They Followed Us Home . . .

These shoes followed us home from the mall yesterday.

I wonder if it was a waste, considering that Avery never keeps anything on her feet . . . unless she is in our own house. But, we are going on a warm weather vacation in the next month so I thought she should have something other than heavy tights on her feet. I figure these will also get us through spring . . . if she doesn't lose them on the trip!

She seems to like them. And she even picked them out of the two shoes that I narrowed it down for her.

I thought the peep toe was practical . . . cool enough to wear in balmy Jamaica, yet warm enough to wear in the arctic, er, Canadian spring. Plus, it goes with dresses.

But now I'm wondering . . .

Should we have gone with the cute multicoloured shoes?

Any suggestions?

To The Owner of this Van:

I realize that your driveway is full of snow and you find it hard to manuever such a large beast into your drive, but parking your van right infront of our driveway . . . Well, it's just a big no-no.
You see, we have run out of room for our snow too, and can only shovel one lane into our drive. Therefore, we need to have some turning room to back out and to get a running start up our mound of snow.

Your large van is always in the way. In fact, this morning, it caused me to get stuck in a snowbank. (Not a very fun predicament with a van full of kids, trying to get to school on time.)

If you continue to park there . . . you have to accept some consequences. There may just be a tiny dent in the side of your van.

On second thought, there may be a large dent. It will depend on how my morning is going.

No hard feelings.

Maybe Brad Was Right . . .

we should have set up shop in Arizona.



Every day I keep telling myself how much I like winter: the skiing, the skating, the beautiful, frosty lace on the car windows that never goes away.


But, the constant back breaking shoveling and the bone chilling temperatures kind of cast a dark cloud over winter.


Add to that all the extra clothing and dressing that I need to stay on top of for three young kids and the lack of room for any more snow to be placed . . . and I'm ready for spring.


If last year was untolerable, then this year is a absolutely unbarable.


We have gotten a total of 137 cm (54 in) of snow so far this year. That is more than what we got for the entire year last year (which, if you remember was thisclose to setting a 70 year record).


And we haven't even hit February, the month we typically get the most snow in, yet. Heck, it is still snowing from yesterday's storm and there will be more snow tomorrow, and then another huge storm on Tuesday.


We have insanely low temperatures, interspersed with stretches of dumpings of snow. There is no relief in sight. Except for our vacation at the end of February--which I'm sure is really helping me keep a bit of perspective.



In the meantime, I will try to enjoy the benefits of winter: sledding with the kids, skiing, and maybe we'll check out a cool outdoor rink downtown?

Overwhelmed.

Really.

I thought it would be easier than this.

Has anyone out there slurped their blog to "Blurb"? Most of my text has been transferred, and all my photos . . . but the photos it uploads are the web-ready versions that aren't a high enough quality to be printed.

That means I need to upload them in, one by one, and remember which file to delete.

Or, I can go to mypublisher and upload all my photos easily, but have to put in my entries, in condensed form, into the captions.

Anyone been in this situation before?

Bundling Up!

The temperature outside may say -30C, but that certainly isn't an occassion to keep our hat, mitts, boots, or even socks on.

But when the house is a toasty 18C, well, we really need to bundle up!

We spent the afternoon in last Friday and I took out the "beast."

Sigh. What was I doing all those last few months, only grabbing my point and shoot?? My camera is just awesome. And my lens . . . it is fabulous, but stirs an envy inside me for another lens with the same aperture . . . and adding a zoom.

Here are some of the Avery dressing up shots.

Pick a Car

Jayden has a love of cars.

Okay, it's an obsession.

Maybe it's more than an obsession.

It first started when he was about 1.5 years old. He went through the ball phase and we figured the car phase would only last a few months too.

But, it continued on through potty training (and those hot wheels made for fantastic potty prizes . . . especially once we got smart enough to keep the packages and just reuse the already given cars) and onto his third birthday party theme.

