Honor thy father and thy mother

Honor thy father and thy mother. I was reminded of this statement while reading 10 Conversations You Need to Have with your Children.

What happens when that breaks down?

My DXH and I aren't together and we share in the lives of our older two children. Regrettably we do not see eye-to-eye on almost anything (I'm hoping that is less by design, and more the differences in our parenting style).

The older ones come home tomorrow, and with it, changes, chaos, laughter, and any other emotion that they've been working through in the last week. And there in is the rub.

Tonight I got a wee bit of the flavor of the week, having stuck around the school grounds a bit to take some winter cycle photos. The older two kids spill out of the school and catch my attention and start chattering at me. CU-1 has his hair died white again (a la Annie Lennox). I can deal with that. He's only been doing that since this kid was eight. It's CU-2 that's making my head spin, my stomach heave with anticipation ... the rage, the frustration.

In a matter of a few short minutes the feeling of creativity - to continue with my personal photo assignment, and of joy in the anticipation of their return tomorrow is drained while CU-2 starts the tantrum.

I quickly get a lecture. She sounds like her Father when she does that. No reasoning behind what she says. So, out comes the gush of verbal diarrhea. She hates her school. She wants to change. She wants me to call her friend to invite her to pizza night. She has to do everything herself. Her father hasn't followed up on a health treatment because he called the doctor and the doctor said ... Doctor? What doctor? I was at the doctor this week and there was no conversation. School issues? Huh? There's just not enough time to address everything in the short time we have while she passes between school and car. I barely have time to take a breath!

It's clear that she's angry with the inequality with how she is treated. (It's a known fact that the first born on his side of the family is the cream. Everyone else is second, and second is not the place to be.)

Oh Nelly, it's going to be a hell of a week.

Next story will be lighter. I don't want to be completely blowing my resolution so early!

The magacian

Today we visited Grandma Dirk. Actually, we first did an exchange. CU-3 for Grandma D's car so that I could take CU-4 for what was supposed to be his 1 year booster shots. Turns out you can't get 'em if you're less then a year old, so today was just a check up and The Huz is going to have to reschedule.

Anyway, we did have a visit with Grandma Dirk, and helped her with her bathroom vanity replacement dilemma by a trip to Ikea.

We also got to pick-up The Huz, aka Papa, who was getting his check up with the dentist. All this is vicarious information leading up to the story. '

There's a thing about the men in my husband's family. It seems they have a hard time keeping their pants on. (No no. Not necessarily only for that reason.) When ever CU-4 gets the chance, he takes his pants off and runs around in his diaper. (The Huz will strip down too, but usually only in the winter, and that's down to the not-so-sexy waffle weave long johns.)

Today CU-4 took it one step further. He took off his diaper too. This becomes an issue when one is visiting. If it were my house, I wouldn't be so worried. But, this is Grandma Dirk's house and she likes things just so. So there I am quietly panicking that CU-4 is going to get hit with a blast of air, while crawling on my hands and knees all over the place trying to find the miscreant diaper. I mean it's no where to be found. It's not only worrying, it's weird.

I dig out my super special extra diaper from the vortex called my hand bag and go about duly covering the boy's bits when I hear my mother start to laugh, and laugh hard. "I found it!" Oh gawd, I think.

DU-4 had apparently removed the lightly soiled diaper and put it away in her linen drawer - perhaps for later use as the box says they're good for up to 27 lbs.

How does he pick 'em?

Ok, Jonathan over at BlogFriday really did a number on me this time with a world like incongruous. I thought I knew the definition, but it still sent me to the dictionary to confirm my understanding.

That activity reminded me of a former manager. To say that we were incongruous would be polite. There were times when we butt heads over me trying to understand what he was saying (and yes, he spoke English), that I would bring a dictionary to meetings with us. As impolite as that sounds, I wanted to make sure that the words he was using had the same meaning as to how he was using them. (He liked to use $25 words that he didn't understand which made it near impossible to successfully complete an assigned task.)

Anyway, I digress just a bit, as I think I'm fulfilling the need to use this word in a blog post, which reminds me of the story that sent me to write the blog in the first place.

My older siblings (who are closer then age then I am to them), when they reach high school together, found that high school wasn't academically exciting enough for them, so they began a challenge. Their challenge was that they would pick an obscure word out of the dictionary and would have to use the word in what every assignments they had to write for the week. I think it was an ingenious plan to make an otherwise dull paper on Waiting for Godot more interesting, even if it was just for an inside joke.

Me no funny

I've vowed to be more funny and have move fun in 2008. Regrettably, I send to use the funniness in real time and it just doesn't overlap onto the blog - just the detritus and mongo that sullies things.

I'm working on it. I promise. (And to me, a promise is a strong thing.)

I've got good stories to tell, like Grannie getting buried in her pink nightie. (Actually that's a Grandma Tim story to tell, and it can bring tears of laughter to your eyes. Man, she's funny.) Ok, so, they might be repeats of other people's good stories. But I'll get some of my own.

For now, I'll amuse you with some of our different family rules - this goes for the benefit of my Cali connection who may be feeling her rule is being overly challenged.

#1: Don't come home until you've had enough fun.
Usually told to a child who's going to a friend's to play. It's the parting salutation.

#2: No having fun in the house.
This is because the kids were yelling at one another and/or complaining they were bored. It was a way to try to counter the negative thinking at the time.

#3. CU-2 is forbidden to eat bananas.
CU-2 doesn't like bananas. Her father has insisted that she eat them when in their other home. This house rule serves two purposes - the main one is to support her in her dislikes - considering that she eats like a plow man, loosing banana as a fruit choice isn't that big a deal.

#4. You're not allowed to hurt yourself.
This comes after a lot of fighting between CU-1 and CU-2. The CUs know they're not supposed to hurt one another. This rule just pushes it a bit farther, and was used when they fell down and had a scrape. CU-1 and 2, when they were younger, seemed to understand the absurdity of the statement. It usually got a smile, if not a laugh and made the boo boo hurt less.

#5. Rich people eat chocolate in the bath tub.
Less of a rule. More of a statement. First used with CU-2 because, well, she's a messy eater (was when she was little, still is now). So, if she'll think it's something special and fancy to eat chocolate in the bathtub, great for us.

Have you any rules you'd like to share?

The day the music died

Well, that's that. Super-fantastic Grandma Tim is gone. The huz says she's probably within an hours reach of home, unless she and Grandpa Tim stopped for sustenance some where.

I miss her. Not just because we've got a new mountain of laundry and her folding efficiency either. She was fun. She is fun.

The huz said "Just think of it this way. She's got to go back for a conjugal visit with Dad."

Her parting words to me: "Just like Aaaa-nold. I'll be back."

Oh nothing much

Well, with everything coming back on line for 2008, why shouldn't the things that drove me absolutely around the bend in 2007 come back on line. Specifically, my children's arguing about home work, the list of errands I have to try to squeeze into my increasingly complicated schedule, and of greatest distraction, my friend who is not computer literate, coming over to use my computer for a couple of hours at HER convenience.

The huz set up another computer along the trap line of technology here so that when she's here, he and/or I could work/play uninterrupted. Well, that worked up until her vacation and absence from our home for about two weeks. We had a reprieve while she attended to business away from the area. It was great. For those two weeks I could log in, fart around on the computer, not have to justify my actions to any one (well except any of the children) and basically leave my minute space just the way I like it.

Now that she's back, the monopoly has begun, again. I should expect that shortly she'll be bringing her laundry too, only to complain and bump ours.

Yes. She's like a sister to me. Regrettably I don't feel that I can tell her to sod off, or take fewer liberties. I leave that up to the huz to do. ;-)

I mind

I have one! I have a mind! It's all starting, I mean REALLY STARTING to come back on line now, like services after a major storm. Wahoo.

As Monday's go, this has been a great day so far. Three kids are back in their school/care facilities. I've trouble shot a technical problem at home without a lot of hand holding from the huz. I've had a meeting with other ADULTS to organize an award dinner. I was able to go shopping without aid (of a toddler or other attendant under the age of 18 to help me). And I might have been able to throw a monkey wrench into some monkey business! Wahoo! I think I'm coming back to being my self again.

Hello self! Nice to have you back! ;-)

What? The year is five days old already?

I can't believe it's January 5th already. Really. I can't.

