Friday, January 26, 2007

Arrrr Matey

It is COLD here. We can't do much when its -18c (0 f.) outside. So you make the best of it.

Last night we played pirates with the kids. I downloaded a whole bunch of pirate music and played it loudly while we had an adventure on the high seas on our ship/sectional sofa, The Bonnie Lass. We made paper pirate hats (we ruined a whole, unread newspaper trying to remember how to do it) and paper telescopes. Since we were short on cast members, we had to make do with what we had. Note that SOME people played multiple roles:

Daddy: Pirate Captain Daddy

The Kids: Buccaneers (we made them interview for their jobs, lol. They had no idea why we wanted to call their 'references', and why we were asking them if they could swim, ha ha.)

Me: Pirate First Mate Mommy
and The Shark
and The Dolphin
and The Shark pretending to be The Dolphin
and The Octopus
and The Crocodile
and The Giant Squid
and The Snoring Sea Creature
and a cameo as a Land Lubbin' Bar Maid. (My multiple personalities are very happy.)

We all pretended to drink a ton of Pirate's Mead (I have no idea what that is, nor do my kids, but in retrospect it could be alcoholic. Oops!) That would explain the injurious jig we broke into.

We faced a storm and an array of creatures (see my roles, above) and walked the plank. Okay, I walked the plank. The kids refused, no matter how fun I told them it was. They've obviously seen this done before.

We all fell overboard during the hurricane. This was problematic when the shark arrived. (You should have heard them scream, LMFAO! Revenge for the plank...)

We found the treasure and then had Crocodile Crunch (Rolo ice cream) as our reward.

Which reminds me, I have to stop by the store to buy some aluminum foil. Tonight, it's aliens.

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Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Careers Day

Like every mother, I have high hopes for my children. I don't buy into any of that frilly "I'm just a girl so don't expect too much from me" b/s, nor do I think a woman's ONLY aspiration should be to one day *get married*. A woman does not become a person once she is a wife. You're a whole person, with value and hope and a soul from the moment you are born, whether male or female.

And if you find someone to share your journey, that should be a bonus. But you must love and rely on yourself FIRST.

This is how I am raising my kids. Affectionate but empowered. In charge of their own destinies. Aware of their potential and their choices. So just for fun, I asked my kids what they wanted to be when they grew up. Here are their answers:

Nicky, age 2: A diesel engineer. (*very nice, i approve*)

Joey, age 5: A photographer. (*ooh, creative, i'm so proud*)

Natalie, age 2: A princess. (*whatthef**k!?*)

Ok, where did I go wrong here!? Haven't I repeatedly told my daughter that she is intelligent and brave and more than just a pretty face!? That there is no "prince charming" to give you money and to make decisions for you!? That life is not just about pretty shoes dammit?!

But that's know Franny, she doesn't give up. In my happy voice, I explained to Natalie that maybe, since she was such a good healer and full of caring, that she might like to one day be a doctor, and help people's boo-boos feel better? I could see her considering this, and to sweeten the deal, I threw in the only weapon in my arsenal:

"Hey, how would you like to be a Dr. Princess?"

"Oooh yes! I wanna be a Dr. Princess when I grow up!" She squealed. (*ha ha, i win*)

Hey, its a start.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Pillow Talk

Another real-time discussion starring Franny and Hubby:

Me: Honey, can I ask you an important question?

Hubby: Sure. Anything darling.

Me: Okay, here it is. Would you sign your soul over to me?

Hubby: *romantically* Of course I would.

Me: *smacks hubby* What are you, stupid?!!?

Hubby: But I trust you!!

Me: That's not trust, that's idiotic! I wouldn't sign my soul over to YOU! What if you were pissed at me one day, and you tore it up and chucked it in the sewer, just to be mean?

Hubby: *laughing* I wouldn't do that!

Me: What if you were short a ticket for the GO Train and you saw the ticket taker nearby and you validated my soul for the ride instead!? Then I'd be up shit creek without a soul! For a friggin TRAIN RIDE! Or what if some hoochie gets with you and just for fun she says "ooh baby, lets have sex on your wife's soul!" Like EW! That's my SOUL we're talking about! I don't want you and some floozy doing it on my soul!

*dying of laughter*

Me: Don't take it personal, but you don't trust your soul with ANYONE! Geez, think about it! If I had your soul, you would have to walk around all the time feeling like there was a sniper in a tower aiming at you for the rest of your life! You'd have to watch every step, because I could send you to hell on a whim!

Hubby: Did you hear that? It's the sound of a knife being shoved in my back!

Me: *muttering* I still can't believe you said you would sign your soul over to me! You're bloody insane!

And what would you have said if I had said that I WOULDN'T sign my soul over to you?

I would have been mad as hell!

Hubby: So basically, the right answer doesn't exist.

Precisely. If you say yes, you have no balls. If you say no, you're a heartless jerk.

Hubby: Insightful - nice to know I lose no matter what. But what if we're soulmates and we already own each other's souls, whether we like it or not? And if we put our souls together in a drawer, will they multiply like rabbits, making dozens of little souls?

