While Our Minds Are Still In the Crapper...

Banoffee has been spending an awful lotta time on the crapper too!


Don't you just love the tiny elf pants?

And we all know elves do cute poops like this.


After all, if they only eat sugar and candy, they can only poop out sugar and candy. Logic.

And also on the subject of yesterday's sex talk, I realized I totally missed a trick in not posting this...


Banoffee gettin' jiggy with it. Elf porn. (Watch the hits roll in.) Sex is durty. Merida should be ashamed of herself.

When our kids grow up, they will be mortified by what Banoffee will get up to. Just sayin'.

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby!

We weren't talking about sex, we were actually in a dungeon.

So after my Sweary Words post, there's been another parenting topic on my mind. This one is by far much more important to me.

How do you (and by you, I mean parents of teenagers) deal with sex?

First I think I need to go over my background to give the context in which I was raised.

I was raised in a Christian home where sex before marriage was a no-no. And believe it or not, I followed that rule. Though there were some close calls (some were very close), I did not have sex until my wedding night. I was a real life actual virgin bride. I don't think my hubby will mind me admitting for him that he was too. (I mean, not the bride part.)

Aren't we sweet?

I got married when I was 22, so I was a young'un, a kid practically. Scott was only 20. At the time, I thought it was pretty normal to stay abstinent until marriage. But then again, most of my friends were either church friends or drama nerds, so take from that what you will. Also I was one of the first of my friends to get married, and now that I'm older (and know a lot more people) I realize it is SO WEIRD to not have sex before marriage. I mean, I knew it was weird then, but I didn't realize just how weird.

Besides, having only waited 22 years, with the first 12 not counting because boys were ew, I really had no concept of what it would be like to remain abstinent for a really long time. Like until 30. (Thirty year olds were old people!)

A lady probably in her 30s.

(Photo credit.)
My children are growing up in an even more liberal age than my parents did or I did, and it's going to be even more unusual or rare for them to wait until marriage. As much as I like the idea of my kids waiting, I also feel it would be incredibly irresponsible of me as a parent to assume they will and to avoid discussing the other options. Birth control (and with that, my aversion to the Pill), pregnancy, the right person, all these things need to be discussed, but in what context?

Here's my humble thinking now, as a mother of still pretty young children. I think I will encourage my kids to wait... at least wait until they are older. Like not a teenager. Or roughly then. I'd like to encourage them to wait until they are married, but I think it's more realistic to just encourage waiting in general. Wait until they are older. I don't want my sweet daughters being pressured into sex at the tender young age of, say, 13, when they do not know themselves at all and are not loved by the boy, and I don't want them labelled sluts when they are 16, for sleeping with random guys who again do not love them. I don't want my son using innocent girls for his own fun and experiementation at 13, and I don't want his crazed teenaged body making all the decisions for him at 16. But I also don't want to lay the law down so hard and so blindly that they do not own or know how to use a condom, and should they find themselves in that 'moment' not have anything with which to protect themselves. If you've ever been a teenager in the 'moment' you know that the lack of a condom - without having had the risks drilled into your head with an electric screwdriver (there's a pun in there somewhere) - is a very minor deterrent.

I know what the churched of you will say - They must wait! You must set that example! Sex is only right within the confines of a marriage. It's about sin, not about society.

Well, okay. I get that. I also get that I'm not sure I believe that any more, and in looking to the future, I need to maybe have a Plan B on how to raise my own kids in a realistic, pragmatic way that keeps them safe physically and emotionally.

(And I'll refrain from asking everyone with that immediate gut response of "It's Sin!" if THEY were able to wait until marriage, because it's totally not my business... but I might let the question hang in the air for a moment.)

It's a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I don't want to condone sex for an immature, impressionable and still emotionally and physically developing youngster, but on the other hand, I don't want to put my head in the sand and pretend it never happens, or it won't happen with my own child. I also don't want to pour on the guilt that will get carried into a good marriage and possibly spoil it, as happens with so many Christian kids I know. I want my kids to grow up respecting themselves, respecting their boy/girlfriends, having the confidence and self-assurance to say no when they aren't ready to say yes, and to know their own hearts and bodies.

