MammaSteph in Wonderland...

It's that time of year again! Time to battle the crowds, wait in endless line-ups, pay five dollars for a bottle of water, and try darn hard to scrub Scooby Doo off my hand before heading in to work the next day. Yes, my friends, Wonderland is officially open for business.

I love love love Wonderland. I've been through those gates countless times, and yet, I still get a rush when I get past security & into the park. Perhaps it's just the amusement park atmosphere in general...or the mere fact that, when all's said & done, I'm a big kid at heart.

Only one thing thew me off on our latest visit. And let this be a lesson to anyone who reads this: There are times when the right thing to do is offer to pay for drycleaning. Here's an example of when you should do this:

Hubby, kids & I were waiting in line for the Taxi Jam ride (a roller-coaster for kiddies...but soooo much fun for adults too!). As often happens in long line-ups, we developed a camraderie with our fellow riders. Niceties were exchanged along with a few laughs....and then IT happened. At first, I didn't know what that splattering sound was, but once the shrieks of disgust followed, I soon realized that a young child had lost his lunch...ALL OVER THREE PEOPLE IN LINE. Yes, eeew! Double-ewwww. The eeewiest thing about it, however, is that fact that the parents of the upchucker didn't even have the decency to turn to the victims of splatter to apologize. Huh?!?!! Apologize, for crying out loud! One lady had to remove her sweater - totally unwearable - and probably had to cut her trip short. It was, afterall, a chilly night. I suggested she visit a giftshop to purchase a hoodie. But don't you think it would have been nice of the parents of the child to offer a ten or a twenty for cleaning or to put toward purchasing a sweater? Okay, granted not everyone can just throw twenties around. Understood. But, at the very least, turn these innocent bystanders & offer a sincere apology. Ugh! That behaviour, more than the regurgitation-fest, was the most disgusting part of the whole incident.

Obliteration of the blackboard...

It's back-to-school for me. Oh, not as a full-time student, no no no. I've taken it upon myself to "étudier le français". It's a weekly three-hour lesson, and I must say, I'm pretty excited about it.

School isn't what it used to be, however. Keep in mind that I haven't been in school for over 14 years (yikes!). Back in the old days, we couldn't register online because the Internet wasn't so widely used. Now that you've got some background, I'll proceed to explain just how I ended up with oeuf on my visage.

Mme Bellair told us outright that we'd have homework each week. Fine, no problem. She also mentioned that such homework would be posted on the BLACKBOARD for all of us to review. Fine, no problem. She then proceeded to continue with the lesson. Fine, no problem.

I sat there, with my notebook & pen (though it felt more like I was holding a stone tablet & chisel...HELLO OLD LADY!) & waited for her to put the homework up on the board. With only twenty minutes remaining in the class, I finally piped up to figure out when this assignment would be outlined on the blackboard. She kindly explained that I should "check back tomorrow, Stephanie". Hmmmmm....Not fine, big problem....I only attend classes on Wednesday. "Uh, Mme Bellair, how am I supposed to check back tomorrow if I'm not at school on Thursday? Can't you just put it up there now?"

Ready for the oeuf? Here it comes...

"Mais non, Stephanie! You LOG ON to your BLACKBOARD ONLINE and I'll post all assignments there. You DO know how to use the Internet, don't you?" EHEM...MAIS OUI!

So there you have it.... Now where oh where did I put my reading glasses and dentures?

Mother's Day Mania

Don't get me wrong; I like Mother's Day just as much as the next mom. It's just that thinking of the day itself gives me a migraine. And indigestion. And sometimes I break out into a rash. Other than that, I love Mother's Day. Truly.

Perhaps we make too much of a day created by the lovely folks at Hallmark & Carlton. We've come to expect so much. Okay, I'll eliminate the "we" & turn it into an "I". Not fair for me to speak on your behalf, is it? Sorry.

I've come to expect too much. Those damn commercials with happy moms (who apparently wake up with make-up perfectly intact & not a hair out of place!) being brought breakfast in bed or rushing to get ready for their dinner reservations while putting on their new diamond earrings (a gift for only the most deserving of moms, I might add) won't go away! Why oh why do I fall pray to the wizards of advertising? I'm not a shallow person...not always.

The reality of Mother's Day for me is zooming from place to place, trying to accomplish the mother's day visits owed to our own moms (the deserve it, after all), while trying to to be too disruptive of my children's schedules (meals need to be ingested & naps taken) & perhaps trying to get in some time for myself as well. I'm a mom too, you know!

This manic feeling isn't exclusive only to Mother's Day. I should be fair here. I also tend to develop an ulcer around Father's Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas & Easter. Days that conjure up images of laughter, food & comfort tend to give me a severe pain on the left side of my head & stabbing pangs in my stomach as though I'm being impaled.

That being said, maybe it'll be different this year. Never say never, right? Manic or simply serene, I wish all mammas a blissfully happy (or bearable) Mother's Day. After all, you deserve it!