Last night we had the first pizza night of the year and rounded up some of the usual suspects. It was a blast. Only 15 of the 22 regulars made it. It was still a party. (Damned bought of the vomiting virus is going around! Not just for Britons either!)

As bottles, plates and glasses were put away, and the kitchen put back in order last night, I started commiserating with my visiting MIL about getting back to the regular of life.

Ah, regular life. After a year of self-inflicted leave (aka maternity leave), it's coming to an end. This is the longest I've ever been away (of my choice) from a job. I like work. I like my kids. Kids and work both have a tendency to drive me a bit mad. Having one to balance against the other is always a good thing for me. Makes me appreciate both so much more. Thus, two weeks from Monday I'm back! Woooohoooo!

So, my synapses are also slowly starting to come back on line like services after an ice storm. First it was remembering that CU-2 had Guide meetings. Next it was asking DH about his monthly appointment. (Thank goodness I had, because it was this morning!) It was also a good thing that I started manual synchronizing my paper work agenda (ooooh so old school) and the family calendar (also paper). I realized, with an hour and half grace, that CU-3's swimming lessons started!

Alas, soon my days will have more structure and routine so that I won't have to think so much. I'll be able to focus on flurries of activities like trying to update the blog, do some creative things, and then attend to the laundry at a more hectic pace. (I wonder if the Wii Olympic games have a speed laundry folding competition??)

So, in the short time I have left before rejoining the chaos, I've got time to give thanks for the option to be off, for having a great employer who allows and supports people with children, for patient, kind and caring people who listen to and tolerate my frustration and out bursts, as well my irregular humor. I appreciate you! (and it's not just the beer I had with dinner talking).

OMG! MUST CLOSE! The Green Goblin has struck again!! The toxic waste dump that has become CU-4's backside delivery system has delivered its load. DH is down for a nap, so I can't suggest that CU is playing his twisted version of Post Office!

20 minutes left

20 minutes left of the first day of 2008. Thank small gawds I haven't had to write any cheques today. I'm not used to the flip of the calendar - another month gone. Another YEAR gone.

This time last year I was in an uncomfortable position, waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for my 10 lb 12 oz baby child-unit #4 to make an entrance into this world. In 23 days we celebrate his birth. The hulk of a kid is no longer a baby, but a toddler, having taken first steps (though still prefers to crawl), has an arm reach of an orangutan (see any entry about cat water, cat bowls and sweeping things off the table onto the floor), and fits easily into size 18 clothes, though size two year old gives him a little bit of toe room.

In 19 days I return to the work world.

In five days, the children return to school.

In seven hours, DH rejoins the regular routine until the next big break about half-way into the year.

Here's to life, love, health, and happiness ... what ever the new year has to share with us, bring it on. I'm ready.

Four more hours

I have a blessed DH. He's a great man.

He took me up on my suggestion and called the contacts for Guides (though, in his usual non-communicative fashion didn't tell me he did and didn't tell me the results)!

Lucky for us/me, Guides starts on Monday. Winter camping is in two weeks. WEEEEEEE.

Two hours later

Two hours later and things have a bit better perspective.

How could I have raised a semi-organized child? Me? Of all people, me?!

After re-awakening to the sounds of the garbage truck racing by, I got up to attend to business (chasing the truck with our modest week's worth of Christmas detritus. I'm happy to say our recycling pile is still much larger then our garbage pile, though the three composters are full to their frozen brims and our community won't start the green box until 2009.)

While hanging up my coat and putting away my mitts in my locker, I got a brilliant thought - to rifle through CU-2's locker. Maybe, just maybe her Guiding materials would be there and there'd be a clue as to who her current Guide leaders are.

Hallelujah! There's the paperwork with ALL the contact names!

Now the thing is to wait long enough before playing the telephone game. Not everyone is working a 1/2 day today, and some actually be sleeping in in order to prepare for the festivities tonight!

Bad parent

Well, at 6:30 in the morning, that's what I feel like. I woke up, hearing the rumblings of CU-4, thinking that maybe he needed something (false alarm), and then, for some reason (possibly because CU-2 will be home in about eight hours after almost two weeks away) started to thinking about Girl Guides.

Now that seems to be a big leap, especially seeing that she's not had the opportunity to attend that many Guide meetings this year (the last one we thought she had didn't happen).

So, now I'm up up UP! in a panic, in a tizzy, trying to figure out if I've got her Guide group leader's contact information (it's 6:30 in the freaking a.m. and I went to bed after two a.m., and I don't have it), trying to figure out if she might have a winter camping session that I don't know about. All at six-freaking thirty a.m. on New Year's eve. Like I'm going to be able to accomplish a whole hell of a lot. (I have managed to get some email issues straightened out though, and drop an email note to the former Guide leader, who, I'm sure I will be calling later this morning to try and make contact because of my extreme panic about CU-2 missing an event). Oh, the joys of being a parent ... the joys of parental guilt.

What are the chances of me being able to go back to sleep for a few more zzzzzs before the rest of the crew awaken? (It IS New Years eve after all, AND CU-1 and 2 ARE coming home ...).

Sigh.

RIP

Grannie Anna, may you have finally found peace again.You will be missed and remembered.

End of year

Today is Thursday.

I think.

It's been such a long time since I've looked at a calendar. Really looked at it, do you know what I mean? Most of you probably do as you live a regular life with appointments, and interesting things to do, and places to go, and coffee to drink with people that talk in full sentences.

I'm now finishing my year off in exile (aka maternity leave). It's been an interesting experience. I've got another 24 ish days to go before my first day back at work. It's going to be odd looking at files and projects that are a year old. I don't think there will be that much catching up to do, as far as I can tell, 'cause things just don't move that fast in government.

It's been an interesting year. Looking at past blog entries has helped jog the old mind. Birth, construction, reunions, heart ache, and good visits. 2007 is ending on a mixed note with relations in hospitals (some to be released in better health, others to move on to the last phase of dying), and news of impending births.

Hope. I think 2008 is a year about hope.

Let it snow

We're supposed to be getting some more fresh snow this week. Since our last storm we've had a bout of freezing rain, but before that set in, the CUs and I made up a batch of a recipe I haven't tried since my early childhood.

Snow Ice Cream

2 C milk
2 eggs
1 1/2 C sugar
1/2 tsp salt
3 tsp vanilla

Whip ingredients with eater. Add fresh fallen snow (unpacked) and stir until no more can be added. Eat or freeze. May also add "Nestle's Quick" to make chocolate version.

Tastes pretty good.

Merry Christmas to all!

Christmas morning in our house has been eventful. This picture, taken by the talented CU-3, shows two of the many gifts I received. Around my neck are the "Prairie Pearls" from my dear FIL. Hand collected, hand crafted! I'll be wearing these to work regularly!!

Also, a dream come true, a Canon Digital Rebel XTi!

This doesn't make the Nikon obsolete. It will now become my pocket book camera that I carry around most of the time, unless I plan to go out to an event to take pictures.

It also means I can take the CUs out with me and maybe I can share my passion!

Here's CU-3 (who took the picture of me up above).

A Christmas inspired meme

Found on Things by Mike:

1. Wrapping or gift bags?
Wrapping. Though I'll double-up and use gift bags to hold a bunch of small things, plus baking.

2. Real or artificial tree?
I prefer real. DH has decided that with at least another 20 years of trees for the kids he's decided it would be more convenient to get a pop-up artificial tree. Uh huh. (I miss the smell, the water stains and the shedding of a real tree!)

Mind you, growing up I had a sibling who was sickly around real trees so we had an assortment of unusual trees (birch, the ugly mystery tree ...) and finally settled on an artificial. I'd heard, from friends, "it wasn't Christmas until Dad got out the drill". Gives new meaning to Christmas when you've got an artificial tree!

3. When do you put up the tree?

Depends on what weekend all the children are home, though only DH decorates the tree, so I'm not sure why we wait. But, now it's tradition.

4. When do you take the tree down?
Around January 6th.

5. Do you like egg nog?
I can take it or leave it. I'd like to find a lower calorie alternative though.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?
The one that's most memorable was a wagon I used to on my newspaper route.

7. Do you have a nativity scene?
Several.

8. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
Slippers. They didn't fit. I felt badly about that. And then, there was the really ugly watch.

