What was I thinking? What was I THINKING?

Around 12am yesterday, I hear a scream. The usual: “Ma-MAHHHH”! (Honestly? You have to hear this scream. It is hilarious. I’ve thought about recording it for you, but I don’t need all the trolls coming out and saying how bad a mother I am  for letting my baby cry for the sake of THE BLAWG. But, I remind you, he’s not a baby. He’s a TODDLER. And he’s a RASCALLY toddler. The kid’s a master manipulator. He’d do very well in politics.)

I go upstairs (because, of course, I’m hard at work still at 12am. And, apparently, most of this post is going to be in parentheses, but, as you’ll see, I’m tired. VERY TIRED). Rascal’s standing in his crib, red-faced, tear-drenched, stomping his li’l feet and looking at me accusingly (how dare I just stand there?).

And so (the beginning of the end) I pick him up out of his crib. Immediately, he starts squirming himself free and runs — pitter patter pitter patter — to the gate at the top of the stairs, pointing, POINTING and pointing to the stairs.

“No, Rascal,” I say, “It’s bedtime.”

Figuring my work is doneth…, I pick Rascal up and take him into my room. I PUT HIM ON MY BED, figuring he’ll sleep with me. Josh is out of town, and it’s thundering and lightening outside — this could be CO-ZY, right?

No.

Not cozy. Terrible. And Horrible. Terribly horrible. Demanding little bugger (shut it, Trolls) kept pointing at the TV and then the flipper (converter? flicker?). He won’t sit still. I give in and turn on the TV for five minutes, and it’s all downhill from there….

Gorgeouses, he spent the entire night ON TOP OF ME. I couldn’t MOVE. And, not only was I claustrophobic under this 22-pound bundle of cuteness and CRAZAY, but I had NO SPACE. I was half off the bed. To make matters worse….

Pitter patter pitter patter — THE MONKEY hopped into bed with us.

What a mess. I didn’t sleep at all last night. Not a wink. Well, maybe a wink. But every time my eyes started closing (you know, to wink), he’d, like, slam me, or slam the monkey. And by slam, I mean SLAM: he stands up, and then, KABOOM, slams himself on you. It’s his favourite thing. Grrrr….

Even so…, I kicked my hot ass: I went to kickboxing class tonight. And, luckily, the hot instructor took it easy on us and let us sit and watch HIS HOT ASS for parts of the class. I had to work HARD not to drool, had to work HARD to de-contort my face out of its pathetic expression of LO-HON-GING. (I’m pretty sure that de-contorting burns calories…, no?) He’s probably 25 years old, or less, so, like Clive Owen, Brad Pitt and Will Ferrell, he’s safe for me to drool over. Ooo, and he has a thick Romanian accent, always telling us we’re doing “velly good, velly good.” LOOOOOVE.

Okay, to bed. At last. Rascal IN HIS CRIB. It would be great to snuggle with him all night. Him and his uncannily bright blond little head. But, alas, NO FREAKING WAY.

Good night, Gorgeouses!

Love!

xo Haley-O

I am sick as a dog. If you’re following me on Twitter, this is old news. I’ve been sick as a dawg for, like, 4 days already. This CAN’T be The Swine. It’s just a BAD (i.e., B.A.D.) head cold, complete with fevers and pains everywhere — worst of all in my jaw, making it excruciating for me to hold my mouth open just to BREATHE.

I probably SHOULDN’T have gone to the Bunch Family Dance Party on Saturday — to celebrate the launch of Canada Moms Blog. By the way, have you seen my latest post there yet — where I get very close to controversy again, but tread MUCH more carefully this time, so help me GOD. We all know I don’t DO criticism, so why DARE I invite it?? MIND YOU, I was just listening to THE Erica Ehm on my favourite radio station this morning, and SHE said that if everyone loves you, you’re boring. That made me feel better…. And, by the way, and speaking of which…, did you hear the Canadian Olympic team REFUSED to wear seal fur on their uniforms (after Canadian parliamentarians proposed it) to protest the European Parliament’s ban on Canadian seal-fur products? HOLLAHHH! And, here’s a cute video with typical great Canadian humour LAUGHING at the proposition that the team wear fur and demonstrating that most of us Canadians (over 60%), in fact, do oppose the hunt…. I care. I really really really freakin’ care about this….

And, by the way, how do I get my little Rascal to stop HITTING everyone. Feeling as carpy as I do right now, the LAST thing I need is all this HITTING me in the achy head with a metal toy school bus. ARRGH.

AND, by the way, I now have 2 cats on my lap…. Here’s Meeno (aka Minden, of course)….

