Vocabulary builder

Is has been reported that my dearest CU-3, my gentile CU-3, my baby has used the word CRAP.

DH was the one to report this too me. Allegedly CU-3 said she was hungry. When asked what she wanted for breakfast, she brightly chirps up "Crap! I wannnnnnt it."

Not sure that he was hearing correctly, DH has CU-3 to repeat. "I wannnnnnt crap."

Though it took DH a couple of more times to decipher what CU-3 really wanted (candy for breakfast), I am happy to report that CU-3 eventually did get fed and had a crap-free breakfast.

Taken from the inside of a washroom

What do you do when it's in use?

Better then a soap opera

XDH responds:

Re: Kung Fu classes: CU-1 and Partner of DXH take private lessons 3 times a week - the benefit of regular attendance is built in. CU-1 gets more focused time on Saturdays, Mondays and Wednesdays, the classes are designed for them, the test are schedule in accordance to their knowledge.

CU_2's interest for dance lesson is linked with her friend, if we were to enroll her she would want to be in the same class, so I would not choose the location, I was told that the studio is in the west end, less than 5 minutes away.

Thanks for the invitation, Doglette, Partner of DXH and I can make it Sunday after 13:00 - (sunday is the 23rd not the 22nd)

see you then,

My response:
CU-2's interest in dance is general. We've talked about it for over a year. There is a studio near the SuperStore on Richmond which she could attend. However,if you choose to register her to the one closer to your home, could you please provide me with the details. We will make every effort to get her to her lessons.

Do you need additional information so that the children can attend their other extra curricular activities?

See you Sunday, September 23rd. I'm sure CU-1 is thrilled with your accepting the invitation. This could go a long way to bringing peace to both households.

* * * * *


What the $#%@ was I thinking? :D

Playing chicken

DXH writes:
"CU-1 mentioned on several occasions that you agreed to invite us over to your house in order for the pets to meet and to sample some of your homemade treats (ice cream sandwiches, cake, and other goodies). Let us know if you still want us over and what time would be convenient for you.)"

I respond:
"I appreciate your willingness to come for a visit. CU-1 and I have talked about it many times. How about Sunday, September 22 at 1:00 p.m.? Please advise if you are able to make that date. I will work with CU-1 to prepare a treat for your visit."

Humor in the every day

Lately I've not been blogging about humorous stuff. It seems that the day-to-day-to-day-to-day grind has really busted my chops. The constant hurling of insults, the scrapping and the flying of fur (and that's just between the cats!) has taken a tole.

Today is different though. I've been reading www.megfowler.com as part of my morning ritual (as well as FBorFW and Miss Vicky's Offhand Remarks) and love them all to pieces. They're funny, frequently insightful and take me other places then where I am. Which is a good thing as I usually obsess about stuff going on in my immediate hand-span area.

In this week's request to post from Meg, she asked to write a list of things that others talk way too much about. Though number one was an easy tree to shake (my DXH), I poled DH to see if there was anything else I was nattering on about that bothered him. (It turned out to be an interesting survey as apparently he doesn't pay close attention to what I say.)

So while pursuing other people's lists, I found a couple other links that got put on my quick task navigation bar. Congratulations to Raising the wrecking crew and This chick's life. More traffic to you! ;-)

Mixed nuts

In a fit of frustration, I yelled at two of my CUs "ARE YOU NUTS?"

When they didn't respond (and I realized I was yelling because of my own anxiety arising from managing the immediate surroundings [crossing the street]), I immediately toned down my voice and said "Yah you are. You (pointing to CU-2) are a peanut. You (pointing to CU-3) are a cashew."

Whew. Another parenting foible skim-coated.

* * * * *

During the quieter moments of this weekend (which were very few and very far between), I got to thinking about self-promotion. I had been moving some of my photographs around the house, trying to cover up some of the bald spots, when I got to thinking about the studio tour going on this weekend, and how it's a chance for artists to show their work in their studios. As a photographer, I don't have a studio where I create art. As a photographer, it's harder to find places that will show my work because most don't see photography as art. Thus the conundrum - how to self-promote?

So, here I was thinking what about a Kitchen Gallery? (That's where I currently have four mini-shows going on right now! I started pulling through the ideas - one Saturday a month - 2 to 4 p.m. having a vernisage, show the work?? Crazy. I think I'm a Buckeye.

MegFowler made me do it

MegFowler over at MegFoweler.com has come up with the idea of the Friday love list. Great idea.

Here's what I put up in response to her quest to share:

picking veggies in the garden
a really really good book that draws you through with velocity and force
snail mail mail
mailboxes on posts (country style)
overgrown or messy gardens
shoes that fit
going to bed and actually being able to sleep
garlic (I’m cooking with it right now!)
Pizza night
When Child Unit 3 says it’s a beautiful day
going to Giant Tiger just to look at stuff
trips to the library with everyone in tow
Autumn

It's Annie Lennox time again

Remember her?

Well, when I went to drop off CU-4 today, CU-1 was re-coiffed, as he'd mentioned yesterday. I wonder if he'll ever see the natural colour of his hair ... Oh well, it is only hair. (Oh, and, well, now, he looks MORE like CU-4, though CU-4 has more!)

Keep your head up -- Movin' on

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These)
Annie Lennox

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I travel the world
And the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused.

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I travel the world
And the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.

Hold your head up - Keep your head up - Movin' on
Hold your head up - Movin' on - Keep your head up - Movin' on
Hold your head up - Movin' on - Keep your head up - Movin' on
Hold your head up - Movin' on - Keep your head up.

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused.

Hold your head up - Keep your head up - Movin' on
Hold your head up - Movin' on - Keep your head up - Movin' on
Hold your head up - Movin' on - Keep your head up - Movin' on
Hold your head up - Movin' on - Keep your head up.

Breaking a confidence

Ok. Here goes. I'm breaking my CU-2's confidence in the biggest of ways. I need to record this in some way, and I need to throw this out to the universe (and all my critics) just to get it out of my head.

Last week, when CU-2 was home, she sidled up to me and asked me if she could talk to me. As she didn't really respond to my question about timing (right now, or later). So she led me to the "sacred space" aka the parent's bedroom where she started to unpack the baggage.

Out came her angst about her father and his partner. About her struggle with her feelings towards the rules and inhabitants of her other home. She commented that she loved her father dearly. She didn't like that she was told to stay in her room until they were ready for her to come out. That she couldn't play freely with her neighborhood friend or use the computer as liberally as she has there. And then there's the subject of his partner's car, window control and breath. (If I'm going to break confidence, in for a penny, in for a pound.)

I listened carefully, not offering comment (I think I bit my tongue more then once), except to ask her how she felt about something, or what she thought would be a better solution.

