May 12

Things I Know I Have And Wish I Could Find

I love our new home.  I hated moving.  I’m still hating moving.  There are still unpacked boxes, disorganization and chaos, not to mention more than half the crap that is lost, is mine. 🙁

Stuff I know that I have and wish I could find:

1. My backup hard drive.  I know I have one, I use it all the time because I do not trust my laptop to live much longer and I take a copious amount of photographs that I do NOT want to lose when this laptop finally starts its death rattle.  I really wish I could remember or find the box I packed it in.  And I really, really wish that I had someone other than myself to blame.  Blech.

2. About 10 bottles of shampoo.  Yes, yes, I know, who needs 10 bottles of shampoo?  The simple answer is ME, I do.  Stop judging me, it’s not like I have 100 bottles.  That would be a problem.  BUT, I bought them on a crazy discount sale and was really depending on not having to buy shampoo again until sometime in 2014 and now that plan is shot to hell.  Dammit.

3. That last Cadbury Cream egg.  I could really, really use that right now.  I’m pretty upset about that shampoo and Cadbury tends to help me through these emotional crisis.  For the love of all things holy, STOP JUDGING ME.  It’s not like I’ve lost my mickey of Vodka or something.   Geez.

4.  Our DVD player.  I know – weird one, huh?  BUT, I can see the box we packed it in (it’s a huge box with the throw pillows from the couch and the shelves from the T.V. unit just to name a few things), I just can not FIND the box that we packed it in.  And I want it back.  The kids are no help either, they have VHS to keep them happy.  Cretins.

5.  Most of my tee shirts.  And pretty much all of the ones that were made for woman AND that fit me.  Curiouser and Curiouser.  I have tee shirts in my drawer, and most of them are mine (now), but I don’t seem to have many that were made, designed or meant to be worn by a woman.  Of those, yesterday, I had precisely three.  So I gave in and bought three more.  So I’m up to six and I’m good with that number but  I’m taking bets on how long I’m wearing each one before some kind of catastrophic spill occurs and sends me back into my oversized, shapeless men’s tees (mostly freebies from cereal boxes, no less!).

I’m sure there are more things that I can’t find but now that I’ve spent this time listing these few things, I’m too discouraged to continue, so I’m going to quit while I’m ahead and go and find me that Cadbury egg (or at this point, a handful of chocolate chips, will do).  Little bastard has to be around here somewhere.  Just watch it be packed with the shampoo AND the DVD player. Heads will roll! (well, I guess only mine will because it will be my fault and that will suck because I will NEVER live it down and I can’t put myself in time out because then I’ll be accused of taking a holiday.  And I will probably have to share the egg, but I will have clean hair for cheap again, so it’s not a total wash).

This is what is eluding my capture and what will truly (maybe)soothe this savage (or demented, I suppose) beast.


May 12

A Month Of Firsts – And Then She Squished My Boobs Sideways…

So, this post will be fairly devoid of photos, because as much as I curse and use questionable language I am not ready to go down the homemade, amateur porn road (see how easy it is to just say NO, Octo?).  And trust me, you’re not ready for me to go down that road either.  You’re welcome.


 “First”Number 7 – The Mammogram Saga

Anyway, very shortly after we moved into our new home, Mr. KB noticed some unusual lumpiness on my breast one night as I was drying off after my shower (aside: SAHP, don’t you just LOVE it when you don’t have time to shower until moments before you go to sleep?  It is just the best EVER.  Um, actually, no it’s not, nevermind) and asked me about it.  I looked and saw it, felt it and realized that um, ya, there was something funky there and it didn’t feel right.


Calm face, voice, demeanour.  Nonchalance to keep Mr. KB from being too alarmed.  I’ll call the doctor in the morning, Honey, and make an appointment to get in and have it looked at. We go to bed, sleep uneasily and wake up to the usual kiddie chaos, fighting, screaming and lost lunch bags.  Get everyone fed, sorted and out the door and then call and make the appointment for the following evening.

Waiting.  Sucks.  Mr. KB stressed out, worried.  Me, deciding that “this” isn’t going to happen to me.  Period.

