She got another freaky little doll….

Of course, you want (nay, need) to know their names (from left to right): LOUISA, ROSE-MARSHMALLOW, MARSHMALLOW, ROSEBUD.

Marshmallow is her favourite, her first….

I have other news. But it has to wait because I’m TOO TIRED from this WEIRDEST DAY EVER. Weird and fun, but full of suckage. Albeit funny suckage (I admit it’s funny even though am crying a little bit still). I’ll save it for tomorrow’s post. But, I’ll give you a few hints to tide you over (there’s also my twitter stream with ALL the crazy deets…):

Oof.

Love….

xo Haley-O

P.S.: THERE’S A GIVEAWAY AT CHEATY GOODIES. My fave online/offline store and spa PURE + SIMPLE IS BACK! Check it. And enter! Their stuff is the BEST.

To sleep, perchance to dream — ay, there’s the rub….
Hamlet (III, i, 64)

Four days ago I was all set to write the post we’ve all been waiting for (you know you’ve been waiting for this, at the edge of your seat, yahhuh!) — the post IN WHICH I announce that a certain two-and-a-half-year-old is finally sleeping through the night. I was all ready to get my HOLLAHHHHHs and everything. But, then, this revelation came about, and I just had to write about it, and then, ummmmmmmmm, the certain two-and-a-half-year-old stopped sleeping through the night, and has practically stopped sleeping altogether.

“MOMMY, MOOOOOMMMMMY! I. NEED. YOU.”

How can you resist “I. NEED. YOU” in the wee hours of the morning? Actually, it’s more like, “I. NEED. HYOU.” How do I resist that? Do I want to resist it when, 10 years from now, I know I’ll be bribing him for a wee cuddle? Because, frankly, I missed the little guy last week when he slept from 7:30pm to 7:30am for a whole 3 days straight. He even played in his crib when he woke up, telling his stuffed animals to, “Wait yo turn!” He was all proud of himself for sleeping through the night, too: “Mama, you powda me?” I totally thought we had it in the bag. But, no. As the Rascal would say, “Not really.” Actually, it’s more like, “Not reeee-eey.”

But, now that he’s back to NOT sleeping through the night, I miss when he WAS sleeping through the night. Especially since my bed is extra packed these days because my parents are away in California. Yes. It’s their fault. Because now, not only is Rascal in my bed, but also

and

Minden, MAARGE (looking très creepy up there), and my parents’ dog Olivia — or, as the Monkey likes to call her, “Yulivia” (we refuse to correct this), and, as the Rascal likes to call her, “Yayvah Yayvah Yayvah” (we refuse to correct this). Olivia’s deaf. All of them and THE RASCAL (never mind Josh…) aggressively vie for my slumberous attention throughout the night…. Actually they’re vying for my attention all the time — right at this very moment as a matter of fact. Minden is purring on top of me, and I can hardly see the computer screen. Have I made any typos?

Sighh…. TIRED. Sleep well, ye Gorgeouses…!

Love!

xo Haley-O

As you may have noticed in my last post, I’m on a bit of a spiritual kick. And, I know, that doesn’t explain a thing about WHAT THE HELL that post was, but that’s the point (or the non-point). Maybe “spiritual” isn’t the right word. And hopefully this isn’t a “kick.” Because, as I said in that last post, I’m happy — happy not trying to be happy. Because trying to be happy presupposes that I’m not happy. And if I step outside my bumbling brain for a bit and look at things as they are, I’m damn happy. Yeeaahh.

“Spiritual” is definitely not the right word either. I’ve sort of been-there-done-that, and it didn’t stick. It was definitely a “kick.” I don’t even really care if the psychic across the road from the big bookstore I frequent is really psychic or not, or even if I have a “spirit guide,” and what his name is, or if my dead cat is communicating with me when I’m sleeping. Because, at least for me, it doesn’t matter. Matter.

Regular yoga practice is teaching me this. How good practicing yoga makes me feel doesn’t matter. Matter. What matters is what’s here, what’s clear. My cat sitting on my lap, purring, now turning to me with stinky wet kisses, the click-clicking of the keys under my fingertips, my daughter upstairs serenading her dad: “it’s not my fault, the police gave me a ticket once because it’s not catching up to you, na-na-na-na-na” (#wtf?). Time passes quickly, and I’m done squandering my life.