I offered to roll-play with her. I suggested that if she couldn't talk to her father without tearing up (or breaking down as she had done with me), that she could write out her thoughts and read it to him. (With that suggestion, she got a panic-stricken look on her face for fear that her father's partner would see [and eventually hear] what she had to say.)

We got to a point where she had enough talking. She felt comfortable with my suggestions that she talk to her father, asking for his attention alone - by going for a walk, a drive in the car, or, as she'd done with me, finding a quiet place to talk, so that she had his attention.

I encouraged her to think about what she wanted to say, and find an appropriate time to talk - not when he's busy with any one else, or by anything else.

* * *
I saw her a couple of times this week. Twice before DXH's partner came to pick up the children. (DXH was out of town this week ...) Each time I saw her, she started by saying "I didn't talk to him yet." No "Bonjour Maman!" She's very very preoccupied by the weight of her need to discuss things with her father.

Today I mentioned that, as he was supposed to be home today from his trip, she may want to wait until the next rotation to talk to him. She told me "Maybe" then "I can't wait. I have to talk to him tonight."

Ok. So, here I am, eating my way through stuff because of my increasing anxiety level. DH and I have roll-played responses to an almost guaranteed nasty email radiating from his side of the fence about me propagating this discussion.

If he only did his homework about pubescent children and how they start to look at their worlds differently. This will be another foray into her exploring the more adult world.

Good luck on your negotiations kiddo. I sure hope he opens his eyes, ears and heart to you.

On again, off again

Since Mondayish, I've had an on-again, off-again relationship with my computer. My motherboard crashed and I've been (or rather DH) has been trying to re-piece parts of my virtual life back together.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I'm coming back on line. No email yet, but I have access to the outside world to read news and I'm now available through Yahoo!

Foibles

Growing up I was the usual, including being admonished for being messy. I've carried that yoke all my life - through single-dom, through marriage, through being a divorcée, back to being married. The yoke hasn't been any easier to carry as I get older. I've just learned to carry the criticism with more grace or absorb it with less visible emotions.

By far, I would say, keeping house as a married woman is the most difficult. There is a strong point of view of many people that the house should be spic and span no matter that the wife/mother/woman-of-the-house may have put in an eight hour day at a paying job, plus the commute, plus the seven hours of parenting (home work, face washing, teeth brushing, and playing with the children). (I just finished The Nanny Diaries. Apparently not all of us have these problems.)

Getting CU-2 to do the math, you have 10 hours left in the day. (I know. I know. CU's back to school tomorrow.)

While I wish, some days, that I had the extra hour, I'm looking at 9 hours. Many doctors report that people should get on average 7 to 9 hours of sleep a night to feel good, be more productive, and avoid getting sick.

So, here's the coin toss. Walk through the house and tidy the kitchen (putting away the clean dishes from the time saving washing machine, and reloading the dishes, putting out the garbage, picking up the remainders of toys, and school supplies left by the walking CUs, and generally trying to put things in their place (or find a new place for things that come into the house), followed by the living room (straightening, sweeping, picking up), followed by choosing to put the stuff on the stairs (that is perpetually ignored) or running it up to the CU's bedrooms. Well, I could do that for a two hours, or sleep. If I don't do it, the mess piles up on itself. If I do do it, I cut into valuable sleep time, and that's if I can sleep. (My own personal anxieties come into play here.)

Any one reading this would know this routine all too well.

So, what triggered the latest bout of public remorse? Correspondence with our contractor. Apparently the slow down on the project is directly related to the state of our home during construction. (It doesn't seem to matter that 1. they saw what they were getting into, 2. they were told to talk to us if they had any problems accessing places, they were to say something. They didn't. That they also left the detailed work on every room for weeks, which left us with stacks and stacks of unsorted piles seems to be par for the course.)

Anyway, I'm feeling public admonishment and it's bring a wave of sadness. Getting emails from the contractor are about as much fun as getting them from dear XDH.

I'm just not feeling competent today.

And then shit happens

Last night I went to bed obsessing about the state of the house. This morning I woke up obsessing about the state of the house. For any one who knows the site, we've been going through some rough times with delays on getting work done. Well, they got rougher.

I dared CC the owner of the company organizing the labor working on the site requesting removal of garbage left on the site for the last month, and for a time line of when the work would be completed. In reply, I received a tersely worded email from the owner.

There was much hearsay used in the letter, seeing that he hadn't set foot on the site since signing the contract last fall. There clearly was a lot of butt covering from the minions about what was and wasn't being done.

From a consumer's point of view, I stand by the emails I've sent to the project managers, including requests for updates, and budget. I asked for better communication so as to set expectations for me, and my family. I asked for this repeatedly.

The response from this owner was, well, disappointing. Opportunity lost to do some good PR. On the scale, it was an interesting letter, worthy of XDH in many respects.

Dora scares the bejezzers out of me

Dora, of Explorer fame scares the bejezzers out of me.

It really all started almost two years ago when DH and I went on a road trip with CU-3, the parental units to the States. We stopped in at a Walgreens, or some such drugstore where they sell oh so much more. I saw DH sneaking around and then out the door with a package that he refused to share the contents of. Thinking romantic thoughts, I thought he'd bought ME something nice.

Out in the parking lot, with CU-3 firmly ensconced in the car seat, he shows me a disembodied head of Dora (the rest remaining in the bag). He thought it would be cute as CU-3 so much liked Dora. I berated him telling him it was a large doll (larger then CU-3), then about the price, then about the fear factor. This was no Chucky doll to be sure, but it would eventually be used to strike fear into the unsuspecting.

Since Dora moved in, she's been used to pad out the bed (to make it look like some one was in bed, but really wasn't), pop-up in unusual places, and basically lie around to be found by a passer-by. The immediate reaction to some of these "surprises" is, seeing that CU-3's body attributes are some what like Dora, that she's been hurt or worse ...

Thus, this post. I found Dora hanging out at the bottom of the stairs. Yikes! followed by panic.

Dora, you've got to go.

It's Tuesday

And yesterday marked a banner day for me. I read a book. Actually, I finished a book that I borrowed from the library no more then three times. I can thank/blame my former neighbor for the idea of completing the book. She said that the first thing she wanted to do was to start reading again (putting the house up for sale and moving lock, stock and barrel was a grueling task).

The book title I finished? Mommies who Drink. Apropo I would say.

This, that, and the other thing

Never has so much of so little occurred in such an expanse of time.

Firstly, I'm feeling under-motivated not having connected with Perpetual Chocoholic this month. I mean I'm really suffering from withdrawal here.

Secondly, having just completed three weeks of vacation with all four CUs, I'm glad for the return to the regular schedule. CU-1 has been moving into pre-teenness with great relish and is driving me around the bend and then taking a left-turn at Alberquere. But that's his job.

