Daddy, you see LLP's weaf? It's pwitty!
LLP: Tank oo BLP!
BLP: Good job LLP, dats a weel good weaf! We hang dis on da fridge ok?
LLP: Ok BLP!

They're so cute sometimes. I love it when they're nice to eachother, you know, since it happens so seldom... the teenage years are going to be hell... Unless! We could move to that state in the US where you can utilize the 'safe haven' law until your kids are 19... Hmm... that just might work!

Searching Out Mr. Pretties' Mom's Birth Family...

... remember that most excellent box of old photo albums Mr. Pretties brought home last week? Well it also contained Mr. Pretties' Mom's adoption information which we'd sort of forgot about. Mr. Pretties isn't sure he wants to pursue any of it, but, you know me I'm all about it.

I don't know which is more interesting to me, the search and destroy... err... rescue aspect or, the actual mystery family aspect. Hmm... does anyone really need more inlaws? Actually I only have sister-in-law/brother-in-law and I think I've been pretty fortunate with them, maybe that's a sign that I need some. Unfortunately Mr. Pretties' mom passed away of cancer in 2003 so she can no longer pursue this adventure with me, although she had been actively searching for her six known siblings since 1991 and had made some fairly impressive headway including meeting one brother and corresponding with a sister.

I don't think MPM (Mr. Pretties' Mom, okay?) story is a typical adoption scenario. Or maybe it is, I'm no adoption expert here... Her birth mother ended up having seven children in twelve years and gave them all up for adoption between newborn & 2 years of age. Her and her husband(s) didn't keep any of them for various reasons. I don't believe these children all have the same father either. So this wasn't one or two children put up for adoption due to finances, etc... or a whole gaggle of kids put up for adoption at the same time due to circumstances, this was just sort of bizarre. Get married, get pregnant several times, have a few babies, put them up for adoption asap, repeat... I believe there were three husbands, so three different groupings of children... Wow...

I just happened to type in MPM's birth surnames in Google (Let me take this time to tell you, honestly, I could happily marry Google.) and the first result to show up was another lady looking for her father's family from this same union! Awesome! I was so friggen stoked I couldn't type fast enough, and if that weren't enough the stinkin' website made me create an extensive account before it would let me proceed with my message. That was a big exercise in patients... which I already knew I didn't have... her last message was posted in 2005 and she last visited it in Nov/07 so she could very well have a different email address/contact info and I just couldn't take that chance. So... I did what any rational yet slightly stalkerish person would do. I emailed her from the website. I messaged her from the website. I replied to her post on the website. I checked out her user profile which happened to have her real name in it, so, I looked her up on Facebook ;) I then proceeded to message every single person with that name (very common name) asking them if they were this lady. I got it right on the second tried! We're going to speaking on the weekend,or, I guess she'll be speaking with Mr. Pretties... yeah... since this is his family and all and I'm just being nosey... sometimes I get too involved in things, can you tell? Everyone's just lucky Mr. Pretties doesn't come home from work tonight to me having a cup of tea with his birth cousin on my back porch. I've been known to interfere like that.

I really wanted to include pictures in this post, I was even going to test out my picture of picture photography skills but I'm not sure how Mr. Pretties and his sister would feel about this stuff being plastered all over a public blog... So just imagine some really cool adoption paper pictures, some correspondance, and me stalking someone on Facebook :)

So Long...

Farewell old friend...

The Buick clocked out with 277,807 km on it. This it's last ride:

That was the Buick being hauled far, far away from a local dealership ;) It was actually a bitter sweet moment. We all know I'm a weiner and I feel sorry for everything. As predicted I actually felt sad for the Buick. It was sort of like putting a faithful, but very annoying, poorly behaved pet to sleep. It was the right thing to do, but I still feel sad. That's weird, eh? Yeah, thought so too...

Here's a small admission to go along with this video. Ready? Okay.

*I picked out the Buick and I made Mr. Pretties buy it three years ago. I promoted a trade from a 6 year old mint condition Honda with 71,000km on it for an 8 year old Buick with 190,000km on it.*

Whew. I feel so much better now that I got that off my chest! So, the Buick saga was really all my fault. I guess that was an example of the .111% of the time that I'm wrong. And when I'm wrong, I'm very, very wrong. Hey, if you're going to do something go all the way, right? Sure. We'll go with that...

Do You Ever Want To Just Beat Yourself?

Me too. Like right this second. Followed by a swift and forceful beating for Mr. Pretties.

The Kijiji deal fell through because the new owner didn't want to pay for it until the end of next month... Uh... No... So Mr. Pretties had the brother-in-law come and haul it away to the scrap yard and we got $250 for it. Super.

