I have to make this quick because there is leftover cake to be eaten along with some leftover wine. But the reason A. and I are doing this in relative peace tonight is because today’s resolution was to get Budsie into his own room. And he’s there right now. Sleeping away. So weird. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Update on previous resolutions: Vegetable tracker is going well but the results are kind of sad. Sitting is going super duper well. Oh and I unplugged the monitor today! But only once and only for a little bit. Baby steps.

Alright, so here’s what’s been happening.

On Tuesday, I just plum forgot to post. The resolution for that day was, oddly enough, inspired by Alicia Silverstone. While perusing an old Vogue, I noticed a link to Silverstone’s blog ‘The Kind Life‘. I’ve always been a big fan of Silverstone. When I was 15 it was because she was soooooo pretty and I wanted her hair. And her Clueless wardrobe, which at the time I was certain would make me cool. It wouldn’t have. Anyway, while I’m still super jealous of Silverstone’s hair (and mouth for that matter…oh to not be thin lipped), I’m more into her sustainable lifestyle. And her blog is full of nifty tips on how to save money and energy, eat well and friendly, and just live an all around kick ass green life. Woot! In the vein of saving energy and money, I decided to try her tip of unplugging everything that doesn’t need to be plugged in when it’s not being used. I have been moderately successful thus far but I have to admit to one exception beyond the fridge and stove: the baby monitor base. While I adore my baby monitor, I hate hate hate one feature on it. Every single time you turn the base on, it sings a little lullaby. Cute right? No. I can’t for the life of me figure out how to stop it and nothing, NOTHING is worse than finally getting a kid who refuses to nap off to sleep only to realize that you have forgotten to plug in the base and then having that goddamn lullaby play. Kid is up, and Mummy screams ‘ CURSE YOU V-TECH’. Of course, I could just make it part of my routine to plug the monitor base in before I try to put the kid to sleep. And maybe some magical day, I will do that. But that day is not today. And it wasn’t Tuesday either. So moderate success on May 24th’s ezmy goes unplugged resolution.

On Wednesday, we suddenly realized that we didn’t have any money. Ok not suddenly. We’ve never had money per se, but on Wednesday we realized that we were losing control of what little we had. Somewhere between getting married and blending our finances, and me not getting maternity benefits (*shakes fist*), our budget got all confused. Big sigh as Ezmy starts to feel financially and mentally unglued. Student loan debt looms large as does the never-ending string of monthly bills, birthdays, weddings etc. Worse, the freelance gigs are drying up since all the students went on vacation. Gah! Clearly, it was time for a complete over-haul of our financial plan. Wine needs to be purchased afterall and I don’t want to live in a world where we can’t afford good coffee and the odd piece of cake. So resolution for the 25th – create a budget and stick to it. After seven hours of hauling out all of our bills, income slips, and receipts that we thankfully had the good sense to save over the last 6 months, I finally devised a plan that can work for us. And it turns out Scotiabank is right – we are richer than we thought. Not much, but I didn’t get too troubled over the purchase of my pricey Kicking Horse coffee this week. Financially saavy Ezmy? Check!

Which brings us to today. Awesome Thursday, for which I am making an awesome vegan chocolate layer cake as I type. And sipping some inexpensive wine that was paid for by the incredibly kick ass discovery of a hidden wedding savings account. Past Ezmy, you sly gal you. Anyway, the resolution for today was to seriously sit down and figure out how to get home. ‘Home’ being Parksville-Qualicum Beach, BC, where I grew up and where my little brother still lives. As I’ve mentioned before, I never see IL and in a few months he and his wife will have a baby and I really want to be there to meet said kidlet. I’ve missed every major event in my brother’s life due to money shortages and pregnancy – I’m not missing this. Plus I haven’t been back home in years. Eight years in fact. I haven’t been back for any number of reasons, but I admit the major one is that I have very few fond memories associated with the place. Oh don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my time with the Hillsdens and with a few other band friends and such. But overall, highschool was a total nightmare for me, salvaged only by the ridiculous amount of pot that I smoked. As soon as it ended, I got the hell out of Dodge. After going back a handful of times and hating every minute of it, I swore at 23 that I would never return. But something has changed in the last couple of years, and it isn’t just IL moving back there. I can’t put my finger on it but I really want to go back and see people. I miss the people and the town and all sorts of things. Ah what the passage of time does to pain, eh?