Here on the home front, things have been moving ever so slowly. When we got back, the contractors still hadn't finished the job they set out to do oh way so back in January. That was a disappointment. DH and I set aside our feelings and pressed on with other immediate tasks.

Shelves went up, closet organizers organized closets, garbage (more then our city restricted three bags) went to the curb. The house is starting to look sharp. Now, it's those last ten pounds that have to be addressed. CU-4's baptism and open house Saturday is the train light at the end of the tunnel. Whoo whoo! Can you hear it coming? DH's recent bout of fluishness didn't help with the progress, though he was pretty good attending to the babes. And my burning the midnight oil has helped lots, though, when I have to wake for the four o'clock feed and do a side tangent to the bathroom only to come back to DH scowling at me as he thinks I abandoned the baby to howling makes for a cranky maman (and, regrettably children's programming only runs in 30 minute increments so just as I'm getting a really good nap in, I'm awakened with the programming announcements of CU-3).

Gotta run, my howler monkey is going off again. CU-4 doesn't like it when I'm out of site for more then his memory can keep.

Best wishes

Happy birthday Mothership!

Keep on trucking!

What can I say

It's a wild day here at the ranch. The baby CU-s are fighting over toys, the pre-teen CU-s are provoking the babies with the toys, there's a carpenter destroying the newly built bathroom because it was put in sub-par, our neighbors officially move out today, it's Wednesday so it's cleaning day. And to add insult to injury, Perpetual Chocoholic rode by and I missed her! Wah wah wah.

The va-ca-tion (how I was taught how to spell vacation) was EX-CE-LLENT! I actually only thought of the fur that was flying at the home site a couple of times. Double-excellent for me. Mind you I came back to havoc and chaos of stuff that is still not done, or is done so poorly that it's deemed unacceptable (for example, a sewer stack is duct-taped off ...).

I've got try and figure out what to do today. Library, stationary store, visit to the Guide house? All of those things need to be done, as well as care and feeding of the birds, cats, hamster and kids. I'm pretty glad that I'm not working right now, though I'll get to do this all over again next year too!

We're back

Catching up on stuff. (Yard werk primarily - more on that in another post). Meanwhile, worth viewing: PostSecret Mini-film.

On the road again

Not really again. Just on the road. More like finally.

After a nerve wracking couple of sleepless nights, DH has gone to get the rental, CU-4 is fed and watered, and CU-3 is still charging her batteries.

The Tardy Contractor has guys climbing all over our house like little worker ants. When we get home, I expect there'll still be stuff on the defecenies list (there are dings that have to be fixed as of right now, sigh. My paint job! Sob)

I'm trying to tidy-up some last minute items, mostly personal (like showering the night grime away) and a few non-personal - like making the cucumber sandwiches for CU-1, and collecting DH's pride of coffee cups that have collected around his desk.

Once the transport is loaded, we'll probably sit around waiting for the noon cut over time that DXH has so generously provided to us (two whole hours extra - cross-over at noon rather then the usual 2:00 p.m time). He couldn't allow the children to come earlier so that we could caravan with the rest of the family because they're job shadowing today. (Neither CUs are teens yet.)

So, oh well.

So, for the rest of you. I've found my address book and will call or post cards to you from points further South. I heard we're to have rain for about 1/2 of the time there. Maybe it'll only come at night.

Catch you in August.

What goes around, comes around

That idiom has particular meanings as the clock ticks down.

Waiting at the karma bus stop.

Panic, and definitions of "prompt"

Panic is setting in.

We're a week to travel. The house isn't finished. Relations are hitting the city in FIVE (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) DAYS! DXH hasn't sent the travel documentation as of yet (unless, as DH has pointed out, he's couriering it.) This last thing has me nuts. NUTS I tell you.

I've sent the yahoo emails providing as many details regarding our trip as possible. The latest went out Wednesday night. Now DXH might complain that a detailed itinerary hasn't been issued for the trip, (um, he didn't provide one for his trip.), but that could be easily slapped down as being incorrect. But, by the time that's attended to, it will be too late, and the vacation would be borked.

DH and I have been having a verbal slap-fest over this one and the definition of the word prompt as used in the arbitrated agreement: "the parents shall provide each other promptly their written consent for any cross-border travel".

I want to prepare to escalate. It will, in the smallest possible way, help me feel like I'm doing something to move things forward, even if it's ever so slowly.

Part of me wishes ill will to befall upon DXH, even if it's in the most possibly childish manner (such as "I'll remember what you've done and give it back to you too when it's my turn!"

Like when I was eight and hurt myself badly, I'm going to hole up on couch. Wait, no. I can't do that (more because I can't find the couch! then because I'm an adult and have children to take care of). Maybe I can coax them to keep me company? ;-)

Cranky, what else is new?

Oh, the perpetual feelings anger and frustration.

After a roughish sleeping night, I was awakened by the sub-project manager coming through with a carpenter asking for clarification of the deficiencies list (that I had provided to the project manager that's actually running the show, over three weeks ago).

That's not even the bad part. I was in my painting t-shirt, not having found my pajamas for the last few days now, and being utterly exhausted from giving the master bed and bath their lick of paint, when the front door opens. DH jumps over the bed to greet the sub-project manager and the carpenter de jour. Though it was a gallant attempt, in giving me a minute to get up, DH looses points shortly there after.

***

So, there I am, in a thigh-skimming t-shirt, scurrying from my rumpled nest (which consists of a mattress and box spring on the floor in the front room) towards the kitchen where there's a mountain of clean laundry waiting to be processed. I figured there had to be some clean underwear and maybe a pair of shorts in one of the baskets that I could quickly swap out with.

In the kitchen, having no time to find, let alone swap out clothes, DH takes the project manager and carpenter on the tour to show the deficiencies that still exist on the project. First the kick-plate, next the missing molding, lastly the powder room. Where am I in all of this? Desperately trying to invoke my invisibility super power, inching closer and closer to the screen door so that while the carpentry crew can't check out my modesty, the neighbors can!

The tour continues upstairs from where DH has the gall to yell down to me to clarify something on the list!

If you get a laugh from this, good. I'll laugh. Eventually. Maybe.

It's Monday at the homestead

So that usually means no one from the construction company comes.

Surprise, surprise when the HVAC guy showed up to do a bit of work. No plasterer, no floor guys though. That's not a surprise.

I, on the other hand, have been dragging my wagon around, trying to get something done. Got a load of laundry in and on to the line, and a have a second coat of paint onto the study walls. I'm not a particularly good painter, and it shows. But, it'll hold until I can get the money together (if ever) to get the walls professionally painted. (Maybe if I win the hospital lottery draw today, this won't be an issue!!)

