Dinos Don't Hibernate

On these miserable snowy dismal GRAY cloudy overcast blizzardy days (I didn't overdo it there, did I?), we prefer to be inside. Especially with a cranky irritable creature who has a cold.

Oh, yeah, and Evan has a cold too. So we're staying inside.

BUT! We have a whole army of dinosaurs to deal with. And that means there's always something going on! Let's go see what they're up to today....

Round up the soldiers! ATTENTION! Inspect the troops!

Hmmmm.... a little messy there, guys.

What's up with that?!?

Medics on the scene!

Oh, just the young'uns. It looks like we have some eggs hatching and other little ones running around. Perhaps they have colds, too?

That's strange. There's not a lot of medical stuff going on.

In fact, look at the medic in the hat. He's TOTALLY checking out the Dino Liaison Officer!

He's totally scamming on her!

What is UP with that???

Sure, she's cute, but you have a job to do. Besides, she's obviously not interested.

Seriously, dude! Pay attention to the dinos.

Back to work!!!

(Sigh.)

Am I the only one who thinks that's a little creepy?

Wordless Wednesday

Welcome 2010!

It's day 2 of the new year and we're trapped... snowed in... snow up to *here*.

So far, this year is off to a blustery start. Not that I'm complaining. After all, what's to complain about being trapped with your preschooler while a nor'easter gusts and swirls snow unendingly around you, when the novelty of brand spankin' new Christmas gifts have already worn off? Or, that he's throwing himself on the floor, sliding down the hardwood to see how far he can go, and then crying that his legs hurt? And then does it again? Or when he shoves a dinosaur in his ear and then screams with pain? And then fusses while we check inside his ear with his new lego-man keychain-flashlight (yes, you read that right) to look for blood or seeping fluid (possibly brain)?

That's when I break out the chocolate. For me, not him. He doesn't need anymore encouragement.

And it's still snowing.

It's rather disconcerting when the national weather forecast for the region uses the words "astronomical" when describing the tides and storm surges expected for the day, and winds up to 100 km per hour (approximately 60 mph). People are warned to stay away from the coastal areas. Yay me.

Luckily, we're far enough away from the beaches that even if the sea level raises several dozen feet or there's a tidal wave we won't be affected. And frankly, the snow that has fallen so gently and lays so heavily across the yard and fields and roads will in all probability stop the water from reaching us.

I feel better now.

I'm not entirely sure how much snow has fallen... it's hard to judge precisely because we've shoveled and plowed and shoveled again, so there's snow banks and far-flung shovelfuls of fluffy white everywhere. At 7:30 pm, Atlantic time, I measured 46 cms (18 inches). That's much more than the predicted 30 cms (12 inches). Granted, it's not that much snow. But it is to have it all fall at once. In one day. And it rather startled me when I stepped off the porch and saw my boots disappear. Yes, it reached my knees.

And it's still falling. The areas I shoveled right down to the ground are now over my boot-tops. But we're fine. In fact, I just heard the snowplow go by. Again. Not that one could tell.

Happy new year!

Looking For My Happy

Christmas is fast approaching. As I write this, my countdown says "21 days, 13 hours" and so many minutes and seconds left. It doesn't sound like a lot of time. But it feels it. And my Christmas spirit has yet to appear in all it's glorious splendor.

I don't know if its all the rain, or my feelings of isolation, or having a 3 year old paleontologist-wannabe in my house, or the dinosaur that was dropped in a (used) toilet this morning and required extra scrubbing and bleaching, or the cat scratching Evan again, or the tears and despair that accompanied it all (some of them Evan's).... frankly, it's been an un-fun beginning-of-the-end of the year.

2009 started out crappy. Let's just call a spade a spade, shall we? There's been a lot of un-good things going on. I don't want to whine and bitch (too much) so I'm not going into it all. Suffice it to say, death and destruction has been a major theme.

I have been looking for my happy. Truly. I've been trying really hard. And in the end, here I am--same person, same headspace. My happy is as elusive as are the words I'm struggling to find right now.

The bottom line: I need inspiration... inspiration not only for the season, but for moving forward--becoming better... finding "happy".

If happiness is a choice, then I choose it:

You hear me, gods of the overworld and underworld? I choose happy! So get out of my way and just let me have it!

In the meantime, one thing at a time, one day at a time, one moment at a time.

This moment is for me to just shut up and start creating an atmosphere of: joy ... gratitude ... peace ... love -- for both me and my son.

All He Wants For Christmas Is A Dinosaur

This wonderful, beautiful holiday season of giving (and receiving, apparently) is around the corner, heralded by a multitude of commericals geared towards little ones and created to stimulate their every "need". It's also a hard time of year for them, to constantly hear "No. No! NO!"