MWAH!

ANYWAY! Happy Mother’s Day to all the MOMS out there — including moms of pets (this is your day, too, Gorgeouses!). I spent the day in bed, freezing and then sweating and then freezing and then sweating. It was awesome.

This post is all over the place. I’m too sick to write coherently. Hopefully, I’ll be better tomorrow. So, we’re just chatting today, right? This is aiight, right?

So, as I started saying earlier…. It’s kind of exciting! I actually went to a blogger event this weekend to celebrate the Canada Moms Blog official launch! Now, I SHOULDN’T have been there with this DREADFUL cold. But, I KNEW if I didn’t show up, everyone would think I copped out — because who can REALLY tell if your sick from behind your computer screen. I NEVER go to blog events (because I sort-of made this deal with myself early on that I’d stay behind the screen), so I KNEW that if I didn’t go, they’d all think I wimped out and wasn’t committed. But, AM COMMITTED. LOOK HOW COMMITTED. I went to the event SHVITZING with fever!

Again, don’t worry, it’s not The Swine…. (Although I cannot IMAGINE being any sicker than this…!)

So, the party was well worth going to — even sick as a DAWG. (Bunch sure knows how to throw a PAR-TAY!) I hung out with some of my favourite bloggers! SWEET Katie ~ Motherbumper, the one-and-only Her Bad Mother Catherine Connors, Sandra from Mamalooper, Emma Willer from (I love this…) Where there’s a Willer…, and, last but NOT LEAST, my good ol’ friend Ali, of Cheaper Than Therapy whom I haven’t seen in MONTHS (because I am a BAD FRIEND, BAD!).

I really didn’t get enough pictures. Mostly because Rascal was clinging to me FOR DEAR LIFE for the first hour and a half of the party. After that, he warmed up and started running to the middle of the dance floor and, erm, dancing!! It was so adorable. I was so proud….

I also didn’t get enough pictures because it was just too much work for my sick self to keep digging my camera out of my bottomless purse…. It was also too much work for my sick self to say NO to Monkey getting a cotton candy — which, I (and my strong opinions!) think has to be the grossest excuse for candy ever invented….

You know you’re sick when…you let your daughter eat COTTON CANDY. Ew. I managed to steer the Rascal away from it with COOKIE….

Best of all, I think, has to be the picture Monkey drew at the party. I HAVE to share it….

Yeah, Happy Mother’s Day to ME. I’m the big POTATO in the middle of the picture. Rascal is the hilarious sad thing on the left (seriously? how funny is that?), and Josh is on the right…. Just when I was feeling SLIMMER (after a 5-pound weight loss, courtesy of being SICK AS DAWG), Monkey draws me LIKE THAT? A big fat potato. Oh man….

Okay. BACK TO BED.

Happy Mother’s Day, Gorgeouses!

Love!

xo Haley-O

If you haven’t already, go check CHEATY GOODIES for our EMERGENCY PREPAREDNESS contest. Only Canadians are eligible for this one, but (again) the post and video will make everyone think.

So, yesterday I had the busiest day in the history of busy days. From teaching yoga FIRST THING in the morning, as I do EVERY SUNDAY (dammit — see how YOGIC I am!$@#!%$#!ohhhm), to driving all the way out to nowheresville to pick up the Rascal, to driving all the way out to nowheresville THE OTHER WAY, to go to my friend J-Lyn’s pottery show (BRILLERS, by the way), to going to the toy store to buy a birthday present, to dragging the Rascal out of the toy store by BRIBING him with a toy bus (that we totally didn’t need — even though INVENTORY, MY ARSE — more on that later, trust me, grrrr…), to taking Rascal and the gift we bought, and the toy bus, to a birthday party….

And we all know how much I love — LOATHE — the birthday parties. I loathe them so much I can’t say we’ll be doing one for the Monkey this year. How can I put my friends through it if I LOATHE them myself. I mean, Monkey’s still young enough not to care. Can’t we just have a party with family and the little cousins, and then do a little trip to the country or something? SHUCKS, we could take a frickin’ trip to HAWAII for the same price as a birthday party but without the stress! I mean, why NOT!? If the cast of The Hills can do it at a moment’s notice, so can I, right? Even though I will never again look as good as they do in those bikinis….DAMMIT HATE! Anyway, we’ll see. I just don’t think the Monkey will notice if we have a big to-do with all her friends (from school? from camp? it’s a July birthday…), or a big to-do with just the family….

