Rosebud and Papoosie Girl

Summer lovin' and the forgettin' is easy

2009-06-26T11:33:00.003-04:00

Here is a partial list of some of the things I have done in the recent months:

Got halfway to my Mom's house (about a 30-40 minute drive) without bottles
Have twice forgot the diaper bag at home
Once forgot extra outfits in the diaper bag
Have turned on and walked away for the iron and found it (THANK GOD) had auto shut-off hours later
Ditto with boiling water for the formula...except I was darn close to ruining the pot

Is any of this normal for life with three kids? These are things I have never done in the past, with the exception of the pot. I am still organized, I still pack up the night before big days out, still lay out clothes, still, still, still I am finding myself lost in another world where I simply can't keep up sometimes.

Sweetpea is the missing link in our family, the part of the puzzle we didn't even know we needed. I am busier than ever and that is to say she is a tremendously easy baby. She generally hangs out all day with me with very little fuss. She sleeps through the night just occasionally getting up for her pacifier or sometimes milk.

I guess this being forgetful is to be expected, I am mentally juggling the lives and needs of three young children, something is bound to fall off the edge. I find it unnerving though the way my mind is betraying me so blatantly.

Today is the last day of school and we are looking forward to lots of summer fun. My blogging days seem to be getting farther and farther behind me, yet I cannot give it up entirely. I still read many blogs and I still get something from these honest, genuine, peaks into the lives of other families.

I hope everyone has a wonderful summer and the livin' is easy for all.

Cute is the new black

2009-03-01T23:48:00.005-05:00

So maybe that is a stretch, but really who can argue with this much cuteness. The baby is not smiling as some family members are convinced, she was on the verge of crying; that outfit did not make her happy and did not get out of the house. A dear friend indulged my lust for all things matching and visually harmonious and bought these for the girls. I know my days are numbered as Papoosie Girl gets older, but for now I am going to milk this for as long as I can.

Today was Sweetpea's 40 day blessing which is a tradition in the Greek Orthodox Church. There were four babies in total and one of the other girls had the same name as her which made all of us stop and stare a bit. She has been blessed and it makes me rest a little easier even though I never realized it might have been bothering me. Her wee soul is protected by something larger than myself, she is welcomed into a larger family.

I hope and pray her life is as blessed as mine.

Thanks says Sweetpea

2009-02-27T14:50:00.003-05:00

Nana has given baby A her official nickname and it is Sweetpea. I just wanted to say thanks for all the kind wishes, Sweetpea is grand and tops the scales at 9 lbs, 1oz at 4 weeks. She is eating and sleeping like a trooper or like a third child who knows her place. She is the sweetest little bug and I am smitten.

I am still recovering, I know how exciting! My incision is about another 2-3 weeks away from being completely healed. I am sick of saying I am still sick so consider it done, I am on the mend and hopefully this will the last we all hear of it.

I wish I had the energy to say how my heart swells to near bursting every time I stroke her tiny head, or how I look up in startled amazement when I see my three girls lumped together on the sofa, but I can't. Because when I do I simply have no words. These gifts I have been given humble and astonish me every day.

And then there were three

2009-02-03T20:51:00.002-05:00

A week ago Sunday our sweet little girl arrived early (even earlier than we planned for) when my water broke and found us in a hurry to get to the hospital.

Our newest daughter weighed 6lbs 7.5 ozs and was born at 10:19am. She is healthy and fine and oh so cute. I on the the other hand am still struggling with my incision and hopefully will be healed up soon. In the meantime, Nana is taking good care of all of us.

As for her name...remember that name I loved that started with an "A"? Well that is her name and her middle name is Grace, for no other reason than while I was on the operating table for way too long it just kind of came to me.

I promise more details and more photos soon.

Ahead of the curve

2009-01-13T17:23:00.003-05:00

I just had to say that the name chosen by Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner for their new daughter, Seraphina was - and still is a name I like! Every single person I have mentioned it to over the last month or so hated it, a lot. So there, I really am a trend setter I suppose. I never mentioned it here because the likelihood of me actually using it was so slim. I still love it though and I am telling you it is nudging up a bit for me now. I am not ashamed to say that the inspiration was the Barbie movie, The Princess and the Pauper the girls have, there are two great names, Anneliese and Serafina (who incidentally is a cat), in the movie.

I should also mention that Hubby is standing strong on Melina and his second favourite choice is now Zoe. I am holding on Amelia Jane, but I am still so confused as to why the name I choose, Melina, just doesn't do it for me anymore.

I had an ultrasound last week and when the technician rolled over the baby she was looking right at us, it was so freaky and the look was like, "what do you want?" I get the impression she might be scrappy and now I am wondering if any of the names we are considering are right.

With less than three weeks to go and feeling about 12 months pregnant and oh so tired I am not sure we will have a name by delivery. I think we might just have to have a look at her and make up our minds then.

I am a getting extremely nervous now and the fact that I have done it before doesn't seem to bring me much comfort. I still can't figure out how I am going to juggle our new family of five. I promise to post once this little girl makes her arrival (and name) known.

The name game

2008-12-27T14:00:00.000-05:00

Who knew I could post so frequently? With the baby fast approaching (and I say that with great trepidation as Papoosie Girl arrived four weeks early) we need to come up with a name. Since all of you are so gifted in spotting the bad ones and overflowing with good ones I am putting this out there for one and all to help. Despite a big show of getting the books out and Papoosie Girl enjoying reading them we have not had an earnest name discussion.

My last name is Greek, not too long and ends with an "S" and both my girls have fairly classic, feminine names ending in an "A" one is a bit more common and one is not. Both however, are pretty and girly and you would not have to guess their gender say on a class list. I am leaning so strongly towards Amelia now I even refer to the baby in my head by that name. Other names we (ok mostly me) have come up are: Melina, Makena, Olivia. There is also the fact that both my girls names have a Greek meaning and I would like to stick with that. Amelia, Melina and Olivia have Greek meanings, Makena is a town on Maui we visited and I just like how it sounds.

I am thinking of Jane for a middle name for a girl no matter what the first name is, it was my great grandmothers name and I just like it. This has not been met with any kind of approval as of yet mind you. Other than that we have no ideas for middle names and I am not sure we want to go the family route since we didn't do that before, except for Papoosie Girl who has my maiden name as a middle name (and it is now an up-and-coming first name) and it was in honour of my Dad. Rosebud's middle name was just a name I liked.

Here is the fun part, we know it is a girl! After a very dramatic Christmas Eve trip to Labour & Delivery for assessment with what we now know was a kidney stone and a trip back Christmas Day for four hours for an ultrasound and follow-up - we found out it is indeed another daughter. I can't say I am surprised, but officially knowing just makes it all the more exciting.

So I am asking for suggestions, anything at all really. I would say it is fairly certain we will go with a name ending in an "A" since I like how they all sound together, but you never know. If the right name comes along it is the right name. I hope we will know it when we hear it.

I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays. Mine have been a bit strange, but we have salvaged what we could and with the help of our family were able to celebrate and be thankful for a healthy baby girl on her way.

A nice little update

2008-12-06T09:36:00.004-05:00

Hello one and all. Or more likely one at this point in my sketchy blogging career. I know it has been several months...here are some random updates.

I am still pregnant, I am about 8 weeks away from delivering by a scheduled cesarean, based on the fact that Rosebud was breech and resulted in a cesarean. My doctor feels strongly I should just go ahead with another one. I had, actually still have, mixed feelings about it all and really don't want to go through the surgery again, but the doctor feels really strongly about. Some of the doctors in the clinic say that if I go into labour before my scheduled date and all is well, I can certainly go ahead and try a natural delivery. The problem is when they all start talking risk factors and the likelihood of complications I get all panicky. When one of the main complications is death it does that to a girl.

Still on the medical front I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes and right now I am still in the phase of keeping track of my sugar levels for now. I am not on insulin as of yet, and hopefully won't have to, but as of right now I am having a hard time keeping my levels, well level. The diet I am following is not too bad and the biggest problem I am having is eating as much as they say to eat. Usually at the end of the day I am way behind, I do alright with the meals, but I can never manage to get in the snacks. I go back to the clinic this week so I am sure they will have lots of advice on where this is going.

To be honest I am just tired now. The pregnancy has finally caught up with me these last few weeks and at nearly 32 weeks I am feeling it. Up until now I have pretty much been operating as usual, now I am finding myself out of energy by noon. With Christmas fast approaching it is getting harder and harder to keep up.

Aside from all that I do feel pretty good for a tired, old pregnant lady. I have only gained two pounds and even though I still have some shopping to do I am pretty organized. It helps that we are not entertaining at all at our house this year. We will be fed and entertained from Christmas Eve to Boxing Day at our families, which takes a huge burden off of me. Even stranger this year was the canceling of several of our long-standing events. We have been able to add in some spontaneous fun these past few weekends with some of the free days.

I do love the holidays and I am starting to get really excited and so are the girls. This will be our last Christmas just the four of us and I am trying to soak it all in. Try as I might I cannot imagine the new baby in our mix yet, I realize that sounds a bit bad and I don't mean it that way. It is just that every time I try to imagine us as five, with a little baby in tow I just come up blank. As this baby kicks me as I write this I know that very soon this will all make sense.

This may or may not be pregnancy related, but this morning I burned ground beef. Exciting right? I mean I am not a five-star chef or anything, but I can usually handle browning some ground beef and sauteing veggies to make a big batch of sauce. I went ahead and picked out the really burned parts and made the sauce anyway. Now I wonder if that was a good idea, dinner time will tell.

I wish all of you a wonderful holiday however you celebrate. I have everything I want, other than maybe a few more hours in the day. I have really cut myself some slack this year and it feels great, while at the same time a bit drafty if that makes sense. I plan to fit some baking in this weekend and we are taking the girls to see some Christmas windows downtown.

I will be in touch hopefully once more before the baby arrives and if not I promise to let everyone know when the big moment happens.

Happy Holidays to all.

True story

2008-09-10T11:32:00.004-04:00

Yesterday the girls and I were walking through Zeller$. We came to the ladies lingerie section where there were rows and rows of colourful bras hanging up.

Rosebud: Papoosie Girl, when you grow up and your boobies grow which one will you pick?
Papoosie Girl: (slightly dejected) When I grow up I won't have any taste.
Me: What? Why won't you have any taste when you grow up?
Papoosie Girl: (glancing my way) Look at you Mom you are all plain and stuff, I just figure you lose your taste for cool clothes when you grow up.

