Ladadada di, ladadada da

So we've got a functional powder room, laundry room and kitchen. The CUs have functional bedrooms (and are actually quite close to being settled). We have half a bathroom (toilet and tub, but no sink upstairs). DH and I get to do some in-door camping. Laying down the hauling-up the matress and box spring on a nightly basis. The front room is still in squalor.

We also have a huge hole in the soon-to-be master bedroom and en suite. We're unlikely to be hole-less in the next couple of weeks while there's a re-order of our theraputic tub. (I sure hope it listens well and provides good advice!)

The outside is starting to shape up a bit. The fence posts for 6 of the 9 fence holes are in until we hit pay dirt, which, if the schedule holds, should be tomorrow morning, sometime between 7 and 10! 10 cubic square yards of beautiful black gold. Wahoo. CU-4 and I will play in the yard a bit while I put up fence rails and pester DH to do another run out to the Home Depot for the other bits and bobs.

And more good news. Our shed is finally in, which means that that might take some of the strain off our DN's (Dear Neighbor's) garage. (Seeing as they're moving in two months, we kind of have to get the lead out too.)

This might be a fortunate weekend for us after all!

Enquiring minds want to know

Oh there is so much I want to know.

The first is why DXH would possibly think I wpould accept his partner's opinion on parenting our children.

The current situation involves CU-2 who wants to get her ears pierced. Ordinarily, I would expect that to be a mother-daughter activity, not a heavily tatooed/pierced guy step-parent-step daughter kind of thing to do. I don't care for the type of jewelry partner of DXH has picked out. I know I don't want him to guide my daughter in those types of decisions.

So, on go the emails, back and forth, back and forth with partner trying to get me to say yes. Me saying, "I kind of need to hear of the intentions of her father", something I've said all along. My concern is that some one in the other home is going to think differently, and "just do it". DH says that there is little recorse that wouldn't harm the child. Yup. Another fun thing for DXH to run roughshod over, and me just to sit by and let it happen and except the suckage.

The only time, these days, that I get to hear from DXH is when he's bullying me into something he wants. Shortly, he's to take a continental visit with CU-1 and 2. He's given me the destination information, but not the method. Seeing as it's unlikely they're going to swim or drive, there is a slight obligation that he provide this information to me before I release travel documents. He's already expressed disappointment that I've not provided the documenation he's requested on his terms. I've replied in kind, that there seemed to be an oversight of information, and he may wish to do that prior to my hand over. Nothing from him equals nothing from me. Looks like we might be headed towards a Mexican stand-off.

So, this leads me to the next issue that's still light-years away. CU-1 graduates from his current school in two years. Where will he go to next. What fires are yet to be flamed on this one?

Uncle

Uncle. Aunt. And all the cousins. I'm throwing in the towel. I'm running up the white flag. God grant me peace.

I'm giving up trying to figure out what the construction schedule, CU-4's poop cycle, my work project objectives, and my teeth are all doing. Seems that there is a conspiracy here to keep me guessing. Well, it's working really well.

On the construction side of things, we actually had partial movement here today with the flooring for the upstairs bathroom going down, the taps to the shower in, the toilet installed. BUT, and of course there's a but, the sink from the downstairs bathroom wasn't installed. Huh.

CU-4. He was on a three day cycle. Today, while waiting for the #14, I thought this lady was letting off a lot of gas. Two-cheek-sneaks, my sister calls them. Until .... I picked up CU-4. The mother-load. Man can that baby off-gas.

Ok. Bad bad bad bad choice for me to keep the work project. Every time I try to heave it off, it comes back, like 1970s fashion.

And then there's my teeth. Just when I thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel regarding my teeth (I've had five visits to the dentist this year alone), turns out I have to get yet another crown, as I've broken another tooth.

Three letter acronym of the day that describes all this: WTF.

Time stands still

Three not-so-tiny voices are blaring in the background, covered by the not-so-soft snores of the fourth. It's bed time for my Bonzos and CU-3 is driving us all around the bend. She's being so three.

DH is hammering away at the floor. He's got one more hour until the noise cut-off. It'll be time to switch gears to help me clear out the old kitchen and bathroom for tomorrow's run at construction.

The old dishwasher has gone off to it's new home, there are more and more stacks of stuff in the front room. I keep wondering how long it will be until the dream becomes less and less frettful.

Tomorrow is Monday, and the regular race begins for every one else. I've been on the tredmill for such a long time already.

Two my two mothers - your cards are coming. They've just got into the mail a bit later then usual.

Chicka chicka quack quack

I've got an ear worm thanks to a status of a friend on Yahoo.

I can't place "chicka chicka quack quack". I know it's on TV some where. After several weeks of renovation nights (which translates to going to bed around midnight e-v-e-r-y n-i-g-h-t, and bytheway, the counters have been delivered), it just sounds like a nice word.

