I have total blog block. Every time I sit down to post I end up writing a bit of crap, eating a bit of crap, then reading some non-crap that makes me think my stuff is even more crap.

So to break out of the funk I’ve decided to just slam out some crap thoughts, in crap form, to make room for something that is hopefully non-crap.

• It’s apricot season! Unlike a lot of fruits and veggies, which you can get all year round if you’re willing to pay for them, apricots are only around for a month or two a year. I adore apricots, and I’ve just learned that Little Miss Sunshine does, too. So we’re both very happy…although there have been a few squabbles over the apricot bowl. I’m bigger, but she’s tougher and has wicked sharp little nails. It’s kind of a draw.

• Dollhouse got renewed! I love Joss Whedon, and I shall follow him wherever he goes. Dollhouse started off slow but the season ender was awesome, awesome, awesome. Next year’s order is for just 13 episodes at a reduced budget, but I’m still looking forward to it. Castle got renewed too — we’ve been watching it, it’s okay, sort of a time-filler show — and Chuck got renewed too, but also for a short season order at a reduced budget. Still, whoo hoo! Good for the networks for taking some chances and letting shows grow.

• Thank God for spring-like weather! It’s been a little rainy and a little windy this past week but at least we’ve been able to get outside every day. I’ve been weeding the lawn and pushing the kids on the swings and sitting on the patio with Queen Charming from next door with cups of lemonade. Just being able to spend a little time outdoors makes us all much less likely to kill each other by the end of the day. And that is a good thing.

• We’ve been invited to a wedding in July! This is our first proper wedding since 2002 — since then I’ve been to two post-wedding celebration parties but no ceremonies or traditional receptions. I have absolutely nothing to wear, so I must shop, which is horrifying. On the plus side, however, if I get a dress early enough I have given myself permission to order one pair of earrings to match the dress from Etsy. The thought of buying something on Etsy makes my mouth water. So a-shopping I will go! Also, I should mention that we will be taking all three kids to this event. We debated about getting a sitter, but the kids were interested and have (obviously) never been to a wedding before, and since we aren’t involved in the wedding party or anything we’re free to duck out whenever the kids get tired, so…we’re going for it. Sir Monkeypants will realize his dream of dancing with his pretty-dressed daughters! I’m packing the camera now.

• This morning at the Superstore, the lady behind me in line helped me load my groceries on the belt, then chatted with and entertained the Little Miss while I paid. Then another lady in the parking lot offered to take my empty cart back up to the store for me. Little things both — maybe even just common courtesy — but they really warmed my heart. It’s amazing what a small gesture it takes to make you think that all is well with the world.

I guess this explains why I have blog block — I’m too freakin’ happy. I need to get out there and find some angst sources so I can get a good rant on. That’ll fix me!

In yesterday’s post I mentioned that there are two other Jam Panda books that we don’t own, but it turns out there are four more. We have Animals and Opposites, but we’re missing Shapes, Colours, Counting, and Weather.

So naturally, I had to look on eBay to see if they were available for sale. And this being the internet, of course they were.

Now I have to talk myself out of sending $25 of our hard-earned dollars to the UK just so I can round out my Jam Panda set. Seriously, our kids will be just fine without additional Jam Panda exposure. We have a hundred books here, and if we do need something new, our local bookstore and library have hundreds more. We don’t need the rest of the books.

But…it’s a set. I have this overwhelming need to complete the set.

I’m like this with a lot of the kids’ toys. When the Captain was a baby, I couldn’t go to bed at night if there was a piece missing from a puzzle, or a shape missing from his shapes ball, or a ring missing from the ring stacker. I had to scour the house until every ball from the ball tower was accounted for, every part of Mr. Potato Head safe in its container.

When the Captain got into Thomas the Tank Engine, we started collecting in earnest, collecting all of the major trains and quite a few of the lesser ones. When he moved on to Lightning McQueen dinky cars, I followed tip after tip from family and friends, dashing to stores throughout the city to get a hold of this or that rare car. I needed to have THEM ALL.

And of course, they all needed to be accounted for at the end of the day. Heaven forbid we could not find Chick Hicks. WHERE IS CHICK HICKS? No one would get any sleep.

I used to think this is was some weird flaw in my personality but now I think it’s just human nature. There’s a reason why they say, “Collect them all!” in those McDonald’s commercials for Olympics cups. There must be some fundamental thing about us that likes a complete set.

