The battery saga continues...

So -- if you didn't read it, my son ate a battery.  That's right...he ate a battery.  You can read the story behind this whole thing here, but I will go on with the current situation.

We are now almost 1 week to the hour (in a few hours) of "the incident" and there is still no sign of this stinkin' thing (no pun intended).  I have been searching poopy diapers for what seems like an eternity.

Perhaps I've missed it.  Perhaps that silly button battery (which was the size of a tablet of asprin) made it's way out the back door incognito.  Who knows?  The only way to find out for sure is to do another xray (or ultrasound).

The saddest part of this whole thing??  My little guy is slightly lactose intolerant...too much milk will give him the runs.  So, as a wonderful mother, what have I been doing?  Giving him milk to drink, yogurt for a snack and cereal for breakfasts....every day.  Do you know what lactose intolerant poops smell like??  *shudder*  This is some scary stuff...I deserve a medal for it...but have I gotten it yet?? Nope, the little award has either decided to camp out in his intestines for a bit, or has sneakily made it past my best efforts to spot him.  Damn 007 battery!

Anyhow -- the phone rang today (during nap time...eye twitch!!) -- and who was it??  The Poison Control Center...calling to see if I've spotted it!  I tell them (and even admitted to the extra milk thing) -- he laughs and says, "yeah, well...batteries have been known to take as long as 14 days to pass"

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me. --- fourteen days?!?!

How is that even possible?  How can someone have something in their intestines for that long without it moving along with the rest of the...uh...stuff???  This kid has been having 2 movements a day, and I'm supposed to wait until day 14??  Insane!

Anyhow -- that's it for now.  Should it show...I'll let you all know (cause I know you're all as anxious as I am!)

New books on my wishlist

First is this lovely gem that stupid blogger lost on me...but I found it (after hours of googling "mother & daughter journal). Oy! 


For my Canadian friends, please click here for a link to the book on Amazon.ca.

Anyhow -- the book looks really neat, and if it will help me to create a stronger bond with my 9 year daughter, why not give it a try (especially for the bargain price of $10 -- how can you complain?)  I also think that it will help to have a "safe place" to voice thoughts/questions that we each may have -- it's not like having that uncomfortable conversation; becuase you're somewhat removed from the situation, it's easier to say what needs to be said without worrying about the embarrassment of the situation.  Anyhow -- I'm looking forward to adding this to my next order!  (by the way, if anyone ever wanted to gift me anything, I've got a wishlist on Amazon.  Just sayin'...)



Another book that I'm interested in is called The Faith Club.  Old Muslim Woman had a little book club going for this one....the reviews are...interesting.  They've certainly piqued my interest in it.


Again, my Canadian friends can click here for a link to Amazon.ca.  This is a book that I'd most certainly like to read with others and have a little "book review" at the end.  Do I have any Jewish followers who'd want to do this??  I think it'd be interesting to have 3 women of each faith reading this book.  It would be interesting to see how our own faiths are represented (correctly or not) and if/how our view of the other faiths has changed after reading.  Don't you think?

That's it for now!

You ate WHAT?!?

My toddler can be a defiant little demon challenging - I've raised two other children through the toddler years, but I don't think I've ever faced the things that this little guy puts me through.  Drawing on the walls, climbing up the shelves, learning how to open my locked doors so that he can go for "walks", sampling my makeup, opening up pop cans, cleaning out my litter box (into the dryer no less) - nope, this kid is a one-of-a-kind walking disaster.

Case in point: Last night they were all playing happily.  Oh, who am I kidding, they were squabbling and bickering -- then I let them make forts out of the couch cushions.  This seemed to dim the whining a bickering for a little bit.  Then, my daughter got the brilliant idea of pulling out the little penlight that she got from grandma (yes, you, grandma!).  This was all cool with me.  I was doing homework and was just happy that there was relative quiet for me to study.

Some time passes, and then Adam walks up to me and says "Mommy, all gone." and points to his mouth.
"what's all gone?"
"all gone...candy...all gone"
"what candy?"
Adam proceeds to roll his eyes at me and goes over to his pile of cushions.  He comes back with the flashlight -- open and emptied of batteries.  Then says "Candy...all gone.  Adam eat all gone."

