To Heck with the Dress.

I'm in a bit of a conundrum. Is that how you even spell conundrum? I have a wedding to go to this summer and I need a dress. I was thinking a sundress. I was thinking that I would walk into the mall and purchase a sundress. I was wrong.

I have been kinda looking for this dress a couple of times now. I've been to two or three shops, good ones, that actually sell dresses but I'm struggling.

Now, I'm not an old lady. But I'm not super trendy. I am the jeans and t-shirt mom. They're nice jeans and a clean t-shirt (most days) but I don't wear super-trendy stuff. So buying a dress is a problem.
.

Dilemma #1:
I saw a cute dress today in the window of a shop at the mall. The mannequin was wearing it. She lookrd nice, despite her lack of a head. I stood there and stared....

What kind of a bra do you wear with that? Do you wear one at all? This is a problem. Now the dress I saw was not the dresses pictured below exactly, but the neck line was the same. Please, I'm begging you, educate me on what sort of undergarment goes with this??

Can anyone help me here?

Then I see these in the store and I think I actually shuddered:

Oh heavens.

Yes, these are acid-washed leggings. I am afraid of these. Can you imagine trying these on, let alone purchasing them?

Dilemma #2:
This is about boobs. I don't want to show my boobs. And frankly, I'm tired of seeing other women's boobs.
And I don't want to wear a strapless dress. But there are very few dresses out there that are not strapless. In my opinion, there are only two options when wearing a strapless dress:
a. you end up hiking up the front of your dress all day

or

b. the dress is so tight it stays up, however, it's so tight, you get back-fat bunching up above the top of the dress. Believe me, I've seen it. It's not the look I'm after.

Dilemma #3:
Dresses that are so short they are actually shirts. I'm seeing this everywhere I go. Do women not have to bend over anymore? How on earth would I pick up my one year old son wearing a dress like that? Are you supposed to wear little leggings underneath it?

Are their classes on this stuff I can sign up for?

Dilemma #4:
I bought a dress last week. At the grocery store. I know, I know, I can do better. But it was one of those cute t-shirt style dresses and I liked it...and it was like $14, so I threw it in with the bananas and the diapers.
I get home. I put on the dress. I go outside and catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection off our black truck. I am in need of a slip.
Do girls these days even know about slips? Is this like, so out of date it's like mentioning a corset? Oh wait, corsets are back....we just call them Spanx now.

So I went in the house and put on a slip. I had to do some serious digging to find it.

I'm not trying to rant or rave or be silly here, my dear reader. I'm honestly wondering what to do. Is there some way of getting an education on these issues before going out into public and making a complete fool of myself?

Or should I just go to the wedding in some nice linen pants and a cute top?

I'm counting on you to comment here. I'm begging, pleading, typing on my knees right now...

Help wanted. Help NEEDED!

One more.

Tonight is my last night alone.

He-Who-Cannot-Be-Mentioned is coming home. For you readers who were not aware of his absence, he has been away. Far far away. Never this far before, ever. (overseas)

But seeing as I can't speak of him, I've already said too much.
(He was on a missions trip to Ukraine.)

But he's been away for two weeks. Two long weeks. I've gotten much accomplished in these two weeks like:
-staying alive and keeping five kids alive
-making fairly crappy meals for me and five kids
-cleaning the van (that is an accomplishment)
-making jam
-spending money
-going to the Toronto Zoo and Hockey Hall of Fame
-cutting the grass, twice.
-having the van fixed
-crying myself to sleep, okay, may be not, but I did think about it
-hanging out with my sister and her kids, almost every day for two weeks
-cleaning up the barf of three kids...not a good time

So, all in all, not an entirely wasted two weeks.

I am excited. Tomorrow is the big day. He returns home.

But I did NOT mention him here. You've never even heard of him. He doesn't exist in the cyber-world.

This post did not happen.

History Repeating...

On Monday my sister and I took all our kids to the Toronto Zoo. I love the zoo. But it wasn't always that way.

Many years ago, I went to the zoo, again with my sister...and her grade 2 class. That made me about 4 years old. My mom was one of the trip moms so I got to go too. My only memory from that trip is of a dark and scary hallway of an exhibit that had glass cases on either side full of snakes, lizards and bugs.

I hated snakes, lizards and bugs. Still do.

I can recall myself, covering my face with my hands, being led by my mother down this hallway, crying my little eyes out. It was a horrible experience. I was very afraid and no amount of rational talk from my mother would calm me down. Fear is not rational, I have discovered.

So, on Monday, I walk into the same exhibit and immediately know for a fact that this is where I had my four-year-old melt down. This was the place. I did not want to go in. But I faced my fears and walked down the hallway of hell like a grown-up should.

Only moments before, history had repeated itself.

My daughter is freaked out by the Komodo Dragon. We went into that exhibit and she lost it. Tears, weeping, gnashing of teeth....the whole show. I could only get her to go through the exhibit by having her cover her face while I led her, protecting her with my body, to the end of the glass cage. Then she was fine. Sorta. At least the wailing stopped.

It was kinda funny just because I know how she felt...exactly how she felt. Fear is not rational. She did know that the Komodo wasn't getting out, she did know that it wouldn't eat her then and there but it did not matter. Even when it was bed time and the lights went out, we had a little chat about the Komodo dragon not coming and hiding in her bed. Here's how it went down...