Update: Seat sale! I just booked the ticket. See you in November, P-QB! I’m getting a little excited…

I have been keeping up with resolutions, but the one I’m working on is taking a lot out of me. Not to worry, I shall return tomorrow. Preview: the 24th left me unplugged, and today left me unglued. Hmpf.

In other news, I’m sipping my first scotch and soda and sort of enjoying it. The lengths I go to in order to clean out that cupboard, eh? Sacrifice…it’s all about sacrifice, people.

In further news, I’m re-starting the vegetable consumption resolution tomorrow. What I was thinking when I decided to start that resolution right before a Women of Wallace reunion, I’ll never know.

Right, back to it then. Until tomorrow…

Q: Why did Ezmy fall behind on posting this past long weekend?

a) The proposed May 21 rapture did in fact occur (haha, Camping!) and you’re all still here. Turns out, God was more interested in rapturing up the atheists and a handful of agnostics. Quite the sense of humour, that God.

b) She went through some sort of existential crisis following the abysmal failure of the proposed May 21 rapture, during which she was suddenly overcome by a menacing sense of her own mortality.

c) An oh so fabulous Women of Wallace Reunion took place over the weekend, one that featured delicious beverages, a rapping red-shirt man dancing for love, multiple patios, tulips, spiffy new duds, and a thrilling game of 80’s Trivial Pursuit.

d) Both b) and c)

e) None of the above. She just didn’t wanna.

(answer at the end of the post)

I did have a post all written up for May 20, but I forgot to post it and then when I read over it just now, I realized that it sucked. Huh. So now you’re stuck with this massive post. Perhaps it’s best to just provide a summary of the resolutions made and successfully completed (well, for the most part):

*Resolution for May 20: Let the kid eat dirt. On a scale of 1-10, 1 being sterilizing the kid’s mouth every 30 seconds and 10 being allowing the kid to eat anything except perhaps poison, I’d say I’m an 8. Exchanging sippy cups and soothers and slobber-drenched toys? No problem. Floor crud? Well, if it’s recent floor crud but anything older than a day and I try to stop it because when I don’t, I get looks from Budsie that suggest I’m a terrible mother for putting week old Cheerios on the floor. Dirt? Here, I just don’t know. My first instinct is to stop him because I know it’s going to taste uber gross. But then I think to myself, this is a kid who eats peas and drinks formula, which in my opinion tastes like sucking on pennies. Of course the other reason I instinctively try to stop him eating dirt is that I don’t know what’s in that dirt. Glass? Possible. Urine? Most likely. Sigh. I can feel The Judgey Mother Voice, the tiny one who resides in the back of my head, whispering things like ‘bet your kid is going to get Hepatitis Z from that dirt eating’ or ‘none of the other kids are eating dirt, what’s wrong with yours?’, which is ridiculous because almost everyone’s kids eat dirt at some point and mine just happens to be at that dirt eating age. Man, who needs other mothers judging me when I have this bitch in my head doing a bang up job all by herself? Yeesh. Anyway, I’m gonna let the kid eat dirt if he pleases and try to worry less about that kind of thing.

*Resolution for May 21: Make dinner at home, even when the ladies are in town. This resolution falls under the “Ezmy and A. are a wee bit cash poor these days” category. Generally speaking, when the Women of Wallace are in town for a reunion, I make a few nibblies but we end up going out a fair bit for drinks and dinners and whatnot. And I have to admit that while I was super duper wuper excited leading up to this long weekend, I was also a wee bit (read: very) nervous about the inevitable money I was going to spend. So I decided that I would make all of the dinners. Even if I was tired after a long day of shopping or whatever. Because it’s worth a bit of extra cooking to not feel guilty at the end of what would otherwise be a fantastic weekend. Success? Yes! Homemade pizza on the Friday, vegetarian stew with avocado and goat cheese salad on the Saturday, and (thanks to the ladies) cheese tortellini with raddichio and peach salad on the Sunday. Tasty good times at home with the gals. *beams*