Now, remember that Kijiji ad? That funny one? Yeah. I just had a call that a teacher from a mechanics school wanted to pay the full $1500 for it to use it as a class project and then sell the finished product to a student... frig me! And here I am 'Uh... sorry my husband sold it for scrap lastnight... but it's all good, we didn't need your $1500 anyway...'

I Digress...

Remember that big bag of 'I Told You So', it's friend the bag of 'You're Going To Regret This', and, let's not forget, the ever smaller but equally significant bag of 'You Suck'? Yes? Excellent.

Let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time... there was a man named Mr. Pretties. Mr. Pretties tried so hard at everything he did, but no matter how hard he tried to make it work it always blew up in his face...It became a sort of joke between him and Mrs. Pretties... And....

I TOLD YOU SO I TOLD YOU SO I TOLD YOU SO I TOLD YOU SO!!!

(This is not Mr. Pretties, but there will be one, not to worry)

I'm happy to annouce the Buick will be layed to rest this weekend. After unearthing yet another amazing animal immitation that would cost $400 to repair and make the Buick driveable yesterday, Mr. Pretties finally saw the light and he performed the ancient 'removing-of-the-plates' ceremony, followed by the ever important 'phoning-the-insurance-company-and-having-the-insurance-transferred-to-the-NEW-vehicle' ceremony. We cleaned out the trunk. We cleaned out the glove box. We brought out the sledge hamm... er... no we didn't. We were going to. Until I received an email lastnight letting me know that someone wanted to buy the Buick. For $500. I said no thanks. NOT. Someone wants to pay me to make take the Buick away? Giddy up!

I kid you not, I went ahead and posted the 'For Sale: Buick' ad on Kijiji just for shits and giggles. I posted it exactly as I did here, infact, I may have made it sound worse just to be totally upfront and honest that this car is crap, not to be confused with something that's not crap. When I received this email I could not type the words 'It's yours!' fast enough. Infact... now that I think about it, I may have actually type 'Tits hours'... rriigghhttt... let's hope not, and if I did, hypothetically, type that, let's hope he speaks the lingo and knows I meant he could have the car... MmmKay? It's new owner is supposed to come this weekend to haul it far, far away.

Now, let's just say this deal falls through (even though we all know nothing ever falls through on Kijiji...), then we will definitely be breaking out the hammer before we have it towed to go to the big parking lot in the sky.

Good God, I hope the Big Parking Lot in The Sky doesn't work anything like the Rainbow Bridge... I will be seriously unhappy if, when I die, after I finish collecting my personal Noah's Ark at the Rainbow Bridge, I then have to make a pit stop at the Parking Lot In The Sky to claim the Buick... Oh no, that is just too awful for consideration, let's just stop talking about that right now...

***Have I ever told you guys that I love comments? Perhaps I haven't been adament about this... I really, really love getting comments. It lets me know people are out there and are reading (Other than my ticker, but that could be one repeat reader...) and to keep blogging. If I feel like I'm entertaining someone I'll try harder to post more and be funnier ;) So. If you read the blog, send a comment and let me know!***

Happy Birthday 2nd Little Pretty...

... Two years ago today I gave birth to one of the sweetest babies you'll ever know. On September 15th, 2006 at 7:32 am the Little, Little Pretty was born. She weighed 7lbs 11oz and was 19" long. We didn't know that the LLP was to be a girl, she was one of those unco-operative babies you know, but were so stoked that the BLP was to have a sister.

Dear Little Little Pretty;

I can't believe you've been in our lives for two years already, where does the time go?! It seems like just yesterday I was carefully packing you into your car seat for your first trip home.

You're such a blessing to all of us, your sweet nature and sense of humour touch everyone who comes near you. Don't get me wrong though, you are a naughty, naughty little girl sometimes, your curiosity just gets the best of you. You climb better than a monkey and have less fear than a lion, this gives mommy and daddy (more so daddy...) grey hair and wrinkles. Not nice!

You're a very kind hearted and generous little girl. You're the first to share your toys, blanket (aka 'Mlankie), or snack and always ready to kiss someone else's 'boo-boo' better.


I'll always remember your bright and cheery little face complete with sparkling blue eyes and deep seeded dimples when I would come in to get you out of bed in the morning and you'd be standing there ready to greet me with 'Hiya Mama!'. As we all know, I am not a morning person, but this made early mornings so much more bearable.


This year you've discovered your love for bugs. I have had to pick more ants/spiders/potato bugs/flies out of your sticky little hands than I want to think about. Who knows how many of those you ate. Mmm. You've also met your companion and partner in crime, Short Bus. Short Bus worships the ground you walk on, even when you yell out the door for him to come in and refer to him as 'Dort Buth'. Short Bus has tried to be your fill in playmate while the BLP is at preschool. He'll sit with you to watch movies, sit on the coffee table to watch you colour (and steal your crayons), wait for you to throw him scraps from your lunch, and he's always there to push your head off your pillow at night. He's your buddy and you love him as much as he loves you.

