Thankfulness

In light of the American Thanksgiving, and my lack of posting anything back on the real (aka Canadian) Thanksgiving, I thought I'd post some things that I am thankful for. I was inspired by my darling Randi too :)
So here goes...

* First I am thankful for my family. I have a great family, and a great family of in-laws too. I am most thankful for my beautiful son though. I'm so blessed to know such unconditional love. I know what it means to love someone so much it hurts. There was a time that I thought I'd never have a child of my own, but I'm so very thankful that I do.

* A great job that I love. Mr. Sass has a job. We have a house and money. We may not be (even close to) rich but we have much more then some.

* Mitts and hats. Man is it cold out! I sometimes wonder why I don't live in a warmer climate...but this is home.

* My health. My family's health. A great health care system.

* That Mr. Sass hasn't made any anal sex comments lately. I wonder how long this will last....

* Good friends, good books and lots of laughter in my life.

* A PD day tomorrow! Woot! Woot!

Happy Thanksgiving to my American pals!

Heart Failure: 1 Sassy: 0

Oh. My. Gosh.
My child dropped the F-bomb.
AND it wasn't even because of me or Mr. Sass! Pay up to all those who had bets against me!
One of the kids at his daycare (older punk) told him "Fuck you" and he repeated it to the babysitter. And to me.
And then repeated it some more.
And more.
All night. "Ethan told me Fuck you." Must have said this atleast 12 times.


I am completely gobsmacked. I can honestly say I didn't know what to do. I ignored it, not wanting to make a big deal about it. But he'd say it again. Finally I said that he needed to use nice words and those weren't nice words. Nothing more said.


I have no idea what do say/do if he says it again. Advice anyone?


I know he's going to learn these words, but I didn't think it would be at almost 3! Now I'm stressing because my precious baby boy, my well behaved, smart little boy said the F word. Maybe I'm overracting, but I don't want him to be "that kid" that the other parents won't let their kids play with because he swears.
Please God, let this only be a "one time" thing where he's trying something new out and doesn't get a good reaction, so he stops. Please.


If not, I'll wash his mouth out with soap..like Auntie Keri suggested. Right after I fish it out of Ethan's throat..cuz boy I'm going to throttle him tomorrow....



Happy thoughts Sassy..happy thoughts. All kids swear at some point right? Happy thoughts...


Check out this picture of my little nerd:


Does this look like a little boy who says the F word?!?!
I'm going to go cry...

Last 5 minutes of the day:

Student: My dad is in Paris fighting in the war. But he's not dead. And my mommy is marrying my Uncle Bill.

Where do I live again? The deep south? Someone tell me what war is going on in Paris? Is someone fighting over a croissant in a cafe somewhere? Is it legal to marry your brother?

The sweet gullible minds of children. Darling girl, your daddy is in jail (in the south coincidentally, where perhaps there is a war: who will be dipping whose "baguette" in whose "coffee...") and has left your family. Keep believing that. He is still your hero, but someday you will know the truth. And your mom is not really marrying an uncle...why did she get you to call him "uncle" ... it just makes things sound a bit creepy later on don't you think?

That is all today.

The Trews - Highway of Heroes

I should have posted this on November 11th like I had planned. A good Canadian band. Beautiful song and heck..it's my hometown in the video :) A little background: a section of one of the major highways through the city (401) has been named the "Highway of Heros" When we loose a soilder and their body is returned home, they are carried in a procession down the "Highway of Heros" People line the bridges to pay their respects. It's a beautiful way to pay tribute to our fallen soilders. Here's a picture to show just what I mean. It's no small deal:

Let me just say this:
I am thankful for the beautiful and free country that I live in, the right to speak freely, practice my faith openly, the education I receive, the health care that we have. The safety I feel. The love of my family. My whole family. The life I can give my son. Thank you.

Pray for Peace.

Conversations with Mom:

My mom, sitting on the couch with her eyes closed:

Mom: I need to go home.
Me: You can stay if you want, you know that. You look tired.
Mom: I have to go home so I can take care of my pussy.
Me: Mom - there are some things you shouldn't say to your daughter.
Mom: You're a pervert.

ME? I'm not the one who talked about "taking care of her pussy."
Just for the record.

She don't eat meat...but she sure likes da bone!