Appointment time, I leave Mr. KB to manage bedtime routines and head into town for my appointment. Not much of a wait, although there are some very interesting specimens to observe in the waiting room.  People watching (without being too obvious or getting caught) is one of my favourite things to do.  Mr. KB calls me nosy, I call me interested.  Maybe it’s a bit of both.  Besides, there are some fucked up looking people out there.  Not my fault but why shouldn’t I reap the benefits?  People’s lives, freakish and ordinary, fascinate me, I can’t help it.

Name called, into the exam room.  Chit chat with the doctor, flash some lumpy boob, careful to conceal the nipple-area because unless it’s absolutely necessary, I try to limit my nipple exposure in public (take note Lindsay and Ms. Jackson sometimes it is cooler to NOT show nipple).  Except when I was nursing.  Then it was a virtual nipple free-for-all.  No apologies forthcoming, so stop waiting.

Referral for a mammogram and ultrasound (um, but  but, mammograms are for OLD women, aren’t they? And I only have ultrasounds to see fetuses and heartbeats and shit – this can’t be happening).

Panic.  Breathe.  Refind calm demeanor to convey the information to my beloved.

Another stupid night of non-restful sleep.  Repeat the routine of the following morning, except add a trip to nursery school to drop Rigatoni for the morning, then home and calling the lab.  Oh, they can take me tonight?  Well, that’s kind of fast.  Hmmm.  Why are they seeing me so quickly?  If I were pregnant I would have to call three clinics to get an ultrasound appointment a month in advance.  How quickly this appointment is offered is disconcerting.  To say the least.

So, once again that night I depart and leave Mr. KB to put the feral monkeys to bed.  I get to the lab and there is no wait.  What is with this place and speed?  It is not calming at all when things move quickly.  But off we go, into a small, tidy room at the back of the lab.  I’m handed the generic gown and instructed to remove everything from the waist up and then wait.  Again, not much of a wait.  It would seem that the universe is conspiring to flatten me as quickly as possible.  The lab tech was really nice, but at the end of the day, she was the one that was going to place each of my breasts on a glass plate and then smush the hell out of it with another glass plate while shooting ionizing radiation through my body to find out of my lumpiness was a bad  lumpiness that was going to turn our lives inside out or just further proof that I’m some kind of super human superhero.

Okay, pervs. Enough already! Here’s your damned boob shot. But for the record, these are not my boobs. Mine were flatter at the time of imaging. Hope you’re all happy now.

Now, you may think that having flat boobs is a bad thing.  It’s not so bad.  Smushed flat is preferrable to the side smashing that comes next.  Not fun, not flattering and not comfortable. I don’t know if all mammogram techs are female, but I am ever thankful that mine was.

And this is what the Smusher looks like. It looks innocent enough, until you remember that top plate is going to slam down on your breast until you’re flatter than you were in the third grade. I can’t say that I’m a fan, but as long as it saves lives, I’m all for it. BUT, I’m pretty sure that no one (read: no MAN) has invented a similar machine to squish nuts for early detection purposes. The fuzzy end of the lollipop again, ladies.

An ultrasound is an ultrasound, but this time it actually had answers for me.  I must admit that I much prefer my previous ultrasounds when I got to see my baby’s heartbeat or perfect little body growing inside me, but in absence of a baby, what the ultrasound tech found this time was good too.  A very funkily and completely blocked duct.  And that’s all.  So, no badness and sadly, no superhero proof either.  I’ll find that proof one of these days.

Relief.  Happiness.  A renewed committment to lose weight, eat healthier and take better care of myself and be around for Mr. KB and my kids for a long, long time.

And then I shared a tub of Moose Tracks with Mr. KB and I think that we both finally breathed again.  And thought ‘ah, fuck it.  The celery will still be in the fridge for me to feast on tomorrow.’ (And likely for the rest of the month *grin*).