I know I do. I even feel uneasy when any one member of the family is out of the house. I like us all to be together — the family set.

Anyway, we’re trying to save some money around here these days so I’m trying to think logically, for once, and stop myself from eBay frivolity.

I think I’ll take my mind off it by doing every puzzle in the house and making sure all the pieces are there.

(And then spending hours searching the house when I find one with a piece missing!)

My mother-in-law picked up these two books at the dollar store many, many years ago:

She bought them for my oldest nephew, who was then just a toddler. He LOVED the Jam Pandas. Even though we only visit them three or four times a year, I had probably read each of these a hundred times before we had kids of our own.

His younger brother loved them too. When our kids came along, they always ran to get the Jam Panda books out as soon as we arrived at Ba’s house.

The last time we were there, my mother-in-law suggested we just take them home with us. Naturally they have become Little Miss Sunshine’s preferred bedtime books, especially the animals one. We read it every night.

The weird thing, though, is that all of the kids in our family love these books despite the HORROR AND TRAUMA.

This picture from the animals book caused no end of trouble for my sister-in-law:

When my SIL tried to take my oldest nephew, AvidReader, to the zoo when he was around five or six, he absolutely refused. He cried and cried and would not go. Why? He was terrified that the elephants would spray him. It took years before we figured out where he had got this idea from, and even more years after that before we could convince him to go. I think he still gives the elephants a wary glance and a wide berth when there.

I love that the growling bear (and a roaring lion from the previous page) didn’t phase him, but the idea of getting a little shower was terrifying. Kids.

This picture from the last page of the opposites book has, I am sure, caused many nightmares in our own house:

The problem here is that the text implies that everyone is at home, sleeping, but the Mommy and Daddy Jam Panda are clearly driving AWAY from the house. Try as I might, I cannot convince my older two kids that this is meant to be two different pictures, one of them leaving the fair, and one of the peaceful house with EVERYONE inside. Rather, they firmly believe that Ma and Pa Jam Panda came home, put the kids to bed, then made a run for it, NEVER TO RETURN.

Every time we read this book (which is often), I have to reassure them at the end that the poor Jam Panda children will not wake up in the morning to an empty house with no one to take care of them. EVERY TIME.

Yet they still ask for this book over and over. Maybe it’s the reassurance they are after.

Apparently there are two other Jam Panda books — one on shapes, and one on weather. Maybe I’ll search for them on eBay…but then again, maybe we’ve already had all the trauma we can handle.

This morning we were watching little videos we’ve taken of the kids through the years. Man, I could watch them for hours and hours and hours. Our kids are so doomed when they come back home for Christmas twenty years from now — Sir Monkeypants will say, “How about we fire up the XBox and watch some family videos?” and then we’ll ignore the groaning and retching and pouring of many drinks, while we chant, “Oh, you were SO CUTE,” over and over.

My apologies in advance to my future sons and daughters-in-law.

Sometimes I like to imagine that it’s a hundred thousand years in the future, and people have evolved to become flying balls of light, and all trace of the 21st century is lost to memory. Then someone comes across our home videos, magically preserved by some Super DVD that has somehow resisted all degradation and erosion. Then, all that the future people will know of the 21st century is what we have in our videos. They’ll think that everyone ate Cheerios for breakfast every day, that everyone liked to spin and spin and spin until they passed out, that everyone had fake light saber fights on a regular basis.

And of course, they’ll think that every kid had dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and was totally adorable.

All true, no? Not a bad legacy to leave, I say.

Today, I’m the epitome of Mothers Who Do Too Much. Due to poor scheduling and a backlog of household tasks, here’s what I have on for the day:

1. Grocery shopping (at two different stores)
2. Laundry (six loads)
3. Dentist appointments for me and the older two kids
4. Gal Smiley and Captain Jelly Belly’s first soccer game of the season
5. Evening powerwalk with the ladies on the street

All this on top of the usual making of meals, tidying of meals, homework, and shouting at Little Miss Sunshine to PUT IT DOWN. It’s a busy day.

Anyway.

My grocery shopping trips lately have been guilt-ridden and confusing. My problem is that I have been reading Muddy Boots and Amy has been making a series of amazing posts featuring her weekly groceries and the meals that go with them.

She has managed to cut her grocery bill down to $100 or less per week. That boggles my mind. I can literally see the food she buys in photographic form, I can see the meals she makes with it, and yet, I can’t wrap my head around it.