I don't miss it.
Okay, sometimes I do. But I guess I don't miss it enough to eat it when it comes down to it.
I feel a million times better. The only "problem" is that I struggle to make meals that make everyone happy. Meat for the meatatarian (Mr. Sass), something the baby sass likes and then something vegetarian for me that has everything I need.
I swear when I win the millions (although that would involve buying a ticket...) I'm going to get a chef to make dinners. Problem solved.

Anyone have any meal ideas?

And for the record: to my dear friend K - I AM NOT A VEGAN!!! hahaha You're such a punk. At least my kid doesn't poop in the forest...oh wait. He did. Loves ya.

What's been going on?

Sooo..my last post, I was not in good spirits. Obviously. I don't think anyone is shocked by that last statement. But it was how I was feeling at the time. Raw. Unedited. Meh. Let me catch you up...
The following week was a dream. The kids had their horns filed back, their teacher was no longer suffering from a week long migraine and sinus infection. Their teacher got her grove back. We had a really good week. It's been pretty good since. They are coming....but to be honest I just feel that my creativity gets stifled. It's hard to explain, but I have all these creative ideas that I want to do, but I just can't...they can't handle it, they aren't ready for it, we are too busy doing other things.... I'm trying to find ways to feel better about this and still have the kids learn. I think I put a lot of pressure on myself teaching grade one since it's such an important year (I know all years are important...but this year in particular shows the MOST growth. I think anyway). I want them so bad to succeed and read and write...that sometimes I set the bar a little too high and kick myself when I have to lower it and then lower it again....and perhaps again. BUT the good news is, that it will go back up. Baby steps. This is a challenging group. A low group. But a nice a group for the most part. My attitude has been adjusted back to the normal "Sassy" one since the last post.

What else?
My liver is fine.

And?
Mason was the absolute cutest lion on the block for Halloween! He kept saying "can we do a couple more houses mommy?" He ended up doing the whole street on both sides!! He loved it. I think he liked ringing bells and talking to people more than the candy. We have given most of the candy away (or helped eat it...*sigh*). He gets to pick one treat after he eats a good dinner...it's been helping him eat more! Hahaha..he's not use to getting candy, so it's been a big treat.


See? I told you. Totally cute. Roar!

Now we are in birthday/Christmas mode. This is the conversation we had this morning:
Me: Mason, you know who is watching to see if you are doing good listening?
Mason: Nana?
Me: Well, yes, but Santa too. Do you remember who Santa is?
Mason: Yes.
Me: He brings a toy to boys and girls who do good listening, and are nice to their friends.
Mason: (with that impish grin he gives me...you'd just have to see it to understand) Does he bring fans?
I had to laugh. All the poor kid wants is a ceiling fan in his room. That's it. Ask him what he wants for Christmas and he says a fan. Birthday? "A fan for my room. With a remote." At least that makes shopping easy right?

I think that's it for now. I'll tell you about my stiff neck and minor concussion another time.
G'nite!

Is it only October??

I'm being driven to drink by a bunch of first graders.
Heaven help me.
I say this in the nicest way possible...but I teach an absolute bunch of retards. I'm baffled by their lack of common sense everyday. Their lack of ANY kid of listening skills. I've never met a bunch or more molly coddled little brats.
I will whip them into shape..but I think the better part of them where either dropped on their heads or exposed to copious amounts of alchol in utero. Come to think of it a few of them have some pretty spaced out eyes....
I think I'm over stressed and underfucked. Hmmm..maybe I'll change my blog name? Ha!

Pass the wine.
What? That bottle is gone too? Shiiit.

Romeo, Romeo...

I feel the need to document this, just because it's been absolute crap lately. One of my darling grade ones came up to me today, took my hands in his and said, "Mrs. Sass, you look very beautiful today."
How do you not melt at that?
I'll tell you this for free: That kid is getting straight As.

It has me wodnering though.....I guess I must look like shit every other day?

Listen up men....

I found the place you were looking for:

I've said it before: I love the youth in this town.
If you look closely, you can see Mr. Sass waiting in the car, completely mortified that I made him pull over on this main street so I could hop out with my camera.

Waiting for my dessert....