*Resolution for May 22: Buy shorts with my gift certificates from xmas. Even though I look stupid in them. I’m a big fan of wearing skirts all year round because  I love love love funky lace tights. And I’m not a big fan of my thighs (I have maps of spider veins that would make an 80 year old woman do a double take) and skirts tend to hide them better. Plus there’s something about wearing a skirt that just brightens up an otherwise dull afternoon. But I only have two skirts that are really park appropriate and I sense that I will be spending quite a bit of time in parks this summer. That, and every bloody summer I curse myself for not having just one pair of shorts that I can throw on for a quick walk to the store or for windy days that make skirt wearing a potentially scandalous business. So when the Women of Wallace and I decided to go shopping on Sunday, I made a mental resolution to buy shorts. And I did! Two pair. Watch out, Ottawa! Ezmy’s pale and veiny legs will be flashed at you quite regularly this summer. Best to wear shades if you see her coming your way…

*Resolution for May 23: Learn to nap. I did not succeed on this one. Budsie decided to party all night long on Sunday night, leaving me looking like a washed up goat on Monday morning. Ugh. But even after the ladies went back to Montreal (boo!) and A. took the kidlet and I went downstairs and wrapped myself in cool sheets with the window slightly open, I still couldn’t do it. I have never been a good napper. And so many people said this would change when I had kids. Well it hasn’t. Sigh. Ah well, he slept ok last night and I feel less zombie-like this morning. Can’t win ’em all.

Phew. I have one for today that I’m working on as I type. Will post this evening.  But right now the kid is stirring and I need to grab the hopefully tasty cherry/blueberry/peach cobbler out of the oven for an upcoming Mr. T. and Ms. FM playdate. Busy busy busy!

—

A: c)

So I have these Kamut Puffs:

I bought them for Budsie because rice cakes are pricey and these let him practice pinching (a skill I regret teaching him because now he pinches me…sigh). He was a super huge fan for the first 1/3 of the bag and then decided that Kamut was not for him. So I ate another third or so before I decided that Kamut was not for me either, especially when it’s going sort of stale. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a bag of used-to-be- perfectly good Kamut Puffs go to waste. What to do…

Kamut Puffs, meet your new friends flour and sugar et al. Surely, I thought to myself, I can bake these into something spectacular thus ridding my cupboard of semi-stale Kamut Puffs and providing tasty nibblies for my playdate with Mr. T and Ms. FM. So once Budsie was down for a nap, I popped on some old school Shania Twain (you read that correctly) and set to work making doughy cereal stuffed doughnut holes.

Result:

Scrumptious! And a hit with Ms. FM. What have we learned? Old grains can do anything. Including inspire today’s resolution: try to get super creative and use all of those things we can’t seem to get rid of. Bake them into something or turn them into casserole toppings or what have you. This will obviously take longer than today – I’ve got some tricky items in that pantry. One lonely tin of coconut juice, for example. A bag of kidney beans that I’m convinced is refilling itself. Very old egg noodles (those should probably just go…). And don’t even get me started on the box of Heinz Nutri-Os, which the kid ate a handful of before realizing that they weren’t real Cheerios and then looked at me like I’d traded him for nylons and cigarettes. Lady Heather suggested that I stick the Nutri-Os in burgers – not a bad idea. It’s either that or some sort of crunchy topping on something. Nutri-O casserole? Nutri-O onion soup? Nutri-O glazed donuts? Hmmm.

Update on previous resolutions: the book reading is going well. However I must admit I’ve been avoiding ‘Great Expectations’. I was going to start it a couple of nights ago but my hand drifted over it to a copy of Lewis Carroll’s ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and well, it’s on the list too so…yeah. A twisted and fantastic read. Having finished it, I could go ahead and pick up ‘Great Expectations’ tonight but…well, I haven’t read George Eliot’s ‘Middlemarch’ and it seems much more interesting. Poor Charles Dickens. I thoroughly enjoyed ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ and ‘A Christmas Carol’ but one really has to be in the mood for gloom to read Dickens. And I am simply not in that mood at present.

Despite what this blog might imply, I am a relatively healthy eater. When I went through my Healthy Ezmy phase back in 2008/2009, much of the lifestyle did in fact stick. I’m a big believer in croissants for breakfast, but I enjoy a pile of fruit with said croissant. I like pizza but with 2 cups of vegetables. You get the idea.

