Friday, February 15, 2008

Every time there is a holiday or ‘special’ date on the calendar, I know that Oliver is going to come home from daycare with some goodies, and I am going to register a little guilt. But just a little. See, the parents of the other children in his class have their act together, and obviously a lot of time to spend in the dollar store, as they like to put together these little goody bags for each occasion. So whether it’s Christmas or Valentine’s Day, he comes home with these treats, and we send the minimum requirement – Happy Holiday cards to each kid in December, Mickey Mouse valentine cards yesterday (“I’m so glad we’re friends” messages seemed more appropriate than the first box I picked up, the Harley Davidson themed ones that mentioned “revving my engine” and such, ugh, they’re only 2 years old!). And I sort of feel bad, when I open up a little treat bag for Oliver containing stickers, a pencil, a lollipop and chocolate (for mummy to eat, ha ha ha). But then, I don’t have a bunch of expendable income to give to a large group of 2 year olds. So I don’t feel that bad, I have enough other mummy guilt to carry already. We will just uphold our reputation as the cheap parents.


Finances stress me out. I feel uneasy unless I have a certain amount in my savings account, and manageable or no debt. Going in to my mat leave, I had a little savings, and no debt. This is about to change, unfortunately. Even though we are the cheap parents. We basically can not manage our expenses this year, and I’m going to have to write myself a damn credit card access cheque or something (0.99% interest until January 2009, at least). This week, our hot water heater broke. It’s a rental, so you’d think it would be an easy and cheap situation to rectify. Several visits to fix it later, we now have a new hot water heater in a new location in the basement, and a bill for $1000. Not only that, to get them to do it, we had to buy a snow blower to clear the driveway, and that was another $1000.

It was sort of ridiculous that we didn’t have a snow blower already. This is the snowiest February in Ontario, like, ever, and we were starting to get stuck in the driveway. Four wheel drive SUVs were defeated. We couldn’t really be in denial about the footage of snow anymore, so I am happy we actually have a driveway again. But the timing of the expense? BAD.

March is a month where a significant part of my pension payment is due, along with excessive daycare charges (for Oliver going back to full time for a few weeks, and for Callum’s down payment to reserve a spot for him in October). And our presence is required in England in July, the most expensive time to go, as Mark is in his best friends’ wedding. Sometime soon we are going to have to book those tickets. So we are basically screwed. And I really hate being in debt.


It’s a long weekend. For the first time, Monday is Family Day in Ontario. Thanks, Dalton! (I just thought – marketing hasn’t caught up with the new holiday – do you think they are going to start having Happy Family Day greeting cards – and therefore more goody bags at daycare?!?!) If I was at work, I would be very happy to have Family Day. Of course, in our current circumstances, it’s called Yet Another Day Tagged Onto The Weekend Where We Try Our Best To Entertain The Toddler And Avoid Too Many Tantrums While Also Trying To Pay At Least A Little Attention To The Baby.

We do have one big thing to look forward to this weekend. When we moved into this house almost a year ago (oh god, almost a year, and we still haven’t finished unpacking, I’m going to go shoot myself now), our real estate agent gave us a very generous gift that included a large gift certificate to a local upscale restaurant. I didn’t want to go until I could enjoy some alcohol, so my mother is generously going to look after the boys for a few hours tomorrow night, and we are going to eat and drink a lot.


They say you forget the pain of childbirth. I can’t really say I’ve forgotten it. What I did forget about is the massive postnatal hair shed. Jesus, there is giant clumps coming out of my head. My hair is everywhere – in Callum’s tightly wound fists, mixed in with his neck cheese, stuck to Oliver’s clothes, in our dinner, clogging the dishwasher filter, literally everywhere. I need a hair net or something. At this point, last time, I cut all my hair off. I don’t want to do that again, but I am so sick of the hair loss!

One Response to “randomness”

  1. Maria Says:

    Great. I had forgotten about the postnatal almost balding nightmare – I don’t think I have enough time to grow it back before it will all fall out again! 😦 Why is that necessary?

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