Tuesday, May 31, 2011


If you thought a terrorist cell was checking out your blog, would you report it to the FBI, CIA,MI5 or Canada's less well known intelligence agency the CSIS? hmmm... I wonder if the agents are called Csissies 'cause that would be like an oxymoron right?... well trimmed men with jacked up abs trained in hand to hand combat being called sissies.   I digress.

I was looking at the analytics on my blog and noticed that I had a number of hits from places like India, Sri Lanka, and the UK.  I like to pretend that I am a semi famous blogger whose blog is read all over the world (it kind of is if you count the odd friend I have living or traveling overseas) but I noticed something interesting about the statistic... all the hits were for the same page...the one that included a picture of a nuclear bomb going off.  Have I stumbled upon something?  Am I about to thwart a dastardly plan to blow up the USA? Is a SWAT team going to come crashing through the windows at any moment to confiscate my computer?  Will a black sedan with dark tinted windows drive up slowly next to me while its occupants jump out and grab me off the street in broad daylight?  Has my imagination run away with me again?  Most probably but if I go missing, you'll know why.


A friend of mine has graciously offered to redesign my blog for me.  How cool is that?  I think it's pretty amazing that:

  1. I know someone that can even do that (most of my friends don't even know what a blog is and I completely lose them when I suggest they follow me on a reader).
  2. She offered to do it....for free even!
My dilemma?  As this friend pointed out, the panic is long over and perhaps it was time to change the title to something that reflects my blog more appropriately.  I had been thinking about this myself for quite a while but since it wasn't a pressing matter, I didn't devote serious time to it.

So here's some suggestions I've been given

.- Blush Magnet
- It happened.  Believe it.
- I don't make this stuff up.
- Much Stranger than Fiction
- I'm Not Kidding
- Fionna's Believe it or Not (written in the Ripley's font, to tease)
- Awwwkward.
- The Insider's Guide to Awkwardness
- Bloopers are My Business
- Not your ordinary Mormon Mom Blog
- Making life funny. (This is a suggestion from someone who thinks it's funny because it is almost an acronym for MILF, as if I don't know what that means.)

I am open to suggestions or you can let me know your favourite from above.  An awesome prize goes to the namer of my blog so be sure to leave your name with your suggestion. 

Monday, May 30, 2011


I was afraid that growing up in the midst of four boys, my little girl would be a tomboy.  That was a waste of time. I couldn't have asked for a more girly girl.  In fact, our neighbor used to call her his 'little pink lady'.  One day upon seeing her in a little dress that wasn't pink he commented to her that he was surprised that she didn't have any pink on.  She promptly lifted her dress to proudly show off her pink knickers.

She may not have been a tomboy but having four brothers taught her to stand up for herself.  In grade four she wrote a letter of apology to her teacher after having been caught sharing a note with a friend that included some unkind language about another girl.  She explained in the letter to the teacher that she had not learned the language at home but from the teacher herself, and in grade two after hearing that her older brother was being bullied by a rather large kid she approached the boy in the school yard and told him him "Stay away from my brother you fat b@$*#!" I didn't find it funny at the time but I laugh about it now.  That girl had moxie.

She has a really soft and tender side too, quick to give a hug when needed and always ready with a listening ear. She is fiercely loyal to her friends, and family, especially her brothers and now her husband and daughter.  She values her role as a mother and is attentive and gentle with her daughter.

She has a brilliant sense of humour and we have shared more laughs together than any mother and daughter should (that's a hint that it's often inappropriate).  

She is a smart and confident young woman and I'm proud to call her my daughter.

Happy Birthday Brittany!

Sunday, May 29, 2011


My favourite quotes of the week.

WIlliam playing with a little pirate figurine.
Me: "Is that the evil pirate Will?"
William: "No!"
Brittany: "It's One Eyed Willie!"
Brittany in her best pirate voice: "One Eyed Willie is after me booty!"
We looked at each other and literally fell on the floor laughing (it helped that we were already on the floor). William laughed too but didn't get it. If you don't either, well good for you.

Emily and I playing a game on the xbox Kinect.

Me: "We're the first to play this level.  Let's try and get gold"
Emily: "Okay."
We played the level.
Me: "Hey, we got platinum!"
Emily: "Is that better than gold?"
She's a college graduate.

I stopped by Kere and Matthew's the other day just after William had gotten into a little trouble.

William: " I cut a hole in my underwear."
Me: "You did?
William: "Yep, with mommy's scissors."
Me: "That was naughty."
William: "Why did people make my underwear out of string?"

There's never a dull moment around here.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011


Just one last post on the whole Rapture (end of the world) thing.  I have been enjoying some of the photos I've seen floating around the internet after the prophecy fail.

Original billboard.

One that went up the next day,

Recycling a poster.

Even Fox News got in on the fun.

This should read 9:30 in Newfoundland.  Get your time zones right lady.

If I had been smart, I would have made this t-shirt to wear on Sunday.

