Meet criminal Barbie

If you read my last post you know that naked Barbie dolls are littering my backyard, turning¬†the space between the cedars and the school yard fence into¬†the set of a slasher film. Venture back there and you’ll see a dozen naked blondes covered in dirt, painted eyes staring vacantly up at the sky.

Of course I wasn’t happy about this (Barbies aren’t cheap!) but as we also established in the last post, I am not¬†great at attending to domestic chores in a timely manner.

Now it seems the Barbies have suffered yet another indignity. One that involves being shoved through the holes in the fence so Harmony and her friends can play with them at recess.

I know this because I was asked to stay after school and speak to the teacher about it. I also know this because a young boy was apparently “quite traumatized”¬†by¬†finding naked girl dolls in the school sandpit.¬†I also know this because¬†I happened to see Mermaid¬†Barbie sitting on the Principal’s desk during¬†a meeting that, thankfully, was NOT called to discuss the tiny sex offender living in my house.


So we had a talk with Harmony about not bringing toys to school, and about why a little boy might be surprised to find a naked female form that looks nothing like his mother buried in his playground.

Shame on me for thinking that would be the end of it. Double shame on me for not realizing what she was doing outside the next morning before school.

Can you guess?

Yup. PUSHING THE BARBIES BACK THROUGH THE FENCE. A tidy little “F you” to the powers that be including, or perhaps especially, her mother.

Then, later that day at recess, my little criminal upped the ante by lying to the teacher who came to investigate the crowd gathered around the sandpit.

Harmony, whose credibility might have been hurt by the fact that she was sporting a leopard-print vest, pink tights, blue rain boots and a tiara, could sense her reign of terror was coming to end. Refusing to go quietly, she calmly lied through her baby teeth and said¬†“Nope, no Barbies here.”

To his credit, the teacher figured out pretty quickly that he was being sold a bill of goods. A bill of dirty, naked, anatomically incorrect goods.¬†So he reached into his arsenal of shame and manipulation tactics and said: “Harmony,¬†you empty my bucket when you don’t tell the truth so I’m going to give you to the count of three to tell me what’s going on here.”

Finally, Harmony caved. But not until he got to three, of course.

Now, all of this wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t been elected¬†Chair of the Parent Council last week.¬†Thankfully, I insisted the morality clause be removed from my contract¬†but how long until I’m impeached is anyone’s guess.




Solo Mission. Day something or other

It’s official. Pinterest is ruining my life.

Just when I thought popsicle stick houses were the epitome of craftiness, along comes a website full of crazy shit you are supposed to MAKE. ALL BY YOURSELF. And don’t even get me started on Etsy. Do they have Etsy Visa cards yet? Asking for a friend.

Harmony, God bless her, is so supportive and thrilled to do new¬†projects with me. She’s just happy to be spending time together. And although I¬†will never say no to “Mommy, will you do a craft with me?” I do¬†need¬†to¬†have a frank conversation with myself about¬†the limits of my abilities.

Today, for example, I spent 2 HOURS searching for craft supplies to make end of year thank you gifts for H’s teachers, support workers and day care ladies. Needless to say, what seemed like a good idea at the time now has me seriously questioning my sanity. “Channel your inner Martha Stewart” my girlfriend told me. Well, I found this a bit insulting because Martha Stewart, as everyone knows, is a former¬†prison bitch. I’m not sure what my friend meant by this but I will be taking¬†it¬†up with her at a later date.

I’m not crafty. I’m not handy. I can barely cook and I sure as hell can’t sew. Every time I go into Michael’s I feel like Julia Roberts on¬†Rodeo Drive in “Pretty Woman.”¬†(Because I sense judgement, not because I’m a prostitute).

Nailed it

Snowflake cookies. Nailed it

And what could I, craft rookie and mere mortal, possibly CREATE that could be better than an LCBO, Starbuck’s or Cineplex gift card? NOTHING, that’s what. I might as well have taken $50, lit it on fire and had a nap.

And then there’s the card. How to put down in words everything they do for us?

“Dear Mrs. R, thank you for being such a great teacher and for calling me to tell me Harmony wasn’t wearing underwear on play day. That¬†kind of thing must happen all the time right? Haha. You must see some pretty crazy stuff. Anyway, you’ll be happy to know we now have a mandatory check at the front door. Have a great summer!”

Dear Miss T, thank you for being such a terrific reading buddy. And especially for letting me know that Harmony wore a sundress and sandals (with socks!!) that day in January. Thanks to you we now pack spare clothes in her bag every day, and I make her dad send me a photo before they leave the house. Enjoy your time off!”

So after a morning filled with regret and self doubt, I took the dogs to the park in order to de-stress and reflect on the hours I could have spent watching Netflix. Here, they proceeded to roll in the garbage, animal feces, and dead rodents embedded in the grass, a bouquet of scents that is, as we speak, transferring onto my freshly laundered bedding.

I smell like poop

I smell like poop

But things are looking up because tomorrow I get to see this angel and have both my girls together under the same roof for 3 sleeps.

Miss L

Miss L

And if things don’t work out with this crafting and parenting thing, I can always look for a new line of work.


Solo Mission, Day 8 – We Are Family

Question: What do pancakes, paints, a hairbrush and a labrador retriever have in common? Answer: They are all things my little darlings managed to fight over before 9:00 am.

Yesterday did not get off to a great start, but we rallied with an outdoor craft session. Of course it took more time¬†to get everything set up than they spent actually doing the crafts, but I’m learning that this is pretty much standard for any activity.¬†Same reason I don’t bother with lingerie.

Realizing I'm about to snap, they are on their best behaviour.

Realizing I’m about to snap, they are on their best behaviour.

After crafts, lunch and a little separate play time we took the dogs to the park where we added leashes, poop bags, blades of grass and air to the list of combat-inducing items.¬†Back home, it was time to get ready for the day’s main event: a “goodbye party” for Leila in her foster home.

We loaded the car with snacks and cued up Frozen, their favourite movie. They’ve even started calling each other Elsa and Anna. Harmony is Elsa because she has the dress and Leila is Anna because she likes reindeer. Yes, I know it doesn’t make sense but¬†you don’t question 4-year old logic if you know what’s good for you. You also pretend you have no idea where Anna is when your dog does this and you are forced to give her a very un-princesslike burial in the garbage.

How's she supposed to build a snowman now Austin??

How’s she supposed to build a snowman now Austin??

So there was peace in the land until they started taking their alter egos a little too far and fighting over who was being mean to who (whom?) in the movie. Somehow I resisted the urge to pull over and run screaming into the forest and we completed our journey.

It was a beautiful party, complete with food, cake, sangria and presents for Miss L.

The guest of honour

The guest of honour


Mmmm…. icing flowers.

There was also an intensely competitive game of princess dress baseball. Oh wait, that was just Harmony.

Laser focus

Laser focus

It’s true what they say, it does take a village. Both my girls spent time in this home and both are better for it. This family is an incredible source of support and we¬†owe them so much. They raised and loved each girl¬†as though she was their own. For us, the meaning of family and who we consider family has been forever redefined.