9. Mail or email Christmas cards?
I like receiving either or. Only recently have I taken to mailing some out. Usually they become New Years cards ;-)

10. Favorite Christmas Movie?
A Charlie Brown Christmas Special.

11. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
The day after Christmas, for the next year. Sometimes even before the current Christmas, if the specials are really good, and the Christmas "away" boxes have been sent.

12. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
The venison jerky that comes but once a year from my in-laws.

13. Clear lights or colored on the tree?
I prefer white, but now we've got the artificial tree, it'll be permanently colored, as least until the tree dies.

14. Favorite Christmas song(s)?
Any that I can remember the words to. I like listening to them more then singing them.

15. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
Stay home.

16. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer?
Hell no. Well, maybe if I tried. I just don't want to. >:)

17. Angel on the tree top or a star?
1984 mental health angel from Brenda in New Brunswick. (There's a short, but special story that goes with that one! Some day I might recount it here.)

18. Open the presents Christmas Eve or Christmas Morning?
I prefer Christmas Eve, 'cause Pere Noel usually comes when we're at evening mass. DH prefers Christmas Day. Sometimes we compromise and do the socks the night before, if there's been a visit.

19. Most annoying thing about this time of year?
Commercialism.

20. Do you decorate your tree in any specific theme or color?
Only tradition is to make new paper chains for the tree. So, no.

21. What do you leave for Santa?
Carrots for the reindeer. A cookie, and a bit of milk, and maybe a note.

22. Least favorite holiday song?
I'm sure I have at least one. I just can't recall. (And don't ask me to be your partner when playing Humzinger either!)

23. Favorite ornament?
Anything the kids have made.

24. Family tradition?
Staying home.

25. Ever been to Midnight Mass or late-night Christmas Eve services?
Yes. I go to the evening masses usually because one or the other kids is in the presentation. I just can't stand the cologne and perfume.

Vacation for all

The older CUs are on their way to the "far west" (as CU-1 calls it). They'll be back in the region in a week. Back home in another two days after that, when we'll have a second Christmas. Perhaps we'll just make it into a big Welcome Home/New Years party!

Meanwhile, we have Grandma C here. What a blessing. We keep telling her we're going to try to make many excuses for her to stay. She's fun, and funny and a joy to be around (though WE might be driving her crazy! She doesn't complain.)

She's slipped into the crazy routines of the house. She's been used as a trampoline by CU-4. She's played beauty parlor with CU-3. The cats have crawled on and around her. She's found Dora (of Explorer fame) in her bed, plus a mouse ... (Sourisette, CU-1's plush pet), and occasionally a grand baby. Again, no complaints. Well, with the exception that Dora is a bed hog. ;-)

She's cooked her famous sausage rolls (mmm mmm good), and helped me catch up on the laundry, and Christmas baking. She's taught me how to make marshmellows! MARSHMELLOWS! HOMEMADE! (AND OMG they're GOOD!)

We've stayed up most nights until well after midnight (with the exception of last night. We were all in bed by 10, 'cause CU-4 has been very generous and shared his cold with us all).

Now DH is home on shut down until New Years. We'll sit around in our pjs until some one decides its time to get dressed, when we'll all follow suit.

Our days will slide one into the other. Low stress (biggest stress will be fighting over who gets to cook dinner that night). Christmas dinner is planned, so is New Years. Again. Low-to-no stressed. In it goes, and we go back to chatting, visiting, playing cards.

It's nice when we have family members that like one another.

My thoughts go out to all of you who are not with your families this Christmas - either by choice or by circumstances. May you find what you are looking for - particular peace in your life, and health in your mind and body.

One week later

Though the fall out continues with Christmasgate, I've had many, many, many, many chats with my MIL. They've helped A LOT.

The chats, coupled with 37 cm of snow over the weekend have helped me work a lot of things out of my system.

Man, do I miss winters like this. I'm glad to see one back. It brings back many memories, like the one where I wanted to trap the mail man because he ALWAYS cut across the lawn, and even at that young, precocious age, I had a strong sense of mine and thine.

As the holidays roll soundly along (mostly without me!), I have no real illusions of what this season is about. I'm not into the heavy commercialism, or the "rip fest", or the over eating, or the ever so special "day of salads" (26 by last count) festival of my former life.

No, no. This year, as in previous years, we'll start of the seasonal celebrations with the nightly "screaming children" choral singing the every so effervescent "Idoughwannagotobed" followed by "I hungry" chorus.

The older kids will start the "Awmombutitsvacation sing along.

Eyes will roll. Parents will cave, and it will be merriment for all.

Actually, as of Friday, it will be subdued merriment for all as the old CUs head for Vegas with DXH and his other half. They'll be back for New Years when the Hallelujah chorus will be played.

Christmasgate

Why do I have to be capable of knowing when something is up?

Why am I able to pick up on subtle visual clues when I don't need too?

Why am I particularly capable of stumbling across clues?

I'm not a detective. I'm usually a big picture kind of person, not detailed. I also wouldn't classify myself as the sharpest knife in the drawer either.

Lately, I'm able to guess what's going to happen in a story well before it ends. Same thing in the movies. And now in life. It's getting kind of boring and mostly annoying.

The episode with my DH is now spiraling out of control, as I reach out and talk to my friends and family. Once I present them with my suspicions, people just cave and imply that yes, they too have been hit up for a contribution.

DH has really blown it this time. I'm not the kind of person who needs a lot of things, and I'm certainly not the kind of person who needs them today.

Besides the hitting up my framily for this big ticket item, I'm catching DH in fundamental lies. If he was better covering, perhaps I wouldn't feel so bad. But, because he caves with the slightest touch, I am robbed of any joy that could come with the gift. Knowing about it two weeks in advance isn't a nice surprise. Knowing that framily were asked to contribute is embarrassing.

Framily, on behalf of me, I'm sorry that he did this. I really really am.

Ho ho ho! Who's coming to town?

GRANDMA of course!

Grandma from the West lands this afternoon to join the organized chaos of our home. We welcome her with many many open arms.

SUN

SUN is an acronym a friend came up for Shut Up Now. She draws a happy sun on her hand during work meetings on occasion, especially when she feels she's going to go too far with a comment. I've asked her if I could commandeer the image for myself on many occasion. Now, I've got to ask on behalf of my DH.

You see, I think I guessed my Christmas present. I think he flubbed up badly, said too much before investigating and just implied too much.

Now I'm angry. I like good surprises. This one would have been a doozy. Really, it would have, had he been able to carry it to term. Now, guessing all the quicky phone calls that have been coming in, I'm putting the whole equation together.

I've told him to call off the hounds, so to speak. Tell everyone who he has finagled into donating towards the cause to cool their jets.

It's horribly embarrassing, and the only way I know how to react is to try to stop it all.

Think I'm over reacting? It's a you had to be there conversation on the phone with him. He practically said "I'm getting you X, to make up for the stupid olives and the not-so-funny box of matches I got you."

My affections will not be bought.

Oh wait a minute

So I saw DXH in the hallway as he was picking up our two CUs for the week. I was there for one of my CUs as I was packing the other one around on my back all day.

I blurted out a bit of pertinent information about the change of the skating program he agreed to register the children in (before reneging on CU-1s attendance). The verbal slap down came so smoothly. I don't miss those days.

The not so funny thing about all this is that I'd got a call from the coordinator about thirty minutes before asking me if CU-1 didn't want to be part of the program, or what happened. I explained the situation as best I could. The coordinator was kind and took CU-1s measurements over the telephone.

I had a quick, pithy talk with DH about the whole thing. DXH isn't going to take CU-1 to the program because CU-1 said he didn't want to go. This is the same kid who doesn't want to brush his teeth, or wear deodorant and frequently forgets to wear underwear. How dare we try to assert our responsibility as a parent! This is also the same DXH who didn't want CU-1 to wear glasses for fear of being laughed at but didn't give it a second thought to cut and die a child's hair ...

CU-1 will grow up having his feet held to the fire in one house and hate it and have the ability to complain and get away without having to be responsible for his own actions in another.

Just makes me want to pull my hair out because it's such a trial some weeks.

D day is upon me

Today is D day for many parents in my region. I'm still not sure if all the school's policies are the same. At my kids' elementary, you are required to present yourself to get a copy of your children's report card. They do this because for some parents, it's the only time they'll see them.

