Monthly Archives: October 2012

Happy Birfday Auntie E!


Today our lovely auntie is having a birthday today- so naturally we have to share why she’s so awesome, and why we hope she’s having a happy day!


She introduced J to some crack.  Can we have crack this weekend?  Mmmm peanut buttery chocolate…

Editor problems.

She’s one amazing editor.  And definitely knows the difference between they’re, their and there.  Right?


She does NOT believe the above.  But she is a pretty awesome person to talk to.

pride and prejudice


Slings and Arrows

She is on the cutting edge of rarely seen, but amazing media.  And has created some crazy obsessed people in our family.


She refuses to sink.  Pretty awesome.

love tina fey.

She doesn’t drink (at least red wine) and she will always split an app with you, if you want to order something deep fried.

She sometimes has a really weird sense of humour.  I love it.

How many Social Workers does it take to change a lightbulb? One. But the lightbulb has to WANT to change.

She is going to be one kick ass social worker one day, as long as she can survive her classmates, who I’m pretty sure don’t know how irritating they are to her.

...and don't come back

She’s brave.


For Richer or For Poorer

She gets the ridiculousness of these two.

as a mother...

She calls people out on this stuff. (which I love)

But most of all we just love the crap outta her.
Happy birthday!



Nannying, by j


Sunday night I finished off ten days of taking care of two nine year olds. Their parents has jetted off to the USA for some mountainous adventures and I was given the chance to reap monetary gains by ensuring that homework was done, activities were finished and little ones were fed.

I also learned a great deal. Not only about kidlets, and their care and maintenance but about myself. I learned that while the twins I got to hang with were awesome, I have made the right decision for me to live child free. And that while I don’t think that a parent relationship is in my future, chilling with young ones every once and a while isn’t so bad.

What else did I learn? Well, quite a bit.

1. Hockey practice is boring, the locker room stinks like 30 smelly boys and I’m about as useful in said dressing room as Ann Coulter at the Special Olympics. Thank goodness for hockey parents who are willing to tie a kids skates up for the weak wristed.

2. Actual dance class is nothing like the reality show, Dance Moms. No one is yelling at the kids, the parents are not snarking at one another and the kids are not crying (well, at least not because their teachers are calling them fat or stupid). However, if you do find yourself at Dance Extreme and you get a seat, do NOT get up. A parent will steal it, even if you leave boy twin sitting next to it with your bag and coat holding it while you watch girl twin jete across the floor. What is up with that?


3. Meal planning will take over your your life. As soon as you finish dinner, you will start to plot what to serve up to the kids the next day.

4. Get to know your crock pot. And also, get over your aversion to cream soups, they come in handy.


5. Keep them busy. This will do two things: it will distract them from missing their parents and simultaneously make them believe that you are awesome.

6. Explode some soap. This does two things: gives them a craft to do, as the soap is super fun to play with, and tricks them into washing their hands thoroughly. This works well for boy twin, as he spent the better part of an hour trying to convince me that no matter how hard he tried, the dirt on his hands would never come off. Also helped girl twin, as I accidentally turned her hands purple when doing another craft the night before.


(Seriously, nuke a quarter of a bar of Ivory soap-must be Ivory- for 45 seconds. It will change your world)

7. Take 10 minutes and figure out what you need at a grocery store. Your time is precious and if you’re not careful you will spend your days going back and forth to the grocery store in your lunch break because you run out of bread, milk or other sundries. And for god sakes, never, ever, ever take children into the grocery store or you will be like this down every single aisle:


8. When all else fails, bake. Bake your heart out. It will keep girl twin occupied, and boy twin can be bribed with fresh baked goods. Also, he can watch Star Wars (as he will bug you incessantly about it) and you won’t have to watch with him, and you won’t feel guilty.



9. Take advantage of country living, and check out the Belmont Corn Maze. The kids will love it. However, when the website recommends wearing rubber boots- wear rubber boots. Or this will happen:


However, it will be worth it (even if you do have to throw out your shoes) to see A conquer her bizarro fear of corn fields.