When he became interested in art, his artwork revolved around drawing cars.

Now that he is almost six, he still LOVES cars and aspires to be a car designer.

In between drawing up his newest Super Car XP4, he does market research.

He will come up to me with the choice of two cars.

"Which one do you like?" I will study them each, and then decide on a big, black SUV.

"Why do you like that one?"

"Oh, because I like cars that are big enough to carry all my kids and my skiis in them."

Jayden will nod, and then leave for a few minutes, only to return with the big, black SUV and another car. This time, a silver SUV.

"Which one do you like?"

"The big black one."

Off he would go, again, and return with the black SUV and a blue pick up truck.

"Which one do you like?"

"The black SUV."

"Why?" He was so upset, "But I thought blue was your favourite colour?"

"Yes, but I like SUV's better than trucks."

This game continues for about 4 hours a day, every day of the week.

I am sure it will all be worth it when he does in fact become a car designer and makes the world's first (and finest) Super Car XP4.

Master Or Servant?

No one can dispute the loyalty of dogs.

They are always sitting, waiting for their families, and no matter how long you have been gone, their tails are still wagging and happy to see you.

Most dogs will pick one family member to be their "master."

Usually, it is someone who they spend lots of time with, who protects them, plays with them, and takes care of them.

This is what puzzles me.

I am home the most. I feed him. I play with him. I let him in and out. I even pooper-scoop after him.

But for some reason, Guillermo thinks of Brad as the "master" more than me.

Take, for instance, the other night. For once, Brad turned in before me and Guillermo went up the stairs after him. He paused a moment half way up, looking at me and whining, signalling that I needed to follow.

He consistantly sleeps on the floor on Brad's side of the bed. Never mine.

And, when Brad isn't home at night, he doesn't even come up stairs with me, but sleeps on his perch on the couch cushion with the view of the door. Probably, waiting for Brad.

The other night I turned to Brad and expressed my frustration. I asked, "If you are his master, or the alpha dog, who does that make me?" I went through my list of things that I did on a daily basis for him and before I could finish I realized . . .

I was his servant. His maid.

It's a great thing that I went through four years of university, studying microbiology and chemistry to be a toy dog's servant.

Dubya's Greatest Hits

(Or misses if you will.)

Most people are celebrating the historical moment of Obama as the 44th President of the United States. I, however, am feeling sorry for the loss of attention on Bush.

So, here are my "Top Ten Bushisms" (also found in Saturday, January 17th edition of the National Post).

1. "Our enemiesare innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." (Aug. 5, 2004.)

2. "Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?" (Jan. 11, 2000.)

3. "Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB/GYNS aren't able to practise their love with women all across the country." (Sept. 6, 2004.)

4. "You teach a child to read, and he or her will be able to pass a literacy test." (Feb. 21, 2001.)

5. "There's an old saying in Tennessee--I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee--that says, foold me once, shame on -- shame on you. Fool me--you can't get fooled again." (Sept. 17, 2002.)

6. And there is distrusts in Washington. I am surprised, frankly, at teh amount of distrust that exists in this town. And I'm sorry it's the case, and I'll work hard to try to elevate it." (Jan. 29, 2007.)

7. "One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some fantastic pictures." (Jan. 3, 2000.)

8. Well, I think if you say you're going to do something and don't do it, that's trustworthiness." (Aug. 30, 2000.)

9. "There's a huge trust. I see it all the time when people come up to me and say, 'I don't want you to let me down again.'" (Oct. 26, 2000.)

10. "I'll be long gone before some smart person ever figures out what happened inside this Oval Office." (May 12, 2008.)

It was pretty hard to come up with only 10 of the 25 great quotes from the article.

I wish Bush the best of luck in his "retirement" and hope that after some time, people will forget his short comings so he can feel comfortable enough to step off his ranch again.

Congratulations, Obama, and best of luck to you. I am sure that you will find being President is extremely overwhelming and much harder than it appears to have been on the campaign trail.

