Get down. Get back up again.

I had a few technical difficulties this week. With the cold snap I was starting to think that maybe I could get a jump on the Spring cleaning considering that I felt virtually trapped in my home. I decided to clean up some of the files on my computer and erradicated the cookie that remembered my password to Blogger. (Apparently the gnomes in my head decided to do some Spring cleaning of their own which is resulting in me forgetting most of my passwords.)

To add to the mayhem, my email address wasn't working either so I couldn't retrieve my password to the blog OR get any emails since Thursday last week. Now that all that's been sad, I'm back and hope to update you all with a few more family stories shortly.

A few of my favorite things

• My children
• Thursday night coffee date with Perpetual Chocoholic
• Sunday afternoon naps
• My homemade pizza
• Hearing CU1's Daffy Duck laugh
• Watching CU3 grow
• Hearing DH giggle
  
• Seeing CU2 feel pure joy
• My Lee Valley catalog
• Playing the "If I had a million dollars" game
• Summer sidewalk graffiti
• "mongo" shopping in the hood
• Connecting with the CUs
• Working together, on projects with DH
• Making popcycles for a receptive group

It's the start of a good week.

D'oh

I'm behind, so very behind. I still have "write Christmas thank you notes" on my list of things to do. That entry is second only to "write family Christmas letter".

Lately I've encountered a lot of regretable changes: rapid weight gain, loosing days, psoriasis flares, really stupid administrative errors (like typos that I usually see, transposing words (FAX for FAQ), loosing a day or days [misinterpreting calendars]). I'm wondering if I'm in the early stages of burn out ... who knows, I don't really have the time to appreciate the decline.

To this end, I just realized that I had received a gift of artwork from a chocolate loving friend of mine. My intention was to issue a Valentine's wish of my own on a personal level. That doesn't seem to be in the cards this year. So, to all of you reading - it's not for lack of trying, and in this case I'm hoping the thought does count as I think of each of you while I prepare this post.

Happy chocolates day!

Lost in translation

Last week I had to take a mandatory harassment prevent course. One of the examples we studied was about some one swearing in the work place. Does this constitute harassment?

Well, the discussion kind of slopped over into the break time. I brought up a discussion I had with CU2 a few months back. She asked me if what we commonly refer to as "the F word" was a bad word. I explained that in French, no, in English yes and that she couldn't think about using that word before she's 13. At 13 we'll discuss.

Which leads me to why she was confused. You see, at Christmas I gave CU1 a phoque en peluche.

Now there's a lesson in making something innocent sound, well, not very innocent!

Adventurers by day, slugs by night

That kind of sums up what we were like on that Saturday and Sunday on our wild weekend away.

Saturday we'd awakened to warm, but overcast weather. Not a bad start to the day we thought. We hiked down the hill and found DH a farmer's breakfast (ham, eggs, toast and tatters). Nothing to write home about. Not even worth a comment except that it set the tone of the day in food.

We decided to try our hand at shopping at what was self-identified as the largest shopping centre East of the West Edmonton Mall. DH was up for it and my knowledge of the bus routes held true, even 13 years later.

We crawled the mall for most of the day, dropping our meagre bucks on a fantabulous sale at Old Navy.

That night DH thought about going out for a really nice dinner some where. So we dressed up in our cleaner clothes and walked the brightly light strip of terraces that were loaded down with ice bars (walls of ice from which liquor was served on an open terrace) waiting for students and winter festival patrons to come by and drink their wares as they trucked up and down the street.

DH was on the prowl for some fresh seafood and was inticed by one restaurant's five-course meal.

We got a nice window seat next to two couples from the Carolina's (North and South were represented), and another couple who were from Montreal. (I know this because, instead of gazing into each others eyes romantically, as one would think a honeymooning couple would do, DH decided that he'd had enough conversation with me and that he'd strike one up with the neighbors!)

To summarize quickly, DH enjoyed his dinner. I found it discouraging. (It was like I had tapped an oil deralick :-(.