This year you also became a big sister to The Little Boy Person. You're such a patient and loving big sister, always wanting to help your little brother. You call him 'E-sin' and always have a watchful eye on him. You're still not 100% sure about having him around, but that doesn't stop you from telling everyone about your 'budder'.

You're an excellent little talker and we're always amazed at the things you come up with and the level of understanding you show. We lost two of our cats this year and when Mommy was heartbroken about it you were the first one to come and sit with me on the bed, put your sweet little hands on the sides of my face, look into my eyes and say 'You sad Mommy?' I said 'Yes Turkey, Mommy's Sad. Thomas and Ralphie are gone now' and you said 'Ohhhhh, I see...' and gave me a hug and a kiss. This was no big surprise to me because this is just how you are.

I hope I always remember what it's like to hold your warm little body in my arms and rub my noise in your sweet smelling curls. I hope I always remember what it's like to feel your sticky little hands around my neck and the sound of your soft breathing in my ear when you fall asleep and I carry you to bed. Most of all I hope you always remember how much I love you.



I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living (and not) my baby you'll be.

I Think I'm In Love...

... with this Fantastic Website.

A great commenter left me the link for it and I love it! I have never actually seen a tin type album, so although wedding pictures may be the creme de la creme of black and white photos, tin type albums are the be all and end all of all photos. Love them! Mr. Pretties and I will be having a serious discussion about my birthday present that I still haven't received from him, and how I think a tin type album may possibly make up for it... And what's better? They ship worldwide. Doesn't get much better than that! I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to bid on some marvy old thing only to find the every popular 'Ship with USA only'. Crap. I think this pretty much signifies that it was meant to be, no?

We'll cover abandoned houses tomorrow, okay?

Is It Weird To Hang Pictures Of Random People?...

... Because I'd really like to.

Among other things I have a long standing love affair with old black and white photos. Tin types are even better. Particularly the older old ones of people who aren't smiling. I don't know why, they just appeal to me... Don't look at me like that, you all shouldn't be surprised! I'm one of those 'interesting' people who would buy victorian photo albums at the antique market or on ebay just because they're so appealing. I've curbed the desire thus far, but for how long? Then what what would I do with them all? No doubt Mr. Pretties would be all getting his knickers in a knot about becoming a storage facility for other peoples memories who's families obviously didn't care enough to hang onto them. I personally am okay with that however. I guess we could add that to my list of things I feel sorry for, old abandoned photos with no one to sit with a nice cup of tea and fawn over them regailing in times long past.

So anyways... Mr. Pretties brought home a box of photo albums that belonged to his parents and grandparents. I couldn't have been more thrilled if he'd brought me a bag of money. Srsly. It was like a card board treasure chest to me, I could hardly wait to put the kids down for their nap so I could pile them all on the bed and absorbed their musty marvelousness. Much to my extreme joy there were a couple black and white wedding albums. Big score! Black and white wedding pictures are basically the creme de la creme as far as black and white pictures go. We've decided that the empty wall in our livingroom will be devoted to black and white wedding photos of our parents/grandparents/etc... and we'll set them all up in various black frames. I'm stoked, it'll look pretty fab when it's done. Along with the very exciting find of the wedding photos we also found an album full of photos from the 1930's that don't appear to be family at all. Not only do we have no idea who or where they are, all the descriptions appear to be in french. Yes I am Canadian, no I cannot speak french. Sorry. I know enough to figure out basics like 'This is a picture of my daughter' but other than that I haven't a clue. None of Mr. Pretties family is from Quebec (Or France for that matter) so we have no idea where this very old gold guilded album came from but it's got the best pictures in it! We're suppose to return the albums to Mr. Pretties sister once we're done copying the pictures we want, but I'm thinking I might just forget to put this one in the box... she wont miss it. One picture inparticular in this album is of a nun and a priest sitting on old chairs on an old veranda. It sounds lame, but it just looks so neat! I'm having it blown up I think. Then perhaps I'll print it in sepia and hang it in our kitchen. So like I said, is it odd that I'd want pictures of people we don't know hanging in our house? Probably...

We're picking up 2 for 1 batteries tomorrow so I'll try to take pictures of the pictures (Does that ever actually work?) and post them. Maybe I'm the only one who gets enjoyment from things like that, it's entirely possible. I probably also the only who has saved a dragonfly out of a big puddle, a cicada from my cat, a fly out of our pond, climbed a 6' fence to feed a hobbling cat that looked starving, and debated putting yellow food colouring in the BLP's milk for yellow snack day all in a weeks time. Oh, and last week I saved a squirrel that one of the cats had stunned. Mr. Pretties face was priceless when he came home from work, went to put his coffee on the table on the porch only to discover a squirrel sitting in a cage watching him. Good times. For me. Mr. Pretties wasn't a happy camper, he thinks I'm trying to kill him...