Winter Poem

Winter Poem

(Author, unknown)

It's winter in Canada

And the gentle breezes blow

Seventy miles an hour

At thirty-five below.

Oh, how I love Canada

When the snow's up to your butt

You take a breath of winter

And your nose gets frozen shut.

Yes, the weather here is wonderful

So I guess I'll hang around

I could never leave Canada

I'm frozen to the ground!

As we head into another "cold snap" (Oh, let's be serious. Have we ever left the cold snap?) and there is more snow on the horizon . . . I am finding myself slightly jealous of my in-laws who are enjoying sunshine on their cruise through the Caribbean.

All Shook Up

Brad travels a long way to work and often comes home in horrible weather, and in the dark.

Yesterday, he got off early and was excited to come home. (Well, it was still 7pm, so it wasn't THAT early.)

Anyway, as he began onto the highway a little, he saw a car about 10 carlengths ahead of him, swerve through five lanes of traffic and disappear into a cloud of snow in the ditch.

He slowed to a stop and ran over to the snowcovered car and tried to peer inside. There was only one person inside, an older heavy set man, hunched over the steering wheel.

Brad and a few others who had stopped called 911 and tried to open the car door to see if the man was responsive. But the driver's knee was sitting on the car lock, continually locking all the doors.

The paramedics on the phone advised him not to smash the window incase he would cut the victim. So, they waited for the firemen.

Even they couldn't do anything to open the car. It wasn't until the tow truck was on the scene when they were finally able to break open the back windshield and jimmy the door open.

Brad was the closest to check for a pulse and there wasn't any. He checked again. Still nothing.

The firemen couldn't bring their stretcher down into the snowy ditch and needed help lifting the 300 lbs body from the car. Of course, Brad was one of the only able bodies available to help.

You can't imagine the chills that stayed with Brad through out the night and the next day (and possibly months to come) from thinking about how he dragged a dead man up a snowy bank.

And about how fragile life really is.

I Am Not Afraid

The kids were happily playing on the McDonald playground while Brad and I got some quiet time to chat.

Perhaps it was the frost on the window, or the chill in our bones as we took the 6 steps from the car to the restaurant, but our thoughts turned to his sister and brother who were leaving this weekend with their families for a cruise to the Caribbean.

Balmy beaches, no snow to shovel, no storms or slippery roads to deal with. It sounded pretty fabulous.

"Well," I began trying not to feel sorry for ourselves, "I'm not afraid of winter. I'm glad we won't be missing a weekend of skiing."

That was yesterday.

Today, it is -30 again and I, I am afraid of winter. So very afraid. Insomuch that when my keys were locked in the van, I refused to trudge through the snow and cold to take Jayden to school. And, because tomorrow will be the fifth day of -30 degree weather, I will not be taking the kids to ski lessons.

But, instead of wishing it away or profaning Mother Nature, I am taking it in stride and counting my blessings.

1. We have lots of snow. It's a great ski season--if you can brave the cold.

2. I am sooo glad we decided not to take employment in Northern Canada. (Words cannot begin to describe my great relief!)

3. We have a vacation to look forward to this year. Albeit, it's not this weekend with family (though we really wish we were going), but at the end of February. It's something and just having it to look forward to makes sitting in the house, afraid to go out so much more barable.

4. We've been able to pretend it's summer by camping in our living room and roasting marshmallows over a reed basket.

5. When pretending gets old, the malls have provided relief and entertainment. First of all, the sales are awesome. And, for once I am not upset one bit about stores rushing the season along. Bring out all your spring/summer stuff! Just looking at it makes me feel warm.

You Know It's Cold When . . .

1. Your thermostat is in overload yet your house is still freezing.

2. Your lungs freeze up on the first breath you inhale.

3. Your automatic car doors no longer work because they are frozen.

4. You can't see out of your car windshield because there is 0.2" of ice on the inside.

5. The heater in your car is on full-blast and it makes no difference in the temperature.

Yeah, it's frickin' cold here today. The outside thermostat reads: -27 Celsius (-17 Fahrenheit).