So, yes, I loathe the birthday parties (except for the CAAAKE – because it’s usually super sugary and vegan because of kids’ allergies — and, OH MY with all the digressions today! must be the caffeine and sugar in that dang Starbucks chai latte I just imbibed; blogging in the morning post-chai just may not do….DIGRESSSS!), and yesterday was painfully busy. I’m lazy by nature. I like mine arse ON MY COUCH.

Anyway, the one thing that REALLY helped me get through the day yesterday was…my brother. Uncle M took Monkey to her first baseball game! So, praise brother, I schlepped all over the city with ONE child, and not TWO. What was especially amazing was that SHE HAD A GREAT DAY and I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT…. He bought her a girlie Toronto Blue-Jays hat, and she got a free Blue Jays T-shirt!

Like, how sweet is THAT? I really must take advantage of ALL MY FAMILY more regularly. He had fun. She had fun. And I got a BIG break. HUGE.

After that huge long day, by the way, we went to Anon’s for dinner — to celebrate his return from the hospital! I’m telling you, what we went through could have been an episode of House with all the doctors gathering ’round and meeting about the unidentifiable ORGANISM. Well, they figured it all out, and all is well. THANK GOD.

By the way? My parents’ dog Quincey says HI….

This is actually a really carpy picture of him because he’s all about the ears; so, here’s another carpy picture showcasing his fabbest feature….

Ooo! I hope my parents don’t mind I didn’t star out his face or give him a blog alias. They’re really intense about the privacy thing (now you know where I get it from…is totally genetic). Oh well.

So, here’s the inventory issue I wanted to talk about for a minute. There’s a certain person on the internet who seems nice enough, but decided to criticize my parenting on her website. It’s not anything serious, but it was still criticism, and I DID NOT LIKE IT. I’m not posting a link to her post because I don’t want to reward her with traffic. Basically, she said that THIS POST…

made me feel better about myself, lol. One of the biggest challenges that we face in parenthood is inventory. I deal with inventory all day with my job and bottomline is this kid has too much of it! Every birthday, every holiday, you’ve got to deplete the inventory!

So, apparently, my kid — “this kid” — has too much “inventory.” Pahlease. It’s called STORAGE. “This kid” does not have enough STORAGE. And it’s called FIRST GRANDCHILD and it’s called ONLY GRANDDAUGHTER and FIRST CHILD and PRE-RECESSION and FORMS BIZARRE ATTACHMENTS. You try taking any one of those toys away from “this kid”: it’s called TRAUMATIC and CHAOS and HAVOC….

Anyway, I don’t think the self-titled “diva” of parenting meant anything nasty by it, really. But, moms need to stick together. I don’t blog here to be criticized (even though that’s going to be inevitable, I know). I blog here to share and document and entertain. Sure, Monkey has a lo-ho-hot of stuff. But, I AM perfectly capable of “depleting the inventory.” I just — personally? — care not to.

Someone fell asleep on the way home from yoga…. WHILE he was eating his snack….

Oy! Anyway, I got a JOB, Gorgeouses! I’m a working girl. I mean, I’ve always been a working girl — between the yoga teaching and the Kids Deserve Art, and the freelance writing. It’s endless really. And, I don’t know how I do it, no.

But, this is a real job. People are, like, depending on me to do great work. I’m excited and a little nervous and totally passionate about the project — not least because the people I’m working with are amazing and enthusiastic and passionate.

I’d love to tell you more about it, but I can’t AT THIS TIME. You’re just gonna have to wait a WEE bit longer. But, I’m telling you, it’s worth it. This is TRES coo….

What I CAN tell you, though, is Mama’s got some HELP with the monkeys now. I scored myself some good part-time help so I can maybe have some time to actually, you know, work.

The ONLY problem is…is… this….

Tigger. She’s way fat. And she INSISTS on lying on me WHENEVER I turn on my computer. In fact, WHENEVER I sit down ANYWHERE. I can’t tell you how frustrating this is, especially when I’m in a time crunch (i.e., ALWAYS). Sigh. She’s on my lap right now. UGH Don’t get me started on those claws…. AAAARRRGH! I think she just farted.

Can we talk about Kris Allen for a minute? How the heck did he pull off “She Works Hard for the Money” on American Idol last night? And how did he win me over last week after I couldn’t BE BOTHERED with him ALL the weeks before — except to say he’s ADORABLE? Here’s Kris blowing me away last week with “Falling Slowly”….

I love LOVE Danny Gokey. But, now, MOVE OVER DANNY! Well, no. Danny’s number one. But, Kris is inching closer EVERY WEEK. “She Works Hard for the Money” — hello? How? What? Are you KIDDING ME? WHERE did he COME from!? Awesome. And HOTT.