For me, it's a very emotional day. Coming up against a system that I do not have found memories of; coming up against a person from whom I felt abused me emotionally and psychologically; feeling out numbers and then, having my children, whom I love, be critiqued is rough.

This morning, while talking to my day care provider, I broke down. I'd been pretty tough to this point, able to put on a brave face. I'm just loosing it now.

Talk to a guy, they'd say "Tut tut. Stiff upper lip and all that." I'm trying.

Logically I know I'm not responsible for what my children put down (or don't put down) on a test paper. I put in my time with each. I help them prepare their school work when they need direction. It still doesn't help me with feeling like I'm walking into a very nasty situation in a couple of hours.

Then again, I could be wrong.

***
UPDATE

So I panicked for a lot of nothing. CU-1 got a lovely report card, though the grades are on a heavy curve.

I still got it between the eyes for allowing CU-1 to pack too many books to school. WHAT? I told the teacher (with DXH and DXH's squeeze in tow) that it's like a police state now - we're patting him down every morning and that I don't know how he's getting the books out the door.

I also was told that allowing this kid to take out and read 40+ books a week was too much and that he wouldn't have space in his head to keep his studies present. Um well, as my DH pointed out: 1. What's he reading? (mostly comic books, though the X wants him to read more grown up books ... really what's with that? They guy certainly doesn't model it and only reads magazines with pictures! 2. How's he reading? for pleasure or for comprehension. Those are two different styles of reading.)

With CU-2 - there was a beautiful line from the teacher: "which one of you is the father". I relish that comment and appreciate her straightforwardness on it. DXH's complaint with CU-2s report card? Shouldn't she be getting all As? Well, let me see, she's doing splendidly in her English language course work (despite your disinterest in her learning English) and her other big problem is slowing down to read the question, which I told you. Big deal. She's a relatively happy, well adjusted, likeable girl. I say leave her alone on the marks (she knows the material, on tests, it came out sideways) and support her life outside the school.

Oh, that's right, pigs may have to sprout wings for you to consider that. Oh well.

Anyway, part one of what I perceived as December's major train wreck has come and gone. Next week we have another face-to-face meeting where they'll have another crack at me. Once that's done, we don't have to have face-to-face contact for another term and I won't have to revisit my ghosts until then. Yeha and Happy New Year.

Serendipity too

While trying to write this post update, I had to send the DH to break it up between "Perve" the cat and child-unit 1's snow pants. "Get a room" and "Sweeeeet luuuuuuv" has a whole new meaning in this house. Eww.

Anyway, the point of this late night post was to talk about a kind and gentle bit of serendipity that occurred this evening while out at the ballet (not The Winnipeg Ballet level - this was from the farm team/school for ballerinas). So that was what took me and the two older CUs out this evening.

During intermission, I do what many women do. Stand in line. Eventually I made it to the loo, hung up my hand bag on the back of the door, and parked. When I looked up, I saw the most wonderful piece of graffiti:

How's that for a beautiful message. As far as graffiti goes, I think that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Serendipity

I knew the word meant something good, or, at least in my experience, it has been. So, I pulled out my handy pocket dictionary and found this:

serendipity
n : pure luck in discovering things you were not looking for
(see photo)

Five "official" years together. Life has been relatively calm. Good. Fun.

Thank you.

Friday's love list

Meg has asked, and she will receive:

Song you love: Well, right now, it's all things Christmas.

Food you love: Queen Anne's chocolate covered cherries (very cheap, very sugary, talk about a head rush)

Thing you love to look at: everything through the lens of my camera. It helps me find the beauty in the everyday.

Sound you love: laughter, particularly children's laughter, especially when you can't see them (like they're in a back yard). There's something special about that.

Thing you love to laugh at: Any body's jokes and Just for Laughs specials.

Gadget you love: My KitchenAid mixer the Mothership bought me when I was single again.

Person you love: Sparky

Software you love: That which runs my digital camera

Word you love: Love. When I worked in a library back in New Brunswick, oh so many years ago, there was a patron by the name of Kevin Love. I thought "wouldn't it be great to be known as Mrs. Love?"

Thing you love on the internet: other people's blogs

Place you love to go on vacation: Wainwright, Alberta, Greece, Nova Scotia, maybe PEI too

Sensation you love: Touch

Animal you love: Voles.

Book you love: Betty Crocker Cookbook circa 1954

Emotion you love: Happiness

Occasion you love: my children coming home

Quality you love in people: compassion, honesty, politeness, trustworthiness

Thing you most love to shop for: paper

And finally…

What you love about today: I got to see Shelagh Rogers on Sounds Like Canada and child-unit 4 got a shout out on national radio!

Grey mornings, grey days

It's snowing outside. Soft fluffy flakes. I love days like this. From my place in our study/computer room, if I lean back, I can see out the kitchen window watching the lazy decent of these delicious flakes. I'm hoping for big storms this year. Ones that close schools, block satellite reception, force people home.

I have such a strong memory of my Mom and me going out one evening, during a white-out type snow storm, walking to our local book store (who was still open!) to pick up a book that'd come in for her. I remember the car that fish-tailed behind us, honky in surprise, at the two figures walking in the middle of the road because the sidewalks hadn't been cleared yet.

I can't say that stores are going to stay open late for me and my daughters to ever do that again (that was the benefit of living in a smaller community). I'd like the opportunity to see if one would though, even if it's just Seven-Eleven.

Still working on stupid

Jonathan posted the challenge word last Friday. Stupidity. Good gawd, I think I could write a novel on the subject, but then most people could. Mine would be full of self-deprecation, but then most people's would too.

So, I'm just going to touch on a point that Steph commented about in her entry for BlogFriday: "Love makes you stupid." Eh-men (sic) to that!

When I married my life-spark, I got stupid, and it's a good thing. My stupidity has to do with learning to let go and trust again. I learned that I didn't have to control every spec of dust that was going to fall on the shelf. I didn't have to control the child-units' every move. I didn't have to be completely responsible for household management. I could share the load.

I got stupid and I love it.

I stopped needing to know how to adjust the VCR timer every time the thing got reset. I stopped needing to know how to sort out all the laundry into proper piles so that everything is not an Orwellian shade of grey. I stopped and let the care and affection of a really nice guy come in and take the place of a whole lot of hurt.

My stupidity means I'm healing.

I like that.

Thanks Jonathan for helping me remember that stupidity can be a good thing.

Where has this weekend gone?

Just finished doing my rounds of other people's blogs, catching up with their lives. Wish I could catch up with mine. Even though I've been off for the last 10 months being the primary care giver to CU-4, I feel like I'm still in the rhythm of my regular work week. Weekends come and there's just a different pace.

Saturday's are the usual run about to get at least one child to his/her event (this week was child-lite week, so there was just the one CU to run), though we did do a collective viewing of all the CUs, merely by chance. CU-1 was at his art class (hell has frozen over! and DXH takes him to this event at least), where I dropped off some Ginger Sparkler cookies that I said I'd make. CU-2 was a the drug store with DXH, where I was doing a drug run for our sickly CU-4.

It's been a rough week for him. Flu shot seems to have some back-kick to it as he's got heavy flu-like symptoms. However, I'm not sure that he's got the flu. He's also got some big chompers coming down. Oh, and let's not forget about the bout of suspected Pink Eye we were treating him for. On top of that, there seemed to be a scheduled growth spurt that couldn't be put off. Poor guy.

Around him, DH has been working on putting house bits back together. I've been working at hauling out stuff from the basement. Having finally realized that we will probably have a winter this year, I've changed the direction of my garden puttering to decorating for the winter season. I'm known, in my neighborhood, as being the wack-job who puts up a lot of lights and different decorations for the change of seasons.
Thankfully, I'm not alone.

There's a fellow who keeps an immaculate yard just across from the English-speaking church we go to byweekly. He though does seasonal changes that are a bit over the top. But nothing is on the ground - it's all higher up, around his fence and windows.

There's a lady down our street who also inspires me. Her genre is with dolls and stuffed animals.

I was out last Saturday, before the snow fell, trying to get some lights up. This year we have a Fesitivus pole for DH, a lighted landing spot for Pere Noel, closer to the house this year, in addition to the polar bear, plastic candles and lanterns, plus the lights, of course.

