Category Archives: oh boys

Just Call Me Buzz McKillington

A few days ago Will and Charlie were outside doing some chores that included the use of our lawn tractor and the small trailer attachment. When they were finished they decided it would be fun to ride up and down the road each taking turns standing up to do a bit of surfing in the trailer. The object of this game was to see if the driver could dislodge the surfer. When I caught sight of this I had to holler at them to stop and then proceeded to give them each a lecture on why this was not a safe activity.

When I was finished screeching at them in a voice only the dogs could here Charlie piped up.

“Mom, why do you always have to play the roll of Buzz McKillinton?”.

Which them prompted me to ask them to write a Guest Post on why they think I am such a Buzz Kill. Here is their post, completely unedited*.

Our mother the buzz kill.
A short story by Will and Charlie.

 

Who wants to hear a story about a bridge? Well nobody but with mom its everyday occurrence, Just hearing her calling our names from upstairs means something that won’t be fun.
What we think will be fun, She thinks will be “Dangerous” Obviously it’s dangerous that’s why it’s fun! She won’t even let us ride bikes down stairs, our poor little brother will grow up in a cruel and un-fun house.
Here’s a list of how she kills our buzz.
1. Sheep in the pool (Apparently it would kill it and that’s “A bad thing”)

2. Everyday when she dumps Henry on us. (Apparently its a bonding experience)

3. Whenever she calls our names from upstairs. (We know its either two things. Work, Or Trouble)

4. How we cant have overly violent games. *Cough* Buzz kill *Cough* *Cough*
5. Shes expects things of us.
6. Expects to feed ourselves.

7. Expects us to not do something Half-assed

8. Work! She expects us to get off out lazy butts and pay attention to her.

9. She expects me. A 16 year old teenage boy to wake up before 12 in the afternoon. (Gasp!)

10. She expects a 14 year old XBOX junkie to not play for 7 hours a day or until his fingers are numb.

11. She expects us to NOT be dumb teenagers. (Who does she think she is?)

As you can plainly tell. Our Moms a real buzz kill, She expects us to do things and enjoy doing them, Her idea of fun is throwing us outside for the day and making us watch Henry. PLEASE! CALL CHILD SERVICES! We don’t know how much more buzz killing we can take. 

TM of Will, Charlie and Henry. :) Have a great day that’s not full of a buzz kill mother. Cause we sure wont.

 

And there you have it folks, all the reasons why I am Buzz McKillington. 

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 *It nearly killed me not to spellcheck and edit this post!

No Longer Waiting

Just two short years ago I was sitting in Kingston General Hospital, hooked up to an IV and waiting.

It seems my whole life I had been waiting. Hell, I married a soldier. Now that’s always about the waiting. Waiting for him to leave, waiting for him to come home, waiting for a posting message, waiting to sell a house, waiting to buy a house. Waiting for the wait to be over.

But on August 3, 2007 I sat waiting to meet someone. Someone I had been waiting for for a very long time. 10 years and the wait was almost over.

At 8pm the doctor broke my water and started the pitocin. And I waited.

At 8:30pm I begged Sgt to find the nurse and tell her I wanted the epidural. And I waited.

At 9pm the anestesiologist came into my room and told me I would soon feel less pain. And I waited.

At 9:15pm I felt less pain. And I waited.

At 10:45 the nurse came in to check on my progress. 10 cm. And I waited.

At 11:04pm I was no longer waiting.

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How fast these two years have gone by.

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Hodgepodge

Op CIO has, so far, been sucessful. I will admit the first night was hell. The second a bit better and by the third we had it worked out. Now if Henry wakes in the middle of the night gtting him back to sleep is as simple as me going into his room to find his pacifier, pop it back into his mouth, give him his lion to snuggle, and cover him back up in his blanket.

My time spent up and awake is less than 3 minutes. Huge thanks to Shannon for encouraging me to do it and assuring me I wasn’t going to damage Henry.

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The vet was out here yesterday to look at our #8 ewe. She has been rapidly losing weight and has scours. Our vet seems to think it is coccidiosis, a small parasite that affects the ruminant. #8 is on a short course of treatment and, if correct, we should see a marked improvement in about 5 days.

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I find myself laying awake at night as more information about the Air France disaster is released. Last week I read that an 11 year old boy was travelling alone back home to Britain. I was at work when I read this and it took everything I had not to sob out loud for that boy. I am sure he was terrified and have visions of him crying out for his mum. In my mind I picture him as one of my boys and it’s this that keeps me up at night.

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Will, the 16 year old, has been up to his usual misguided shenanigans. A few weeks ago there was a dance at the school and he had a couple of friends over for the night. The next day while I was at work they thought it would be a great idea to take out the van for a ride in the countryside. I found out about the adventure because Will had posted a video of the event online and bragged about it to his friends on MSN and even had the balls to say I wasn’t smart enough to know how to read chat logs and find the link.  He no longer thinks I’m a techno idiot and is doing hard labour. Living on a farm has its advantages when it comes to punishing a teen.

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Parenting Tip Of The Day

If you want to stop your teens from bickering with one another threaten to walk about the house in only your bra and knickers. Be fully prepared to follow through on that threat if the call your bluff.