I don't often open up about the infertility issues that Mr. Sass and I are faced with. I belong to online communities and have a good close group of girlfriends that are beyond supportive. It's not that I'm ashamed or uncomfortable talking about it, it's just that I sometimes can't stand the comments. The "it's not your time" "I'm sorry...that must really suck" "doesn't it suck when you see other people having babies all the time, especially those who pop them out and can't afford them or love them?" "Relax and it will happen" "Maybe you aren't doing it right." That last one is my favourite. I know people mean well and unless they have been through, or are going through infertility, they really have no idea. At all. None. I don't hold comments against people, but they still upset me sometimes. I can't fault people for not understanding either. However, I'd like to share something that will perhaps shed a little light...a little fraction of what we go through, and the feelings involved with infertility. I wish my sisters in this journey a big ol' slice of chocolate cake.

This is from WE ARE ALL MOTHERS by Christine Dallimore. She has written what my heart feels. What she has written has given me strength, and others insight. She is blessed with a gift, and I am so thankful she was able to share it with us...and now I share it with you:


Over the past several years, I have been confronted with many comments concerning my infertility journey. In my neck of the woods, not a whole lot of people can really understand the magnitude of the emotional luggage that comes with it. A lot of the comments have been something along the lines of....

"I wish I could understand your pain."

OR

"I can't imagine what it would be like to NOT be able to have children."

In response, I usually smile and say....

"Imagine that you have never tasted chocolate cake before. Others that have tell you time and time again how wonderful it is. Then the day comes where the chocolate cake is sitting right there in front of you. It does look amazing. You want it more than anything. You want to experience the joy of it yourself. It's right there in front of you, but no matter what, you just can't have it. You are told you must wait. Now take that feeling, multiply it by 100 and you may come close to how infertility feels!"

After that, they usually nod in acceptance. After all, who can't relate to CHOCOLATE CAKE?!?

When I am emotionally vulnerable, I write. Shortly after I lost Conner, I had so many emotions that I didn't even know where to begin to sort through them. Talk about never writing so much in all of my life! This little ditty is a small reflection of that time. It's still raw and it's not perfect. It does reflect my journey thus far however. It also expands a little bit more on what I talked about above. I'll warn you though- it is long winded!!!

"Imagine yourself dressed up in your finest clothes. You and your sweet husband are attending a dinner together in one of the nicest restaurants in town. You both have planned, waited and saved for this evening. To say the least, you are very excited! You and your husband arrive and the atmosphere is more than you expected. Everyone around you is having a good time. The chandeliers are sparkling, candles are glowing and sweet soft music is playing in the background. To your pleasant surprise you see others there you know. You are seated with them and in your heart you think there just couldn't be anything better!

The table is just exquisite. Breathtaking really. The people at your table begin to talk to you in jolly conversation. You glance at the menu and you don't even know where to begin! You look over everything slowly and carefully, especially the dessert menu! All of your life you have been hearing about this restaurant's marvellous and divine desserts. Deep in your heart, you have been looking forward to enjoying dessert the most!

Everyone at your table orders their food. For dessert they all order chocolate cake. You think, "Hey that sounds perfect. I'll have chocolate cake too please." The waiter nods in approval and quickly swifts off to put in your order. In the meantime, you are still enjoying the surroundings, the music and the company. You grab your husband's hand and sigh "Yes, life just couldn't get any better."

The food comes and everything looks just pleasing. Some of the things you tasted you really love, some of the things you didn't. Either way, you know that dessert is on it's way. That thought in and of itself is just exciting! Then you see him, your waiter! Your wonderful, blessed waiter with a silver tray full of plates of chocolate cake! He comes and starts handing out plates to those you know. You look at the cake and to put it simply, it looks just divine. You're even more excited now! The waiter comes to your side and then passes you and your husband. You are shocked and think there must be some mistake. you don't know what to do, but rather than make a fuss you think, "Just wait, I will get my chocolate cake soon too."

Those that have their dessert are going on and on about how amazing the taste is. You smile, you are truly happy for them. Deep down you are anxious and their feelings only feed your curiosity and desire. Then you see the waiter again and think, "Ahhh, here he is." You notice that he starts handing out seconds and thirds to those that have already had their piece of cake. Your husband doesn't notice, he's busy chatting with the fellow next to him! Deep down though you get a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. You know something is wrong, something is very, very wrong.

