tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48576756540505521832023-11-16T07:59:47.767+00:00Strangers in a normal landStrange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-27493746766437074772010-07-15T16:18:00.000+01:002010-07-15T16:18:49.183+01:00Back. And moving.So I think I'm finally back. But I'm moving. Over to Wordpress. I would love to give a really good explanation but honestly, it's because they have an app for my iphone and Blogger doesn't. Sad but true. As for where I've been and why I'm back, well you'll just have to hop over to Wordpress and find out. I hope to see you there. I know I look forward to reading your blogs again.<br />
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Strangemamma<br />
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<a href="http://strangersinnormal.wordpress.com">My new blog</a>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-13526949329036384102009-10-10T22:25:00.000+01:002009-10-10T22:25:24.902+01:00Six Word Saturday<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a><br />
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Baby B is 5 weeks old!Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-28222647551121616192009-10-08T15:45:00.000+01:002009-10-08T15:45:00.514+01:005 weeksThe medical profession is funny. Even though we've only known about it since Sunday and even though it only happened on the 17th of last month (yes, actually I do know the exact day), if someone were to ask me how far along I was today, I'd be able to tell them, "5 weeks!"<br />
<br />
I'll let that sink in for a minute.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"><b>I'm pregnant!!!</b></span><br />
<br />
Okay, so quick preggers math for those of you who aren't as week-obsessed: Pregnancy is considered 40 weeks, not from the whole <strike>sperm</strike> boy meets <strike>egg</strike> girl part, but from the first date of your last cycle. Which is weird because it's like being pregnant for two weeks before there was even a<strike>n</strike> <strike>egg</strike> girl to meet the <strike>sperm</strike> boy. Science is just fun like that.<br />
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But back to the whole miracle thing!<br />
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Jeff and I know that it's not really considered good form to tell the world so soon because "something may happen". And we know, we do. I have had too many friends who have lost pregnancies early on not to be painfully aware of that. But here's the thing. I'm pregnant! And that in itself is such an awesome miracle that we can't help but shout it from the rooftops. We did tell a few close friends and family right away (we called the parents at 4 in the morning but that's another story) and asked them to pray for us. We so appreciate you all for doing that and we covet your prayers still. But we realized that, A) we're just not that fearful, certainly much less than last time, and B) no matter what the outcome, we want everyone to know what an Awesome God we serve! I have PCOS. Jeff also had some issues. Those two things together makes Asher a total miracle even with the medical intervention. So to have us, here, now, pregnant, ON OUR OWN!! is absolutely a gift from God. <br />
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We're due June 10th, 2010. Asher will be a week (or so) past 26 months when he becomes the big brother we have long dreamed of him becoming. We are very excited, joyful, freaked, ecstatic, hopeful, blessed, amazed, and generally in awe. We can't quite believe it at times, but there it is. I wrote in my journal a few days after we got the news that I was pregnant with Asher, "No matter what, no one will ever be able to take this away from me. I am pregnant." And it definitely feels that way this time as well. I am just so unbelievably blessed. My God is a great big God and He holds us in His hands.<br />
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*Okay, we didn't actually call our parents at 4am <b><i>their</i></b> time, it was like 8pm and 9pm their time, so stop shaking your finger at me. The day I was going to take the pregnancy test, we were woken up just before 4am by the people across the street declaring their undying hatred of each other at the top of their lungs. I'm not kidding, the windows were closed and I could hear every word. Ugh. Anyway, I figured that that was my morning pee and I may as well get it over with (I'm notorious for being a day or two late, testing, and then immediately getting my period). Only it was positive. Jeff had come down, too and made a mention that our parents would likely be up, so we decided to go ahead and call. There. Happy now?Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-65110520010142918772009-09-30T15:21:00.001+01:002009-09-30T15:21:52.651+01:00Why post when you can comment? (and the 2nd installment of a Little Brit Different)<div style="text-align: justify;">I should totally just copy what I write in people's comments and put them here as a post. I'm way wittier and I do it more often. I really am working on getting my life in order. It seems like this month has just been a total wash. But new month tomorrow, right? Jeff's birthday is coming up and I'm looking forward to maybe even having a babysitter so we can <strike>have a meal by ourselves for once</strike> celebrate in style. More on that to come.<br />
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And now, for something...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoDM889TGsyn13cUrfhO517gJe-0aSflbY84qhEFFIMzOub4jbQkJN-uIWdd34qh3RoVfpL-ABbz_FRKIfACWt3LE93QE9rV4jA1HJ-cQLIzfXeeLjypg5EKrsZSHqrZQkZ_XBTdaEkA/s1600-h/britdifferent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoDM889TGsyn13cUrfhO517gJe-0aSflbY84qhEFFIMzOub4jbQkJN-uIWdd34qh3RoVfpL-ABbz_FRKIfACWt3LE93QE9rV4jA1HJ-cQLIzfXeeLjypg5EKrsZSHqrZQkZ_XBTdaEkA/s320/britdifferent.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Jeff and I saw this the other day at the grocery store and I wish I'd stopped to take a picture, but I fear I was gawping a little too long to long and the lady had gone into the store. Apparently it's not such a big deal to have an infant in the front seat of a vehicle here. And it's not like this was only a 2-seater, there was more than enough room in the back to put the carseat. And it's not like this was an older child, this was an infant in a rear-facing carry seat thingy. And it's not like this was an older car with no airbag up front, it was a swank, new model, silver BMW. I really hope my jaw didn't make too loud a noise as it hit the ground. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">*Okay, so I just looked up UK child seat law and apparently it is actually illegal to put a rear-facing child seat in the front IF there is an active airbag. Who knows, maybe she can turn hers off, or maybe she's just wildly mis-informed. But on another interesting note, with the exception of rear-facing, it is totally legal to put a child in any other kind of seat in the front as long as they're properly restrained. (For non-North-Americans or childless folks, you can't put a child in the front seat until they're 12 years old or a certain height/weight in North America)<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">**Please don't think I'm saying that people on this side of the pond are all heartless people putting their children in mortal danger (although in the case of a rear-facing child seat in a possible air-bag zone I'm tempted), I actually find it refreshing to be in a place with significantly less <strike>paranoia</strike> <strike>fear</strike> caution. And I have to say, given a drive through the country with just Asher and I, I would be tempted to move him to the front seat so I can interact with him more and perhaps be able to give him food and/or drink without completely dislocating my shoulder and trying to watch the road and child behind me at the same time, which, come to think of it, is likely the most dangerous bit right there.<br />