Bagged

Seems that I'm making up for the lack of progress in recent weeks. Painting, tile installation, moving, clearing, and more installing, and that's just the inside job. Phew.

Tomorrow the plasterer comes to look at his job. I'm going to have him focus on two of the four areas he worked on as I've already started to paint and don't want to have to do it again. Supposedly the flooring guy is supposed to be in tomorrow. I'm not holding my breath. The contractor's been saying that for two weeks now.

Some where in the detritus of my kitchen (where everything from the study, which is being painted, has been shifted to) is my agenda. I certainly hope that I don't have anything planned for early this week 'cause I don't know about it!

Primed

Well, the walls have been plastered and sanded. Now it's time for me to kick into high gear. The problem with that is that my gears feel stripped. After putting in a full day amusing to and attending to every one of CU-4s needs, followed by an intense four-to-six hour shift with CU-3, I then get the privilege to put in another four to five hours painting?

This is where I wish I had an extra five grand in my pocket to go "Krunk this" and hire help to paint every freaking wall in my house ...

Seeing that that isn't going to happen in my life time, I'd better get back at er.

And saints be praised

The amazing plasterer is here to work his magic. Hallelujah.

Does it really have to get worse before it get's better?

There really must be some turning point to that statement. I was contemplating the adage as I was taking new construction/house pictures for show-and-tell.

The front room is a big improvement, though I am vehemently against televisions in the bedroom (for reasons still unknown to me). (My bed is current in front of the TV, when it's on the floor, that is. So, it's not a good thing.)

Got a wake up call this morning. It wasn't DH giving me his travel status, but the contractor/company owner himself. Calls out to his number two man wasn't getting any attention, so I upped the anti yesterday afternoon by inviting him for a walk-through through this site. Got his attention, though as far as I can tell, he's not taking me up on my invite. And I'd bake a cake too.

No, no. Instead, he asked me for a copy of the deficiencies list (which the project manager already has) and kept on about "If you're not happy, I'm not happy." I told him there was very little more he could do to make me happy except to finish up and get out of my house. Really.

Oh there was so much back-peddling, the guy could have been in the circus. He tried to tell me the length of the project was Y, and I had to remind him it was X and that we'd not seen a projected project plan since the one that identified we'd be done six weeks prior. (BTW telling me the project could have lasted four and a half months, and here we're sitting at the seven month mark doesn't really make that much of a difference does it?)

So here we are now. The guy asking for two more weeks to be done. Sure. Go right ahead. I'm not going anywhere, nor is the house. What else am I to do? I still don't think you're going to have the trades lined up to deal with the issues I presented to your minion several weeks ago addressed (like the ding in the NEW bathtub. And hey, how about some handles for the door? Oh, yes, and then there's the trim work that's still not done, the speed holes in the bathroom because the HVAC guy moved the fan and didn't hook it back up, blah blah blah.)

I really just want you all out so that I can bork my house on my own.

Inconsiderate stuff

Well, what suckage this morning to get up (late), get out the door running, only to do the shoulder check to see vandalism done to our yard. It wasn't much - the dicky little fence and lighting around the corner, but it was enough to pause and slow our progress as I heaved the fence out of the middle of the road back into a temporary place.

Drunks. It's drunks on a rip, going through the hood. Our neighbor got the same treatment last year. Nothing else was touched. Not the ceramic pig, the plastic turkey vulture, the polar bear cut out. Not the plastic pumpkin statue or the lady bug. My Russian Sage got a bit chewed up though. Minor stuff for living in this 'hood.

Oh, and for those of you who keep track, no plasterer today. This means no sanding, which means no painting, which means no room shifting, which, ultimately means, no progress.

Waiting for September. We might be done by then.

Plastered

That seems to be the latest joke around here. I'm getting plastered. Well, my house is. I'm not. Maybe I should do that. Might help lift my spirits.

I've been getting the feeling of late that I'm just not getting a lot done. I feel that when DH is home, I get a bit more motivated to do things.

Could be the result of the natural chemical cycle, that I've hit the 1/2 way point of my home stay with CU-4, heat, lack of sleep or the zillion year old mattress.

Lately I've been disasterizing everything. I'm hoping it's just fatigue talking.

I need a nap.

Life, laziness and everything

So construction is grinding along - it seems that I can actually get things done faster then they can these days.

Was it just the other day that I asked the sub-Project Manager if we were going to be done before the end of July? I guess it was.

Grandma C had some sage advice which I now paraphrase regularly put your expectations that it will be done by September so you wont be so disappointed, and you could have a thrill if they're actually done by August!

Summer time and the lawlessness abounds

At this end of the country I'm having several WTF moments.

Working backwards:

WTF #1:
Canada Post has issued me a delivery notice to pick up my parcel tomorrow at their local drop-off site. Funny that. I was home, sitting at my kitchen table as I watched the delivery truck roll down the street. Did it matter that we've installed a door bell that plays the theme song to the Magnificent Seven? (my DH's choice), or that the door was wide open? or that the driver also left another parcel for CU-2? I guess not. Calling Customer Service didn't help much.


WTF #2:
Just coming back from picking up a few groceries, I see a black van with special *twinkly* lights. I recognized the van, and the burly guys all dressed in black emptying out of it as I'd witnessed something similar in one of my old 'hoods while taking a much younger version of Cu-1 and 2 to the park. These special cops, along with the regularly uniformed ones, plus the special canine unit were walking around the block where my home is located. The regular copy said I'd nothing to worry about and that nothing was going on. While taking down the laundry a few minutes later, the canine unit had asked if I'd seen some one scurrying across the back yard, possibly a la Ferris Buller. Nope. Only a squirrel with extremely large nads.

WTF #3:
Was out at a piece of outdoor culture yesterday, enjoying myself at the community park, when in came a couple with a large dog. When they were told it was a no dog park, they moved approximately 1 metre to the North of where the whole family was sitting. Upon giving my husband the dirty look, he handed me his cell phone so that I could call by-law. The couple had sited that they just moved to the neighborhood and didn't realize it was a no-dog park. Um. There are signs at all entrances ... Their leaving the park didn't give me cause to disconnect the call as there was another dog, (white lab?) tied to the tree. No water, no attention given to it. No indication who the owner was. After 40 minutes, the by-law officers showed up. The owners and their CUs disengaged themselves from the free entertainment we were enjoying, to confront the officers. Perhaps they learned, the hard way, that it is a no dog park with a $120 fine.

WTF #4:
Not ten minues after the family and their pooch left the park that a lady and her two Westies came in. She preceded to tell me that she didn't know this was a no dog park (even though I warned her about the fine that I just witnessed) and that she regularly brings her dogs there in the evening, particularly in winter, when no one was there. When I pushed to say that the fine is $120, and that they're doing construction all around the park so that there will be more eyes on the park, she said she'd be willing to chance the fine. Ok. So noted.

