I took this photo with my blackberry last night, OHHH, around 12am when I finally got to bed. He’s in my bed. He’s FULLY not sleeping. He’s pretending.

The Rascal has mercilessly taken up my entire pillow AND side of the bed for the past couple of weeks, and, as you can see, I finally put my foot down. At 12am last night, when I lifted his red-faced, whimpering little self out of his crib, I told him he was NOT allowed to sleep with me UNLESS he moved his heavy little head to the VERY end of my pillow.

So, there he is. He understands everything. His head is at the VERY end of my pillow — between our two pillows — and he’s FACE DOWN. I obviously didn’t want him sleeping face down. But, he insisted. He was ACTUALLY going to obey the rules. And, lo and behold, I slept last night, I SLEPT LAST NIGHT, with the cheaty little guy beside me. Only his heavy little head ended up on my back and then by my feet. We are getting this co-sleeping thing down to a science. As my boyfriend Tim Gunn would say, we are MAKING IT WORK. Even though we are so not the co-sleeping type. At all.

I secretly love it, though. The morning cuddles, ESPECIALLY, are irresistible. Oy!

Oh, hey! I’m over at Canada Moms Blog. Come see how long it’s been since I last went to YOGA, and WHY.

Oh, to sleep a hundred years (and to wake up just as beautiful,
no morning breath, no stiff neck…).

I went to the ballet on Thursday with my mom, it’sgrandma. I was so wound up all day with a bunch of crazy, exciting and last-minute (as usual for me) stuff to do for work that I couldn’t IMAGINE sitting in silence, sans Macbook and sans blackberry for three hours at the ballet.

But, the babysitter arrived, as planned, at 6:30, and off it’sgrandma and I went. Me, in my lululemon yoga pants, of course, and it’sgrandma in her typical blazer and dress pants. One day I’ll dress as sophisticated as it’sgrandma (only never as tailored because I’m convinced I’m incapable). One day, I’ll remember to brush my hair and throw on lip gloss before leaving the house. I was pretty-much a frizzy-haired mess, but that didn’t stop it’sgrandma from introducing me proudly to any old friend we bumped into. Me, clasping my long black sweater to cover my too-tight tee….

I sat in my seat, looked toward the deep red curtain, and I felt my mind racing. I felt my breath halted. And I became aware of a slight buzzzzing all over my body.

How am I going to sit here for 3 hours, through two intermissions? I fretted.

The curtain opened, the music began. And, ahhhhh, le Tchaikovsky. I sat back. Breath came. Shoulders and neck softened. And my brain waves! I could literally feel my brainwaves slow down to smooth ripples. (I even tweeted it….)

The music, the setting, the stunning (as always) National Ballet of Canada dancing were like this delicious concoction. I drank it all up. And all my stress, anxiety, and tension flew out the stage door.

And so here we are again. I’ve been WOUND UP so tight for so long it seems I’ve hardly been breathing. I haven’t been going to yoga because — the same reason I didn’t go to the ballet — I’m actually AFRAID of unwinding.

AND I BLAME IT ALL ON…THIS:

I loathe this drink more than Hootie and the Blowfish, my cats’ wet food and Home Depot all put together. It is the BANE of my existence, the SOURCE of my anxiety issues, and the REASON I don’t eat anything else until 4:30pm every day, the REASON I held my long black sweater so tight across my too-tight tee at the ballet.

I don’t know about any other astrological sign, but VIRGOS like me should not drink chai lattes, or any Starbucks products for that matter. It magnifies all our flaws A TRILLION FOLD.

Watching the ballet not only soothed me because it was so beautiful, but also because it brought me back to a time when I could move like that (to a degree). I was a dancer. I had great energy like that. I could fly and spin and lean all the way back — touching my head to my heal WHILE lifting my leg into a standing splits. These days, I’m just excited to sit on my couch and exercise my fingertips, on my keyboard.

Not good.

So, yet again, we’re making a change. No more chais. EVER. That’s the first goal. That, and more kale, even though….

…and more exercise — more TURBO JAM!

You wouldn’t believe how hard it is for me to quit these chais. It’s been two days of HELL so far. I’m tired and irritable and angry and craving a hundred years of sleep. Just ask it’sgrandma, who attempted to have a phone conversation with me yesterday. Life seems hopelessly BLEAK without this stupid drink. But I’ve been in this place before, every time I quit. Another day or two and I’ll be feeling good as new. Which goes to show that stuff is CRACK.

CRACK.

We’re going to try this for 30 days and see what changes come…. Of course, I’ll keep you posted.

Love!

xo Haley-O

But, I did get that beautiful smile of hers, plastered in my mind.

Anissa suffered a stroke yesterday. Her family and the entire internet world have been praying for her and her family.

I will be praying. I will be donating.