Note: I was wearing a solid brown Tommy long sleeved top with jeans and Sketchers. My bra and undies (which she saw me put on) sadly are of of the solid variety as well, noting that the undies are maternity undies in blue at least.)

Me: I have taste. I just wear more simple patterns and colours than you like.

Papoosie Girl: (not really convinced and grinning) OK Mom I guess you do have some taste.

Cut to this morning where I put on a navy and light blue rugby style maternity top she hasn't seen before...

Papoosie Girl: That top is nice Mom (I tell her it was Auntie Katrina's) maybe you do have some taste after all.

Me: Thanks honey.

****************************************************************
We have settled somewhat into our school routine. I just got a memo today though that some of the morning SK kids are going to be moved to the afternoon class with the same teacher. They are asking for volunteers, but even if they don't get them, some of the kids will be moved. This is not good for Rosebud since she is pretty tired in the afternoon and often naps or at least rests on her bed. Since I have a pretty good relationship with the Principal I am going to try to catch her later today to get more information and let her know that I would prefer for Rosebud to stay in the morning class...they want to hear concerns so I will oblige.

I am feeling better for the most part and am now 4 1/2 months along. It is starting to seem real now. We are talking about a new stroller and how we are going to combine the girls into one room. In some ways it seems so far off, but I know the fall will fly by and next thing you know it will be the holidays. My next ultrasound is in a few weeks and I think we are leaning towards finding out if this baby is a girl or boy. I still really don't want too, but I think it will make our preparations a lot easier.

I know I have been scarce around these parts, but I am reading even if I don't always comment. I have made a point of making my blog and blogging in general fit into my life, although I kind of miss when it was threatening to take over my life!

I keep saying to myself a family of five. It still doesn't always seem real. I hope I can hold it all together.

There really is no other way....

2008-08-08T15:01:00.002-04:00

*For those of you who don't know me, or simply stumbled here for the first time...this may be too much information. I'm just saying.

Other than to say yes, Mad, I am pregnant, 13 weeks. Wow. I said it out loud, it still sounds so shocking to my ears. I left a comment over at Bub & Pie today and realized quite soon after hitting post, OK right after hitting post that I kind of let it slip. Maybe I wanted it out there...it has been weighing heavily on my mind this much wanted and equally terrifying baby growing. I was so worried about telling all of you, my dearest supporters who still come back despite my sketchy posting schedule.

This has been an avalanche of emotions and while this pregnancy was planned, it came as quite a shock if that makes any sense.

We have always danced around the idea of one more, never say never was our motto as all our friends on Hubby's side rushed to get "fixed" and many of our friends from my side started having number three. We have our crib and highchair and most all of our gear that hasn't been destroyed after being passed around. We have the physical stuff, but I worry we might not have the mental gear.

Last summer after being a few days late and then ultimately getting my period, we decided it wouldn't be bad if it maybe did happen. Up until this point, it was always a maybe or whatever happens is meant to be and coupled with the fact that nothing was happening I really wasn't thinking about it all that much. With the girls I got pregnant pretty much on the first try and even if you toss in the miscarriages, I always seemed to get pregnant the minute we said it.

Well, last summer came and went and fall and winter and you get the idea. So imagine my great shock when mid June I realized something was up. Smells were heightened, the sight of raw food made me ill and I didn't even need the little stick to confirm what I already knew. This was about two weeks before our trip and I was feeling exhausted and sick and terrified of taking on a two week road trip with a million family members.

I was also convinced something would go wrong. I had about three blood tests before I settled down enough to even contemplate this was a reality. As we headed out for our trip, my mother-in-law figured it out after about 6 hours into the trip, but good to her word she kept it to herself. By the end of the trip though, most of Hubby's family had figured it out, the only people who didn't know were the girls. It didn't help that at about 6 weeks my bottoms did not fit and maternity clothes were too big. I spent most of the trip in yoga pants and the few maternity bottoms I could roll at the waist.

We waited until my first ultrasound which was last week before we told the girls. I just couldn't bear to tell them and then have something go wrong. They are so excited and tell everyone they meet, a part of me worries about rocking their world so much, but another part of me is convinced this baby is a gift to them.

So now everyone knows and it is fun and strange and I feel so, so old. I know I am not that old, but man I don't remember being this tired with the girls. I need and I mean that in the most literal sense to have a nap just about every day. I get sick most evenings from supper to bedtime...this often requires french fries to cure. I have gained six pounds already, which may not sound like a lot, but I gained 9 total for Papoosie Girl and 5 for Rosebud. Could this be the boy we thought we would never have? I have no idea, but Hubby really wants to find out. I don't though, so we will see what happens in September when I go back for the next ultrasound.

I am kind of jumbled up about it all still. I am glad you guys know, I feel much, much better. I hope to blog through this experience as it will most certainly be my last go round. Just saying three kids already makes my heart race a bit.

I am sure I will be seeking your guidance and insights along the way and I know you will not disappoint. Then there is the most important part of this, what will name this child? I know Alpha DogMa will not fail me in my quest for the almighty name that doesn't land me in one of those categories of hers. I am still a bit nervous and have that feeling of I am going to jinx it, but for better or worse this baby seems to be healthy and growing and right on track.

Remember me?

2008-07-24T15:30:00.002-04:00

Now that I have cemented my place as a rather inconsistent and sometimes reluctant blogger, let me at least say that I am still here, if not here very often.

We have made it back from our multi-generational, multi-family, multi-location trip fairly unscathed. We traveled a total of 3900km round trip and when I imagine it now I need to lay down for awhile.

Planning the trip was a long process and in the end I am glad I put in the effort. Packing both for a family wedding and a week at the beach was overwhelming, but worth it. We all looked smashing at the wedding and had a blast at the beach. Hubby has all the photos on his laptop, but I promise I will try to get some up soon.

The wedding was a large (300 people) affair in Long Island, NY. It was the swankiest wedding I have ever been too, valet parking, appetizers that consisted of, but were not limited too: a carving station with prime rib, turkey and pork - and all the trimmings, a sushi station, a custom pasta station, a cold salad and deli station, a seafood station, Chinese food station, um I might be missing something...it was a blur of food. Then we sat down to dinner! Which was so much more food I barely touched it, having stuffed myself with appetizers. We had an attendant at our table and each and every time you took your napkin off your lap and placed it on the table it was immediately refolded into a little hat on the table. Each. and. every. time.

The bathrooms had attendants, which prompted Papoosie Girl to finally ask, if that was the lady's job, to which I replied, yes. She seemed to think it was a fine job to hand out paper towels in the bathroom all day and was amazed that someone gets to do that.

Dessert was more crazy than the appetizers. We were served dessert, cheesecake I think, I never took a bite I was so far gone. Out in the adjoining hall was a Haagen-Dazs ice cream bar, someone making pretzels, cotton candy and candy apples and a popcorn machine. In addition, to a wall of sweets and cakes. At this point everyone is in a food-induced stupor and we are all just kind of staring at it all. Both my girls fell asleep and missed it all, for shame.

And did I mention my Hubby had the great idea of touring New York City the day before the wedding? The day immediately following our 9 hour drive to Long Island, the day wedged between the long drive and the wedding seemed like the perfect opportunity to tour NYC. So we did. The Statue of Liberty (holy security, um yeah that is my under wire, not really asked, but you get the idea), Time's Square, neighbourhoods, Central Park from the bus...all of it on a day so hot we felt like we might melt. It was intense and fun and looking back I cannot imagine how I agreed to go along with it.

So back to the wedding is over and we are so full, which is amazingly gone by the next morning...how does that happen? You swear you won't eat again for days, then the very next morning you are chowing down.

We packed up and picked up my in-laws from the relatives they were staying at and started to drive to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. We did the drive in two days since I wasn't up for a 12 hour drive, plus stops. We stayed at a lovely hotel right on the ocean and our mini-suite had an awesome view of the beach and ocean. My in-laws were in my room and my sister-in-law and her family had an identical unit a floor below us. My girls had a blast and everyday was spent at the beach and pool. We had a full kitchen so we ate nearly all our breakfasts - we had to go to IHOP once! in our room and lunches too. Dinners were out except for a night or two where we just too beat to go anywhere. Getting a suite with a full kitchen actually cost less that staying in some of the nicer (Hilton & Marriott) hotels. It was definitely a kid-friendly option.

Everyone had an amazing time and this was really all about Hubby, this was his moment. He has wanted all of us to go away together for awhile, feeling time slipping by too fast. Our one niece and nephew are both in university, his parents are getting older (hell, we are all) and he felt like there just would not be very many more opportunities like this. The wedding was the catalyst, we new we would all be there so why not make it a holiday was his feeling. Up until now we have always preferred to travel alone, just our family of four. We don't get a lot of time together really, so vacations have always remained pretty special - a time for us to reconnect.

These memories we created on this road trip will last a lifetime for my girls and for that I am thankful. I want them to know that their grandparents not only love them, but that they are a huge part of their lives. Life is short and in these moments I feel the loss of my Dad like my stomach has dropped out of my body. He should be having these moments too with my girls. Life doesn't work like that though and my girls are loved and cared for my many, many people. I'm not complaining, we are blessed in many other ways. Even more than I can share right now. There will always be a place though, in the back of my mind, that feels cheated for them, for not knowing him. The memories and emotions are like a tangled web of feelings, try as I might, I am forced to wonder and ponder how life can bring such sweetness and sadness and how in the eyes of my girls I see both.

I think you might be on to me

2008-04-10T10:36:00.005-04:00

No new post since February, I think you are definitely on to me. It is not that I don't love blogging or anything, but I think I realized early on that I am much more of a reader and don't seem to have the discipline to pump out regular posts. They are always in my mind lurking about, threatening to spill out, but then there is ALWAYS something that needs to done, sheets to be washed, kids fed, gifts to shop for, medication to pick up, appointments, Survivor to watch - you get the idea. Then I sometimes think that while I have my own voice I find so many of my favourite bloggers pluck the very thoughts and words right out of my head and I have a little sigh and think well there, it is said and done.

Life is full at this stage, the stage where whole other human beings are dependent on you for their very survival. It makes me tired quite frankly and while this blogging world is my coveted playground for my mind and soul it is not always easy to find the time to visit.