Incase you're not familiar with Cicadas, this is what they look like:

There's just something about them that makes me laugh, they just look so hilarious! They're totally harmless, butt ugly, and make the weird noise in the trees in the summer. My cat likes to catch them because their wings make a weird noise when they fly, making it an excellent cat toy choice!



So if no one reads this blog after this post, I'll totally understand... I might stop reading it too actually...

I'm also a huge lover of old abandoned houses.

But I think that'll be tomorrow's post. I could easily dedicate an entire post to old abandoned houses. Add that to my list of things I feel sorry for too. I'm waiting for Mr. Pretties to win the lotto so that I can buy up all the old houses and renovate them, then turn them into no-kill animal shelters, veterinary clinics and bed and breakfasts'.

Are You Going To Cross The Rainbow Bridge?

...Not that I'm in any hurry to be kicking off or anything, truth be known I have an extremely intense fear of dying. But, if I must, atleast I can look forward to crossing the Rainbow Bridge. By the time I get myself to the pearly gates after crossing said bridge they're going to think Noah's Ark has shown up, then they'll quickly put up the neon flashing 'No Vacancy' sign. Let's just say I've had my share of pets, adoptees, strays, etc... in my rather short life so far. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Rainbow Bridge here's what it's about (Have a tissue handy if you're a wussy like me):

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to the Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind. They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart. Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

So that's what it's about. It's a great theory, I'm going to go with it. I kind of feel bad though, it says it's only for animals who were particularly close to a human... what about a pet that wasn't? You know, the ones sitting in shelters who end being euthanized for space reason? They didn't get a chance to be close to someone, so where do they go? I guess it's not good enough that I worry about the animals that are alive, now I have to worry about the ones who aren't. Oh the humanity, where does it end?! And why am I such a sucker?! Did I mention a new stray has shown up in our yard? It did. Am I feeding it? Ofcourse I am. Do I plan to bring it in the house? Obviously. Is Mr. Pretties happy? Hells no. But he knew what I was like going into this so he deals. He's even been known to leave food out for the stray while pretending that he didn't. He's a sucker too, he just doesn't like to talk about it. Did I tell you he sat and held Thomas' life less body and cried the night he passed away? He even offered to be the one to stay up with him until he was gone, but I felt that was more my job. He wanted me to wake him up when he had gone though, and he wasn't in bed very long before that happened. So he does have wussy potential. He even thanked me for turning him into a marshmellow (In a really sarcastic kind of way though...).


So why are we back talking about my cats in a kind of depressing way? No particular reason, I've just really been missing them. I actually feel uber guilty about Ralphy and that's hard feeling to shake. Ralphy only needed to be euthanized because we didn't have the $2000 to have his eye removed. That's the only reason. He was an excellent cat who got dealt a crappy pile of cards. Simply because he got his eye scratched his life had to come to an end. All I can fathom is what a waste that was. Such a waste of such a great personality. Now when I saw we didn't have it, I meant we did not have it. Not, we had it, but it was too much to spend on a cat. No. If we'd had it we would have done it in a second, no questions asked. Now don't get me wrong Mr. Pretties and I tried just about everything to get that $2000 for him. Mr. Pretties applied for loans, care credit, Farley's Fund, we phoned animal shelters to see what his survival rate would be there (Nil, they were all full and either wanted to put him on waiting list or would have euthanized him for expense reasons), we contacted 20 local animal rescues and they were all full, didn't want to take on the financial liability, or simply didn't reply. By the time we took Ralphy to his appointment that night we were pretty much hoping for a miracle, that by some wave of good fortune Ralphy would only need a shot of some antibiotics and a patch and everything would be good. We knew it was a long shot, but we had to be sure we explored all avenues for him. I was right, his eye had to be removed asap or the infection that had taken over it would slowly eat away at his brain and kill him, all the while causing him extreme pain. This wasn't what I wanted to hear. At this point the clinic had a 9 month pregnant woman near hysterics and I think they were afraid I was going to go into labour. They said because he was a stray we could take him home and call Animal Control and tell them there was a stray hanging around with a bad eye and they'd pick him up for free and euthanize him. That obviously wasn't the way to go, Ralphy deserved better. I opted to have him euthanized there so that I could stay with him, atleast he knew that someone loved him and that he wasn't alone and scared. I have that atleast. The vets felt bad for us so they covered 75% of the cost of having it done too. He went very quickly, he was gone before the needle was empty. The vet said it was because his body was so infected he likely would have died on his own in a few days. I wrapped him up in his little orange blanket and kissed him good bye. It's hard to believe how much a little orange cat can shatter your heart. I miss him terribly, he was such a presence around here and can never be replaced. I can't wait to meet him on the Rainbow Bridge.

