My littlest guy turned two! We had a party at the house with family. I held him while everyone gathered around so he could open presents. This is when I started having a level 12 hot flash. I started sweating profusely. I was fanning myself like a Southern woman in church, wiping sweat from my brow constantly. I finally had to get up and I walk to the back door, open it and lifted up my shirt to use the bottom of it to soak up the sweat puddles under my boobs. It was at this point my brother-in-law looked over to see what was going on. I also realized that our back door looks onto the backyards of like 5 different houses, so surely someone saw me feverishly patting my boobs dry with my shirt half up, exposing my belly. Classic old Mom story. The next day I wondered if anyone had invented boob meat soaker pads, because if they hadn’t, I would. Turns out someone has and I have since ordered them. What a time to be alive.
It is not just the hot flashes that are uncomfortable, it is the fact I am completely losing my mind that bothers me the most. I feel like someone slipping into dementia and just watching it happen. I sent out invites for my two years old’s birthday to everyone in the family and finally it was my Mother who asked why it was on that date, as it was nowhere near his birthday. And I just froze. I had totally got his birthday date wrong. I was in the right month but had used the date of my other kid’s birthday and supplanted it into May. Nothing shows your dementia hand more than having to go back to everyone on both sides of the family with a new date for your two year olds birthday because you apparently can’t keep your kid’s birthdays straight.
The same week I fucked up the birthday invites we misplaced my littlest guy’s hat. So I was sending him to daycare with a neck warmer on his head which looked like a tiny doo rag and I wondered long and hard what it would be like to be a type A Mom and just totally have your shit together. My neighbour across the street 1000% has her shit together. They have plans, schedules, she goes to the gym several times a week, her house is clean, her garage is immaculate and I just wonder what that is like. I can’t stick to a schedule to save my life. I feel like her house is polished and sturdy and mine is put together haphazardly with tape and popsicle sticks. My house looks like a war zone all the time, despite how often I clean. When I leave the house I may or may not remember an extra diaper for my kid and if I do, it is loosely in my purse, not in a well stocked diaper bag with all the things I could need. Just a single loose diaper and MAYBE wipes. Anyways, I am trying to embrace being a Type B mom and laugh at it a little, but I often wonder how the other half nails all this.
We were watching Frozen and my oldest yells, Mom why are you so much bigger than Elsa? I immediately wanted to die and then proceeded into a speech about how Disney doesn’t portray normal sized women and promotes female bodies that are not natural and likely impossible to achieve etc. But secretly just wished I could look a bit closer to Elsa than, I dunno, Shrek?
We were watching Little Mermaid (sounds like we just sit around watching Disney movies, which is hilarious because I hate Disney) and I realized I was old enough to really see that King Triton was a total Zaddy and actually pretty hot. I had no interest in Prince Eric. He was a baby. King Triton on the other hand, yowza, now we are talking.
We are also in the planning stages of buying a house. And by planning stages I mean we go look at houses we can afford and I make pained faces and hate them and then we come home and complain about the prices of houses. But we went to see a house recently that looked really great int he pictures and had a huge backyard. We met a young real estate agent there we had never met and went inside the house. The foyer closet was a bright orange, fake brick, plastic sliding door and I yelled, now that is a fucking choice! It was hideous. The house was so so so much smaller than it looked online. You walked into the house and you were like in a little entrance way, then a step later in the kitchen and then two steps later in the tiniest of living rooms. I wondered if one bedroom apartments were bigger than this place. As I puttered in the kitchen pretending to look interested but was really just dying to leave, the real estate agent told us the house was built in 1984. And I said loudly, what a great year!! The real estate agent said, is that the year you were born? I said yes! Both of us! He said, that was the year my Mom was born! And a very intense, loud, trying to be joking but came across aggressive – SHUT THE FUCK UP came out of my mouth. I could tell it was too harsh and tried to bring the mood up a bit but I could tell my partner was embarrassed. A semi normal occurrence whenever we are in public. Anyways, the houses are all small, old and expensive as fuck. This is my analysis of the housing market right now in case you needed a professional summary of it.
My new hobby after a glass or two of wine is to put books on hold at the library with the intention of reading them and then when they come in months later I am like what? Wtf? What is this book? It’s a pretty good time.
When I work from home, I start my day in my pyjamas, which is a button up, collared black classy pj shirt and no pants. My hair is a mess, I have no bra on and I am wearing no make up. On the very rare occasion someone wants to video call me during this time, I say sure – just one second and then I start yelling QUICK DRAG and run up the stairs to do the quickest possible put together possible. Hair, eye liner, tinted moisturizer – QUICK DRAG!
