thank you

Dollar Store Whore

A few weeks ago I threw caution to the wind and signed up for The Dollar Store Challenge hosted by JustOneMiss and DrawingCowboys. The challenge: Take $20, hit the local dollar store, pick out the coolest stuff you can find, send it to another blogger.

I drew Carrie’s name and so after a wee bit of research, off I went, with Vista in tow, to help pick out stuff (because I wanted to make the challenge a little more challenging).  There was a lot of V throwing stuff *she* wanted into the basket and me either getting a few more for Carrie’s girls or throwing it back on the shelf as soon as Vista moved on to some new treasure she had to have.  Yeah, my daughter is a dollar store whore like her mom.

Now like the perfect idiot I am, I totally forgot to take pictures before sending her parcel off to Carrie. I’m not so brilliant sometimes.  But I did manage to get some great stuff for her and, oh who am I kidding…95% of it was all for her girls. icon smile Dollar Store Whore

Today, I popped over to our mailbox, and what was waiting for me? My parcel from Nicole!!

We rushed home and tore the paper of the package.

The first score was the cool box she sent it in.  Vista loves boxes.  She collects them.  And she kept telling me how ‘pretty’ this one was (translation:  This is my box.  Throw it out and you will live to regret it)

thebox 229x300 Dollar Store Whore

After tearing the lid off, Vista immediately latched onto the ball that was in the box.  Because the only thing Vista likes better than boxes are …. yeah… I’m totally not finishing that sentence.

ball 299x300 Dollar Store Whore

She also tried to claim the coffee cup that Nicole sent.  We’re in negotiations over that one right now.  I say she’s too young for coffee.  She says she can ‘pretend’.  I guess she may as well start learning to fake it while she’s young.

coffeekid 247x300 Dollar Store Whore

There was a ton of wonderful stuff in the box for both V and I.  A huge box of chalk (which has already been dutifully dumped in her chalkboard tray), dominos, a travel Connect-4 game (I loved that game as a kid.  One of my favorites because I would always win.  Hey what’s the point in playing if not to win?), stickers, a little treasure box to decorate.  And my personal favorite?  A can of silly string.  It was so tempting to hit Bil with it when he walked in the door from work today, but somehow I managed to restrain myself.

loot Dollar Store Whore

There was one thing in the package that was undeniably for Vista, and that was the puzzle.  It had her name all over it.

vistapuzzle Dollar Store Whore

So a huge thank you to Nicole for all the wonderful stuff.  Love every bit of it.

This was a ton of fun and I’m hoping Miss and Kat do it again next year.  I’ll definitely be signing up.

Surprise!

My Belgian Shepherd is laying in the front entry way as I sit on the couch in the living room and work on my laptop.

I can hear the low rumble building in his throat letting me know someone is out front.  He jumps up and starts barking, apprising me of the impending arrival at my door.  We have no need for a doorbell or a burglar alarm as long as we have him.

I groan inwardly.  I just put Vista down for a nap.  The barking will wake her.  So much for working on this project.  And a knock on the door in the middle of the day hasn’t meant good things lately.  I groan again and get up to see who it is and how grumpy I’m going to have to be to get them to go away.

I tell the Shepard to knock off the barking and lay down.  He completely ignores me and blocks my way to the door.  He’s nothing if not a good guard dog and my fierce protector.

I shove him out of the way and open the door a crack.

A little old lady standing on the front step with a box.  I look past her to her truck in the driveway and see the Canada Post logo on it.  Oh.  A delivery.

I straighten up, tell the dogs to go to bed, and open the door wider.

“Are you Jennifer?”  She hands me the box already lightly covered in a dusting of flakes from the blowing snow.

I mentally run through my mind of things I’ve ordered online lately and draw a blank  I wasn’t expecting anything.  Hmmmm…

As a take the box and close the door, I flip it around looking for the return address.

Colleen… my girl Messponential has sent me something!

I race to the kitchen, tear open the box and start taking out the contents.

A pink shirt studded with rhinestones.  Too small for me.  I smile.  But a perfect fit for Vista.  Especially with her latest growth spurt.

Another thing for V.  A stripped fleece hoodie!  I have to hold back a ‘SQUEEEEE’.  I had just about bid on this exact one on ebay yesterday!  Now I’m glad I held off.  I know Vista is going to put this on as soon as she gets up and not take it off for the next week.  She loves soft clothes like this.

And then I get to the good stuff.  Oh, Colleen, you’ve really outdone yourself.