Things are still a never-ending battle of sick with both girls on antibiotics right now and Papoosie Girl in an asthma flare-up thanks to the change in temperature. When we have days of hot and cold mixed together she goes into attack mode.

It hasn't been all doom and gloom though. Papoosie Girl had her First Communion last weekend which was sweet and sad all mixed together. She made me practice with her so many times walking down our hallway clutching her hands just so - the hand you write with underneath! She wore my veil and headpiece and all around it was one of those heart wrenching moments that you are never prepared for, the moments and milestones that go undocumented in the books.

The most surreal part of the last few months was running into one of my elementary school friends, well my best friend at The Science Centre over March Break. I had run into her before a few times, but this time we were standing right next to each other while our kids looked at something and we just turned and stared at each other. There were hugs and a fast chat, there were four kids under seven at our feet and we exchanged emails and numbers. She told me our Grade 8 class is planning a reunion and that they have a facebook page set up and everything, she made me promise to get on, since I told her I have never really wanted to join all that much.

So here I have stumbled into this severe flashback with many of my former Grade 8 friends. Most of us are married with kids and some have exciting careers in the arts and some we are still trying to locate. Finding everyone and trying to fill in twenty plus years in small email sound bytes is hard. I have to tell people that no I didn't marry THAT person - for that everyone is thankful, I have to tell them my Dad passed away, that my baby brother is married and all this is filling my head and heart with clouds of memories.

We are still working on setting a date for the reunion and I know I will go and love catching up with everyone, but there are places I don't really want to visit, memories that are better left as a distant vision, blurred and soft in the distance.

On a completely unrelated topic and an admittedly terribly awkward change in direction, is anyone as fascinated with Jon & Kate Plus 8 or is it just me? I am hooked on this show and not just because they communicate with each other a lot (not totally but a lot) like myself and my husband, but I am completely mesmerized by this family. Not the worst show to watch I know, but I really can't put my finger on why I love it so much. I mean the kids are adorable and love their attitude of creating a normal day-to-day life for their kids, but there is something more and I can't quite put my finger on it.

Spring is coming, I can feel it and with I hope it brings a lightness that I think I have been missing for awhile now. The seasons come without fail and even in our darkest hours this thought is comforting, patting me on the back saying, "shush, soon you will be warm and free."

Edited to add: Maybe I was a bit emphatic saying that my Hubby and I communicate a lot like Jon & Kate and I do realize that by some standards they come across as mean to each other...I am talking more about the reality of not always being your personal best around the person you are supposed to love and cherish the most. In our house while we are not mean to each other we do have our moments of, "how could you not know the pink hair ponies are for going out" and yes I realize that many of Jon's shortfalls are completely invented by Kate, but I think I might do that too sometimes. I love my husband like no other, but that doesn't mean he makes me a little nuts sometimes and I am sure he would say the same about me.

I think I'll spin

2008-02-21T09:04:00.003-05:00

See that new background, that is what I am dreaming about. I am dreaming about warm water, sand and sun. I just booked our hotel for Myrtle Beach this July and I am giddy. We will be heading to Long Island, NY for a wedding at the end of June and I somehow convinced Hubby with my stealth charm that going to the beach after was a great idea. He wanted to go to Boston, but in my current state all I can dream about is palm trees and sand.

We are definitely a road trip kind of family I guess although the thought usually makes me hyperventilate a bit before we actually start the trip. Just last night Papoosie Girl was telling Rosebud that traveling is exciting because you get to see new things, she already has the bug. All the girls care about so far is the Statue of Liberty (thanks Wonderpets and Little Einstein’s!), the big Toys R Us in Times Square and the playground at Central Park I showed them. After all that we head to the beach, I really can't wait.

In this never-ending grip of cold and sickness it is what I need right now, to think of better times. It is not just my house though that has been caught up with this plague. It has been one of the leading news stories in Canada and the USA not to mention American Idol last night (after 6 seasons I have finally decided to see what all the hype is about, to be honest Simon is my favourite part most of the time) mentioned that many of the contestants had the flu. So many of my favourite bloggers and their families have been sick too. Is it me - or this winter just worst somehow?

Of course this weekend I told everyone I saw that yes we were all finally better and yes it was amazing that Papoosie Girl never got it. Then of course I picked her up from school all glassy-eyed and hot and she was telling me her muscles were "quivery" all day. I am now paying for my rookie mistake and tempting fate and all that as she sits on the sofa watching the Family Channel at the moment.

There is some good news though; we have turned Papoosie Girl into a Wheel of Fortune addict. I have watched Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy off and on for years, it is what my Mom used to watch every night so I was stuck watching unless I wanted to head for the basement TV. It was Wheel in fact that gave me the inspiration for my honeymoon. They were doing a broadcast from a resort in Hawaii and I was mesmerized to see Vanna swimming with the dolphins, I had to go there - and I did. When we were newly married Hubby and I used our hand-held Jeopardy machines (basically a calculator) to keep track of our score, competition was fierce and not always friendly.

The other night we had the television on watching the red alert screens going by on the weather channel and for some reason Hubby flipped to Wheel. Papoosie Girl who had been doing a puzzle before bed was hooked immediately and wanted to know all about it. That first night she had pretty much figured out the premise and was eager to try to solve the puzzles. The money part of it confused her; she kept asking if it was money for them to go to university.

I now tape it everyday and we watch it a bit earlier than it airs so bedtime is not jeopardized. She has been able to solve many puzzles...as long I keep my mouth shut and don't shout them out before she gets a chance to solve them. I am so impressed at how easy it is coming to her and the other day she asked me if we could go to the video store and get the Wheel of Fortune movie - that made me laugh. To watch her mind expanding is just inspiring and while I wish I could take the credit it is just her, my stubborn and sweet little girl with more determination than I ever had. Daddy even bought the computer version and she loves playing except she misses Vanna and Pat who for some reason aren't on the computer version.

As a kid I loved game shows and watched Price is Right, Family Feud, Jokers Wild, Match Game, Press Your Luck, I could go on and on. I guess she comes by it naturally. We have been chided for keeping our girls away from family-type movies we still feel are inappropriate for our girls, now that they are hooked on Wheel I can only imagine what our friends will say. I am all for letting them fill their heads with fun kids shows, it is just that the ones they like are the ones where they learn something, that is what they ask for. I would never let them watch violent or sassy shows with nothing but fighting and back talking it is just not my way.

So as a special treat I am going to let my adorable little letter turner watch last nights Wheel since she is all feverish right now. I hope that if we keep spinning our wheel will land on something other than being sick...like a nice jackpot of health for our family.

I have a good husband

2008-02-09T16:01:00.000-05:00

I have been sick again this week. Bah! I am so sick of being sick and this was the real deal - the flu. Shivers, shakes, high fever, chattering teeth (for real) and sweating so much I have had to change my pajamas up to three times a day. I feel cold, so cold like I can never get warm. I was so achy yesterday I sat in the tub and let the shower spray me with hot water for nearly twenty-five minutes. Even though I was sick off and on for all of December it was never enough to really warrant me a sick day. My Mom came her usual one day a week and I got the odd afternoon off while my in-laws picked up Rosebud from Kindergarten giving me freedom until 3pm when I would have to pick up Papoosie Girl.

I know, I know, my life is soooo tough. I will say this in my sad defense, I never ask for help - I actually suck at it. My Mother-in-Law calls every morning at the same time and if there is anything wrong with me she usually has to pry it out of me. I hate asking for help for me, how stupid is that. If it is for the girls I am much more likely to ask, for me, I play the martyr. So while I was sick in December I was able to get some rest in here and there, but for the most part it was sick me taking care of things.

So while that is all nice it is a bit boring. What is not boring is how wonderful my Mom, Mother-in-Law and Husband have been the last few days. Thursday my Mom can out in the afternoon and stayed late evening, making dinner, doing the laundry and taking care of the girls while I shivered on the couch. Friday, Hubby took the girls to school and my in-laws picked up both girls at their dismissal times and then kept them until Hubby picked them up. I was able to rest all day. It was such a treat, it is too bad I was too sick to enjoy it.

Today had already been planned for awhile for Daddy to take the girls shopping to buy Mommy's birthday and Valentine's Day gifts. Last year he let them choose whatever they wanted - in that store that starts with a "Z". I got a green velvet and lace tank top in size medium (I am a Large and not so velvety) and a dolphin charm and chain, a C&rious G&orge t-shirt size small - among many other interesting gifts.

I got up and went to the doctors this morning because frankly I was getting a little scared. How long can a fever hang around anyway? I am now back on antibiotics for some kind of infection and still fighting the flu, oh joy. Anyway, on to the My Husband is Great part. He left just after me around 9am and it is 4pm and he is still not home. He has been sending me photos and funny stuff from his iphone so I keep getting emails from him. Here is where they have gone so far (that I know of anyway):

McD's for breakfast
Ch@pters
W@lMart
The video store
The doughnut factory (Cr&spy Cr@me)
Home Improvement store

He called a while ago asking if he could keep them out longer...um sure! I do miss them, I really do, but I am sure loving the quiet. Hubby has always been taking the girls out with him to run errands, even when they were little and in diapers. I am always a bit sad when I think of some friends we know, that Dad has never taken his son out alone anywhere. My Hubby is always offering me a day off when he can and loves having his girls all to himself, and since I get them to myself so much during the week I am happy to oblige. For the most part we actually like doing things together, even if Hubby has work errands we all pile in together and make something fun out of it. I mean that is what life is all about, taking the crappy, the mediocre and turning it into something fun.

Everyday cannot be beaches and theme parks, real life can be fun too. You just have to try. I can't wait to feel better so I can play too. Thanks Hubby for being a great Dad.

I have a sister

2008-02-05T10:04:00.000-05:00

I think everyone knows this, at least my handful of loyal readers do. I have blogged about Amy and my brother before. I have made references to my sister in Korea teaching Kindergarten and left it at that. I have not delved too deep mind you, it feels like it is too complicated to blog about, your heart of hearts wants to say one thing and your head stops you, fingers poised and frozen above the keyboard.

It is an intricate arrangement when viewed by outsiders I am sure, but to us it really is as cliche as, "it is all we know" this entanglement of being family who have never lived together. The short version of the back-story is my parents divorced when I was quite small, my Dad remarried when I was ten and had two more children a boy and a girl. It was a bittersweet dream come true for this only child. I wanted a brother or sister all my life and here they were, but they were not really mine.