That's not asking too much, is it?

So I ask you, parents of modern teenagers, how do you deal with the subject?

Saturday Morning Artwork

Banoffee got into the wrapping paper last night and made a little mess. I didn't mind, I've finished my Christmas gift wrapping. Have at it, elf man.

He even wrapped himself up in a box. Look at that cheeky giggle he's doing. HOW DO PEOPLE THINK THIS IS CREEPY? He is cuteness incarnate.

Kids were all "There's no present inside."

The Advent Activity today was to paint Christmas tree ornaments to give as gifts. However, that project failed when Walmart ceased to retail the ornaments I'd had in mind. So I changed the project to making tea towels as gifts. It all worked so perfectly in my head... but my head has been known to be wrong on so many occasions.

First of all, I bought flour sack towels, which when all wrapped up in sales packaging looked exactly like the kind of fabric I wanted. Unwrapped, however, they were twice as big as a regular tea towel. I had no desire to get out my sewing machine, so I had to think out how to cope with their bigness.

Second, I had purchased finger paints because, you know, they are safe for kids. My baby loves putting everything into his mouth, so it seemed right and responsible to go with washable, non-toxic finger paints.

Except, oh wait, tea towels need to get washed. Oops. Decoration-only tea towels we'll be making then.

And third, I didn't buy enough paint. I bought a set of six little pots, but after painting four little hands twice each, I was out of green paint. (Jaguar got to use both hands because he's the favourite the baby.) I'll have to make the Scottish grandparents their tea towel later. Maybe I'll actually buy the right kind of paint too so the gift can actually be useful. I really don't like non-useful gifts. I'm not sentimental. I throw my kids paintings away.

They're meant to look like Christmas trees.

The towels came out cute regardless of their uselessness and the kids had loads of fun painting with the leftover paints afterwards.



My kitchen is currently an amazing art museum.


Until I throw all the paintings away, of course.

The Forgotten Elf and the Dusty Shelf

So the other night I went to bed and forgot about the Elf.

Mega Oops moment the following morning when Fifi came into my room in a tizzy.

She blamed herself. She 'accidentally' touched the elf at some point the day before and now she was convinced she'd taken away his magic.

Mummy had to do some fast bleary-eyed lying to get out of that one.

'Maybe he just fell asleep.' No, his eyes were open.

'Maybe he isn't feeling well.' He looks fine to me.

'I know! Maybe he couldn't get all that toothpaste off the mirror, and so he needs our help.' That one worked. Fifi got out paper towels and face cloths and helped me wipe the mirror down. Then I sent her into the kitchen for breakfast. The moment was critical. I had to make Banoffee move without Fifi seeing me. I quickly hung him on the shower and turned off the bathroom light.


'Okay, Fifi, he's still sitting there. We'll see if he moves later today.' Lies, lies, the lies we tell children!

She kind of forgot about it until it was time to brush her teeth before school. 'Mum! Mum! He moved! Come look!' Feigning surprise, I ran to the bathroom to check. Sure enough, Banoffee's magic was restored. Phew.

Yesterday we made Reindeer Food for the reindeer on Christmas Eve. The first year we did this, we went all out - pretty little bags to hand out the food to friends, a ribbon and a tag with a poem on it, oats, sprinkles, glitter, confetti stars. Then I read about the glitter and confetti being dangerous to birds and the excitement wore off. However, the kids feel obliged to feed the reindeer every year now, so it's gotten a bit old. Yesterday it was plastic baggies, oats and cake sprinkles. Done in five. Moving on.

Last night, despite being up past midnight wrapping Christmas gifts (and re-watching Season 1 of Glee), I dared not forget our little elf. It was late, and I had no grand ideas, but it was easy enough to set him up with a game of Connect 4 with a La La Loopsy doll in tighty whiteys.


Today's project was to make elf donuts out of Cheerios but we made gingerbread men instead, the activity left over from weeks ago. Note to self: I want these for next year.


I'm kind of hoping the elf donuts get forgotten about, but if they don't, it should be easy to catch up on later.