Suddenly, vivid scenes from that show on TLC about kids eating strange things comes into my mind.  One was of a kid who ate batteries and nearly died from his internal bleeding.  YIKES.


So, I call Health Link (a service in my area that has nurses to give advice 24 hours a day) -- they directed me to the Poison Control Center who said "This boy needs to go to the hospital now."  They proceeded to question me about which hospital I planned on taking him to and I packed up a bag and left.

We got to the hospital, and it was "Hi, my little guy swallowed a battery -" that's all I got out.  The nurse says, "We've been waiting for you, come on in."

*this never happens.  It's usually at least a 4-6 hour wait!*

He freaked about being weighed, he freaked about having to put on a hospital gown.  He didn't want to talk to the nurses, he tried to snag the doctor's pop, he played peek-a-boo with the woman in the bed next to us with the curtain that divided the room, he tried to run away 3 or 4 times...

Finally they call us for x-rays.  2 shots and it's done.  They spot the battery (just one) and tell me it'll come out as nature intended.

Yay for me -- I get to squash poop for the next few days until I spy a battery.  Fun.

Prozac latte is in the shop!

Okay, if you're not a facebook fan, you're going to be wondering what the hell I'm talking about.

I'm talking about this:

My Delusional Mom Shop

This is a little shop that I made for myself on Cafe Press -- inspired by my *cough, *cough* legion of fans on facebook.  You see -- if you enjoy reading what I write here every now and then...then you'll really enjoy the (almost) daily status updates that I put on the Delusional Mom fanpage.

Okay, now that I'm done my shameless self-advertising....go buy stuff!

Cheater, Cheater!!

So, last night I had an audio class for school.  To say it was a disaster would be an understatement.  The prof is on vacation and was using a remote laptop to access the site -- and anything that could have gone wrong did.  This made me feel a little bad for the prof -- who's a GREAT prof in all aspects.

Then it started.  Grown women speaking up "let's give the answers to the quiz".

Now people -- I am taking distance courses.  Our quizzes are open book they are not hard!  Read what you're supposed to and find the damn answer!  Every once and a while I, or a fellow student will have trouble finding an answer and we'll ask one another...but saying "I found my answer on page 185 or chapter 3 or in the power point" is totally different than saying "the answer is D"

I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one with morals though.  There was one who spoke up, and a couple of us who left the class for a bit.  When we came back, it was eerily quiet.  Then, the woman who was blabbing the answers apologized.  I don't think she saw it as cheating -- I really feel that she felt she was helping out -- but it is what it is.

Cheating bugs me -- in any format.  I just can't do it, I would feel guilty and wrong forever after.  I'm naive enough to believe that others feel the same way that I do -- but obviously, cheaters are everywhere.  How sad -- I work my ass of to get the grades that I deserve, and they cheat.  How can they go through life like that?  Eventually, you will get caught...karma will get you every time.

Little Admirers

Okay, I have an issue.  My daughter is only 9.  In fact, she just turned 9.  She's fun, she's nice (when she's not bothering her brother) and she's pretty.  She's a great little gal and I'm proud of her.

But - there is a dark side to this lovely little story.  BOYS.

Yup, my 9 year old daughter who is only in grade 3 has boys following her around like she's Cleopatra or something.  It's a little scary.  It started with a cute little thing at school -- he gave her a cookie, then a little kinder toy (not the chocolate, just the toy), then the other boys started one-upping him.  She was getting little pet shop pets that were stolen from sister's rooms, hairbands, earring, necklaces (all dollar store pieces, but still!).  It got to the point that I had to call the teacher.  #1, I don't want my daughter to start using this to her advantage, #2, I don't want some parents hard earned money to be going to my kid when it shouldn't be.

So -- all was good for a while.

Then...they started following her home.  Why this creeps me out is beyond me, but they follow her home and then sit outside our house for hours waiting to spot a glimpse of her.  Isn't that a little Silence of the Lambs to you?

Freaky.

So -- I put a stop to that. Told them that if they wanted to come over to play with her, that was fine, but that they needed their parent's permission first, AND it could only be on a weekend (hey -- I deal with kids all day long, I don't need even more!)

