Still leading up to a love story, aka CeCe's slut story, aka, how CeCe met Armondo, (Series Part II)

You can find the Series Part One here.

Before I continue on, I figured it might be a good idea to clarify something. The first post, and part of this post explain what had happened during the course of a summer. I am, however, counting all the months off from school as "summer" which means, I'm counting May through Sept as "summer", so if it seems like my timing is off as you're reading, then that's why. Also, in the upcoming post, I know I'll have some of the timing of details off a bit, but I'm fine with that! Everything all basically happened that summer and the following Autumn!

So, after I gave my notice a the pharmacy, I started right away looking for another job. I wanted to find a restaurant job this time, in hopes to make a bit more money. I didn't have any serving experience at this point, but I had bussed at a pretty fancy restaurant in my previous town, and that particular job gave quite the ass busting! (And, a good reference.)

My on and off boyfriend at the time really didn't want me to get a job at a restaurant, saying "If you get a job at a restaurant, you'll find some cook to fall for!" I didn't quite get it, and he responded saying "Well, it happened last time!"

When I was working at the fancy restaurant bussing, I had met this cook there. His real name is actually the same as Armondo's real name, but we'll just call him "Jimbo" (just like "Armondo" is a play on my husband's middle name, "Jimbo" is a play on this guy's middle name too.) When Jimbo and I first started to get together, we kept it a secret so that our bosses wouldn't get upset. We were basically just "friends with benefits" at first, but it wasn't long before I fell for him. We had started off so casual though, that it was hard to figure out exactly how to define our relationship during the two years we were together. Part of the problem was also that he's the lead singer in a band, and during our time together, he was having a lot of fun playing the "rock star". We were not a good match for each other, and often brought out the worst in each other, but for some reason, we couldn't stay apart for long periods of time.

Being that I was vehicle-less, Jimbo actually had to help me out by driving me around town to drop resumes off at the different restaurants. I got hired at an Western/Asian fusion restaurant. For the first couple of weeks, on nights when I got off too late to take the bus home, I would go to Jimbo's house which was nearby, and I would hang out with him and his room mate. In the meantime, I was looking to buy a scooter, and found one a few weeks into the job.

During these first few weeks of the job, Jimbo and I were mostly "off", but we were still pretty good friends. But because we were "off", his room mate started to move in on me. He had sat back and watched all the nasty things Jimbo was doing behind my back for the past two years (like having girls come over and sleep in his bed with him overnight, lying to me about where he was some nights, etc.) and had started to feel sorry for me, and in my estimation had somehow fallen in love with me as well. We'll just call this guy "room mate" or RM for short, 'cause I just can't come up with a clever name for him. RM and I started to watch series of horror films together. It has started at Jimbo and RM's place, but because Jimbo hated horror movies, we started to take the movies to my place instead. We watched all the "Friday the 13th" series and the "Nightmare on Elm Street" movies and were starting to go through most of Stephen King's movies. We had spent several evenings alone together by this time, and he and I were vverrrry slowly starting to sit closer to each other, then cuddle, and eventually, by the time we got to the Stephen King series, we had s3x on my couch. It was hard to refuse this guy, because he had listened to every complaint I had about Jimbo, and knew just how to press the right buttons with me. Jimbo didn't ever touch my hair, so RM would touch my hair. Jimbo never told me I was beautiful (though he DID tell me I was hot, but it's not the same), so RM told me I was beautiful. Jimbo hated holding hands, never cuddled, and couldn't stand horror movies, so RM filled all these voids for me. Jimbo was pretty good in bed, but there wasn't a lot of passion, RM, however, was quite passionate.

Like I said, Jimbo and I were "off" at this time, but both RM and I felt pretty bad about sleeping together. And really, I hadn't completely gotten over Jimbo, and figured that someday, he and I would get back together and actually be able to have a real relationship. (I wasn't totally aware at this point what he had been doing behind my back.) Anyway, I had basically just started working at this restaurant, and I hadn't been there long enough to actually start asking for weekends off, so when one of our friends was having his 30th birthday party bash at a cabin on a nearby island, I couldn't get the time off to go. RM didn't take the time off work either. So, out of ALL of our friends, the two of us were the only ones who stayed home that weekend. So I spent the night at his house (which, in case you're not following along, was also Jimbo's place.) I wore some nice lingerie for him (which he really appreciated, but Jimbo NEVER did) and we had a nice night together. Somewhat early in the morning, I packed up my stuff to leave and as I was headed out the door, Jimbo came home. We made small talk before I left, but I could see the hurt in his eyes when he saw me leaving after obviously sleeping with his room mate.