P.S.  Just a tip that is completely Keswick-related and I really, really wish that I would have known two pregnancies ago – The ultrasound and lab in Keswick on the Queensway (above Fabricland and down the hall from Keswick Dental) will do testing for ANY doctor and/or midwife, not just local ones (as I was lead to believe all these many years ago now).  Knowing this would have saved me many un-necessary trips to Newmarket and even as far as Richmond Hill (!!) to get prenatal testing and routine ultrasounds done.  And not having to make extra trips to Newmarket or Richmond Hill would have been a HUGE time and money saver.  So, if you’re with York Region Midwives or have an OB-GYN north or south of the ‘wick, keep this place in mind, it’s less than likely that your service provider will have Keswick-specific requisitions – none of mine did.  Oh well, live and learn and pass it on 🙂

May 12

Tonight I Paid My Respects

Ever since the arrangements for Kyle Ehinger were released, I’ve been determined to go and pay my respects to his family.  I usually hide away from large gatherings of any type, and tend to avoid situations where it’s just me, alone and not knowing anyone else, in a gathering of people who all know (and appear to like) one another.  But I’m done hiding away and am putting on my big girl pants and stepping outside my comfort zone and actually being a grown up and not just acting as though I am a grown up.

But tonight, I was not sure that I would pull it off.   What would I say to Kelly and Ed Ehinger?  “I’m sorry” sounds so lame, but it’s true, I am sorry.  And as I drove to Sutton this evening, my vision kept getting blurred as my eyes filled with tears, while I thought about this 18 year-old man-child, who felt, if even just for that one critical moment, no hope for his future.  And I thought about his girlfriend, Sam, who I do not know and have never met, but I have read her posts to and about Kyle on Facebook, and my heart aches for her.  I saw her at the funeral home tonight and she is (physically) the tiniest little girl and she is carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.  And she is holding her own.  She is strong and I admire her strength.  From only watching her at the viewing tonight and reading her posts, I just know that she will come out on the other side of this nightmare and live a long, blessed life.

The crowd at the funeral home was unreal.  Kyle was barely 18 years old but seeing the sheer number of people who showed up to see him one last time, to say good-bye, to hug his parents and each other was, well, honestly, nothing prepared me for the sight.  For the first time, I really understood what it means when “they” say that a town is grieving.  That is Georgina right now.  It is a collection of towns that are grieving the loss of this child (and yes, I know that technically he was an adult, but I’m a mom, and Kyle, who turned 18 just weeks after my Declan did, so to me he was a child, and I make no apologies for that).  I looked around at the various groupings of people who were chatting, laughing, crying, hugging, comforting and talking quietly, many of them wearing ‘In Loving Memory of Kyle Ehinger’ tee shirts and I wondered to myself – who was Kyle?  How did this kid influence and make such an impact on this many people in the short time that he was with us?  What was it about him that made him so special to so many people?  And why was it not enough to save him?

When I left the funeral home, I had a bit (okay, more than a bit) of a cry, then I texted Declan and asked if he wanted to meet me for a bit.  He did, so we did, and it helped put my mind and heart at ease, to see him, talk to him, check in with him, hug him and know for myself that my firstborn was okay.  Then I came home and checked on my four sleeping smalls and kissed each one of them and took a moment to marvel at how perfectly beautiful they are.  With the stresses and pressures of life, it is far too easy to forget to stop and really love and appreciate our children.  I, for one, really need to make sure that I slow down and enjoy my kids.  Cleaning the house, doing the laundry, unpacking from our move – those things will all still be there (waiting for me, like a some kind of rabid stalker) after bedtime.  Life and love are far more precious than clean dishes and empty boxes.

Tomorrow Kyle’s family and friends will say their final goodbyes.  I will not be there.  With my two smallest smalls home with me still, I know that we would be a disruption or distraction and that is the last thing that I want.  For those of you who would like to attend but do not have the latest information, Ed, Kyle’s dad, posted some additional information on Kyle’s FB Wall, this afternoon:

“on Thursday there will be a procession from TaylorS funeral home in Sutton to the OUR LADY OF THE LAKE church in Keswick
we will have a file past the casket before for anyone who wishes to see him for the last time.please come early for that Kyle is gonna ride in the back of his own truck leading the way !