Poor, poor things!

Evan took a census count and concluded he does not meet his quota for dinosaur species. He has determined that he needs a Carnotaur, a Ceratosaur, and several Spinosaurs (in varying poses of "running", "chasing", and "eating"). He has presented his argument eloquently -- "Please, Mom, PLEASE!" -- and often.

Here is my official rebuttal: "You have so many dinosaurs, Evan, that they are unable to live acceptably with each other anymore. Some are crawling away to take refuge with the dust bunnies."

Evan: "What are dust bunnies? We have rabbits under our couch?! Where? Let's get them out!"

WackyMummy: "Evan, they have given up all hope of living. The asteroids hitting the earth didn't kill them off; they simply got so sick of each other and their crowded conditions that they just laid down and died. Just as they are doing now. In our living room."

Evan: "Grrrrrr! RRROOOOWWWWWRRRRRRRRR!"

(Hmmmm. Hard to argue with that last one.)

WackyMummy: "Evan. This has to stop. They're eating each other! Even the mighty T-Rex has been brought down by hunger, overcrowding, and loss of hope. A small but ferocious Dilophosaurus has defeated a fierce predator. The madness must end!"

Evan: "???"

Sigh. Don't you just love Christmas?!

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Real Life Breakfast - Captured

Some of the best things of the morning... cup of tea and my macbook.

(Don't be jealous. I earned it.)

It doesn't get more real than this... breakfast is an affair all on it's own, complete with dino guests at the table, action shots, and sound effects.

And there's Chloe, queen of the house of Wack. Yes, she's meowing at me. Why? Because it's what she does. She meows at people. I think she particularly enjoys meowing at Evan because it freaks him right out. They're terrified of each other, and yet drawn to each other: the classic love-hate take-swipes-at-each-other-when-WackyMummy's-not-looking relationship.

In real life, there's the occasional bribery for eating certain meals. That is to say, I refuse to give him candies or treats until after breakfast.... which makes me a "mean, horrible mom". It's what I do best.

Enjoying the fruits of his labor (a treat--this time ice cream--for eating a nutritional breakfast).

He loves the sprinkles on his ice cream... he calls it "flavoring".

(Couldn't you just gobble him up?)

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Vacationland Part 3: Dino Museum (Part 2)

Well, I promised a few more pictures from the dino museum, so here they are. Frankly, I am dino'd out, so these will be the last. For a while. I promise.

The mighty Triceratops, skillfully ignoring the T-Rex standing behind him. Okay, they're all dead. No one is attacking anyone, right?

Except for these guys. Those museum people are sure ghastly... um, I mean, artistic. Not only did they illustrate the scene depicted with paintings on the wall, but they arranged the fossils to an attack scene. Thanks, museum guys.

Here's a more peaceful fossil scene: still trapped inside the rocks. So he can't get out. Just how we like them.

My excuse is... he can't read yet. Yes, he's sitting right beside the sign that says "Thank you for staying out of the exhibits" and he's fondling the fossils. That's my boy.

No more fossil pictures, I promise.

Vacationland Part 2: Dino Museum (Probably Part 1, Too)

The family and I visited the Royal Tyrrell Museum in Drumheller, Alberta (otherwise known to us as Dino Town). It's actually quite nice, and educational (yay!), and I could have completely nerded out and spent a lot of time really getting into the exhibits. That is, if I wasn't already doing herding duty with my own Preschoolersaurus Rex.

At the museum, special security guards were posted to prevent guests from bringing in the dreaded "outside food and drink". Because you can never be too careful.

"No, Evan, the dinosaurs are statues, not chew toys." It's not THAT kind of interactive museum experience. Remember, they're watching you!

See, they're watching you. And they have big teeth!

THIS is the the interactive part.

And this: sitting on a real tree from 250 million years ago. (Wow. Dying from excitement here. Can you tell?)

And finally: real bones! An Albertosaurus from Alberta. (Hmmmm.....)

Whew! That's enough for now. Come back tomorrow for a few more pictures. We'll see what else they had there!

Vacationland Part 1: Dino Town

There is a town in Alberta that still belongs to the dinosaurs.

They own it.

They live it.

They hang out on street corners waiting for the lights to change,

because although they still dominate humans for sheer size,

they also believe in following rules.

So they wait. And wait.

But then they get hungry. (Must be all that waiting.)

And so they wait for a tasty morsel to come by.

And they pounce. Sort of.

It is, after all, a tender morsel of a boy.

But an anonymous long-neck leaf-eater is watching.

And warning the tender young morsel to aim high in life:

"You can do better than become his next meal."

And the tender morsel listens.

Because he learned to do that at his mother's knee.

Reluctantly, he learned.

