Am I Cheap?

I am not sure I have what it takes to be a real blogger as one has to actually take the time to sit and type something out. This last week I have been spending a wee bit of time (if I say lots Ian's forehead will wrinkle and he will tell me to quit exxagerating because its like lying - I beg to differ, I like to call it being creative, making the mundane interesting ...... anyhow ...... I am off topic)oh yes, I have been spending time with Ian looking at hardwood flooring because after 10 years of being in our present house the whole main floor is finally getting replaced with Chocolate Ash flooring.

When we bought our house, one of the first things we both said when we looked at the house was that the flooring definitely had to go - ewwww, ick, ugleeeee. But as time ticked on, we found other things to spend our money on, then even the thought of moving all our stuff made the task seem ever so daunting BUT thanks to Harper's renovation rebate for our income taxes (which expires today so you Westerners can still make it to Home Depot if you hurry) our sense of cheap caused us to take the plunge. That and the fact we will be gone for 3 weeks in March so the floor guy can floor to his hearts content without us bothering him.

And this week we had to replace our very LOUD dishwasher which also came with the house. It was awful 10 years ago but it was a Maytag and those commercials are right. Maytags last forever and ever and ever. When we ran the dishwasher it sounded as though a freight train was in our house. So because well we are cheap, Ian decides he will install the new one himself. Let's just say it did not go well. So the plumber came and installed it and you would think the story would end well at this point BUT nope he informs us our brand new dishwasher has a leak. What?? So we call the store who called the manufacturer who calls the plumber who is coming tomorrow to inspect our leak. We have been washing our dishes the old fashioned way.

I also have begun to notice that all our towels, bedding (most of the stuff we got for wedding presents) are beginning to fall apart. I tend to use everything until it gets a hole in it or breaks. Even my clothes. Which brings me into another topic ......... my friends want to nominate me for the TV Show "What Not To Wear". Now I could be offended but they are so totally right on. I do not dress for fashion but rather choose comfort. Yoga pants are the bomb because they are expandable. In fact, the more they bug me the more awful I aim to dress. Also, have you noticed the price of clothing these days? What a racket! If we all boycotted clothing stores for a few months we could force the prices to come down.

I think you would all agree that I am cheap. You can call me Mrs. Cheap and I am OK with that.

Over and Out. Post Number 5 (I think)complete.

There is more of them.

Today, for a few short moments, I went to watch my son play in a Volleyball Tournament and discovered 4 gyms full of young teen boys who look and smell the same as him. I was in awe and realized that perhaps I need to start a support group for parents who have young teen sons. I could charge money to attend my support group and become rich.

I am not sure when things changed but all of a sudden my cute cuddly boy started to gross me out. I think God allows this to happen in such a natural way between Mom's and their boys. So gradual that one day all of a sudden your boy is in the process of becoming a young man. He looks you in the eye or you look up at him and deep down you know it is time to let him go. And it seems right. And your proud. And you wonder if you can ever get him fit enough to get a wife.

I rant endlessly at the boy , "You need a haircut ....... Quit eating all the cereal ...... Pick up your socks ...... Put your dishes away .....If you leave the milk out more time I am going to dump it on your head ....... Have a shower, you stink ..... Oh and make sure you use your deodarant .....I'm not paying that much money for a pair of shoes when your feet are still growing ...... Shoving things in the closet and under your bed is not cleaning your room ...... What do you mean a kids meal is not enough anymore, you can't eat 2 burgers, there is just no way .......... No, I don't think noises coming out of your body are funny.... Your sports equipment needs to find another home besides my hallway ....... Turn off the lights .... Clean out your lunchpail .........Pick up your wet towels ...... and finally Do not bug your sister!

Someday when he flies the coop I will long for the days of having a young teen son who charms me with his slightly crooked smile and says "You are the best! I love you Mom." I will forget about the messes and the lack of a frontal lobe. I will look back with rose colored glasses and remember how quickly those years passed.

So the next time I go to rant and I expect it will be soon as I just spotted another pair of socks by the garage door as I am typing. Now how hard it is to put your socks in the laundry basket? Really, Mark (yep he has now ticked me off so his identity is no longer protected) Oh yes, like I was saying, I will rant with a smile!

I am not 20 anymore!

My daughter (whose identity I am protecting until she ticks me off) says she keeps checking my blog for my latest installment. A true blogger needs to post more than once a week she says. Who am I to disappoint the dear? I am on a quest to be a true blogger.

It is Friday. Friday night to be exact. When I was much younger (in my 20's) Friday nights were a time for fun and visiting with friends and staying up really late to play rook and eat pizza. I could drink coke and still be able to sleep like a rock. Friday night is now a time when I breathe a big sigh of relief that the work week is done and I go to bed early so I can get up early to go grocery shopping. When I get home from getting my groceries and doing my numerous other errands that old people do on Saturdays my teens are often still sound asleep and I find myself thinking "My, you are wasting your whole day away!" When did we turn into our parents? When did this happen?

I still feel like I am 20 inside. I don't look 20 though. The hair is turning grey and my eyes are a little wrinkly when I smile. Things are flabbier.