The children ask me with the peanut butter is -- "Chicka chick quack quack" I respond.

Maybe my extraordinary behavior is ordinary now, as they just shrug their shoulders and walk away.

Withdrawl

I'm going through withdrawl again. Perpetual Chocoholic and my schedules this week have clashed and we've not been able to meet up for coffee all week. Wahh.

Things have been moving at a hectic pace. DH and I have been running the construction marathon every night until midnight in order to be one step ahead of the crew that's scheduled to come in the next morning. We're so close to being done on the kitchen and upstairs bedroom side of the project, that we don't want to loose momentum.

On top of that, trying to even carry my project on a part time basis, with a very alert CU-4 is just not working. I'm hoping that I can start to ball rolling this morning to get the project transfered to the understudy. Regretably, the Project Manager is off site until next week. I'll be going into work to talk to the understudy to give the old "heads-up".

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I've got a shopping list to attend to - it's a subdued pizza night Friday with our good neighbors putting their house up for sale (and them vacating for the weekend to near-by relatives). Add to that, the usual detritus of running a household (laundry, bills, library books to go back ....). I think I deserve the grey hairs that are coming in much more rampently.

Coming together

I've been slow to post. If you got a good look at my hands, you'd see them speckled with various colours of paint.

I've been painting all the new walls to beat the band. Between that, and a short bout of the flu, muscle aches, a bit of arthritus, and a couple of hours working on a work project, things have just got in the way of posting the silly bits of life.

Doesn't help that I've been crabby. Stressed. Things are coming together on the house reno. The bits and bobs that are still outstanding are starting to stress me as I'm the one who "dresses" the house, and I want to get at it. I've been stopped by different bits (ungrouted tile, kitchen cabinets that have had to be reordered, errands that have to be run) to really move this project forward. Meanwhile, the continued collection of stuff in anticipation for the house, and the continual moving of other bits and pieces into the remaining part of the house that is not currently under construction is adding to the pile.

Notice to the universe: I *am* greatful for your blessings. Keep 'em coming. I'll get through this.

Smells like teen spirit

DH is on the road for about half of this week. That's unusal as for the last five years or so, we've spent perhaps less then a week, in total, apart. As all you who read this blog with any kind of regularity will note, I've been feeling a bit stressed out. His being away doesn't change the situation that much (or so I'd like to think. I *used* to be able to be a fully functional grown, single Mom for a number of years.)

I feel like when I got married, I got stupider. Stupider in that I've started to actually trust again, and rely on another individual to take on certain tasks and support the running of the household.

I'm starting to really realize how far I've relaxed with DH in my life. CU-4 took almost no naps today (I'm feeling it as I needed the nap) and I could have used the extra pair of hands so that I could sneak in a 15 minute power nap tonight. I could have also used the extra brain to help process laundry correctly. As is, my senses (five plus one) were working overtime saying "Don't do it. Don't do it. "

Let me bck up a bit. CU-3 was having a difficult diaper free day. She had had several accidents at school, so there was laundry to do. I managed to sneak to the cave to run laundry before she noticed my momentary disappearance. (Who says parenting isn't magical).

A friend stopped by, so I borrowed her superpowers of watching children to run downstairs to switch the laundry around. My sense of smell said there was something wrong. The laundry didn't have the proper fresh laundry smell. I thought the laundry just needed a tumble in the dryer and all would be better. So I put it to the dryer and squeezed through another load of laundry into the washer.

A couple of hours later, when the house was quieter and lunches were prepared, I crept downstairs to get the fresh laundry out of the dryer. The improper smell was still there. So I shrugged and thought I'd better rerun that load. I did the wet versus dry laundry square dance, with laundry trading places. As I did so, there was a super clean turd that fell out of the laundry.

Squick.

Oh the stories of motherhood. Give me a couple of years and I'll actually own up to the story.

Right

I'd been partying way to long -- having a pity party that is.

Grandma C was right about her comments. Yesterday _was_ a special day with so many opportunities. Her comment kind of shook me up to start seeing the adventure in the day again.

Today is a new day. Workers are back on site. I've posted a first rough draft of my work project to the Project Manager for comments. It's not snowing. CU-4 is still just as snuffly as me and has begun to coo. He's charming.

Cuddle time.

Blowing chunks

As of late, all my blog posts have been a rant on stresses of one kind or another. Of that, I am not proud. However, as I have so few readers, my ranting is ok. It's almost like peeping into my diary, without having to search between the matresses.

Today was another stressed day.

It started off with waking up to this:

Followed by wet, wet and more wet. CU-3 was well off in her rain boots, and CU-4 was firmly strapped to my chest; a position he's been privledged to hold now for almost 12 months.

We got about a block from home when I had to save Santa from the mongo pile, and truck him back home. It just wouldn't do to have to carry three to school. And I just don't know how I would have explained his presence to Perpetual Chocoholic.