So there are things to let go of. Me, the clinger. Addictions, fears, desires, anxieties. This doesn’t mean I plan on repressing or transcending these things, or never-ever-having-a-Starbucks-soy-no-water-tazo-chai-ever-again-EVER. It just means watching, noticing, observing the patterns, the wanting, the cravings — human stuff that we all get sucked into, stuck in. Not caring where it all comes from or why.

This is all a little something I’m learning from him (ignore the old caption — try)…

…and through him (who happens to have been my best friend when I was around 4-6 years old — so, kind of kismet)…

One day, I’ll have the guts to go to Michael Stone’s studio, maybe take a class, maybe let him know the impact he’s had on my life and, so, the lives around me….

Don’t worry, I’m still loving The Real Housewives. Just dancing more to the beat of my own drummer. And maybe even to a little Alicia Keys, because…

…because that’s what my girls are playing because we’re going to NYC — Blogher ’10 — this summer with a whole bunch of other fabulous people whom I genuinely love. Come with us!? God help me, my family’s coming, too! But they’ll be staying with Josh’s sister and husband in Brooklyn. Yes, it will be quite the roadtrip. And I expect to overhear many a backseat conversation, such as this little nugget from today:

TANGENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All that matters: my amazing family, good friends, authenticity (but not the cliche kind), the world, this earth, “this ground.” What doesn’t matter: “big bloggers,” stats, twitter followers, fame, what-if’s, what so-and-so thinks of how my kid behaved in the restaurant, or what so-and-so thinks of what I’m wearing (again)…. None of it matters. Too much squandering. Squandering.

So, basically, while I’m not going to give up squandering altogether (you’d have to PAY me to give up Housewives right now, and, hmmm, twitter), I’m a little more focused on what matters, on what’s real, here, and now, on this earth.

One more tweet for the road – because it came out of nowhere last week and is, dare I say, très apropos….

It’s about being here and now and balanced within an extremely unbalanced society, ecology, economy, etc., etc….

Kind of like this wonderful boy, my blog friend (and fellow T-Dot book clubber) Sandra Diaz‘s eight-year-old son Zachary, raising thousands of dollars for assaulted women, and volunteering any way he can for other important charities. He was honoured at Disney on Ice the other night. That’s yoga — as opposed to “blissing out” in hot pink lululemons. I got to take a picture….

Though it’s a fabulous workout and great for the nervous system, the heart of yoga is in the here and now. In not escaping but being present and active anywhere that you’re needed. Most people don’t realize it. Most people don’t realize how enlightening it is to really be in the here and now — through yoga, meditation, and even just reading (maybe even a blog post?) about it.

Bottom line in 140 characters or less? I don’t care about small stuff anymore. Dunzo. (Okay more than 140 characters.) I will continue to wear my flaws on my sleeve. But I’ll let them be. I’ll go with the flow and focus on what matters. Really matters.

It’s a work in progress…, of course.

People ask me about yoga and yoga books/dvds all the time. So, basically: Michael’s books (he has three of them now) — Cheaty RECOMMENDS.

Love!

xo Haley-O

I’m only writing a post right now so that I can move the last post I wrote down the line. You know — the one DOWN THERE where I say I’m obsessed with Bethenny Frankel? I’m NOT obsessed with Bethenny Frankel. I’ve just had a fever on and off for 2 weeks, and I, clearly, wrote that post during one of my more feverish moments. I’m shivering with fever chills just thinking about it: me, obsessed with Bethenny Frankel. While I like her — and maintain that I still LOVE the whole Real Housewives series and may write about it elsewhere on the internet later today, from my bed, while feverish — I’m not obsessed with her. Although her body really is something else, and she tells it like it is like nobody’s business, and she makes a mean margarita (not that I drink margaritas)…. Not obsessed. Seriously. Did I mention I’m SICK AS A DOG?

I’ve been sick for 2 weeks. And, aside from the smoking part, I remind myself of Rosana Rosanadana in this famous SNL skit (FAVE)…..

From the rash in Florida, to the worst sore throat I’ve ever had in my life, to the stomach flu that had me praying to the porcelain god like I HAVE NEVER, and now to this cold? I’m A MESS. So I thought I’d share. And this is better than nothing, right? It’s better than leaving a post up for days stating I’m obsessed with Bethenny Frankel. Actually, I’m a little, more admirably, obsessed with Wallace Stevens today — since I found his book Palm at the End of the Mind in a box in my garage while I was looking for another book (that I for the life of me cannot find):

To say more than human things with human voice,
That cannot be; to say human things with more
Than human voice, that, also, cannot be;
To speak humanly from the height or from the depth
Of human things, that is acutest speech.
(Wallace Stevens, “Chocurua to its Neighbor”)

So there’s that. And just when I was about to go to bed for the entire day and maybe, like, heal and such, I realize Monkey and I have to count one hundred hearts together….