I’m ashamed to say this, but here goes…I spend about $250 per week on our family’s groceries. That includes all our toiletries, so things like toothpaste and shampoo, diapers for the Little Miss, toilet paper, and nutritional supplements for the Captain.

But even if I took all that kind of stuff away, I’m sure we spend close to $200 per week on food alone. That’s double what Amy spends on her family, which is the same size as ours and features three boys of about the same age as our own kids. What the hell is up?

So now when I visit the grocery store, I find I’m constantly second guessing myself. I feel a little embarrassed at the stuff I’m throwing in the cart. I feel ashamed when I pull out my ten bags and two bins at the checkout.

I guess it’s good to be thinking about how to spend less, especially with Sir Monkeypants’ job always in danger. A couple of years ago I did some research and identified the Superstore as having the overall best prices — maybe not the best on a specific item, but low enough and competitive enough that I felt confident shopping for everything there on a regular basis. I also went to a meal plan, to cut down on our food waste.

Another thing we did was buy a big freezer, so we could stock up on favourite foods when they went on sale, and also so we could freeze more leftovers and save them for another meal.

Now, though, I feel like I should be doing something more.

I couldn’t possibly bring myself to list or display my weekly groceries online, because I know I’d be opening myself up to all kinds of comments like, “Oh my God, I can’t believe you feed your children Vegetable Thins!” which I know I just could not take. But here are a few things off the top of my head that I think I could do to save on our grocery bill:

• Stop buying individual yogurts. We usually buy the small little yogurts because it’s easier for Little Miss Sunshine to feed herself. I think she can handle a bowl now, though, so time to move to the bulk size. I should also probably start buying a cheaper brand — we buy a very expensive brand because it’s the only kind Gal Smiley will eat, but she’s kind of off yogurt these days anyway, so I think I’ll try the Little Miss on something new.
• Put fresh fruit instead of dried fruit in the kids’ snack boxes. Fresh fruit isn’t always that cheap, especially in the winter, but I think it is cheaper than dried.
• Try some different brands of juice, or juice from concentrate.

And now, do me a solid and tell me what you spend on your weekly grocery bill. Am I at the top of the heap? Are we way overspending? I need help!

I just read on EW’s site that Life, one of my favourite shows, has been officially cancelled. Apparently Reaper and Dollhouse are also on their way out the door. What the heck am I going to watch next year?

In other news, there’s a rumour going around that Entertainment Weekly itself is in trouble, and may eventually be folded into…I can barely say this without barfing a little…PEOPLE MAGAZINE. First of all, I will have to declare myself officially divorced from all things pop culture if I can’t read EW. Secondly, if they try to replace my prepaid subscription with a subscription to freakin’ PEOPLE MAGAZINE, I may have to do something drastic.

Like blog about it. You don’t want to mess with the power of MOMMY BLOGGERS, PEOPLE MAGAZINE.

Last night we were watching The Amazing Race on TV, and the winners of this leg of the race won a trip to the Galapagos Islands.

I thought, “Oh man, that would be such a fantastic trip.”

Then I thought, “I feel sick even thinking about an imaginary trip in which I would be apart from the kids for eight days.”

Sad, I know. And possibly unhealthy. At least, I expect my future teenagers to think so. Sorry kids, that house party you were hoping to throw while your parents were backpacking in France? Never gonna happen.

I remember when I was a teen, I was very concerned about the fact that my mother’s whole life was her kids. She didn’t have her school secretary job yet, and she didn’t have any hobbies or things she liked to do. She’d been divorced for a few years and hadn’t kept in touch with most of her pre-divorce friends, and dating was out of the question. I definitely thought it was a major problem for all of us that my mother didn’t get out more, and have more fun.

I felt a lot of pressure on us to fill up her life, and I worried constantly about what would happen when we all moved out. And in fact, when my youngest sister was in her last year of high school and preparing to go to university, there was a lot of talk from my mom about how she wasn’t needed any more, about how she should just move to another country where she could die alone.

Sheesh.

So now, I must say, I’m on the other side of the coin, and I can see that I’m going to be just like her. I do try to keep my hand in various social activities and sports and hobbies and whatnot. But still, being a mom is my chief job. The fretting never ends, does it?

Once the kids move out, here’s how I predict I’ll be spending my days (click to enlarge);

If need be, I can dump that personal hygiene slice to make room for more fretting and emailing. You can never have too much!

