Here's to a cheap and lazy 2008

The Bumps are spending a quiet, peaceful, family-oriented New Year's Eve.

Today we went out in the sled. More snow fell last night and it wasn't too cold so I even managed to get dressed and take some photos. And that really says something because I am DAMN lazy.

OK, so Bumper is not on a sled. It's a flat box with a rope tied through the front. Seriously folks, have you seen the prices of those damn flimsy pieces of probably toxin-laden sleds at the store? ... OK... yes, it's true: I'm cheap.


But this post isn't about my laziness or cheapness. I'm here to wish you and your loved ones a peaceful welcome to 2008.

Bumper on the other hand is planning on rockin' out and making trouble wherever she goes.


What's that saying about the apple falling in close proximity to the tree?

Oh whatever... anyhow:


A huge thank you to everyone out there that reads motherbumper (and doesn't send me hate mail/comments - to you I say CENSORED).

Read you in 2008!

pass the baby cheese platter please

Oh yes, it's been quiet here in motherbumperland but in the so-called "real" world, the Bumps have been bumping and stomping around celebrating the birth of the Baby Cheese, I mean Jesus, in classic consumer style.

Yup, she wished the baby cheese a happy birthday. Oh well. Close enough.

everything is going to be okay baby cheese

So yes, we did the usual festivities, spoiled each other rotten, sang the 12 days of Christmas until we made Bumper beg us to stop, ate way too much good food, drank just about enough good cheer, and discovered the frightening side of Christmas.

Yes, the scary side of Christmas.

I thought it would be fun to watch the classic Christmas specials that I loved in my childhood. You know, stuff like the stop-animation Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Little Drummer Boy.

An entire box set was available at the store so I snapped it up, envisioning a Christmas afternoon curled up on the sofa watching the crappy endearing TV specials of my youth.

OK - you can stop laughing now.

Oh motherbumper, haven't you learned anything in your two short years of parenting? Apparently I keep forgetting the gold standard: what I envision is not what will unfold.

So back to a nightmare at motherbumper Christmas:

Remember this guy?
Yes, well this handsome devil now stars in all my daughters nightmares.

Fun f'ing times.

And Little Drummer Boy? Between the kidnapping and all around negative aura of this show, I'm shocked that I'm not more warped (keep it to yourself folks).

I'm scared to watch anymore of the shows that I remember so fondly. This little box set is going to be shelved for a few years... until she develops her love of horror films like her parents.

Peace out people, it's date night and I've got to start putting on my face. Natural beauty like mine takes hours to create.

sofa song

overheard this morning in casa bump:

me: leave daddy alone bumper, he's trying to beat Slash.

GH3 for the wii rocks - 'nuff said.

The Elf of Christmas Past

Wordless Wednesday
(omg it's so freakin' hard not use words...)

This photo is just over a year old.

Those tights would barely come up to Bumper's knees these days.

It took every ounce of my maturity (8 fluid ounces in case you were wondering how much I possess) NOT to post another picture of the ice PEN is. Oh yes, I have more than one shot of the icy love gun, the one I posted is actually the least offensive according to SB.

It's official, now all eight ounces of maturity are completely gone and been replaced with rum. Festive, eh?

this is about as romantic as we get around these parts

So remember that storm from this past weekend? Well we were completely prepared and had no problems - we didn't even lose power which was kind of a bummer because there was a bit of anticipation in using the battery operated stuff like the headlamps - I love wearing a headlamp.

Actually when Bumper broke the reading / bedside lamp in our bedroom a couple of months back, I really loved reading by the headlamp. It gave my night ritual a bit of Blair Witchiness which was invigorating to say the least. Oh and it also gave me an excuse to go to IKEA. Like I need an excuse but you know what I mean.

Hey - did I ever tell you about the first night SB and I moved in together?

What do you mean TMI?

No no, this isn't that kind of of story... oh pleeeeeze, this is a clean-cut blog. HA!

Anyhow, on our first night together as roomies he thought that it would be super fun to scare the crap out of me in our new diggs.