A wise but greedy Triceratops suckers a treat from the tender little almost-morsel.

The rescued boy gladly shares his gum.

The mother puts her foot down and won't allow the little morsel-boy to chew the piece of gum that the Triceratops already chewed. It's just not civilized.

Then young boy, sympathetic to the dinosaurs' needs, agrees to pose

with the T-Rex in an effort to draw other tender young morsels to their doom.

He's nice like that.

In gratitude, another T-Rex gives a ride to the boy

and his long-suffering infinitely-patient mother.

A close-up: There is no mayhem.

No roaring.

No lunging and gashing.

No blood or screaming.

He has already lost interest.

Or is completely overwhelmed by the experience.

It's hard to tell... both expressions are similar.

He gives in to the docile nature of the young Triceratops.

They share a moment.

And then they move on.

As a Camarasaurus walks away into the sunset,

he accidentally steps on the boy,

who at the end of the day,

ended up a quivering mass emitting high-pitched squeaks.

And the boy squeaked all the way home.

The End.

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Brought to you by Candid Carrie and her phabulous Friday Finish Foto Fiesta!

Things I Learned While On Vacation

My son likes some kind of Vanilla Bean Latte cookies dipped in orange juice. He devoured them on the flight. Both there and on the way back. And then asked for more.

It's still possible to go a couple of days without sleep. I'm not saying I want to do it often... or ever again. Just that I can survive. It's not pretty, though.

After 2 days without sleep and thinking I lost our passports, it's possible to become extremely paranoid and start hallucinating. (Still worried about identity theft happening again.)

A good night's sleep can fix most anything.

There is a LOT more to learn about dinosaurs than I ever imagined! (Sigh.)

Hands down, people -- especially strangers -- are much more friendly in the west. That being said, our plane from Calgary to Halifax was full of friendly, cheerful elderly people. Some that looked like they were in their 70's and 80's... ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the cuteness of the few toddlers and babies on board. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to really appreciate it as I was seriously lacking sleep. (I don't know if those friendly people were going home to Nova Scotia or just visiting. But I can tell you one very grumpy person was going "home". Me.)

You can get a sunburn in Northern Alberta in September. Ouch.

My son outgrew his footwear while we were gone. He spent a lot of the summer in sandals and sometimes barefoot. And I just wasn't paying that much attention. Suddenly, in cooler weather, I'm trying to force his foot into his size 9 and 1/2 shoes, only to find out that he's just barely a 10 and 1/2 and might soon be in 11's. How the heck did that happen? Was I really that busy? So: more shoe shopping for the boy.

Jackrabbits like living in the city. Maybe there are fewer coyotes? And they enjoy showing up in my apocalyptic dreams. Just sayin'.

Jackrabbits of the Apocalypse

I'm ba-ack! And surprisingly really glad to be back. (And glad to be back at my little spot in which I make sense of my world. But that's just stating the obvious.)

Side note: I'm having trouble writing this today, literally, because my cat, who apparently missed me while we were gone, is rubbing herself all over me and the computer, and I keep having to retype. Her typing skills are not what they should be.

I've been gone for almost 2 weeks, and my "vacation" was not really a vacation, of which some of the reasons I won't go into here. I will talk about some aspects which are on my mind and are totally making me BENT right now. Yes, vacations are relaxing. I advise you all to go on one soon. Really.

This vacation was really a trip to take my son to visit his father where he works. I wanted to be nice, and not put ALL the travel stress on him, and not make him miss so much work. But I'm not patting myself on the back here for being "nice". I just did what I thought was the right thing to do. But this isn't about that.

The trip was also a chance for me to reconnect with my family. So, in a sense, it was a family "vacation". And I stress again, please go on vacations. It's good for you.

So I saw my family again--my sister and her husband, my brother and his new girlfriend, and my mother. And as much as I love my family, I had a painful reminder of why I tend to move/live/travel so far away from them. Example:


So, I'm glad to be home. For comparison purposes:

Note: the picture is metaphorical only. So minus the palms, camels and sand dunes. Remember, it's a metaphor. (I'm still hankering for a more literal interpretation of this picture to manifest itself in my life. Seriously waiting. And I'm waiting. And waiting. But anyways.)

Every family has it's own brand of crazy. I have a different crazy in my family of origin than I see with the in-laws. Each takes it's own time and adjustment to learning to deal with and live with. Now I'm starting to think that the word "normal" doesn't have a place in the world. Or shouldn't. There is no "normal". There's just other brands of crazy, which look like "normal" from a distance. Grass is greener, etc.