I am done now with poking a bit of fun at the gentleman who wrongfully predicted the end of the world. I am sure he is a really nice man and I know he truly believed that he was doing us good by warning us of our impending doom.  He and his followers spent a lot of money to do just that.
The world didn't end as predicted but it certainly wouldn't hurt to be a little kinder to those we come in contact with and do what we can to make this world a better place.  
I was going to say that I would start by no longer mocking others but who am I kidding.  Look what I just wrote.

Saturday, May 21, 2011


I had it wrong yesterday.  According to the eBible Fellowship the actual end of the world will occur on October 21st.  I copied this time line from their website:

2011 AD—On May 21st, Judgment Day will begin and the rapture (the taking up into heaven of God’s elect people) will occur at the end of the 23-year great tribulation. On October 21st, the world will be destroyed by fire (7000 years from the flood; 13,023 years from creation).

So really, today (May 21st) was for the elect to be taken up to heaven.  In case you are wondering, I am writing this from home and not from cloud number nine or any other cloud for that matter.  I am sure you must be pretty worried because if I am still here (I am near to elect, well in my mind anyway) then your chances may be slim to none.  I guess when it comes down to it, if you are here, you were just not good enough.  I take comfort in the fact that it's all a load of bunk anyway.

Well, I'm off to go find Ian, I haven't seen him all day.  Ian?.... Ian?.... IAN???

Friday, May 20, 2011


Apparently the world is supposed to end tomorrow (May 21st, 2011) at 6:00 PM.  I don't know where the 6:00 PM thing came from (actually I don't know where the May 21st came from either for that matter). My question is this, is that Greenwich Mean Time or is it EST or MST?  What about New Zealand and Australia? They are almost a whole day ahead of us.  Does the world end on the 22nd for them?  Anyway, I'd kind of like to know so I can make plans for my day. Why bother taking meat out of the freezer to thaw when I won't even be using it.  Yeah, I don't have to make dinner!  Do I really believe the world will end tomorrow? No, not at all, but today I ate my favourite potato chips and enjoyed my favourite chocolate bar and I am about to go have a bowl of my favourite ice cream completely guilt free. I suggest you do the same.  Eat whatever you want, neglect your bills, your taxes, heck don't even bother showing up to work on the 21st. You may as well enjoy what could be your last day on earth.  I'd write more but I don't want my ice cream to melt.

Thursday, May 19, 2011


There was a time when I loved to go grocery shopping( I know, I'm weird), it was my night out when the kids were little and I got to spend money... guilt free!  That all changed when the kids were teenagers and it became a never ending chore.  There was the odd occasion when I could convince Ian to take on this odious task and it was always met with varying degrees of success.  The lists I would send with him may as well have been written in encrypted code and my pleas to stick strictly to the list fell on deaf ears.  He has gotten better over the years and no longer brings home twenty cans of something we will never eat just because said item was on clearance. "Can you believe how cheap this is?" he would ask.  I hated to crush the enthusiasm and pride in his deal finding skills so I would bite my tongue and shake my head in disbelief  that the grocery store would be so generous as to sell high quality no name spam for just fifty cents a can.  I have not however been able to curb his propensity for purchasing  expensive items such as cherries out of season and tins of Belgian chocolate biscuits.  I have to admit I enjoy sending him out for a few items at Christmas time just so I can see what unexpected goodies he will bring home. He never disappoints.

Today we went grocery shopping together.  I learned a couple of things.
1. I need to drive the cart, is that the right term?  I know cart etiquette(and there is a certain etiquette) and the route through the store.  Ian does not.
2. Ian rearranging the items in the cart as I put them in drives me crazy, I didn't tell him though because I'm a fairly  decent wife.  It is a wonder though that in the more than thirty years that I have done all the grocery shopping, I have managed to make it home without crushed bread or broken eggs...nay, it is a near miracle. How did I (and the food) survive all these years without him?

Sunday, May 15, 2011


I don't function that well when I haven't had enough sleep.  My family would agree and say I get cranky but really I don't, I tend to get quiet (mostly because I am busy biting my tongue because just about everything they do drives me crazy).  Fortunately for all of us, I usually manage to get adequate sleep except for when Ian is away like he was last night. It is then that my hyperactive imagination kicks into high gear and my sleep is fitful to say the least. Needless to say I was a little tired today.

While chatting to a young friend at church this morning I noticed she seemed a little down and not her usual bubbly self.  I asked her "Why so glum?"  My son Matthew answered for her "She has a pretty legitimate reason."
"Yeah, her dad died yesterday"
I knew that.

Later in the day, I took three of my grandkids to a birthday celebration for a one year old.  They had a great time and were especially thrilled when they received a little bag of goodies each to come home with.  I piled them into the car and was half way to their house when I heard a little voice from the back of the van.
"Uh oh Nona, I'm not buckled in!'
I immediately stopped the van and buckled William in.  He is usually so good at reminding us if he is not properly buckled into his seat but I think he was distracted with his bag of goodies.
"hmmm" I said "do you think we should tell mommy and daddy about this?"
"I'm telling them as soon as I get home!" was his reply.
Apparently, I wasn't getting away with it.
It was when I turned the corner onto the street they live on that I realized that I hadn't buckled Maia into her car seat either.
Imagine how excited I was to go in and make that confession to their parents.

