It’s National Doughnut Day!!!  That’s almost as awesome as Christmas!  It’s better than Easter!  While chocolate is a wonderful, beautiful invention, 9 times out of 10 I’ll take a doughnut over a chocolate bar (unless it’s a sprinkle doughnut; then it would be 10 times out of 10).

On Monday, I ate 3 sprinkle doughnuts for dessert at supper and only stopped because people were looking at me sideways and whispering to each other.  Like maybe I’m not pregnant afterall and this protruding belly is completely self inflicted.  Then, on Tuesday, I ate two more at lunch and only stopped because there were no more sprinkle ones left.  Just thought I’d let you know.  Not that you wanted to, but now you do.

Now, go and have a doughnut (or 5) to celebrate my new favourite day of the year!  I probably won’t get one (ironically) because I’m too lazy to drive to the store and get some.  I prefer my doughnuts delivered and without having to ask for them.  I’m high maintenance like that. 

Guess what we’re doing this weekend.  I’ll give you a hint.  It involves little no sleep, a lot of bug repellent and a Disney Princess fishing pole. 

That’s right!  It’s trailer time again!  We’re heading to the Great Ontario North (well…the Great Ontario Central) for our first trip of the year.  And also our last trip as a threesome (sorry, Bosco, foursome).

So wish us luck that we get at least a little bit of sleep (Eirinn will be sleeping in our bed for the first time ever), that the mosquitoes aren’t too hungry, that Eirinn doesn’t fall over the edge of the boat while fishing, that the rain stays away, and that this baby doesn’t fall out.

Have a good weekend!

My Mother’s Day was like a very low key Mother’s Weekend.  Eirinn and AH took me for dinner on Saturday.  We went to Wimpy’s Diner because with Eirinn we are limited to restaurants that a) won’t kick us out for the unusually high decibel coming from our table (more specifically, from Eirinn’s mouth), b) won’t kick us out for standing on the seats (again, her, not the grown ups)(usually), and c) sell chicken nuggets or fingers (even if she only eats daddy’s toast anyway).

I didn’t need cut flowers and I don’t do indoor plants (no matter how bug-free and clean the plant is, I have this weird feeling that they are infested with aphids or ants or something that’s going to take over my house and even though I’m not afraid of bugs that thought makes me itchy with the heebee jeebees) and we don’t have any gardens yet and we still have a plethora of chocolate from Easter.  So I bought my own Happy Mother’s Day shoes while Eirinn was at home napping.

Sunday is my regular sleep-in day, so when I woke up, I was greeted with cards, a magazine and big hugs.  No breakfast in bed.  I only eat cereal and balancing a bowl of liquids on a spherical stomach containing a human whose sole purpose in life at the moment is to see if she can kick her way out didn’t really sound like something I was capable of doing first thing in the morning.  Plus, if they woke me up even 10 minutes before I was ready to wake up that would not have been good for any of the parties involved.

All weekend, including today, Eirinn has been greeting me grandly with “Happy Mudder Day!”, arms upraised, big smile on.  Then she gives me great hugs and big, sloppy kisses.  It is literally the cutest and sweetest thing ever.  And she’s been behaving herself like a little angel, with the guise that she should listen to mommy because it’s Mother’s Day.  Hey, if she thinks it’s fun to have Mother’s Day all weekend long, I do too.

We have also been giving her lessons in familial ties.  It started with some confusion over why we had to buy a present for Granny when it was Mudder Day.  We explained to her that Granny is Daddy’s mommy.  And Babba is Mommy’s mommy.  And so on and so forth.  This also meant that Granny is not Daddy’s granny and Babba is not  Mommy’s babba.  This is all very confusing to a two year old, but we worked on it and worked on it, at her request, and I think she kind of got it. 

What did everyone else do for Mudder Day?  All day pampering and spoiling?  Nice quiet day at home with the family?  Running around visiting the first generation of mothers?  Whatever you did, I hope it was wonderful.  Or at least didn’t suck.