And poor Brad is driving from place to place all day long in a car whose heater doesn't work.

Laying Low

I had been planning to put the boys in ski lessons, starting the first Saturday of January.

When I had called the ski club around Christmas time, they said that they had plenty of spots available and that members would be accomodated. I was relieved. It gave me about two weeks to get the money to them. I asked her if I should just book over the phone or do it in person. She said it didn't matter, and so I figured I'd prefer to pay on the spot.

Well, we had some snow storms and I couldn't get in when I wanted to in order to register the boys.

When I finally started calling again (January 1st), and actually got a hold of someone, they said they were booked. Not one single spot for either kid.

I was stunned.

The rug pulled out from beneath me.

Seeing as I couldn't get anywhere with the lady on the phone, I thought we'd just show up early to the morning class and see if my dad or Brad (who is so much better at being squeaky than me) could get through.

They were still booked. The only class they had spots left in was the Sr. Kinderski . . . way too advanced for Jackson (who was granted early admission to the Jr. Kinderski program because of a great private lesson the week before), and perhaps a little too novice for the likes of Jayden.

But, I figured that once they got in, they would have a ski off and put them in with skiers of their same ability . . . for Jackson that would mean that they would have to bump him down to jr . . . and move a jr up if need be.

I was desperate. So, I became one of those horrible mothers that stop at nothing to get their kids into a program.

We had about 15 minutes to get the boys suited up and on the hill . . . and I didn't want to be late and make more of a scene than we already had.

Ski boots, helmets, goggles, mitts . . . mitts?? We had somehow forgot mitts. And it was minus 10 degrees.

My dad searched the lost and found for something to borrow, Brad hopped into the car to try and find some on sale at the pro shop, and I got "creative."

Jackson got to wear Avery's pink and white striped mittens, and Jayden wore my (way too large for him) white and pink gloves. They looked ridiculous. I just hoped that everyone would somehow look away from them and try to forget it, like I was trying to do.

I lead them out to the chaotic ski hill and finally got them into their Sr. class. Jayden went for a ski off; I was a little more concerned for Jackson. He could just barely stop . . . sometimes. And they were making them go through a kiddie race course.

He did get through it, fairly well, with me running beside him telling him when to turn and he nly fell about three times. I helped him back up on the lift and once at the top while I was looking for an instructor to tell him where to go, he took off!

He went straight down the bunny hill. No turns, just speed. And lots of it . . . He was headed straight for the little plastic fence . . . and the forest of trees!

Unable to do anything else at that point, I did what any other parent would do. I shut my eyes. Fortunately, though, he managed to stop--just in time.

Even when Jackson was placed in the Jr. program, I watched as his poor instructor had to lift him back onto his skis every few moments. And when she wasn't doing that, she was chasing after him as he bombed down the hill out of control.

We hadn't laid as low as I had hoped.

It was definitely a rocky start to the ski season, and a stressful way to start 2009, but I'd have to say it worked out in the end.

The head instructor seems to be happier with me (a $10 donut shop gift card might have helped), Jayden is in an advanced class, and Jackson is doing extremely well in his class. (He is even staying in control most of the time and following his instructor on occassion.)

Just For Men

Four years of professional school while supporting three kids and a wife can add a teensy bit of stress to your life.

And a few grey hairs.

This prompted Brad to purchase a "Just For Men" hair, side burns, and beard kit.

It kicked around in his drawer for about a year or so, unused, until one day (several months ago) Jackson stumbled upon it.

He's been lugging it around ever since.

"Jackson," I asked, "What are you doing with that?"

"I want to look like this!" He responded, with great enthusiasm.

"What? You want brown hair?" I was somewhat saddened that the one kid who looked like me wanted brown hair like their dad.

"No, I want a beard!"