Lolly also got to wrap her own Christmas presents this afternoon. She picked out her own paper from the Dollar Tree, and I let her do it all, scissors and tape. She loved it. And since it was her own wrapping paper, I didn't even care that she was cutting holes out of the middle of the wrap.




Today was Fifi's last day of school for the holidays, and Scott's last day of work until next Thursday. Hurray! Fun time with my family and lie-ins every morning! Ya-hoo!

Birthday Babe

Well it's been several days since my last post, because as you might recall, I was away on *holiday*! Woo woo! (In my head, that sounds like a train's woo woo.) I have much to talk about regarding Seattle, but I also have much to write about before I get to that. Like how our little elf, also on holiday, continued being on his cheekiest behaviour while we were away. And more importantly, how my little middle just turned five today.

(This is a post that my friend Liz will not want to read. You know what I'm talking about, Liz, if you do read this. Elves and babies. *Wink*)

(Apologies for that sidebar.)

So first things first, I'll just quickly catch you up on Banoffee's shenanigans since I know you've been waiting with baited breath over this.

My mom had a lot of fun Elfing on the Shelfing. The elf was her idea in the first place. She (I mean, Santa) is the one who delivered our elf to us. So while she had all three of our children for four days and four nights, she got to have a fair bit of her own EOTS fun.


I may very well have the order wrong, but we'll just call this the first night. Banoffee having a marshmallow snow ball fight with Mom's snowmen. Mom has a serious snowman problem collection.


Night two or something. Banoffee gets out the red dry erase marker and Rudolphs all the photos. Classic Elf on the Shelfiness.


Banoffee and his gang of snowthugs play a dangerous game of Texas Hold'em. Or it might have been Go Fish.


The final night. Banoffee gets greedy with the candy canes and steals them off the tree, placing them up high where no one can reach them. Or so he thought. He forgot he is only six inches tall, but human beings are closer to six feet. Oh well, it was a valiant effort.

Since arriving back home, he's been caught doing this:


And this.


First rummaging through our suitcases to see if we brought him anything back. (We didn't.)

Then (probably in spite) he made a mess of the bathroom mirror. But who could stay mad at an elf who writes "I *heart* U" to your kids on the mirror with toothpaste?

(And then who could stay mad at a little birthday girl who writes him back... also in toothpaste?)


Which brings us to our birthday girl.

My little Lolly, my middle child, my hard-headed, determined, free spirited, wild child turned five. Five! See, in my head, my daughters are still five and three... Now that Lolly is the five year old and Fifi is almost seven, I really have to make that shift in my head. Maybe now they will stay five and seven until Lolly takes seven over. Although, come to think of it, that shouldn't be a problem after all. Lolly has promised us that she is going to stop growing now and stay five forever, which is pretty cool because buying new clothes all the time for small growing people really sucks.

We celebrated Lolly's birthday at the start of the month, so today was pretty low key in terms of party action. When she woke up, we all sang Happy Birthday to her (even Jaguar jabbered along). She also got phone calls from my dad, my mom and Scott's mom singing Happy Birthday, along with several Facebook messages, which she loved. For lunch, I packed some bento boxes and took her up to my step-dad's work where we met him and my mom. On the way home, we stopped into Walmart for toilet paper and got suckered into wandering past a table set up with loads of toys. I found a Despicable Me 2 100 piece jigsaw puzzle, and it was so cute (and cheap) that I handed it to Lolly right there in the shop and said, 'Happy birthday.' She was as happy as anything.

Sidebar: Before you think I'm an awful mother, she'd already gotten her birthday presents from us at her birthday party. But I did feel a bit badly about her not getting anything on the actual day. End Sidebar.

We came home, the kids played outside in the gorgeous warm December weather, and I baked a chocolate birthday cake for her. Scott came home, and while the cake cooled, we all went out to Zaxby's for her birthday dinner. This was also our Advent Activity for the day. Lolly was a bit miffed we didn't go to The Mean Pig for her birthday dinner, as she requested, and which truly is our favourite place to eat, but dude, Zaxby's does Kids Eat Free on Wednesdays, so I mean, that was a no brainer. Feed a family of five on $13? Um, yes please. She was happy when she got there anyway, and we had a lovely, fairly stress-free family night out.