The one thing that stands out for me about Anissa is that she SOUNDS exactly the same as she tweets and blogs. She is THE REAL THING. She’s been through enough already. She didn’t need this; her family doesn’t need this. And I’m praying hard. And my heart is pretty sunk right now.

Click here for information on how you can help Anissa and her family, now with updated P.O. Box information.

Click here for updates on how she’s doing.

Click here to go to Anissa’s Caring Bridge page.

I mean, aside from the director’s, what’shisname.  I have a right to know who’s messing with my already anxious mind. There’s no way in HELL I’m seeing this movie. Even though friends of mine WHO JUST HAD A BABY went to see this catastrophic movie and said it was a freaking joke and that, if you’re afraid of 2012, then this is the movie to see because it’s a freaking joke. A bunch of models and action figures and a bunch of capitalizing on what’s already a subject of GLOBAL HYSTERIA.

There’s also the big Swine Flu vaccine. And people not vaccinating their kids calling people who DID vaccinate their kids stupid because the vaccine is, i.e., “too shady for me.” And then there’s people who vaccinated their kids calling people who DIDN’T vaccinate their kids stupid because, well, you know, blah blah. We’ve all heard it. And then THIS comes out and capitalizes on what’s already a subject of GLOBAL HYSTERIA.

…A bunch of horrible creepy aliens disguised as gorgeous humans (of course, because all humans are gorgeous) wanting to take over our health care — “universal healthcare,” hmmmm…. LIKE we needed this right now, in the middle of flu vaccine hysteria. Like I freaking needed to see that episode. And isn’t Elisabeth Mitchell in, like, enough creepy shows already?

Hasn’t she already freaked us out enough in LOST….

The posters for 2012 are plastered on our Toronto buses. They’re on billboards and every other commercial. WHO NEEDS THIS? I ask you, WHO NEEDS THIS?

And then you turn on the news, NAY, you turn on a freaking KIDS’ show, and there it is again — that 2012 commercial, and the news HEADLINES of the day, which are always godawful because they have to HOOK YOU IN. And JUST when you sit down to a meal of pasta with mushrooms, they are SO going to tell you that pasta and mushrooms will KILL you because…stay tuned for the news at 7 and you’ll find out. GRAAARGH!

I’m just a wee blogger. A wee PERSON at barely 5′1″. But something’s gotta change. The media, entertainment, and the commercial peeps — desperate for us to WATCH them, even as we PVR everything — have to stop spreading the fear. Whatever happened to SPREADING the LOVE!? You know how many people are TERRIFIED of all this sh*t? And there it is, IN YO FACE. If it’s not V, then it’s Fringe, or The Law Abiding Citizen. Freaking The Law Abiding Citizen — my poor mother will never answer her front door again. Why can’t Gerard Butler make more movies like THIS, instead:

WHICH, I loved. LOVE LOVE LOVE. The chemistry between those two, OMG — which is shocking, since we’re talking about Katherine Heigl. Speaking of which, I also loved this one….

WHICH doesn’t say much about my taste in movies lately. But, seriously, anything to get away from all the mind-blowing scary stuff.

Just the other day, I’ll have you know, the Monkey saw THIS poster on some storefront window….

And she actually yelled, “MAMA, LOOK! ORPHANS”! This from a girl who’s TV watching is limited to Tree House and the odd PVR’d So You Think You Can Dance Canada — with vehemently fast-forwarded commercials.

I’ll also have you know….

Yesterday I walked through downtown Toronto with my family.

The annual Christmas parade had just ended.

There was GARBAGE everywhere.

All of it was from fast food.

On our way home, we passed a protest with violent images that I didn’t need to see just then, on my Sunday afternoon walk with my young family.

Violent images are everywhere. They’re f*ing with my mind and I HOPE NOT my children’s minds.

All I ask is that Gerard Butler make some more funny movies, that Elizabeth Mitchell do a sitcom FOR ONCE, and that horror films stay where they USED to be — on the FAR corner in the back of the video store, and not mixed among the fluffy mainstream ones. Sensitive minds like mine CANNOT take all this SCARY stuff. CANNOT.

Spread the LOVE! I ASK THEE! PEACE! Unicorns…? Fairy dust and mermaids? SPARKLES…. Gerard? HEART. CLIVE OWEN. Will Ferrell. Please. More comedy, love, yooooga, less fear. LESS FEAR.

xo Haley-O

Maybe it was the exhilaration of it all — the exhilaration I felt when I flipped the final 483rd page of the book exactly one hour before I had to drive 45 minutes to Denguy’s house for the monthly meeting last night. Maybe it was the 483ish times the author used the c-word (or not, since I don’t think I’ve uttered the word in my entire life). Maybe it was the sexy-hot Hector, the icy cool Aisha, the sweet sympathetic Richie. Maybe it was that tiny detail, when teen-aged Connie gave her friend the stink eye for throwing a cigarette butt in the bushes: “It would end up in the sea. [Connie] got up from the bench, picked up the butt and put it in the side pocket of her backpack.”