So SB waited until I drifted off to sleep and then proceeded to sneak up to the side of my bed and jump up and go all Jason Voorhees on my butt. Not cool or romantic in any way, shape, or form.

Seriously - I almost stabbed my future husband that night. My only recollection of that particular practical joke aftermath was perhaps holding him a bit too firmly around the throat saying something like "if you ever do that again, you won't see the light of day - capisce?" or something equally loving and romantic.

Isn't that true romance?
We took these photos on the night of our engagement
In case you are wondering: yes it's a wig and I'm on the right

But as usual, I'm getting off track.

Snowstorm - yes, that is what I was originally talking about. So we were prepared and nothing big happened but I did leave one of the bedroom windows open more than a crack. Since our places is hotter then the average rain forest it wasn't noticeable but when I whipped back the curtains yesterday I noticed a big chunk of ice had formed inside.

This chunk of ice made me laugh really hard and as proof of my immaturity I snapped it off like my name was Bobbitt and threw it in the bathroom sink before running off to get the camera (I am a blogger after all).

When I uploaded the photos I was shocked at how it wasn't my imagination, this ice was phallic.

Ice, ice, baby indeed:


Let's leave it at: the storm tried to f**k with me and I showed it who's the boss.

So how many 80s and 90s references can be unintentionally crammed into one post? Well okay, the last one was done on purpose but "oh my holy influential years batman" it is painfully obvious what decades influenced my thought and speech patterns, isn't it? Gag me with a spoon, I'm so impressionable. Like OMG!

crazy carpet phobia and other stuff

If I was still physically as opposed to just mentally a kid, there would be a slight resentment towards today's kind of weather. I'd be totally ticked that a weather system would have the nerve to do it's thing on a weekend - as opposed to dumping it's magic on a school day.

Snow days rocked when I was a kid.

Even if the power went out (it often did) - the fireplace and reading by flashlight was always cool - sometimes literally.

Anyhow, getting out of school was always fun.

Close to our home was a really great sledding hill and when the snow would finally let up, that triple whammy of a incline was one of the best places to be.

Personally, the crazy carpets always went far too fast for me but I loved the potential neck-breaker wooden toboggan and the flying saucer (photo source). If memory serves correctly, ours was red with yellow handles.

Moving back into today world:

Today would have been a perfect day to go sledding across the street on the small hill. But the snow never stopped long enough. And it was freaking cold all day long.

Last time I checked something around 20 cms had fallen.

Earlier today during one of the snow breaks Bumper wanted to go outside.

Unaware of just how freaking cold it was outside she put up a fight and refused to put on her jacket. We found a compromise.

Here she is in her boots, snow pants, and my jacket. Or as I like to call it a full length evening ski dress.


So we haven't had any problems with the snow which keeps falling and falling and falling and falling.

We prepped for this one, thanks to the media scare tactics weather warnings and the grocery and video store were both covered.


BTW, we didn't go with her choice. We went with this and will be watching it tonight.

Speaking of tonight (nice segue), the snow is supposed to let up by 11 tonight.

Back in the motherbumper school days - are you getting dizzy yet from all the back and forth through time? - anyhow, back then, a late night snow fall meant that there was still a possibility that school could be cancelled in the morning.

I'd hang on that radio station over breakfast the next morning, shushing anyone who dared to speak or make noise during the reading of cancelled schools and events. My fingers would be crossed, my eyes squeezed shut (because it made listening that much easier - it's true), and I would be just hoping to hear my schools name read.

Even if I awoke to find the roads had been efficiently cleared during the wee hours (damn you, you organized city planners), I'd still listening for a burst pipe or something cold-weather related. Boiler problems and unstable pipes were always a plus going to school in a building worthy of a museum.

But if no radio announcement came there was consolation in the fact that the playground at lunch time was going to be an awesome landscape of forts and fights for the next few days.

Snow forts rocked especially when I was short enough to take full advantage of them.

Okay, it's time to get back to today world and go play some Guitar Hero III. It's completely addictive and you can considered yourself warned. See ya.

any excuse to play

Continuing on the "toys that motherbumper finds fun" theme this week - I'm over in my lab today reviewing Little Tikes toys.