The regretably meal was topped off with a chat with the hostess stationed outside to encourage dinners to come in. She think she was surprised that I'd actually tell her of my disappointment instead of mumbling my thanks for a nice meal.

We wandered to the hotel, finding the famous imbedded canon ball along the way, and finished the night off with some jazz in the bar in our hotel and then some Overhaulin' and Myth Busters.

Sunday we felt a bit guilty for not seeing the sites so we moved around the historic part of the city looking at as much free stuff as we could, which meant a lot of restaurant menus. We also did a walk around the old city and ducked into the tourist traps looking and touching their wears (trying on some goofy hats, poking fun at what constitutes SWAG for this part of the world and compared it with our each other's other traveling experiences).

The wind was picking up, the weather was dropping so we quickly passed through the bits I thought we should see and returned to the hotel to change our socks and head out for our last supper. (Which WAS terrific. I recommend Le cote de frére!)

We returned to the hotel room. I to pack, deal with a plugged toilet, and then deal with an exploded luggage, DH to put his feet up and watch the sports channels.

Monday morning it was gross out. Gross isn't the word. Snowy, windy. Heavy heavy winds. So strong that it helped me stay upright on the steep hills. We ducked out for a last breakfast and a tour through a corner groccer (I have a fear of being stuck on the train without provisions) and for a hunt for duct tape with which to seal our exploded luggage (it was just a little mint, waffer thin).

With grocceries in hand, and, luckily some packing tape found completely by accident, we made our way back down the hill and onto the train to reverse our journey.

I think I've had enough of that type of vacation to last me a couple more years.

Adventures - day 1

We arrived in the historic old city on time. The weather was ... WARM?! Unusual for the best of times.

As we walked the train station platform, memories flooded back. I'd walked that platform so many times ... with some one else waiting for me at the end of the platform. That was history, this was now.

We exited the station and I quickly got my bearings. We headed for them thar hills and made our way up steep inclines that mountain goats would be proud to roam.

I played Julie, the cruise director, as I pointed out various sites of no real particular interest, recounting various bits of juicy sorted stories pulled out of my memory.

In no time we found the hotel we'd call home base for the weekend. We checked in, dumped our stuff and were out the door as fast as we could each exit the bathroom. We tramped up to the boardwalk near the more famous lodging and looked at some of the touristy sites such as the funicular and the ice slide choosing to by pass these items for a leisurely walk up the 312 stairs to the park and plains above. We emptied out to the park and tramped our way across snow-drifted paths. I chatted about my experiences of living there for 10 months filling the air with my history, leaving something of myself behind like the former inhabitants and defenders of this city had done too.

We passed through the makings of the winter carnival festival grounds (good thing to because we'd have had to pay $16 each to enter 24 hours later!)

We tramped to the main street and window shopped dinner menus as we walked back to the hotel to change damp socks and headed out again to walk the streets. We found a tiny tiny, well-known hole in the wall café and had supper before we did our rounds of the sites again before returning to our hotel to watch TLC.

Side bar note

Looks like Blogger's been doing some editing and I've lost my dotted backdrop that I'd liked so much. I'm going to try a couple different templates today and possibly unttil I see the return of the dots template as I knew and loved it. In the mean time, I hope I don't burn out too many retinas with my various attempts to capture a feeling for the page.

On the road again

We took the train to our honeymoon destination.

We'd got to the station in good time. It'd been over five years since I'd taken this mode of transportation and about the same since I'd been in the station. We spent our time milling about, I remarking how things have more stayed the same then changed. (That seemed to be a predominant theme that weekend.)

I thought I was being a smarty pants waiting on what I remembered to be the departure side of the station when DH, getting anxious that we were getting close to the departure time, asked one of the station personnel what time they were putting out the sign for our stop-over desination. The guy pointed to the very very long line that I'd mistaken for passengers departing for another desination. D'oh!