Hmm...I don't think souls have sex. I assume they relate on a higher level than that. I just can't see souls getting jiggy.

Hubby: *laughing* You're gonna blog this, aren't you?

What makes you say that???

Friday, January 12, 2007

How to Kiss Your Wife

1. Come home from work wearing an adorable, mischievious grin. Don't explain it.

2. Help make dinner.

3. Put the kids to bed early. Ignore their protests.

4. Tell wife she is beautiful.

5. Lean her back against the wall (because her knees are gonna buckle)

6. Place a hand behind her head, at the nape of her neck. Gently tangle fingers in her hair.

7. Look deeply into her eyes.

8. Slowly tilt head. Move in closer.

9. Touch lips, starting slow and tenative.

10. Build momentum, holding her like she is your very breath.

11. Allow hands to travel. Use your palms.

12. Reap your reward.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

A Tale of Two Frannys

I write a lot of fiction, and publish it online. Not stuff that any of you will ever see (sorry!) because that's a different world from this one. My two (or more) personalities, and their rabid followers, shall never meet. I have a reputation to maintain here. Think of it as having a spouse and a lover. You don't want them hanging out and swapping tales, you know what I mean? Eg:

Blog reader: You know Franny?
Fiction reader: Sure I know Franny! YOU know Franny?
Blog reader: Yeah, we blog...she's very open and funny!
Fiction reader: No, no, she writes fiction. She's dark and dramatic!
Blog reader: OPEN AND FUNNY!
Fiction reader: DARK AND DRAMATIC!
Blog reader: Fine! I'll read yours and you read mine.
Fiction reader: Fine!
Both (after reading alternate universe): WHAT CRAP!
Fiction reader: (*sobbing*) Can't believe we've been had...
Blog reader: (*angry*) I know, let's both ditch Franny and shack up together! That'll show her!

See what I mean? I lose in the end. So my apologies to my blog friends, but know that you are blessed for not having to read my angsty, melodramatic, NC-17 fiction. You only have to listen to my PG-13 non-fiction tripe. However, I'll say this. There is one person who has visited both worlds and come out alive and sane on the other end. He has sparkling eyes and a smile that lights up a room.

And he thinks both Frannys are keepers.

Monday, January 08, 2007

Other People's Resolutions

I've spent the last 8 days determining what other people's resolutions for the new year are, just by "studying" their behaviour in their natural habitat. I am proud to list my findings below:

My son Joey resolved to give his mom a heart attack by offering to scrub crayon off of all the walls, and then thoroughly enjoying doing it.

The evil bitch at work resolved to be eviller and more bitchy, ensuring herself a spot in Satan's All-Damned Lava backstroke competition.

My nice coworker resolved to get me to run off with him to Tahiti by the end of the week by doing all my tasks for me while I was off sick.

My husband resolved to be cute and scruffy. (He's faithfully kept this resolution for 14 years and counting.)

My son Nicky resolved to be more affectionate, while his twin sister resolved to suck the life out of her exasperated parents with her unreasonable emotional demands.

The girl at McDonald's resolved to ask every customer four times what they ordered, and then screw the order up anyways. Her boss resolved to encourage this behavior.

My son's fish resolved to commit suicide.


Just call me a student of human nature...

Monday, January 01, 2007


New Year's Eve this year was the biggest bust ever. Good god, I need a shrink. Just as we were getting ready to go out, Nicky vomited on the couch, and then celebrated the last day of the year by puking no less than six times on a variety of plush surfaces. At around puke 3 or 4, his sister split open her toe tripping over some yet unidentified toy. (We were cleaning up puke at the time, so I'm still not sure how she injured herself, and she was too busy screeching to explain.)

So naturally, all our plans went to hell. We just couldn't leave the kids in such a state. We told my MIL she didn't have to babysit anymore, and I spent the final hours of the year rocking my weak and limp son, singing his favorite song, "One, Two, Buckle my Shoe", while my husband mopped and scrubbed and ran load after load of laundry.

When the house disinfecting was done, my hubby got some takeout and we flicked channels, watching a little "Robin Hood, Men in Tights", which happened to be on TV. At 11:58 pm, we pulled out the sparkling peach juice. At midnight we mumbled 'Happy New Year'. By 12:06am we were in bed. Pathetic, eh? Though, if I'm honest, I kinda enjoyed rocking my weary, sick little boy while he stared at me, silent gratitude shining in his little eyes. I know he was happy mommy didn't leave him.

Anyhow, I HAD a great idea about making a resolution to add more music to my life this year. Either take up piano, or play more guitar, or write a song, or listen to music I'm not sure I like each day, etc etc. But in light of recent events, I have since amended this resolution for something far more practical.

2007 is the year I grow another arm. I'm not unrealistic, I know two more arms is maybe asking for too much. One more is really all I need anyways: three kids, three arms, it makes sense. I know it'll be hard, but once I get my mind set on a goal, there's no stopping me.

And if that arm knows how to play piano, bonus! Happy New Year everyone!