During the following days, some details and photos from the party started making their rounds. It turns out that Jimbo had spent the night with another girl. The two of us had already discussed RM's and my rendevous, but he hadn't mentioned anything about this girl. When I confronted him with it, he swore up and down that he hadn't had sex with her, but that they had just cuddled a bit and he had played with her hair! *insert record scratching sound here* WHAT?!? Sex wasn't really an issue with the two of us. There was plenty of sex to go around, it was just that he was never affectionate, never cuddly, and it was for these specific reasons that we had broken up so many times before. That past weekend, he had given this other girl what I had been longing for for years from him!

And then, for some reason, we got back together. It was mid August by this time.

Meanwhile, I had got my scooter and was able to get around town and get myself to work. But not before I had to bum a ride off of one of the Sushi Chefs there a couple of times. He lived in my neighbourhood basically (though he was in the middle of moving), and although he didn't really seem to like giving one of the other cooks rides home, he didn't have much problem driving me home those couple of times. In walks Armondo into my life.

At first, there was not much of an attraction on my part. He had this nasty old beater of a car, and he smoked. The car stunk, and really, so did he. If he didn't smell like fish in his sushi jacket, then he smelled like an ashtray in his casual jacket. But he was a nice enough guy, and we got along alright.

Shortly after Jimbo and I got back together, my uncle came to my area to go to a biker rally, and he invited and paid for me to go. Jimbo was welcome to come with, but didn't want to take the weekend off work. Most of my uncle's friends who were there were paired off and everyone was having s3x in the tents around me, so on the second night, my uncle's one single friend and I hooked up. It was sort of fun. I felt young and sexy and alive, and I felt like I had basically seduced this older, shy man. I've never seen this guy since, which is probably best, though I do get the odd update from my uncle here and there.

When I got home, I admitted to Jimbo what I had done, and although he was crying and hurt, he didn't want us to break up again. That was very confusing to me, but somehow, after hurting him and doing to him what I sort of knew he had done to me, and after knowing that I didn't NEED him, that I was perfectly sexy and capable without him, I decided that we really did need to break up. We were in a class together at school, and we still had sex a couple of times after that, so we didn't totally break it off right away. Old habits die hard.

Then, there was the birthday boy. A few days after ending things with Jimbo, a younger, male friend of mine and I were chatting online. Somehow, we sort of started to flirt, and he admitted to me that he hadn't had sex since he was 15, and that the girl he had just broken up with had not slept with him nor given him so much as a blow job in THREE YEARS.

And then he told me that "Every year, I say to myself that I WILL get laid before my next birthday, and here we are, tomorrow's my birthday, and again, I haven't got laid!"

So, without much more discussion, he came over to my place at 3 in the morning, picked me up, took me back to his place and we had s3x. Happy Birthday, kiddo! Then, before 6 am, I was back at my house and going to sleep.

This is where my timing gets a little messed, but I'll just make it up as I go...

By this time, we're getting into mid October, I think? Armondo and I were getting along a bit better at work, and one night I tried to get a bunch of co-workers to go out with my friend "Patty" and I. Armondo was the only one who agreed, and he met us downtown. It was just a few days after the incident with "Birthday Boy". I was on my scooter, and for some reason, I agreed to letting Armondo drive it for a bit with Patty on the back. I think he almost got them hit by a car! Anyway, after hanging out that night, it was still sort of early (early for us folks who worked at a restaurant, but VERY late by my standards these days!) and I asked Armondo if he still wanted to hang out. He did, and we rented a movie and went to go watch it at his house. It was my first time at his place, and although his female room mate wasn't home, I got to see much more of her than I wanted to! She was an art student at the time, and in their dining room was several 3x4 foot nude self portraits. And the photos she was painting from.

Armondo and I had a nice evening together, and after the movie, I went home. I was still sleeping with Jimbo here and there, and actually slept with him again before the next time Armondo and I hung out. The second time Armondo and I spent some time at his house, we ended up getting a little bit of cuddling in, but nothing more. At the end of the evening, I had decided that I did, indeed like him, smoking and all, and when he told me that he had enjoyed hanging out with me and "would like to hang out with (me) again, like a lot, exclusively" or something like that, I responded with "Ok, give me a few days, I need to sort a few things out."

That's when I completely ended things with Jimbo, told RM that things weren't ever going to go any further with us, (it helped that he had moved away during this time) and I decided to focus on Armondo.

Jimbo was right. I had got a job in a restaurant, met a cook and fell for him. Funny too, that this cook also had the same first name, and was also the lead singer in a band too. But Armondo was nothing like Jimbo in most other ways. Although it took me longer than Armondo's room mate to figure it out, it wasn't too long before I knew that Armondo was actually quite the guy and that he and I had something special.

(And in case you care, Jimbo ended up dating the girl from that party for awhile before moving on and finding a totally awesome chick who totally compliments him and really brings out the best in him. And, last I heard, RM was engaged to one of Jimbo's old exes, and the two of them are totally in love, and apparently perfect for each other.)