You all know my Tassimo fetish.  The only down side is there are a lot of Tassimo discs that are available in the US that we can’t get in Canada (sad panda).  And even the one’s we can get are not always available.  Bil has been whining for the past month about not being able to find the Chai Tea in any of the stores.  Well, now we can indulge thanks to Colleen!

 

colleensgifts Surprise!

 

Did I mention the indulge part?

 

swisshazelnut Surprise!

 

As soon as I pulled everything out of the box, I heard Vista calling to get up.  I picked up the shirts Colleen sent and went to show V.  She immediately reached for the hoodie.  “Oh!  I LOVE IT!  Put it on.  It my coloring shirt!”.   (I have no idea what a coloring shirt is, but the hoodie apparently matches the description perfectly).    I told Vista I wanted to take her picture to show Colleen and she immediately grabbed her cowboy hat, sat down and smiled.  “Cheese mama!”

 

colorshirt Surprise!

 

Thank you Colleen.  I’ve been struggling this week to remember where I put my smile.  And here it is in a box from a friend.

Paging Dr. Twitter

Shot Paging Dr. TwitterPeople who don’t use Twitter don’t get Twitter.

It’s a powerful beast.

And I’m not even talking from the ‘social media’ perspective.

I’m talking from the perspective of a mother.

The day Vista managed to get a huge sliver in her finger that I couldn’t get out , I mentioned it on twitter and immediately had a dozen suggestions on different tricks that might make it easier to remove.  And it worked.  Sliver removed without crying and fuss.

The day we took V to the hospital for yet another round of gastro issues, I twittered it.  I was overwhelmed with support from mom’s who had been there with their kids.  Who walked me through different meds.  Who twittered me about different procedures the docs might suggest and what they all meant.  The pros and cons of each.  They offered phone numbers and then sat there on the phone offering support while we waited to be seen in the ER.  And most people just offered support, good thoughts, prayers.  All of which meant so much.

On Monday night of this week when I mentioned V had spiked a sudden fever and a cough, Dr. Twitter pronounced it Swine Flu and advised me to get some Tamiflu for her.  I should know better than to doubt the all powerful Dr. Twitter.  I put it off til she got worse on Wednesday.  Took her into the local ER and walked out with our Tamiflu prescription.

Then yesterday afternoon, I mentioned on twitter the wheezing when she was breathing and the barking sound she was making when she cried.  Several experienced mom’s popped up to tell me Vista had croup and I should take her in.  I brushed it off, attributing the symptoms to the flu (yes, silly me…. I’m a slow learner).

Later that night, after V decided to drop a soup can on her big toe (why yes, it’s been the week from hell.  Thank you for asking), the first place I went was twitter.  I was informed by the Mom’s Who Have Been There Done That that the toe would need to be x-rayed and then the nail would probably need to be punctured and drained.  Guess who was right again?

We bundled up Vista, took her into the ER.  The nurses took one look at her and said “She has croup”.  We explained that we weren’t actually here about that.  That we figured it was probably the flu and we were actually here to have her toe looked at.  After they picked their jaws up off the floor we were informed it was lucky we brought her in because of her toe.  The wheezing (stridor) we were hearing when she was at rest was NOT a good sign in terms of croup.  The doctor refused to do anything about the toe until the croup had been looked after for fear of getting her upset and sending her into respiratory distress.  So she was plied with steroids and popsicles to take care of the croup.  Later, as per the Twitter consensus, her toe was x-rayed (verdict was no visible break) and after a quick puncture of the nail we were on our way home.

Time and time again, my friends on twitter have been there for me.  With advice, recommendations, personal experience, and support.   I have learned that doctors give you REALLY funny looks when you say “My twitter peeps think this is the issue”, especially when it turns out they’re right on the money.  But I have learned to turn to these people first.  They are my rocks.  My support.  They are what keeps me going when I just want to sit down and give up.

So, to     

To all those amazing people who are constantly there for me, there’s only one thing I can say.

Thank you.

A Lesson from Miss Manners

What the hell is wrong with people?

I don’t mind doing favours for people.  In fact, I usually enjoy it.  It makes me feel good.  I don’t ask for anything in return.  But really? Would it kill you to say thank you?  I’m not asking for a gushing three page letter that tells me how wonderful I am (because quite frankly I already know that).  All I’m asking for is a quick note, a quick tweet, a quick DM with ONE FRICKIN WORD.  Thanks.  That’s it.  Really it’s not hard.

You would be surpised how far that one little word can go.

Because the next time you come asking for a favour, and you will, you might just find that I’m too busy to help you out.

Find Me

TwitterRSS
FacebookEmail

I’m Connected