No matter how happy or well adjusted an only child is there is a deep down yearning for a sibling. This was the case for me at least and the funny thing is I am sure had that ever happened, my Mother ever had another baby, I would have not been happy. I craved quiet and order, lost in my world of books. Nothing made me happier than to be holed up in my room with my "brother" Smokey (our dog) a pile of books and a snack. I could (and still can) amuse myself for hours with imaginative play, books, puzzles and games. No one to play with? No problem, I would roll for Smokey or hold his cards. I am sure this sounds like a tragic mess and Hubby would argue that I am always a bit to eager to play a board game, but my childhood was hardly unfortunate. It may not have been conventional, but I was well taken care of ensconced in a comfortable middle class life and loved by four parents.

At the ripe old age of eleven when my brother came along I was quite content in my own room and having my own bathroom. Spoiled? For sure. It was however, the only life I knew, I visited my Dad, Step Mom and brother and sister regularly, then returned to my real life. There were hardships too, but on the grand scale of things my life was charmed.

I wonder now as an adult what I really thought of this arrangement. Did it really all seem so normal to me? When my parents first divorced it was not at all amicable, they did not speak. As time wore on though and they both remarried (the same year) they came to develop a workable friendship, all of them in fact. My Mom and Step Father and Dad and Step Mother would play euchre together, spent many New Years Eve's together and we celebrated my birthday together often. My Mom attended my brother's wedding this summer.

This is most certainly not the norm for divorced families and there were definitely issues, but they got resolved over time. I am sure my Step Mom was not exactly thrilled that my Dad and Mom occasionally met for dinner to talk about me, but she certainly never made me feel bad about it. She came to understand that my Mom and Dad while could not seem to live together, had a bond that went back to childhood. He loved both these woman that much was clear. My Dad once told me I was his first true love, I know he loved me even if I didn't have the benefit of having him around much in my early years. I really believe he got a second chance at fatherhood when my brother and Amy were born.

Then unexpectedly at age 48 my father passed away from essentially a massive heart attack. It was six weeks after I got engaged, August 10, 1996. At the time Amy was two weeks shy of her thirteenth birthday and I was twenty-five. We were at two very different places in our lives, it was not the time for us to share this experience. It was just too impossible then.

When my sister was in Korea for nine months last year I convinced her start a blog, I knew she would never be able to capture those moments again once she was home. She did and it was a fun way to us to keep in touch, something beyond email and phone calls which were orchestrated with military precision. The fourteen and sometimes thirteen hour time difference was a real challenge it seemed, as my girls were on their way to bed, she was getting up to start her day.

What I didn't expect over the course of her stay in Korea was to get to know my sister. It took for us to be halfway around the world from each other to open up, to bear our souls and share our grief. Prior to her going away we were both impervious to what the other was going through. We shared our lives on the surface, but never reached down. We come from English stock, it would have been scandalous to show weakness such as it were. When we had the safety cushion of a few thousand miles were able to peel back our layers and really talk to each other as adults. I felt like I have waited for her to catch up for years, now we were in the same place and shared the same language. What had been bottled up for years on my part, I was able to share with her, this other person who lost a Father.

When Amy returned we all overjoyed, especially Rosebud and Papoosie Girl, Auntie Amy was home. We had the whirlwind of the wedding and next thing you know it was September. By October Amy was living in Ottawa. This has been hard and while she is not as far as Korea, we can't exactly pop by for a visit. Close but not really is the new situation.

Amy is a wonderfully funny, witty, caring and smart woman. She is at a place in her life - she would say "life" where you are supposed to make decisions, tackle those crossroads that lie ahead of you taunting. She has resurrected her blog and I hope she doesn't get mad, but she could probably use some kind words of encouragement. I don't remember being as aware as she is during my post university days...then again I was already on my course having met Hubby at university. I finished school with a pretty clear plan of where I was heading. I wish now sometimes I had floundered around a bit, chased some of those dreams. At the time though I was chasing my dreams...

Amy is a wonderful sister. Our relationship is different perhaps from others, but at the heart of it is a strength of family that no amount of convention could define.

Much better, thanks for asking

2008-01-20T11:50:00.000-05:00

A brief medical update to let everyone know I am feeling MUCH better. I have finished my latest round of antibiotics and although I have not been back to the doctors yet for my follow-up, I am feeling about a million times better. That was an awful two weeks that I don't care to repeat anytime soon and I am shocked at how it affected me, it was strangling the life out of me.

I have still resolved though to love myself more, to cut myself more slack. This is monumental for me and still quite a work in progress. Reading, Eat Pray Love has left me craving for more like it so I am searching out similar books. So far I have been recommended, The Secret (which previously I passed on) and Simple Abundance, which I swear I have read before. Clearly, it is working, I am so focused and relaxed and all.

I wonder though who among us could really up and check out of their life to go on such a pilgrimage? It feels selfish to even think about doing something like that. I think this kind of introspection and searching for one's true core borders on decadence, this type of self-exploration is perhaps better left for the young and free. I am not saying this is not worthwhile decadence, just not a realistic pursuit for me in this chapter of my life.

The window of opportunity for this type of fancy free exploration has passed me by. You need to forgo all else in this pursuit and I think you would be hard-pressed to find many Mom's able to do this. Whether the reason is financial (who can afford to leave their job?), emotional (who wants to leave their kids and spouse for months at a time?), we need to find a condensed version of the journey. Yes, that is exactly what I need the Reader's Digest version of finding one's true self.

My husband has always been supportive of me not being around. He loves to take the girls out shopping or running errands alone. He relishes his time alone with them. He leaves me to fuss around the house in complete silence or occasionally steal away to have a coffee and read a magazine. He has been telling me for years to go away with the girls or even by myself. 'Get away for a while' he tells me all the while I am imagining just how their hair would look while I am gone.

Of course he can hold down the fort, but money isn't exactly falling around me in a happy rain so there is also that to consider. A weekend away however, is entirely doable. I have gone overnight once with the girls, but was back home in less than 48 hours - it was one night after all. And we stayed in the city, by my definition that is not really away. It was fun though and so nice to do what I pleased, but that is not even entirely true as I was with two other people. Thinking about it now maybe going somewhere alone is just what I need. It feels scandalous to even think about it, stay-at-home Mom's just don't up and leave the homestead do they?

I can hear your murmurs, "her husband says go and she is complaining" let it be known I realize I am grateful to have such a supportive husband. It is one thing to think about doing something and actually doing it. A huge part of me is wondering if I can get past the trepidation and do it. It is my own reservations here that is the fuel burning wildly and keeping me from doing it.

I have prattled enough for one post. If anyone has read any good books that they want to recommend let me know. Have any of you tried to check out of the homestead with the sole purpose of discovering yourself? I would be interested in hearing about it.

For you Canucks don't forget the CBC Test the Nation: Trivia challenge tonight...I was the winner of the Language challenge (not by much though) so we are having round two tonight.

Come out , come out, wherever you are

2008-01-10T09:24:00.000-05:00

I just read that today is National (or has it reached international status by now?) Delurking Day. I am actually not too fond of the words lurker or delurker for that matter, it sounds like something you could be charged for. A lurker is someone who does not leave a comment, but reads your blog regularly.

I have a loyal bunch of blogging friends who read and comment with such tender care that I have never really give it much thought as to who is reading and not commenting. Lately though I have noticed that there are several regular visitors that are in the shadows - of my Sitemeter at least. Maybe they are too shy, maybe they just enjoy reading, whatever the reason I don't really mind at all.

Here is the but part, if there are any of you who do want to comment and say 'hello' please feel free, I don't bite (unless provoked) and I would love to hear from you. If you wish to remain behind the scenes that is fine too, I myself read many more blogs than I comment on...so no worries.

Hmmn. To make this all a little easier here are some weird facts about me and a few other random bits to make the introductions a little smoother.

Funk and Love

2008-01-08T22:30:00.000-05:00

Christmas and New Year's are safely over and now I cannot deny that I am feeling a bit like I am in a funk. I read with listless enthusiasm about increasing my volunteering and curbing my spending, and if it only were not so much trouble I might raise my hand. My energy has vanished along with the piped in holiday soundtrack.

I am not normally this blase about life, especially topics and causes that are important to me. Of late though, I have been feeling like the proverbial hamster in the wheel, running and running and getting pretty much nowhere.

It has been a long fall. Hubby has been diligent in his efforts to get in shape and not be one of those awful statistics. Heart disease runs in his family and he is determined to lose weight, lower his blood pressure and cholesterol so he will be a part of this family for many years to come. Rather than stick his head in the sand, much like my current approach to health, he is tackling this head on. Trips to the gym five days a week and healthy eating are putting him on the right track.

So why then is it so hard for me to do the same? Why at the end of the day am I lucky if I have managed to get dinner for the girls, homework done and the kitchen cleaned up. I had a bad sinus infection in November that has not really left it seems. Many nights I cough for hours and only in the wee hours do I rouse myself out of my comfy warm bed to swig directly from the Benelyn bottle. I went to the doctor Monday and the infection indeed was not really gone, instead vacationing south in the area of my lungs. The sleepless nights and general malaise are in a large part due to this on-going sickness. Not enough sick to get me a sick day, just bad enough to render me tired, cranky and useless. Mostly the useless part as I am often tired and cranky.

When is a funk a problem? I am naturally a bit of an anxious person and usually a bit of a downer to be honest. I like order and structure much too much and when I don't have the energy to support that need I feel out of sorts. The doctor much to my dismay did not order me to immediately hop on a plane to a sunny beach with a tonic for my nerves. My doctor was not worried at all about my funk, he was reassuring that once my lungs are better and I am getting some solid sleep (among other things) I will bounce out of this. I want to believe this, that everyone gets moody and sad sometimes, but still it scares me.

Looking back I know for a fact that I suffered Post Partum Depression after both of the girls. On the surface you would have never known it, but deep down I was struggling to remain even keeled - to remain in control. I was very close to asking for help and looking back I wish I did. It was a dark, panicky and scary time and I wish I had the information I have now, the resources I could have tapped into then.

Something that makes me a bit sad is that I am my most best self when I am totally removed from my daily life and grind, like when we are on vacation. Why is that? Why is it so hard to be that smiley, relaxed person in my own home? I don't really expect answers here - no need to panic about a clever and enlightened comment - even though my most loyal readers are truly so clever and enlightened. I just want to feel that light inside everyday.