And we have to do our Friday school homework assignment…. And we have to make Valentine’s Day cards — 20 of them, which involve the handwriting of each child’s name in her class GOD HELP US ALL. And the mystery therein lies in this undeniable fact: my child’s “y”s look like vaginas….

Okay, to bed….

Love!

xo Haley-O

I’m having trouble writing this post. Know why? Two reasons: 1) I’m hungry; 2) I’m tired. Well, I’m not really hungry. I’m NUDGED — which is Jewish talk for “I JUST FEEL LIKE EATING.” If I’m going to get fit and fabulous, if I’m going to make the Jillian Michael’s HELL VIDEO worth it every freaking morning when I could be cuddling in my warm bed with my Rascal, if I’m going to FINALLY break old habits I cultivated to keep paralyzing anxiety at bay during my pregnancies — OVER TWO YEARS AGO NOW — and if I’m going to look SMOKIN’ hott in my tankini in Florida (where I’ll be for NINE DAYS at the end of this month — GOD BLESS MY PARENTS), then I’m going to have to stop stop STOP eating at night, like, after dinner, like, just because I FEEL LIKE IT, like, just because I’M tired and, like, because I apparently believe that keeping my mouth busy somehow helps me concentrate at night, like, on work and stuff.

If only I wasn’t TERRIFIED of gum.

So, maybe that means I go to bed shortly after dinner JUST so I don’t eat?

But, how will I get my work done? I no longer work when I’m alone with the kids. They’re DISTRACTING, and I love hanging with them. Love love love. Which is also why I’m tired.

“Monkey,” I ask, “Who are you talking to?” “NO ONE, MAMA! I’m just talking to MYSELF!”

Yes, motherhood is GOOOOD right now (except for the constant leftover preggers anxiety that just hovers there like a cat hair dangling from my eyelash — so annoying). I’m loving the ages they’re at: 2 and 4. Oy! And life is short. They grow up so fast. And some other cliche. So, I stay up late so I can enjoy my kids AND work my arse off — so I can have my cake and eat it, too. (Mmmm…. Cake…..)

Where was I?

Which is why I’m tired. And nudged at the end of the day, when they’re finally in bed, and I have a boatload of work to plow through.

AND, now, I’ve just eaten a handful of low-sodium, gluten-free pretzels and vegan hot cocoa. Not SO bad. But, unnecessary. I wasn’t hungry. Why eat when you’re not hungry? At night? WHY? I need to get to the bottom of this.

It’s not about weight, Gorgeouses. It’s about addiction and habits and moving FORWARD after my pregnancies. Maybe some counseling is in order. Or some energy work. Lots of energy work and counseling. I’ll never be my old self. And I don’t WANT to be my old skinny pre-pregnancy self. I just want to stop hiding. I want to be free of these self-sabotaging habits! Heyyy…! Who invited Dr. Phil to this party…?

So, HELP! What can I do to STOP eating at night? Believe it or not, I’ve QUIT STARBUCKS! I haven’t had a grande soy no-water tazo chai in over a week. HOORAHHH! I’ve also been exercising HARD CORE for 11 days straight. HOORAHHH! AND, I’ve been doing major yoga daily. HOORAHHH! I’m definitely patting myself on the back for all of this. But the next big thing is conquering the night eating. THEN I’ll be happy (realistically, though, I’ll probably find something else to conquer — must. stoppit.) Anyway, help?

I’ll take any advice on stopping the night eating other than GUM. Gaaaahhhhhhh GUMMM Gaaaaahhhh!

By the way, check CHEATY GOODIES for the WINNAH of the FLIP VIDEO CAMCORDER contest — it’s another fun-filled video STARRING the Monkey, the Rascal, moi and Josh-O. Enjoy!

Ooo! And, by the way, my designer spruced up my Kids Deserve Art store! NEW HOME PAGE, and I’ve lowered prices. I know — sweeeeet! Many thanks to the ridiculously talented SARA KUGELMASS (aka the brillers force behind SKART, and much more)!

Happy 2010! It’s gonna be a GOOD ONE!