21-month-old firecracker, female, looks for buddy to make mischief with. Must enjoy climbing things, touching sharp objects, breaking things, and devising plots to get at stuff that is supposedly “too high” for you to reach. Should also like milk, pretzels, bubbles, and going for long walks in the stroller. Ability to turn on the TV a plus.

4 1/2 year old tenderheart, female, seeks same for playdates that do not involve Star Wars. Must enjoy running games, gymnastics, being outside, and sucking your hand while cuddling your bear in front of the television. Ideal candidates will have several dolls to bring to the table and will enjoy changing their clothes an unlimited number of times. Knowing all the lyrics to the Toopy and Binoo theme song a plus.

Six-year-old Jedi-in-training, male, seeks video game aficionado of either sex. Must be able to set up the Nintendo and load the Star Wars game, help put on Darth Vader costumes, and discuss the merits of Jango Fett versus Boba Fett ad nauseum. Should enjoy eating bacon and grapes to the exclusion of all other foods, and should never, ever suggest going outside. Ability to separate small pieces of Lego a plus.

It’s our thirteenth wedding anniversary today!

I read several years ago that the secret to a good romantic match is two people whose Myers-Briggs types differ by only one letter. The Myers-Briggs types are four-letter codes that describe your personality — Extrovert/Introvert, Intuitive/Sensory, Thinking/Feeling, and Perceiving/Judging. I don’t go in much for the labelling of people, but knowing your Myers-Briggs type can be useful on a personal level, to help you understand just why do you do the things you do, and why you tend to make certain kinds of decisions.

Anyway, as I said, a good marriage is supposedly made up of two people whose personalities fall into the same category on three fronts, and are different in just one of the categories. Sir Monkeypants and I, though, are pretty much different on all around.

It’s working out, though. I think whoever wrote that thing about the one-letter-difference needs to add us to their study.

For example, Sir Monkeypants is an Extrovert, while I am an Introvert. In the early days of our marrige this was kind of an issue, as he wanted to go out and see people all the time, and I just wanted to stay home and watch Survivor in my jammies. Now, though, I absolutely value this quality in him — I like to call Sir Monkeypants “our family’s ambassador to the world.” He’s the one who goes out to meet new neighbours when they move in, who chats with people on the street and in the mall, and who talks to the other parents when dropping off our kids at school. He converses with friends and strangers alike when we’re at a party, while I just hang at the wall with RheostaticsFan or LuckySevens, who I see all the time. He’s the one who makes sure that we have a place where we belong, where we fit in, where we feel like part of a community. Meanwhile, I’m more than happy to stay at home and organize the closets, or do the grocery shopping, or send out the Christmas Cards — which is good work too, which otherwise would never get done — while he’s mixing and mingling.

He’s also Intuitive, whereas I’m Sensory. If you have to be different in one area, I highly recommend this one. He comes up with the grand plans; I execute. He sees that our garbage-taking-out system is a mess; he comes up with a plan, whereas I’d be more than happy to just keep stepping over piles of garbage for the rest of my days. Then I actually make it happen; I buy the bins, label them, organize them, and replace the bags, whereas he’d be more than happy to sit on the couch watching Survivor and talking about his awesome plan. It keeps the house running smoothly.

Most people who meet Sir Monkeypants would guess that he’s a Thinker, not a Feeler. Really he’s sort of on the fence on this one, but I am definitely and without a doubt a Feeler. He knew it was time for us to buy a house, because we could afford it and it was a good time to get into the market and it was the next life step. I could not be convinced until Sir Monkeypants figured out that all the number crunching in the world would not appeal to me, but a lovely, warm tale of us snuggling in front of the fireplace with hot chocolates after a night skating on the local rink definitely would. And now we know exactly how to convince the other one to do something — Sir Monkeypants uses the Warm Fuzzies Approach, while I stick with the Numbers Game.

And lastly, he’s Perceiving, and I’m Judging. That means I like to have things settled, and he likes to think about a decision for one million years before making it. This sometimes gets us into trouble, as I begin nagging him to pin down our Christmas plans three months in advance, whereas he’d prefer to wait until the day before we leave. We do eventually find a happy medium, however, between advance planning and playing it by ear. Plus, he’d shop forever for things like MP3 players or computers if I let him, but we only actually own these things because I’m the one who puts my foot down and tells him to JUST BUY IT ALREADY, while he stops me from buying a lot of crap on a whim, forcing me instead to at least try two different stores before purchase. So it’s all good.

I think our differences balance our relationship, and make us stronger as a team. Thirteen years can’t be wrong.