Yesterday, I put up the oversized candy canes in our trees and replanted the candles that keep blowing down. I went out with the Mothership who's going through a late-life house-fashion crisis (wants to modernize her condo a bit, much to the chagrin of Dad who likes the furniture he's had for the last 25 years. Ugh.) So we rolled out late yesterday afternoon heading towards the likes of Sofa World (which felt more like Sofa Neighborhood), and Rona to look at light fixtures and door knobs. (Her doorknobs are dowdy too.)

Rona was my downfall. They were having an LED light sale. I couldn't help myself ... At least I didn't buy another electrical source stump ('cause I know we have another one some where in the house! I just have to find it.)

So, now it's Sunday afternoon. I'm writing this, listening to The Vinyl Café, thinking about how to string the next 300 feet of lights ...

* * *

This is what one side of the house looked like at dusk. It's still not done. I need one more extension cord I think, and I've moved some things around (illuminated candy canes because they were behaving badly) already. I'd like to move the set of lights over in the tree (left hand bent light section), but I need CU-1 to be home for that.

BlogFriday post: The XXX version

So I was out at the local tavern with all CUs in tow having a plate of wings with a good neighbor/friend and his posse. Having just had a birthday, and having received a glorious jar of olives for my birthday, I wanted to get another man's perspective on gift giving.

The conversation took a few twists and turns, and finally, I asked the all important question - what's your best birthday present ever? My supper companion, without missing a beat says "sex".

Um, Ok. After checking the kids' animated faces, I realized they were well engaged in their own distracting conversations.

My DH, who'd joined us by that time, became engaged in the conversation. So, here I was, stuck between two guys, talking about their favorite past-time, after hockey and basketball, of course.

I let them prattle on while I thought of my own efforts to support martial bliss. Four children can take the life-blood out of a couple. The efforts I/we (DH and I) spend trying to break up fights, find lost items (that should have been put away in the CUs locker or storage box in the first place!), hound for incomplete homework, plus trying to take care of the other detritus around running the house is work. By the time 11 o'clock rolls around, I'm tired. I'm usually sick too. The most I can do is sidle up next to my life-spark and try to get HIM warm (he's got notoriously cold feet) while trying to squeeze out a few minutes of restful sleep. Thus, extra fun just doesn't come into play.

But, now I prattle - onto the good stuff. I've been reading a book called Sex lives of wives : reigniting the passion by Holly H. Hollenbeck. Actually skimming because unless something has a lot of pictures these days, I don't have the brain cells to absorb much. (By the way, this book doesn't have pictures.)

Having made it through a couple of chapters, I finally get to a part that actually describes what overworked/over scheduled women can do to reignite the passion in their mates. The "Passion Seekers", a club of women that met to discuss passion and on whose experiences and discussions the book is based, came up with an idea: treat your mate's privates like you do you pet. Ok. I'm willing to try.
Now, we've got three cats and a hamster. The cats usually look after the care of the hamster, so you see where things go in this house.

If I treat DH's privates like I do our cats, this is what it would sound like:

"Quit nagging me!"

"No, you can't have more treats!"

"Really. You've had enough. Now go away."

There's also the strong possibility that DH would find himself on the other side of the bedroom door because his purring is too loud.

Maybe I should read into the next chapter ...

Vive le vent, vive le vent, vive le vent de neige

I think I got the lyrics right.

Today's our first snow fall. 2-4 cms to fall today, followed by ice pellets, followed by 2-4 more cms of snow tonight, and then another 7-9 tomorrow.

Groovy.

I've dug out the older child-units' boots, snow pants and coats from last year. Thank small gods they didn't grow that much - though, CU-2 s-q-u-e-e-z-e-d into last year's pants (skin-tight puffy snow pants ARE a sight to be seen), and CU-1's are floods (terrific to look at when there are white socks involved).

CU-3 got some new duds from VVs (Value Village), so everything is right with the world there. CU-4 ... well ... he's not happy being cold so, even though he's got a snow cover, his hands and feet stick out. Mittens and boots ARE NOT satisfactory, so I've put him into CU-3's back-up - the MEC "Toaster suit". And OMG is it. Usually, you put in a nice, dry kid into this thing. They come out hot and toasty, though a bit moist from the condensation build up from their effort of play.

Guess I'll try again with another combo for CU-4, and hope that DXH kicks in with his shopping spree this weekend to get the older children clothes that actually fit.

The children were quite excited by the change of weather. They see it as an opportunity to go out and play. Now that construction has been complete, and we have a terrific window to the North of our house, facing into the yard, I say "YES! Do go out and play after supper." We only needed the snow to fulfill this need. Here's hoping it's a big, dry snow winter.

Mama wants to go out and play too!

Viva Las Vegas

So, the latest ... the children are going to Sin City for Christmas. Just what every pre-teen needs eh?

***

It's been a rough couple of days with hormones flying and wills being tested. I swear I'm not sure how I'm going to muster the patiences to make it through the next 20 years of child rearing. I'm already loosing it much too frequently for my liking. This is not the example I wanted to show my children.

I've been thinking about other blogs that I scope out on a regular basis - Jonathan who's looking to get his gaggle of kids shortly, Wrecking Crew who's got three boys, Editor who's almost through the teenage years and embarking on the last big push for her WonderBoy before he flies. They're getting through their issues. Mine seem minor compared. But their mine.

And I'm just a bit sad.

Ok ok I'll try to find something nice to talk about

Well, that was the idea anyway, until my DH handed me a steaming cup of NeoCitrine because I had sympathy symptoms after reading Wrecking Crew's Sunday and Monday. Now, barely able to type ... whine whine whine, ah, that's more like it!

No really. Things have been quite quiet at my end of things for a couple of weeks. The creative juices have been being fed from the bi-weekly salons we've been holding under the guise of "Pizza night" - a party we hold every second Friday when the older child units return from the weekly adventures in the parallel universe.

I've been trying to teach myself The Gimp because I want to make up some marketing materials for my special side distraction. I've not been trying super hard though, as CU-4, also known as CU the last, has become mobile.

CU-4 has got to be the fastest of the four. He can make it from the kitchen, around the front room (double parlor), through our master bedroom, into the a joining bathroom to lift the toilet seat and check the temperature (yup, same as the powder room toilet!) before I can figure out that he's no longer improving his vocabulary by eating pages from the dictionary.

He's a busy guy, as seen here, he's taken on his DF's role of watching the street for any wayward strangers or lurkers. (I think I've got to get him a old cardigan too so that he can sit on the porch with his dear pa and yell at the kids whose baseball falls into our yard!)

Sigh. Like father, like sons.

Danger and annoyance

Drat! I thought too long and missed the deadline for the BlogFriday entry.

Last week's word was danger. This weeks word is annoyance. I think that I am annoyed with myself for overthinking the word danger.

The first thing that came to mind (like an ear worm) was a nagging reference to a cartoon character that I vaguely remember, something like Danger Rick. I think he was a raccoon. I could be wrong about it all though. I've been known to be wrong before! (But only once! ;-)

When I was able to sweep aside the ides of the raccoon named Rick, I was thinking about pedagogy of words in general and how flippantly people use them. No thought. There's a danger in that.

For example, while visiting some great friends yesterday, my friend was comforting her dog who was afraid of some loud noises emanating from the basement. While she soothed the pup with there-there's she also told him "don't cry". I kept thinking "why not?" The dog was scared. Why would you tell him to not express himself?

After coming out of a 10 year abusive relationship where things like showing any other emotion besides happiness was punished in some way, I've opted to speak out to those around me to give them permission to give themselves permission (follow that logic now). Two people whom I love dearly are still within the circle of influence of this negative model. When I see them I offer them a place to feel their emotions to the fullest - anger, sadness, fear. There's no danger here to cry. There's no scowling or displays of annoyance or fridgidness or withdrawal to be mad about injustices perceived or real. It's all real.

Happy November 1st, well, not any more

That's about as much enthusiasm as I can muster today.

Er, that was supposed to be yesterday's entry.

Yesterday I had many problems. Today I have the same problems, but it's a day later, and I'm hoping I've matured a bit.

Yesterday I had extreme small children/life-induced fatigue. Last night I got a pretty good deal - I sleep, DH gets up with any one who needs an escort to the bathroom/cuddle during the night. And I slept and dreamed. Weird dreams. But it was sleep.

My problems are in better perspective today. Maybe.