I know that everyone gets down sometimes and I certainly experienced some terrible post-partum moments. Moments where I was sure I could walk out the front door and never look back. Fantasies of putting the girls into a taxi and sending them to Daddy's office. The thing is these were just moments, one of thousands of moments in any given day. Days that stretched on into infinity day - after - day - after - day. Many of those moments were sheer bliss, some were so deep I was sure I had pierced my core and yes, some so scary I was sure I could not do this another minute. Motherhood is tough much of the time, not always a great place for a thin skinned gal like me.

So this brings me to the fabulous book I am reading which I am sure everyone has heard about, I mean the author has been on Oprah and all, it is Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and I am so loving this book. I am fascinated by someone who just up and checks out of her life on a quest for inner peace. The book is a bit fragmented in parts and she does come across as a bit of a whiner sometimes, still she captures so well the idea of quieting your mind to let in love, specifically God's love. What God it is doesn't matter, it is the idea of creating a space within yourself to let yourself be loved. I want to feel that peace too. I want to be good enough in MY mind to let that love in.

Being hard on myself is kind of my calling card I suppose. I know I can always do better and it bothers me. Today though I am resolved to being nicer to myself, to opening up my heart for more love - from everyone. Call it my New Year's resolution - to love myself more. I can't really think of anything better to resolve.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

2007-12-29T23:36:00.000-05:00

It seems impossible to me that I have not posted since November, but alas it is true. My desire to post and desire to read battle it out quite frequently and you can see for yourself who wins. Tidings of Comfort and Joy are what I want so badly at this time of year. It is like I crave to recapture if only for a short time, internal peace and spread that goodwill to others.

I want to wish (albeit a tad late) a wonderful holiday season to all and best wishes for a Happy New Year! Our Christmas was wild and wonderful and a bit sad too. The holidays make me wistful for those not here and everything just seems more emotionally stocked around the holidays. That is not JUST a tea towel it is THE tea towel and that sort of thing. Many great bloggers have posted wonderful Christmas stories and it brought me a lot of comfort knowing that I am not the only one who finds this time of year so loaded with emotional weight. That is to say that not everything people are posting about IS wonderful, just that we are all struggling with something amidst this joyous time of year. I find it reassuring to know that behind closed doors there are other people like me.

We have been so busy! For real life as Rosebud would say. In the last week - give or take a day or two we have:

-Celebrated Christmas Eve in the way we used to when my Dad was alive
-Celebrated Christmas Day with both of our parents in the same day - and found time to visit an Aunt as well!
-Found the time to bake shortbread and spritz cookies - they were so yummy!
-Found the time to make the cool applesauce, cinnamon and glue ornaments and let me tell you it took some time!
-Made two trips to the coolest house ever to look at their Christmas lights (including one on Christmas Day)
-Had Boxing Day dinner with my in-laws followed by ice-skating for everyone
-Took the girls to see Enchanted and out for dinner for Papoosie Girl's birthday -cute movie by the way, actually poke me in the eye cute, but little girls will eat it up (note scary scene at the end though)
-And, because we obviously feel guilty for saddling her with a holiday birthday we went to High School Musial on Ice for Papoosie Girl's birthday (with tickets purchased impulsively by Hubby on Boxing Day) and out to dinner AGAIN
-Went to Niagara Falls to see the holiday lights, this was fun and the Falls are always inspiring but lots of walking across lots of muddy grass.
-Finally, we roasted real chestnuts in a real open fire (well fireplace) and nearly smoked the house out, but they were declared delicious by those who ate them. Ahem, that would not be me eating those scorched little balls.

I am so tired just reading this list and I have probably forgot ten things. I wanted to include some of the dozens of lovely photos we have taken, but the dear camera battery died today so nothing until it gets its juice back.

I hope everyone is enjoying their time off and using it to recharge their batteries.

Peace to all in 2008.

Not normally heard at a wedding

2007-11-29T22:05:00.000-05:00

My Mom and I were enjoying a rare hot cup of tea last night after dinner, in that bewitching lull between bath and bedtime.

The girls were happily playing on the floor with the 300 or so Princess dolls (they are just like Polly Pockets, only they are the Disney Princesses) and they had an elaborate wedding all set out where two lucky princesses got to marry a prince which there are two of.

All of sudden Rosebud exclaims:

Wait! We have to stop the wedding I need to put on my pants and turn my body around. Everyone remain calm.

She is going to make someone very happy one day.

And a dolly, and a sled, and a new dress...

2007-11-24T14:00:00.000-05:00

I have been hopelessly negligent in posting these days...here is a little Christmas cheer to get everyone in the mood.

I have waxed poetically about my urge and need to reduce and control the clutter in our house, the cathartic experience of freeing yourself from stuff. As we ramp up for the time of year when the most holiest and materialistic marry up in a dual to the finish, I find myself thinking of ways to do things better. Move away from the stuff and move towards helping others, creating memories and opening the girls up to new experiences. Angels singing in the background.

I am still wrestling with our five present rule we (admittedly made up and in fact quite random) a few years ago. That would be five gifts from Santa only on Christmas morning plus their stockings (stockings contain a toothbrush, socks, undies, maybe a small book -just the little things). We have not started any gifts from each other and so far we are happy with the simplicity of Christmas morning this way. The girls have three sets of grandparents, many other relatives and friends so they get many gifts. I put a lot of thought into their gifts and most everyone checks with me so I can make sure the girls they get things they want and will use...not just more plastic crap. She says as she lugs the Dora Let's Get Ready Vanity to the basement in a garbage bag...the ONLY item in Rosebud's letter to Santa...she eventually added a few other random items after much prompting. You can't get any more plastic and crap in one gift and let it be known I wrestled hard over this purchase and got it on sale for nearly half price. Guilt recedes a bit.

I don't exactly announce our five present idea to everyone I meet, but it has leaked it's way out and around in the last few years. It has been met with many a mixed review. Most older people yelp about how five is such a large number of gifts, surely one or two would do? Don't you have sticks and rocks for them already?!

Then on the other hand we get a lot of people who think we are just plain Scrooge-like and we are ruining Christmas and compromising their sweet holiday memories forever. Five was made-up, it had no significance other than it seemed like plenty to oh and ah over and to ensure it didn't look like Santa had forgotten us and few enough gifts that they didn't sit around for hours in an opening frenzy with about as much enthusiasm for each gift as Britney has for underwear.

We are sticking to our plan for this year since it all works out quite well in terms of what they want, what Santa is willing to give, and what I think is enough without being too much. My worst fear (well, one of the top five at least) is raising ungrateful little monsters who are looking for what is coming next. Beck had some great ideas for simple food and craft gifts that are easy to make and much more personal to give and receive. The girls and I are going to try the cocoa in a jar this year along with some shortbread cookies we make, a perfect homemade gift I would say and simple enough that I won't lose my mind in the process.

I am still deciding what charity project we will be doing this year. Our school is not doing the Shoebox campaign this year which is too bad because it is such a great project for young kids to work on. Instead we are doing an adopt-a-family campaign and collecting donations for five families. I want to do something else for just our family, to really send the message to the girls that we are privileged. Not to make them feel bad, they should not be made to feel guilty for being born into our family; but to make them aware that along with this privilege comes a responsibility. A responsibility to share our resources with those less fortunate than us, if I can not only get that message across in a way they understand, but can instill it in my girls; then I will have done well.

Making memories, creating traditions and helping others is the spirit of the season I want my girls to remember long after the gifts are opened.

Happy Halloween!

2007-10-31T23:15:00.000-04:00

Note: I took down the photo from this year after 24 hours as there were other kids besides mine in the shot...

Here is a little bit of Halloween past just for fun.

Monday Musings - More Like Random Thoughts

2007-10-29T23:05:00.000-04:00

Lately I have been filled with random thoughts. Some of them are scary, some are weird, some are productive and some are just strange.

Like how I realized I clap in one direction. Are you clapping yet? I always clap with my left hand lower than my right and I use my left hand to clap against my right.

I sometimes wonder about my future kids, not the ones that are unborn, the ones here now. I wonder if I will recognize them in their future incarnations. I see glimpses of the people they are becoming and I am both in awe and scared silly to know that these are probably the only two people who will be able to call my bluff. The people who have watched me, silently at first, do all kinds of things I would never do in front of others.

You know what I mean. When it is just you and a baby in the house you can pretty much get away with anything, they can't rat you out and tell your spouse you were blogging all day or spent an hour examining your face in the mirror. Bigger kids though they can and do let your secrets out. My girls think I am working on my laptop, I have never actually said what I was doing mind you- they just assumed this. It is when I forget to turn the sound down that they usually bust me and rush over to find out what I am doing. Typing however, never causes them to rush over.

I have been thinking of trying to get my act together in the kitchen, how I am going to do this however, is another matter. I get the idea that if you prep everything ahead then the actual cooking is a breeze. I just never seem to know just how much prepping is required and when are you supposed to do this, I mean if I spend all morning prepping the food and all evening cooking it how is anything else supposed to get done?

The idea of menu planning and shopping lists is like an aphrodisiac to me, but still I don't do it well. Every now and then I vow to set a menu plan for the week, shop once and make lovely homemade meals every night. In reality I wake up most mornings with no clue of what the girls and I will eat for dinner and I end up at Longo's most days for something. We eat out far too much and I really want to change that. It doesn't help that the girls are picky eaters either. Lately we are making strides to change that and be a bit more forceful in the trying new foods department, but sometimes I just want to eat in peace.

I bought the new book from Jessica Seinfeld, Deceptively Delicious and I am still reading through it. I love the idea of ~~hiding~~ adding in extra vegetables into the girls diets, but I wonder why it has to be that way. Why do I need to shell out money to figure out how to get my kids to eat better? Why are they not better eaters because I want them to be?

After my recent tumble, I have been taking back every random thought I have had about secretly wishing I could break something just so everyone would take care of me for a while. Truth was I could barely keep my swollen ankle on the couch while Hubby attended to the girls all evening. I am a lousy patient, and kept straining my neck to see exactly what he was putting in their lunch bags.

So as promised a post made up of entirely random thoughts. Right now my random thought is that the girls will need their bangs trimmed before their Christmas photos at Sears in two weeks, and yes I booked the appointment at the end of August. Damn type A's getting all the good appointments! I often cut the girls bangs myself and must admit I am getting pretty good, but for photos I differ to the professionals.