Somehow, he thought the kit would produce a beard. A brown beard, on a blond child. Could you just imagine?

Brad told him that he can only have a beard when he is older, and for now he would need to draw one. (I was quite upset that he would give him any ideas.)

Naturally, he left for a few minutes and came back into the room with bright green stubble.

SOLD.

I can't imagine how such a small, common word could possibly bring about such a strong emotional reaction from me.

But it has.

Like a hard punch to the stomach . . . complete with the loss of breath and then followed by pain on the first thousand gasps for air.

And a tinge of heartache. A tinge? Make that a dollup.

Leaving me wondering if it's worth going on anymore.

Does this sound a little melodramatic? Of course. But if anyone else has been house hunting, I'm sure they would understand.

Or maybe not. Maybe they would have acted faster than we did. Maybe they were the ones who purchased the house that we were planning to put in an offer for in the next week or so.

The very house that I have already envisioned where my appliances would sit; where our children would sleep and play; how we would finish the basement; how we would walk to the corner store for ice cream in the summer and decorate for Christmas; and live there happily for the next five years.

I still have trouble breathing.

It wasn't that the house was perfect. It wasn't. But, it was near perfect and I figure that a truly perfect house is hard to come by . . . especially in our price range.

It's the fact that anything else on the market right now is total crap. Really. In place of a rundown, 30 year old kitchen, this place had a beautiful, extra large gourmet kitchen with all the bells and wistles. In place of gross, disgusting bathrooms, this place had well thought out and modern baths . . . with a toddler sink in the kids' bath and a double shower with rain forest shower heads and a fireplace in the master.

This place had been on the market since September and we thought we had a bit of time. We thought offering in the early part of the year would help us get a lower price. And just knowing that we had a place (because we most likely wouldn't move until June) would have helped us get through the long, difficult winter of bad weather and horrible commuting.

Now that the rug has been pulled from beneath us, we are back to the drawing board.

It's true that other places will come up, but we are pretty anxious to move asap, so we might have to pay close to the asking price. Or wait to move next fall and try not to let the commuting get to us.

And that is assuming I can surface from under my covers to house hunt when I just want to hide until it's 2010.

Between this and other events, 2009 is not turning out to be my year.

Christmas Dinner

After years of delicious meals at everyone else's house, it was our turn to host a holiday meal.

Of course I would try and do Christmas dinner to "get my feet wet." Really, I love the idea of hosting holiday meals . . . especially Christmas. What better time to break out my adorable reindeer dishes and fine silver?

However, I seemed to have forgot about the whole busy Christmas morning, big breakfast, and early dinner hour when I readily volunteered.

I think in the future, it will be much easier to host Christmas dinners . . . when the kids are a bit older and will (be forced to) help get ready for company. But for now, I am glad that we hosted this year's . . . and even more glad that I have about four years to wait (and maybe get a larger house) until I need to do it again!

It turned out to be a success, I think; even with two cooks in the kitchen. My mom came into town from Calgary to spend Christmas with us and was a great help in getting the meal prepped and ready for the table.

The rest of the guests included Brad's family--or at least those of them who were still around since it was "In Laws' Christmas."

We had it mostly potluck, with the turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce supplied by us. (Oh, and maybe a few desserts snuck in there too.)

I am proud to say that my turkey came out fabulous . . . at least in taste. (Thanks to some techniques I learned from my uncle and a little help from Williams-Sonoma--for the brine solution.) A very far cry from my first turkey six years ago which, even though it tasted all right, I hadn't realized the bag of innerds was still in there until after I had carved and served the turkey to guests!

After stuffing ourselves with the usual holiday fare, we had an endless assortment of desserts: Cheesecake Factory Cheesecake, pies, croquenbouche, chocolates, and fresh fruits.

And instead of exchanging "normal" presents with everyone, we did "White Elephant" gifts. Ironically, the most sought after gift was a singing trout fish on a plaque from my mom. (I thought for sure that everyone would have wanted the autographed 8x10 of Brad in a quirky costume!)