When Josh first held our son RASCAL in his arms, I can TELL you, as Brody Jenner says (and OMG, I am 34 years old and quoting BRODY JENNER), FOR ONE HUNDRED PER CENT FACT that Josh-O did not picture the two of them doing THIS together….

Calico DOLL HOUSE! Check how into it they are….

Note to self: BLACKMAIL Rascal with this later (already blackmailed Josh-O, but he refused to give me his new iTouch, so there!).

I take pictures of squirrels….

Isn’t he GORJ?

Gorgeouses! Speaking of squirrels and GORJ, Happy Earth Day! I want to REALLY celebrate today. Because this beautiful Earth of ours deserves to be honoured and celebrated and thanked. And, honestly, I never felt as strongly about Earth, nature and animals until I had children. I want more than anything for my children and their children to have a HEALTHY Earth, clean water, clean air, TREES, ANIMALS….! I want it so badly that I get obsessive and overly passionate, as you know…. I pick up garbage off the street, yes I do. I recycle EVERYTHING, including stray water bottles on the street — always figuring somehow they’ll end up in the ocean (LOVE OCEAN). I try to limit the amount of garbage my family produces. I EAT NO MEAT — and wouldn’t it be great if everyone just ate a LITTLE LESS meat? Don’t worry, I won’t get started! And, of course, Ifeedtheneighbourhoodsquirrels….

Indeed, my hope and passion for this planet was revived most recently, when I went to Bermuda and saw some of Earth’s truly AWESOME beauty….

And, way to go Disney! This Earth movie looks positively stunning, and inspiring. Enjoy the trailer….

Happy Earth Day, Earth! May our carbon footprints soon start to fade and you flourish for millenniums to come….

LOVE!

xo Haley-O

I’ve been ranting long posts about the monkeys all week. So, I’m not going to talk about them today…, except to say that, no, I did not sleep last night, but, yes, today was a little bit better — probably because Obama was in Canada bringing us all a little hope….

God, that man is so gorj…..

So, no, we’re not going to talk about the kids. We’re going to talk about me and the carp I enjoy, and my little Tatiana Del Toro style identity crisis….

….And how much I love Danny Gokey…. Leave it to American Idol to exploit the poor guy’s tragedy for ratings — his wife died only 4 weeks ago…. But, exploiting Danny’s not so easy, as long as he can help it. When Ryan Seacrest asked Danny what he was envisioning when he sang Mariah Carey’s Hero Tuesday night, instead of answering the obvious “my dead wife,” Danny replied that he was just thinking about inspiring others to move on and be strong in the face of adversity. Respect, man. Respect. Peace out. Because that was all class. The tragedy, however, WILL get him votes. Lots of votes. I, of course, canNOT vote — because I’m in Canada — but, if I could, I’d vote for Danny, not because of his story, but because he’s got a velvet voice and he looks like Robert Downey Junior. LOVE! (I’d also vote for Tatiana because I couldn’t get enough; and talk about exploitation…. Yikes! Poor girl.)

….And how much this guy, Jon Lajoie FROM Montreal (hollah Canada!), has singlehandedly resurrected my abs because HE MAKES ME LAUGH SO HARD (brought to you by JOSH-O, who insisted on taking full credit). This video? Brillers. Enjoy…. Laugh HARD…. (PS. It’s a little racy at the end…. NSFW? Visuals all okay, though — totally SFW.)

….And how much, despite the uggers bikinis and gross objectification of women in this GARSH-awful video, I’m CRAZY about this remake of Toto’s Africa. Please note, however, that, no matter how hard I try, I CANNOT sing that “There’s nothing that a hundred men OR MORE could ever do” line right. Seriously, whenever I sing it, it’s “There’s nothing that a hundred men ON MARS could ever do.” This has been going on for years. Please send help.

….And how much Rascal made me melt today. I know, I said no kid talk today. But, really, there are NO RULES just like there is NO SPOON — I decide, in other words. He fell asleep in his carseat while he was eating a crushed walnut…. SQUEEEE!

(I didn’t really know what to do other than watch him like a hawk and try to wake him up. Leave it to Rascal to be un-wake-up-able in the daytime…with a mouth full of walnut……..)

….And, how much of a LOSER I am because of the dang “xo.” According to my friend Karen, the xo is THE OUT OUT OUT. As in LOSER. And, of course, I’ve been signing my posts “xo Haley-O” for, like, evs, and NOT ONE OF YOU told me to STOPPIT. I am TIRED. I NEED this guidance. I live in my own world. Full of green dots and lines and Asian characters….