You ask the waiter, "Excuse me please. Where is my chocolate cake that I ordered"? The waiter just replies, "The baker has said that you must wait." He rushes off and not another word is said. Time goes on. You still enjoy the surroundings, the people and the conversations. All the while though, you can't get chocolate cake out of your mind. Time keeps creeping by and soon your husband notices too, "Where is our dessert?" You hold his hand and look into his loving eyes and think, "Even without chocolate cake, life is still good."

Time, however, creeps and it creeps. At moments it seems like it has even stopped. It's getting late and people are noticing you haven't received your dessert yet. Questions start arising and you just don't know how to respond. You look around other tables and notice that people are also getting their third, fourth and fifth servings of dessert. "Why" is all you have to lean upon. You notice that others have ordered things for dessert besides chocolate cake. There is cherry pie, brownie ice cream sundaes, raspberry cheesecakes and such. They seem just as pleased, if not more pleased with their desserts and you wonder, "Should I order cherry pie too"? You talk to the waiter and he simply says, "I'm sorry ma'am, you just need to be patient and wait."

You are starting to burn inside. Despite all of your best efforts you are beginning to boil. You really want to jump on top of the table and stomp while shouting, "Where is my chocolate cake." You don't though because you know that will get you no where! Instead you look around and notice that there are some that are refusing their chocolate cake. "It will make me fat" one says. "Ugh. I have enough already" another states. One woman, simply dumps her beautiful chocolate cake onto the floor.

As you look deeper around you, you notice there are a few others that are waiting too. Your heart goes out to them. You smile and wish there was something more you could do. You know their pain and it hurts. It really hurts.
Finally, the waiter comes and he has chocolate cake on that familiar beautiful silver platter...and he has enough for two. One for your husband and one for you! Your so elated with joy that you can't hardly stand it!!! You tell everyone at your table and they are just as happy for you. "We knew it would happen" they say. "You just needed to relax"! Little did they know that deep inside relaxing was the last thing you were feeling! You look at your husband. Tears are in both of your eyes. You carefully take a taste. It's such sweet, sweet perfection. You go to take another and just before you do the waiter comes and gently takes your plates away. "Something is wrong" he says. "Don't worry my dear, the time is soon."

There's confusion. Sadness. Anger. Above all though, you are just deeply and truly heartbroken. Heartbroken to the very core. You don't know what to do. You turn to others for support. They cry with you and too ask why. You take a deep breath and find the strength to go on. You have been given the promise that you will receive dessert. It is just not understood as to when. You decide to put your full trust in the baker. You reach far inside within yourself and find the effort to ask your husband to dance.

He looks at you and smiles..."Yes, I would love to dance with you my dear one." You both get up, leave the table and set off to dance.

As you are dancing, you get your bearings. You again begin to notice your surroundings. The beautiful surroundings that have so magically grabbed your attention in the first place. You remember the music, the sounds, the smell of the sweet flowers. You breath. That's all you can do. You breath and slowly begin to enjoy the moment again. Slowly, it all comes back to you. The things you love. Being with the person you love the most. The pains you have just felt are still there. Still vulnerable, but you feel life again. Yes, life is still good.

After quite a few dances, you both decide it's time to sit at your table. People still have their desserts and their chocolate cakes. Your space is still empty. You decide, however, to really focus on those around you. In doing so you find more joy. The desire for dessert is still there- but it's manageable. Time moves on.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, your waiter appears. He has the biggest smile on his face. He is pleased to announce that you and your husband's dessert is finally here!! Your heart wells up with joy, but you're afraid too. You ask the waiter, "Will you take it away"? "No, this one was made especially for you." You smile back, hardly believing that this could be true or real. You look at it and it's not a dessert you have ever seen before. It's then that you realize that the baker has made a dessert with all of your favorite colors and flavors. Careful detail was lovingly taken into every consideration. "How did He know that this is exactly what I wanted"? The waiter just smiles and says, "Because he knows and loves you." If you look, you can see him there. You look and at the door, through the little round window you see a gentle man with tears in his eyes. He is grinning from ear to ear and looking at you and your husband. You can't hardly see anymore because of all of the happy tears. You whisper a big "Thank You" and in your heart you feel that this simple phrase will never be enough.