Then we came home and ate caaaaake.


So to my little Lolly, for you to read many years down the road, you are the awesomest kid ever, and you are also the most unmanageable. You cannot be controlled, so instead of trying, all we hope to do is usher you in the right direction. We think you are going to be so incredible as a teenager and are also frightened for our lives. If you don't become a mad scientist or a CEO or a political activist, it is probably because you are doing something else so unexpected that you are totally blowing our minds. We'll be proud of you no matter what. We currently ARE proud of you. We love you, our darling, perpetually-five, little girl.

From this...

...To this.  Love.

This is a test post by Scott. Here is a picture of a hedgehog:

That is all.

The Elf Shenanigans and the Unmentionables Mentioned

It's very late, but for those of you following Banoffee the Elf's exploits, here's what our little house guest had prepared for us this morning.


While Lolly isn't actually a fan of hot chocolate, Fifi is (and so am I). Banoffee put together a lovely mix of hot chocolate powder (just from a mix, I, I mean, Banoffee, didn't have all the ingredients on hand to make it from scratch), peppermint flavoured marshmallows and chocolate chips. The stripey straws were just for looks and did not fare well when placed in the hot liquid.


We were busy all day, so luckily our Advent Activity was simple. We ate dinner by candlelight. It was a very romantic taco night.

This morning, after running errands (all I do, it seems, is run errands), I took Lolly to another local library to see a kids' Christmas concert (can't remember the name of the singing couple). She LOVED it. They sang silly kid songs, Christmas songs, threw a bunch of toys around, did motions, all that fun kid stuff. Jaguar slept through the first half but boogied down during the second. It was unrealistically relaxing for a loud, microphoned, singing duet kids' concert.

I then spent pretty much the rest of the day cleaning, folding laundry and packing everyone for this weekend. I also had my friend/ neighbour's kids over after school for a little while to give her a small break, and the kids were all perfect. All five of the riotous children in my house were in superb moods and played smashingly. I had a great time folding laundry and joining in on their Glee soundtrack dance party. I wonder why I was in such a great mood?

OHHHHH, that would be because the Jaguartor TOTALLY worked last night and Jaguar only cried in his crib for about 5-10 minutes and I never had to get out of bed to deal with him. That great mood is otherwise known as well-rested.

(I'm also in a great mood because as breastfeeding decreases so has my boob size, so I got to buy new bras for my trip, and they are push-up bras, and I feel like a buxom burlesque pin-up in my Spanx-style sucky-in knickers and pushed-up boobs. Just so you know.)


Sorry.

Lastly, since tomorrow will be somewhat busy with the final packing, sending the cat and children to their various vacation residencies, tying up loose ends (aka more errands) and finally catching our relaxing no-fighting-kids flight to Seattle, I'll go ahead and show you what our cheeky elf will be discovered doing in the morning.

I so nearly forgot about this until, like, five seconds ago


Hey, buddy, that's supposed to be part of Fifi's teacher's Christmas present! Imagine you eating all those M&Ms. Shame on you. Now I have to go buy more....


Fifi's teacher is getting two Pampered Chef glass prep bowls with lids, one filled with red M&Ms and the other with green. I'm going to wrap it with pretty ribbon in a pretty bag and think up something punny to write on the card like '...' 

...Erm,I don't know what.

Baby Con-TRAP-tions

Today was a very special day. Today, Lolly and Jaguar met the 'real Santa'. He had a real beard and all. And a very fancy suit, not one of those cheap ones. He had the glasses, he had the boots, he had it all. Except for the reindeer. Lolly was seriously worked up over the lack of reindeer and how he got here from the North Pole without his sleigh. Cover nearly BLOWN.