I count on you to keep me in the KNOW about these things. Apparently, it’s just “x” now, dammit. So, it’s supposed to be “x Haley-O,” and that’s just confusing. OR, it’s supposed to be “xh,” and that’s just BOO. How ’bout “xHO,” though? That could be good…. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to nix the “-O” for a while now and be just “Haley.” But, I don’t know. I’ve been blogging as “Haley-O” for too long to change it now….

Love!

x
Haley

Blerrrrgh. That does NOT work for me. So impersonal. MWAH MWAH. No.

We’ll just see, I guess…. Maybe I just won’t sign. My posts are long enough as it is these days. And, besides, you know I love you…!

Oh screwit….

LOVE!
xo Haley-O

Last reminder to enter the contest at Goodies! $100 in world-class skincare and makeup could be YOURS. You KNOW you WAAAAN it. Check it!

In the almost-three years that I’ve been blogging, I’ve never talked about the search strings that bring people to this website. And I don’t plan to now. I mean, because, really, it’s not that exciting. Unless you have a monkey fetish. Every search string is monkey this, monkey that, and the odd Justin Timberlake’s penis. I don’t even bother to look at the search strings, really, because nothing surprises me anymore. The one thing, though, that blows my mind is the amount of visits I get to THIS post: “Thursday Thirteen: Worst Celebrity Feet,” from July 6, 2007, when I was preggers with Rascal….

Seriously, about half the people coming to my site are coming for THAT post. While the most recent comments on the post are pretty sweet — in the sense that some people are REALLY passionate about feet, for better or for worse — the emails I get about this post are a pretty consistent source of amusement for me. Especially, this one guy? Who remarked that I never show my feet on this blog (which, I can now dispute, is not true [check the last pic in that post -- MY FEET]), and WHY don’t I show my feet on this blog, and would I like to IM with him? That’s just one, pretty standard, example.

So, there you have it. “Cheaty Monkey — Home of the Foot Fetishists.” And, I couldn’t be prouder.

AND, why am I telling you this today, when it’s been going on for over a year? Because you cannot possibly want to hear more about my Rascal troubles. You can’t possibly want to hear how it’sgrandma had to drop him off with me when I was teaching yoga today. You can’t possibly want to hear that he cried the whole time, and that I was actually subbing for an AEROBICS instructor, and that the women there did NOT want to do yoga…. You can’t possibly want to hear how Rascal kept me up all night by head-butting and body-slamming me. You can’t possibly want to see his favourite bath toy, which is now my favourite bath toy because it makes him happy….

You can’t possibly want to see what I had to do to bake muffins this evening….

I’m actually attempting to show you that I’m rolling my eyes, and not staring awkwardly at the ceiling. And it was the only picture that really turned out. And I REALLY regret that you all have to see me in my dad’s all-season fishing shirt….

Yeah, you can’t possibly want to hear that I had to put my 16-month-old toddler IN A SLING so I could BAKE MUFFINS in my own kitchen. Nor could you possibly want to see a picture of said muffins….

I’ll post them up at the Kitch this weekend, only because you can’t possibly want the recipe….

And then there’s the snow….

You can’t possibly want to know how long it took Josh-O to shovel all that….

And, by the way? SOMEONE’S been eating my FLOWERS….

Love!
xo Haley-O

Rascal was up all night AGAIN last night. At 15 months, I’m dealing with this?

What’s worse? THE MONKEY didn’t sleep either last night. While Rascal sat up screaming, she turned on her light and started playing with, you know, THEM….

Before I go on — in my shouldn’t-be-blogging SLEEPY state (forgives…) — I feel I have a responsibility to tell you that a funny little furball just climbed on my lap and is kissing my face off…. Aww…. I am so loved….

He sleeps. Lucky. Only lucky people (and cats) get to sleep. People with benevolent angel children. (Cats can sleep through anything.)

Last night, the Monkey woke up screaming for me. At first I was flattered that, when push comes to shove, she wants MOI and not DADA. But, then I was all, “OH CARP NOOOOO! THE RASCAL! YOU’RE GONNA WAKE THE RASCAL!” Because we know that if Rascal wakes up the night is OVER. And he woke up. And, it was. Over.

He screamed and screamed and gasped for air in between screams. And, there wasn’t much I could do because the Monkey wanted ME. And 3-year-olds don’t DO rejection. Josh-O tried to go in, but it was fruitless. Rascal wanted me. And, of course, I’m flattered at first, but then I’m just mad and just fed up….

And, you know this is an old picture of Anne Hathaway (2004) because she’s not, like, EMACIATED like she is now. Hello? Yeesh.