My Kid's a Fricken Genius!

But we all knew that, right?

I got her a new sippy cup with a straw in it, in hopes she could learn how to use a straw. I wasn't overly hopeful that it would work, but in a quick 30 seconds, she had it figured!
Hopefully this new skill will transfer over to other types of straws!

Belinda

Today, good blogging buddy Belinda is going in for some major surgery.

Please take the time to send good thoughts and prayers to her.

If you want, go leave her a comment at Ninja Poodles, or find the link to her email and send her a note.

She's a good woman, and has been through a lot lately. She deserves a speedy recovery.

A Little Info on Urine.

The following was taken from "Caring 4 Urology" but can be found in several sources on line.

Facts About Urine

• Adults pass about 1½ quarts of urine each day, depending on the fluids and food consumed.
• The volume of urine created at night is about half that formed in the daytime.
• Normal urine is sterile. It contains fluids, salts, and waste products. But it is free of bacteria, viruses, and fungi.
• The tissues of the bladder are isolated from urine and toxic substances by a coating that discourages bacteria from attaching and growing on the bladder wall.

I would say that if you completed Biology 12, or if you've watched the movie "Dodge Ball" you would have already known that urine is completely safe to drink though.

From Dodgeball:

Peter La Fleur: [after Patches hits Justin in the face with a wrench] Yeah, uh, Patches... are you sure that this is completely necessary?
Patches O'Houlihan: Necessary? Is it necessary for me to drink my own urine?
Peter La Fleur: Probably not.
Patches O'Houlihan: No, but I do it anyway because it's sterile and I like the taste.
Peter La Fleur: ...Okay.

On a Lighter Note:

~I took Cherry swimming today and she had a blast! We have two pools in our town, and one of them is much newer and way "cooler", but the old one has a cheap swim in the morning three days a week, and we are SO taking advantage of that now that I've got naps switched to afternoons. It's way less busy there and there are more tiny kids, as the "leisure" pool is a little more toddler friendly and doesn't have huge waves to knock them over. I was scoping the other kids out to see if they had cool parents that I could maybe hang out with , but the one kid who was Cherry's age was there with his grandma, and the other parents there had kids who were a few years older than Cherry, so we struck out today.

But, like I said, Cherry had a blast. The lifeguards all thought she was crazy and fearless, as she would walk to depths up to her chin and then dunk herself. I was always right there beside her, and would pull her back up, and every time, she'd have a huge smile plastered on her face, and she'd clap to congratulate herself. The lifeguards got quite the kick out of it. Funny how she won't dunk herself in the bath though!

~Speaking of baths...The caulking around our tub needs to be replaced and I haven't really had the chance to do it yet (and I'm not sure I want to, due to the fumes, and the fact that I have to bend over for a length of time, and my belly gets in the way), so I've had to either take baths or do this sort of squat shower thing with the hand-held shower head. Since both of these ways of getting clean take a little more time than I like, I'm only bathing every other day right now. And last night I decided to have a nice, deep, relaxing bath. Now, I generally don't really like baths, I sort of feel like I'm just sitting there in my own soup. So, in general, I have about one bath a year, and it's always followed by a full shower afterwards. (I don't mind the pool tough. Apparently sitting in soup with several other people is ok for me. Chlorine is my friend.) So, needless to say, it's sort of a big deal for me to actually pour a deep bath and for me to plan a long soak.

So, last night, I got undressed, slipped into the tub, and before I could fully lay down, Cherry woke up.
UGH. I waited my usual couple of minutes to see if she would fall back to sleep on her own, but nope. This wasn't a test. So, up I got, out of the tub and dealt with her.

After I got her diaper changed and found her soother for her again, I went back to the tub, poured more hot water, and slinked back in. It was nice. Ozzy was pretty cute, keeping me company, walking back and forth along the tub edge, and trying to figure out a way to jump in without getting wet. (She never did figure out a way, and just paced and purred the whole time.)

But the coolest thing about taking a bath in your third trimester (and the reason why I'm even telling you about my bath) is that if you're quiet enough, and stick your ears underwater, you can hear your baby's heart beat. It's true! I did it once when I was pregnant with Cherry and thought it was the coolest thing ever, and I was just as excited to hear the heart beat of this little one. Sometimes it's tough to differentiate between my own heart beat and the baby's so, I have to take my pulse at the same time so that I can know which heart beat to tune out. It's sort of a neat sort of "bonding" moment.