You look at the people around you, they too have tears in their eyes. They too are smiling from ear to ear. Everything is so precious and tender now- even more so than when you first arrived here. It's then that you learn that the pains you have felt all along the way. The waiting, the crying, the agony. It's all been a special recipe to make this moment this much more wonderful and sacred.

In your soul you take a deep breath and slowly let out a big sigh of gratitude.

You grab your husband's hand and sigh again, "Yes, life just couldn't get any better."

Feb - 2003




By Christine Dallimore

22 years ago I had to say goodbye.
I love you dad.
Always thinking of you, always missing you.

Let's talk about me.

It's been awhile since I've done this...and another blogger recently did it, so I'm playing along. By my rules. I hope I'm not repeating anything I've written before, but if I do, you can add "uncreative and unoriginal" to the list. Sue me.

Facts about me: (it's suppose to be "interesting facts about me" but I find that a bit subjective)

1. I have an order to do things in the shower. If I don't follow this order, I get all discombobulated. It must happen in this order: wash hair, rinse hair, wash body, shave (if needed), rinse body, pumice feet, condition hair, wash face, extra attention to private areas (get your mind out of the gutter), rinse conditioner out of hair, extra all over rinse, rinse face, turn off water. Wrap hair, then body. Oh hell this OCD continues after the shower with my routine too. It has an order.
Don't mess with the order.

2. I really like peanut butter and lettuce sandwiches. It has to be iceberg lettuce. Try it. SO GOOD.

3. I used to listen to Ozzy Osbourne and Cyndi Lauper with my dad. I still get really happy hearing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

4. Toy Story is probably my favourite Disney Pixar movie. It also makes me happy :)

5. 32 G. Yup. Someone will get what that means.

6. I was an Air Cadet. hehe.

7. I was also a Girl Guide, but got "thrown" out.

8. I don't like William Shatner. Shitner is more like it. However, I can't quite place what it is about him that annoys the fuck out of me. Star Trek fans...don't hate me. =P

9. I did go to a Star Trek convention once though. I'm not explaining myself though.

10. Don't tell Mr. Sass, but I quite like TopGear on BBC. I've watched it a few times on my own too. It's way cool. With knobs.

11. I'd really like to unleash the inner slut of my bestie K. I know it's in there somewhere!! Turn her into a naughty little Minx. (I've mainly added that because she reads this and I know I'll get a call soon). It would be fun though....Meow.

Dear Anonymous,

You are really starting to piss me off with your spam. I've gone years without a spam problem and now you start. Is it really necessary?
I assure you that no one who spends (wastes) their time reading this blog cares about vacation destinations, casino tables and random football facts. At least not from an anonymous source. Nor can the majority of my readers speak the Asian language in which you post in. Let me tell you this...I think it's pretty universal:
Fuck off.
I say it again: Fuck off.
I am going to ashew you with a firm hand. And put the bloody word verification in. So there.

~Sassy

South of the boarder fun.

Sorry, not that kind of "south of the boarder" fun. This time anyway.

We went to the States for a weekend away with friends. Although it is not the first time I have been south of the boarder, I have a couple things to say:

1. Dear God my American Chums, what the fuck have you done to my Cheerios?! Banana Cheerios, Chocolate Cheerios, Yogurt Cheerios, Fruity Cheerios...it's just to much to take in.

2. Dear Bob Evans. I love you. I love that your kids menu is super cheap (ummm $1.99 for breakfast?!) and offers so many sides. I was super excited that my boy could have fruit or yogurt instead of fries or other (much hated by him) potatoes. One thing though darling Bob (if I can call you that?). Your portion size is out of control. Way too much food for one person. Actually this goes for every place we went. Why is everything so big? Why does it have to be "go big or go home?" We went home. To normal sized stuff. At the end of the day though, I love you Bob Evans.

3. Is there some sick fool behind the whole GPS phenomenon (to which I say is a "colossal waste of money". I like paper directions, but perhaps I'm old skool like that) that gets a kick out of fucking with people and sending them all willy nilly about town? I swear it's a sick joke to see how far off course you can take someone before bringing them right back to the same bloody highway 10 minutes later. Also, not cool to take 2 car loads of lost and confused white folk into the ghetto and tell them "you've reached your destination." Forcing them to pull into an abandoned and boarded up building's parking lot (we had our pick) to re-evaluate our directions...all while car after car of "interesting" (we'll leave it at that) individuals in far too expensive cars for the area, slowly drove by staring at us. We decided to wing it and get the fuck out there. So this message is for you TomTom: FUCK YOU!! We did fine without you.