There is a group of old men who play soccer in the park and I am desperate to join this team. They have grey hair (same), beer guts (same) and have the ability to run short sprints and then potentially have a heart attack (same) so I think our athletic abilities match perfectly. I told my partner this was my league and he didn’t seem convinced. Then I asked him if he thought these old timers were in better shape than me and he quietly nodded. Which is fucking rude. But in all seriousness, I would likely need to wear a diaper playing that intense of a sport. I was playing soccer with the kids in the park once and ran really fast and kicked the ball and then immediately told everyone we had to go home right away to deal with a leakage issue. Goddddd being an aging woman is literally a calamity.
We went to Toronto last weekend with this kids and my take away from the trip, minus the fact that we had a great time, is that everything we did took forever. The trip down, instead of being 4 hours was like 6.5 hours. Because someone always had to pee, or was hungry and like we would stop and each take turns peeing and then by the time everyone was done, I wondered if I needed to pee again. And the cycle would start again. Also, I always forget about the traffic in Toronto. Just a hard WTF. How do people live there. The night before going to the zoo we looked it up and google maps confirmed it to be a 45 minute trip. So the next morning we got ready early to make the most of our day and then when we looked it up again, the trip was now 1 hour and 45 minutes. What?? We couldn’t lose that kind of time to get to the zoo so like suckers we took the toll roads. What a racket that is. Anyways besides my ADHD brain losing its mind because everything took forever, we had a great trip.
I was planning to take my Mom to get a pedicure in Carleton Place for Mother’s Day. We decided to do brunch first. My mom suggested we go to the the breakfast place right on the main street, Freshco. I told Mom that Freshco was a grocery store. But I knew the restaurant she was talking about, Freshii right? Anyways when we arrived it turns out it’s called Freska and we are both just have no idea what we are talking about.
I went out to another concert! It is so clear I never get out much at these events. I pregame fairly hard, even in the parking lot of the concert venue I was shotgunning gin cocktails. But before leaving my house I sneakily put two gaviscon into my back pocket and my partner was like woahhh, settle down! Are those for crushing up and snorting later? Party gal! Anyways I drank too much, danced my fucking face off to the Tea Party and had a great time. I also had the worst hangover I had endured in many years and vowed never to drink again. This proclamation lasted approximately 4 days.
My neighbours kids are really into sports. They follow professional sports and also participate in organized sports. My kids were out playing with their kids and my oldest was kicking a soccer ball yelling about how he was playing sports with a sports ball and it was so abundantly clear my kids have very little exposure to these things. Scoring sports goals with a sports ball into the sports net! Sports!
My partner gets a lot of cake like items from work. Last night he brought home a chocolate cake that the the kids had a slice of after dinner. We had already decided before dinner that we were going to go shopping for some kids’ shoes and winter gear. When we were out shopping my littlest guy kept putting on adult shoes and running around the store. My oldest boy would NOT try on any shoes that were not rainbow, unicorned or sparkly (we went home with silver sparkled shoes). We went to Carter’s for mitts and hats and my littlest started screaming, sat down and took off his shoes and socks and refused to put them back on as my oldest ran around the store screaming and pointing at everything that sparked his interest. Anyways by the time we got back in the car, dragging at least one screaming kid, I looked at my partner and said – watch as I feed my kids chocolate cake before going shopping, WELCOME TO JACKASS. Holy fuck, never again.
We bought a house! Jesus Christ. The agony of getting to this moment. We finally bought a house. It is a red brick semi-detached 1950’s house that has been completely updated on the inside. I am not sure there is anything more stressful than moving, but doing it with 2 kids and all their stuff, BRUTAL. My partner and I also broke up about 3 times leading up the move and during. 10 out 10 would recommend moving your whole life while in a fight with your partner. JK. Anyways, at no point did we have time to get the house ready so we are living out of boxes, with the tv on the floor and not a curtain rod in sight. My poor neighbours. I spend a lot of my time without pants on and they are all now painfully aware of this. And I get changed upstairs and realize there is a window that directly looks into the window of the house next door, which is inhabited by 4 guys as far as I can tell. So major apologies to those guys, they have def had an eye full. Because the house is old, it is full of eccentricities. Like no door closes properly, the staircase curves out when it shouldn’t, if the dryer is on the lights flicker in the basement, that kind of stuff. And we have noticed more and more that the renos that were done also have their eccentricities. Like they redid the kitchen flooring but didn’t complete behind the fridge or it appears there is a jagged wood wedge holding up the quartz counter top. Like hilarious. Thanks for coming out contractors. The bannister upstairs is also so short that the height of it is just under my butt so should I ever misstep I will be pinwheeled down the hardwood stairs. Death by cute old house. Anyways, the neighbourhood is interesting. My first morning working from home I opened all the windows in the office and thought, wow this is so peaceful ad lovely. And just then I heard someone cough aggressively and hack out some phlegm and I thought ok, this sums up the neighborhood perfectly, peaceful and lovely with a side of lung cancer.