Love!

xo Haley-O

I have resolutions. As most of you know, I’m ALWAYS making resolutions, so you can’t be THAT surprised to see that my first post in ALMOST a week (I couldn’t hold out for the whole week…) is a long list of resolutions. Because, as you will see from this list, I resolve to be PERFECT in 2010. Yes, PERFECT. And, you know what, Gorgeouses? I’ve already started. See, for me, 2010 started last week. And so far so good. Except for tonight, when I splurged on some organic lollipops and, erm, a chai freaking f*ing latte, grrrrr….

A-ny-way….

Check it:

IN 2010, I RESOLVE….

1. To lose 25 pounds. And, yes, this belongs at the top of my list. Because LOOK at these videos of me — particularly the last one. I ran and reran it, like, a thousand times, NO KIDDING, trying harrrrd to deny that I looked rather large. And it DIDN’T HELP that….

MORE importantly, this resolution belongs at the top of my list because the better I feel about myself, the more I exercise and the healthier I eat, the better person I BECOME all ’round — the better, less anxious, MOTHER I become, the more PATIENT and CONFIDENT and INSPIRED and ENERGETIC I become. See this is KEY. SO, to get started on this goal, I’ve ALREADY begun my 30-Day Shred program….

I’m on DAY 7 of Level 1. I’m doing each level for 10 days (as prescribed by Shredheads). I haven’t lost a single pound this week, but I’m seeing some definition in my belly and shoulders again. So, as I tweeted the other day, I’m holding on tight to the fact that….

2. Hi, my name is Haley-O, and I’m a Shopaholic. Yes, à la Rebecca Bloomwood….

In fact, I’m watching the movie Confessions of a Shopaholic AS I WRITE this post – LOVE!  Only I don’t spend my money on fabulously quirky designer clothes and accessories like Rebecca Bloomwood does, no. I spend tons of money on designer organic FOOD that often never gets used. So, I resolved to PLAN PLAN PLAN what I’m going to cook (speaking of which, have you SEEN my latest recipe, in which I actually USE my designer foods?), and BUDGET BUDGET BUDGET what I spend. Incidentally, I can’t take my eyes off Isla Fischer’s GLORIOUS red hair in this movie. Which reminds me….

3. I will get a hair cut. It is, like, GROSS long right now. But, TIME! There’s never any TIME!

4. WHICH reminds me of my resolution to KEEP AN AGENDA! In 2010 I will keep an agenda — TO THE HOUR. Because, as I mentioned JUST the other day….

5. I will go to the office at least twice a week.

6. I will write at least 2 brillers articles for Cottage Country PER WEEK.

7. I will be as patient with myself and others as my boss at Cottage Country has been with me….

8. I will practice yoga and meditate every day (even if it’s for 5-10 minutes).

9. I will brush my cats’ teeth.

10. As a little voice in my head told me (DO do DO do DO do DO do — it’s the twilight zone theme song, okay!?!) during my savasana meditation at the end of yesterday’s yoga session….

LIVE!

In the year 2010, I WILL LIVE. I’m not really sure exactly what that means, but I THINK it has something to do with worrying less and living more, with being in the PRESENT — whether I’m working, playing with the kids, cooking, exercising, or just chilling with my kitties….

OR! Chilling with my parents’ Chinese Crested Powder Puff “Olivia”…. Did I mention, I’m babysitting her? I love taking her EVERYWHERE with me. EVERYWHERE!

I’m a regular PARIS HILTON!

Check her out at the office HERE. She did NOT get along with the boss’s dog Taco at all. BUT, she DOTH love my MEENO (Minden)! Here she is, cuddling with Minden….

OY! Olivia’s deaf, by the way. Did I mention that?

Monkey: Yulivia! Yulivia! Come here!
Me: Honey, Olivia can’t hear you. She’s deaf, remember?
Monkey: Why? Can she not hear because her ears are down?

Hee…!

Did I mention it’sgrandma and papa’shere took me and the Monkey to The National Ballet of Canada’s (LOVE!) production of The Nutcracker? Here’s it’sgrandma and the Monkey chatting excitedly ahead of me….

And, here are the Monkey and me…. Ahhh, special moments! #TOOLONGHAIR!!!

We were so ridiculously lucky to have my absolute favourite male ballet dancer, PIOTR STANCZYK (see, I wrote about him HERE), dance the role of the Nutcracker….

LOVE!!!!!!!111oneone

And, incredibly, my favourite female ballet dancer, Sonia Rodriguez, danced the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy….

I was in HEAVEN. Didn’t want it to end. Papa’shere didn’t even fall asleep during the performance! Seriously, the show was so good I was fantasizing about it the next day. Loooooove. As I always like to say, the National Ballet of Canada is a Canadian GEM that is so worth our support. SWAN LAKE is coming in March! Toronto Gorgeouses, book your tix! (And, no, nobody pays me to say this!)