So we hustled to the back of this very very long line, all the while, me playing Julie the cruise director explaining what could be expected from this trip (for example, it'd be next to impossible to find two seats together).

We climbed aboard and low and behold we DID find two seats together. While etting settled in and regailing our good fortune, a well coiffed woman came up to our seats and said we were mistaken and were sitting in HER seats! What? My mind had moved into vacation mode by that point and really didn't get what she was saying. Apparently during my five year absence, delivery of train service had changed and they were now assigning seats! Woo hoo! That meant DH and I DID have a seat together.

We found those, settled in with our magazines and books (I think I took a nap) and had a comfortable and uneventful ride to the mid-way point at which time we got out, went above ground for an hour and prowled the streets of the city as much as our already over-stuffed luggage would allow us. Boy did we look like tourists ... slightly dishevelled and unstylish in bland winter gear in comparison to the above ground earth walkers!

We got some street food (roasted chestnuts!) and returned to below ground to catch the train for the final leg of our destination. We were running a wee bit slow and DH was getting antsy about missing the train. Having left his watch at home for this trip, I continued in the roll of Julie, advising him from time-to-time how much prowling time we had, hoping to calm his nerves as I ducked into a shop to search for provisions (after all we were travelling in a sardine can in the middle of winter with a specific supply of food stuffs - I didn't want to get caught in between switches for a few hours while getting the stomach grumblies).

We rolled onto the train with about 10 minutes to spare and settled in for another few hours of trip. Again, it was fairly uneventful. The universe and everything seemed to be cooperating with us, open its arms saying that it was ok to come after all.

Dirty week

I just got back from my honeymoon. Some people called it my dirty weekend. Little did they know how self-filling that prophecy was! As the previous weekend the washer when kablooie followed by two out of five family units going kablooie too. Going away with luggage filled with dirty laundry wasn’t quiet what I expected!

The Thursday night before, it was very much touch and go here as we tried to decide if the universe was actually trying to tell me/us something. DH and CU3 both were very sick during the week though started perking up Thursday evening. As I watched the clock tick closer and closer to our cut-off cancellation time, the pessimist in me kicked in big time thinking that I’d never get to go.

CU1 and 2 were off to their father’s. CU3 was the big question mark. Would our kind neighbors want to take in a possible source of contamination? Good Neighbor (GN) 1 stopped in to take a look at CU3 and though thing’s ‘d be ok. GN 2 came by for a look-see shortly there after and cleared the way. Exchange of goods occurred. Frantic packing occurred. The regular coffee date with PC occurred. (Ah, finally an event of civility in the course of a rough week!)

So off we went on our long weekend together. Our honeymoon. I only had to marry the guy twice and wait three years to get away. As the mothership has pointed out, I seem to have it all in the wrong order.

Same old same old

The start to the week started off pretty awful.

• CU1 had broken his glasses in two (irrepairable damage).
  
• The washing machine expired (not good when CU3s on cotton diapers).
  
• I forgot my wallet at home.
  
• CU3 is having unexplainable mouth pains for which I have to schedule an emergency dental appointment to fill in the black-hole of information that's left there from "co-parenting".
  
• There's a Federal election.
  
• Did I mention we have no washing machine and there are FIVE people in the house?
• A zillion complications at work which have to be cancelled and rescheduled because of dental emergencies.

Midweek though, it's improving.

• CU1's glasses are under warranty and have been replaced in record time.
• Thank small gods for credit cards - we've purchased a washer which will be delivered by the end of the week.
• I found/collected my wallet and it's with me again, allowing me access to all of 16 cents I currently have available to me.
• I met with the dentist who filled me in on what's been going on in CUs mouth for the last two months and what can be done to help him not have mouth pains.
• The Federal election happened, and it's a minority government. See you at the polls in 2008!
• Did I mention we got a new washer coming in by weeks end? (So it looks like I might not be having a dirty weekend after all.)
• I've rescheduled some of the zillion and one things ... February's looking to be a pretty hairy month.

