Can you believe this? I visited the lovely Astarte last night and not only does she give me delicious, homemade, chocolate chip cookies (my favourite snack in the world), but she also hands me a pile of Steve Irwin valentines! Who the hell has Steve Irwin valentines on their person?

Astarte, apparently.

Anyway, she figured since I wanted Chemgineer to get drunk enough to use the late Croc Hunter's expressions, I would get a kick out of them in boxed love note form. I heart me that Astarte. She's kooky, but thoughtful. And like I've said before: anyone who can tolerate me as a friend for several years deserves a medal. And a latte, which I provided (I buy people off with designer coffee. It's my way of making sure my social life maintains a pulse, however weak it may get at times).

There are a whole whack of these valentines. She kept half and gave me the other half. I'm thinking these will be great collector's items in a few years. How cool are they?



A long time ago, I decided that Gutsy was, in fact, Steve Irwin's love child. He had to be; they look so much alike! I don't know exactly how, when or, frankly, why I would sleep with the Croc Hunter, but I guess it was those fly shorts he used to wear - even in Antartica. That's my kind of man! I had a split screen picture of the two of them up on a website once and people couldn't get over the resemblance. I'll see if I can dig it up someday when I have nothing to do (in about 18 years, I guess).


Today was Gutsy's Christmas party. It was also Intrepid's, so we did the overscheduled North American family shuffle: I went to one party and Geekster to the other. I saw the video footage of Intrepid's class' skit and it made a mother proud. In contrast, my sweet Gutsy had no interest in singing in front of all these strangers with cameras, so he popped in and out of the recital to hang out with me in the audience. He did, however, have great fun decorating the tree. He also jumped back into the action when they were given instruments to play while they sang. He also picked his nose. Now at least a dozen people have my son on camera sticking a finger up his nostril while shaking a tambourine with the other hand. That's my boy!


Then Santa came and tried to eat Gutsy.

No, seriously. That picture is the reason phobias ever see the light of day. Is that not bloody terrifying?!



Spawnling was none too phased when it came to Satan Claws. That's because in this picture he's about two minutes away from defiling his Christmas outfit in an explosive episode down below. I ran to the bathroom at the first sign of impending leakage, but it was too late. The little green and grey stripped pants now had large yellow splotches on the back. Classy.

And, in true 'This could only happen to The Maven' fashion, it came to light that the only outfit I had in the diaper bag was his Hallowe'en sleeper. The one with all the bright orange pumpkins on it? Yeah, that one. The one that is so two months ago. Way to go, me. I couldn't even have a neutral outfit. I had to go all themes today. So my child wore a pumpkin outfit at a Christmas party. I'm an unintentional trend setter, that's all.

When we got to the party, I was reminded by the teachers that the items I ordered from the preschool's fundraiser had come in and not to forget them on my way out.

We left at 12:30.

I got home, changed into some track pants and a huge, white t-shirt, took off my socks, put my feet up, brewed some coffee...

At 2:12pm I suddenly realized that I had left all the gifts there. That thing I wasn't supposed to do? And now the school was shut down for Christmas and wouldn't open again until January 8th.

I subsequently let out the longest string of cursewords to ever come out of my mouth as I frantically flipped through the phone book and found the school's number. Luckily, the teachers were just getting their coats on and agreed to wait for me.

I didn't know I could get myself, a two-month-old and a four-year-old out of the house in full winter gear that fast. I wish I could have had Guiness time it.

Screw that. I wish someone from Guiness could have picked up my items for me instead. It would have saved me the hassle. But, they're hear, they're wrapped and ready to go. Horray!

Now I have to go fill my child's belly with faux-banana-scented antibiotics. Why, oh why, do they give it that neon yellow colour anyway? Do they not realize that it always reaches the clothing despite our best efforts?

Needless to say, the Spawn is still in his pumpkin outfit. I may be forgetful, but stupid I ain't.