So truck back we did, and then really headed off into the 60 m/h winds. Wet snow and rain making CU-4 breath deep enough for both of us.

Made our slow assent to the school and caught up with CU-2 who was released from the bowels of XDH's van. CU-1 didn't bother to come out as he was engrossed in the portable television. (I do so love XDH's parenting style. And he lectures me. Sigh.)

Had a wee chat with CU-2 and then dropped off CU-3. She was very happy to show off her chosen book on bebits. Happy happy thing.

Treked over to the coffee shop for my now usual Monday morning ritual and waited. I figured I'd probably not be seeing PC this morning. When it gets to greasy out, she shows she's the logical one and calls to cancel. CU-4 and I had a love in (cuddle), under the watchful evil eye of this dude sitting in the corner trying to do a cross word. I watched him and he evil-eyed me when CU-4 let out a squalk of discomfort as I was adjusting his sitting place. (It wasn't his usual set of trees he gets to look at and I didn't have him held just-so so that he could adjust to the new surroundings.)

We wandered home, at a casual pace, getting spashed from boot to thigh by kindly drivers, to no work men. Sigh.

CU-4 and I curred up against one another for a nappy, feeling tired from the weird dreams of the night before. We drifted. Him more fitfully then me. I eventually got up to tend to my anxieties about a work project that's not done yet and must be attended to before the end of the month. (End of the week would be so much better.)

Telephone calls, baby wails, fatigue. That was the afternoon.

Outside it was better. No snow. Now rain. CU-4 and I both find solitude outside. I love the rain of April and May.

I **** the new Blogger!

Arg. 15 minutes out of my life doesn't seem like much, except when I should be getting ready for church.

I just fought with Google and Blogger to try to get access to this account, and to post some new stories. It's been a comedy of errors (email was down for 24 hours, and I was in an evil cycle of trying to remember my password to this blog, and couldn't. ARG!)

DH is packing up to head to the big city for three days and I've been in a low-level panic. Couldn't post. Lost stories and now have CU-3 and 4 to attend to during the day which might make me slower to post at night! Argh.

Here, there and every where

"****'s house of pain." That's how my neighbor once answered my telephone for me. (It was DH's regular hour to call, so no harm was done.)

It seems that I'm in a rant mood lately. DH was telling family stories at work, and some of his coworkers are nurses who started to toy with the idea of post-partum depression. DH replied. "No. I don't think so. She's usually like this."

Stresses of life. Stresses of running a household. My hat is off to any one who decides to tackle the detritus of family life full-time. I've said this again and again to my coworkers: "I'd rather be here." Here being work. It's sooooo much easier then being a domestic god/dess.

Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying not having to listen to customer complaints for this year off. I know I'll look back on this time away with longing. It's the whole while-in-the-thick-of-it that's getting to me.

I once heard another parent say to their nagging child "This is an opportunity to try to exercise patience." I keep telling myself that, and "this too shall pass".

Oooh. Sounds like workmen are back on site!

Oh drat. Just CU-2, home sick from school, using the electrical pencil sharpener.

House bound

It's Easter Monday and the children are all stir crazy, except for little CU-4 who is sitting in the eye of the storm watching it all with an entertained and bewildered look on his face.

I've already chewed my way through several kick-lines of Peeps rabbits in an effort to self-medicate myself to a level of feeling something other then nothing.

The weather's been unusually chilly which just adds to the mix of cabin fever, and potty training efforts that are being met with mild success, when a toilet is near.

The units are jumping up and down and thudding about just about as much as the guys on the roof. They're back to do the front of the house which means that the children have a real reason to stay in side (physical safety), though telling the children big snow flakes are falling (roofing materials being dropped to the ground) has served as a mild form of entertainment.

> Enter explective here <

Apparently DH reads this blog from time-to-time to gauge how things are going in my head. He thinks he can get insite into what's going on when I go off the deep end.

Currently we're both absolutely stressed out.

We finally got a notice from the hydro company saying that we failed the electrical inspection for the new addition. Add that I've not really seen him for the last two weeks (he's been in the addition or dungeon working on fixing the part of the electrical that failed (S2 staples versus S1 staples. Who knew.) Heap on a missing receipt worth about $80 to be able to return electrical box extensions, screwy IKEA wall-mount lights, four children, two weeks of laundry, below average weather, a birthday party, homework and Easter, plus a looming deadline for work = one stressed out Maman and Papa with little relief in site.

I'm thinking that it's still easier to build then to move.

This too shall pass.

And so it goes

I just spent another fourty minutes of my life on the telephone doing an intake/observations session regarding support for CU-1. I can't help getting the feeling of deja vu all over again. It's like the intake workers don't read other's notes, and/or are looking for consistancies of stories in asking the same questions over and over again.