If you have been wondering how durable and what are the quality of the photos from the Little Tike My Real Digital Camera, here is your chance to see some of Bumper's works of art.


There are also some great gift ideas for under 20 bucks.

So Lights, Camera, and LOTS OF ACTION!

1970 redux: motherbumper style

Once again, Wordless Wednesday executed without the silence:


Way, way back in the rocking Seventies, wee little motherbumper loved - LOVED - her FP toys.

Scratch that:

Motherbumper loves her FP toys and was over the moon to unearth them on the most recent trip to see the creators of motherbumper.

Bumper now shares her mother's love of tiny plastic, retro, completely sterile, cookie-cutter world of Fisher-Price. It was hard to leave them there but it is where they belong.

A huge portion of this post just fell to the cutting room floor because I can only push the Wordless Wednesday rules so far.

Not feeling very rebellious today. That means I need more coffee. Headed to Starbucks to mainline java.

got ink?

Not all shopping this time of year is stressful for me. Sure some of it sucks but I think Christmas shopping can be fun under the right circumstances.

Best circumstance: alone.

Worst circumstance: with a "hair-trigger loaded with unpredictable tantrum throwing" toddler.

But in recent weeks the toy shopping part is probably the best shopping I've done with a two year old. To her it's just fun to play with all the toys while I check out as much stuff in the radius said-toy accommodates me (mobile object? excellent/ honkin' huge? affords a 5-ft radius max because she's a fast one).

Despite the occasional plea to take some of the toys home, it's a small risk and it really makes shopping much, much easier. This will only last as long as the distraction ploys at the end of the store visit continue to work. Otherwise it's back to consumer restraint due to store-hating toddler (which is a good thing actually but damn, I love shopping sometimes).

Speaking of shopping, in another ol' college try at consumer restraint, we are trying to not go overboard this year. Admittedly, we have had some momentary wavers, but restraint has been applied more often than not. I think.

That all said, it's still fun to check out the toy departments.

My brother and I used to mark the pages in the Sears Wishbook with our demands requests. Marketing completely worked on me - I wanted at least one toy on every page.

It was fun because it was cool to drool and dream but knowing that I'd be a happy kid even if I got just one item on the huge list. I don't think I was every disappointed with my gifts. Except for the pony. Still waiting on that pony.

Anyway, my parents usually bought what they knew we would like and not be done with by the time Christmas dinner had been served.

Not that I would have stopped playing with the pony by dinner. I'm just saying.

But I'm pretty sure that my parents had as much fun as I am these days.

Anyhow, a toy that made me laugh out loud on a recent shopping trip (it also prompted a picture because I am a blogger after all):

just what every mother
dreams of her child doing to their body

You know, I'm pretty sure I would have circled that in the old wishbook catalogue.

Actually, I'm dead certain my childhood self would have totally wanted this toy for Christmas. Come to think about it, I probably would of also hatched a scheme/dream to sell tattoos to all my friends.

But I'm getting off track. Bottom line, toys are a damn fun part of my Christmas tradition, and I love shopping for them.

And of course, playing with them.

Speaking of playing, Bumper won't let me play with Mr. Potato Head anymore.

I can't help but admit this denial makes me want to steal the mister and all his accessories out of her room after bedtime.

Is that immature?

Anyone else not allowed to play with their kid's toys by order of child? Or is it just me and my whacked out Mr. P creations?

I also really loved Alligator Al but not enough to name my kid after him

Bumper's two favorite daily activities here in Bumperland are making huge messes and drawing.

Actually I do the drawing, she does the requests. I try to draw what ever she dreams up.

I don't mind, it brings out the Mr. Dressup in me.

Oh man I loved that show. It's surprising I didn't name my first born Casey or Finnegan - even though I really do love both names.

When Mr. Dressup would start drawing on that easel with the big markers, it would make me swoon. He could draw anything and everything flawlessly. My love of markers, pastels, charcols, can count Mr. D as a major influence.

Holy tangent batman...