Had enough? Me too. What kind of random thoughts are keeping you up?

WAIT! I have one more to share. I got the girls grilled cheese Happy Meals from that evil place on the way home from dance class tonight, please don't judge me too harshly. The whole box, meal thing was all about The Bee Movie which incidentally I really want to take the girls to see - I still love Jerry. Anyhoo, we ordered milk and got with our meals these Sipahh Straws, has anyone heard of these? The one we got was Honeycomb flavour to tie in with the movie I suppose and while Papoosie Girl gamely put it in her milk and used it, Rosebud promptly asked for her regerler straw. It smells really strong and while I get they use these meals mainly as a marketing vehicle for the latest thing we should be watching/buying/renting these straws are taking it to a whole new level. That really stings. What would Jessica say?

Fall Down - Go Boom

2007-10-26T09:50:00.000-04:00

Yup. That is what happened yesterday as I was leaving the house to pick up Rosebud from school. I locked the front door, turned around, took a step and the next thing I remember is hitting the patio stones of our walkway. I know I turned my left ankle so I think I stepped off with my left foot, it twisted under me and I fell forward and landed with a great thud.

I was so stunned I just sat up and cried on the walkway. In a moment of, I could be seriously hurt and no one would know, kind of way. At first I really could not stand, I am not a slight girl and the weight of falling from a step coupled with my weight knocked the wind out of me.

About a minute later I realized that I need to get up and by now both my shins were throbbing and so is my left ankle and it is now six minutes until I need to pick up Rosebud. A quick mental scramble reveals that all of my close by backup people are not home, so that leaves me to hobble to the van and get Rosebud.

Did I mention that I had promised Papoosie Girl she could come home for lunch? She asked me everyday last year, but because that would mean Rosebud would have to to miss her nap it never worked. Now that Rosebud has her ballet class on Thursday afternoons and doesn't nap anyway, it seemed like a good idea.

As I was driving to get Rosebud I called Hubby in what I would call a controlled panic. I blubbered through my fall and told him he would have to come home on time or please, please, please a bit early. As a certified klutz I am sure he was not too freaked out, though for the record he has stepped off that same step and twisted his ankle twice...this was my first time! Note to self: Is there a problem with the step or just the users? Look into.

Rosebud's teacher took one look at me and gasped. I guess I looked a little messed up. I managed to get both girls home and feed them lunch which thankfully I had prepared before I left the house and I even managed to get Papoosie Girl back to school on time, which basically meant I pulled up in the front of the school, called the secretary and told Papoosie Girl to buzz herself in.

Hubby made it home to take Rosebud to dance class and I lounged on the couch all afternoon alternatively feeling really stupid and really sorry for myself. Falling for me is a big deal because I have the worst legs in the world. I have huge, ugly veins on the surface of my skin so the slightest bump results in a huge lump where the vein bursts. I then need to wrap it in a tensor for a few days and the resulting bruise will last for weeks. I have looked into surgery, but they advise against it unless you are done having children. Since I am not willing to make that call as of yet, I have the crappiest, most sensitive veins ever. My legs will probably be bruised and sore for weeks now. Blech.

The only upside was how sweet and caring the girls were as I tried to wash my legs off and wrap them while they ate. Papoosie Girl got the Polysporin and band aids and kept telling me, "it's OK Mama it is the kids one so it won't sting" all the while I am trying to be brave and not cry in front of them. Rosebud kept telling me to sit down and they both insisted they were going to be the best listeners ever and not give me a, "bit of trouble" all day.

I have the sweetest girls and best husband who took over all house duties, made me the best supper, took care of the girls and made me tea while we watched Survivor and 30 Rock. How do people do this alone? What if I had no one to call? Those thoughts make me realize that while it is easy to say how lucky you are sometimes, I really am lucky.

Since I am not supposed to be on my feet today I have a free pass to blog and read all morning. Maybe it is not that bad after all.

That photo is of Papoosie Girl falling into the hay on our apple picking trip in September. I was not looking nearly as happy after my fall.

Life Imitates Art

2007-10-23T09:42:00.000-04:00

The weather here in southern Ontario just keeps getting stranger. The temperature Sunday was around 26 degrees and sunny. We visited the McMichael art gallery today mainly to see the Robert Bateman exhibition which closes on - oh according to the website it has been extended an extra week until November 4, 2007. Today on the other hand was a wet and chilly morning.

I have wanted to bring the girls to the gallery for quite awhile, but was weary of the priceless works of art and you know my KIDS in the same room. Papoosie Girl had a science project recently on birds and she choose the Blue Jay. In my excitement of her first project, I love me a project! During ~~our~~ her research I wanted to show her some paintings of Blue Jays and we ended up on the Bateman website. I had forgotten how much I love his work. Then I heard about the Bateman exhibit and decided that we should visit the gallery. For good measure and an extra set of adults Nana and Papa (my Mom and her husband) came along for the visit.

I am fortunate enough that my step mom has several original Bateman prints that were my Dad's. I also bought my Mom a very tiny Bateman print of a chipmunk from an art sale when I was a cool office dweller working downtown. They had an art sale nearby and I could not resist the small framed print and wanted to surprise my Mom with a real grown-up gift. She still has it and it is up in her bedroom.

The Robert Bateman exhibit did not disappoint. The paintings were so amazing, his talent is really like no other in capturing nature. Many of the paintings were accompanied by his own words, why he did what he did or how he did it and that was so fascinating. His attention to detail and his vast knowledge of plants and wildlife is beyond compare. There was a painting titled Pacific that was so real I studied and studied it and declared it wet.

There is a quote on his website and appeared in the gallery literature that is worth sharing:

"I can't conceive of anything being more varied and rich and handsome than the planet Earth. And its crowning beauty is the natural world. I want to soak it up, to understand it as well as I can, and express it in my painting. This is the way I want to dedicate my life."

Despite my hotel tendencies and general lack of enthusiasm towards any kinds of roughing it, I feel a pull towards nature, towards trees and rocks and blue skies. If I am in the city for too long without any nature time I crave it as much as food. Visiting the gallery and seeing all the people marvelling over Bateman's work confirmed that I am not alone. We have advanced so far away from our natural roots as modern, twenty-first century people; yet we pay money and line-up to see paintings of the natural world. It is like we can somehow absorb life through these paintings.

I have not visited the gallery in ages and had forgotten how much I love the Group of Seven artists. I felt like I was taking a walk down memory lane as I meandered the gallery taking in the works of A. Y. Jackson, Tom Thomson and Lawren Harris. Images so familiar to me, I guess in part because my school used to make at least one trip a year to the gallery, but also because I am seeing my country in these images, through my adult eyes.

The gallery was pretty busy and we waited about 5-10 minutes to get down the driveway to pay ($5) for parking. The grounds are actually just as nice as the gallery itself, there are several paths to walk and artwork throughout the grounds, the girls loved the Inukshuk. It was so pretty with the gorgeous views of the Humber Valley and we got some great shots of the girls romping along the paths.

The gallery is mostly stroller friendly for those of you thinking of visiting with the munchkins. Rosebud was tired and insisted we go back to the van for the stroller before we even started which actually was better since having her loose near the paintings was making me sweat. The paintings are not roped off in any way and I saw many toddlers get too close only to be told by the many staff to not go any closer than the lights on the ceiling. Um, yeah like a three year old is going to understand that. I did see many frazzled parents trying to keep curious hands off the artwork which is definitely within reach of little hands.

All the bathrooms had change tables and the lobby sold drinks, snacks and sandwiches. There was a restaurant downstairs (I never saw an elevator so you might have to carry your stroller down) but the buffet was $16 dollars so we opted for a few snacks and water before heading out for a walk. There is a small Discovery Area for the kids at the end of the gallery tour and the girls loved it, but it is pretty small, not more than two families would fit comfortably. I would definitely take Papoosie Girl back and since we got a membership that seems likely, but I might not take Rosebud if I was alone. It is hard for them to understand that there is no touching when we have taken them to so many kid-friendly museums and such.

Papoosie Girl was fascinated with the First Nations and Inuit art and loved the totem poles - just like on Little Einstein's! There were artists on hand and an art sale and one of the artists let her roll clay and spent a lot of time explaining to her what she was doing. I was grateful for an extra set of hands so she could spend some time with the artist. She was definitely in her element.

Even if this wasn't the most leisurely visit, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We got off to a late start and didn't arrive until 12pm, I usually prefer an early start for day trips, but this was a pancake morning - with our new Halloween shapes thanks to our evening visit to Yorkdale last night (quick trip to the Apple store for Hubby) and our visit to Williams & Sonoma. By the way, I don't make pancakes, well hardly ever. Daddy is the master pancake maker and loves his shapes, this is the second set we have bought and have had the first set for over a year now.

Just so you don't think we have piles of money lying around for such important things like pancake molds. For those of you kitchen obsessed, Yorkdale is getting a Crate & Barrel in 2008! Yes American friends we are still missing several of your wonderful stores, including Victoria's Secret (best underwear on the planet), Bath and Body Works, Target, and let's not forget Olive Garden -which we had and lost. Hence, why I need to make my frequent visits to my favourite ~~stores~~ family in New York.

I love when we introduce the girls to something new, it feels like such an accomplishment. Art and nature and history are so important to me and I want to share that and those feelings with my girls. Imagine my pride when Papoosie Girl would surprise us with some little gem of knowledge throughout the day, see I am doing a good job I would think! As I glance at my fridge covered in artwork I understand, how indeed, life imitates art.

Oops

2007-10-21T22:44:00.000-04:00

I was working on a post this evening and accidentally hit publish. What an idiot you are thinking. I was trying to switch windows to check something and hit publish instead.

I am sure Goggle Reader picked it up even though I immediately took it down...it will be back, in its completed form when it is done I promise.

Duh.

The Circle of Life or something like that

2007-10-16T16:54:00.000-04:00

I have had a busy and exhausting week. Someone died and was born a day apart in our family this weekend. My Mom's husband's (stay with me) Aunt passed away Friday after battling lung cancer for about two years. How she hung on this long is in itself some kind of miracle. Then on Saturday my BFF (for real) had her third child, a boy.

While I didn't know this Aunt well my Mom had been spending a lot of time taking care of this woman these past few weeks, in fact I have not seen my Mom in two weeks which is pretty unheard of. This woman never uttered a single complaint, never asked why me and spent much of her time thanking my Mom while she buzzed around her trying to help. This woman was able to stay at home until her dying day when she lost consciousness in her chair never to wake up. She passed away peacefully it seems. She leaves behind a twenty-something son.