Or maybe I’m just a dark and twisted horndog.

But the book won the 2009 Commonwealth Writers’ Prize for Best Book. Are the Australian literati, then, also dark and twisted horndogs?

I don’t know. Why don’t you read it, and let me know what you think. THEY hated it. I loved it.

And yet I wonder if I would love ANY book right now. Because reading is such a LUXURY for me these days.

So, I suppose if there’s any time to read the new Tori Spelling book, NOW would be the time?

Yes, I’m so grateful just to be READING again — to relax and escape for a while, even into Tsiolkas’ dark and twisted world of horndogs, a world totally removed from my own. Maybe that’s why I loved it.

It was a good escape. And a good accomplishment. 483 pages. Unlike changing diapers and waking up in the middle of the night to get the monkey WATER, I didn’t HAVE to read it. But I did. And it felt GOOD.

On to our next book club book, The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher — chosen by Ms. Mamalooper, who has returned to blogging after, ohhh, 6 months’ hiatus. But, FIRST, a book of my own choosing (for, yes, my goal is to read TWO books this month). It’s a book by one of my favourite authors, highly recommended by my mother….

I can assure you there won’t be a single c-word in this one, and I will still love it.

And I can’t wait to get lost in it. Tonight. I hope. After I put the kids to bed, and wash the dishes, and write tomorrow’s bTrendie email alert, and write three articles, and answer 483 emails.

…but for 2-year-old humans. For the most part, though, I’m understanding him — and I’m LOVING the way he bravely conquers each word.

Like “Pickadoe.”

“Pickadoe,” we’ve discovered, is Rascal’s word for “PEEK-A-BOO.” It took me a while to figure this one out, in particular, because he tends to say it without the traditional hand gesture….

PICKADOE!

In addition to our entertaining advancements in language, we are very, VERY affectionate, especially with our MAMA. This kid will not go to bed without, I KID YOU NOT, 20 kisses between the crib bars. For about five or so minutes after I put him in his crib, I have to crouch down to his level, stick my face between the crib bars, and repeatedly meet THIS usually wet, sometimes-snotty, always-adorable pucker:

These are but two of the many awesome Rascalisms I am CHERISHING and want to remember always — he’s growing so freaking fast!

I also want to remember these crazy elaborate beds The Monkey’s been making for her new doll “Marshmallow”….

Yes, she’s given Marshmallow ALL her toys to sleep with. That’s one lucky doll…. (And one unlucky MAMA will eventually be cleaning all this up.)

In related news, Minden’s breath is as bad as ever. Here:

Whew! Oh, what’s that? You missed it? Here:

Oh, EXCUUUUSE ME! Apparently, Minden’s not amused….

PICKADOE!

xo Haley-O

As with ALL Starbucks products, it was stupid pricey, but so awesome, and I was determined to keep the kids busy so I could maybe finish reading the 300 pages I have left of my monthly book club book in time for our meeting Wednesday — my ONE PERSONAL GOAL IN LIFE at this very busy time being that I read the book-club book in time for the meeting…, for Wednesday. GAH! Why did DENGUY have to pick the longest book EVER for this month’s read? Good thing the book is AH-MAY-ZING.

As I was saying, the Monkey’s new colouring book is awesome — especially for a kid who really is a natural artist. I mean, ALL kids are natural artists, but she’s a little more artsy, more “artistically mature” than others. She’s not one to kick a ball or master the monkey bars (despite her internet name), but the girl can DRAW.

That said, I was a little surprised at how she tackled the book’s prompt to “make a strawberry cake”:

She coloured the whole thing black, as you can see. And added, erm, a strawberry.

Closeup on the strawberry….

I have no words for this strawberry. Well, I do. Have words. But, they don’t need to be said. Do they.

She fared a little better with the, erm, cherry pie….

I love all the delicate details — her trademark. They always make me go “hmmm…,” and “wow”….

I never finished the 300 pages of my book. I was too busy laughing at strawberries. But, we all had a great time together, and there are two more days ’til Wednesday.

I’m a bit of an anxious basket case lately. I kind of always am when fall turns to winter, and the smells of the shifting seasons — damp leaves, home cooking, smoke from neighborhood fireplaces — emerge full force, subtly bringing me back to the dark, prenatal depressions of my pregnancies. And it’s togetherness that’s getting me by. Nightly “CUDDAH”s (cuddles) with the Rascal, reading fairy books in a fairy nook with the Monkey, playing a family game of Hungry Hippos on a Sunday afternoon….

Monkey’s favourite doll played the yellow hippo while I captured the moment…. For some unknown reason, she’s named the doll “Marshmallow”…

Again, no words.

The monkey loves making beds for “Marshmallow,” and she carries “Marshmallow” EVERYWHERE with her….

I love it. It’s adorable.

I LOVE my hilariously talented, quirky little Monkey.

Seriously, no words.