I have feelings of great sadness after these sessions. I feel like "here we go again", and that there's not a lot of sympathy or understanding to go around. I repeat the same story and nothing changes. People will go about and do what *they* think is right. So, in the end I say "Listen to the school's comments. They're having the most difficulty with his child. Do what needs to be done to support them, and I'll tow the line at home." It seems like the path of least resistance. And, besides, CU-1 spends most of his day there, why not conform. (It's all a bit 1984ish isn't it?)

On an equally depressive note, I got an email this morning from DH who got a note from the contractor's project manager saying things were behind by a week and one of the elements I was looking for is out of budget and we need to look at option A or B. (Why this wasn't pointed out at the begining of the project, or even earlier then today, I don't know. Perhaps this is fairly typical of project management.)

I think it's suffice to say that I'm getting frustrated. Perhaps it's because I'm a high-end communicator. I do it for a living. I like to know information is available. Perhaps I set my hopes (not expectations, they're set way too low) way to high on everything.

Oh well. This too shall pass.

It's 4:30 p.m and all is quiet

Well, relatively quiet. I *just* woke up from a much needed nappy.

CU-3 is out as well as CU-4. DH is making his way across town to pick-up a potentially new-to-us mattress from a Freecycle. I'm hoping it works out as ours has seen better days (and the conception of five children).

As DH said upon going to bed last night "I sure hope this one doesn't have me rolling toward the middle!"

I'm hoping for a lot of noise this week. We're coming down to the final five weeks of the NDIY (
NOT do-it yourself) project. Insulation, windows, drywall, flooring and roofs are all slated for this short week. The current forecast says it'll be raining men! Halleluiah!

Bring it on boys. Bring it on!

Feast or famine

It seems to be feast or famine over in this end of town. I'm missing out on PCs company as one of her CUs hit the skids and is house bound for the week.

I know I'll catch up with the details next week. The funny thing is I know I didn't give up chocolate for Lent!

Stuffed

Well, it's not like the shite has hit the fan, in so many words, it just feels like it.

March is usually a blah month for me, and it's continuing to be so.

Being on maternity leave, I thought, silly me, that things would be merry and bright and sunshine and roses. The closest I've come to roses is a bed of thorns.

In relation to world problems, mine are slight and certainly self-inflicted. They're there nonetheless, and, well, for several, time is the only thing to heal.

In the meantime, weather is turning up, which to me, might be a good thing, if I could just motivate myself to put down the fork and take a handful of CUs with me and go for a walk instead of forcing down my feelings, and self-medicating with Girl Guide Cookies. (Having 28 cartons in the house isn't helping either.)

Sad

Today I got a call from my X-DH's partner asking for CU-2's passport information. From previous conversations with CU-2, I've been told of her other parent's pending re-nuputuals this summer and the yearly promise to visit another continent. Apparently this year it might actually be true.

The telephone conversation was mildly distrubing for one reason, X-DH wasn't making the call. He almost never does. Everything is passed through the non-legal non-custodial step parent. Makes me wonder who is more important, his feelings or his children. Actually, I don't think I wonder any more.

At the end of the conversation, partner got the information he needed to make the arrangements for the trip. No offer to tell me when or where. I decided I could have asked, but I would have risked getting told some choice words, so why bother. It will all come out in due time.

On a similar wave length, I was reading in the news, the story of a young girl who was held, not on her own accord, for three months, and finally got away. As I read the details of the abuse, I thought that the techniques used are not that different from what my CUs have experienced. And so I worry. (I've been told my worries are misplaced.)

Which leads me to what I've been wanting to blog about (just to get it out of my head). Every night that my CUs are not home, I put the porch light on. Every night they are home, the light is turned off. CUs if you ever read this, know that this tradition will go on. There's a place for you here. Always. No matter what. Je t'aime.

All's well that ends well

I wish I could say all is well here. One word: bickering.

My MOL once referred to us as the Bickersons - as in a family name. How fitting is that for us.

We had a ray of sunshine earlier last week when hell froze over and my DXH sent through CU-1 and 2s report cards. It was significant permafrost here when CU-1s grades came back stronger then the first term. Praise the Saints!

For a whole 24 hours every one woke up happy. Down right chipper. Then back to cloud cover, as usual.

We're under a lot of stress from a significant household renovation. DH is, well, probably scared shitless spending this amount of money, especially considering within the last three years we'd seriously had to consider visiting our local food bank. (For us, things tend to go bust, bust, bust or boom, but in a bad way. So far, things have been holdering their own though, and I'm not trying to court troubles. My psoriasis is going over time on me, which means I must be super stressed out too. The last time things flared up this badly was during "The Troubles" when DXH and I were too close to tango and were in the heat of a mediated (dis)agreement.)

I'm hoping this too will pass. We've got probably another six weeks on the build (from the project plan we've received), and then it's time to put the house back together.