So, I didn’t sleep AT ALL last night. When I was finally able to leave the Monkey to PLAY with her BACKYARDIGANS, I picked up the Rascal and took him to bed with me.

Uh oh. I know what you’re thinking. And, I KNOW. I’m teaching him to co-sleep. And it’s not like I can THEN get sleep. Because the little GLOMMER insists on clinging to me like a monkey to its mama….

Photo, with thanks, c/o Jornic.

Hmph. Cheaty little monkey. Not only am I tired, but I’m also STIFF. Because once he finds the perfect CLING, there’s no moving for either of us for the rest of the night — or he wakes up and struggles forEVER to find the next perfect CLING.

Anyway, even though I’m DEAD TIRED, and even though my day was full of annoyances like HELLO SOMEONE STOLE MY DAUGHTER’S SHOES (who steals shoes from a THREE-YEAR-OLD), it was overall a good day.

Know why? Because even though I was DEAD TIRED, and someone STOLE MY DAUGHTER’S SHOES, I still went to my friend Courtney’s house. She, too, is a mother of two little monkeys (same age as mine). And, there we were, laughing and crying together — at motherhood, at how hard it is, how funny it is, how we (as Court pointed out) CHERISH THAT 3-SECOND WALK AROUND THE CAR AFTER WE’VE BUCKLED BOTH KIDS IN AND WE ARE OUTSIDE SANS THEM, AND THANK GOD FOR PARKING METRES BECAUSE WE CAN JUST LEAVE THE KIDS IN THE CAR WHILE WE BUY OUR TICKETS AND IT’S, LIKE, OH IT’S LIKE A MINUTE OF HEAVEN….

Even though I may fantasize about going back to work. Being a stay-at-home mom is what I do. It’s not what I AM, but it’s what I do. It’s my job. A very demanding job. Exhausting job. Often thankless job. But, it IS what I do, and I like to think it’s what I do best.

And, it’s a WORK IN PROGRESS. There are ways to make these winter days better. Like sharing the misery getting together with other moms and laughing at ourselves. And, as we laugh, we find ourselves admiring and laughing at our kids and how UTTERLY CUTE they are. And, we realize we were never in fact alone. That we have each other to lean on and confirm that we actually are ALIVE. That we can be a stay-at-home mom AS WELL AS who we ARE.

The best part of the playdate? The trade secrets. Courtney taught me the BEAUTY of Winter. The nights, Gorgeouses, they start early. So, in Courtney-esque fashion, I put my kids to bed at 6:45 tonight. And, ahhh, bliss. Ahhh, SHORT DAY.

Wish me luck getting sleep tonight! And, seriously, thank you for your amazing, supportive comments yesterday…. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate them and how much they helped me today.

Love! xo Haley-O

It’s not a great writing day for me today. Even though I had a BEAUTIFUL yoga class, in which we chanted WHILE doing poses for TWO HOURS (total bliss), I’ve feeling utterly loopy. And, loopy is not good for the blogging.

Mostly, I’m loopy because I’ve been OCD’ing about soy this evening. Is it good for me? Is it bad for me? Can I, INDEED, drink my favourite drink — STARBUCKS SOY NO-WATER CHAI LATTE — every single day guilt free?

Unless I’m on the run, now, I ALWAYS get my chai latte FOR HERE. Because, as one of my fave baristas told me the other day, the Starbucks cups are practically non-recyclable because they’re lined with a thin plastic film…. Eeek. Something to think about, Gorgeouses. And, a good reason (aside from the soy issue) for me to stop drinking the darn thing unless I’m able to SIT THERE with MUG. The $35/week that I spend on this addiction is ANOTHER VERY GOOD reason to quit….

And, NOW, how can I write during this week’s The Hills episode? I mean, you’re telling me I’m supposed to LOOK AT THIS COMPUTER SCREEN while Heidi and Spencer are ELOPING (conveniently in front of The Hills crew members)? I mean that’s just TOO GOOD to miss.

Not that I’m a fan of the two of them. I’m TEAM LAUREN all the way. But, the “Speidi” fascinates me because they’re just SO RIDICULOUSLY FAKE! I mean, it’s INSULTING that they’d think for a minute that I, Haley-O, would believe anything they say or do….

It’s like they were MEANT TO BE together, though, because they both have the same middle name: “P.R.”!

But, omigosh, Heidi was totally DRUNK when when she agreed to marry him! He DID “drug her,” as her mom said to US Magazine! And, ew, they’re sitting in bed THE MORNING AFTER THEIR WEDDING with The Hill‘s TV Crew RIGHT THERE. INSANITY INSANITY INSANITY.