~Still on the topic of baths.... Cherry has taken to drinking her bath water. And, due to how I feel about bath water, this totally grosses me out. Esp. since I've seen her pee in the bath water on many occasions. But it's sort of hard to stop her. She has these stacking cup things that she loves to drink out of, and she'll get on her belly and just drink straight from the tub as well. She loves it and, it won't kill her, so even though it makes me squirm and gag, I let her do it. *ick*

~I think it's a boy. Yeah, the heartburn is incredibly bad this time around, and although, it might have to do with the fact that I'm cooking for myself, instead of eating gourmet Armondo meals, I have a feeling it's because it's a boy.

And that's all for tonight, folks.

A Story.

When I was 16 years old, I gave birth to my first child. Three months later she died due to complications pertaining to my drug use.

When I was 20, I married and got pregnant on the honeymoon. I had not told my husband that I had stopped taking birth control. My daughter Margaret was born two months after my 21st birthday.

My husband worked in the mines up north, and sometimes I'd follow him with the baby and live in those tiny little camps. Other times, I'd stay closer to civilization and he'd send the money down to us.

I hated being left alone, and would often waste all the money on partying and such.
The marriage ended before Margaret was a year old.

But this story is mostly about my relationship with my daughter. She was a darlin' little thing, looked just like me! I liked to dress her and myself up in matching bikinis and take her to the beach. She was the perfect fashion accessory.

But, I have to admit, sometimes being a single mother would get boring. I was a social butterfly and I wasn't going to let a small child get in the way of life.

Most of the time, I'd just take her along to the parties. She got along great with my biker friends, and would party until the wee hours with us! She was quite the little dancer.

Other times, I'd bring the party to my house.

Partying all the time wore me out though, and I often didn't roll out of bed until past noon. Margaret was pretty self sufficient though. At two, she knew the cul-de-sac like the back of her hand. She would just go outside by herself and find kids to play with. I was so impressed the time she was out playing by herself and got stung by a bee or wasp, and she didn't even really cry! That's my big girl.

She was so used to being on her own in the mornings that she even fed herself breakfast. She would climb on the counter and reach the cereal out of the high cupboard. Sometimes she would have milk with it, but usually she'd just eat it dry. One day she ate a WHOLE box of fruit loops! She would also get herself her own drink in the morning. I think she was three or four that day when I surprised her by actually being up in the morning. She had been looking for a cup for her juice, and was randomly pulling dirty mugs off of the counter in order to find one that was relatively clean. I just didn't have time to do the dishes most of the time! Anyway, she accidently pulled my full coffee cup off of the counter and burned and blistered her hand. She felt so bad for being naughty, and ran outside to cry. I found her outside, and although I was sort of angry, I didn't yell at her, and we went inside and dealt with her hand.

It was during this same time period that I was with my boyfriend Bill. He lived with us and was much more strict with the little one than I was. Whenever Marg was bad, he's whip down her pants, throw her over his knee and give her a few good whollops on the butt. He often left her so sore she couldn't sit properly or sleep on her back. The crying would exhaust her though and she'd be able to fall asleep. Bill had quite the temper. It was scary the time he got mad at me and broke his hand when he punched through the window by the front door. But I kept him around for awhile anyway.

I liked to do fun things with Bill and Marg, and one time we took her to the Disney On Ice capades. We couldn't afford the ticket price though, so we snuck through the back door.

When she was four, Bill tried to teach Margaret how to ride her two wheeler, but after one frustrating day, she told him she didn't want him to teach her, and she taught herself. Once she learned to ride that bike by herself, there wasn't much stopping her. She would take that bike everywhere. She would go visit other kids in the subdivision, and would often stay out until just before dark, when I would call her in. She would tell me of her adventures in the pond, the nearby woods, and going down to the corner store on the highway with her little buddies.

It was around this same time that I got her a kitten. Margaret was bad though, and let her out and she never came back. We never had another pet after that.

In general, Margaret was pretty easy going. There were a couple of times she got very upset with me though. I couldn't find a babysitter one night, so I took her to the bar with me and left her in the locked car. I told her to keep the doors locked and to not talk to any strangers. Several hours later, I returned to the car, and she was PISSED! I told her there was a long line up at the bar and that I was just applying for a job, but for some reason, she didn't seem to buy it. The other time she was angry with me was when I left her at a friend's house for a weekend, but got distracted and didn't return for two weeks. I don't know why she was angry with me! I mean, I left her with a family with kids to play with!

Sometimes, I would take her to my best friend's house. She had a little boy who was half a year older than Marg. They were both around 4-5. My friend and I would do lines of coke at the kitchen table while the kids danced in front of the music station on TV. It was the eighties, what can I say? Sometimes the kids would go into the boy's room where I'm sure they were playing "doctor" or something. How cute. Young kids exploring!

When Margaret was just a little over five years old, I took her to stay for a little while at my mother's house while I took a trip with my then boyfriend to the next province. While there, I got jailed for credit card fraud. I forgot to call my mother to tell her what happened, and by the time I returned, months later, my daughter had been taken away from me and was living with her father in a town hours away.