Did I mention it’sgrandma and papa’shere bought the Monkey a little porcelain ballerina at the Ballet Boutique, just before the show? Did I mention she dropped it during the intermission and the hand fell off and papa’shere was going to glue it but the Monkey wanted to take it home, so I said I’d glue it, but then, did I mention, the Rascal got hold of it and threw it on the ground and smashed it to pieces. So, did I mention, I went back to the The Nutcracker the following day, raved to the usher about Piotr Stanczyk, and bought her a new porcelain ballerina? DEEP BREATH. Did I mention that?

How many days do you think this porcelain ballerina is going to last before it’s smashed to pieces again?

Yes, in 2010, I’m going to live and LAUGH and LOVE more….

How about you, Gorgeouses?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Love!
xo Haley-O

P.S.: Did I mention there’s a wee contest going on over at Cheaty Goodies? If you haven’t seen it, get the FLIP over there because I’m giving away a FLIP CAMCORDER, and the contest closes DECEMBER 31st!

At 2 years and 2 months old, the Rascal is starting to really talk. Sometimes I think I need some sort of translator contraption like the one in the movie Up….

…but for 2-year-old humans. For the most part, though, I’m understanding him — and I’m LOVING the way he bravely conquers each word.

Like “Pickadoe.”

“Pickadoe,” we’ve discovered, is Rascal’s word for “PEEK-A-BOO.” It took me a while to figure this one out, in particular, because he tends to say it without the traditional hand gesture….

PICKADOE!

In addition to our entertaining advancements in language, we are very, VERY affectionate, especially with our MAMA. This kid will not go to bed without, I KID YOU NOT, 20 kisses between the crib bars. For about five or so minutes after I put him in his crib, I have to crouch down to his level, stick my face between the crib bars, and repeatedly meet THIS usually wet, sometimes-snotty, always-adorable pucker:

These are but two of the many awesome Rascalisms I am CHERISHING and want to remember always — he’s growing so freaking fast!

I also want to remember these crazy elaborate beds The Monkey’s been making for her new doll “Marshmallow”….

Yes, she’s given Marshmallow ALL her toys to sleep with. That’s one lucky doll…. (And one unlucky MAMA will eventually be cleaning all this up.)

In related news, Minden’s breath is as bad as ever. Here:

Whew! Oh, what’s that? You missed it? Here:

Oh, EXCUUUUSE ME! Apparently, Minden’s not amused….

PICKADOE!

xo Haley-O

The Monkey got a new colouring book at Starbucks this morning (do NOT ask me what I was drinking there — especially because you ALL know what it was, and you ALL know my shame).

As with ALL Starbucks products, it was stupid pricey, but so awesome, and I was determined to keep the kids busy so I could maybe finish reading the 300 pages I have left of my monthly book club book in time for our meeting Wednesday — my ONE PERSONAL GOAL IN LIFE at this very busy time being that I read the book-club book in time for the meeting…, for Wednesday. GAH! Why did DENGUY have to pick the longest book EVER for this month’s read? Good thing the book is AH-MAY-ZING.

As I was saying, the Monkey’s new colouring book is awesome — especially for a kid who really is a natural artist. I mean, ALL kids are natural artists, but she’s a little more artsy, more “artistically mature” than others. She’s not one to kick a ball or master the monkey bars (despite her internet name), but the girl can DRAW.

That said, I was a little surprised at how she tackled the book’s prompt to “make a strawberry cake”:

She coloured the whole thing black, as you can see. And added, erm, a strawberry.

Closeup on the strawberry….

I have no words for this strawberry. Well, I do. Have words. But, they don’t need to be said. Do they.

She fared a little better with the, erm, cherry pie….

I love all the delicate details — her trademark. They always make me go “hmmm…,” and “wow”….

I never finished the 300 pages of my book. I was too busy laughing at strawberries. But, we all had a great time together, and there are two more days ’til Wednesday.

I’m a bit of an anxious basket case lately. I kind of always am when fall turns to winter, and the smells of the shifting seasons — damp leaves, home cooking, smoke from neighborhood fireplaces — emerge full force, subtly bringing me back to the dark, prenatal depressions of my pregnancies. And it’s togetherness that’s getting me by. Nightly “CUDDAH”s (cuddles) with the Rascal, reading fairy books in a fairy nook with the Monkey, playing a family game of Hungry Hippos on a Sunday afternoon….