I miss Thomas too, he was a good, loyal companion for a long time, but he had been old and sick for a long time, we knew this was coming. He slept with me on the couch the night before he died and we had some excellent snuggle time, he didn't appear sick at all at that point. The next night I knew without a shadow of doubt that this was our lastnight with our faithful friend, but because we'd spent the money putting Ralphy to sleep we didn't have it to offer the same kindness to Thomas. That really bothers Mr. Pretties and I know he harbours a lot of guilt about that to this day. I slept on the couch again that night and layed Thomas beside me, I stroked his silky long orange fur (Yes Ralphy and Thomas were both Orange. So is Wilma for that matter, we have an orange cat fetish) and finally fell asleep with my hand on his side. I woke up shortly after that a knew he was gone. We spent a fair amount of time saying good bye to him and then cut up his favorite pillow and wrapped him in the case and packed him into a Staples box. We took him to the vets in the morning and had him cremated with Ralphy. We didn't get the ashes back because it was too spendy, if I could I would have in a heart beat. The vet had told me she would make a paw print of Ralphy and they'd call me to pick it up the next week. So when I went to pick it up it was all wrapped fancy in a gift bag with a card, etc... and I noticed the card said 'Ralphy & Thomas' so I took out the tissue paper and saw this:



Even though we hadn't asked they must've unpacked Thomas and did his paw print too. I thought that was the sweetest thing and cried profusely. I didn't think it was possible to have his done so I didn't ask and secretly I'd been really sad about not being able to have it. This was such a great gift, atleast now we'll always have 'something' and that means a lot. I really cherish these things.

I think the moral of this story should be that if you really love you pet, and the thought of losing them over something stupid like a scratched eye makes you break into a sweat, then pet insurance is your new best friend. We hadn't had time to have Ralphy vaccinated, neutered, chipped and insured yet, we had planned to later that month. Later that month was too late for Ralphy and he could have been saved if we'd had insurance. $20 a month could have insured that we would never loose him due to not being able to fund emergency procedures he may need. If you've never read about pet insurance, it's really awesome and a lot of people use it now.

http://www.petsecure.com/
http://www.petcareinsurance.com/
http://www.sheltercare.com/
http://www.vetinsurance.com/

There are tons more, but there are some. I know there are better companies too, ask your vets, they'll have all the pamphlets and the comparisons between companies. I can't stress how worth it is if you can do it. If we'd had it Ralphy would be here instead of spread in some cat garden somewhere with Thomas.

Thanks for reading my depressing post, I hate it when my posts aren't peppy and funny, but I just had to post about this, and show you my sweetheart's little paws. I have Thomas pictures but I can't find them in the 2000 pictures we have unlabeled (other than by number, oy!) on the computer, and the one and only picture we have of Ralphy is on the previous post about this topic.

Does Anyone Else Change Their Kid's Laces Because They Don't Match...

... I do. I think it may be a sickness. It started out as a simple solution to a pesky problem. The BLP's shoe laces were continually untied. I personally don't mind tying them a million times a day but, I thought 'Mudder Geese' (BLP thinks this is her teacher's name...) might not have 10 hours a day to devote to the BLP's unco-operating shoelaces. So I did what any good mom would do and took a trip to Dollarama. Seriously, Dollarama can probably solve most problems in the world. Or, maybe that's just me. Any how... they have these cool packs of shoes laces in different lengths (why?) and patterns. Being the genius I am I figured her old laces were simply defective and that's why they wouldn't stay tied. I decided this after I took an entire evening to bleach her shoes laces so they would look new in her newly bleached Hello Kitty runners. So I threaded a sick pair of super wide neon pink laces with dark neon pink stripes in her shoes instead. They looked sharped. It worked out well because her clothes mostly match with this pink. Great. Until today. And tomorrow. Today we broke out some of the fall clothes since it's been unseasonably cold lately. Fall clothes are blue. Blue does not match neon pink. Does not. So what do I do? I hunt down the old/new again white laces and throw those back in after threading three other patterns through trying to find something that would match. I have an illness. I then proceeded to created a new clippie just to match this outfit because I don't create very many blue/green clippies for some reason. Mr. Pretties gets seriously upset when we're late going places and he sees my glue gun sitting on the counter with a pile of ribbon and some clips. He doesn't think there is any need to have matching accessories. I guess that's why he is the man, he wouldn't cut it as the woman around here.