I was able to keep in touch with her on and off for a couple of years before her new family cut me off for good. When she was 18, she had started looking for me, but I didn't find out until she was 19. After we found each other, we visited a handful of times and I tried to develop a relationship with her, but it was too hard. I stopped talking to her when she was six months pregnant and I have no idea what she's up to these days. I don't know if I will ever try to contact her again, I think it's better to just live my life and not bother her with the details. She turned out just fine, I don't need her to know what a loser I've become.

The story you just read was 100% true, but some details have been changed. Margaret is actually me, and the mother in the story is my mother.

If ONE more person who doesn't know me personally or who isn't a health or child professional tells me that I'm a bad mother, without knowing the full story, I will fuc#ing lose it.

You're right, I'm wrong, I guess it's time to burn me at the stake.

This post goes out to Anonymous #1 and #2 who left comments on this post.

First of all, thank you very much for your concern over my daughter's welfare. It's good to know that complete strangers care about the well being of our children. You both have made me think very hard about what happened in the video, and I've come up with a new mind set on a few things.

I have thought long and hard and have come to a few conclusions:

1) You're absolutely right: It was very dangerous and irresponsible to let my daughter climb up on that small rocking horse and fling herself into a playpen full of blankets. I mean, even with those blankets in there, you can clearly see that this was a VERY dangerous situation. Even though she did it completely on own, with no prompting from me, I really should have stopped her.

2) I'm scrapping my idea of giving Cherry a tricycle for Christmas. It's just too dangerous. She could get hurt. Even with a helmet, it's just not worth the risk.

3) A bicycle for her third birthday is out of the question too. Knee pads? Helmet? Just not good enough. Kids get hurt riding their bikes all the time!

4) Oh, and I'm totally going to forget about taking her to the pool anymore to swim. I mean, I could just turn my back for a second and she could drown!

5) The playground is a total no-no now too. I mean, she's just too fast for me sometimes, and she could fall from the top of the slide and seriously injure herself.

6) Skiing and/or snowboarding at three years old? Nuh uh! WAY too dangerous! This is something that I always thought I'd love to do with my kids, but really, why risk it?

7)Oh, and don't even think that I'm going to let my kids get their licenses when they're 16! Motor Vehicle accidents are just way too common to risk it. In fact, I don't think I can even live with myself if I get into the car with my kids at ALL anymore! I guess we'll just walk everywhere now. Oh crap! Pedestrians get hit by cars too! Good thing the local grocery store delivers, I don't even have to leave the house anymore!

8) And God forbid, if I *do* change my mind and let my kids do any of these activities, I'd better not video tape them! 'Cause really, that's where the true evil in this whole debate lies, right?

Oops, sorry, got to go now. I just HAVE to figure out a way to strap that kid down to the couch in front of the TV so that she can't get into trouble. Oh, wait, watching too much TV causes ADHD, right? I'm screwed!

I have a blog?

Hey guys.

I've been spending the last few days dealing with:

~Running around trying to get the house clean enough to have my grandparents over.

~Cherry with a snotty nose.

~Cherry with a diaper rash so bad she has blisters and cries at every diaper change.

~Cherry waking up crying at 3am until 6am due to above ailments.

~My grandmother coming over to visit even though I called her and asked her to not visit because we were exhausted and feeling horrible.

~Ignoring my grandmother when she says "Well, that's what happens when you're a mother" after I explain to my grandfather about the lack of sleep and horrible-ness that's going on.

~KILLER heartburn I've had for days now.

But good things:

~Friday night we had fun at my friend's birthday party, where there were quite a few other kids that Cherry could play with. We eventually left because *I* was too tired from chasing her around. I believe this is where she got the runny nose from. *Stupid evil kids with germs.. grr*

~Last night my buddy LB came over and we made dinner together and had a nice visit. I don't get to see her as much as I would like.

~I've found a bunch of playgroups and activities I can do with Cherry, but I have to change her nap schedule.

Now, to come: Bathing the poodle, and going through a box of junk that my grandmother brought over that's from some sort of "family friend". oh joy.. more stuff to send to the Sally Anne.

Pregnancy

There are a lot of things to complain about when you're pregnant, but it's not the nausea, the heartburn, the lack of comfortable sleep postions, the constant peeing, the kicks in the bladder and ribs, or the exhaustion that really tick me off...

It's the emotional overdrive. TV is a tearful hell for me. Getting my kid her shots is a blubber fest. Seeing signs on the street for a family pic nic is a total tear jerker.

I can't try on clothes without tearing up, I can't watch trailers for movies that I probably won't ever watch without getting a lump in my throat. You tube videos of kittens falling asleep? I'm a mess.