(Sorry no photos from the main event . . . we were too busy eating and trying to keep the 12 kids under control so the adults could enjoy their dinner while it was warm!

Christmas Morning

I am sure that Mrs. Claus is on my side. I am positive that she understands what millions of packages and presents means to a mom who has to clean it all up . . . not to mention the constant toy gathering that takes place months (and years) to come. However, in spite of Mrs. Claus' pleas to keep things "tame" this year in the present department, Santa obviously out did himself . . . as did all the relatives.

Christmas morning at our house this year was great. The kids actually slept in until 8am (or at least the boys did, Avery must have been more excited).

They awoke to mounds of presents that took a couple of hours to open. We tried to do the "one present at a time" thing, but there were just so many that it was taking too long. (Not to mention, the most recently unwrapped present became the greatest toy on earth and enraptured the kids so much that we had to plead them to open another gift!) By 11:00am we were getting hungry and tried to hurry things up.

The table was set with care the night before by yours truly . . . a little test run for the big dinner that night. Since we were hosting the big dinner, I thought we'd keep things a little low key for breakfast.

I made a french toast strata (thanks for the recipe, Kelly!) using chocolate panatone, bacon, broiled grapefruit, and mini cereals.

We finished up just in time for the scramble to get the house back together (somewhat) for company, pop the turkey in the oven and set the tables for guests.

Favourite Gifts

This Christmas we really tried to keep the gift quotient low . . . but somehow it seemed to have multiplied from last year. (Perhaps that is what you get with a third child, and flying a grandmother in from Calgary.)


But among the mounds that overflowed from beneath the tree, these were the favourites:


Avery loved her red tent and aqua tent/tunnel. (So did Jackson.)




Jackson's favourite was a toss up between Octopus Play-doh (which I am sure is still his favourite except for the fact that I don't let him cart it around with him so he's forgotten about it) and "Mr. Mah-Mah" the polar bear that Santa brought.

Jayden had been dying for an Optimus Prime transformer and it easily made the cut as his favourite gift.

Mine was the toaster/convection oven that (ironically) I bought "the family." (This little oven makes some amazing toast . . . and cookies!! I've yet to be home enough to try anything else.)



Brad's, however, was the most long awaited. Ever since we were newly weds, channel surfing late into the evening, we stumbled across infomercials advertising the "Magic Bullet" and he has wanted it. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the "Magic Bullet" is basically a blender with many jars. The infomercials show how you can make several different frozen drinks for a party, or alfredo sauce using only three pulses, or guacamole dip. I used to tease that he didn't want the Magic Bullet, but actually wanted the food!


Well, someone at one of his offices found out about his wish list and got him his very own Magic Bullet! He can hardly wait to serve guests their favourite frozen beverage when they visit him in his "Bat Cave." (His mean wife won't let him take up counter space in the kitchen.)


And as for Guillermo, we're pretty sure his favourite gift wasn't his "Christmas Sweater," but it sure was my favourite for him! At $2.50 at Target, how could Santa have gone wrong?? (And it wasn't near as ridiculous--or humiliating--as the holly dog collar and matching elf hat.)

Christmas Spirit

In order to help the kids learn about the real meaning behind Christmas, we decided to talk about the nativity, read some scriptures, and then discuss why we hold Christmas celebrations and tie the reason behind gift-giving in.

We told the boys that our Heavenly Father gave the world the best gift ever on Christmas 2000 years ago when Jesus was born. We try to be like our Heavenly Father on Christmas too and give good gifts to everyone.

When we asked Jayden to retell us the meaning behind all our beautifully wrapped presents he stated:

"Because a long time ago Heavenly Father gave us the greatest gift of all, Jesus. And wise men brought him lots of presents. We give people presents too because it's not fair that Jesus got them all."

Something must have gotten lost in the translation.