Today's problems are more carriable: discombobulated barrier near my kids school, insurance claims (standard in our house - not a week goes by without one going in), coming up with a good entry for BlogFriday, the GST rebate claim that STILL needs to be started (that I have two years before the deadline expires means my mojo isn't moving), laundry, self-pity, you know, yada yada - the norm. The difference is that maybe I won't have a hair-trigger explosion reaction to everything today. (Yesterday I was like a Pinto in a crash-up derby.)

As I tell my children when we get into a particularly bad mash up "tomorrow is another day". Seeing that tomorrow is now today, I'm going to try to embrace all that makes my day today and try to find something good in it. (Yah, it's a wee Pollyannaish, but I'm t-r-y-i-n-g.)

Party on, dudette

Well, it's been a hell of a party and there are no current signs of abating. Lack of sleep and CU-4's very wonky sleep pattern (It's 2 a.m. and I'm UP! Oh. It's now 3:15 a.m. and I'm UP! Oh, look the kitty waaaants to have his ears pulled, and it's 4:10 a.m. why not? I'm UP!)

As the rotten cycle goes - I get tired and think - "Oh food is a fast pick-me up to give me the energy I need to make it through just long enough to put CU-4 down for a nap!". So I eat. I put him down for his nap, then, in the fog-induced state, think - I haven't had breakfast/lunch/a real meal ... and the circle of life spins out of control, and I rock on.

Lately, in order to distract myself from my current state, I've been trying to bake - not necessarily all that successfully, I might add. The worst of it happened yesterday when I was painting on the last finger nail to four dozen Witches' Finger cookies.


Bea-utes aren't they? Well, this is batch two. Batch one looked just as good or better when IT happened. The cookie sheet with ALL THE FINGERS slid - CRASH! BOOM! onto the floor. Not even the most expert surgeon would have been able to put these digits back together.

These babies went to school today. I was super grossed out by them. We'll see how CU-3's crew takes them.

Happy Hallowe'en eve!

Opinions

Yesterday night, while at ball hockey with CU-1, I got tapped on the shoulder and was asked to participate in a focus group regarding health and safety of our kids at home, at school and withing the neighborhood and community.

I thought this was a rather obtuse topic to deal with within the confines of 40 minutes. I was also surprised that they had to recruit parents at a ball hockey night to get opinions. Why was there no advertising about this anywhere in the community prior to the two minute warning?

But, I attended and listened to three other moms talk about criteria they see as being important to providing the stability in a child's life.

Of the four of us who participated, I knew two of the others and extrapolate my observation to the fourth mom. We're all educated (which means we are more likely to be liberal and open to ideas, seeking assistance, and be willing to work towards and with solutions presented.) What I found interesting was that before this meeting I wouldn't have classified the the four of us as a representational cross-section of the people living in this community/catchment area. The women's self-declaration of the challenges they face helped me realize that we may have a greater level of education then my neighbors, but we are all struggling.

It was really helpful to hear about other parent's struggles raising their children. One mom had a son who was having difficulties in school and commented how schools were quick to want to label a kid, and that the community services and the pathways to assist the parent are not readily visible. Another parent talked about the difficulties of providing a stable home life when a parent may have to work multiple jobs or a swing shift, meanwhile juggling day or after school expenses, and personal needs and commitments.

And then there was the likes of me who waffles between panic and calm trying to figure out where the money's going to come from for the next two years until CU-4 is into regular day care (versus baby day care - there's a $900/month difference in the fees).

We self-identified as the working poor. Working to make ends not necessarily meet, but get a bit closer together.

* * *
Start of pity party

Because this is a pseudo-anonymous blog, I can further out myself by saying I make a good wage - well above the poverty line, as does DH. We're very careful with our money. We make our choices not based on support of the environment (which most people like to think is our motivation), but because our finances dictate greater frugality. We shop a the second hand shops. We use our local GT for at least half of our weekly groceries. We don't own a car because, well, where would the insurance and car payments come from?

To walk through our house, you'd never know we're running that close to the bone. It's not super fancy, but it has its luxuries (flat screen computer monitor (adult toy) and lots of kids toys in the yard). It's not because we spent a lot of money to get these things.

With some pride I can walk through my house and tell you what curb, or former home 85% of the things in my house came from. We have very very few new things -- which, I keep telling myself, is ok. The kids don't seem to mind. (Christmas is coming, though, and we can't get them anything that they've asked for.) I think I've fooled myself into saying that it's even fun to try to beat my system and stretch that dollar as if it was running a marathon. Alas, brain washing isn't permanent.

So, if you've read this far, you're probably asking "What's the point of this blog post?" Whining, dear readers. Full blown whining, an opportunity to wallow in self-pity about choices I've made and how I have self-inflicted problems. I just need to worry out loud. Panic, more like it. Sometimes it helps free up space so that I can come up with parts of a solution.

If you have nothing to say ...

I grew up with a the Mothership using a lot of adages to get me through the day - of the several that comes to mind is goes something like "If you don't have anything nice to say about some one, don't say anything at all." Now I've used that adage a couple of times -- like many years ago when a work colleague brought in her baby that looked like a very small chimpanzee. Today, well, I have something not nice to say, and I'm trying really hard to be polite about it.

Today I had to take CU-2 to the hospital to have her cast and break looked at. (Did I mention this is the second time she's broken her arm? This time, it's her other arm and she broke it falling out of a tree. Oh my talented child!)

Anyway, I was under the impression that it was to take her cast off. She was the same. This is the information implied, though not necessarily directly relayed by her father's partner who apparently took CU-2 to the hospital to have the break set. This is the same guy who is not a legal guardian of this child and who, by law (and our arbitrated agreement), should not be bringing her anywhere medical, unless either her father or her mother (ME!) are unreachable. (In the event that her father can't take her, I'm supposed to go.)

So here I am. Trying to find nice things to say about the situation. I'm of two minds. One is I appreciate that one of the two (hmmm, trying very hard to choose nice words here) actually cares enough about children that aren't his biologically. And I do appreciate at DXH's partner is taking steps to communicate with me in a more open and direct manner. It helps a bit.

That doesn't stop me guts from churning that they're passing my kids the kids off as theirs. It's bullshit. Sheer bullshit.

Though, in counting my blessings it's not as bad as my friend (see previous posting).

I may have that to look forward to in a couple of years when we have to help CU-1 choose the next school (high school).

Disbelief, that's a word for it

Ok, this one is easy to blog about, but may not be of interest to that many people.

I have a friend (yes really, it's not me) to whom I was introduce based on a commonality - divorce and children. She had and I have. That's were much of the commonality begins and ends on this particular topic.

She's an interesting woman to know. Smart, attractive, sporty and capable. And let me not forget, crippled by the Canadian (in)justice system.

In the divorce decree that was made at the time many years ago, she was not healthy and was unable to defend herself against the much better (financially) positioned ex-spouse. He went at her tooth and nail and walked away with the children. Over the years, he has continued to verbally, emotionally and financially rein rough over his ex-wife (and their children but not using the money she sends him to raise their children). One could say the family has fallen apart after the divorce -- in so many ways.

She has paid, big time. She has supporting three children who have learned (by simply going through the process of teenagers in a ME-ME-ME world and by his own example) to continue to sustain the abuse when they are with their mother.

She has been kept in an economic vice for so many years that she is close to the poverty line.

While this story isn't uncommon - the part that I find so discouraging and that makes me so fearful for having to deal with my ex-husband is the burnt-earth financial policy that some judges allow to stand.

In the case of my friend, she was back in court recently to request lower payments as her eldest child was not in school, had joined the military, and was married. The judge refused to hear her case, lambasted her for wasting the court's time and gave her an additional financial penalty to her already heavy burden.

I read this account with great disbelief.

Where is the justice in the law. I am aware that law IS black and white. It makes me question the greater good. What lesson can be learned by beating some one continuously? Why does this woman receive NO compassion or relief any time she is before the courts?

From the side of the ex-husband - he continues to hold the upper hand. He continues the financial warfare and is encouraged to do so every time the judge rules.

I hope the karma bus comes for you Sir.

Super cute

A super cute video that deserves attention.

Struggles

I've been struggling with this weeks word assignment: Achievement.

It's easy for me to think of other's achievements, and I could certainly write about the pride I have for my siblings who are successful - my sister the triathalete and amazing parent, my brother who gets to go to Hawaii for two weeks to look at dams, and my other brother - the former scientist with several patents to his name. I can wander in and around and through my memories of their various life achievements. I can even do this exercise for my children - CU-2 who's done an amazing job in Girl Guides despite only getting to go to less then half the meetings. CU-3 who shows talent in so many areas that I'm looking forward to her growth with both fear and excitement.