WTF #5:
Mexican stand-off with another chick-maiden about her dogs. She's shown the "screw you" attititude as she's been coming back to the park the same time every day now for several days. I'll just keep calling by-law until this matter is resolved, unless I happen to be able to identify her abodal address, then they can take the complaint, and the fine to her directly. (Doesn't help her case much that I've got pictures of the first infraction of her dog taking a crap in the park, and that the last time her dog came up and sniffed and licked me. No one does that uninvited.)

Lawlessness and dog shit

It really bites my bunions to watch this lady saunter through the park shared by my kid's school, the day care and the community center.

She had her dog off leash and the dog shit twice. She sauntered out of the park, into her neighborhood, dog off the leash. Where is freaking by-law to uphold the city's rules?

(Of note, by-law will happily give a parking ticket for some one who's been parking for 35 minutes, in an one hour parking zone, but can't get themselves in gear to patrol the parks?)

The house of pain

I wish, I so wish I could just sort things out with the DXH.

After a faux pas yesterday with the day care, I pick-up an email from him this morning identifying a different site that he's taken the children too. 20 + minute bus ride plus a 20 + walk to get them on the other side of town.

I called up the coordinator of the program to make sure they weren't going to be on an outing (CU-3 is out until 4 o'clock) and was told to talk to DXH to confirm that my name has been added to the list of people to be able to pick-up the children . . . Um? WTF?

Well, I'm hoping that he hasn't over looked this and I've asked the camp coordinator to talk to him about that as it shouldn't be my business to have to pursue.

DH suggests I bring a copy of the arbitration agreement along, just in case the cops have to be called in to get the kids released. I'm thinking that would be a bad move on DXH's part as well as mine. I'm hoping it all goes off seamlessly. We'll see tomorrow.

Apparently it's working

CU-2 told me yesterday morning:

CU-2: Remember the conversation we had last night?

Me: Yah

CU-2: We're not done yet.

:D

Control freaks

There's a song that goes La da da da di, la da da da do. That's how I'm feeling right now if I was to give an honest response to my day/life.

I'm waiting for a report from my brother who had had tickets to see my bio father before the caustic email event. That will eventuallly click through. I'm more back-page gossip about it then anything.

Then there's my own, more up-close-and-personal soap opera. Got my own, personally directed caustic email from my DXH. The usual blather, this time taking on a new direction about the inapppriateness of my pressuing our jointly guarded CUs into making a living arrangement decision. Huh?

Let's see, I've been having talks with CU-2 about what's going on around her - our neighbor's who's "son" chose to live with his mother since that happened a couple of years ago. It's just going through the cycle again.

Got an earful from DH about it who raised concerns about my methodolgy. He's pulling up his own observations and experiences. I was/am disappointed that he would consider me taking a position of adversary and shit disturber and forcing my children into something. (Which is what my DXH is accusing me of doing.) I told DH that that wasn't the case. That when something comes up, CU has the option of talking to me about it. She had a question about why/how her grandparents divorced, so I told her a lite version that would make sense. Part of that story is my story about my choices. That I also told her she could make that choice. Meh.

He claims language barrier. I say nope. It's outside your circle of interest. You just don't care about "girlie stuff", emotionally charged stuff, seeking higher ground when it comes around knocking.

Any who, when this kind of thing does come up, I usually follow it up with something ridiculous like a statement that she can make that choice when she's 18 and wants to get away from us. Or when she's 35 and getting married, she'll have to decide if you want to live with his parents or us. Or that she'll have to buy a house with three wings, one for use, one for her father and his partner, and one for her. That usually lightens the subject and then we move on.

In this case, after I finished with the email, I wanted to find out what she said to her father to get a better bead on the situation. She had, indeed talked to her father about it. Regretably, she'd had a nightmare proceeding the discussion and in her nightmare, she wasn't allowed/wasn't going to see me any more. That upset her a lot. Thus, probably a one sided discussion with her father getting angrier and not being open minded about what she was saying. To add to this creme de merd, during that week, CU-1 had exited DXH's car to say hello to DH and CU-4 at school and didn't look for on-coming traffic. Both CU-1 and 2 were banned from exiting the car prematurely for the rest of the week.

The long and the long of it, CU-2 and I had what I considered a good chin wag. She did most of the wagging, I interjected, where I deamed appropriate "how do you feel about that". We covered a lot of ground. Everything from bad car smells, to what attributes make a friend, to crushes, to wet farts. Like I said, it was a lot of ground to cover.

I'm working very very very hard to be the kind of Mom the children feel comfortable coming to talk to, even when it's not something I really want to talk about.

Oh, and happy father's day

Oh grow up

Shit storm at this end of things. Construction isn't going particularly well. Major work slow down. Regretably this contractor sold us a great idea. Reality check pleaze!

On top of all this, it's Father's Day weekend. Happy day to you know who. On the other hand, the base of my gene pool, perhaps you could spend some time picking the lint out of your naval while you're so stuck looking there.

The short version of the story is that there's a sort-of family reunion this summer based on activities my Dad organized, oh, about 18 years ago. So, he started it.

Mr. Gene Pool sends off a blasting email to all the sibs whinging why isn't he and his squeeze invited. He closes his email (which to be sure we all get the message, he's sending via post) with the old evil eye "I hope your children ..." statement.

Good freaking luck with your pout-fest man. Some one's sold you a bill of goods on who and what this is all about. (This all kind of reminds me of the time my DXH stated that he would allow me to have access to our children for a family visit if HE could attend. At that time (it was during a mediation session), I asked him if it was his intent to pull up to the kitchen table and join the hen party, or would he sit in his car like a stalker and offer to watch everything going on?!!)

So, here's to the end of the discussions. I'm throwing my own hissy fit by deleting his email address from my listings (I already haven't written his post address in my address book). As soon as I can get the money scraped together, I'll send you everything you lent me. (REMEMBER - I took the money as a loan. I didn't want to be owing to you.)

I don't need this kind of juvi crap in my life coming from two sides.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a tantrum schedule that's long overdue.

A whole big pile of sour grapes

Wish we could get some good wine out of all the sour grapes around here.

****

It's been a week since the contractor's been through. I sent a two pager to him and have a meeting set up for next week. So much for this group being different from all other contractors. Bah.

****

During an email round up, thankfully I got nothing from the DXH today! This weekend, the house will be quieter as CU-1 and 2 aren't home and will only be home for a short week next week. Thems the breaks.