The Real Santa came to our library this morning. For the first year, Lolly gladly sat on his knee and told him what she wanted. Powerpuff Girls, of course, and a unicorn. Jaguar also sat in his lap, tear-free. He was highly curious of Santa when he came in, yet more dubious as we approached him. I hinted to Santa that Jaguar would willingly come if bribed with a candy cane. Sure enough, when Santa held out that sweet treat, Jaguar toddled right over and allowed Santa to pull him up on his lap for a picture.

Isn't he a jolly old soul?

CANDY.

(It's been said before, but it must be said again - WHY do we think it's okay to sit our little children on the laps of men we've never met before at Christmas, after telling them all year long to avoid getting overly chummy with all the rest of the world's creepy strangers?)

Fifi almost ended up at the library with us. Last evening, she started complaining of an earache and running a mild temperature. She was acting truly miserable which clued us in that it was for real. She had red cheeks, she whimpered in her sleep. I was sure she had an ear infection. I was all geared up for keeping her off school this morning to arrange a doctor's visit, and since ear infections aren't contagious, taking her to the library with us. But she awoke this morning fairly bright and said it didn't hurt really any more, so we think maybe it was just trapped water or the cold weather or something.

Banoffee wasn't so lucky. We found Banoffee this morning lying in the tissue box clutching a baby doll surrounded by used tissues and cold medicine. We decided to give him a day off elf duties and let him sleep it off. Hopefully he'll be back to his usual cheeky elf self tomorrow.


(And once again, idea stolen. It just happened to really work really perfectly into our lives yesterday.)

We were busy most of the day any way. School started an hour later this morning, so after school drop off, running a few errands, and getting some bits and bobs at Walmart, we came home, made pizza for lunch, and Lolly and Jaguar watched TV while I got out the sewing machine to work on a project (to be discussed post-haste). Then this evening, I made yummy broccoli soup and cornbread for dinner and the girls had an indoor Treasure Hunt as their Advent Activity.

MY KIDS IN JAMMIES SLAY ME.

I stole the idea a few years ago from some website, so I can't credit it here. I hope through the years I've changed the little poems enough that it's not TECHNICALLY plagarizing, but I'm probably still committing a crime posting it. If anyone ever discovers its true origin, tell me where I find it and I will link the crap out of it, because it was awesome. The little poem clues I used are are the bottom of this post if you want to use them. The kids had to follow the clues all around the house to find an early Christmas present. Originally, that present was going to be homemade Powerpuff Girl dolls, one for each child, but when Fifi drew the ticket out of the Advent calendar this morning, I remembered I had not yet even attempted making them yet. I had another idea instead... magnetic paper dolls. But Walmart was out of magnetic printer sheets, so I had to think up something else again. The kids love board games, so I slipped a Candyland box into the shopping trolley and wrapped it later when Lolly was busy watching Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup save the world for the bazillionth time. The kids had a great time running all over the house responding to clues and then opening their present.






So... back to that sewing machine. What did I spend my afternoon doing, while my precious offspring rotted their brains with television (Netflix, to be exact)? I spent it devising and creating my secret nighttime weapon - the Jaguarator.


This toddler-sized sleeping bag idea came to me late in the night two nights ago as I lay staring at the ceiling, listening to Jaguar cry and crawl out of his crib every couple of minutes. I needed something that would make it impossible for him to hike his leg up over the crib, without actually tying his legs up, which just seemed a little ... child protective services. Then I remembered the sleeping bags babies sleep in and decided I could make one myself. I imagined up the pattern and the sewing order and what materials I'd need all night long while I didn't sleep.

I'd planned on making it out of thin fleece and lining it with cotton, but Walmart's fabric section only has so much, and I wasn't even considering heading into the metropolitan area to find a real fabric store. Lolly found this cute red polyester thick fleecy-type fabric with puppies all over and it was kind of perfect. It was a bit more expensive than some of the other things, but it was thick and soft enough not to need a lining, so the cost evened out. The fabric and the zipper together cost me $10. To buy one of these things manufactured from a shop we're talking so, so much more.