I also need to come up with a yellow snack for next week, what the hell?! To be perfectly honest this preschool situation is becoming a lot of work... isn't only have two kids at home two days a week supposed to make my life more relaxing? No? Well I guess that explains why it isn't. Tomorrow is wear something red day... umm, hello preschool, we don't own anything red! What does that mean? It means that I either have to make the BLP a red pillow case dress. Okay, I tried to pawn this off on Aunt Pretty because much like my camera my sewing machine hates me. Or I could buy her something, god forbid we simply not participate in red day. In this case we were fortunate and Aunt Pretty picked up the BLP and took her shopping for something red. I personally would have been happy with some red hair things (I have made her some ladybug ones, she will wear them tomorrow, I haven't gotten totally lazy) or a big gawdy red beaded necklace, but Aunt Pretty spoiled her and bought her a whole new red outfit from Gymbo to wear tomorrow. $20 says she comes home covered in paint tomorrow. Atleast with it being red week, it'll only be red paint so we may not even see it...

But to review, I (Read: Aunt Pretty) had to find something red to wear, I have to come up with a creative yellow snack. Yes I could send a banana, but really, that's kind of lame... I'm thinking more like yellow zucchini's, apples dyed with yellow food colouring, apple juice, yellow jello, yellow smarties, a new yellow lunch box and bag, etc... I have to have the whole theme going on. It's part of the illness I was telling you about. In two weeks I have to find something blue for the BLP to take to 'Show and Share'. Need I even say that we don't have anything blue worth taking to show and share? What does that mean? That's right, I'll have to go out and buy something. When does it end?! I'm also going to be one of 'those' moms and volunteer in her classroom once a month, chaperone on the field trips, and am on the social commitee. If you knew me in real life you'd know I'm not really the 'those moms' type so it makes the whole thing kind of funny, but I really want to be involved in things the BLP does so she knows I care ;)


Sorry guys, this post makes the one about my gourd tree look genius, but I only have two kids right now and I felt obligated to post while I could. Sorry, I'll come up with something better for tomorrow. I knew I should have saved the gourd post of today!

The Gourd Tree...

... Today's special edition of two blogs in one day is dedicated to our new gourd tree...

Yes, I know. Gourds grow on a vine, not in a tree. But, my gourd vine is growing in a tree :) A crab apple tree to be exact.

For the last month or so (Perhaps longer, perception of time is diminishing)we've been watching this vine grow. We did not plant this vine, it just sort of showed up one day. We believe it's from last fall when we had all sorts of gourds to show off on the very cute straw bail I made Mr. Pretties haul home in the Buick's trunk last year, which then infested our car with numerous furry ugly-assed spiders. No worries though, I took care of those with a very large can of raid. I felt bad about it, but it had to be done, we can not be taking road trips with Wolfies, sorry. We left the gourds out for the squirrels to eat once we were done with them since my other choice was to throw them in the green bin or try to remember to cart them to Aunt Pretties so she could take them to her friend's to feed to the deer. That sounded like a lot more work than simply leaving them out and waiting for the squirrels to take care of them...

So anyway, we watched as this mystery vine (Okay, it wasn't 100% a mystery, we did know it was either a pumpkin, a cucumber, or some type of squash/gourd) took over the whole garden, the pergola, and then the crab apple tree. It had lovely yellow flowers all over it and looked quite pretty, with just the flowers I was impressed.

Then Saturday as Mr. Pretties and I were enjoying the peace and quiet that only happens when The Pretties are sleeping I noticed that it appeared that the mystery vine had accomplished something over night... upon further inspection I found that it had grown a sweet little yellow gourd with white stripes and a green bottom. Awwww. I then ran back to Mr. Pretties and yelled 'I have given birth! The mystery vine has grown a gourd! It's a gourd tree!' Mr. Pretties replied by rolling his eyes. He doesn't get it. This is a good time to note though that I don't even really like plants, but this tree is too cute for words! I then counted and our gourd tree is in fact growing 10 gourds, all yellow with white stripes and green bottoms. It is so cute.

I'm sort of glad it wasn't a pumpkin vine though, since it's growing in a tree we would have had to build some scaffolding or something to support it up there and I don't think I could have talked Mr. Pretties into that whole ordeal...

Now please note I had to make a big effort to create this post about my gourds... I had to replace the camera batteries twice, removing them from the LLP's rocking horse even, to go outside, in my robe (The neighbours are under the impression I do not get dressed, they however are mistaken, I just like wearing my robe) to take pictures of the wee gourd tree. We're definitely going to keep the seeds from the gourds, and possibly seeds from grocery stores ones to plant again next year, this vine has been a lot of fun!

So there you have it, gourds can grow in trees, and because of this there will be straw bail hauling in Mr. Pretties near future again this year ;)

For Sale: One Of A Kind Buick, Don't Miss Out...