****

More from the email round up. Got an email (paper copy to follow through the post I'm told) from my bio Father. Apparently some one has confirmed summer plans for an immediate family reunion. He is peeved that he and his dame aren't invited (even though he points out that the family extension goes in a specific direction - with my Mom's side of the family). He's got his nose out of joint big time. So much for that inheritance. Guess I should start playing the lottery again.

A game of inches

Joel on software, a publication I read from time to time, has a very good article called A game of inches. Even though what he writes about is more work related, it suits very well all that is going on in my life.

Last night, while I posted yesterday's note, DH and I were having a blow-out over the latest shenanigans. He was claiming the pasifist route, not wanting to poke-the-bear-jeapordize-our-vacation side of things. (DH, if you're reading this, may I remind you of the numerous times we rolled over for this guy, just to make nice, and have continue the abuse?)

The news that just came is that DXH has relented and has provided me with the needed information (but not without the half-hearted jab at me. Comes with the territory.)

Bon voyages mes cheris, mes enfants! Je vous adore. Je vous aime. J'attenderai jusqu'a les prochains jours ensemble.

Violation of the spirit, if not the letter

"The children will be with us at all times and we will forward our home phone to our cells."

How's that for violation of the spirit, if not the letter of the agreement.

Summertime fun fun fun

Got home to many messages. Two alone form DXH. He finally gave in and gave me the flight information, all the while questioning my abilities to handle email. He's using his right to access the children extra by requesting the children three days early for "a family event".

I sent back an acknowledgement under one email, then realized that "hey wait a minute, you've got to tell me where the children are going to be as it's more than 72 hours that they'll be out of the city". So off that email went. (While I felt I was rather business like requesting the flight information per the arbitrated agreement, he was bad-dog, shove-your-nose-in-it-I-want-you-to-do-this-and-this.) Perhaps I'm too sensitive.

I'm looking for this month to be over.

Cat spray and fun

DH is currently trying to hunt down where one of the cats *might* have sprayed. Then again, it might be the Pee Pee trees which stink like cat spray when their bloomed branches are brought in for decoration. We just had a big rain, so that might be the answer. Peeuuu.

So ends my night. Prior to that I got a curious question for DH asking about post-partem depression. He was wondering if I was having some of that. Hmmm. Let's see. CU-1 and 2 are scheduled to be MIA for a good part of June and most of July. They're here for the week. Growning up way to fast, and I miss them. Miss who they were. (It's bitter-sweet to watch CU-3 and 4. I'm moving into unchartered territory with them; stuff I've only seen in part with the older CUs. It kind of suks.

But, sadness aside, it was a great weekend. CU-2 did a lot of Brownie activities, preceeded by a family birthday part for her, (she'll be at her Father's for her b-day) and followed by her best-friend's birthday party. CU-1 had his vernisage and made some incredible art. He also played a lot with a kid from down the block. The heat helped break the ice, so to speak. A lot of water was used and a lot of fun was had.

CU-3 enjoyed her "moutain". CU-4 got the raw end of the stick. Though he had some amazing naps while Maman overcame power tool fears. (That DH then took apart most of what she did and redid it again, didn't help for the morale, but that's for another entry.)

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.

Framed!

We've been framed! At least there's been a start to framing of the addition. We had three guys wacking away at wood from 7:30 this morning to late into the afternoon.

(This is the third wall going up.)

I poked around the site upon coming home this evening. It feels so little. DH keeps telling me to keep the faith, that it'll be worthwhile.

I hope I believe him.

And so it begins, take two

I've been doing a lot of grousing at this end of things. My poor DH has had to hear me go on and on and on about the slow start to the construction project. Stuff beyond my control in this relationship (weather for example) has slowed the start.

I woke up to a lot of banging this morning with DH breaking Rule #1 to tell me the guys were outside working on the framing.

[Insert sound of record needle being dragged over an old LP.]

DH just came in to pick up his work stuff after dropping CU-3 off at school. "Too cold" he announces between an icicle incrusted mustache.

Apparently the guys are doing some prep. work only (cutting down the TechnoPosts) and then are shutting down the site. (-43 F with the wind chill is a bit, um, brisk I'll admit). They'll try again tomorrow.

Good for them. Bad for me. I'm getting cabin fever. TV is becoming a bunch of repeats. I've almost caught up on all the laundry (there's just no place to put it away). I'm loosing the larger brain cells that drive the interest to read, or write long prose. (I suspect it's lack of fresh air and sunshine because of the lousey weather.)

Maybe I should throw a party. Lots of whine and cheese here! ;-)

The little shit

Baby, if you haven't noticed yet, it's cold outside. Today has been identified as perhaps the second coldest day of this week. Possibly this month. To that end, our dear LS (little shit, aka CU-3) decided to use her *magic finger* to slide the crucial piece of steel from one side to the other, thus locking her dear parents on one side of the door, while she and CU-4 were snuggly on the other side.

Thanks to her Maman's ingenuity, and Papa's ability to execute good ideas, we all are back on the same side of the door now. CU-3 is a little bit unhappy about this, for many many reasons.

It's midnight and all is well

No snow yet, though the wind is definitely picking up. I'm kind of hoping for a snow day. I haven't had one of those in several years. Regretably, if it comes to fruition, CU-1 and 2 will only be around for part of the day. It's cross-over day.

Speaking of cross-over - I'd like to introduce another blog I spy. I spy is my virtual gallery. A bit of virtual exhibitionism. I'm hoping to post regularly to this site, much like Daily Dose of Imagery but I'm less inclined to learn all the ins and outs of technology to show things off like he does.

Winter, take two

Earlier this week I suggested Spring might be just around the corner. Well, maybe not. Currently, we're under a severe weather warning for snow and snow and a bit more snow just to be sure.

I believe the saying for March was in like a lion, out like a lamb?

We'll see if Mother Nature actually brings her full furry down on us for daring to think that we might be done with the snow gear for another year.

Spring is just around the corner

And so it begins

We've just started our reconstruction process and already it feels like it's slipping away from us financially.

I heard about people's project costs doubling. I'd been warned about extended time lines. What none of these fair weather warners didn't say was that it was self-inflicted.

DH and I went through the contract again. This time with a much more level head. We'd talked pie-in-the-sky when we first opened up the Medussa's box, hoping for the world.

Our contractor is good, fair and honest. That's on the plus side.

Costs of materials keep rising. That's on the negative side.

Our hopes and dreams (but not expectiations) are like a thong. Stuck in the middle.

This morning DH broke Rule #1 (for those of you who don't know or don't choose to remember, rule #1 is NEVER, EVER wake a sleeping woman) to tell me he got an update on the costs of three new windows as per the change request we were looking into. Three grand. I was awake faster then a double-espresso could shake me.