So, while I can talk about achievements of others I find it greatly difficult to look at my own. It's been three nights that I've been trying to draw up a list as a sort of self-identifying exercise. The only things on my list so far are that I've walked Miles-for-Millions, a fund raising activity twice and both times I walked the full 26 miles (in one day). I also walked 26 miles to follow up a Chinese food craving when I worked in Yellowstone National Park.

My sister's boy did this type of exercise (identify things you've done in your life that show your achievements) as part of a high school course. She said it was an enriching process for him to see everything that he'd attained to date (racing medals, swimming awards, and report cards). She told him he could use this to build his resume, and, better yet, when he's going through a crappy time in his life, he'll be able to sit down with this record before him to show himself that he can be successful and feel pride in his achievements.

96 bottles, er, days left

Jealousy is one of the seven deadly sins, and rightly so. It tends to eat away at the very fabric of one's core if not held in check.

Regrettably, I figure this attribute is my worst character flaw.

What brings on this bout of angst you may wonder? I checked in with work this morning to read the weekly departmental wrap sheet.

Sigh.

With being out for a year on maternity leave, it's hard for me not to be part of the work environment. I feel fulfilled there and I get fulfillment from the work I do. I feel like I'm doing something more then laundry, which is not what I wanted to do when I grew up.

In today's release, there's a good, dedicated space to a colleague who picked up the 2nd, and more visible half of a project I struggled with. On one hand, I'm thrilled to be away from the project. It was gross, and my bain. On the other hand, I can be big enough to recognize that she's well on working a difficult project. On the other hand, without me mucking about in the trenches, I don't think she would have had the chance, nor would it have been this amiable.

Thus the bout of jealousy. It's eating at me. I want to be back at work. It was MY project damit! It was my turn to shine. It was my turn to get a chance at the golden ring! (Chances for me seem to come around less often then for my colleague. I just don't have the perky personality to grease the way up the ladder.)

Ooooh. Is that being too bitchy?

Like a cow, I'd like to be outstanding in my field.

My bald baby

It took three children to have the dreaded hair cut incident.

She'd walked away with a kid's scissors.

We'd thought she was working on crafts.

CU-4 was providing cover for her, distracting us by pulling down papers and getting into the tangle of computer wires.

Then it got quite.

"Where's CU-3?"

"CU-3??!"

"I'm in here Da-a-a-hd."

[It's dark in there.]

"Whatchadoing?"

"Cutting my hair."

The air caught a collective OH SHIT!

So she's got a big bald spot on the side of her head. That's an achievement the other three haven't done yet.

Addictions

Hi, my name is MongoAdventurer and I'm addicted to my kid's Webkinz games.

There. I did it. It's a first step. An achievement of sorts.

Friday's love list

Meg Fowler's thrown me a twist today - I'd have to come up with a Megish love list. Arrrgh. I find coming up with my own a tricky feat. I'd started my own, when I realized that I thought I misread the post (I had ...). Thus, for you two or three readers, here's *my* Friday love list:

Love list?

1. A back that doesn't ache.
2. Wet, cold, rainy days. I so much more appreciate the bed, a warm cup-a, books, bathes, TV, CBC radio, especially when they play jazz.
3. An old fashioned snow storm.
4. Shoes that fit well.
5. Scallops.
6. That my body still does what I need it to do, despite the abuse I've put it through.
7. Creative thinking.
8. Humor.
9. Holding hands.
10. Walking through fallen leaves.
11. The smell of a cold morning.
12. Hats.
13. Hats on babies.

What do you love?

Sadly but true

From the good fellows at Demotivators.

P.S. A good combination of the Conair back-thumper, some over-the-counter meds, and an amazing nap with CU-4 means the back is BACK! Wahoo! Laundry here I come!

Slim pickings today

Today could be a country-western song, though instead of heart-=ache, I've got back ache, and big time. Thanks to CU-4, I kind of pulled muscles in some pretty bad places.

I've also been spending my time trying to distract myself from the pain by reading other people's blogs. Meg Fowler's trash-talk was particularly funny and helpful to relieve the endorphins today.

I'll do just about anything to speed the recovery.

Free hugs

Ok, I got this off a link to a link of a blog that I was reading. It's worth reposting I think.

Happy Turkey Day

Gawd I'm knackered and stuffed! Got gross Pepto stuffed. Just nice and all roundy feeling from a pleasant dinner, great wine and fun talk with good friends.

Thank you all and happy turkey day 2007.

"Diff'rent is nice but it sure isn't pretty"

From A Chorus Line, "At the ballet"

Mother always said I'd be very attractive
When I grew up, when I grew up.
"Diff'rent," she said, "With a special something
And a very, very personal flair."
And though I was eight or nine,
Though I was eight or nine,
Though I was eight or nine,
I hated her.
Now,

"Diff'rent" is nice, but it sure isn't pretty.
"Pretty" is what it's about.
I never met anyone who was "diff'rent"
Who couldn't figure that out.
So beautiful I'd never lived to see.
But it was clear,
If not to her,
Well, then... to me...
That ...

Everyone is beautiful at the ballet.
Every prince has got to have his swan.
Yes,
Everyone is beautiful at the ballet.

Hey!...

I was pretty...

At the ballet

***
When the word different came up as the word of the week, this is what I immediately thought of. It seems, that to some degree, I live my life through snipits of musicals. When I'm happy, I sing in full voice (in my head) OKLAHOMA! or Singing in the Rain. And when I'm sad, there's a sound track to that.

I'm different. Always was. Auburn haired. Speckled like a ripe banana. I stood out from my peers. Didn't help that my mother dressed me a little more creatively then other students at my clique-y elementary school. It was too late by the time I reached junior high.

Over the years I've wanted to be part of the in crowd, or any crowd. (Much like the line from Ferris Bueller's Day off - he was popular with the dweebs and the potheads, motor heads and jocks.) Oh how I tried. Looking back, I figure I must have had some guardian angels pulling the feathers out of their wings trying to keep me on track!

A few major wrong turns, a few overcorrections later, and here I am. Happier with myself. Finding myself amongst the creatives who are different and who see it as a good thing.

I've got children who are different; each with his or her strength. I look at them and wonder if they're going to be outsiders looking in, or insiders looking out. Will they reach out or within to show compassion when there is an opportunity. How different or how conforming will they be to smooth out their journey.

Two of the four CU-s already live a different life. How is this going to mold them for the future?

They too face an amazing journey. I looking forward to watching them as they take steps, and hope they find peace with their differences.

The more things change ...

This week's word from Blog Friday is journey. Funny that.

When I first thought about it, I thought about the band Journey ("I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you" fame - for me, anyway.) Then I thought about what kind of photo response entry I could put in over at I Spy, though I don't know how many more responses I can link from that account, as I read the fine print that said it was to induce writing. Then I started to look in one of the Canadian house magazines to which I subscribe - the title of the editorial was about journies. And DH just returned from his trip, and one of the parental units left for his.

This is becoming more of a spooky coincidence thing ...

What's the point?

Little Debbies and Diet 7-up. Do the calories of one knock the other out?

Away

I was a way for four days. Just f-o-u-r little days, and what happens? All h-e-double-hockey sticks breaks loose.

- One of the three furry roommates pooped, albeit discretely, in the corner.

- My bank account got decimated (all legitimate expenses coming out).

- The paper recycling didn't get picked up. (Mind you, it might have been plastic and tin this week.)

- I got almost no mail.

- The mail I got was to tell me that my flipping order didn't go through because I had the nerve to give them a wrong credit card number!

- No one got me groceries so I came home to an empty (and dirty) refrigerator.

- I find out that sheet has been breaking out at work and I don't return for another 110 days.

- No one scooped the cat box (see first entry).

- CU-3 has overdue books.

- Came home to a message on the answering machine that CU-2 broke her arm again. (This time it's her other arm, the one she writes with.)

- Picked up emails from DXH part 2 (who's getting really really chummy) to say that CH-1 vomited in his car during the drive home on transfer day and was wondering what he'd had to eat. (It could be your breath that CU-2 complains about regularly.)