Sigh, I love trashy TV. How excited am I for Whitney’s new spin-off: The City. Cannot WAIT. Here’s the trailer…because you know you love it….

I CAN’T tell you I’ll be watching Brody Jenner’s new show, Bromance, though. OY! OF COURSE I WILL.

Ahem. See, I told you I shouldn’t write tonight.

But, if I WERE to write something about my day today, it’d be this: my kids, they LOVE each other now…!!!

It’s REALLY hard to see from these back-of-the-head photos, but they’re playing TOGETHER, and laughing hysterically. I’m cooking dinner, and HE is chasing HER around house…. Too cute. TOO!

Mmmm…, orange juice. I just had the biggest craving. Better now.

Yes, my little monkeys LOVE EACH OTHER. Rascal (who now crawls around saying HIS OWN NAME over and over) stands, holding his little arms out to the side to balance, grinning ear to ear, and the Monkey is screaming, “MAMA! LOOK! HE’S STANDING! HE’S STANDING! HE’S STANDING! COME SEEEEEE! COME SEEEEEE!” Apparently, the novelty of Rascal standing hasn’t warn off for her yet…. Of course, he loves it. She’s his personal cheering squad. Gorgeouses!? It’s so cute!

Finally…. If I WERE to write ONE MORE THING about my day today, it be about the curious thing I found while I was walking Rascal this afternoon….

An angel…. Talk about RANDOM. LOOK AT THAT THING! But, really, there’s no such thing as random. Perhaps this means something? Hmmmm….

And, WOW, did you hear this? Japanese scientists have found a way to read minds and SEE YOUR DREAMS!?!? I’m not sure what’s harder to believe: a world in which science can read MINDS? or that Heidi and Spencer are in fact in love and more than just a PR stunt….

Well, it was great chatting with you this evening….
See you tomorrow!
Love!
xo Haley-O

No sudden movements, Gorgeouses. Seriously. I’m even typing right now in a VERY awkward position so as NOT TO MOVE THE CORRRRRRRD.

My Macbook cord. It’s dying. Hopefully, it’ll die a really sloooooow death — say, another hour or so till this battery is charged. And, then I can blog BLISSFULLY (heh) and head out to the Apple store clutching BURNT cord in hand FIRST thing in the morning….

For now, I’d like to thank the makers of DUCT TAPE (which, until pretty recently, I admit, I thought was called DUCK tape — but, TELL ME YOU DIDN’T, TOO?).

I should send this photo to stuffonmycat.com, shouldn’t I? Minden would make a great cover cat for their calendar….

You know, even though I’m writing about my frikking macbook cord? It feels SO GOOD to be writing, Gorgeouses. SO GOOD and IMPORTANT to accomplish something for me, ONE THING, in my monkey-centred days. I totally see that now. So, it was a good thing to quit — even if just for a (very) little while. It’s like that Joni Mitchell song: “don’t know what you’ve got ’till it’s gone.” Sigh, I love Joni Mitchell…. Love love love love love love love….

You know, if I were a celebrity, they’d call this a publicity stunt…. Ha! Because I’ve never felt so loved! Thank you, GORGEOUSES! At the same time, I’m not the most outgoing person. I’m feeling a little, erm, shy and slightly, erm, unworthy….

I think part of it is this crystal bracelet I’ve been wearing….

Ever since I started wearing it, my emotions have been on FIYAH (no kidding!). Now, I really want a heart chakra necklace…. Something like this — to remind me to be kinder to myself, my own best friend on days like today when [NOT BLOGGABLE]. Ahem. Check how LOVERLY….

It’s ONLY $864!!??!! I’ll have to sell a lohohot of art to buy it. But, it’s soooooo perty….

Instead of BORING you with talk of macbook cords, I was going to talk to you about my new plan: I’m walking 30-60 minutes a day! LOSING THE PREGNANCY WEIGHT. I am finally committed to losing the weight. Hallelujah…. I’m also desperately TRYING not to eat tonight at night. It’s HARD — cuz apparently I tend to get TRAY anxious at night….

I was going to talk to you about all that, BUT, it’s my bedtime. Yes, fresh after watching the creepiest show on TV, FRINGE, I’m going to bed. So, I can dream of pituitary glands and old babies and blaaaaaaahhhhhrrrrg — although…, dreaming of Joshua Jackson wouldn’t be so bad….

As I said to Josh-O, I should not be watching this I should not be watching this I should not be watching this. There’s even a warning: “May not be suitable for younger audiences and SENSITIVE VIEWERS.” I AM SENSITIVE VIEWER PAR EXCELLENCE!!!