I came home, set up my mom's sewing machine and laid the fabric out to create a 'pattern'. And by 'pattern', I mean I totally eye-balled it. I took one of Jaguar's larger sleepsuits and laid it over the fabric to get an impression of how big it needed to be. I cut out a shape around the sleepsuit a few inches larger all around for comfort. I cut the front part in half so I could insert the zipper. I eye-balled the straps too, which were actually my biggest mistake.

When I cut out the straps, I folded the pieces in half to make them even on both sides, but when I unfolded it, I realized I'd made the neck room extremely tight. I started imagining the headlines: BABY STRANGLED BY OWN MOTHER'S HANDMADE BABY SLEEPER. So I started messing around with it, cutting the neck line lower in the front, almost into a v-neck. Finally I realized if I cut any more I was going to ruin the whole thing, so I just went with it. Once I'd put the whole suit together, and tried it on Jaguar, I discovered that not only would my original neckline have been already too gapey, but with the new cuts I'd made, it was huge. The baby would've been able to squirm right out of the top. I readjusted and tightended the straps, thankful I'd given myself so many extra inches at the bottom, and the bag fit perfectly.


Jaguar was able to walk around without tripping, but the real test was the crib. I placed him into the crib with a bright smile and stood in front of him, hands on hips, waiting to see what he'd do. Sure enough, that little leg came climbing up... and stopped. He couldn't get it any higher. He started pulling at the bottom of the bag to loosen it but it was firm! He was stuck! I plucked him up out of his crib with exorbitant glee. I win! I WIN!!!

However, I might want to refrain from counting my chickens before they are hatched. He's in his crib asleep right now in his warm blanket / baby trap. When he wakes up at 2am, we'll know for sure if the Jaguarator is a true success.


(No, this photo doesn't fit in anywhere, but it's so cute, right? Any guesses where he learned to handle a keyboard and mouse so eloquently?)

**And as promised...
The Indoor Treasure Hunt

Again, I have no idea where I found this on the web. It may have even been a collaboration from several sites. Please don't sue me, I have no money.

Cut out the clues and hang them in the right spots. Each clue will take them to the next spot with the next clue until they come to the end and find the treasure.

Follow this clue to a very cold place,
where ice cubes and popsicles fill up the space.
Go into the kitchen to solve this brain-teaser,
and open the door to the family’s _______.

Follow this clue to a very dark spot
Where bedding and linen and towels may be got
Go to the hallway (go there yourself)
The clue will be hidden up high on a ______.

Numbers and letters
combine on the screen,
where I made up this rhyme...
can you find the machine?

When you're feeling less than fresh
or you want to have a laugh,
you wash and get all squeaky clean
inside a warm bubble _________.

Dora, Peppa, Charlie and Lola -
are what the children like to see.
Shows like Gilmore Girls and Scrubs
are what Mummy puts on the ________.

This place is mostly filled with papers
that often bring you glee
Like letters and packages,
plus the bills you'd rather not see.

At breakfast and dinner
and sometimes lunch when we are able,
we set out the dishes and put out the food
and we gather around the kitchen ________.

Our cleans just keep getting dirty
and we put them here to get them clean.
We like to take turns pouring in the soap
and pushing the buttons on the washing _______.

Up and down, and up and down
you climb these every day.
You've likely seen the clue on these,
but passed it anyway.

This room is for the kids to sleep
when going to bed for the night.
Let's hope the bed is comfortable
and sheets are clean and white.

Be the first back to the room
where this hunt did begin
If you're the first you'll hear the words,
"Congrats, to you... YOU WIN!"

Dirty Goldfish, Dirty Diapers

Banoffee goes fishing! (Idea stolen from here.) I love how in the photograph in the link the person uses a pristine white sink for her elf to fish in; I have no such sinks quite that pristine or free from possible midnight, half-sleeping handwashes. I used a bowl instead.

(And imagining the kids could eat the Goldfish in the morning, I took extra care when putting this scene together, until I tipped my baby plant off the windowsill right into the Goldfish bowl. And then Lolly ate the Goldfish before I could stop her anyway, potting soil and all. Ew.)