Side note: K and M: this fiasco was by no far your fault, even though you own the bloody thing. I think it really wanted us killed. It was an adventure..and hey we laughed our way through it. Nervous laugh at times..but laughter none the less...hehe

So that's it for now.....

I'm not wondering anymore.

I was so sure.
I let myself think it was. I waited patiently not saying a word to anyone. 1 day, 2 days, 5 days, 8 days...nothing.I let my mind wander to the what ifs, the maybes and the future. I was happy. I was excited. I shouldn't have done that. Especially when I didn't know for sure.
Now I know it's not to be and I'm sad.
I feel foolish.
I should know better then this.
Sometimes life sucks and there is nothing I can do about it.

Hmmmmmm.
I wonder....

Makes me smile :)

I need to smile.
All the money problems in the world can't take away from how happy this boy makes me.




Mason: You are everything to me. I love you so much.

Let's pull our our rubber rain boots!!

Let's add to my list shall we:

* Computer has issues: $115.00 to fix.
* Lawnmower blows it's motor. Haven't replaced it yet. Thinking about getting a goat instead. I wonder what it costs to feed one compared to a new mower. I'd name him Moe.
If lawnmower wins at least it's the end of the year so there should be sales.
* Alternator in my car goes yesterday. $305 for a new one. At least Mr. Sass can put it in and I don't have to pay labour.

*sigh*

At least we have our health.
I'm very thankful for that.

Now I'm going to post something nicer, even if it's just a picture to make me smile.

It's raining, it's pouring...

It's been a rough couple of weeks. First I managed to fall out of the "babysitter's" house.
Yes. I fell. out. of. the. house. How does one do that you ask? Easy. Forget there is a little step down, trip on your flimsy flip flop...and voila...down you go. However, I did ease my fall with my elbow. I didn't realize the damage I did until I felt the blood running down my arm. 2 weeks later and it's a scabbed over mess. Bruises for decoration and all blood cleaned up. It looks real sexy. Do guys dig scars on chicks, like chicks do? I'm sure this will scar. It's pretty vicious. But I'm tough.
Except when toddler sass is being silly and he kicks my bruised and scabbed arm and part of the scab comes off. THEN I swear silently and want to cry.

Then just when we are getting ready for a little time away at the cottage, I start to feel sick. I have horrible back pain and am miserable (everyone's favourite version of me). I decide to go to the doctor just to make sure. Call it a gut feeling.
Turns out I have pneumonia. I'll spare the details, but I did end up in the hospital. The good news? I'll feel back to my 100% in 4-5 weeks. Just in time to go back to work (I'm sure those of you who work in the summer have no sympathy for me. Whatsoever.). I can tell I've pushed myself because at the end of the day my chest hurts and I'm soooo tired. Like today. Oops.
I'm not use to climbing a set of stairs (that I usually fly up 2 at a time) and huffing and puffing. I feel like I'm in horrible shape. Is this what morbidly obese people feel like? I don't like this feeling of being out of breath all the time. It sucks balls.

What else you ask? Oh just my washer and dryer decide to bite the dust. I can't complain too much because it's been so good to us for years. YEARS. But I don't want to spend the money...simply because we don't have the money!! But we have to. Argh. I'm feeling pretty broke. Let's break the last 2 weeks down:
Passports for all three of us: $200.
Dog vet visit: $300
Drugs for stupid pneumonia: $200 (I'm not going to lie here...I'll get 100% of this back when I send in my claim..but for now, I'm lazy and haven't done it)
New washer and dryer: Approx $1700 before tax. Ugh.
We were suppose to go away with some friends on a shopping trip to Grove City, but now I'm thinking we have to back out because that money will be needed for a washer/dryer.

Does this post sound like I'm whining?
Well I am.
I hate this.
I'm sick.
I'm tired.
I'm broke.
And I'm going to complain all I want. For now.

Maybe I'll be in a better mood and try to post something nicer. But for now...whine whine whine.
And a foot stomp for good measure.