The next day another son was born to my friend, her second boy. Her husband and I were in the delivery room and it was everything a birth should be; happy, exciting, and ended with a healthy baby. This is the fifth baby between us to be born at this hospital so we are pros at navigating the Labour & Delivery floor. We practically took over and spent much of her labour laughing, talking and watching movies like The Wedding Singer and Runaway Bride on W Network...well some of us anyway. The baby was healthy and strong and they let him lie on her chest for over 45 minutes before they took him for his vitamin K shot and eye drops. He was 6lbs 5ozs of pure joy beaming at us.

It is hard for my brain to wrap my head around the series of events of that twenty-four hours. A son lost his mother, a young man not quite ready to be alone in the world and a mother I love and care about gave birth to a son.

I am not usually a maudlin person, but this is hard for me to sort out and rationalize and every crappy platitude about the Circle of Life has me bristling.

I will attend the funeral tomorrow of a woman that while I didn't know well, I will go for her son, he deserves that. Then I will go visit my friend and her new baby boy and rock and cradle and kiss his head that is smaller than an orange. I have seen him every day from the day he was born. He is helpless and demanding and cute as a bug, he peed on me and pooped into his fresh diaper and I didn't even mind.

I hope this son grows up to know his mother - that he doesn't have to say goodbye to her before he is ready. It really is the hope of most people I would think to never have to say goodbye before we are ready. This makes no sense I realize as I reread these words, we are never ready for death. When someone who is 99 and has lived a good long life passes we think, they were ready, but you know what? There is always someone left behind that was NOT ready.

The Circle of Life is making me a bit dizzy today.

One Year Later

2007-10-09T10:40:00.000-04:00

My first blog post and the creation of my blog was on October 5, 2006. It is a sad little post that I won't even bother linking to, it is just too pathetic...something like Blog Post #1. I have many times said that I didn't even know what blog was before frantically searching and trying to find a website for Catherine Newman after she left Baby Center. Of course what I did find was her blog and my very first click away from her blog took me to Bub & Pie - do I know how to pick them, and the rest is well, bloggy history. I found some kindred spirits and even though they are halfway across the country they inspired me.

My blog has definitely been a huge part of my life for the past year and if you told me that a year ago I would have scoffed at the idea. My high hopes of posting thought-provoking and riveting pieces filled with literary wit have given way to me spewing out posts sporadically at best. It seems I am greedy or lazy or both and often prefer reading blogs to actually posting on mine. I do love to write posts, to have a great idea, stew on it and write something wonderful. More often than not though it is something I need to get off my chest or some moment I want to preserve, that actually makes it into a post.

I still want to learn how to change my wallpaper. When given twenty minutes though I will always pick reading blogs over figuring out code.

I don't want to sound too naive or anything, but I have learned LEARNED so much from the blogs I read regularly. New books to read, parenting tips, recipes to try, causes to embrace, movies to watch, places to visit, and so many more I can't even type them all. I have friends and family, yet this is the place I go to for answers a lot of the time. This is the place where I feel my shoulders relax and a sigh escaping my body as I travel around my online neighbourhood. I feel joy when something goes well for a friend, anger when something doesn't, sympathy when a friend is hurting and empathy for a friend struggling with something. I say "friend" purposefully because anyone I think about on a daily basis, whether I have met in person or not, is a friend.

When I start to feel bad, like I am not contributing enough to this place, I feel myself retreating. I worry about keeping up. I WANT to keep up and post and comment and comment and post, but sometimes real life gets in the way. I am amazed at how people with busier households than mine find the time, I wonder how they do it.

All that doesn't really matter though because I refuse to stop doing something I love and brings so much into my life.

So one year later I am still blogging. This was a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend, we went apple picking, ate lots of turkey, visited Chapters and bought so many great books (with gift cards!) and spent time together as a family.

I have a lot of blog posts percolating so hopefully I will get the words out more often and if I don't that is OK too. I might still be at the kids table of the blogging world, but hey I am at the party and that is what matters.

Monday Musings - Getting the job done

2007-10-01T06:30:00.000-04:00

I thank those of you in advance who do read my blog regularly for STILL reading my blog despite the fact that it is far from regular lately.

I think I may have talked about this before, oh look I did! We all complain (well I sure do) that we have too much to do and so little time and I really do! For real, in real life as Rosebud would say. I am a compulsive list maker, without lists I feel very lost and unhappy. No matter how long the list might be, it is better than no list. Keeping lists is my way of freeing up my mind, once transferred to the list the problem seems more manageable.

I have a list on the side of the fridge with our big projects, house projects that we need to complete or start as the case may be. Here is a sample of that list.

House Jobs
-Put down laminate floors on our main floor (the last place we have carpet)
-Organize the basement (more on that later)
-Clean the fridge and freezer in the basement
-Fix the caulking around the tub, I also have always never been crazy about our upstairs bathroom floor, so add that to the list too
-Empty and go through our cupboards, wash them down and put everything back

Then there is MY list the list of stuff I want to do, the jobs that keep our house humming and from drowning in our own crap.

Jen's List
-Finish putting our Florida pictures in the album, put away our travel stuff (brochures, pressed pennies, menus, miscellaneous vacation schlock)
-Print our recent digital photos and put them into albums, I have not printed since May. Since Papoosie Girl has been born I have been vigilant about putting our photos into albums with white paper dividers on the pages for me to record dates, add captions, etc. My girls love to look at these albums and if I have done nothing else this is my crowning achievement of home organization.
-Sort and put away Papoosie Girl's Grade One work into her keepsake tote
-Craft alert: help the girls glue the damn shells on the wooden frames my Mom bought after we got back from Florida (last summer)
-Put all our extra photos, remember what it was like before digital? You got the photos back from developing and used maybe half of them for albums and family and tossed the rest somewhere? I bought some cute photo boxes with dividers so I can get rid of all those envelopes.
-Figure out what to do with all those greeting cards. I love cards and give them freely and in turn we receive cards. I like to keep them, but this creates a lot of cards in our home. I have two hat boxes full and while I did let the girls use some of our old Christmas cards for crafts we still have many, many cards. They are special to me and I hate the idea of getting rid of them. I think I could purge them though and only keep the really special ones.

The basement is another story all together. I have made attempts in the past to organize our basement. Keep the Christmas stuff together, keep our high school and university stuff in one spot, our Royal Doulton dishes we have never used in one spot, you get the idea. The problem is that when you move into a house you have less stuff than you do say ten years later. As time goes on you stuff your newly acquired crap in every nook and cranny you can find. It is random as long as it is put somewhere. Now ten years and two kids later we need to take a step back and give this basement some thought.

Our basement is not finished and we basically use it for storage. There is a small area we have carpeted for the girls and we have some of those funky IKEA toy storage shelves with bins. The girls can come down and play and get their dress-up clothes any time they want. This area is generally organized and I won't include it in my disdain for the rest of basement.

The basement also has about 25 Rubbermaid totes (no joke) with kids clothes. I keep all of Papoosie Girl's clothes for Rosebud and I keep what Rosebud is outgrowing for my goddaughter. It is a non-stop merry-go-round of clothes shuffling, winter in, summer out, too small in, too big out, next summer, boots for next winter...it NEVER ends.

So between the wall of totes, our holiday boxes, keepsake stuff, photos, dishes we have no room for upstairs, and a husband who keeps the box from every single thing he buys; our basement is getting kind of stuffed around the edges.

How do you keep everything in order? How often do you clean everything out? It has been several years since we did a big clean out, taking everything off of every shelf, purging and putting it all back nicely. When the basement gets too crowded I feel claustrophobic every time I go down to the basement. The rest of the house is fine, peek in my linen closet, open my medicine chest, the pantry is pretty good; but the basement is annoying.

Why I let it annoy me is another story. With all the day-to-day things on my plate the basement hardly seems important, but looky here is a whole blog post devoted to it! Here is the thing, what I have noticed is that when my mind is cluttered I look to my home and what is around me to see where the problem lies, but this time it is my mind that is cluttered. I am wrestling with some stuff that I shouldn't* really blog about and it is weighing heavily on me. Nothing life threatening or earth shattering, just stuff I am not really ready to talk about here yet. Do I stay on the school Council? Do I put up a fight so my daughter can participate in her First Communion with the rest of her class? Do I have another baby? How do I get myself healthier and carve out a bit of time for myself that doesn't involve sitting on my arse reading blogs? How on earth do you get dinner on the table every single night?*

*So maybe I am ready to talk about them a little. Just a little though.

My mind and my basement need a dusting and airing out. These things on my mind are preventing me from being able to concentrate and I hate that the constant narrative that is normally harmless and even enjoyable is now bothering me. I want to be fun and happy and carefree and my big dumb old brain won't let me. There will always be things on my mind, it is my ability to park stuff in the back of the lot that I need to work on. Everyone worries about their house, work and family; it is human nature. I just hate when it gets too near the front and it starts bubbling over in that frothy way.

Getting the job done in my case may involve a lobotomy.

Monday Musings - A Little bit of Everything

2007-09-10T13:45:00.000-04:00

Today was Rosebud's very first day of school. Here's the thing, it was a non-event. I feel bad even saying that, but it is true. We got ready, took lots of photos, went to school, waved bye and she was off. I didn't have a lump in my throat or that lurching feeling in my stomach and I was not rapidly blinking back tears. I mean I am still sad and overwhelmed and cannot believe I have two school-age children, but really I am fine. Doesn't she look cute? She wanted to look fancy, but casual (her words) and she wanted her rainbow feet which is what she calls these tights.

What did I do with my two and half hours of new found freedom?

A) Have a leisurely breakfast somewhere alone, reading the paper?
B) Come home and have a nap?
C) Put my feet up and watch TV?
D) Clean the bathrooms?

If you choose "D" you would be correct. I took this chance to use my heavy-duty cleaners and give the bathroom a good scrub. The thing is after drinking my Tim's coffee and having breakfast (after dropping the girls at school) and answering the phone calls from everyone wondering how this morning went, I had about 45 minutes left before I had to go pick her up. My routine has just gotten busier with three daily stops at the school, but I am sure I am going to be enjoying my two and half hours of freedom everyday.

