I need a vacation

Beacause you know what? Its midnight. And Madelyn has been up four times since she went to bed. At nine.
This is becoming a nightly thing and its making me wonder, although shes only five months and ‘they’ say no solids until six, if I should bite the bullet and go ahead and start her on cereal or something.
Not to parent via books, but Ive read that shes not filling up enough when that starts.  But those four times shes woken up? Three of them she boobed on. So…. she CANNOT be hungry anymore… can she?!

So this combined with my reccent inability to fall asleep before two am, and her eight am awke up call… Im bagged.

Anyways, yeah, I need a vacation.

Well, that works out, because Im going to get one.

And Im so. freaking. happy.

We are catching the seven am ferry off this rock Thursday morning and running some errands in Vancouver before taking the scenic route up to Pemberton for the first, and highly anticipated, Pemberton Festival. So. Stoked.

I will admit, its a hefty ticket price for the three day event, our tickets were comped by Jers station, but we would have gone regardless. I think its cool that Canada has a big concert festival. Or, at least that its trying to have one. We shall see after this year if it happens annually.

And yes, Mad is coming too. I ordered noise insulators for her. What the what, you say? Noise Insulators. We bought her the white ones. She looks a bit…. whats a pc term for retarded? Anyways, still cute as hell.

See?

And I am SO glad she likes them. Or at least tolerates them… cuz that would blow a large hole in my plan to actually see some of the bands.

So we are looking forward to three glorious, hot, music filled days. And then? Shuswap.

I havent been there since I was a kid, and man, I LOVE lakes. I cant wait to take the devil child swimming. And to see Jer introduce his Grandma to her great grandbaby. Im a sucker for that stuff.

ANd so I bid you adieu.  Fo a week and a half. Ahhhhh.

Well, lets be honest, Im addicted to the interenet (no really, my day is diapers, email, tummy time, blogs, naptime, facebook etc) and there just so happens to be internet access in the media tent, which we are privvy to. So… who knows, maybe I will update.

But I shall leave you with this, the cutest baby Ive ever gestated, thats for true.

Big Baby blues, and

She hates me, she hates me not…?

Thats a question thats been plaguing me. Seriously, for days.
But, before I start, I guess I should set the tone of this post by coming clean.  Jeremy and I… well, we didnt meet in the best way possible. Matter of fact, I still sometimes feels some guilt, maybe unnecessarily, over how we came to be.

I kind of knew who he was, I mean, I do listen to the radio station he happens to be on, but wouldnt have been able to pick him out of a crowd.
I called up his show one day, knowing full well that he was Mr. Music-around-town, asking about a favorite band of mine that was supposed to be playing a show that night. I knew he would be going.
Onwards to that evening, a couple of drinks in with a girlfriend of mine, and I cant take my eyes off of this guy, a geek really, wearing the radest sweatshirt. All night I watched the back of his head. And the girls arm entwined in his, her hand resting nicely on his hip.
Finally I found the courage (or, maybe it was the shove from my friend) and asked him about said shirt, from there it was myspace, and other shows, casual run ins, until one day he bravely asked to hold my hand, sent me the most romantic love emails and asked me when we got to get to all the ‘fun, I love you stuff’.
Beautiful, right? I think so.

But thats not the whole story.

The girl who laced her arm through his? She wasnt just no one. Just a faceless character in the story.  She was someone. She was a girl he was… well… I guess he was seeing her.
You see, he had just ended a very substantial relationship, and was nursing his wounds with a brunette nurse who had also just left someone. But from the night we met, we had eyes glued on eachother. We both wanted to follow through on an ‘us’.
I guess you could say I may have sort of befriended her, but… we werent really friends. We were aquaintances, we ran into eachother, we were on eachothers myspace friends list. But, we never went for coffee, or had a one on one chat.  I didnt know much about her, nor she about me. And, truth be told, I think she knew from the get-go that she had no hold on Jeremy, and that maybe I did.

At the end of a booze filled birthday bash, I think it finally got through, that maybe she was, I hate to use the term but, a rebound to him, and that maybe their time was through. That maybe they had been what the other one needed, a crutch to get through the hurt they felt, until they were ready to move on and up.
So… she stopped coming to shows, and she stopped talking to the both of us. And I felt some guilt for that, because even though they werent a ‘they’… they were a something. Right?

I knew she had some form of resentment for me, because she wasnt in a good and happy place when things happened. But… she moved on, and found happiness, and love, and I was happy for her, even though we werent friends.

So fast forward to last week, a babysitter and a couple of beers, and Jeremy and I head out on the town to see the band that started it all for us.  We had some friends in town and wanted to show them a good time.
Not ten minutes after we arrived however, so did the long lost girl. And I thought, what better time to start anew. And I smiled and tried to say hello to her.
And she looked right through me.

And I realized that maybe she hadnt forgiven and forgotten.  And I felt guilty again.

I felt guilty for ’stealing’ something that wasnt even there. But why?

So my issue for the past few days has been… when does the whole ‘bros before hos’ or ‘chicks before dicks’ mentality end, if ever?
WHen youre fifteen you wouldnt dare date your ex’s friends, and when your nineteen, the thought of dating your friends ex is just wrong, and if you sleep with him, youre a slut.
You stick with your girls, its like, an unspoken rule. But… when does that end?
And really, if you like someone who ’saw’ someone you know, but arent close with, should you stay away?  Youre just doing a disservice to yourself, instead of another girl, arent you? ANd what ever happened to looking out for number one?

When does following your heart come into play? And really, should you ever feel bad for doing so?

The Jar Budget.

SO Jeremy posted a blog about this, and spoke about it on the radio, and I think its garnered a lot of interest, so I decided to blog about it too.

We have inflicted a state of broke on ourselves.