My complaint: I don't feel like I'm a real part of my family. And our family is not that close. We all live far apart, don't stay in touch regularly, and on many levels don't really know each other all that well. That being said, I feel very much NOT a part of my family unit, such as it is. I think I've carried this since I was 15 when my mother sent me away to boarding school (and wouldn't let me come home when I didn't like it), and then heard from both my brother and sister that the family was better off without me. I think I've spent a lot of years trying to put that behind me, but it's hard when no-one wants to talk about stuff. It's also hard to try to be a part of things when a certain family member spent my childhood tearing me down so that she could feel more like a part of things. It's hard to WANT to make any effort towards another family member who was (and might still continue to be) very abusive and now reclusive, and has special needs. I just don't WANT to cater to those needs when it's not going to really make a difference in the larger scheme of things. (Can we say issues here?)

(Another side note: I'm frankly amazed I haven't become a druggie/stripper/prostitute/hired assassin/lawyer with all my family history and issues. I'm really having trouble figuring out what to write as I give an overview of my trip... I need to get stuff off my chest.)

So through the family tension that resulted, I was busy and constantly on the run. I met new people, played a little friendly poker, lost a lot of sleep, spent time with old friends and laughed a lot (thank you, guys), and watched my son alternately cling to me and have a blast with the friends and family. I got to relax a little, read a little, chat a lot, complain some, and even help a teen with her homework (which was like one of the highlights of my trip because a) I'm a nerd like that, and b) that kid just rocks).

We watched the kids chase and catch a LOT of grasshoppers, chase each other, have ongoing water fights, and just have a lot of fun. We did a LOT of driving and got to discover even more about dinosaurs and see fossils in person. We discovered the kiddie part of the waterpark was too dangerous for us, so we ended up mostly in the wave pool (deep end) and riding the big people waterslides. Which my boy did a lot of by himself. Because he rocks.

We saw a bear, coyote, many hawks and eagles, and tons of magpies. While in the Calgary suburbs, we saw jackrabbits. I think it's distinctly odd that I've seen more jackrabbits there than anywhere else. And I've been around. Also, while sleeping at my sister's house, I dreamt every single night of the apocalypse. I kid you not. And the jackrabbits started showing up in those same dreams too.

And then I got to crash late last night in my own bed. And sleep and sleep and sleep. I'm so-o-o-o-o glad to be home.

I'm realizing my "family" is my son. My home is wherever he is. Where he feels he has a place. Where he's comfortable. And right now, whether I like it or not (or how much I think this province sucks), it's here. And you know what? I'm okay with that.

What Really Happened To the Dinosaurs

Due to my recent intensive studying of all things dino (because The Boy eats, breathes, and lives dinosaurs), I'm familiar with most of the theories of why the dinosaurs became extinct. Some scientists believe that there was a mass extinction event, like a very VERY large meteor striking the earth, causing the equivalent of a nuclear winter, triggering an ice age and blotting out the lives of most cold-blooded creatures. Other scientists think it might have been just an ordinary ice age that did it. Still other scientists believe that dinosaurs evolved into birds.



They are all wrong.



The Boy and I know what really happened:



They got lost.



That's it. That's all that happened to the dinosaurs. They got lost. They are out there still. I know this because I keep finding them. They're everywhere. Witness:

Happy Birthday, Evan!

Today is the day. My boy turns 3. While it's a happy and exciting occasion for us (considering the theoretical developmental leaps and bounds that are to occur today, according to the child-raising books I've read), he's rather blase about it. I mean, he had his party on Sunday--the main reason I haven't been seen around here all week, recovering from the chaos. Seriously though, it wasn't bad. Seven guests, aged 3 to 7 (not including the parents), were very very well behaved. All I can say was, they played well, my son did not cause any bodily damage to anyone, and they followed directions. Also surprisingly, my son did not lose control unwrapping gifts. He would have been happy after the first gift to just sit back and examine it at leisure and have fun with it. We had to keep reminding him and bringing him back to open the other gifts. The adults and guests, I think, had more fun with the opening of gifts than he. However, that's not to say he doesn't enjoy them! He's loved every one of them, and has played with them all. Some of them even have kept him occupied for whole minutes at a time! Yay! Due to this unexpected windfall of presents, he has effectively doubled his dinosaur collection. The guests gift bags also had dino themes, and the cake.... well, the cake can speak for itself. It went off well enough... better than I ever expected... the guests were happy... cleanup was a breeze... and to top it all off, I got the house cleaned when I got home. (Must have been all that sugar from the party giving me a little boost.) No wonder I haven't been able to move since!

Check out how well the children are just sitting there decorating their treat... no fighting, poking each other, getting into anyone else's brownie "craft".... I've never seen anything like it. How lucky did we get!!!

Works of art!!!

Yay for more dinos.

Happy birthday, my little man. Happy birthday.