Our precious Susan

Dear Susan,

It has only been a couple weeks since our son made us let you go home to your family down by the river, but heck, I miss you.

I caught you in the muddy swampishness that is the mighty Red when we were having a Graham hike and immediately my daughter decided you must come home and be part of our family. She carried you all the way home (we thought she killed you at one point) and gently put you in your new Habitat home. She named you Susan. Yes, I realize you may have been a boy. So what.

I caught plenty of flies and mosquitos for you, and tried to get my children to catch them also. They didn’t. Shelby thought you would self-suffice. Oscar stressed about you missing your frog family and not being happy.

Thus…we took you back. Even though we only had you for 4 short days, you became part of our family and we will forever miss you.

(okay, actually I was afraid we’d forget you in a week so I am blogging about this so I can remind Shelby why she can’t have another freaking reptile for the rest of her life.)

Take Care Susan,

Mama Graham

P.S. Please don’t be offended if you are actually a toad instead of a frog. I don’t see breeds anyways. I love equally.

Clips of taking Susan home.

Updates you won't want to miss!!

I haven’t been keeping up with the ole' blawg lately because it’s summer and I do stuff. YES, I am more than an un-employed bum that sits at home eating chocolate covered cherries watching her stories! Actually I am nothing of that sort, but wouldn’t that be fun?

So just a couple things that you may want to know:

Firstly

I love camping. I love smelling like fire, I love seaweed and sand in my butt crack and I LOVE the hot hot sun blazing on me. And so do my kids. And so does my husband. We’re back for a bit but will head back out for the long weekend.

Shelby and I love to sit on the beach reading trashy magazines while drinking aspartame.


I learned to boat myself and my small humans clear across the lake. I may row in the next Olympics.

We had bird feeders and chipmunk dishes. We tamed them. We are one with nature.



Secondly

She did it again, only worse. Yes, that’s right. My “practically ten”year-old cooler-than-cool daughter came bounding and leaping into the living room yesterday sporting one of my bras. “See, Mom?? It fits!” she says excitingly.
I don’t know whether to be embarrassed that my 32A bra can fit a very small child or start anguishing over the thought that my adorable little girl may be ready to become a woman!

Either way, she is not getting a bra anytime soon. I don’t care if her BFF has a training one or that “Geez, Mother, its part of growing up you know….”

Advice on this issue is welcome…*hint* hint*


Thirdly

I went to the Fringe Festival the other night and saw my dear friend Serena Postel perform. I love her.
Barry purchased me some mighty fine cheap handmade jewelery pieces AND….drumroll please….I completely abstained from purchasing any cute skirts or dresses. Clap for me. Y’all know how I love me a cute dress.


So that’s my July so far, other than the occasional mutant radish I grew or the rebirth of Leonard Cohen music into my life. I hope all four (okay fine, two – love you Mom and Barry!! ) of you faithful readers are relieved to know that I’m alive and well and still able to write my deep thoughts out for you every couple weeks…

Bring Home Our Canadian Troops

Why are we still there?

The news of more Canadian soldiers killed in Afghanistan last week brought tears to my eyes. My naïve little heart has gotten to the point where I can’t even watch the TV reports. I know it’s callous and perhaps a tad ignorant to say we don’t belong there, however, I continue to struggle with the following points:

• We did not invade them and blow everything to oblivion; however we are the ones left with the mess. Where are the U.S. troops? Too busy annihilating Iraq and plotting against Iran? Are we going to go clean up those countries after the U.S. bullies them into submission?

• Is it realistic to believe that our gentle hearted Canadian forces can rebuild a corrupt society that does not want our help? We will never entirely eliminate the Taliban. They will always rise.

• How did the Canadian troops get the shitty deal of being the closest ones stationed to Kandahar – the heart of the Taliban?? Put the f*cking American troops in there!! Let our guys go build bridges on the borders and teach them to farm. WE are a peacekeeping and rebuilding people.


I can’t wrap my head around supporting a mission that sees our brave sons/daughters/brothers/sisters risking and losing their lives for a battle they cannot win. Small victories in various Afghani provinces do not compensate for the lives lost and the reality that this mission will not turn Afghanistan into a society rebuilt in Canada’s image.

Tweens - What are they good for?

You know I acted like I was all excited for summer. And I was. Until I realized that I had to spend actual time with both my children together. Yes, I love my children. But only separately. When you put them together it’s like parenting a pair of angry killer apes. Their sole motivation for waking up each morning is to think of ways to make life as miserable as possible for eachother.
“MOM…Oscar took a sip out of my cup!!”
“MOM….Shelby’s smiling at me!”