So, I will say goodbye to Kyle now.  Rest in Peace, child.  I hope that you have found in death what you could not find in life.  Watch over your family and friends until they can see you again, they miss you so.

Borrowed this picture from Kyle’s Facebook page. There were too many to make choosing just one an easy task, but this one spoke to me. I hope it speaks to you as well.

May 12

And Then Our Miss Moon Turned Two!

I was always afraid to one day have a daughter.  Having been a girl my whole life (just in case anyone was thinking we had another pregnant man situation here, rest assured, we do not), and having been a teenage girl for seven or so years (a couple of decades ago), the thought of parenting a girl, quite frankly, scared the shit out of me.So, I became a mother to boys.  One after another, until there were four of them.  But we didn’t feel like our family was complete yet, so one last time, knowing, just knowing that we’d have five boys at the end of it, we got pregnant again.

And then Miss Moon was born.  And our lives have never been the same.  I love my boys, all of them, big and small, but having a daughter is so very different for me.  I know, it’s only been two years and her teen years will probably kick my ass, but I can’t help it.  She delights me.  And I was meant to have her in my life.

Daddy holding Miss Miranda just hours after she was born. It was love at first sight.

And when I saw these perfect little feet, I knew that they would carry her safely for thousands and millions of miles throughout her life, and I wanted to remember them, brand new and perfect forever.

So perfect, like her brothers before her, yet completely and totally her own brand of perfection.

And somehow, we made it through a year with her, juggling her needs and the needs of her brothers and each other.

Miss Moon’s 1st Birthday, a year ago now (and her feet are still lovely!).

And then, in the blink of an eye, and a million life changes, buying and selling our home, moving, her eldest brother moving out, not to mention all the milestones she passed (and continues to pass almost daily) she turned two.  Out of nowhere, my baby girl turned two.

In the past year she has grown up so much.  She doesn’t talk much (or more accurately, she doesn’t speak very much English, she talks all the time, it’s just in Miranda-ese), but she understands absolutely everything we say to her.  She is very proficient with the word “NO!” which, while cute the first hundred or so times, is not so much cute anymore.  But, watching her do things that she sees us or her brothers do is fabulous and she melts my heart on an almost hourly basis with her sweetness.  And she’s headstrong and fiery (hmmm, with Mr. KB and me as parents, was fiery at all avoidable?  I think not), and independent and loving, helpful and gentle.  She is all curly blonde hair and serious big blue eyes.  She looks before she leaps (which I really hope that she continues to do throughout her life, but know that she probably will not) and she has the wisdom to reach for my hand when she’s unsure of something.  And I love that.  I cherish those moments.

So, while I am still sure that I will be forced to start drinking heavily or develop some serious pill habit to get through her teen years, I wouldn’t trade her, or being her mom, or the experience of raising a girl, for anything in the world.

Happy 2nd Birthday, sweet baby girl.  We love you.


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Family / Keswick Kids / Serious stuff4 Comments
May 12

And Only Because This IS The Keswick Blog…

Am I going to post the obituary for my son’s friend, Kyle Ehinger, who took his own life, in Sutton, on May 17th, 2012.

Kyle’s family, friends and girlfriend need the support of everyone in Georgina and beyond right now.

I cannot even imagine the soul-searing anguish that Kyle’s mother is feeling right now.

My heart and thoughts go out to everyone has been touched by Kyle’s life and all of his friends and family who are missing him so very, very much now.

Declan, my love,  I promise you, it will get better.  You will never forget Kyle, you will love and remember him forever, but your emptiness and sorrow will subside with time.  I promise you, my baby, you will heal and feel whole again.   I love you, Mum.

Kyle and Declan

Ehinger, Kyle Karl

At his home in Sutton on Thursday May 17, 2012 at the age of 18 years.  Kyle Ehinger, beloved son of Ed and Kelly.  Dear brother of Jennifer (Doug Riddle), Shannon (Kyle Perry), and Chris (Amber Lini).  Dear uncle of Brayden, Ava, Brody and Evan Kyle Charles.  Much loved grandson of Hartmut and Nora Ehinger, Marie Dunn, and Ron and Diane Marshall.  Beloved nephew of Elayne (Jim) Hulshoff, Lynn (Randy) Marles, Joe Marshall, Gerry (Kim) Marshall, Paul (Cheryl) Marshall, Pete Marshall, and Karen Marshall.  Kyle will be lovingly remembered by his many cousins, extended family and his many, many friends.