Now -- it's phone calls.  I didn't think I'd have to be dealing with this so early.  But they're phoning.  They call, and it's usually (from what i can hear on my end) "hi, what are you doing? Do you want to play at lunch/recess tomorrow?  Okay, bye."

But there's one little freak-o-rama out there who calls to serenade her.  I was busy dealing with the kids and the little man calls and she goes off to talk.  Kids leave, supper's ready and I'm like, "where's my daughter?"  She'd been on the phone for an HOUR with this kid!  An Hour!!  She's on her bed, the phone's on speaker and I hear him singing this:

"I'm gonna...KILL the bugs
KILL the bugs.
Squish them all right dead.

I'm gonna...KILL the bugs,
KILL the bugs,
Keep them from your head..."

Yeah...you're thinking what I'm thinking.

So -- daughter's sitting there on her bed mouthing to me "I don't know how to make him shut up!"  I just about peed my pants after the initial shock of it all.  I ended up saying "supper time" and she quickly told him she had to go.  Now when he phones, she begs me not to answer.

But -- the creepiness is not over yet folks, no...he will phone...and phone...and phone.  Last time, in a 10 minute window - he called us 8 times.

Dude -- you're little crush is cute, but I'm ready to call the cops at this point.

Meanwhile, my daughter now cringes when the phone rings.  How sad is that?  Why can't people control their kids?  I mean...when my kids want to phone someone, I'm in the room with them.  In my opinion, it's no different than allowing them online alone.  How am I supposed to know what's going on if I'm not there to eavesdrop  listen in... er... keep them safe?  How do parents not know where their child is for so long (with those boys hanging out at my place from about 4 to 7pm)  That's just wrong to me!

What's worse -- why don't these parents teach their children some manners and respect???  I just don't get it.  I hope that when my kids grow up, they're able to marry someone who also had parents that taught morals and common sense.

Fatty Fat

My brother in law calls me that.  I don't think I'm fat -- and I don't think he thinks I am.  It sounds mean and cruel -- but that's just the way we are with each other.  If some random dude walked up to me on the street and called me that, I'd be livid.  But Sam, he can say it and we just laugh.

However,  I'm beginning to feel a little fatty fat.  Yes folks, after all that working on that stupid Shred DVD, after all the sweat, tears, pee and swears, I'm finding all my fat again.  I blame it on the stress of my schooling.  I've started my diploma courses and not only is it much harder than I thought (you have to research every single thing you want to say with evidence so that the teacher knows you're not just blowing wind out of your ass -- in other words, I'm screwed!) -- but the course itself deals with things that I don't want to face; things like sexual abuse and helping screwed up families stay together even when my gut says to take the kids to some safe place and send the parents off to the firing squad.

See -- I read things like that and then I feel bad.  So I eat a cookie, or I add an extra spoon of sugar in my cup of tea.  Why?  You tell me, I have no friggen idea!!

I can also blame it on my wickedly awesome daycare mom who bought me (for no good reason, I might add) a sony eReader.  This thing is amazing.  I currently house 36 books in that little baby.  I can cart it around all over the place.  However, lately I've been hauling it all the way to my backyard -- then sitting on my bulging bottom and reading while my chosen children run around the backyard like mindless hooligans burning calories like crazy.  I'm sure that I somehow absorb them.

Either way, I'm sorely disappointed in myself. I worked hard (click here to read the 30 day shred post that gets the most hits becuase it's apparently uproariously funny).  I worked SO hard to get the results that I got.  I felt good, not just becuase I'd lost a few inches, but because I did something for me, 100% for me and didn't give up.  I felt healthy - something I hadn't felt in a while.  I see myself sliding back down that slope of chronic lazy-itus that I seem to suffer from and I'm scared.

Then I got to thinking -- the average woman in America (and Canada) is a 14.  I think that the manufacturers of clothing companies realized that woman are really freaked out by such a "big" number.  All my life...all my adult life I was a size 10-12.  I wasn't embarrassed about it, it's the size I was.  Last time I went to buy a pair of jeans, do you know what size I bought?? A 5.  f-i-v-e.  How is that possible?  I have hips -- big ones.  Hips that my doctors told me are "birthing hips" (ie, they are big enough to house big healthy babies!) -- there is no way on God's green earth that I could get a size 5 pant over my hips.  NEVER.  So what's up?  I think they're messing with the sizes.  A size 10 is no longer what a size 10 used to be.