Still, lately I’ve been wondering if my vegetable intake is really what I think it is. When it was just me and no kid, I was better able to focus on what I was consuming but somehow with kid, I can’t remember where I’ve put my plate let alone what I’ve eaten off of it. I do know this: I eat a lot of broccoli stems because the kid doesn’t eat them and waste not want not, right? But I also eat a lot of snacks and picky things and I’m not really sure that this is amounting to a beneficial vegetable and fruit intake.

Inspired yet again by Ms VonDoom, I’ve decided that today’s resolution will actually last one week: track vegetable intake and see if really consuming enough each day. Bad start today – I forgot to write things down. But tomorrow I’ll write it all down and we’ll see where we’re at next week….

In other news, the kid can now get himself into downward facing dog position. He’s been watching me do yoga each morning and I guess something is sticking. Woot! He can also put things in things. Example situation:

Budsie: “Hi!” *drops block in tipped over fridge*

Me: “Well done, Mr. Bumpkin! Way to get it in there!”

A.: “That’s what she said.”

I love my husband.

New mothers are always so ambitious.

Back when I was pregnant with Budsie, I started writing him a Dear Fetus Book. Well that’s what I called it – other people call it a ‘Love Journal’ or ‘Notes to My Angel’ but other people are obviously lame-os. Anyway, I wrote letters to Budsie telling him about how things were going, what kind of food I was into, what we were thinking of naming him when we didn’t know he was a he, how much he made me vomit, etc. I pasted in notes from the midwife and the ultrasound photos and seasonal stickers. I often wrote to him at 3am while I was eating my late night green apple (to be followed by a handful or four of late night jelly beans). I enjoyed thinking about him someday reading it – or much more likely, his girlfriend/wife/whatever someday reading it and smiling. I liked the idea of letting him know how miserable and yet interesting pregnancy was, and how excited we were to be having him.

Given my enthusiasm for the Dear Fetus Book, you would think that Budsie’s baby book would be bursting with details and milestones and whatnot. First smiles and first rolls and first coughs and first vomits and first ‘big boy’ diapers all recorded neatly in the little columns provided.

Um.

Well, his birthday is in there. And his birth weight. And, um, I think I traced his hands when he was four weeks old. Oh and I pasted in his little ‘baby’s first week home’ sheet, which gives a detailed record of how much he pooed himself in the first seven days. But in a book with 68 pages to fill out, I’ve covered maybe 4. Hmmm.

It’s not that I think that having a baby book is super duper important for Budsie. I really don’t think he’ll care. In fact, he’ll probably curse the damn thing everytime he has to find somewhere to pack it when he’s gallavanting about the world (I picture him gallavanting about somehow). But I want the record for me because I have a terrible memory and I need to be prompted. I want to remember the time when he got his first tooth (or teeth in his case) and I want to remember the first time he boogied across the floor like a chubby little crab. So the resolution for today: fill out and continue to fill out the damn baby book. Keep it near me at all times if I must. I want records!

I’ve never been much of a complainer. Well, that’s not true. I complain all – the – time. But not to supervisors or managers or what have you. If I have a bad customer service experience, for example, I don’t call to complain about it. I mean I’d have to be REALLY mad to go to the trouble. And I’ve never been that mad (or if I have, that anger has been outweighed by my laziness and pure hatred for the telephone).

OC Transpo, the transit system in O-town, manages to provide me with plenty of opportunities to call in a complaint. I haven’t done it yet, but I’ve been crazy tempted. Like the time a bus driver told an elderly lady that she had to exit at the rear with the rest of the passengers because it was morning rush hour. Or the many times the bus drivers drive like maniacs and cause elderly people, women with strollers, etc. to go flying into one another. Or the many times that buses have simply not shown up for the scheduled stop time. So many times I could have called to complain.

Today I was once again given a reason to call OC Transpo about a bus driver. But instead of wanting to complain about said driver, I wanted to call somewhere to tell someone, anyone, about how awesome he was. First, he didn’t worry himself over my transfer, which I had managed to get stuck between the diaper bag and the rain cover and which was therefore impossible to read. Second, he was nice and waited until I had the stroller breaks on before tearing down the road. Third, he didn’t tear down the road. Fourth, he pulled over because he saw a kid who was walking alone in the rain – the kid was maybe nine and really shouldn’t have been out by himself on a bridge in the rain. This bus driver asked the kid where he was going and offered to drop him off closer to his destination. Sixth, he said a cheery “Have a nice night, buddy!” to Budsie as we left the bus. All in all, an excellent bus driver. The kind of bus driver I thought all bus drivers were like back when I was little and oh so desperate to ride the bus to school (the novelty wore off of that pretty damn quick, let me tell you).