... Yes I think I'll be placing an ad on Kijiji this afternoon ,it will read as follows:
For Sale: Ooak (one of a kind) Buick Park Avenue Ultra, Super Charged. You've never seen anything quite like this particular autmobile, it's not just for anyone.
*Have you ever seen a Buick that can do an uncanny impression of a Dolphin? No? Well, this Buick does the most realistic Dolphin impersonation you've ever heard, you can practically hear the dolphins answering it from Marineland, it's amazing.
*Do you get tired of wandering around the parking lot looking for your black Buick and having trouble distinguishing it from all the other black vehicles? Yes? Well, with this Buick you can say good-bye to that problem! This Buick is all black, with the exception of a matte grey door handle, allowing you to easily tell the difference between your very special Buick, and the less exciting Buicks of others.
*So many cars now a days have those tacky sun roofs, you know, the kind that open and allow an annoying breeze in to mess up your hair, who needs that?! No, no, this Buick has a sky light. Yup, a genuine window in the roof that does not open. It's really quite brilliant. Want to check the weather outside? See if the birds have been crapping on your roof? Simply need to catch up on your sun tanning while you drive? Then you need an original Buick sky light! Feeling kind of gloomy? Don't feel like basking in the sun? No problem, it has a cover and you can just cover it right up and pretend it doesn't exist, problem solved!
*Now as you know most Ooak items have some kind of special marking that marks it as a genuine Ooak item. This Buick is no different! On the passenger door it has what we like to call a 'birth mark' on the bottom right hand corner. Some would simply call it a rusty patch, but that is just not the case! No two rusty patches... I mean 'birth marks' are ever the same, making this an absolute one of a kind, you friends will be green with envy.
*Do you have trouble deciding whether it's time to roll up your window or not? Worry no more! This Buick takes needless worrying right out of your hands, not only does the driver's side window go up and down, it also decides when it's going to go up and down for you! Sometimes it doesn't go back up for days at a time, giving you plenty of luxurious hours decision free!
*Do you hate having a defrosted rear window in those cold winter months? Well, need I say more? This Buick's rear defogger doesn't even work, you'll never have to have one of those pesky clear rear windows again! Say so long to having to view the drivers behind you picking their nose, you wont see them and they wont see you, it doesn't get much better than that folks!

All of this grand luxury can be yours for $7999.00. That's a steal considering this Buick is practically an antique at it's ripe old age of 11 years. Not only is it an antique, it's also got more driving experience than most vehicles on the road! This Buick has seen 290,000 km in it's 11 years, it knows the roads better than anyone around, it can practically drive itself where you need to go.
Now as I said, this car isn't just for anyone. This car needs an owner who's not lazy and has mechanical know-hot. The cup holders in this Buick do not hold cups securely, so you need to be a do-it-yourself type and hold you own, unless you enjoy wearing it. Also, the gas gauge doesn't work, the door handle sticks, the intake manifold leaks oil, the super charger barings are crapping out, two hub caps are missing, the gas needs to be open from the inside of the trunk, and the tires are bald. You will need to be able to fix these yourself, and you'll have a blast doing it! You'll also need to be a fan of global warming and pollution as this Buick probably isn't going to pass emissions this year either, so you'll want to drive off into the sunset leaving a trail of holes in the ozone layer together :)
Don't wait to contact me a this offer wont last long, vehicles like this don't come about everday!

Uh huh. That is Mr. Pretties' Buick, you know, the 'luxury-pain-in-the-ass' I talked about? Today we were supposed to go sign the papers for our new Buick LeSabre. It was a sexy bitch folks. Now don't get me wrong, the Park Ave was a sexy bitch in it's time, I really debated marrying the Buick instead of Mr. Pretties, it was a tough call. We had a happy relationship for several lovely years, until the gas hike. Now everyone is suffering from the gas hike, that you know. What you don't know is that the Buick is a snob. A gas snob. You can not. I repeat, can not fill it's tank with regular gas. You can not fill it's take with the next best. No, this Buick requires the best of the best, you know, the gas the costs .30+ cents more a litre than all the rest? This Buick will cough, sputter, and just about die if you try to fill it with anything less. This is where or relationship took a turn for the worse. We really started harbouring resentment when we had to stop eating in order to satisfy it's high-end gas consuming needs. We tried counselling and were making progress, until it thought it was acceptable behaviour to start falling apart and costing us $500 a month, four months in a row. It just wasn't going to work, we needed to seperate immediately.

This brings us to today. Today was to be a glorious day. A long awaited day. A day Mr. Pretties took of work simply because it was so special. Today we were to go sign the papers for this beautiful baby:

Mr. Pretties and I had even agreed that we could each take turns smashing 'Mater' (the old Buick) with a sledge hammer. It would feel soooo good and would probably be therapeutic. Then we'd donate it to a fruit farm where they'd cut it in half, attach a flat bed to the back and use it as a farm vehicle to haul fruit baskets.