Trashy Love

Please don't judge me.

I know I certainly would.

Who could possibly fall in love with something so . . . trashy??

I have been trash can shopping for a few years. Our first stainless steel can was found (rather dented and banged up) at the clearance bin at Linens and Things and was bought for a mere $15.

Finally, we put it to rest last year when Brad brought home a new can from Costco that was sensor-activated. Since the sensor feature was "so great," the manufacturer never put in a step or even a decent handle. And naturally, between the two boys, the sensor failed after about 1 hour of coming out of the box.

This left us to awkwardly try to get the lid opened . . . and hold it open while scraping plates or tossing trash in . . . for the last year.

So, I have been scouting. Dreading the day when I might actually have to fork over $80 for a real can.

I always liked the trash cans in Williams-Sonoma, but didn't even know if they sold those there and was sure that I didn't need a "gourmet" trash can. Seriously, how ridiculous!

I found some in a housewares store in the mall a while back and nearly died when looking at the price tag. I asked the clerk what made this trash so amazingly good to deserve that sticker price. (Was it made of gold?? Did it take the trash out to the curb for me or at least clean the kitchen?)

She said it was just really good and everyone liked it. (Not really worth the money in my opinion.)

So I forgot about it. . . Until I went shopping with my inlaws this past week at a discount housewares store and found the trash can for 50% off.

I was desperate for a half decent trash can. I knew this one wasn't too much more than what I would eventually have to spend . . . so with permission from the hubby, I purchased it. I thought that I would get home, take a look at it and see if it had any diamonds hiding in the bottom to make it worth while . . . And if it didn't, I'd take it back.

Well, it has been about two days and I am so embarrassed to say that I am in love. With a trash can. That I spent far more than I would ever have thought I would.

It opens and closes like a dream, it locks open for longer jobs, it has wheels and a handle, it has a inner tub that makes taking the bag out (even when it is overstuffed) a breeze, the mouth is large and accomodates everything you could imagine, and there is absolutely no ugly garbage bag overhang. And, it looks sharp. Really sharp.

Am I crazy?

Yes, totally.

But I am not alone. Because if you go look up reviews on Simple Human trash cans you will find hundreds of trashy lovers raving about their garbage cans.

Ironically, I thought I would look up on WS website and see if they did carry trash cans. Sure enough, they do. And do you know which brand they carry? (Here's a hint: it's sitting in my kitchen.)

A White (and GREEN) Christmas

While everyone out here was enjoying a healthy dumping of snow for a white Christmas, mine came in the colours of white and green--the signature colours of Williams-Sonoma.

Of course, the kids were totally spoiled this year for Christmas. (But since that isn't too surprising, I'll write more on that later.)

Whereas for myself, I was beyond spoiled.

It got to ridiculously spoiled, I think.

My kitchen now seems to resemble a Williams-Sonoma show room. (Come on in, if you would like. I have viewings and demonstrations daily. ;) )

We started off with a new counter top toaster/convection oven. (Sooo very nice! And I am happy to have a safe replacement for my dying microwave and old toaster oven.)

Since we had so much left over space from losing one appliance spot . . . we got a panini press/indoor grill.

Finally, a last minute "surprise" gift came from my dad in the form of a hot chocolate maker. (It certainly does make the best hot chocolate . . . with extra froth!)

This is all in addition to the WS Peppermint Bark that Santa brought, the gingerbread bundt cake mix, 3 bottles of turkey brine solution, and two tins of gourmet hot chocolate.

I think my brother will change his slogan for me from, "If it's not from Pottery Barn, it's not for Mel" to "If it's not from Williams-Sonoma, it's not for Mel" . . . but he's too busy running to his local PB and WS to find all his fabulous sale items and gourmet cookware. :)

Now, with all this stainless steel flashing around my kitchen, it's hard to believe that there may be something new to add to my white and green collection . . . but fear not. I have more dreams . . . for a white and green birthday.