After a few mental explicatives, I started to do the math, knowing how limited our "extras" budget was. Where to cut, what to cut so that it makes a difference. (We've already commited to putting down our own floors in an effort to save some bling and flip it over to the fancy bathtub DH wants, and I've already poo pooed upgrading the hot water tank as a forced economy.)

Oh the joys joys joys of renovations.

Priceless

As posted on PostSecret this week:

I was having a bad day at work last week. I hoped my husband might send me some flowers to cheer me up but I know he’s busy right now. So I called the florist, ordered a bunch of flowers and had them delivered to his office. The card read “give these to your wife, she’s having a bad day.” The florist laughed, and so did my husband.

Uncle, aunt and all the extended family

I'm ready to say uncle.

For years I've been downplayings the challenges of having children. Today I'm 'fessing up saying that four is enough. At least four under the age of 18 and still living at home.

My day started off with CU-1 raising the dead (basically every one else in the house who happened to be sleeping) at 5:30 a.m. That's not too bad for most except I went to bed well after midnight, and CU-3 starts to act up when she's tired, and CU-2 just gets really really cranky.

After coralling and separating the children (the swimmers versus the non-swimmers), I went with the swimmers because it was "Bring a parent to class day". I hope the CUs realized how important it was that 1. I wore a bathing suit (a first in over 10 months), 2. I actually got into the water (I don't like getting cold or wet).

We were lucky and got buses both ways (which reduced the "why don't we have a car, I don't want to walk" conversations). DH was thankful for the extra pair of hands. I kept him busy though, as if he was attached to a bungy cord.

He just gets in the door, and then he's off with CU-2 for a birthday party and a quick groccery pick-up.

While he's off having a few minutes to himself, I'm at home with CU-1, 3 and 4. CU-1 and 3 have found sticks and are doing what kids do with sticks, CU-4 is doing what CU-4s of his age do best.

Me, I started thinking that four is enough.

For today.

Maybe.

Ok, so tell me how you really feel aka potty talk

As you know, we're having some work done on our home. This means that some things are getting displaced, and there's a bit of banging going on.

I thought it was CU-4 and I who would have to deal with the brunt of it all. Not so. There are the catz.

Big Purr has handled the changes the best, hanging out in the bathroom (next to the heater), frosting the towels for us. (It's ever so nice to get out of the shower/bath, to grab a nice, warm, furry towel. Share the love with us Purr. Share the love.)

Papa le chat had a few adjustment problems as well. When the new stairs came in, he wandered around in a big circle. Going down the old stairs and up the new. At least this one found the cat box.

Can't say that for André, aka the harp seal. He's having the hardest time of it all. At an over-the-top, over weight 17 lber, he still manages to waddle around and find the sunny spots. The construction's got him a little confused though. In the last two days, he's refused to go down the new stairs to the boxes at the landing. I figure it's been two days only by the volumenous dump he did in a file box containing project notes!

Thank you for your comments André.

Don't ask if you really don't want to know

The conversation went like this:

"Is this DH?"

"No. He's a work."

"Is this Mrs. DH?"

"Yeesss?"

"This is Claudine from The Sun."

Oh oh. Not again.

"Do you read The Sun?"

"Noooo."

"Would you be interested in subscribing to The Sun for 25 cents a day?"

"Noooo."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I don't like the paper and wouldn't wrap fish in it."


I find our local papers a bit much to take. They've got strong political leanings and each has its own problem as a media from which to gain information about my community. I don't subscribe to either. ;-)

Tasty

Finger lickin' good. Lip smakin'. These are terms I'd never have used to describe ... myself.

Today I discovered that I was both of these. After a significant feed this morning, CU-4 turned away with a very smug and satisified look and smacked those little lips.

Later, while I was pinned down giving CU-4 yet another top-up, CU-3 decided to give my hair a spit shine. Yah. It goes like this:

1. Spit into hand.
2. Whipe genetically lubricated hand into Mama's hair.
3. Repeat until Mama calls Papa for back-up.

Well, I've always wanted to be wanted, my children just give a whole new twist to the definition.

Fatigue

I don't get it.

Before I left on my one year, self-induced exile, I implicity stated I was willing to do work (come into the office, or work from home.) Since then, I've repeated heard nothing from my manager(s), and I've heard through the grape vine that there's been lots of work, but that it keeps getting reassigned to other people. Sooo, what to do without sounding like spoiled grapes?

Well, one thing I'm doing is not going into the office. Out of sight, out of mind. The other thing I'm doing is hanging out at home, thinking about things. It seems that this thinking is hard work. Well, between that and CU-4 and my hanging together just is exausting. I'm finding that, oh, between 2 and 3:30 we tend to nod-off and miss some of the best televion (for example HGTV's I want that), though we have been getting up in just enough time to collect the assortment of siblings.

Perhaps it's just the weather and we're hibernating, or maybe it's my body catching up on all the sleep it missed for the previous four months.

Mother Nature's revenge

After all the warmth and cuddliness of the festive 14th, Mother Nature's coming back with a vengence. Nasty cold is hitting this area, and CU-1 and 2 are in mid-Winter Carnival mode with an outing plan today! CU-3 is warm and cozy at day care and CU-4 and I are hanging out in winter wear at home as J. aka "the gas man" looks at our heating and air return systems to reroute it because of our current state of construction.

On that side of things, we've been told that the tentative date of demolition is Monday! Woo hoo! Here's hoping I've got pictures to post by mid-morning.

Here's to *Friendship Day*

There's a move afoot to try to double-brand this day as Friendship Day (at least that's what Y TV has been dubbing it).

On one hand, I think it's all a bit silly. On the other hand, I think it's brilliant. I'm thinking it's a bit more balanced (though politically correct) approach to celebrating love in it's many forms (and not just those who happen to be coupled on this day).

So here's to you all - Happy Friendship Day. I certainly appreciate having you all as friends.


And a special thank you to PC and Grandma C for checking in today. I appreciated the visits.

Hurray for Grandma's baby bags!

Just a quick note to publicly thank Grandma C and her inspired baby bags. Used on CU-3, CU-4 is now currently enjoying the bag-and-back reactor-type activity that occurs in this item - just like a bag n'bake turkey! Keeps CU-4 nice and warm until done! (For me, that usually means about six to seven hours of sleep, glorious, glorious sleep).

Slow to post, AKA are blogs dead?

I kept telling myself that life really wouldn't change after CU-4's arrival. On one hand I was right, while in the other hand I'm holding a dirty diaper wondering what I've been doing with my time.

For those few who actually read this blog, you'll probably be thinking the same thing. Well, between napping and living the life of Riley, I've well, been napping, and doing a lot of paperwork to get this maternity leave off the ground. I've also been making a couple of dozen papier maché hearts for CU-1 to distribute at school (filled only (read cheap-ed out) Hershey Hugs and Kisses, shuffling my To Do list pile of papers from one side of the house to the other, and folding one half of the house into the other (the later is because construction started in earnest with the front hall closet becoming a large, though very temporary laundry shoot while we await new basement stairs to be put in).