Weeee.

Happy

The first two years of a child's life are so filled with wonder. They are such sponges. Language is the most interesting acquisition. Amongst the assorted words that CU3 has learned, shoes, all done, up, pomme, paper is the happy. What a word to learn. Happy. Heureux. A simple word. To be one of the first ten words is such an accomplishment.

For better or for worse

It's been a hell of a week.

CU3 is such a generous child that she decided to share her cold with me. Eight days later, we both are sharing a lot of quality time together, coughing, wheezing and hucking a few clams, usually between the hours of 1 and 4 in the morning.

My DH has been a dream through it all. Every morning he reports on the "running of the stairs" and how he's tended to the sick and unhappy, tirelessly and for little reward.

It looks like some of that might actually be rubbing off on CU1 as, exhausted, I decided to take advantage of CU3s nap-time and catch a few zzz while CU1 and 2 were off playing relatively quietly. CU3 was under. Snowplows shaking the house as they passed didn't wake her. I was lying near by. CU1 quietly made his way into the room. I peered conspiratorially beneath my covers, as the sandman began to overtake me. CU1 was rummaging through his sister's toys. Trying to muster strength for an intervention, I saw him take out ... a duck.

A duck?

He tucks the duck in with the sleeping baby. Then makes his way around to me and tucks a lovey in with me. My tender boy. You make me so proud.

Voting in Canada

Dear friends and readers, as we lead up to another Federal election in less then a week, it reminds me of a t-shirt that I saw my uncle wear, oh so many years ago:

Friends don't let friends vote Republican.

Mind you, with the nutty weather we have been having (I'm suspecting the locuses are on their way), I wouldn't be surprised if hell begins to freeze and life becomes miserable for four years on Monday.

Sour grapes

In my opinion, one of the top five peevish things that bugs me are adults who act horribly, especially like two years old, when they don't get their way.

Some one's grandma named it correctly: sour grapes. As parents of children, we are frequently bombarded with messages about how to raise our children. This particular message seems to have fallen on deaf ears with a particular "parent" I know.

Look buster, life isn't equal. There may be some rough justice in this world. If so, it's not been doled out in my time yet, that doesn't mean it ain't comin'. So, in the mean time, when some one climbs in YOUR box, cowboy up, act your age, and be a better roll model for your children.

Family lore

Subtitled: "My kids will be in therapy for years".

Oh yah. My poor, poor children. Not only do they have to deal multiple households, multiple rules, multiple father figures, they have to deal with ME, and well DH! WE the "original" parents.

DH has a quirky side that really to know is to love. He's the kind of guy I wish I had as a dad. On the face of it, he seems a bit gruff, a bit scary to little things - kind of like Santa, or clowns. He's kind of round, and loyal, loyal, loyal ... like a Labradoodle. He's quiet, for the most part, and has a sly sense of humor that sneaks out and grabs you, usually at the most unexpected times. He's a fantastic storyteller. When he's on a roll, get as many free breaths in as you can 'cause you'll be asking for oxygen there after. He'll have you on the floor with your legs in the air bicycling for breath.

Which brings me to why there's an advert for Catmilk on this site.

One morning, CU2 was acting a little cross, crotchety, ornery, so DH thought this was the perfect opportunity to give her the gears.

DH: CU2, can you please feed the animals (bad cats and bad dog)? Oh, and while you're at it, milk the cats.
CU: What?
DH: Can you please feed the animals and when you're done, before school, milk the cats.
CU: What? You can't milk cats.
DH: Sure you can. Where do you think milk comes from?
CU: Cows?
DH to me as I walk into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from my eyes: What do you say?
Me: Huh?
DH to me: Where does milk come from?
Me: Depends on the animal.
DH to CU: See. So, please milk the cats before you go to school.
CU: They're boy cats!
DH: Oh, that may take a little longer. Maybe you can do it after school.

...

A couple of days later at breakfast time ...