I am not ready for my kids to date, have opinions different from mine, be taller than me, know more than me .......

I am not ready for them to experience disappointments, broken hearts and confusion ........

I am not ready to send them into a world where God is not important .........

I once thought only old people drink coffee and now I drink coffee ......

I used to be able to eat whatever I wanted and I stayed skinny, now I just look at a donut and it plasters itself to my butt ......

I look silly when I try on clothes from the stores my daughter shops in ......

I feel old when my kids ask me to tell them about the olden days ....... when there was no e-mail, cell phones, computers, microwaves .........a world without texting, facebook, twittering and blogs ....... when you listened to big CD's, only rich people owned a color television and when you rented a movie you had to go the video store and bring home a big silver suitcase .....

Lately I have decided that I am going to enjoy this time of my life. I am going to love being in my forties. This is going to my decade. And when Ian (remember I am no longer protecting his identity because he ticked me off) turns 50 in 2 and a half years I will remind hin about the good old days when he was in his forties.

Over and out. Post number 3 complete.

I have the Blues .......

I am not sure how often one is supposed to blog. My life probably doesn't warrant a daily update. I have a pretty regular life for the most part ..... now Ian keeps making excess noise as he is trying to invade my creative space and therefore sabotage my blog writing experience. Does he not realize one needs complete silence to create? I need to be alone with my words. Why is it that men talk when you don't want them to and don't talk when you want to them to? And then my son is watching Chuck (this really cool spy show that I find quite funny but since I discovered Rogers on Demand I watch later so I can fast forward commercials) and my daughter is listening to this music called Skillet. I don't get it,why would the group essentially call itself frying pan? Noise, noise everywhere!

I am not depressed as my post would imply, rather I feel the need to vent about my treks to Blue Mountain. I went last night, for the second time this season. For you Westerners, Blue Mountain is this large hill like escarpment that Ontario people ski on. It is like a mini Whistler about 40 minutes from my house. Very cute and I rather enjoy 'walking' around it to look in the shops and drink expensive coffee or go to the very trendy Scandinavian Spa (my experiences there shall be a post for another day). BUT I happen to be married to a man and have given birth to 2 children who love skiing and snowboarding. My dear sweet hubby was so kind that he bought me skiing equipment last year. I took it is a sign that he would like me to join the family in this winter outing. He doesn't want me to feel left out. Perhaps he is trying to kill me with kindness!

Many of you know that I am a pastor and I know pastors are not supposed to swear. But skiing makes me want to swear. They do not understand that my bones are very important to me and I do not wish to break them. I do not need their advice on how to improve. I see the mocking in their eyes although they deny it profusely, they are helping me they say. As we near the hill I feel nastiness overcome my rather rational being and my eyes quiet the comments I know are dying to escape out of their lips.

I look like a big giant black marshamallow once I get all my gear on. I can't even do my own boots up. And once they are on I walk like an idiot. It does not seem logical to me. If God intended us to put long skinny things on our feet He would have just made our feet longer. Then I proceed to get on the lift with my friend who also is not so keen on breaking her bones. The best part was riding on the lift because it was such a beautiful evening. Why couldn't we just go round and round on the lift having a nice visit?

Twice last night I saw 2 people on the hill called Big Baby getting rescued from their injuries. I saw many people wipe out. Tell me again why we do this? Then when I wake up the next morning I have to take ibuprofen so I can move.

We do many things for our families and for me skiing is one of them. So now that I have vented I will proceed to enjoy the rest of the season skiing at the mountain .....

Over and out. 2nd post completed.

First Post

This is so very exciting. I am joining the world of bloggers on January 16, 2010. I have always wanted to do this but kinda thought it was sort of dumb. Like who reads these things besides your family and your friends who feel sorry for you. But then I discovered Facebook and realized how fun it is to post my musings. I amuse myself more than you can ever imagine and so this blog is essentially my attempt at amusing myself. You can only write so much on Facebook and then it cuts you off and I find that quite annoying.

Perhaps my blog is a tad self absorbed and I will acknowledge that fact. Regardless, I still think I shall write about my life as a forty something. I think some of you will find it a good thing because it will save me from having to verbally assault you with my vast array of senseless drivel. Instead I shall assault these pages and then send them into cyberspace and maybe just maybe I will become more mature as I no longer will feel the need to always say the first thing that pops into my head.

I apologize now if you become the unintended victim of my musings. I will change names to protect the innocent.

Since only people who know me will read this there is no need to introduce myself.

This blog is my art and therefore may not be to the taste of everyone. So be forewarned as you step into the mind of a somewhat quirky middle aged woman!

My family has just arrived home and I told them I was writing a blog and my husband(whose name is Ian - I decided not to protect his identity due to his unkind remarks and rolling of the eyeballs). Shall I quote his response "Who is going to read that? I'll only be interested in it if it makes us money." I am offended. There is no price on art. On a positive note, my son agreed to be my first follower. I like him. He has good taste and always laughs at my jokes.

Over and out. First post complete.