Monkey’s favourite doll played the yellow hippo while I captured the moment…. For some unknown reason, she’s named the doll “Marshmallow”…

Again, no words.

The monkey loves making beds for “Marshmallow,” and she carries “Marshmallow” EVERYWHERE with her….

I love it. It’s adorable.

I LOVE my hilariously talented, quirky little Monkey.

Seriously, no words.

With the advent of twitter lists (which I doubt I’ll ever get around to making myself because I hardly have time to write to-do or shopping lists let alone SEVERAL lists dividing my friends into groups — high school much? — and unintentionally snubbing them, which is bound to happen)…what was I saying? I forget because I got distracted by Whitney and Jay’s conversation on this eve’s rerun of MTV’s The City….

That picture is so last year, like, when Jay and Whitney were still together. But I didn’t have time to find any current pics of them. But I DID have time to watch THIS WEEK’s episode just now. And I just want to say that, if Elle Magazine wants to interview bloggers — because, as Joe Zee (Elle‘s creative director) puts it, “blogs are the places where news is breaking right now” — they should come TO ME, and my SLIPPERS…. Remember these?

Still wearing ‘em! There’s nothing these two less famous bloggers have that I don’t, right? I blog in my pajamas, too, and shop with my mother…? No? Yes? Elle?

If I don’t get into Elle Magazine, can I at least get on X-WEIGHTED? I need to lose these last 15. Or maybe I’ll just curl up on my couch with my Puffins and make twitter lists, instead. It’s safer here in my comfort zone…. Except right now. Because Josh just made clam chowder, and it STINKS in here.

So, I do have a little list JUST for this blog because my poor blog gets pushed aside so often these days for other more “pressing” things, and this really shouldn’t be, really saddens me, really has to stop because I love blogging…, and if one more thing goes to sh*t because I’m working too much, then something’s got to give. Because DOGGONE IT, I’m important.

So my list, ahem.

1. I love the way Rascal says “banana” — “badanan,” as in, “MO BADANAN, MAMA! MO BADANAN.”

2. Rascal eats too many badanans.

3. The Monkey is addicted to hugging. In the middle of the Swine Flu pandemic, she’s hugging strangers (not that it really matters because Swine Flu is air born).

4. I had Kabocha squash for dinner.

5. Rascal can count to two now. It’s official: “One, Doo, ONE!”

6. Monkey is obsessed with drawing me without a body because, apparently, “it’s too hard” to draw my body….

7. WHICH I choose to take as a compliment, because why not and DOGGONE IT!

8. I’m the disembodied turbaned head on the far left of the drawing — next to me is the artiste herself, her brother, and a caterpillar.

8. I am NOT too old to love The City, OR The Hills….

9. I also love the Glee, The Office, The Tudors, So You Think You Can Dance and Survivor.

10. I did watch V, but I will never watch it again.

11. Just like I will never watch Fringe again.

12. Or the Y&R, which I quit a month ago, WHICH should be a post in itself because it’s a big f-ing deal.

13. I want Russell to win Survivor.

14. I can’t end on #13 not because it’s “bad luck” but because it’s just a weird number to end on.

15. #15 is a better number to end on than #14.

16. I always go for the odd numbers.

17. OCD.

18. But, #18 is an ideal number to end LISTS on.

19. Even though it’s an odd number.

20. I think I’m into even now.

I can’t come to the blog right now…. Gone fishing….

Well, not REALLY fishing. Of course, no fish were harmed in the process of this fishing….

Also, can’t come to the blog because laying down on DOCK staring up at sky….

…and because am sliding down twisty slide into cold clear lake POST sweet stint in outdoor hottub…. Am CARAZAY!

Gorgeouses, it is stunningly beautiful here….

I’m in my element. My favourite element. WATER, TREES, BLUE SKIES, tons of LITTLE DOGS, and a RIDICULOUS COTTAGE. RIDICULOUS.

If only I didn’t have to WORK. Ah well. I’ll work by the water, when I have to. I have INTERNET STICK. Sweet, sweet internet stick.

I’m here ’til Friday and will definitely soak it all in — the sun, the water. Gift.

By the way — something to tide you over while I’m gone — BEST MONKEYISMS EVER LATELY:

1. Monkey notices Josh-O’s sunburn peeling and asks, “Dada? Are you going to be all bones?” BWAH!

2. My sister tells Monkey that “Mama went down the slide and into the lake.” Monkey starts to cry, and asks, “Is she going to come back?”

Love!

xo Haley-O