Anyhow, Bumper likes to tell me what to draw and it's fun. Sometimes it's spiders, or cats, or houses, or flowers, or germs or whatever is on her mind. But most of the time it's daddy, mommy, and BUMPER! in that order.

She starts with a blank face shape and then tells me everything she wants: eyes, big eyes, 'lashsis, nose, teeny nose, etc. The outcome is almost always funny.

But lately I've noticed a trend. The daddy frown, mommy frown trend:


Notice her smile. It's not like she doesn't know what a smile is but do we get to have one? I don't think so.


The shocked looked in the second one was purely bad pupil drawing but the slightly devilish look on B's face... I have no idea where that came from.

We don't really frown that much, I think she just loves my reactions. She's already showing signs of being a total joker - just like her dad.

And even during these days of illness, the fact that it is minus "OM-F**NG-G weather like this is so wrong" degrees outside (I'm a wuss when sick - and pretty much in any other condition), and my stroller sucks in this weather, ..... and whatever other excuses to stay at home are available - despite all this, we still must get exercise. And she is sick of getting mail and going to the laundry room.

Without exercise, bedtime would be awful.

So when we aren't dancing, some form of jumping is going on:

Caught mid-air. In suitable shorts. But they belong to someone else.

Come to think of it, they suit him too.

motherbumper PSA on EWG and BPA

*** edit to add: I'm also talking about this over at BlogHer's Act Canada ***

oh how I love acronyms

Have you heard about the Environmental Working Group and the baby safe program? I just learned about them from The League of Maternal Justice - who is currently blogging about it - LIVE!

The mission of the EWG is to "use the power of public information to protect public health and the environment".

My heart is aflutter and my brain is alearning.

How can a group that "shames and shakes up polluters and their lobbyists" and "rattles politicians and shapes policy" be anything but f'ing awesome? It can't because it is so obviously awesomeotasitic to the nth degree.

Rattling, shaping, shaming, and shaking are super sexy when it comes to activism.

Go on over to LMJ and learn more from Sonya Lunder, EWG Senior Analyst who is talking about BPA in baby formula.

Bumper With Attitude says
"Get BPA outta the formula you foolish corporations -
ovarian cysts are not cool"

Riders on the Storm

Yesterday was a very loooooooong day.

Bumper and I hung out in some of my least favourite hang outs: airports and planes.

We were outrunning that storm. You know, the one that shat on the Midwest and then peed with abandon on the carpet and furniture known as Eastern and Atlantic Canada.

We outran it and I have the bruises to prove it.

Oh wait, those bruises came from restraining a child who thought seat-belts were a mere suggestion by the nice ladies with cookies on DA PLANE! (must be said that way).

She's like having my own personal Tattoo.

Yesterday proved a few things to me. I can be a complete moron, if a virus exists in an enclosed space with me, I will contract it and there are still a few sweet people left in this world.

For some reason I didn't think to buy food once passing through security at the airport. Food to feed a child who happens to like food every so often. She's funny like that.

Once on board I came to this horrible realization when seated among a huge group of off-work plane employees. They all had sandwiches, snacks, and drinks because they knew what was on the menu. Sugar, sugar, and more sugar. Or alcohol (which I considered). And they also knew we were going to be on this plane for a really long time.

It was an hour on the runway getting de-iced, circling the airport at this end before landing kind of time. What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks was going through my mind when I was reading, playing, and chasing Bumper all around the airport for a couple of hours. Obviously nothing.

So it wasn't the most pleasant flight. Though the middle was okay. Free tv is like that. Actually she was really great most of the time, but the off times when "I don't blame her and she is going to melt down anyway" moments are an experience and a half.

The "waiting on the runway" and "craptastic landing" segments of the show involved me sitting back and letting her freak so she could get it all out. And it got out.

Yet despite these crazy outbursts, two separate people approached me at the baggage carousal to tell me that I was a really good parent because many would have melted down themselves.

That made me feel really good.

I instantly felt bad for being sick (a cold which I contracted on the week's previous trip).

Flying sucks. Very glad to be home. Going to read some blogs.