10. Golden retrievers shed like nobody’s business. And as soon as you sweep up,Mr.Murphy will come by and do this:


And expect a belly rub and shed a little more.

11. Be grateful (I mean really grateful) that Beiber Fever didn’t hit the house until 3 hours before the parents returned.

My new(ish) obsession, by a


The air is getting colder, the leaves are turning, and so… it’s time for me to acquire a new tv obsession. Last year, it was CBC’s “Heartland”, with which I had the added bonus of feeling like I was contributing to the advancement of Canadian television. I spent long winter nights running through the series on Netflix while simultaneously picturing my new life as a horse whisperer because it looks so freaking easy.

This year, I have delved even further into obsession and have become fully enthralled in the supernatural clusterf*ck that is ‘The Vampire Diaries”. This is not Canadian television. And I don’t care!

“The Vampire Diaries” takes place in the sleepy town of Mystic Falls, Virginia (not unlike the whimsical Stars Hollow of Gilmore Girls, minus the unrealistic portrayal of teen pregnancy). The hot hangout spot is creatively named “Mystic Grill”, not unlike “The Peach Pit” of Beverly Hills, 90210. I’m beginning to think there is some sort of handbook for teen dramas…

The series revolves around the protagonist, Elena Gilbert, a human girl who falls in love with the new guy that moves into town, Stefan Salvatore. Stefan is a vampire who desperately tries to reject all of the dark and predatory parts that come with being a vampire (think Edward Cullen, but with the ability to socialize and be normal with other people). Season 1 & 2 Stefan is boring and gave me second hand embarrassment; season 3 Stefan is a whole different story (you’re tempted to watch it now, aren’t you? AREN”T YOU!).


Damon Salvatore is Stefan’s older brother who follows Stefan back into town and  their childhood home in Mystic Falls- a place neither brother has been in over 15 years. Damon wears leather jackets. He smirks a lot. He drinks human blood and likes it. Damon Salvatore is a badass. The brothers have a crazy, f*cked up relationship that really should be on an episode of Dr.Phil, and it makes for a cray cray situation when they both fall for Elena.

What comes next, you ask? Werewolves, Originals (the first vampires, EVER), vampire-werewolf hybrids, witches, that guy from “Blue Crush”, paternity scandals, good looking people, lots of crying, people dying then coming back to life, unrealistic portrayals of love and relationships, etc, etc. Oh, it’s good.

I watched the first three seasons online in order to be caught up for the recently premiered fourth season, and the drama keeps a-comin’. I highly recommend this show if only to get you into the Halloween spirit this time of year (and no, it’s not just for tweens, cough*M*cough).

Ta ta for now and may your dreams be filled with Damon Salvatore’s tortured gaze..





To Daniel, by j and a


This post (or plea) is for Daniel, our dad’s carpool buddy and seller of his daughter’s Girl Scout cookies.

Dear Daniel,

We need your help.

A and I are aware that it is Girl Scout cookie time. We are aware because our father, your co-worker and fellow carpooler, told us. Our reaction? Get on it. As in, order a case of delicious Thin Mints.


We love those Thin Mints. A and I prefer to freeze those suckers, because holy heck, that is the only way to eat them.


And we also love those Girl Scouts. They do awesome work like this.

Here’s the deal:

Last night, A came home after a long day of answering phones at her part time job to find partially eaten (and frozen!) Thin Mint next to her laptop. A calculated message from our father, saying that yes, he had ordered some Thin Mints, frozen them how we like them, and had hidden them in our house. After a valiant effort, A and I cannot find said Thin Mints. (And to answer your question, yes. My sister did eat that half eaten cookie. Isn’t that just sad?).

This is driving us crazy. We are busy grad students living with our parents. We don’t have time for this kind of Tom-foolery.

Tonight he came to us while we were watching this movie (finally) and presented A with another half eaten, frozen Thin Mint. (And if you’re wondering again, yes, she ate that one, too.)

He’s an evil, evil man.

You see, he thinks that he is justified because of what happened last year.