CU2: Can I have some milk?
DH: I dunno can you?
CU2: Can I please have some milk?
DH: What kind? [BC1 (bad cat 1) walks through the kitchen)] Catmilk?
CU2: What?
DH: Do you want some catmilk?
CU2: No.

So the whole catmilk thing went away until just over the Christmas holidays when CUs 1 and 2 were away and DH had more time on his hands then ways he could entertain himself. He decided it would be a good idea that we packed up the rest of the family and went out to the local mall to see what was going on on Boxing Day. I'm always up for an adventure in odd things, and seeing that I've never done any of the crazy shopping on Boxing Day I said I was game. We went, we saw nothing out of the ordinary, but we were able to pick-up some Catmilk for CU2 and her breakfast cereal ... proving that yes Virginia there is a Santa Clause ... and there is such a thing as catmilk.

Original parenting

Today, while speaking with an aquantance, we were discussing parenting problem solving ideas. At the end of the conversation, this person turned to me and said "My you and your DH are original parents."

Um ....

What the hell??

I think it was meant to be a complement and a bit of recognition to our, er, ahem, unique style and approach to parenting.

I think the description is growing on me ... I think I like it.

CU gets Lucky

Thursday's are usually a rough day around our household. We're either preparing for an influx or an outflow of CUs. I have to say I always prefer the influx preparations. For me, it's like Christmas every other week as "my presents" come home.

This week, though is an outbound week. After two weeks of normalcy and ordinariness as a family unit, CUs 1 and 2 are preparing to say their goodbyes for a week and re-enter the stupid, rotating world not of their making. (Excuse me while I go brush my teeth for writing the S-word. It's a newer house rule that I came up with because CU3 was using it a bit too often and in a manner not becoming. So, I've fallen into my own trap!)

...

Ok. So, gentle readers, to satisfy any outstanding curiosity, I recommend Baby's Own over any liquid anti-bacterial hand soap. Much much cleaner taste and fewer residues!

But I digress further from the main story, which is the chaos that frequents this house. For the most part Thursdays are like any other day, except punishment is a lot lighter. In this case though, CU1 looses out for something CU3 - the latest edition to the family unit - did. CU3 was left to reckless abandon tonight while I directed CU1 and 2 through their paces (math and language tests Friday morning). I had paused to do some redirect with CU2 when CU1 starts screaming "bad baby" over and over and over again. As this is a semi-regular occurrence within these four walls, I have kind of learned to ignore it, unless accompanied by the smell of singed hair or some other odoriferous calamity.

In this case, curiosity got the better of me - "bad baby" had got Lucky. Lucky Charms that is. Mr. Charms had spread his wealth of magic deliciousness across the kitchen floor and was being carefully picked over by both "bad baby" (BB) and "bad dog". It didn't help that BC 1 and 2 (bad cats 1 and 2) were making matters worse by batting petrified, space-ready pink hearts, green clovers, stars, horse shoes, and whatever nonsense they now stuff in the box across the floor.

Hey baby! Would you like your milk with that?

bad hair days and dresses stuck in tights

I've been walking around, for a couple of weeks now, maybe longer, feeling angry, grouchy, brittle. Wintertime is a period of me usually of hibernation, contemplation and a lot of self-work. And small gawds know (any any one who has seen me recently) knows that I could an Extreme Makeover!

The New Year ended and started with a "poof" - kind of like something one would see on Bugs Bunny after one of Wiley E. Coyote's failed stunts. I keep telling myself that that's ok, but the reality is that I'm not ok with it. I want 2006 to be different, more joyful, more joy filled. Maybe it's my realizing that this year, this winter is a bit different, as I start to sever long-term relationships and close the door on life changing events that initiated a historic chain of actions that lead me to the path I'm walking today.

January 2000 was a very troubling, actually horrible time in my life, one that I shall never, ever repeat. By the first of April, I was starting a new life that was more thrust upon me, though a welcome relief at that point, as I tried to battle something that was bigger than me, that was out side of me, that really was and wasn't about me.