Please, my dear readers and friends, PLEASE, if I EVER talk about wanting to get pregnant again, PLEASE remind me. I so don't want to be this crazy again!

Apparently I'm STILL a bad mother.

So, I took the kidlet to get her 1 year old immunizations (yes, I know, I'm a little behind schedule), and besides sitting there, holding her arms down while the evil nurse hurt her, I also got some hand outs about child development and such.

Apparently, I'm still a bad mother. Even though I stopped giving my kid a bottle to go to sleep with, I'm still risking rotting the teeth out of my child's head.

Among other "activities (that) will help (me) play (my) part in (my) child's growth and development", these few tell me I'm a bad mother: (As said by my child's point of view?)

1) When I drink 2 cups of pastuerized homo cow's milk daily, you can stop giving me Vitamin D.

2) I need the calcium in milk at meal times and only water between meals and at night to help prevent cavities!

3) If I drink from a bottle, please give me a cup now.

Addressing these issues:

1) Um? Two cups of milk a day? Oh... you mean the four-five cups you're already drinking might be too much? Whoops! And Vitamin D? Was I supposed to be giving you Vitamin D? Oh, I think I might remember something about that... whoops!

2) Just at meal times? Oh, ok, so apparently your teeth are going to rot and fall out of your head because not only do I let you drink your milk between meals, but I also give you juice! *gasp* AND, I make sure you drink a full bottle of milk before bed so that you don't wake up hungry in the middle of the night! (Yes, I'm brushing her teeth afterwards.)

3) Ok, so we've tried this one... And Darlin' you just won't give in! Sippy cups for juice and water, bottles for milk. You've made this abundantly clear to me. I tried again tonight, and you fussed and moaned, and would NOT drink your milk until I put it in a bottle! I'm blaming YOU for this one if your teeth rot!

And there you have it. Every time I see an "expert" about anything, I find out that I'm such a bad mother. They tell you there's no manual on how to raise children, yet I keep on getting told I'm doing it wrong! What's a mother to do?

A Series.

I'm going to start a series of posts. I'm going to talk about things such as how Armondo and I met, the proposal, the wedding, and Cherry's birth story, and possibly something else that might be interesting.

Is there anything YOU want to know?

Also, don't forget about the baby contest (clicky on the sidebar)

And, I don't know if you've noticed but I added a "best of" list on the sidebar too, and if you can think of a favourite post of mine that you think should go on that list, then please, be sure to tell me.

Thanks! See ya soon!

The lead up to A Love Story (Series Part I)

In the Summer of 2002 I was broke. I was 21 years old. I had spent all of my student loan money and barely had enough money to make it through until September. Luckily, I had pre-paid my rent, and I had a credit card. I had started looking for a job that year before I had even finished my semester, but I just couldn't seem to find one. Then, one week, half way through the summer, I had calls for interviews at two different retail places in the same mall. The first interview was at Value Village, which is a for profit second hand store. The position was going to be full time, Monday to Friday, and the money was more than minimum wage. That all sounded great until they told me what I would be doing. It was going to be my job to sort and price the used shoes... Um, YUCK! Being that I desperately needed a job, and they weren't just popping up all over the place like they had in my past, I tried my best to not act completely disgusted at the thought of handling old shoes. I didn't do such a great job. And, because of that, I didn't get the job.

I did, however get the job from the second interview that week, and I started soon after working till at the pharmacy in the mall. I already had experience working at this particular chain of pharmacy, so I was a shoe in for THIS job. (Get it? Shoe in? 'Cause I wasn't a SHOE in for the other job!! Ha ha? No? Ok, moving on..)

But this job sucked. It wasn't as good as the other pharmacy I had worked in. The store was dirty, and hadn't upgraded to the newer, more stylish layout that the other ones had. They still sold cigarettes, whereas most of this chain had stopped. It was at one of the crumiest malls in a town full of malls, and the customers stunk. Literally. To put it bluntly, the mall is in the middle of welfare district.

Let me tell you about the customers. Most of them came into the store to buy cigarettes and lotto tickets. In BC, we have this one lotto game called KENO, which runs every five minutes. The customer would pick their numbers then have 5-10 minutes to wait to see if their numbers won anything. Which, for most customers meant that they had just enough time to go outside and have a cigarette. Or, they could have a coffee at the doughnut shop across the hall. For others, it meant that they stood in front of the till and stared up at the numbers while we tried to work. And they'd make chit chat with us. Glorious chit chat.

There was this one guy. I have no clue what his name is. Let's just call him.. Billy Bob. Billy Bob was probably in his thirties or forties. He had stringy, shoulder length blonde hair and sometimes sported a scruffy beard. His t-shirts were often stained and ripped, and his blue jeans were often cut off into shorts, sometimes with the pockets hanging out beneath the cuts. Sometimes he wore his teeth when he was at the mall. Other times, he forgot them at home, and had a four tooth gap along the top.