Why are we so obsessed with it all?  Marilyn Monroe, was one of the sexiest woman in American history -- she was a size 16.  That's what made her curvy and gorgeous.  She didn't need to implant anything -- they were real -- she was round and voluptuous and beautiful.  Look at this picture...back then, that was Me-ow sexiness...now, she'd be considered fat.  How sad is that?

Brainteasers

Here's a brainteaser for you.  How is it possible that I'm down by 75% of my daycare kids, yet the mess in this room is still the same?

And here's a laugh for you - I announce it's snack time, my little chosen son (almost 2) says "Move it!" and pushes me towards the door way.  Love it.

And -- here comes the real mindbogglingly insane improbability -- How is it that I can give 2 boys 2 slices of cheese with 2 saltines each and end up sweeping up 1/2 cup of saltine crumbs from the floor.  How is that possible??

Taggies

It's 6 am.  I'm bored.  I'll do it.

5 questions, and 5 answers to each one.  At the bottom of this post, you'll see if you were tagged ;)

Question 1: Where were you 5 years ago?

• I was in Saudi Arabia, packing up to move back home - sad becuase I would be leaving my husband for a year or so, but happy, becuase I so desperately missed my family
• I was teaching English as a Second Language
• I was sad becuase my "last" baby had self-weaned from breast feeding.
• I was scared becuase we were coming back home with nothing set in stone.  No home to live in, no job to work at.  I get scared when there are no concrete plans.
• probably killing a cockroach or two -- the apartment we lived in between our Saudi home and our Canadian home was....gross.

Question 2: Where would you like to be 5 years from now?

• In my home, renovated and fixed up to the way I'd like it to be
• A house full of daycare kids who's parents are cool with me driving daily to pickup/drop off my daughter at the all-girls academy I'd like to send her to
• Have found a middle school for my son that has standards like the one that I've found for my daughter.
• Sitting on a wicked patio set on a wicked patio in my back yard.
• Have learned how to actually grow plants instead of kill them.

Question 3: What was/is on your To-Do list for today?

• attempt to finish Unit 4 of the diploma course I'm in right now
• read another chapter in my book that I shouldn't be reading but am because it's more interesting than my text book.
• Laundry
• Get stuff ready for a "home made" pizza night (ie, making pizza and memories with my kids)
  
• Get my stuff ready for class tomorrow.

Question 4: What snacks do you enjoy?

• Peanut butter and banana anything
• Really salty nacho chips and spicy salsa
• Air-popped popcorn
• Olives
• Apple crisp
• I admit it, Meaghan's answers were too good - except for the wine ;o)

Question 5: What 5 things would you do if you were a billionaire?

• Pay off our mortgage (and those of the immediate family)
• help build a newer/improved mosque
• Buy a condo in Fairmont (or Jasper, or some other gorgeous mountain location)
• Travel around the world -- take the kids to see the countries that our respective families came from
• Build that daycare/preschool that I've been contemplating.

Taggies to:

Erin

Ella

Chantal

Old Muslim Woman <-- does this offend you by the way?  Should I use your name??

Shasharishi

A give away!

No, not me silly people - I'm to cheap to give things a way (but I'll sell them to you!)

A fellow blogger of mine was contacted by a company called CSN Stores about hosting a give away.  Pretty cool if you ask me.  A $50 gift certificate to the store is what you can win.  Click here to go to her blog for the details.

Eye Twitch!

some of the thoughts swirling through my head today interspersed with some of the words that I've had to say today (usually about 10000 times....)