Kyle was a student at Our Lady of the Lake Catholic College School (O.L.L.), Keswick, where he was captain of the Rugby team and where he also won many awards in the automotive technology troubleshooting skills competitions.

Resting at the Forrest & Taylor Funeral Home, 20846 Dalton Road, Sutton from 2 – 4 and 7-9 p.m. Tuesday and Wednesday.  Funeral Mass will be celebrated in Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church, 129 Metro Road North, Keswick, Thursday at 2:00 p.m.  Cremation to follow.  Memorial donations to a bursary fund at O.L.L. in Kyle’s memory would be appreciated by the family.  Memorial condolences may be made at www.forrestandtaylor.com

At This Moment / Family / Gratitude and Blessings / Serious stuffNo Comments
May 12

At This Moment I Am

Tired.  I’m still fighting this flu and right now, it feels like I’m on the losing end.  Neither Mr. KB or I are sleeping very well right now and that’s not helping us get healthy again.  I’d really like to nap right now while my smalls do the same, but I know that I won’t.

…Sad.  Wondering what would drive my son’s friend to hang himself yesterday.  The devastation he has left behind is overwhelming, vast and so, so sad.  I didn’t know the boy well, but he had been to our house a couple of times and just goes to prove once again that appearances can be deceiving and we never really know what is lurking in someone else’s mind.  Depression is a fucker that lies to us and makes us think there is no hope and now this boy’s parents, siblings, girlfriend, and friends have to live with the result of his depression and it’s lies forever.

…Grateful.  That my children and loved ones are safe and sound right now.

…Regretful.  For getting angry at Rigatoni for spilling his rice all over the floor and then being silly about cleaning it up.  Yes, he needed to clean it up, but was it really worth getting angry at him for?  I don’t think so.

 …Hopeful.  That I can shake this headache and feel more human again soon.

…Excited.  To get things done.  Not negating the recent tragedy in Georgina, it’s important for me to remember that there are so many wonderful and positive things in our future and to focus my energy on feeling positive and happy about all of the good things in my life.

Two of our three little kittens. Today they are 10 days old. Butterball is on the left and we haven’t named her brother or sister yet. Putting their picture up today because I really need to find my ‘happy’ right now and for some reason, these kittens are helping me (a life-long non-cat person) do that.  This was taken before they opened their eyes, but all three are up and looking around now :)

I got the idea to do a “Right now I am…” post from Kristen over at The Frugal Girl (thanks, Kristen! 🙂 ).  It was a lot of fun writing it out and really did help me to focus myself a little better.  Trying something new, getting myself out of my comfort zone is hard, but so worth it.  I really should remember that!

Dreams / Family / Serious stuff / The Good2 Comments
May 12

Happy Anniversary, My Love

Today is our anniversary.  We’ve been hit with a nasty flu bug that has made us achey-breaky this week, and if I could somehow rip out my own throat, I probably would, but we’re together, side-by-side, working towards our future and dreams.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

From our first date to our wedding day may have been a mere 74 days, but I wouldn’t change anything about ‘our’ story for anything in the world.

I am so thankful for all that you are and all that you do for me and for all of us.  I appreciate and love you beyond my feeble abilities to articulate those feelings here.

I love being with you and married to you.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Shitdoodles! Look at how SKINNY I looked that day! I’d me wed too! I still have the dress, if I cut off one of my legs, I may be able to get into it again…

And I love that you love me even more the fatter and funnier I get as the years pass.  That fact alone makes you the shiz-nizzle!

And then I kissed you like I meant it. And I did. And I still do. So there.

P.S.  Thank you again for such a delicious dinner (Gluten-Free Shrimp Alfredo!!) and for serving it to me even in all of my unbathed, make-up free, fatter-than-the-chick-you-married flu-ish glory.  You da bomb.