He was a bit of a stalkier fellow, not fat at all, and was probably a strong guy, but by no sense of the word, was he attractive. He was one of the customers who played Keno. And smoked. And sometimes chatted with us. And hung out at the doughnut shop too. His average day was spent hanging out at this mall, often for my full eight hour shift.

I didn't always work the till. Sometimes, at slow times, I would face the shelves and stock. One day, while I was facing, Billy Bob came in to play his Keno. I was sort of close to the front of the store, so while he was standing there, I was pretty close to him and we chatted a bit. He asked me what my name was (at the time I knew his) and I sort of looked at him funny and said "I wear a name tag every day, see?" And I pulled it up and away from my chest so he could get a better look. "Corrine?" He said, after taking a hard look at the tag. "Um, no, it's C3lena." I replied. "Oh," he said. "That's a nice name. I don't read too good, so I couldn't quite make that out."

"Poor guy!" I thought to myself. After he left, I looked up the number for the local literacy group and wrote it down to hand to him when he returned.

When he did return, he sort of surprised me by asking me out. "Would you like to go to dinner and a movie with me some time?"

"Um," I stammered. "I actually have a boyfriend, but, thanks!" I lied. (Sort of, I was at the end of this two year on-off thing with a guy). And I noticed that he had forgotten to put his teeth in that day.

He looked a little embarrassed, but he was polite, and I was polite as well, and we carried on with what we were doing.

Later that day, I handed him the number for the literacy group. The other cashiers thought I was crazy, and thought I was just encouraging him. But I had a mission. Regardless of the fact that he was old, and slimey, and toothless, and had the nerve to ask me out on a day when he FORGOT HIS TEETH, he was a nice guy, and he was missing out on a whole world of great books out there!

He refused to take the number, saying that he didn't need to learn how to read, and I was crushed. For about 10 minutes. I still had a plan. The next day, I went to Value Village and bought a Stephen King book with four Novellas in it, and I gave it to him. "Here, I bought this for you. I really got into reading when I was twelve, and this was the author that got me hooked." He took the book from me and in a week had read 40 pages.

In the meantime, my job sucked. My manager was quite the witch. She had a daughter the same age as me, and seemed to think that she could treat me like a kid. Sure, granted, I was still a kid, but I had been working at various jobs for several years, and had been living on my own and paying my own rent for three years at this point. In my mind, I was a complete equal to everyone else in that place who held the same position.

One day, I was in the stock room and had been sorting stuff or doing something or other, when a message came over the intercom from the front counter. One of the cashiers needed a carton of cigarettes, and fast. My hands were full of garbage, and when Witch asked me to take the carton up to the front, I said "Sure, I just have to empty my hands!" and I walked a few steps away to a trash can.

"YOU don't walk away when I'm speaking to you!" She barked.

"I SAID, I'm emptying my hands!" I repeated louder so that she could hear me over the music playing back there.

I turned back to her and took the cigarettes at which time she yelled at me for turning my back to her and giving her attitude.

I was a bit shocked, and I can't really remember what I did at that exact point, but I took the cigarettes and walked them to the front of the store, then hid in the pet supply aisle while I cooled my jets.

After I cooled down a bit, I walked back up to Witch, and said to her: "You know, you don't have to treat me like a child. I realize that you didn't hear me over the loud music when I told you I had to empty my hands, and you took that as attitude, but I can guarantee that there would have been no way that you would have reacted the same way if Mindy or Barb had done the same thing." I started crying as I said this. Out of anger. Out of frustration. It's one of my weakest points. I will cry when I'm trying to be strong, and it just doesn't come across as very professional, which I knew at that point, which made me cry just that little bit more.

Instead of apologizing, Witch instead assured me that yes, she WOULD have treated the other, older cashiers the same way. Which I took as complete bull $hit. I quit that day. I gave my two week notice and started looking for another job.

Billy Bob probably didn't read any more after I left, but you can only help a person so much before you have to let them help themselves.

More to come...

Hallowe'en Sneak Peak: Flying Poodle Baby!

Click here to watch a super funny, cute and shocking video of my kid being a dare devil in her Hallowe'en costume!


And just so you all know, 'cause you've shown concern: This was the second time she had attempted this, the first time I was too far away to grab her, and she landed just fine. This one time was the only time she landed funny, and she's totally fine. She has since tried this act another half dozen times or so, and LOVES it!

Linky!

Go check out Mr. Fab today, as he kisses Canadian A$$.

Gross, Icky, no good, BLAH!

Yuck yuck yuck.

Dog poo on floor.

+

Mother not noticing

+

Child noticing

=

Gross, disgusting mess, on child's hands and face.