• no.
• get down.
• no, you can't play in the fish tank.
• no, you can't jump on the couch.
• no, taking the cushions off the couch to jump on them is also not allowed.
• no, jumping on the cushion-less couch is also not allowed.
• regardless of what you may think, eating broccoli will not kill you.
• no, you cannot dip your broccoli in caramel.
• please stop shouting.  It doesn't matter how loudly you shout, your sister/brother who is at school cannot hear you from here.
• eeeek!  Jumping from the back of the couch to the cushions is NOT allowed either
• we're on a whole new level of WTF when you pretend to play doggie and start "marking your territory" It is disturbing.
• if you're too sick to be at school, how come you can play and laugh and cause everyone else to be bratty?
• on that note - should I walk you to school and save my sanity, or enjoy you while you're here (cause it's not often I get to spend time with you)
• watching you make a "bra" for the baby doll out of the baby doll diapers is also disturbing.
• it's a new kind of irony watching the Fisher Price Bus haul cars around, while the Fisher Price People "slide" down the car park ramp.
• Wow - that is cool that the puppet just had a baby.  Yes, I see it's Elmo.  Yes, I did know that babies come out of bums.  Yes, I'm very glad that you're mom didn't flush the toilet after you came out of her bum. (oh my god...almost peed my pants on that one!)
• I'd like to thank you both for the colourful artwork on my chair.  Sure, the highlighters are ruined, but it does look freakishly cool.
• I think it's hilarious that you will wear the goggles from our "work bench" area almost all day becuase you think they help you breathe.  Whatever floats your boat, hun!
• why is it that you willingly eat your own snot, but won't put a carrot in your mouth?
• why are you suddenly so fascinated with dumping every bin full of stuff in the middle of the room?
• why do you leave your dumped bins upside down all over the room -- like little islands of unused organization?

Depending on how my day goes (ie, if it continues on the current course) I may have to add a second eye twitch post today.

Speaking of Eye Twitches -- another shameless promo about my T-shirts...this is the last week to get the "Eye Twitch" -- next week is a new design!

Click HERE to shop!

Enjoy!

 

The Gray Debate

So, I have been noticing that I've been getting more and more gray hairs -- Not that you all would notice as I wear a hijab (headscarf) but I've got them, I know they're there and I love them.

I've discovered that there are not many like me...not many women out there who are excitedly greeting each silver strand that sneaks its way into our tresses.  On the contrary, friends and family run out to the salon to dye them out, or opt for the cheaper version of doing it at home.  Some have said "aren't you going to do something about that?" as if gray hair is some sort of infectious disease.

No.  No ,I'm not.  I like my grays.  I'm looking forward to having a full head of them, thank you very much.

So, last night I spent my time googling gray hair.  It appears that "embracing the gray" is the new, hot trend....for people over 50.

Uh...I'm only 33.

I spent my time going from one site to another and each of them aimed at women old enough to be my mother - most of them telling them how to best cover them, or pushing some sort of treatment that supposedly prevents them (sure).  There are books like Amazing Grays: A Woman's Guide to Making the Next 50 the Best 50 or Going Gray, Looking Great!: The Modern Woman's Guide to Unfading Glory which seems to state that while graying hair may be in vogue, lines, wrinkles and rolls are not.

It makes me wonder -- am I a "crunchy mommy?"  Am I really that odd that I embrace my grays as much as I embraced my stretchmarks (which I looked on as a sign of passage)...sure, my daughter told me it looked like pork skin (thanks...) but still -- I earned those, just as I'm earning my grays.

Why does society place such a value on youth?  It wasn't so long ago that all cultures respected the elderly of society.  They were given honour, well-deserved and much justified. They were the ones we came to for advice, listened to to discover our past, or learned from to carry on our traditions. Why have we strayed so far??  Today, we plump and fill and inject and lift.  When we can't do that, we hide, whether that be through a bottle of dye for ourselves, or a move to the "assisted living facility" for the family.  The old adage of "out of sight, out of mind" rings very loudly here.

I'll be the first to admit that I have taken on a new lifestyle -- eating and doing healthy -- but it is in no way a desperate attempt to cling to my fading youth *cough, cough* -- I use that term very lightly, as to say that I am old is outrageous at best.  Getting older, yes...but what is old?  Certainly not what I used to think it was!

I'm curious though -- what does everyone else think about growing old gracefully; recognizing the inevitable results of our waning youth and embracing the changes we see -- surely I can't be the only one.