How To Leave Your Spouse

Kelly, Trish, Leanne, Elena: Four Women on a Wild Weekend (August 2011)

I’ve often told my husband that the perfect gift for me is 24 hours alone in a boutique hotel. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m joking.

But this weekend, I’m getting something better: a writing weekend away with my wordbitches, Elena, Trish and Gigi.

Inspiration 101: the view from Elena's cabin

If you wish to plan your own weekend away, I’ve shared some tips that are well-researched (i.e. one afternoon on Twitter in Starbucks) in my latest humor column, which was published yesterday in The Calgary Herald.

Six Tips and One Bombshell on How to Leave Your Spouse with the Kids for the Weekend

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Also, while you’re playing hop, skip, and jump, feel free to check out my latest offering at NickMom.com:

Similarities between Justin Bieber and a Ken Doll

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What’s your ideal weekend away?

How To Drive Your Parents To Drink

When I tweeted this, I likely should’ve shut my computer.

To be fair, the ball wasn’t exactly a volleyball. It was a globe. An inflatable one.

Vivian and William were using the sofa that divides the kitchen from the living room as a net. And they were spiking.

Meanwhile, I was drinking club soda from a stemmed glass, trying to convince myself that my drink had the alcohol content of Everclear. Or at least Bud Light.

The serves and spikes continued, with the globe ricocheting around our house like a pinball trying to flee a 1980s arcade game.

After one of William’s wild serves, the ball skidded across our kitchen island, taking 1990s relics – CDs and newspapers – with it.

“Enough!” I said.

My discipline was greeted by giggles, contagious ones.

I grabbed the ball, zinged it down the stairwell into the basement, and slammed the door.

More giggles. William tried to wedge me away from the basement door.

Vivian’s eyes grew bigger as did her smile. “Come here, Will,” she said. “I have a plan.”

William went to her, and she whispered things in his ear.

And that was how I came to find myself staking out my basement door while a Mini-Pops version of the CIA met in my kitchen.

With a grin on his face, William swaggered back to me, leaned against the wall, and waited.

I heard the fridge door open.

“Mom…” Vivian said with a singsong lilt. “I’m eating the rest of the cheese sticks.”

I eyed the cluster of processed plastic in her hand and said:

“Dinner’s in ten minutes.” I added, before wedging my hip further into the basement door.

“I’m going to eat them all, Mom,” she said, “unless you come get me.”

Vivian held all five cheese sticks up and pranced a bit. Then she peeled the plastic skin off one and bit into it.

Okay, I thought, I’ll play.

“Give those to me!” I lunged at her, grabbed four cheese sticks, and heard William stomp down the basement door to retrieve the inflatable ball.

What ensued was an impromptu game, a cross between Chase Me and Keep Away. From afar, it may have resembled a rugby match in a small space with breakable items, like stemware and the bones of a 40-year-old woman.

Finally, the oven buzzer rang.

“Game over!” I yelled. “Out of the kitchen. Please.”

Vivian and William knew the final whistle when they heard it. They shuffled to the living room.

I sipped my soda water and rescued the animal-formerly-known-as chicken from the oven.

That’s when I heard William say this: “Viv? Can you help me find something I can slingshot?”

Send a six pack, please.

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What has nearly driven you to drink recently?

A Fun Intrepretation of the Year of the Dragon

Gung Hay Fat Choy!

The Chinese character for dragon

It’s the Year of the Dragon according to the Chinese calendar. You likely already know a few dragons, and I’m not referring to your in-laws, either.

People who were born in 1940, 1952, 1964, 1976, 1988, and 2000 are dragons.

Babies born in 2012 will also be dragons. I’m sure their mothers will agree that they’ve created a fire-breathing menace at some point during delivery. Or maybe the moms will want to slay their husband’s dragon so they don’t end up in labor again.

William's classmate gave him some Chinese coins in celebration of the Year of the Dragon

Although my twins are monkeys and I’m a pig (insert your own joke), I thought in honor of Chinese New Year, I’d give the Dragon its due, Ironic Mom style. Below, then, are 5 Characteristics of Dragons, adapted.

People born in the Year of the Dragon are purportedly …

 … flexible. There is an excellent chance that they will have a successful career with Cirque du Soleil, unless they’re dropped on their head as a baby or during a show.

brave. During childhood, they may do things like carve their names into their parents’ minvan. With rocks.

tactless. As husbands, they will say things like, “You’re the third funniest woman I’ve ever met.” (Incidentally, my husband was born in the Year of the Hoarder. Less incidentally, my husband did say that. He thought it was a compliment).

enterprising. As a mom, a dragon-woman will be able to use flat-irons for various tasks, some involving her hair.

passionate. For crying out loud, this is a family blog, people. I’m not even going to suggest combining passionate with the other four characteristics above.

Assuming you’re interested in double entendres, please head over to the writing blog I co-author, Wordbitches, where I’ve collected the 25 Most Hilarious Pick-Up Lines for Writers. Much laughter awaits, I promise.

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 Meanwhile, in the comment section below, tell me what your Chinese Zodiac sign is and what characteristics you supposedly possess. If you need to know your what your symbol and characteristics are, I suggest stealing a placemat from a Chinese restaurant. If there’s not one nearby, please consult the results compiled by my overworked research assistant, Mr. Wikipedia.