The new Buick was an excellent deal, had an excellent warranty, and was my practically my sole mate. Was being the operative word. Mr. Pretties wussied out and decided it was too expensive and not the right time to buy another car (The right time being when 'Mater' dies a slow painful death, potentially when we're in the middle of nowhere with three children). Clearly our $500 a month fixing costs are less than the $260 monthly payment this Buick would cost... Yeah, Mr. Pretties went to the Dyslexic school of math obviously. Mr. Pretties is also on my list of people who need a kick in the ass. I'm currently sitting on a very large bag of 'I-Told-You-So' which I'm saving for when 'Mater' craps out in the middle of winter and Mr. Pretties has to get his sorry self to work in 3' of snow on a cold, wet bus. Beside that bag of 'I-Told-You-So' is a big bag of 'You're-Going-To-Regret-This' as well as a smaller bag of 'You-Suck'. You would think Mr. Pretties would have figured out by now that Mrs. Pretties is always right. Always. When Mrs. Pretties says we should do something there's a 99.999% chance that she's right and that you should get right on it. If, however, you do not go along with her suggestion you face a 99.999% chance of being horribly wrong, have to hear 'I told you so' over and over, as well having to walk around with both your tail between your legs and egg on your face. Evidently he hasn't figured that out just yet, or he has an odd being wrong fetish. I'll be sure to post pictures of his egg face in a few weeks no doubt. That'll give you something to look forward to, and if you know someone in need of a OOAK Buick please direct them way :)

I Know... I Suck...

I haven't abandoned the blog, I just suck. I can't even blame the Little Boy Person for my absence because he's basically the perfect baby. I could try pinning the blame on Mr. Pretties... he usually is to blame for most things, but not this one. So, to sum it up, I'm a bad blogger mommy and I suck. Sorry. I'll try to do better from now on.

I finally received my flat plated bobby pins, my roving, and my clippie cards. Finally. What have I done with them? Nothing. Not a damn thing. Again, I suck. I will blame the Little Boy Person for that though. He's not really that good at making felty balls and he hasn't really got the hang of using the glue gun yet, so he's making our production line pretty slow. I'll have to work with him on this as I miss Etsying. I haven't even gotten my clippies done for Little Sprout's Turn Abouts. I also don't have enough to take to my mom sale this fall. Boo. But I AM going to the mom sales. Mr. Pretties thinks I wont have time to get it all organized with three pretties now. But he's wrong. As usual. I'm just not sure which ones we'll be attending yet. I'll let you know.

The Big Little Pretty started preschool on Tuesday. Did you hear that? PRESCHOOL. Uh huh. Pretty scary stuff. We actually did it without a lot of fuss and tears. From either of us. I'm really proud that I was able to find my big girl panties in time to be able to take her without wussing out. Yay me! The BLP really seems to like it too. I get really excited because she paints me pictures every time she goes, I lurves me some painted pictures :) I love them so much I (Read: Mr. Pretties) plan to take a trip to Ikea to pick up a line with clips to hang her pictures on in her room because my fridge is running out of space. I'll have to hang it really high though because The LLP will try to rip them down and sabotage them. She is not happy about The BLP's school business. Not at all. We've had to resort to hanging out at the park and Kiddie Kastle so as to keep out of the wrath of the angry toddler. Plus then it makes me feel like a good parent. Or something. I'm even going to volunteer at The BLP's school, how great am I? I know. Not that great, but I can pretend can't I? The BLP will probably end up being mostly embarassed of me and standing off in the corner crying until I agree to go home. I'm prepared for that because that's how she rolls. Oy.

You know what I thought was funny? I didn't think many people read my blog. Do you know how many emails I got about my Old Navy pant splitting story? 67. Sixty-Seven people read about my crotch hanging out at Old Navy. Wow. I almost wish I didn't post that blog. But, it seems that my story made 67 people's day a little brighter and made them say 'Thank God that wasn't me!' so if I can help one person feel better about their day then I guess it's all worth it. Still, totally embarassing though. One day I'll look back on that event and laugh. Even though my old pants now fit again (Or some of them...) that day is not today. Maybe next week.

I pretty much have no pictures to share today due to a mix of not taking any and being to lazy to go fetch my memory card and reader from the camera that is probably somewhere far away in the kitchen. I just wanted to post so that it's known that I'm still here and that I'll try harder to be an everyday blogger again. Maybe it can me my early New Years resolution? Let's try that. I shall return tomorrow with something witty, sarcastic, and creative tomorrow when Mr. Pretties goes off to work. That gives me 24 hours to rack my brain and think of something. God help us all.