Well, in light of my emotastic post last night, I had a good day. Following a not-so-good night where Jaguar wanted to crawl out of his cot for an hour (and in which I mentally devised a brilliant sewing pattern for a Grobag-style baby sleeping bag which I intended, but did not manage, to make today to keep his legs from being able to stretch high enough to climb out of his cot while simultaneously keeping him warm in this cold weather), I got the kids dressed (no school again), dressed myself (put on that eyeliner and all) and drove into town to spend the day with my old BFF Devon and her kids. It was a nice, chilled day complete with dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and a cheeky wee glass of afternoon wine. And a cheeky wee trip to Target, where I bought my cat a scratching post, my son a box of nappies, my daughters some stocking fillers, and my husband a six-pack of Guinness.

School is back on tomorrow, and I'm grateful, because I have a million plus one things I need to do before leaving for Seattle on Thursday. I need to arrange a doctor's appointment for Fifi, purchase those sewing notions needed for creating my baby-sleeping trap, drop some stuff at my mom's, take Lolly to the library to see Santa, and pack all the bags for the weekend - the kids bags for Mimi's house and ours for holiday.

I can't believe there are only 15 days until Christmas. My shopping is nearly complete. My wrapping hasn't even begun. Our Christmas tree has a skirt under it now (thanks, Devon!), and my mom put a wreath on our door. Ho ho ho, Santa Claus is coming to town!

Oh yeah, and our Advent Activity today. It was supposed to be that cut snowflakes one. We didn't get around to it, which is no big deal since the kids sailed that ship days ago.

I have all these ideas for things to write about - particulary loads of ideas from you, my dear readers, from November that I still intend to write about: hair dye, acceptance, tattoos, regret, to name a few. I will get to all of them eventually as time and inspiration allow. But tonight, I'm hitting the sack. No wise words from me tonight. Just a silly elf catching dirty fish. But I'll leave you with this one story, which I am reminded of thanks to Lolly's dirty-fish-eating habits. Hold on to your stomachs, this one's a doozy.

When Lolly was around 18-months, toddling all around the house getting into things, we had one of those diaper-genie trash bin contraptions that you shove the dirty disposable diapers into and it twists the bin bag around it. Well, ours wasn't quite so sophisticated - it didn't twist the bag around. It just closed off the bag at the top until you shoved another diaper down into it. Lolly was the child with which I never really used cloth nappies.

One day, I saw my toddling imp wandering around the house with a piece of buttery toast. Funny, I thought, I can't remember the last time I made toast. But the mind of a mother with two small children is easily distracted, and I put the thought out of my head. I continued on my merry, absent-minded way until I saw her later that same day eating another slice of seemingly fresh, buttery toast. This time I stopped to ponder. It had been days since I'd made the children toast, so she couldn't have stashed this in a toy box or some place without it growing hard. I watched Lolly bewilderingly with her toast. She took a bite, then toddled her way into the hall where all the nappy changing supplies were. She opened the diaper-genie. She pulled out another slice of moist, buttery toast. She took another bite. I screamed like a banshee and yanked the toast out of her hand. I removed the other slices of carefully stored toast from the bin. It was all still soggy - not from butter, but from being in the moist environment of the dirty diaper pail for three days.

Thank you, I'll be here all week. Good night, folks!

We Are Not Alone: The Emo Post

Last night's Elf on the Shelf stunt was a last minute "Oops I better do something quickly" effort. He TPed the Christmas tree. Unoriginal, I know, but it's a good throw-away when you need it.

And last night I needed it.

Last night I was hit with a minor case of melancholy. I was just sitting in my big comfy armchair and without reason, tears started to glide down my cheeks. Scott asked what was wrong, but I didn't know. He thought that was me not wanting to talk about it, but no, genuinely I didn't know. He could not understand what that was all about. No one cries for no reason, he said.

Yes. Yes they do.

I know I'm not alone. Sometimes feelings you don't even know exist build up inside until they have to come out. For some people they come out as anger or frustration. For others, tears and sadness. I'm in the latter category most of the time.

After crying for a little while, and being prodded by my caring husband, the reasons started to make themselves clear.

I just miss everything.