I'm laying low for the rest of the day.

Saturday, May 7, 2011


Note to self: Do no write a blog right before bedtime.

After writing last night's post, I had a dream that I was in Wal-mart talking on my cell phone when I spotted a lady walking around the store smoking a cigarette.  I was shocked!  Other people were just giving her dirty looks but I felt I needed to say something so I told the person I was on the phone with to hold for a second and proceeded to tell the lady off.  She told me to mind my own business.  I threatened that I would call security and she hurried off while I shouted after her to hold on for a second all the while trying to pull the camera up on my cell phone. I even yelled to her "Wait! I need to get a picture for my blog."

Now on to the real subject of this post.

On the Saturday before Mother's Day when Adam was six, I was left home alone with our three oldest boys while Ian and Brittany attended his sister's wedding in Utah (Brittany was under two so could fly for free).  I was about eight months pregnant with our youngest and feeling every bit as tired as you would expect (especially when you consider my husband left me alone... on Mother's Day... with three little boys).  The day was sunny and warm so I suggested to the boys that we have a little picnic lunch in the back yard.  The two younger ones were thrilled at the idea but Adam wanted no part of it.  Democracy rules in our house when the vote swings in my favour so a picnic it was to be.  Adam was not happy and no amount of cajoling could convince him otherwise.  I busily prepared our lunch while he sulked.  I washed and cut up fruit and made a platter of sandwiches with the crusts cut off even.  I asked Adam to take the tray of sandwiches out to the picnic table for me.  I opened the door for him and went to the sink to make up some drink.  I watched from the window as Adam walked half way to the picnic table, stop, then deliberately turn the platter upside down spilling all the sandwiches onto the ground.  I lost it.  You would not have believed a pregnant woman could move so fast.  I was out that door and right behind him almost before the last sandwich hit the ground and I am not proud to say that  I nearly lifted him off his feet when my hand hit his backside all the while berating him for being so naughty.  It was at this point that I heard someone clearing their throat right behind me.  I turned in shock to discover a delivery man holding out a bouquet of flowers. "Happy Mother's Day?"  I still cringe when I think of it now.

Friday, May 6, 2011


I have had a few memorable Mother's Days over the years.  There was the year it wasn't even acknowledged (I gave my family the silent treatment for three days until I realized they either didn't notice or were enjoying the silence entirely too much) and then there was the year I had to make dinner because the boys and their father were watching the NBA play offs and totally forgot (yeah right) that they were in charge of the meal making.  There are two particular years however that stand out in my memory and that I deem blog worthy. The first occurred when Matthew was about fourteen.  Steaks had been purchased to celebrate the day and I had resigned myself to the fact  that I would be grilling them because Ian refused to go near the barbecue (he'll barbecue now if I light it first).  To my surprise, Matthew announced that he was going to do the grilling and I was to just sit and relax.  What a sweetheart.  I was feeling a little trepidatious though as Matthew had never really used the barbecue unsupervised before.

"When you light the barbecue you have to be sure..."

"Mom, I know how to light it."

"You need to make sure though..."

"Mom, I know what to do."

"But I just want to make sure that you..."

"Mom trust me, I know what I am doing."

"I know but the igniter isn't..."

"Mom, I know what I'm doing!"

Out the door he went with Nathan following right behind him.

 Two minutes later the door flew open and Nathan ran in, breathless.

"Mom!" he yelled "You should see Matthew."

I jumped from my chair and ran to the door and almost ran into Matthew coming back inside, hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes singed.

When I regained control of my laughter, I cooked the steaks. I laughed for days afterwards until his eyebrows and eyelashes grew back in.  I know you're probably judging me right about now after all what kind of mother laughs at her son almost having his face blown off?  The same kind of mother that... oh wait, that's tomorrow's post.

Thursday, May 5, 2011


In honour of Mother's Day this weekend  I took some old adages and changed them to reflect my experiences as a mother to four rambunctious boys and one sweet little girl.  No comments on the do.

  • Silence is golden. - Silence is trouble in the making.
  • A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down. - A spoonful of sugar makes the kids bounce off the walls.
  • An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. - An ounce of prevention means locking away crayons and scissors.
  • A closed mouth gathers no foot. - A closed mouth is hiding tiny choke inducing objects.
  • A job worth doing is worth doing well. - A job worth doing is going to be done by the mom.
  • A rolling stone gathers no moss. - A rolling stone smashes windows.
  • A thing of beauty is a joy forever. - A thing of beauty won't last long.
  • Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. - Early to bed and early to rise just about kills a young mother.
  • Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings. - Every time a bell rings it's probably an angry neighbour.
  • Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. - Hell hath no fury like a tired two year old.
  • Hard work never hurt anybody. - Hard work apparently kills teenagers.
  • If it ain't broke don't fix it. - If it ain't broke, it soon will be.
  • The more the merrier. - The more the scarier.
  • You snooze, you lose. - You snooze, you'll pay for it.

There is no job more exasperating  rewarding in the whole world.  How very lucky I am to have 5 of the most wonderful people on the planet for my children.