The impact and outcome has been far far ranging resulting in groups and regrouping of entities into what now are more solid units. (CUs, I'm so sorry this happened.)

I think I'm having troubles realizing that there is an end to this part of my journey.

I'm feeling lost, a drift. The only way to provide a sufficient comparison to some one who hasn't experienced it is that it's like when you loose your job. Part of you gets left behind, willingly or less willingly.

So much of one's identity is attached to a job, a place, or a relationship that to shift it, unexpectedly is to jar something loose. And there it rattles around until it something snags it.

As this piece gets fitted in, maybe the Universe is saying that now is the time to take the steps to the rest of my life and further identify myself: a mother, a sister, a daughter, a creative problem solver, a friend, a schooled person, a reader, a fat chick, an accidental gardener, a Jill-of-all-trades, a wannabe photographer... what's next?

January 2006

Oh, this year is not getting off to a good start, from the writing perspective. Part of it is that there are just so many thank yous to write, as so many people have been so generous this Holiday season, part of it has just been a feeling of burnout. Perhpas it's the after season burnout or let down. Perhaps it's a winter light issue. My creativity has taken a wee bit of a hit - showed up in the things I didn't do with the CUs during their week off. All that said and done, everyone begins the regular grind tomorrow. All CUs return to their perspective schools, and all parental units, if they've not been working through, get the joy of returning to the chaos they left behind.

On the home front, I've got more pictures up in the photogallery - I'm hoping to do a more simple grouping to follow this year - by month. Newer pictures first. I'm hoping a few pictures will hold you until their stories can be told.

2006 resolutions

It's the 'twix and 'tween time as the end of the year draws to a close. I am one of the incredibly fortunate to have the day off from my regular duties of paid labour. I'm home with CU3 this week. CU1 and 2 will be joining us next week for another week of R&R.

The house is currently quiet. CU3 struggling to stay awake in case I do something more exciting then vacuum up the Cherrio/dog/cat food breakfast concoction she created for this morning's snack.

We have a smattering of presents still under the tree as they wait for our New Years Eve party when we're all back together. As DH's birthday has also been saved for the end of the year, we're going to make it an enormous birthday party where every one gets presents.

I took a walk this morning with CU3. It was pleasant, a bit nippy, but that is to be expected at this time of year, and for the next few months. I took my little digital camera with me as I used to kick myself about not capturing a feeling, a picture, a this or that when I was using only regular film stock. The digital medium allows me to take more chances and make more mistakes all for the cost of a couple of batteries. Not a bad deal I would say.

The walk allowed me time alone with my thoughts, as CU3 is not a talkative child. I've been walking backwards through 2005. It's been like walking through an antique store of memories, picking up this curio and that memory. Nothing I'd want to buy or take home with me, but nice to know that they're there.

One sub-theme that's present is my unmistakable approach to life. I've been told it's like no other and I'm just starting to believe that this may be the case. This December I've had close friends, acquaintances and family give me a two-minute roast, recounting something that I've done that has given them some laugh or relieved some level of grief. There's the story of me at 13 bullying the Mothership to our small town's best (read only) hotel in the middle of a nasty winter to sit in their hot tub for a couple of hours. Then there's a story from a relative who told his postmaster how I would mail packages in summer with Christmas packing tape, just to zing the postal system! I do these things without thinking. Maybe that's my problem. I don't take a conscious approach to my creativity. I know that I certainly have a problem with sustaining a long-term project, preferring to attempt something that has almost instantaneous results.

This brings me to one of the Christmas presents I received this year: Letters to a Young Artist: Building a Life in Art by Julia Cameron. Ms. Cameron is widely renown as a bestselling author of The Artist's Way a well-thumbed manual on doing art and making time for everything else. I must confess I haven't read her other work(s), though I know of them and often direct my disillusioned, creatively stuck friends. I'm wondering if 2006 is a year that I am to heed the call for closer examination??