I miss the Mid-Kirk cafe on Friday afternoons with my mother-in-law. I miss dropping in on my father-in-law on a rotten rainy day for a cup of tea and a slice roll. I miss my sister- and brother-in-law and my nephew ... and the niece I haven't even met yet. I miss Craft Nights every Tuesday with Heather, Elaine and Paula. I miss hanging out with lots of kids with Maria and Robyn. I miss the love and friendship I shared with Sheila. I miss coffees with Laura, and I miss being on stage. I miss drinks at the pub and the town gossip and the Gaelic school. I miss so many people I couldn't possibly list. I miss being known and well-liked and surrounded with people to see and places to go. Most of all, though, I miss me.

It sounds so damn corny, doesn't it?

I'll just stay with the corny though. Feelings are always corny when they are typed out. This is going to sound so stupid, but here I go... because for some reason I have this insane need to share myself with the world. I don't write for pity or for cyberhugggsxxx, but because we all need to know sometimes that we are not alone in those feelings that we are wrongly ashamed of.

In Scotland, I imagined myself in bright colours. I was happy (in general), colourful, outgoing, bright, busy, active. I wore make-up and heels and skirts and warm woolly scarves and sequinned hats. I was living in technicolor.

Now, I'm grey. I'm tired, lonely, fat, grey, grey, grey. I wear pajamas and no make-up, I eat junk and nap on the couch and check Facebook on my phone. I make two outings a day - taking Fifi to school and back. In the car, not walking, because it's cold and I don't want to be cold. Sometimes I go to Walmart or Kroger. Sometimes I do see friends, and those days are the highlights of my week. I wait for Scott to come home each night with fervor because he's my only adult and he's my joy and my rock. I just feel pretty pathetic.

I want to snap out of it. Trust me, I do. But I can't. I just can't. I make these small little targets for myself every day like 'Get dressed', 'Straighten your hair', 'Put on eyeliner', 'Don't eat any crisps'. And when I meet those targets I feel awesome. Until I realise they are shit targets. Hey, well done, you just did what all normal people do without any effort at all.

I keep pushing away the D-word. I don't want to label myself. I'm sad, I'm down, but this happens. This happened when I moved to Scotland the first time, but look what a life I made! I'll make it again. Scott reminded me of how lonely I was when I first moved there; he said I was so sad he was sure I was going to leave him and come back home. I didn't though; I slowly made those same kind of targets for myself - 'Catch the bus by yourself', 'Take a walk', 'Wash the dishes', 'Stop crying'. And each baby target met was a little crayon pulled out of the box lightly colouring in a corner in my grey life. As my confidence grew and friendships started forming, the colours became bolder and covered more and more of the page until the paper couldn't hold it all and I had to draw more pictures on more paper just to keep colouring.  I loved my art gallery of a life!

I'm back to my black empty line drawing on a white sheet of paper now. My crayons are sitting stubbornly in the box, as I grudgingly admit that I'm bringing this on myself. I don't want to be happy. I don't want to stop missing Scotland. I don't want to replace the amazing people in my life with new people. I haven't made an effort to settle here because I don't love it here. I'm afraid to make new friends in case I leave them too.

I've erected my own prison cell, and now I'm living inside it. And that makes me sad. But I have no strength to tear it back down. It's easier to eat a slice of cake and watch Netflix.

I promised Scott I'd set myself new targets. 'Make some friends.' 'Stop snacking between meals.' 'Get some exercise.' Today, even after we decided to skip church due to the weather, I fixed my hair and put on loads of eyeliner. I put on jeans that I like and a cardigan that made me feel cute. I didn't overeat. I had a good day with my kids and my step-mom at the cinema seeing Frozen. I let myself tear up at the sad parts. I feel okay. I'm not always depressed. I won't always be grey. I feel lonely a lot right now, but I know I don't have to feel alone. I need to give myself more time. I'm in a rush to be and have all that I was and had in my Scottish life, but that took time too. Time and tears. Tears aren't a bad thing, and neither is time.

Time is necessary. Tears are good, even the ones you don't understand. And sharing our tears is good. We are not alone. We should never feel alone.


And hey, toilet paper!