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</div>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-56398807765616214252009-09-21T09:23:00.002+01:002009-09-22T07:58:21.779+01:00In MemoriumOn friday we got the call, my husband's Oma (dutch for grandma) was quickly declining in health. She had stopped eating and drinking and it was expected to be only a matter of time. Family was encouraged to come right away if they could. We got Jeff a flight out Sunday afternoon and as much as we would have liked to have all gone together, it would have been very costly and Asher has been suffering from a bad cold and I imagine a nine hour flight would have been very hard on him (and everyone else).<br />
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As we were getting ready to leave for the airport, we got the next call. Oma had passed away early that morning. My heart aches for my dear husband and his parents who were still on the road, trying to get there to say one last goodbye. I took the call as he was getting Little Man dressed. That is news I never wanted to give. He was crushed, angry at himself for not taking an earlier flight. We had looked at a flight on Saturday, but the plan would have been to stay with my dad in Calgary that night anyway and ride to Stettler with his parents the next day. He still wouldn't have made it. But it's easier to do anything than feel the sharp pain of loss. As for me, I did everything I could to focus on taking care of him and Little Man so that I wouldn't have to look at my own pain at this loss.<br />
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Oma was quite the fiesty lady. Her favourite word was 'bullshit'. And it perfectly described how she approached life. Not much was worth fussing over, most of it was just bullshit. She loved to make sure you didn't take yourself too seriously with a gentle ribbing and a wink as she laughed at you. She was the first of Jeff's family that I met. Her apartment was warm and full of mementos of Holland (where she was born) and pictures of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She always offered you a drink and something sweet. And by drink, I mean drink, no matter what the time of day. She loved advocat or a rye and seven. Advocat, for those who may not know (I know I didn't), is a banana liqueur and wow is it strong. My first experience with it was a shot she insisted I take. I think the next time she was more gentle with me and just insisted on some chocolates with advocat in them ;).<br />
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<blockquote> *edit: my husband informed me that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advocaat">advocat</a> is an egg liqueur. woops. well, it was yellow and the chocolates with advocat were shaped like bananas. maybe that time it really was banana liqueur. hmmm. all I know is that it was midday, very strong, and Oma was kind enough to simply chuckle at my watering eyes.<br />
</blockquote><br />
I like to think she liked me. Maybe because I didn't treat her with trepidation, I was very close to my Grannie and never felt that generation gap. Maybe because I laughed along with her ribbing. Maybe because I laughed when she used her 'favourite word' and cluck disapprovingly (I hear that happened often). Maybe just because I loved her grandson who she had recently become so close to.<br />
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I remember one trip, we wanted to take her out for lunch. So we asked her if there was a place she liked especially and we would take her there for lunch the next day. She told us and off we went. I couldn't remember why it sounded familiar until we got there. It was a chain in a mall food court. At first, we felt bad because we had wanted to take her to a real reastaurant, but it was where she wanted to go and I think maybe she did it on purpose. The food court was a place she went regularly and knew several people on our way and walking through the mall. I think maybe she wanted to be seen out with her grandson.<br />
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As much as I wish I could be there to say goodbye and be there for my husband during this time, I am very grateful that he is able to be there. Oma will be greatly missed.<br />
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</div>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-32365660771874658532009-09-16T05:00:00.002+01:002009-09-16T05:00:03.600+01:00Back on the horse and The Failure of Dr. Google.A couple months ago (was it that long? I could look it up, but...nah) I had the opportunity to guest post for <a href="http://cbethblog.blogspot.com/">cbethblog</a>. I was truly honored as hers was one of the first blogs I started following almost a year ago when all this began (again, wow, has it been that long?). So, as I try to get back on the horse, I'm starting slow and using a guest post from the lovely C. Beth:<br />
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<blockquote><span style="color: #990000;">The Failure of Dr. Google</span></blockquote><blockquote>Recently Zoodle, my 17-month-old son, got a diaper rash. I think it started as a reaction to his diaper brand. It then turned into hives, and then settled into a slightly itchy, red rash that just wouldn't go away. Then he got red bumps on his tummy, face, and legs. <br />
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So I did what any mom would do--I used Google to find descriptions and photos of rashes. Okay, maybe that's not what any mom would do. A lot of moms would go to the doctor. But I really wanted to figure it out. We live in the U.S. and have a high deductible health insurance policy, and I just didn't love the idea of spending $80 to get a rash checked out.<br />
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My conclusion from looking at the rash photos was that the red bumps were due to a heat rash. I hoped Dr. Google's diagnosis had been correct, as I looked for treatment information. I read that one thing I <span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br />
<div class="ii gt" id=":155"><wbr></wbr>shouldn't do was put any oily lotions on him, since that can make heat rash worse. Instead, I should use baby powder and give him plenty of naked time.<br />
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I followed Dr. Google's instructions. The rash persisted.<br />
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Finally, I gave in and called my doctor's office. They got him in that day, and I found out that Zoodle did not have heat rash; he had eczema.<br />
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Here's the thing--eczema treatment is pretty much the opposite of heat rash treatment. No need for powder, since that can dry the skin more. I was told to use oily petroleum jelly to lubricate the skin. And I got a prescription some fantastic steroid cream to help clear it up too. Soon after implementing our doctor's recommendations, Zoodle's rash was well on its way to clearing up.<br />
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That's when I realized--Google can lead me to a lot of answers, but Dr. Google doesn't take the place of our family doctor. Nothing online can replace an experienced doctor looking at my child, hearing his history, and making a diagnosis. It was an important lesson to learn.<br />
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Now, I'll still use the Internet when I have medical questions. Sometimes I find great, easy answers to our problems just by doing a quick search. But next time I have an issue that stumps me, hopefully it won't take me quite as long to call the person who actually went to medical school--no offense to Dr. Google.</div></blockquote><br />
With any luck, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled program shortly. <br />
<blockquote></blockquote>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-49944174901968687402009-09-11T09:57:00.000+01:002009-09-11T09:57:57.524+01:00Umm....yeah....You know when you mean to call someone, but you put it off and put it off and it gets later and later and you think of all the reasons you can give as to why it took you so long to call but the longer you leave it the more pathetic those excuses seem and you don't really want to face it so you put it off some more...yeah, it's kinda like that.<br />
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I seem to only be able to blog when things are pretty much going okay. When I get overwhelmed by stuff or long buried crap comes up I seem to just kind of shut down and don't want to really talk to anyone. Apparently including all my bloggy friends. And there a few of you out there that I do consider friends, or at least friends in the making. I wish I could say life's just been busy but I it hasn't. I can't even say that I haven't had much to say lately but there's been a ton of crap running around inside my head, but none of it wants to come out. It just all sounds pathetic and self-serving to me. <br />
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Even this I didn't want to write, but either I am going to keep up with this blogging thing or I'm not and I have missed it. I do have a lot of non-crappy things that I could have blogged about but I seem to not be able to do fluff when life isn't feeling fluffy.<br />
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Most of you, I've kept up with, I just haven't had much to say in the way of comments either. I'll be back soon, I'm sure. Just a little note to say I'm not dead.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-77035982721758698212009-09-02T09:10:00.000+01:002009-09-02T09:10:26.808+01:00Completely derailedOkay, so I should really start blogging about upcoming things <i>before</i> they happen that way you know that when I disappear for a week at a time it's because my Dad has suddenly arrived in town and besides the whole stress of not really knowing what to expect on a visit because we very rarely spend time together, Asher is in our room and is very loud at night, <i>and</i> Dad is (unbeknownst to me) totally into the whole touristy thing and I've been run a bit ragged since Saturday and haven't even had the energy to keep my eyes open long enough to read blogs let alone write one of my own. It has been going surprisingly well, though, Asher absolutely adores his Grandpa (mind you, he never gets so much attention from his parents) but I am exhausted. Dad leaves tomorrow morning and then I'm coming home to nap. I'll catch up and post comments soon and be back with you all by the weekend.<br />
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In the meantime, Happy Humpday.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-64574637621745516832009-08-24T17:18:00.000+01:002009-08-24T17:18:37.530+01:00Check out the Strange FitI have been mulling this around my brain pan for a couple weeks now and I finally sat down today and set it up (much to the consternation of a certain small child). I have started a new blog. It is called <a href="http://strangefit.blogspot.com/">Strange Fit</a>. I've been really wanting to get into shape. Not just talk about it, not just dream about it, not just sigh longingly at clothing stores that don't carry plus sizes, but actually do it. I've realized though that, left to myself, I run out of steam way too quickly. I recently got the EA Sports Active for the Wii and 3 workouts shy of completing my first 30 day challenge, I ran out of steam. I got all blah and didn't do my exercise one day. And the next. And the next. And the next. Insert depression here. I want to get out of this rut. Obviously the way I've been doing things results in, well, not doing things. So it's time for a change.<br />
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I have in my mind how cool this site could be, with recipes and tips for eating right and drinking more water and all that fun stuff. I also want to do reviews of different kinds of exercise and how easy/hard they are to incorporate into every day life. Right now, my main source of exercise (apart from previously mentioned small child) is my Sports Active on Wii. I know there are a few of you out there who have this program as well. Whether you're doing the 30 day challenge or not, I'd love to get together and share tips and frustrations. We could even share custom workouts. Eventually I hope to be able to do some fitness related give-aways. <br />
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So come on over. Check it out. Tell your friends. I'm totally open to suggestions and guest posters and maybe even team members.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-7528381814904586112009-08-22T08:32:00.002+01:002009-08-22T08:39:46.769+01:00Six Word Saturday<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Birthday BBBQ! Birthday BBQ! Birthday BBQ!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Okay, so I cheated. But only a little. And I do have every right to be excited about it. Especially since I went to bed early feeling poopy and my wonderful Rocket Scientist stayed up until midnight cleaning up and tidying the house. (then to add insult to injury, Asher woke up just as he was coming to bed and because we're trying to go without the paci it took 2 hours to put him to sleep and then, just as he was crawling into bed, Asher came to my side of the bed to see if it was morning yet and it took me another hour before he finally fell asleep for the night. whew. bright side is that he slept in until 7:30 this morning. So I suppose my 6 words could have been 'without paci Little Man doesn't sleep')<br /></div></div>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-54793523012477937052009-08-19T14:17:00.002+01:002009-08-19T14:43:24.470+01:00On Turning 34Okay. Yes. I am now 34. I have never really been bothered by birthdays. Excited usually. It's always been a celebration and on occasion it has stuck out as a 'milestone' year. <br /><br />Sweet 16. <br /><br />18 made me legal in Alberta. <br /><br />19 made me legal in neighboring provinces. <br /><br />20 was just plain cool. 21 made me legal pretty much everywhere. <br /><br />25 was another cool one, for a lot of reasons. It was the turn of the century. And I was in Africa. I woke up on the beach in Mozambique for that one. <br /><br />26 was a little depressing, partly because it meant I was on my way to 30 and partly because I wasn't in Africa anymore and I missed it terribly. <br /><br />29 was exciting because I was getting married that year. <br /><br />30 didn't freak me out as much as I thought it would. It was kind of fun. I was starting to feel like an adult, we had just moved to Chicago, I got a ferret! <br /><br />31, meh, I just didn't think much about it. <br /><br />33 was my first birthday as a Mom! <br /><br />And now here we are. 34. Feeling a little old...er. I'm not sure why this year is bothering me. Perhaps because the novelty of feeling like an adult is wearing off. No. That's not right. Honestly I still always feel like everyone's looking at me like I'm 16 when in a room full of women. I have no idea why that is. I have issues. I think The Rocket Scientist has worried that I'll be sad because we're not having a big party with loads of friends. We had that last year, and it was great. It's not really bothering me, though. I mostly look forward to doing birthday stuff with Jeff. Sorry everyone, it's not that I don't love you. <br /><br />But this year...I'm feeling the year. I'm more aware of time. How quickly it's moving. I'm more aware of how not in shape I am. How it seems much harder to regain a shape that I don't mind looking at. <br /><br />On the other hand, I may just be hormonal. I am after all, ovulating. Ha! Betcha didn't think I could milk that for more, didja!<br /><br />But don't let my whinging bother you. I really am very blessed this year. As I am every year. I have a wonderful, loyal, attentive, passionate husband and an adorable, giggling, brilliant, cuddly, awesome son. Happy Birthday to me!Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-6343912583435832672009-08-17T14:26:00.003+01:002009-08-17T14:44:39.315+01:00And now for something...A little Brit differentOkay, I am going to be totally upfront and say that I did not think of that terribly witty turn of phrase on my own. We are big Doctor Who fans in this house and made sure that every cable package we had back in the States included BBC America. I don't know if they said that before <span style="font-style: italic;">every</span> program (that would have gotten old really fast), but they did say it before Doctor Who and/or Torchwood and it would always bring with it a little twinge of excitement because it meant we were getting our 'fix'.<br /><br />I am now completely unashamedly stealing that phrase for my own blogging purposes. I think I'm pretty safe in this. But if I get several hundred more followers, I may have to change the name as a preemptive strike against litigation. (I have always wanted to idly fit that into conversation).<br /><br />So without further ado, here is my first installment of:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffDg5T_mQM-QGz9Kukf_9gtYqNlWTxBAOqEIvZyFD85i984vOdneHPp7Oi2ANcCloikxSewN7GCOIArfZsrhbwaeVARDOzwjVoRwMU3iCabgP_xwmgD2Al4d5gAZ3nMwvVri9xoq6WMY/s1600-h/britdifferent.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffDg5T_mQM-QGz9Kukf_9gtYqNlWTxBAOqEIvZyFD85i984vOdneHPp7Oi2ANcCloikxSewN7GCOIArfZsrhbwaeVARDOzwjVoRwMU3iCabgP_xwmgD2Al4d5gAZ3nMwvVri9xoq6WMY/s320/britdifferent.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370925908522910738" border="0" /></a><br />Everyone asks, "How do you find driving on the 'wrong' side of the road?" Honestly, you get used to it. For one thing, you're expecting it. You know, coming here, that you're going to be driving on a different side, getting in the other side of the car, trying to remember which direction to look when you cross the street. You're prepared so it doesn't take too long to make the adjustment. It's the little things that no one ever tells you about, that you're totally unprepared for, that go a long way towards making you aware of the fact that common language or no, you are in a foreign country.<br /><br />So here's on thing I noticed that is different on this side of the pond. Light switches go in the opposite direction. In North America, you click the light switch up to turn it on and down for off. Here it's down to turn it on and up to turn it off. I know, right? Who would think to warn you about stuff like that? I would. That's right, I got your back.<br /><br />By the way, my inspiration for starting this is <a href="http://www.britgalusa.com/2009/08/brit-word-of-day_11.html">Brit Gal in the USA</a> and her Brit Word of the Day.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-1533473210265984422009-08-15T17:58:00.001+01:002009-08-15T17:58:31.685+01:00Six Word Saturday<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I am an IKEA queen, yo!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Let's just say our house is starting to remind me just a little bit of Fight Club. Or at least Asher's room does. Bet you just can't wait to see pictures.<br /></div></div></div>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-8551491868652442992009-08-13T11:13:00.003+01:002009-08-13T11:40:27.329+01:00What energy?So I was pretty sure that I had posted something recently about having tons of energy. I'm still pretty sure I did, I can almost see/hear/feel the sentence I typed but I can't find it. Honestly I didn't look really hard, I just sort of scanned the last few posts and went, 'Meh. Too many words.' and gave up. I'm not really sure if it was just the post about being so productive/busy because I was anxious about my appointment, but I could have sworn I told you about the whole Wii Active thing. Ringing any bells? Maybe? Well, whatever. Let me start again.<br /><br />When I was in Canada, I picked up Sports Active for the Wii. I love it. Doing the 30 Day Challenge. Some days it's not bad, other days it totally kicks my butt, but every day I sweat buckets so that's gotta be good, right? Anyway, a strange side effect that we've noticed is that I have a boat load of energy lately. I know. Weird. A side effect of all this energy however, seems to be that every time I sit down to write a post, I think of something else that needs to be done/picked up/washed/dried/folded/put away/played with, etc. So I've had all these posts run through my head and then run right out again. Apparently nothing has affected my concentration. Poop.<br /><br />Oh, well. But I ask for your patience while I figure out how to incoporate all this actual 'doing' and 'keeping up with chores' stuff into my day which was previously filled with 'reading blogs', 'trying to be witty in posts', and 'just one more episode of <strike>Thomas</strike> <strike>Lazytown</strike> <strike>Pooh</strike> Lie to Me'. I will figure out how to do it all. Why are you lauging? Stop that!<br /><br />I have to say though, that my lack of presence the last few days is because, wait for it....<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Asher is sleeping through the night!!!</span><br /><br />Yes, it would be thrilling if that didn't come with....<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Asher is getting up at 5:30!!!</span><br /><br />Yup, every morning. Sometimes, like today, he mixes things up and gets up at 5:05. It does not matter what time he goes down, 6:30 or 8:30 or anywhere inbetween, he is up by 5:30. And thanks to our brilliant idea of graduating him to a big boy bed, he just walks into our room and announces that it is now morning and why haven't you fed me yet?<br /><br />So we're trying something new. We, as gently as possible, say that Mommy and Daddy are sleeping and would you please go back to your room and play. I even taught him how to turn on his lamp so he could get out his toys and play. Seriously, we should put cameras up and sell it to the networks, the comedy that is us trying gently to explain to a 16 month old that Mommy and Daddy are sleeping and he should go entertain himself.<br /><br />No. You <span style="font-style: italic;">cannot</span> remind me of this when he is 16 and I can't drag him out of bed in the morning with a team of wild horses.<br /><br />And really, 'team' of wild horses? Isn't that a bit of an oxymoron? Have I mentioned how much caffeine I've had already this morning? No? Well, that's cause I don't remember. It's been a lot. But now I've got to go get my work out in before Asher wakes up.<br /><br />I leave you with a reminder of how cute he really is despite his attempts to drive me insane, and a lovely rose from our back garden for us to all stop and 'smell' and relax a little. It is summer after all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDEOAPFxd3XDUqZf3iHh3NtEI4tHVHTzuhvPMXSBBz-cVo5luLGgvG4eGtANAvSFibHPxLkp5WmTFnWN-vrvlK7rpjwHV6kcsiQ5zlJKWXyIlKPj5PQPNsLgDR4nh9Ee8tiA6bolwGF0o/s1600-h/SDC11619.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDEOAPFxd3XDUqZf3iHh3NtEI4tHVHTzuhvPMXSBBz-cVo5luLGgvG4eGtANAvSFibHPxLkp5WmTFnWN-vrvlK7rpjwHV6kcsiQ5zlJKWXyIlKPj5PQPNsLgDR4nh9Ee8tiA6bolwGF0o/s400/SDC11619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369396245210945378" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9yHcMYA7I4opluQfknL8Cp9L3XYwkvGLkNbBui9rZeGxz_LHNF7NexK3Jd3jl7irH3NWcTOug_gy0YJRohv0xyNLRgYSHKxDNvJleLa29bwXHHa81Xbut3if98xaZX7V85OXo95pj3s/s1600-h/SDC11554.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9yHcMYA7I4opluQfknL8Cp9L3XYwkvGLkNbBui9rZeGxz_LHNF7NexK3Jd3jl7irH3NWcTOug_gy0YJRohv0xyNLRgYSHKxDNvJleLa29bwXHHa81Xbut3if98xaZX7V85OXo95pj3s/s400/SDC11554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369396214910293170" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvdUfyRrziQaYwgT-6GBzMKtB6ofQDWgdo7zSU434BQLUibVzt6wjEm0soymaNP5wKmOXL1owFUACYoc3BBgOBUHuFJmSlfsIuvkwn6oxuWmvt4E5ZCflFMWLzhym6DBfaDsWJDs6SZCU/s1600-h/SDC11557.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvdUfyRrziQaYwgT-6GBzMKtB6ofQDWgdo7zSU434BQLUibVzt6wjEm0soymaNP5wKmOXL1owFUACYoc3BBgOBUHuFJmSlfsIuvkwn6oxuWmvt4E5ZCflFMWLzhym6DBfaDsWJDs6SZCU/s400/SDC11557.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369396186569071922" border="0" /></a>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-85894316776056993162009-08-09T10:12:00.000+01:002009-08-09T10:12:36.875+01:00Friends in the BlogosphereLast week a friend of mine joined me in the blogosphere. Now she's been writing forever and has had a blog or two in her time, but this particular blog is new. Go check her out, she has a way of looking at the everyday in a new way. I'm also thrilled because today, she quoted from my Mom's book, <a href="http://www.stephenshousepress.com/Book%20Store.htm">'Who's Flying this Plane'</a>.<br /><br />Hope you all have a good Sunday, and happy reading:<br /><br /><a href="http://outoftheextraordinary.blogspot.com/2009/08/welcome-to-family.html">Out of the Extraordinary: Welcome to the family</a>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-80695506439750940492009-08-06T14:10:00.001+01:002009-08-06T14:11:40.808+01:00Slices of BeautyI came across this blog today. I think through <a href="http://www.britgalusa.com/">Brit Gal in the USA</a>. She just left a simple comment and I checked out her blog. She had collections of various photos depicting different kinds of beauty. I liked the posts I saw, she seemed to be drawn to very similar things as me as far as seeing beauty went. So I decided to follow her and see what else she came up with. Just some nice pictures to brighten up my day. And then this post came up:<br /><br /><a href="http://goldsnowdrops.blogspot.com/2009/08/greek-retreat-thank-you.html">Slices of Beauty...: A Greek Retreat + A Thank You...</a><br /><br />There is now a new standard for beauty in houses as far as I'm concerned. A lot of people commented on Greece and wow wouldn't I like to go there. I've been to Greece, it's fine, but this house is beyond. Just the sense of cool, refreshing, calm that emanates from each picture, made my heart ache just a little.<br /><br />If my Rocket Scientist is ever asking around for something that I might like for my birthday or Christmas or our anniversary, if he built me this house, he would never have to get me anything. ever. again. for as long as I lived. Which would be a really long time in such a peaceful place, let me tell you.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-90359528002572926872009-08-06T12:08:00.002+01:002009-08-06T12:22:16.268+01:00Check me out! I'm a <a href="http://cbethblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/guest-blogger-heather.html">guest blogger</a>!<br /><br />A while back I wrote a blog for Beth and she's finally able to take that vacation so there I am on <a href="http://cbethblog.blogspot.com">Musings of happy mommy</a>, with my own musings. What fun!<br /><br />I actually wrote the body of that post several weeks before she asked for submissions and had it just sitting in my written but not edited or posted box. So I edited it sent it to her. It's actually one of my favourite pieces. I think because I came about it so differently. I wasn't sitting down 'to write a post', I just had some thoughts in my head that I wanted to get out so I could possibly use them later. And of course it includes a picture of my Little Man. Always worth a check.<br /><br />I hope you enjoy my post and be sure to stick around and check out C. Beth when she returns. She's one of the first bloggers that I started following way back when and she's one of the first I check on when I'm going about my daily read.<br /><br />As for me, I'm off to chase my ever-increasingly energetic 16-month old. He's had a cold the past few days and is starting to feel better and I think is going a bit stir crazy from the lack of acitivity lately. Me too. Off to find a park.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-55538961498492902592009-08-05T16:39:00.002+01:002009-08-05T18:41:54.009+01:00Brown Bread - It's named after its colorOkay, I have never done this before. I have seen others do it though, so I'm pretty sure it will be okay.<br /><br />I'm going to share a recipe.<br /><br />It's nothing ground breaking. Just bread. Brown bread from back when they named it after the color as opposed to the whole wheat content. It might be more appropriate to call it a molasses bread. I got this recipe from my aunt. I think she may have gotten it from Grannie, her mom. It's handwritten so I don't even know if it was once in a book or not. I'm sure my mom will leave a comment correcting me on its origin, all I know is that it is truly yummy bread. A bit dense, cuts like a dream, toasts wonderfully to go with a nice hot cuppa.<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">In <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 cup of warm water</span> dissolve <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 tsp honey</span> and then add <span style="font-weight: bold;">2 tbsp yeast</span>. Set aside <span style="font-weight: bold;">10 minutes</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Melt</span>: together <span style="font-weight: bold;">1/2 cup of boiling water</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">2 tbsp shortening</span> and pour into your mixing bowl<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Add</span>: <span style="font-weight: bold;">1/4 cup honey</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">1/4 cup molasses</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Add</span>: <span style="font-weight: bold;">1/2 cup milk</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 beaten egg</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 tsp salt</span>, and <span style="font-weight: bold;">yeast mixture</span>. Stir well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Add</span>: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Flour</span> - approx. <span style="font-weight: bold;">6 cups</span> to make a soft, light dough. Turn out and <span style="font-weight: bold;">knead</span> for <span style="font-weight: bold;">8 minutes</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Let Rise</span>: in a <span style="font-weight: bold;">greased bowl</span>, covered, for <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 hour</span> (150 degree F warmth)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shape</span>: into <span style="font-weight: bold;">2 loaves</span>, place in a <span style="font-weight: bold;">greased pans</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Let Rise</span>: <span style="font-weight: bold;">1 hour</span> covered<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bake</span>: at <span style="font-weight: bold;">400</span> degrees for <span style="font-weight: bold;">10 minutes</span>, then at <span style="font-weight: bold;">375</span> degrees for <span style="font-weight: bold;">20 minutes</span>.<br />(cover tops with foil if they get too dark)<br /></span></blockquote><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*</span>Now, I said it was a bit dense, but I think that's because I had two issues with letting it rise. I don't think it was warm enough, and my mixing bowl wasn't big enough. I was having trouble getting all 6 cups mixed in because of the size of my bowl and then I don't think it really let the dough have enough room to rise. Does anyone have tricks to share with me on a warm enough place to let bread rise? I've heard put it over the burner that the oven vents through, but I have a glass cooktop and no vent. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">**</span>Second amendment. I am currently living in the UK and I could not find molasses so I used treacle. I only used about 2/3rds of what was called for thinking that it would be too strong, but I don't' think it was. I would edge toward using the full 1/4 cup next time.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">***</span>Third note. This is for UK folk as well. Everyone may know this already, but it was news to me. Shortening is Cookeen in this country.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">****</span>Final mention. The yeast I use calls for it to be mixed with salt at the very beginning. But since the recipe added salt later, I left it out of the initial yeast mix and it turned out very well. I think it would have been too salty if I'd added what the yeast jar had called for.<br /><br />I have tried a few bread recipes now and they just keep getting better. This one in particular was lovely to me because it tasted like my childhood. I was very pleased that my Little Man enjoys it as well. He had a slice or two as a snack, no butter, no jam, just the bread and he gobbled it up.<br /><br />Let me know if you try this. I'd love to know how it turns out for you.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-62490173200363431402009-08-03T19:06:00.003+01:002009-08-03T19:13:28.852+01:00Ovulating? Me?Why yes, thank you. I am. Ovulating. On my own. Without drugs. We've thrown around the line, "the best treatment for PCOS is a succesful pregnancy", but now there's actual hormonal proof. Yippee!<br /><br />That being said, we are still testing everyone a second time to confirm that everyone's works are working.<br /><br />That was the good news. The bad news is that if things are not working in 6 months or so, IUI's are not covered by NHS. And they don't do Clomid. They do FSH injections. And IVF. Which I don't qualify for for another year and some. That sucks.<br /><br />We could do the IUI on our own, but it would cost 1400 GBP. That also sucks. <br /><br />So for now, we are celebrating the fact that it seems I have suddenly gained the ability to ovulate. Thank God! <br /><br />And now for the sex! Sorry, was that TMI? We're all adults, right? We know how this works.<br /><br />So, wish us luck!!<br /><br />With the ovulating, of course.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-15077796913812728462009-08-03T14:28:00.003+01:002009-08-03T14:53:22.225+01:00National HealthSo we have an appointment with our local fertility clinic this afternoon. I find myself quite nervous. I knew I was getting anxious, but as today has worn on, I have become positively beside myself. I've managed to keep myself busy, I got up early and made crepes for breakfast, I've baked some truly delicious honey/molasses bread, and I've just about finished all the laundry I was behind on. I've also finished a unit of my online course and started the next one. And Asher has been nursed, napped, fed, cleaned, and kept happy. I need to be anxious more often. It makes me ridiculously productive.<br /><br />On the other hand, I'd prefer to go without the stomach ache, slight light-headedness, and general shaky feeling. Sounds bad, I know. But it's all physical. I haven't been running stuff around in my head, I have apparently been suppressing any and all thoughts about it and it's just making me feel like crap. Part of the nervousness is the prospect of starting all this again; the meds, the testing, the not-so-comfy IUI, and the very real prospect of being pregnant again in the next couple months (we didn't have the horrible experience that some have had, I ovulated on the first round of clomid and we got pregnant on our first IUI so I'm kind of expecting it to go just as well the second time round).<br /><br />The hitch, and I think this is what's really got my knickers in a twist, is that it's not like the US system where we had great insurance and a really great doctor that I had picked out myself. The clinic we're going to is at the hospital instead of a nice cosy office. I'm likely going to have a male doctor, not my first choice for sure. And the real kicker...they can say no. I'm not sure of the rules or waiting lists for these procedures. I know the rules for IVF are really quite strict. If we needed IVF I wouldn't qualify right now. I'm a little freaked. I'm trying not to be. Obviously. I never get this much work done. I'm sure all my worries will come to naught, but of course until I know for sure I'm having a bit of a moment.<br /><br />Oh, yeah. And if they want to start Clomid, I have to wean Asher first. Yeah. I might actually be ready (although I feel guilty that I am), but I know that Asher for sure is not. Okay, for real now I think I may throw up sometime before this appointment actually takes place. Hopefully it's not as we're checking in. On someone's shoes. That would suck.<br /><br />I'll let you know how it goes.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-60721565223096949782009-08-01T13:36:00.002+01:002009-08-01T14:42:49.630+01:00RenewalA month ago, I disappeared. I was trying to figure out a way of getting to my best friend's wedding back in Canada. I couldn't post about it because of course she reads these posts. And really nothing else was on my mind. So I hemmed and I hawed and Jeff and I went back and forth over pros and cons and logistics and practicalities and it really boiled down to relationship. How much are relationships worth? I've come to the conclusion that they're just about the only thing worth anything. Relationships with family, friends, spouses, children, parents, people on your street, in your church, at work, in your community, on the bus. Relationships are really the core of life. They are why we do most of what we do. How we view ourselves in relation to other people determines how we carry out our daily activites. Sorry. I didn't mean to get so philosophical. Just one of those things you start to get a broader scope of when you actually sit down and start writing. Back to my story.<br /><br />Every time I talked about the week of E's wedding, I kept saying things like, 'when I get back'. Totally by accident. Jeff was already going to Poland that week for a conference, I was facing my first week on my own with Asher with a bit of trepidation and a bit of excitement, honestly, but everytime I thought of the wedding, I just couldn't imagine not being there. Originally, I was supposed to be a bridesmaid. It hurt that I wasn't going to be standing up there with her. So in the end, I went. We bought the ticket Sunday night and Tuesday we all flew out. Jeff dropped Asher and I off at Gatwick and then headed straight to Heathrow for his flight. We survived our first trans-Atlantic flight on our own (whew), and were able to surprise E Wednesday morning at her home. The wedding was on Friday and was absolutely one of the most beautiful, intimate, and unassuming weddings I have ever been to. I actually cried more at this wedding than my own. I am so happy that I was able to make it. <br /><br />I spent a lot of time on this trip, reminiscing. Maybe that's not quite the right word. Remembering is a better word. I had been having a hard time remembering what life was like before Asher and I was able to spend a lot time reliving the 'good old days'. The days when Jeff and Iwere first dating, when we were engaged, the early months of our marriage. These were good things for me to remember, important things. I had forgotten an awful lot. About myself. I was already starting to <a href="http://strangersinnormal.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-strange-we-happy-strange.html">realize that</a>. But mostly about Jeff. And about the things we went through.<br /><br />To clarify: I am not going down the road of 'having a baby ruined our marrage'. I cannot imagine life without Asher. I don't want to. But adding a member of your family does shift things. I think I did not really acknowledge/understand/get how much time it would take to make that shift. I think I thought it was over months ago and this is how we were going to be forever. It wasn't a place I wanted to be. I needed to remember things that were before because there are so many of those things that I want to be sure to preserve as we go forward, things I want to be a part of Asher's life as well as our own. Things I want to keep in this family no matter how big it grows. Remembering is important. Living life on purpose is important. It's often too easy to just let every day happen as it will and too much gets lost if you don't purposefully hold on to them.<br /><br />So this is me, holding on. <br /><br />To my style: to who I am in all of my varied and wonderful roles<br /><br />To my family: and all the history and growth and future that they represent,<br /><br />To my friends: new and old, and all that we've stuck by each other through, I'm sure there'll be more to come<br /><br />To Jeff: my husband, my partner (in crime and in parenthood), my love, my rock, my sheltering arms. Here's to never forgetting again, or at least not for long.<br /><br />To God: Who created the whole concept of relationship in the first place, to have one with me, He's the reason that I love. Keep reminding me.<br /><br />Without relationship, there can be no change. We are affected by, and in turn affect, those around us. So make sure your effect is a good one.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-24651352692529514472009-07-14T17:50:00.004+01:002009-07-14T17:59:57.297+01:00Help! I'm in the Great White North without wireless internet!Just a quick shout out to say, I am still alive but relatively offline. There is internet here, but the room in which it is located is a) roughly the temperature of a meat locker and can only be survived for short periods of time, and b) very much not child-friendly and since I have a small child almost permanently attached to me, it is difficult to sit here for the time required to write an actual post. That, and, let's be honest, I'm more interested in spending my time soaking up family and friends. Not that I don't love you all, but I'll be back soon. Does anyone want to write a guestpost for me some time this week? I'll return the favor as soon as I'm back on English soil. Drop me an email if you're interested. If not, this will just give you more time to read up on all the other blogs you follow. Oh, yes, I haven't read a single blog since I've been here. I don't know if it's liberating or if I'm going through withdrawal. Somewhere in between I'm sure. But I miss you and will catch up(-ish) as soon as I get back my wireless.<br /><br />PS. Oh, right! you don't actually know where I went. Part of the reason I stopped blogging for a bit was because all I wanted to talk about was my best friend back in Canada and her upcoming wedding and how hard it was to not be there and how much I desperately wanted to buy a ticket, but if I did decide to go, I wanted it to be a surprise. So we went into stealth mode. Turns out we decided that money wasn't a good enough reason to not be there for one of my oldest and dearest friends. So I bought the ticket Sunday night and left on Tuesday and surprised her at her house on Wednesday and made it to the wedding on Friday. Woot!!Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-65016444584245071982009-07-01T10:02:00.004+01:002009-07-01T10:47:53.593+01:00<center><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=8,0,0,0" id="TextSpace" height="56" width="400"><br /><param name="movie" value="http://i339.photobucket.com/albums/n463/textspace/lcd/lcd_4.swf"><br /><param name="quality" value="high"><br /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><param name="flashvars" value="w=400&h=56&c=2&spd=2&b=6&t=Happy+Canada+Day%21%21"><br /><embed src="http://i339.photobucket.com/albums/n463/textspace/lcd/lcd_4.swf" quality="high" name="TextSpace" flashvars="w=400&h=56&c=2&spd=2&b=6&t=Happy+Canada+Day%21%21" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="56" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br /></center><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3dflags.com/art/comps/can0001/3dflags_can0001-0003a.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 99px;" src="http://3dflags.com/art/comps/can0001/3dflags_can0001-0003a.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:78%;">*lovely animated Canadian flag courtesy of </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3dflags.com/images/3dflagsdotcom_logo_button.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 36px;" src="http://3dflags.com/images/3dflagsdotcom_logo_button.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a></div>Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-31168126837289303442009-06-28T19:50:00.002+01:002009-06-28T19:52:42.578+01:00<img style="visibility: hidden; width: 0px; height: 0px;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI*NjIxNDg3Mjk2NSZwdD*xMjQ2MjE1MDM5ODQ3JnA9MTc1ODIxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mbz*4NTM1ZWZmMGJmODA*MzQ4YjAyMzQ1ZmRiOWJmZTMyYyZvZj*w.gif" border="0" height="0" width="0" /><object height="240" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://thedejongfamily.myphotoalbum.com/inc/share/mpa.swf?xml_source=http://thedejongfamily.myphotoalbum.com/inc/share/photoxml.php%3Fset_albumName%3Dalbum01%26id%3DIMG_4056%26index%3D129%26whatType%3Dphoto&timeout=60&license=IUBZ89235ZM6YFSLRTO9DN6IKN49JK"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://thedejongfamily.myphotoalbum.com/inc/share/mpa.swf?xml_source=http://thedejongfamily.myphotoalbum.com/inc/share/photoxml.php%3Fset_albumName%3Dalbum01%26id%3DIMG_4056%26index%3D129%26whatType%3Dphoto&timeout=60&license=IUBZ89235ZM6YFSLRTO9DN6IKN49JK" wmode="transparent" height="240" width="320"></embed></object><br /><br />Okay, this is me with my undercut in Greece. The ramrod straight back and slightly manic smile is because I am scared to death of heights and that is a long way down. Back to the hair, I don't know that I want to go this high again, but definitely need less hair than I have right now.Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857675654050552183.post-72802355093448718892009-06-27T15:36:00.002+01:002009-06-27T22:23:32.766+01:00Six Word Saturday<center><a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a></center><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">So hot. I miss my undercut.</span></span><br /></div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><br /><br /></span>I've been really missing my undercut lately. I really wanted to get my hair dyed and cut while we were in Chicago seeing as I would pay in dollars there what I would pay in pounds here (I'll save you the math and say that sucks and is way too expensive here). Unfortunately a few things came up that cost more than we'd planned on and I didn't get to have my hair done. Boo. I've resigned myself to not having pink hair anytime soon, but I'm still hoping for some wicked red. Maybe this shade?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:PAAsomRInJ3pdM:http://www.ghetto-rock.com/Afbeeldingen/produkten/CORAL-RED-hair-dye.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 104px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:PAAsomRInJ3pdM:http://www.ghetto-rock.com/Afbeeldingen/produkten/CORAL-RED-hair-dye.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And if you're wondering what an undercut is, <strike>this is me on our trip to Greece in April, 2007.</strike> Okay, I'm having trouble with my external hard drive, so you don't get to see me in Greece with my undercut. I found this lovely example for you instead.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y34/optimiss/TV2006052223304700.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y34/optimiss/TV2006052223304700.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I know Saturday is over for me and approaching over for you but I got distracted by laundry. Loads of it. *hahahaha sorry I couldn't resist* Does anyone know of someone in Oxford who does hair on the side, now that I'm looking at that picture, I really miss my undercut. And is it really a 6 word Saturday if you then take so many other words to explain it?Strange Mammahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17307862079212197823noreply@blogger.com0