“Kids…GO PLAY IN TRAFFIC!!”

I realized they’re probably just bored so before they started gnawing on the furniture, Barry and I decided to take them to Grand Forks for the day. Besides Shelby needing some new clothes (she is growing at the rate of my steroidal lettuce), I also wanted out of the war zone house to maintain what little sanity I have.

So with portable DVD player in the car, lots of water, and sedatives (just kidding), we set out for Columbia Mall.

Now, up until now, shopping for Shelby has been a breeze. I always figured she was switched at the hospital as a baby since she got none of my passion for pink frilly things or floral ensembles. She was happy as long as she could play in mud and roll around in grass.

Well, things have changed.
We went into a store called Raw Edge. Yes, she asked if she could buy a bra. No, I did not quite have immediate heart failure. Yes, she begged and said “it doesn’t matter if you don’t have boobs- that’s what tissue is for!” *gasp* *choke*

Then she found the sunglasses. “Mom, I want Paris Hilton sunglasses.”
“But Shelby, your head is the size of a peanut.”
“Motherrrrrrrrr!!!!” she exclaims in embarrassment since I obviously didn’t care that there were a bunch of little Miss Thang 13 year olds around us.

Nothing in that store was even close to fitting her, since she’s 3 foot nothing and about 50 pound soak n wet. So off to the kids section in Target. What a relief. And luckily, there were no black skull Avril Lavigne shirts or Gwen Stefanie bustier tops there.
So what if she has to wear cute little Bambi overalls for the rest of the summer??


I’m rather enjoying my new role as mother from hell.

Paris Hilton WUZ NOT HERE!

Want to know how to offend Heather?? HEHE...I wrote this after a friend said that I was too high maintenance, just like her! HAHA...NO. Imported from April 2006.

Don't call me high maintenance. For I am not.
I won't buy the name brands as they are charging one hundred dollars for a scruff of a shirt that was made by a small poor child with insects crawling on his face. If it cost more than 30 bucks, it's not in my closet.
I don't want diamonds. Never did. If I ever get married again, I would want a simple silver band with a little blue topaz in it. 300 bucks MAX.
I don't drive a fancy car. I can't afford it. And if I could, the money would be spent on my children's education, not some big giant rims on a big giant suburban.
Yeah, I wear makeup. So what? It's my right and I don't care if you don't like girls that wear make-up. Come see me sometime in the morning and you'll be beggin for a little blush.
I don't have fake nails, fake boobs, hair extensions, or carry a poodle in my $2500 Prada purse.
I don't drink fine wines or eat sushi or talk to waiters like they are beneath me.
I'm happiest in my flower bed with dirt beneath my nails, Serena Postel blaring in my headphones whilst I spit sunflower seeds all over my paint chipped deck. In the background, my kids are gathering twigs for a wiener roast in my simple little fire pit. There's no lush carpet or thousand count thread sheets in this old house. And there never will be. It's just not me.
So tell me, friend, what made you accuse me of being "too high maintenance" for most??
Maybe those of us who are comfortable in our own skin are too intimidating for those who are not.



Yeah, this is the extent of a Heather Graham temper tantrum. Write a furious blog that you know your computerless "friend" will never read.

Riding in bandwagons with boys

I don't usually tackle anything that may cause too much controversy in my blogs since I am a big baby and refuse to argue with anyone. Well, maybe sometimes I do. Like today.
Browsing through various social networking profiles can sure educate us on the reality of society today. Especially our teens and twenty-somethings...
For instance, I sure enjoy watching some of them jump on a cause before committing themselves to the full extent of it and examining the facts from all angles.
I giggle at the cool kids who will rant in their "all about me" sections how they love puppies, world issues, and thunderstorms. Hmm....which one does not belong?
I shake my head at the do-gooders completely against animal testing whose grandparents may be undergoing chemo or radiation treatments to stop their vicious cancer from spreading.
We all want to save the children in Darfur but we're too busy buying a Gucci purse that's hotter or newer than those of the other girls we go clubbin' with.
I especially love the vegans whose pictures show them wearing a wool sweater, a string of pearls and tons of mascara and hair dye!
And do you wonder if the giant rock on princess's left finger was purchased with the guarantee that it was a conflict-free diamond?

All I'm saying, is we ought to really listen to what we're saying sometimes. We end up looking like fakes and hypocrites, and trust me, I'm not excluding myself in this category, heck, I don't even recycle!