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The countdown to Sgts return is on. Today marks 28 days until he is home again. 28 days until I can abandon the solo sex and get the clean sheets dirty with crazy, monkey lovin’.

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I’m not asleep … but that doesn’t mean I’m awake.

Every night I have sat down at the keyboard ready to put up a post. Several are saved as drafts right now and I am sure one day they will see the light of day however Henry is going through a bit of a sleep regression.

It started a few weeks ago when he had a terrible cold causing awful congestion. Because snotty noses and sleeping toddlers are not the best combination I spent the better part of a week getting up every two hours. Usually Sgt and I take turns with this sort of thing but when your tag team partner is over 10,000 kms away it makes that sort of thing pretty much impossible.

Last week while having a bath Henry slipped and bumped his chin off the side of the tub, biting his tongue in the process. After getting him calmed down and taking a better look I saw that it wasn’t just a little nip, he had taken a chunk out of the side of his little tongue. That night was hell for both of us with him up every 30 minutes because it hurt to have a pacifier* in his mouth. The only way he would get some sleep was in my arms cuddled up. Desperate to get some sleep I did something Sgt and I had not done before, I brought him into bed** with me.

That night we both got to sleep but the consequences of that night have come back to bite me in the ass. Henry is now getting up around 2am expecting to come into bed with me and becomes inconsolable if he is left on his own to get back to sleep. Most nights it takes a short cuddle in the rocking chair with me to get him settled and back in his own bed but there have been a couple of nights when I am so tired that I have tucked him in with me once again. I know I am the root of this vicious merry-go-round but when you are stumbling about your day because of sleep deprivation you will do whatever it takes to get some shuteye.

Last night was our worst night so far. I made a firm decision that there would be no more coming into my bed and Henry would fall back to sleep in his own bed without cuddling in with me in the rocking chair.

How did that work out for us you ask? Between 12:00 and 2:30 am I was either going into his room to lay him down, find his pacifier or listening to him shout “Mummy” while sobbing. Let me just say I am taking a personal day from work today.

I have tried The No Cry Sleep Solution, I have tried CIO. Now I am at a loss as to what to do next. Internets if you have experienced this and have any assvice please, please, PLEASE let me know.

My fuzzy brain is counting on you.

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*I know some people will not agree that a 22 month old should have a paci but it works for us.
**Some swear by co-sleeping, it’s not for us.

Snips, Snails & Puppy Dog Tails (S&T)

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I have not made it a secret to anyone that I had always wanted a little girl. Someone I could dress up in pretty clothes and have tea parties with. Someone who would be just as frustrated with toilet seats left up and hockey sticks left about.

When I was trying to get, and subsequently stay, pregnant with our third child I often dreamed of what she would look like. I imagined a tiny little thing with big blue eyes and blonde curls like me. I though having another girl in the house would soften things up a bit. When the fifth pregnancy looked like it was going to stick I was looking forward to the 20 week ultrasound so I could get a glimpse of who I was carrying. When the technician told us we were having another boy I will admit for a brief moment I was a bit disappointed. Visions of ballet shoes and frilly frocks were replaced by soccer cleats and grass stained jeans. I realized just how stupid I was being and I should be grateful for a healthy pregnancy and eventually a healthy baby boy.

Sgt always seems to be away when a crisis arises so I have had to rely on myself a lot. One time my dishwasher went on strike halfway through its cycle and spewed water all over the kitchen floor. Because I realized how much I loathe washing dishes by hand I grabbed some tools, took it apart and fixed the problem. I was also too cheap to call in a repairman. This tour he left during our lambing season. I rely on the older boys, Will and Charlie, to lend a hand with the docking, and castration of the lambs.  The latter being a bit difficult for them to watch but they do so because they know how much I need them when their dad is gone.

This week I was clearing out the garage and asked bribed the boys to help out. While cleaning out the cupboard where we keep the painting supplies we came across this beast.

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I handled myself with dignity and grace jumped and ran inside the house screaming like, well like a girl, while the boys pissed themselves laughing. Later that night I thanked my brave boys for saving me from the dead vermin and I knew at that moment why I was chosen to be the mother of sons and not daughters. A daughter would have screamed and ran with me leaving the rat corpse in the garage until Sgt came home in July.

Henry is just like his brothers. Rough and tumble. He swings a hockey stick with uncanny accuracey, digs in the dirt and pulls out worms for me to see. He brings me pebbles and sticks that he has found so I can carry them home for him. He loves being in the barn helping with the evening chores. I can only hope that one day he will be able to save his mom from a  dead rat.

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To Tell or Not To Tell

Several month ago Sgt and I discovered our oldest son had been suspended from school. Five days for smoking pot. We were shocked? To be honest, not really. We had suspected he had smoked a little green a month before at a party.

The most difficult part of this situation was the fact the both of us had partaken in a little (or a lot) of weed smoking when we were young. And our son knew it.

I have always been open with the boys and any question they ask always gets an honest answer. This seems to have come back to bite me in the ass because now when I pull out the At Home Drug Kit I get the oh so familiar “But you did it when you were a kid Mom.”

Ouch.

My question for you internet peeps is this. When the time comes (or if it already has) and your son/daughter asks you if you had partied like Michael Phelps what is your answer going to be?

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