Once Valentine's Day is through, I'll have SO MUCH more free time! ;-) So I might actually find the time to write the stories for the blog to share with everyone. That was the idea behind getting up and out of the house (in minus 13 degree weather no less!) to meet up with Perpetual Chocoholic. The goal, as hammered out in a coffee-drunken stooper last Thursday night, was to get each of us out of our perspective ruts, and to provide mutual support to attend to our more creative pursuits. PC was to work on illustrations, me on writing and research to further more photographic pursuits.

Our first time out the door (and into the local Bridgehead) didn't see much drawing, or planning, but a lot of talking. Though not our original intent, I think we've both found it to be unblocking. PC helped me realize that I really really was trying to talk myself out of putting forward a proposal for solo show. She also helped me see I need to pull that camera out and pursue the visions in my head and get them out onto [photographic] paper.

However, through that two hours of exploration of all things, we started on a discussion about blogging and wondering if it was dying. (Or maybe this discussion was from last Thursday.) In the back of my head, I was wondering if blogs and blogging had seen it's day. I've heard (before maternity leave when I was plugged in to the world much more) that there was newer, better technology that was being pursued. Not really being a definitive techy, and finding that I'm less and less interested in technology as each year passes, I kind of don't care about the changes and am quite satisified with this medium.

We'd discussed how some of the people she'd followed regularly were closing out their blogs. We mused about the life span of our own blogs and whether the time had come to put them to bed. I'm thinking no, this one still serves a purpose. I just need to get off my arse and start writing, as I find that writing keeps me sharper then just having these conversations in my head. They can be pretty one sided. So, during the next 49 weeks of forced time off, I'm hoping to write more, self-publish to here more. Read other blogs more. And respond more. Like PC points out in her studies of illustration, it's an exercise, and some times you have to force yourself to keep going.

Wait no more

After 20+ hours of labour CU-4 finally arrived with flurry and fanfair.

While I have several stories to write about, and debrief, document and mind dump, it seems that they're stuck in a place yet to be reached. It's not because of time, or interest, or the inability to sit for short period of time on hard surfaces. It's more related to the fact that I've been running around trying to get paperwork for the maternity leave addressed so that the money flow doesn't stop, and then there's the 40 hour visit to the local Children's hospital to address CU-4's on going jaundice issue, that may now be cleared up. (We're now waiting for UTI tests to come back, and schedule new blood tests and MD appointments for Monday.)

Can't say my life is ordinary now can I?

Still waiting, and all that

I wish I knew what I was doing. After three children, one would kind of think so, though that apparently is not the case here. I'm having a few symptoms that send me running to the Internet, which in turn, inflames my worries of delivery. My bad!

Tomorrow's back to the MD for the weekly check-up. I'm hoping she'll say enough to the pain and suffering (DH's ;-) having to listen to my perpetual whining and complaining) and send me to the hospital post haste, though part of me does not believe this will happen.

Oh well.

On a happier note, I heard that there are six weekends of winter left. How's that grab you?

Deal or no deal?

Oh boy, I just did something very scary. I sent my D-XH requesting the presence of CU-1 and 2 at the birth of CU-4 if it is on his time (thanks to DH's interpretation of the arbitration agreement. We were looking up information on another matter ...).

I do appreciate DH's support on this matter. He knows how important it is to me to have family near. I'm almost speachless and now worried about this twist as I can come up with extra scenarios to how this thing is going to roll out, or not roll out ...

Ok. So the request is out to the universe. And the universe says deal or no deal?

Last posting of the year

Well, where to start but at the ending.

It's been another year passing and I don't have a lot of insight into where everything fits into place.

I don't even have anything really thought provoking, inspiring, or maddening to close off this year.

DH is in bed with the cold I'd been manifesting over the last two weeks. He's more like a ghost, drifting in and out of the bedroom. You never know when he'll appear.

CU-1 and CU-2 are off to the DXH for 12 days. It was a tearful goodbye for all of us. CU-1 didn't start to loose it until CU-3 sunk against a wall and started to pout.

We've all got something to look forward to in 2007. We're hoping for the safe and healthy arrival of CU-4. We're hoping for quick, clean and inspired space from the renovation we've signed off on. We're hoping for health and enough of everything for people we love, influence, or brush up against. We're hoping for new beginings for those who need to change direction in his or her life. And we hope for continuity of the same for those who are right where they want to be.

I'd like to close out this year with a special thanks to a few of you who have been pivotal in acting as a spotter through some of the heavier parts of 2006. PC, Grandma C, and Motsa, without getting overly sentimental, thanks for caring for me. Without friends like you, my enemies would have had a bigger snack. I hope I can do and be the same for you in 2007.

;-)

It seemed like such a good idea at the time

Could this be the catch phrase for 2007?

Quand le pére noel vien nous visiter

What a surprise this morning. Not only did Pere Noel come over night, he made a personal visit this morning.

CU-2 was out playing with one of her toys, and saw him coming up the street! With a face splitting grin, she invited him in.

Aren't we lucky!

And CU-2s direct response to greeting Pere Noel? He smells good.

I saw Santa's dry cleaning!

Must have been getting ready for his flight tomorrow night. I heard from Transport Canada that he passed his medical examination and got his pilot license updated.

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!

I am gobsmacked.

I am just gobsmacked.

Within a span of 10 minutes I just spent a ton o'money, got a stollen item returned, and found my Christmas cards!

At 10 minutes to five, I found an article on the back pages of our local community paper that talked about a gymnastics club that was in our neighborhood. IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD! This one would allow CU-2 to climb and jump and learn how to use equipment that she wanted to learn how to use. The price isn't light, but, well, that's what they make credit cards for now, isn't it.

Right after, I'd no more then hung up the phone then I got a call from a food back in our neighborhood. CU-1's back pack had been turned in and a guy was offering to deliver it ...

Right after that, DH called to say we got 90% funding for our construction project and we were GREEN GREEN GREEN to go.

I'm gobsmacked, thrilled and so thankful to God for these blessings.

I figured the tide must have started to turn when we got our Christmas care package from out West, followed by Aunt J's from the warmer parts of North America.

Praises be.

Update: Just as I was posting this entry, CRASH! BOOM! landslide of stuff behind me. In that landslide, on top of everything that got turned over, are the Christmas cards I'd been thinking about and looking for and had planned to pull out a full search on over this weekend.

Thank you spirits of the season. You've blessed this house.

Winter poem

Winter, a poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre

"SHIT its Cold!"