To Whom it May Concern:

Dear Baileys,

God bless you, inventors of bliss-in-a-glass. Thank you for tiny, perfect, quiet moments at the end of those days which are neither perfect nor quiet.

Sincerely,
Belly


Dear Bell Canada,

There are only 337 days left until my contract with you expires. To say that I am delighted about this would be an understatement.  Hallefreakin'luhiah!

Sincerely,
Elizabeth


Dear Murphy's Oil,

This morning, my son coloured on my oak desk with marker. This afternoon, he coloured on the hardwood floor with a different coloured  marker. About an hour ago, he took two markers to the coffee table.

Your product not only removed every spot, my house smells amazing. God bless you.

Sincerely,
Elizabeth


Dear Crayola,

Washable? I beg to effing differ.

Signed,
E.M.


Dear Sons,

This week is NOT a no-yell one. That was LAST week. Just because last week's no-yell efforts were dismal failures, that does NOT automatically mean that the following week will be about making up.

This week is about getting through.

Despite the yelling, colouring, hitting, shoving, tattling, throwing, jumping, whining and inability to get through a bath without splashing water, I love you both with all that I am.

Remember that. Forget the rest.

Love,
Mummy


Dear God,

Thank you for today and for my sons. Without them, I might never learn the things I should: patience, consistency, letting go. Hope to pop by this Sunday.

Love,
Me

P.S. Please bless the Baileys and the Murphys. They saved my floor and my sanity.


Dear Elizabeth,

You are a work in progress. Remember that. Forget the rest.

The best is yet to come.

Love,
Bellymonster

I Am So Smart...S-M-R-T...

Isabella: Liz, are dads smarter than mums?
Me: No. What makes you ask?
Isabella: Because Matthew just said that mums are smarter than dads.


(Big pause for me to turn my back and grin like a fool.)


Me: The truth is that mums and dads are both smart, just at different things.
Matthew: Mummy, you're smarter than Daddy, right? Except at parking. And starting the lawn mower.
Me: Um....yes. Something like that....





Genius Girl and Mr. Smartypants



From the Trenches...

Matthew: Let's play Scooby-Doo! I'll be Shaggy, because I'm hungry!

Isabella: I wanna be Daphne.

Luke: Freddy's not scared of anything. I want to be Freddy.

Matthew: Then you have to be in love with Isabella.

Luke: Why?

Isabella: Because Freddy's in love with Daphne.

Luke: No, Freddy's scared of Daphne.

Joining the Social Media Revolution...One Baby Step At a Time...

After worrying that what little time I SHOULD be spending doing other things (like raising the children, cleaning the toilet or having sex) will be spent online, I have joined Twitter.

I am a bit lost, a LOT confused but cannot curb the giddy sensation of having joined the party. If I were a preteen with a cool older sister who lent me her clothes and invited me to a high school party, this is how it would feel!

How long, I wonder, will it take for me to begin thinking in 140 characters instead of status updates?

Who They Might Become (or: Waiting for Spring...)

This is how life looks when the sun comes out to play on a winter's day in Canada:

 This is how it looks when I glimpse what and who they might become: