Fiscally irresponsible.

While in Alberta last week – aka Land of NO SALES TAX – I did a bad, bad thing.  Well, a bad for the money situation thing, but a good thing for the kids.  Hell, it’s good for me, too.

I bought them a Wii for Christmas.  I want to drive to my parents’ place and rip it open, but dammit, I have to wait.  I also have to work on getting at least 1 more controller (want 3!) and some games (any suggestions?).

Still playing the waiting game with D’s job and any potential transfer.  Things would be a little less stressful if he were home f/t, in so many ways….sigh.

Jack is officially up for sale again.  He’s a high-functioning whiner, capable of dressing himself, feeding himself, and amusing himself for long stretches of time.  The downside is the whining.  The incessant fucking goddamn WHINING.  I’m told it never ends.  This does not bode well for his life expectancy.

Austin is flying along in grade 5.  I’m sure his report card in October (November?) will, once again, reflect the utter mediocrity that he tends toward.  Ah, he is SO my kid.  If I’d applied myself in school, I could have been the straight-A student that everyone wanted to beat up.  (shut up, people who knew me in school – I was never, ever a straight-A student.  So there.)  Perhaps he will surprise me, or perhaps his teacher will actually appreciate the reading and spelling levels he’s at (grade TWELVE in spelling, people.  Again, irrefutable proof that he’s all mine.  I am the Spelling Queen).

Hmm…what else?  September seems to be a month of many projects that are coming to a close.  Soccer has restarted, and will be finished for the year by the 27th.  Karate is underway, but I’ve scaled us back to one class per child per week.  Mommy likes her sanity, yk?  Budget time at work has given me a new elephant in the corner to pointedly ignore.  It’ll get done, but it won’t be pretty.  One of our big SPCA fundraisers is finito, which is a huge relief.

In randomness, the dude who does that new Sharp commercial?  FREAKY.  Trim the hair and dial back the scary “I’m a rocket scientist” voice.  Aghhh.  Also, I have determined that I need new living room flooring.  However, Goldie must pass on to that great Dog Park in the Sky if this is to come to pass.  Seriously, the dog is killing me with the incontinence and shit piles.  Not every day, but often enough to turn my blue (gag!) carpet a very disgusting colour.  And unless I want to invest serious time and more money in that magical online cure (I paid $9 for it, and won’t share), it’s going to stay gross.  Replacing it with something other than carpet won’t work, since she’d just haul her ass to the nearest carpet – in my room or downstairs – and do her bidness there.  GACK.  NO.  She has to kick the bucket.  Oy.

9.3 on the ICK scale.

It’s bad enough that, on any given day, I may come home to find a pile of bird feathers on the floor.  Or a half-disemboweled mouse.  I do have six cats, and some slaughter is to be expected.

I never thought the dog would get involved.

The “don’t mind me, I’m just a piece of furniture”, shy and overweight, Goldie, no less.

Two nights ago, I thought I heard the tell-tale sounds of a mouse in distress.  (they can get pretty damn loud)  When I looked around, I didn’t see one.  Goldie was lying on the floor, tending to her paws.  Or so I thought.  No, she had the poor mouse in her clutches, and as I glanced away, I heard him protest one last time…..before she chomped him but good.

All together now:  EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

That, my friends, is possibly the most disgusting sound EVER.  Crunch.  Crunch.

The Big Day.

Both kids in school ALL DAY LONG. Oh, how I have dreamed of this day. The daycare bill is dropping, and the possibility of my kids coming home on the bus (squee!!) after school is something I can plan for….as opposed to dream about.

I work full time, so it’s not like I’m going to see any less of them. And I didn’t have much trouble sending Jack off to Kindergarten last year. Not terribly sentimental, I suppose. Well, a little. Austin’s in grade 5 (gack. choke. sputter.) and that is fucking unreal. Just….unreal. Happily, he has promised to be my baby forever.

I do have some reservations about Jack’s teacher, although the list did say he has two teachers. One is Austin’s much-loved Grade 2 teacher. The other? Not so much. She’s – oh, how can I put this? – an odd woman. We deal with her at our office, and she’s one of “those clients” – the ones who show up with some difficult request 5 minutes before we close. She’s scatter-brained, and I can only hope she’s one of those teachers who interacts with small children much better than she does with the adult world.

In other news, my husband spent the entire weekend at home! FOUR whole nights with him! Whee! (infer what you want about that whee, lol) We didn’t do a whole lot, and managed to redefine laziness yesterday, but it was lovely.