After cleaning up, washing said child's hands and face, going out for a bit and coming home....

Child picks up spoon that mother didn't notice before.

Said spoon is covered in dog poo.

Must vomit now.

Autumn... sort of like Spring, but not really.

Oh, I love days like today! The air is crisp, the leaves are turning, the world smells clean after a nice rainfall. It was the perfect day for gardening! So I attempted to plant some tulip bulbs. Actually, I DID plant some, but after I'd planted them, I realized that the garden I was planting them in probably wasn't even going to exist in the spring, so then I un-planted them all. (The garden surrounds our huge, rotten maple tree that we're probably going to take down in the spring.) Ha ha. Oh well, another day I'll get them into the ground.

It's Monday today, which means it's my "Big Clean" day. Monday's are the day that I wash all the sheets and vacuum the floors. In reality, I should vacuum more often, but that SO is not going to happen any time soon.

Monday is also the day that I catch up on any other cleaning I may have been getting behind in. There's no excuse not to clean the kitchen and bathroom on a Monday.

And today, I tried to do a little extra too. I cleaned my front closet! That closet has been so messy and overrun with junk for so long that I just finally had to do something! I got four shallow boxes and put them on the top shelf and labeled them "Toques and Hats", "Scarves and Safety", (Safety meaning reflective stuff for walking in the dark), "Leashes and Harnesses" (for the dogs) and "Gloves and Mitts". The four boxes fit perfectly on the shelf (with no pre-measuring or planning), and just look so neat and tidy!

Now, I have approximately 2 and a half hours before the season premiere of CSI:Miami to go and find some other tidying task!

Where'd my Baby Go?

It seems like it wasn't too long ago that I had a sweet little baby girl.... What happened?

My little baby girl has turned into a complete terror!

Maybe it's been slow process and I haven't noticed, or maybe it just started yesterday.

Yesterday, when we went to the Teddy Bear Pic Nic, I realized my kid is a bully. She stole everyone else's teddy bears and made the kids cry.

I also realized she's much more active than other children her age. And much more of a daredevil. She was running circles around the other kids and had no problem sliding down slides that the three year olds were too scared to go down without their parents.

All the other kids sat nicely at pic nic tables or on blankets for lunch, but not my kid. She had to be strapped in her stroller so that she'd stay in one place.

And in the past 48 hours, she's learned two new tricks.
Yesterday, she learned how to climb into her high chair on her own (picture taken today). This is a pretty good trick, 'cause she tells me when she's hungry.

Her second trick isn't so great. She has learned how to climb on the dining table. And besides the obvious reasons as to why this is a bad thing, it's also not so good because I no longer can put non-child friendly stuff on the table! Here she's getting into a bunch of stuff she shouldn't be!

Last night I went to bed pretty late, 'cause I spent some time sorting paperwork. Staying up late combined with the exhaustion due to pregnancy is not a good mixture. This morning I felt less than chipper, so I tried to lay on Cherry's bed while she played in her room. This usually works out fine for me, but the kid had no intention of letting me sleep. She threw books at me, stole the blanket over and over, and finally resorted to screaming to get me to get up.

After nap time, I was still over tired, and tried the same trick again. This time while I was on her bed, she decided that pulling my hair and hitting me in the eye with her new toy was the way to get me up. I cannot be certain that she meant to hurt me, but I have my suspicions. Call me a jerk, or evil or whatever, but after she pulled my hair, I pulled hers back. I didn't do it overly hard, and I didn't do it out of anger, but I figured that she needed to know how it felt. Once I knew she got the message, I gave her a hug and got up and off her bed. We then officially started the day with a non-eventful trip to the grocery store.

Starting this next week, I think we need to go to a play group. I need to make some friends, and this kid needs to see how other kids behave. Maybe she'll watch the other kids and calm down a bit, or maybe she'll be the ring leader and train a whole group of thugs.

Is it possible that the terrible two's can start at 14 months?

Oh, and seconds before I was about to hit the "publish post" button. The kid learned how to climb onto my desk. Oh, geez, what freakin' fun!

Today's the Day, the Teddy Bears Had their Pic Nic!

Click this!

Relief.

The second mortgage finally went through today. Today, I held in my hand a cheque for over $28000 dollars.

Then I gave up a post dated cheque to pay off my car.

Next step: Pay off the credit card,

Then: Pay off the majority of my student loan.

And then, with the monthly payment savings, I should be able to pay off the rest of my student loan in a few months!

Finally, something is going right!

In other news: Cherry gets to go to a "Teddy Bear's Picnic" Birthday party tomorrow! How fun is that!?!

Kids are great.

Know what's Awesome!?!?

Diaper creme in your hairbrush.

Totally, freekin' awesome.