Sigh, oh well. I’ll listen to my ipod and curl up with Minden for awhile. It’ll be aiight.

xo Haley-O!

PS: When I quit the blog, I deleted ALL the categories. I have to now RE-CATEGORIZE circa 800 posts? Yikes. I’ll get to it whenevs (see how laid-back I am now????!!!)

PPS: WHAT WAS I THINKING deleting categories? What was the POINT of that? Blerg. Where’s my rose quartz crystal — need the self-love thing now because ARRRRGH!?

I am so sick, Gorgeouses. Like, ewww.

But, I’ll be a’iight. Just sitting in my bed. Three pillows behind my back, a dosing wheezy rascal and a pile of used-up Kleenex by my side, and a humming humidifier giving us both a smidgen of relief.

I’m also so attractive right now? You don’t even KNOW. My hair’s pulled back in a sloppy bun. Nose is running, red from all the blowing (shut it, pervs — I’m in NO MOOD). Jaw is agape, lips dry and cracking from the dreaded mouth breathing. Eyes red with bags, and (speaking of bags) braless, in uggers oversized shirt. Doesn’t get more attractive than THAT, eh? (Did I just say “eh”?) I’d post a picture of myself, but I don’t want you to get all mad at me if your life is never the same again because of it….

Just like my life will never be the same since reading Skinny Bitch: A No-Nonsense, Tough-Love Guide for Savvy Girls Who Want to Stop Eating Crap and Start Looking Fabulous. (How was THAT for segue of the century!?)

Like any other unsuspecting girlie girl on the planet, I thought this was going to be a cute, light “chick” read. I mean, look at the cover! And…, the TITLE!

But, NOOoooOOOOooo! It was NOT. This was a DIATRIBE, Gorgeouses — a DARK DIATRIBE — against everyone from the USDA to the dairy and meat industries to what the authors call the “selfish whores who eat veal”! How am I supposed to look at my meat-eating husband again, or even FEED my monkeys, if I’m going to buy everything they say in this book — let alone consume ANYTHING with ANY TRACE of animal product in it WHATSOEVER?

I’m telling you: if I don’t put this book down NOW, it’s liable to hurl me headfirst into the ABYSS OF INSANITY (which, as you probably suspect by now, I’m already on the edge of)!

Sigh, anyway, while it’s good that the book opened my eyes even wider to the HORRORS that occur in the slaughterhouses, it sucks that I can’t STOP THEM. The only thing I can do is, once and for all, to turn completely vegetarian.

Even vegetarian is no good, though, for authors Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin (no wonder they’re bitchy!). They want the world to go VEGAN. And, I’ve been toying with the idea because the authors are MEAN!

But, I can’t live life without cheese. And, since Skinny Bitch says that the dairy industry is just as evil as the meat industry, I’ve decided I will spend my life savings on ORGANIC dairy and eggs from here on in. And, now I’ll SHUT THE DAMN BOOK FOREVER. (If I don’t, I’m liable to give up everything sweet in life: I actually had a decaf green tea instead of my beloved Starbucks Grande Soy No-Wather Tazo Chai Latte yesterday, BECAUSE THEY SAID SO, and my day sucked.)

Am I rambling? I think I’m rambling. Maybe time to check the feeeeeever again….

Sigh…. At least the animals in MY house are happy — one thing I CAN control….

I went downstairs THREE times today. Twice for orange juice and tea with honey, and once for something Skinny Bitch would HANG me for — starts with “coo” and ends with “kies.” Anyway, this is what I saw:

First trip downstairs:

Second trip downstairs:

Third trip downstairs:

My poor, poor brown sweater…!

As for Skinny Bitch…. While I pledge to do my part in fighting animal cruelty in the slaughterhouses and helping to save the environment (important causes for ME) by going vegetarian* and by supporting the organic farm companies,** CHEATY DOES NOT RECOMMEND SKINNY BITCH. It’s dangerous, potentially eating-disorder promoting, and it’s just plain darkly and horrifically far from what it presents itself to be — i.e., there’s a reason I don’t frequent the PETA website.

*Alas, I cannot impose vegetarianism on my children. I WILL cook organic poultry and fish (sticks) for them.

**Alas, I WILL give up chai teas during the week so that I can buy organic foodstuff without denting my “pocketbook” (does ANYONE say “pocketbook” anymore?). Decaf green tea will take some getting used to, and maybe a few bad-mood posts here for a while, but it’s for a good cause and, me-hears, a very healthy alternative.