A and I share the lower part of the house (I refuse to call it the basement) which houses two of our family’s three freezers. He really shouldn’t have elected to keep them in the freezer last year. the freezer is about ten feet away from where we lay down our heads. Very close for a late night cookie run. Just silly.

However, A and I probably shouldn’t have left the empty Thin Mint boxes in the freezer (the equivalent of the horse head in the bed I suppose) after a series of Thin Mint emergencies*.

It appears that our father is a believer of the thought that “revenge is a dish best served cold”. Or frozen, in this case.

He won’t tell us where the Thin Mints are being hidden. It’s a special kind of torture.

So, Daniel. We need your help. We need the Thin Mints. We are begging you. Please tell us that your sweet kidlets have more to sell.

Because we’re pretty sure the ingredients of those cookies includes this little addition to keep us coming back:


Signed (hungry and confused),

J & A

*Thin Mint Emergency: (def) a moment in time when you really need a cookie (a frozen Thin Mint) and it’s a really rude moment for any parent to question that need. Just give us the damn cookies!

Prost Me Maybe, by j


October is one of my favourite months. It is when fall is officially here, for me. Cooler weather, cozy food, crisp breezes and beautiful trees. And Oktoberfest.


And this October I was also lucky enough to have an awesome friend come back to Ontario after 10+ years on The Rock. So when she decided to come to the KW area it made sense for her to plan her arrival for Oktoberfest, right?


So, I got out of my internship early (no I didn’t tell them it was to drink beer) and drove down to KW to experience Oktoberfest for the third time.

We decided, very hastily five days earlier to check out the Alpine Club. It wasn’t a calculated decision, there were tickets left and I hadn’t been there yet. We called a cab and with hat and feather in hand we were on our way.

The Alpine Club was a bit of an older crowd, but still had plenty of youth hanging about getting their Prost on. But definitely one of the smaller venues. But that didn’t stop the, from churning out the schnitzel and ‘kraut. Or if you’re a vegetarian like Shannon, mashed potatoes and ‘kraut.

Oh, yes. And the beer nuts.


The music was polka-ing, the old folks were dancing (and I did think of that old guy from last year’s Oktoberfest who acted like a sad puppy and got every woman under the age of 25 {including A} to dance with him…) and the beer was a flowin’, making way for these types of fools:


That being said, I do find the Oktoberfest crowd to be quite a friendly bunch, just looking for a good time.

Everyone got very excited to see the Alpine dancers. I didn’t think it would be too exciting. I’ve seen them before, and I remember them just dancing real slow with those “A” props meant to look like a mountain, I think. But then I learned that when your at the Alpine Club, you get a little extra:


Oh, yes. They chopped some wood. To music. My fave was that young kid in charge of stabilizing the log with his foot. I would have freaked out.

And the night was full of brushes with celebrity. By 10pm a zydeco band arrived with Miss Oktoberfest, a couple of mayors and the marshalls of Oktoberfest, the stars of some garbage show, “Canadian Pickers”, Uncle Hans and Ziggy and Zaggy. And then they tapped a keg. It was exciting.

And we got to see the new video for Oktoberfest that a bunch of dirndl and lederhosen wearing kids made. Yes, the “Call Me Maybe” parodies are a bit much now, but the “Prost Me Maybe” isn’t so bad.

We made our way back to Shannon’s empty apartment at a decent hour as I had to leave at 7am to get to work for 9am the next day. Did I mention that I forgot to make sure that the air mattress I had brought had a working pump?

Here’s my review of Shannon’s floor: It’s hard as fuck and will mess up your back if you try to sleep on it with no mattress. Oh, and it makes a day full of paperwork and playing with five year olds a bit of a bitch. (Sidenote: I would sleep on a hard floor for very few people. Shannon, you are the shit. Thanks for the tablecloth that kept me warm, as I slept on top of my sleeping bag).

All in all a very successful night, next year will be bigger and better. I vote we tackle the granddaddy of Oktoberfest festhallen, The Concordia Club (the birthplace of KW Oktoberfest according to our cabbie). Who’s in?