Bustified / Family / Home and Food4 Comments
May 12

A Month of First Times… Featuring: The Dumpster Diaries

A month of firsts and a dumpster could sound good or bad depending on your age, perspective, general outlook on life and where you currently fall on the intoxication scale.

This past month, has been full of ‘firsts’ for me.  So many in fact that I may need to break this topic down into installments, but off the top of my head, here is a preliminary list of firsts for me this past month:

1.  Closing on the purchase of a house (our previous home belonged to my husband when we got married);

2.  Organizing and arranging and actually moving an entire house (and storage unit) full of stuff;

3.  Watching my eldest son (18) pack his stuff and ‘move out’;

4.  Procuring a dumpster and filling it, after realizing that we purchased a home from someone who never threw anything away and didn’t take all of his stuff/garbage/crap with him;

5.  Dealing with Animal Control to capture the EIGHT feral cats, said previous owner left behind;

6.  Dealing with Animal Control to arrange to borrow a crate for the one tame (and pregnant) cat that said previous owner abandoned;

7.  Finding some scary looking lumpiness in my breast and going for a mammogram and ultrasound in short order ( good result, but anxiety-inducing nonetheless);

8.  Learning to drive a John Deere lawn tractor and cutting the front lawn (and NOT dying from crashing or fear!);

9.  Looking around at my home and surroundings and feeling really and completely *happy* and content with my life;

10.  Really saying what I mean and meaning what I say.  This has been very, very hard for me for quite a few reasons, mostly having to do with not wanting to upset or hurt anyone’s feelings.

I have taken pictures over the past month.  Not as many as I would have liked to, but whenever I remembered and the moment existed to grab my camera (have I ever mentioned that I love, love, love my camera?!?) and take some shots, I did.  I’ll share as many as possible with each post (where reasonable / G-rated.  Read: No boobie shots!).

“First” Number 4 – It’s Dumpster Time!

Mr. KB on top of all of the crap in the dumpster that we pulled from every corner of the house, basement and garage. That dinky car beside it is my seven-seater mini van!

I wish that I had some good pictures of just how much ‘stuff’ (read: complete and utter shitty garbage) was left for us to deal with by the previous owner, but the pictures that I have really don’t do it justice.  Well, the pictures that I have aside from  the pictures I have  of the full-to-the-brim dumpster that took us three days and three to five grown people to fill, that is.  The end result of all of our hard work?  A mostly empty house, 2.86 metric TONNES of trash and a $500 bin rental and tipping fee bill (although there is some  talk about the bill being picked up by the seller, but since it’s been a month and we haven’t seen a dime so far, I’ll stop holding my breath now – not nice to try to kill me like that, dude).  Sooooo, not exactly in the ‘broom swept condition’ that was written into our Agreement of Purchase and Sale, is it?  After being basically told to fuck off by the seller and his agent (who also, incidentally we were told wasn’t “our bitch” niiiiiice!) when we expressed our very LEGITIMATE concerns over the condition of the house with respect to the clean out, we gave space and even gave our seller an extra eight hours after closing to get it done.  This is after having a firm closing date, that all parties knew and understood for THREE FULL MONTHS.

It would seem that our seller didn’t use his time wisely (or at all), because had he, Mr. KB and I would not have a DUMPSTER in front of our new home the day after closing.  Would we?  Hmmmm.  Nope, I most definitely would have opted for some nice hanging flower baskets or something similar instead, me thinks.

If you ever have to clean up and clear any part of your house, basement or garage out with a SHOVEL, the shit has just gotten REAL. AND when this picture was taken it was only Day 2 of 3… Moral: Friends don’t let friends be fucking hoarders.

So, here we are, one month later, in the house we love that is now completely (or is it?!?) devoid of the former owners hoard and while we have discovered more things about this house that need immediate(ish) attention and things that are going to cost more money that we hadn’t counted on, we really do love it here, as we clear the years of debris and neglect and reveal the beauty of the house and land again.

Excellent find, Mr. KB.  I love, love our new home, (now that our dumpster days are done!) thank you for finding it.  And I have no idea how you’re going to top this one!

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