So, I'm having an OMG moment right now because DH is still away - not that I can't cope - I just can't cope with ALL OF THIS AT THE SAME TIME.

** Deep breath **

Dancing with the stars is almost on, and there was a sale of Little Debbies at our local neighborhood department store, so, I gotta' go.

It's Friday here. Is it Friday there?

Our number is regularly mistaken for a pool product provider, pizza parlor, fooze ball equipment issuer, and computer store. On occasion, DH and I have been known to get creative and have some fun with our responses to the miss-dialer's inquiries.

For example, yesterday I got a call from some one who wanted to order two pizzas. My response?

"I'd like to help you, but I only make pizzas on Fridays."

Puzzled "Oh" and a l-o-n-g pause.

"Ah, do I have the wrong number?"

"Yes. Yes you do."



DH fielded a called about pool skimmers:

"Do you have that wand-thing that cleans pools?"

"No. No I don't. I don't even have a pool."


These are not necessarily the most creative responses - they do give us a laugh, in one of those you-had-to-be-there moments.

Yaky hair

DH said "Oh you don't need that. You've already got yaky hair."

Gee.

Thanks.

And yet another reason to post today

Beginnings and endings. Starts and stops. Don't get me started. Start your engines. Start button. Start spreading the news ...

Exploration of a single word can cause profound results. In this case, it's another social networking, blogging exercise in support of writers - to get them going on something - this something is a word. The word for this week is START.

* * * * *

A few months back, when I was working on a project with a PM, I was told "Words don't matter". Every once in a while I trot out this gem to tease him with his own words. The irony is that words do matter.

The child hood rhyme:

Sticks and stones will break my bones
But names will never hurt me.

is so completely and utterly WRONG.

Verbal abuse is insidious and vicious. While leaving no visible marks, it can cut a person's psyche. I witnessed the children's version while watching the first few minutes of CU-2's dance class role out. A kid was being teased about his name, which ordinarily enough, like Bob, has a longer version as he put it. He liked the short version and didn't want to be known by the more formal. The kids picked on him by refusing to accept his preference, and even tried to involve the teacher in on their play. And so it starts.

Wii

Last week I dashed off a very short (under the 250 word limit) story for NetChick's 10th anniversary blogging. The low turn-out of entries meant that I actually made the final 20 cut.

She's put out a call to vote for the most popular. I'm number 12. (It's bad, and I don't think I'd win. Hell, I wouldn't even vote for me, liking other's stories much much more.) It was done on a lark though. So there.

What goes up just goes higher

Having four CUs means home work. CU-1 and CU-2 have theirs. CU-3 doesn't have any, but has made it her duty to disrupt CU-1 and 2 from doing theirs. CU-4 is into every one's business. That's his home work. Makes for an interesting couple of hours as I try to peel kids off of one another and lift and separate so that something gets done. Sigh. (All this ordinary stuff going on while the 'fridge was warming up the leftovers, and the stove lost power.)

Alas, that amusement was precluded by an outside spectacle.

Tonight was especially taxing because we had extracurricular entertainment. A neighbor from the other block came around to visit. While standing at the curb, we watched a train of cars line up the street for a bidding party. (Seven. SEVEN bidders lined up to buy a small three-bedroom home.) We talked with one of the bidders who lost out on other homes in the area already. They'd bidded 10 k more then the asking price. They lost out. They were 32 k SHORT of the final bid. (The house went for 42.5 k more then the asking price, and there were problems with it!) This is just insane. Especially in our neighborhood. So far houses go up, have one open house and are sold within 24 hours. Scary. And the fun will begin yet again next week. The flipper down the street will be putting his up for sale, and it will probably go fast too. We'll see if the they top the former record set this summer for our block 70k above their asking price in a bidding war (10 people involved).

The end

So, it came and went.

A one hour visit, just like one big happy family. (Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth.)

Almost on the dot, it started.

They sneaked by the century standing on guard by parking around the corner. Didn't want to be too conspicuous did they?

The doorbell bonged while I was sneaking the coffee pot to the front room so that CU-1 could more easily serve his guests.

I said a quick hello to the floor as they walked in, and quickly moved to the other door so that I could let CU do what he needed to do.

Apparently DH walked right into the fray and got invited to coffee. Apparently he didn't hear me announce that the posse had arrived.

I went back to my work in the yard, an equally laborious task trying to turn over sun-hardened mud. (I'm turning that part of the yard back to grass ... until I can think of something else to do with it.)

After about 15 minutes of work, ease dropping on them using the room monitor feature that our phone has (the phone had been set up to monitor CU-4 while he slept), I went in to show my face.

It was awkward. Here I am in my own house, and I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable. CU-2 warmed up to the occasion, which reduced my discomfort. CU-3 was all over my DXH, which was just weird, considering how starchy he appeared. DXH's partner, (I'll have to come up with a name for him as he might start becoming a regular here ... hmmmm DXH part 2?), with dogglet force field fully engaged (dog on lap pose) was having a chat with CU-1 and DH. Weird. All very weird.

DXH part 2 was carrying most of the conversations. Sometimes it's good to be a seriously gay man, it seems to come with an amazing ability that covers awkward social situations. This one really was one of those times when DXH part 2's talents just shone through.

So on this went for a good 30 minutes. I prompted CU-1 to give a house tour to the DXHs, which, in satisfying their curiosity, perhaps they'd get the feeling they could then move on to something else.

CU-2 had warmed up enough to show off her room. CU-1 did his as well. DXH part 2 remarked how much the color choices the CUs made were so much like that in their own home. Well duh. The children want consistency ... He was also surprised that I let the children pick out their own room color. Well, #1. it's only paint. #2. It's their room. #3. I don't have to look at it. So there. But, I didn't say anything sarcastic. Just said that CU-3 will soon be making her own choice too. DXH part 2 feigned surprise.

Almost at the one hour mark, they finally left. DXH part 2's parting shot was to suggest that maybe we should get together on a monthly basis (all eight of us) for brunch. Ah yah right. This from the couple who just mere weeks ago continued to verbally and emotionally abuse me and the children. Ah yah, sure.

No no boys. I said yes to CU-1's request because:

#1. This IS his home too, and he is allowed to invite his friends home and have them feel welcome.

#2. I've spent the last f-o-u-r y-e-a-r-s waving the forking laurel wreath around. What does that say to you? That suddenly, because you suggested CU-1 has extended an invitation, that you're a hero and being a big person for accepting an invitation that's been extended to you over and over and over again.

#3. I'm hoping that you all come to your senses and not just ignore the hard won arbitration "agreement", that you recognize your hard-ass tactics with the children just were not getting you anywhere and that we're coming up to the very very important teen years when lots of emotions and coming-of-age shit gets mixed up and that their lives better have settled, safe havens to land or you are playing a crap shoot with them deciding to make permanent decisions about where they live and how often they see you.

#4. C-O-N-S-I-S-T-E-N-C-Y. Children thrive with consistency in their lives, though it doesn't preclude spontaneity. When you have a child who has difficulties, and has diagnosis's that suggest consistency in all aspects of that child's life might reduce the bumps, well ******, what do you think that might mean? (Oh wait a minute, that's right, perhaps this question is to hard to ask the guy who rewrote the definition of monogamy.)

So, for the benefit of OUR kids. I'll kiss your ass, or, really, make that DXH part 2's hairy back side, as he's the one wearing the skirts in your household, in order to make this work for OUR kids. As of right now, I just don't think I'm open to brunch. I think my dance card is full. I have to wash my hair. I have to vacuum the cat. My mustache needs trimming. There's the litter pan to clean. I have to re-grout the tub. And, of course, there's that much needed root canal.

But, thanks for coming.

D-Day

So it's D-day. As I write this, we are within throwing distance of the bewitching hour to when DXH and his posse arrive. I've given up trying to tidy up the front room for the third time this morning. It's got a nice, rumbled, lived in look, well, because, we live here.

CU-2 and I have been batting around options for her not to be readily available to this event - crafts, a must-run errand, a trip to the park. She thinks CU-1 is out to lunch and that the whole thing is just too weird.

We took Grandma C's advice to close off doors so that CU-1 could invite his father to see his room, while giving everyone else privacy.

I feel foolishly buoyant about the event. Lack of sleep? Nerves? (Nah - I usually feel like throwing up.) Maybe something good will come of this. Here's hoping.