It’s so rare that we get a chance to call in good things. Plus I don’t think people call about good things often enough – we’re usually only driven to call when someone has pissed us off. So that’s today’s resolution: call OC Transpo’s customer service line and let them know they have one awesome bus driver working for them. And try to remember to call or let a manager know whenever someone is nice to me.

A short while back, convinced that the stuff in our storage closet was reproducing, I resolved to clean out the storage babies and donate the clutter to someone who might find it useful. And I did start this process but things managed to pile up again, confirming my suspicions that the stuff in storage has reproductive capabilities similar to rats or rabbits. It’s taken A. and I until this weekend to really make a dent in the madness and it’s going to be another few days until we finish. But we’re close and I’ll be oh so happy when it’s done.

As part of this de-clutter the storage closet effort, I brought a bunch of the junk boxes upstairs to our dining area and saw one marked ‘Manuals’. It was bursting at the seams. This is unsurprising – I’m desperately afraid of throwing out manuals. I don’t know what I think is going to change about the item in question. I mean, what new features can I possibly discover on our iron? Or what new moves can our blender perform that I haven’t already figured out? And it’s not like there is a ton of troubleshooting that can be done if, say, the toaster stops working. My toaster manual isn’t going to tell me to reboot the toaster or try some jazzy new way of pushing down the toast in order to get it to work.

Today’s simple resolution: sort through manuals, how-to guides, start-up CDs, warranty slips and the like and recycle the ones we just don’t need. One of the CDs we pulled out didn’t appear to do anything so we’ve tossed it. Of course you know what will happen – two years from now I’ll be blogging about the fact that we can’t get our fridge to work and we’re missing the start-up disc or something and someone will reference this post and I’ll curse loudly. It’s risky business, this resolution. But it must be done – surely we do not need an entire apple box full of manuals.

Update on previous resolutions: magazine resolution? Resounding success. Only the Vogues and the most recent Shape remain. And I’m going to stop buying Shape. I only get it for the success stories and apparently those are online! Excellent.

Update on manual situation: the manual box has been reduced to a shoe box. Hoorah! Only start-up discs and a couple of important manuals – for the TV that I still haven’t figured out how to work in full and for the computer-y stuff because of the troubleshooting tips that I likely won’t try before screaming at the computer-y item in question and tossing it out a window.

First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my darling sister, Lady Heather. Many happy returns. You’re the bestest.

In my ongoing search for the cell phone charger, I re-discovered my magazine stash under a pile of cloth diapers and receiving blankets. I keep old magazines for various reasons. I often use the pictures to decorate presents and parcels and letters to friends and family. And I enjoy re-reading articles about celebrities. And I love love love cutting out pictures of crazy cool jewelry and boots that I’ll never own but can admire in my fashion/decoration oriented scrapbook. But as I was going through the stack (ok, stacks) of old fashion mag. fun, I started wondering to myself if I was really going to re-read that article about Kiera Knightley from 2007 or if I really ever used pictures from the dozen or so Shape magazines I own to wrap things (Shape is terrible for pictures). Hmmm, maybe it’s time for a cull.

Today’s resolution then: get rid of old magazines. Now technically, this resolution should also include Vogues. But it damn well won’t. I love my Vogues and they are going nowhere. I realize that eventually I will have to get rid of some. I mean, if I keep going this way I will need a room for them and that’s just sad (or is it? Yes, Ezmy, it is. It is.). But not today. Baby steps – the Elles are going to be painful enough.

Update on previous resolutions: the trim is painted (woot!) and the red faux leather number performed beautifully. She can even hold a small novel  (The Great Gatsby – best one I’ve covered on the booklist so far), something that the sleek black purse can’t do. So she stays. Well done, red faux leather clutch. Well done.

Update number two: cell phone charger found!! Excellent.