Me: "So, even if the Komodo got out of his cage, do you think he could come to our house?"

She: "May be."

Me: "He can't."

She: "Why not?"

Me: "Because if he got out, he'd never survive walking down the 401 to get here. He'd die."

She: "Oh. Really??"

Me: "Yep. He'd eat someone in Mississauga or Guelph first and wouldn't even make it to London."

Nice, eh?? Good thing we don't live close to the zoo.

In a Jam.

So today I made jam. Strawberry jam. The strawberries are in season early here, so I ran out to our local grower, The Heeman Family, and I bought a flat of beautiful red berries.

A while ago I was at my mom's and she had the most delicious homemade strawberry jam in her fridge. I ate some and felt like I'd had a burst of summer in my mouth. I asked who made it, got the recipe and was VERY excited to make this myself.

While looking on the Heeman's website, they recommended a different jam recipe, saying that it was by far the best recipe the Heeman family had ever used. That's a pretty big statement coming from strawberry experts like them.

So I decided to try both. A batch of each...and see who won this duel.

The first recipe from my mom's friend (Type A) required 4 cups of strawberries and 7 cups of sugar. Whoa. I like white sugar but even for me, that's a lot of sugar.

The second type, let's call it Type B (ingenious, I know) was far less sugar. Four cups of berries to a measly 1.5 cups of sugar. That's a big difference.

I made the first batch - it's the kind you cook and the jars have to seal and all that jazz. Total time: 1 hr. and a half. Not bad. It looked like jam. The only complaint was that it boiled over on my stove top and made a nasty red mess. Not really the jam's fault.

Type B took about 20 minutes total. Again, quite a different amount. It was simple. Basically you mash, then you stir. You stir again. You place in jars. No boiling over. Not even a chance of being burned by boiling strawberry goo.

Results: Turns out I doubled Type A because I don't know why. I have 18 jars of Type A Jam.
Type B, well, I was running low on berries by this point, so I only made 5 jars.

So about five minutes ago, I laid out a piece of brown bread, cut it in half, and put Type A on one chunk and Type B on the other. The official taste test.

Type B looked nice. I ate it first. It was so so so good. Like eating summer from a jar.

Type A looked nice. I ate it next. It tasted like strawberry jam with about 7 cups of sugar in it. I think I tasted strawberry. Mostly I tasted sweet.

So now I have 18 jars of jam I don't really like and 5 jars of jam I will never share. So if you want some strawberry jam, let me know. It's free. I just need to have the jar back so I can fill it with the good jam.

Seriously, you can have some. I'll even drop it off. For all I care, you can dump it in the garbage. I am very disappointed. Not to the point of tears or anything, but really, 18 jars of the lesser jam? What a waste.

If you want the recipe of the good jam, let me know. I'll save you the hassle!

Scary Flower

I have issues with certain types of flowers. Some flowers totally freak me out. I don't know what it is about these flowers in particular but they will never ever be in my home or garden.

The first flower I dislike because it weirds me out is this one:

The Iris. Hate it. It looks like a dragon ready to eat me.

I also have problems with this one:It's not a great pic...but it's a Yucca plant. This plant is scary. Even the name describes it. Yucca.

I have issues with almost all succulents and cacti. If I go into a store and they have those mini cacti in pots, I walk waaaaay around them. You're not touching me with your hideous prickly hairs, nasty plant. Here are a few...

This one is going to grab me as I walk by.




Disgusting.

I get the heebie-geebies just looking at the fat leaves and gross colour. I can barely look at my own computer screen right now.
I'm going to barf.

There are other flowers I hate as well. For various reasons.

I hate gladioli...These poor flowers aren't scary to me, but they are in every single funeral flower arrangement ever. Poor things. Everyone associates them with death. They'll never grow in my garden.

I also strongly dislike begonias. They make me shudder.

But my most hated flower in the world, I don't even know the name of. I just know it by seeing it.
You see, growing up in south London in our family home, my sister and I shared a room. This room had three pink walls and one wall of wallpaper. And what was on this wallpaper?? Flowers. All in different shades of pink -- a tone on tone sort of affair. Some of the flowers were happy nice flowers but there was this one flower in the wall paper that my sister and I HATED. It was so freaky. We wouldn't touch it on the wall. It was the one that grew tentacles out of itself at night and wrapped them around our tender young necks and strangled us. It was the one that bugs poured out of and snakes slept in. It was evil. We hated that flower and so we hated that wall paper.

The funny thing about it was these feelings were generally unsaid between us. It was just understood. We hated the bad flower. Recently, we spoke of it. That dang, nightmare creating flower. And we laughed our heads off. And our mother....she thought we'd gone crazy. But she did remember the wallpaper.

So my childhood has definitely altered any normal feelings towards flowers. I am a freak. I blame in on the wall paper of 26 Fennell Cres. I may seek therapy about this. Help us all if the scary flower really does exist.

Guess Who's One!

Tasting the cupcake...

Scarfing the cupcake...

Wearing the cupcake...

And again...

Turns out he really, really likes dirt.

Is this normal?

I think this is third time I've caught him...
Apparently it tastes good to an almost-one-year old.
Ya got a little something on your face, buddy.