We decided to put our spending and lifestyle on a diet. We have goals, we have plans, and we dont get any closer to them flittering money away on junk.

We are getting married, we have actually picked the date and place. November 10, 2009, Puerto Vallarta. I have ring expectations, no denying that. And bottom line is, the way we spend our money, I dont get my honking rock.

We want Madelyn to have a good upbringing, and dont want to worry about being able to afford things, for her or her future sibling(s).

We want to go places, own a home with a yard, invest in our lives.

Enter: The jar budget.

So, you sit down, maybe with excel, because lets face it, I love me some excel spreadsheets, and you put it all down on paper.

First, your total household income, after the tax man, before ‘life’. You can do it separately, but it was easiest in our situation,  in a two income household, to put ALL the money that comes in, because it saves having to break down ‘mine and yours’.
From that total you subtract what I refer to as you A PAYMENTS. This is the MUST list. YOur mortgage or rent, your hydro bill, cable, internet, phone, life insurance, loans. The bills.

Ok, now after those are all subtracted from your income, you have a new total.
From this total you deduct your B PAYMENTS. THis is the perks list, and it can contain anything you feel you need to have and pay for every month. Ours?  Entertainment, the gym, Baby, Groceries, Clothes/Gifts and Gas.
(Now we can argue that groceries and baby should be on the A payments list, because they are non-negotiable, but in our case it was easier for us to make A payments solely bills – dont worry though, the baby obviously gets diapers and we obviously eat.)

Here’s the key, you take out ALL the B PAYMENTS in cash, divvy it up and store it in the labeled jars.
LIVE. ON. THIS. CASH. ONLY.

(Obviously barring any emergency)

What makes this ‘diet’ work is creating a false sence of ‘broke’. When the money in your entertainment fund is out? Well, no more movies til next month. Tough luck.  You have to be strict.

The beauty? YOu can do it on any income level, and living in a cash only world allows you to build some form of savings. The money left over after all A and B PAYMENTS are out is savings. Its gravy.

In our case its diamond rings. Its vacations. Its debt free living.

Thats our goal. Opperate debt free. And we will. We just have to be frugal now. We set our bar and our goals, and we will get there.

Of course issues may arise, emergencies or WEMUSTHAVETHISNOW’s, and the money will be there, but until that time we have to pretend its not. We HAVE to, or we are constantly swimming in a circle and living paycheque to paycheque.

I think the beauty of this budget is that it CAN be adapted to anyone. You change your jar lables, you change the figures, and you MAKE yourself live within the cash flow.

Maybe the key is getting out of this ‘plastic world’ mindset we all put ourselves in. Its convinient, yes, but is it worth it?

We’ll see.

I cant get no satisfaction.

Yeah… I should be asleep now. But tonight for some reason Maddy-O has decided not to.
Well, thats not entirely true… she is, just very sporadically. And when shes not? Shes screaming.

Actually, she refused to eat before bed tonight, like RE-FUSED, so Jeremy put her down at nine thirty and she ko-ed. Since then she has been up a half dozen times, and inconsoleable.

I thought, ok, maybe shes hungry now, makes sence, right? So I whip up my shirt and plunk her down, because by now? Them boobies are FUUUUUUULL.

But no dice, this actually makes her scream more. My self-esteem is in the toilet, my own child screams at the sight of me topless. SHeesh.

So we walked around. We sang. We looked at the pictures and records on the walls. We looked out the window. She seemed to calm down.

THinking, theres no way Im going to be up again in two hours so she can eat, I tried to feed her again, to no avail. More screaming ensued.

After a few failed attempts to nurse her, or calm her in any way, I got frustrated and laid her down in her crib and walked away. Breather for mom.

So then? Dad comes in, pops a bottle of pumped breastmilk in her mouth, and she happily chows down and now? Sound. Asleep.

AHGAYUTWQ!YGSAUKHQ!@HVYHT^!GA*!!

SERIOUSLY!?

There are no words.

Oh yeah, and the diet? No way man. I lost that battle. So instead? I got my gym membership renewed and happily sweated like a pig this morning. This, I can do.

Blech.

….. I started the cabbage soup diet today. I figured it would be a good cleansing water-weight loss start, so I feel better, and like working out is actually accomplishing something.

Yeah, we started it today… and Im ready to quit already.

I dont think Im the dieting type.

*I will stick it out though…. I will.

Oy, Canada.

Ahh.

Thats a sigh, not a scream. The two have always confused me when written. I never know if Im supposed to be breathing a sigh of relief for whom Im reading, or creeping to the edge of my seat along with them. But fear not, this stat holiday, I sigh.

Its nine thirty, my baby girl is bathed, clean diapered, boobed and in bed. Out. Cold.

Jer is djing down at a local bar tonight. All can-con for the local drunkies downtown for the fireworks. I will not be partaking in the festivities this year. No, not I.

Im home, alone, and couldnt be happier. Dont get me wrong, I am very patriotic. I love my country as much as the next guy, Im just way too comfy on my couch.

I have, in the past, donned canada day deely boppers or fashioned a dress out of a flag and cheerfully shouted patriotically with the masses. But not this year.

I have drank luke warm beer out of plastic cola bottles, shared cigarettes with strangers and peed in (mostly) abandoned parking lots. But not this year.

This year I wandered about with my family in the glorious sunshine this afternoon, bbqued my man and me some dinner, and tucked in my kidlett.

I have had her puke on me this year, no need for a drunk teenager sardined in beside me.  I would rather watch online episodes of Mad Men (my new obsession) instead of this city’s terrible excuse for a fireworks display. Maybe Im getting old, but I just dont feel the urge this year.

So now? Now Ima sit down and read a book and drink a very good cup of coffee.

THAT is my idea of a good time, this year.