*****************************
Remember that Friday was my 10th
anniversary? Well, I thought I would post some pictures of my loot. We went out to dinner to The Keg then to the Cirque du Soliel show Kooza and I got two dozen roses, a lovely card and beautiful diamond stud earrings. I don't really wear a lot of jewelery, I wear my wedding and engagement rings and I have ring I wear on the other hand that was a gift when I had Rosebud. It is a lovely ring with three square diamonds to commemorate the three girls in the family.

I wear those and my watch everyday and I wear a chain with a cross that I don't take off. I usually wear one of two or three pairs of earrings all yellow or white gold and all pretty classic, I don't wear a lot of costume jewelery although I do have some nice stuff that I sometimes wear to weddings or fancy occasions. I have one pair of small hoop earrings with diamonds that were a gift from Hubby when I had Papoosie Girl, those are my fancy earrings. In the house though, no jewellery (sans necklace) all rings and watches come off the minute I am in the front door, I cannot work with anything on.

So while everything is pretty classic I am fairly well decked out in diamonds if I have it all on at once. I must admit I have always loved diamond studs for their classic look and clean lines, but I was shocked to get them. I was thinking dinner and a night out were plenty, so I was not only surprised, but touched that he would pick something he knew I always wanted.

Enough about the gifts though, what I wanted to share was the wrapping. Hubby is obsessed with all things paper, boxes, ribbon and bows. He taught me how to make a bow out of ribbon - I used to buy them ready-made of course. Now he needs to know about paper and stock weights and finishes for his job and he can pick up just about any type of paper and tell you all the qualities, but that isn't even it. Even before he worked at this job he would bring me to paper stores, box stores, packaging stores, you name it. He would lovingly touch and admire all the different types of paper.

He bought this box, wrapped it himself, chose the co-ordinating tissue - everything. He really believes that if you take so much care in choosing the gift your efforts in the presentation should be the same. As a woman I must admit I was a bit shocked at his abilities in this area, after all most guys, or I should say most guys I knew would more likely hand you a gift still in the bag from the store. His abilities more importantly made me look bad, I mean I am a good wrapper and all and can choose a good gift bag, but he rises above me. This also can be a sore spot for some of my friends, can I help it if I am spoiled? The way I see it, it is a two-way street and nice begets nice around here.

One last thing about wrapping. He thinks the above gift is one of his best efforts to date and while it is nice it doesn't compare to this one. Christmas 1999 he saved one of my gifts to give me on New Year's Eve. When I opened this book I thought it was cute and funny joke, a romance novel about the year 2000. I actually put the book down until he told me to open it and check it out. As you can see he hollowed it out and hid a necklace inside. I always thought this was the best and most creative wrapping job ever and wished I had thought of it.

So there, a brief glimpse into the strange combination of manly man who watched his team play Sunday in appropriate team t-shirt and the man who took me to Kooza Friday night and gave me such a pretty, pretty box.

We were supposed to watch the CBC show Test the Nation: Watch Your Language for fun last night as well, but we were both too zonked. We taped it and have our score cards ready, did any of you watch it and have a friendly competition? He's going down for sure, I am convinced he can't beat me at this game.

*********************
So those are all my random updates for today. Papoosie Girl's dance class starts tonight so we will be on the run this evening. I only allow one evening out a week, beyond that I just don't think I could manage. Swimming is Saturday morning's and Rosebud's dance class is in the afternoon right after school. Am I the only one who thinks this is plenty, one class each and swimming which I don't consider extra-curricular I think of it more of a life skill? I would love to put them both in piano, and brownies, and skating lessons, but I know none of us would enjoy being out five nights a week. I know people who do it though, they have something everyday of the week. Personally, I just could not do it and my kids need their down-time to just unwind and be together.

I feel a little more settled today, like this week is going to unfold a bit better than last week. I love September and can't wait for those crisp mornings, apple picking, and cozy turtlenecks.

09 07 97

2007-09-07T13:00:00.000-04:00

It seems remiss to let this day go by without some kind of blogging words. Today is our 10th Anniversary. Hubby has made plans for us to go out tonight to the Cirque du Soleil show Kooza and out for dinner and the kids are going to Yia Yia's for the night. I actually begged out of (yes, I know I am stupid) the overnight hotel stay, but I am just not up to it tonight. An empty house will be enough, I'm sure for any evening festivities.

I can't say I never thought we would make it here, but still it seems like such an accomplishment. We are both incredibly stubborn sometimes and while I generally back away from conflict, I have gotten pretty comfortable these last 10 years speaking up and loud. It is certainly not all a sitcom around here, well maybe a bit like Seinfeld...you know lots about nothing really; but it is real. This is real life. Kids who are sorta good and sometimes sorta bad and the living breathing incarnation of both of you. They infuriate you and reduce you to tears and you would still jump in front of a bus for them. They are the tangible proof that you, as a couple, really exist. There is no denying the relationship.

It goes without saying that I love my husband. He is my friend and supporter and knows me as well as I know myself. Our time together is approaching fifteen years this fall and at the age of 36 that seems like a lot of years. A lot of memories, a lot of highs and lows and everything in between. I cannot imagine spending my life and sharing my life with anyone else.

It is not all sunshine and rainbows though. It is more like barf and poop and baby wipes most days. I come from a divorced family and no matter how ticked I am it just isn't an option for me to give up, ever. We are in this for the long haul no matter what. We make stupid idle threats sometimes in our most simmering moments, but even those are pretty hollow.

Happy Anniversary Hubby...I know you sneak peeks here! I am a lucky woman and I know it.

Hey Hey From PA

2007-09-03T01:30:00.000-04:00

We just got back from a whirl wind vacation touring the state of Pennsylvania. I am in the process of unpacking and catching up on real life - bleah. I promise to have a lovely post regaling everyone about my travels soon. For now, a taste of our family's version of fun.

For the record, I am not a huge fan of football. I am however, a huge fan of my husband and this was his moment. His love of the Steelers is something I will never quite understand and it goes back to his childhood, but along with his love of Macintosh and Diet Coke it certainly defines him.

He is the smartest person I know and will always beat me in Jeopardy no matter how hard I try to cheat. He is a techie who provides IT support to everyone we know, he is well-read on so many topics it ruins most games - unless you are on his team and he knows more about fine china than I do. He is a strange mix of manly man, techie geek and culture. Instead of just heading to a resort somewhere he wants to show us things and teach us stuff and have fun. He wants to go to museums and sports stadiums and loves to shop! This week is our tenth anniversary so I guess this was a little tribute...thanks honey for 10 great years! I'm still having fun.

In addition to Pittsburgh our trip also included, a trip to Hershey - yum, the Crayola Crayon factory and a trip to Great Wolf Lodge in the Poconos. This vacation was like a giant field trip for us and the girls, at one point someone asked me if I home schooled since I was so busy explaining things to the girls.

Did I mention Pennsylvania has no sales tax on shoes and clothes? Yeah, it was a good trip. More details later I promise. I missed you my blogging friends, I really did. I have many posts to catch up on and I can't wait to see what I missed.

Me only better

2007-08-17T14:10:00.000-04:00

"Every once in a while I'll have one of those days when I've fed the fish, cleaned 10 poops from the patio, taken the cat to the vet, sewn my son's stupid karate stars on until my fingers bleed and made sure that he has everything, and he wakes up and goes, 'Oh, what's for breakfast?' He doesn't know, and why should he? Right?

But there's absolutely no sort of acknowledgment or reward for this -- except for the intangible of my kids growing up to be wonderful people. I do find myself in the garage listening to the NPR because I want to have a stimulating side to my life...The only thing about having kids that I miss is being alone."

This is a quote from Jodie Foster that I read recently. I am not sure why this caught me off guard, but this struck me as so real and honest and coming from someone who could afford a flock of nannies it was reassuringly real. When you see celebrities like Britney Spears who drag their kids all over at all hours you wonder what kind of childhood are they having, what is their normal? I feel sorry for these children who know no better. What is worse is that we watch these children in the media with such gruesome fascination waiting and watching for the fall.

I wonder sometimes if what I am doing is enough. Am I patient enough? Doubtful. Am I compassionate enough? Sometimes, but usually I am quick to want to move on. Am I understanding enough? Usually, then again there are days I am utterly not. Does that make me a bad parent? I like to think, quite smugly, that by comparison to some I am doing a fabulous job. Yeah me! Then there are the days that I am sure I am the worst parent ever. I am selfish and cold and just want to be left alone.

I know I am a good parent on the whole. My girls are testaments to that. So why then are there days that I feel so hopeless and tired and fed-up? Everyone says it is normal, but I feel so guilty about it. Just knowing that there are other people, lots of people who feel the same way makes me feel less crumby.

We have had a few play dates at our house lately. To be honest I am one of those parents who never call you even after exchanging phone numbers and I am rarely the one to initiate it at all. My life is so full already, I just can't imagine adding more into the pot some days. We have got several calls this summer and you can only dodge for so long. This week we had one of Papoosie Girl's classmates over for a play date, a rather long affair as it was a complicated undertaking of schedules and she stayed from 11am-5pm. What I noticed immediately is I am left alone a lot during these days, it was so quiet from my point of view. Yes, I had to feed them and the sort, but I was left alone for long stretches. My laundry got folded in the daylight hours, dishes were washed and I was able to read blogs.

Having another child (who is not my own) in the house made me a better version of myself. More patient, more accommodating and I think more fun. I listened more and was generally a more relaxed me. Do I need surveillance to be a better Mom? I certainly didn't feel under surveillance, but at the same time acutely aware that I don't want this little girl reporting back that I holler all the time either. Why am I not this version all the time for my own kids I kept wondering.

The play date Mom is who I want to try harder to be, this Mom is kind and listens and is engaged just a bit more. Oh, I am entitled to my days of hiding in the bathroom too. I just want to try a bit harder you know?

This makes three

2007-08-16T13:00:00.000-04:00

Papoosie Girl has lost another tooth, I know riveting blog reading. I have no idea why I find this so distressing, just as much as the first two. You wait and watch for those first teeth for months. Any cranky behaviour or lost sleep is accredited to those incoming teeth, "it must be her teeth" you exclaim over and over.

Then then get bigger and they fall out. Just like that it is all over. Kind of like childhood. Pardon me while I puddle on the floor.

Monday Musings - Cue the Loons

2007-08-13T01:15:00.000-04:00

We recently spent a week at a cottage in lovely Haliburton. Not the cottage we rented mind you, or so the story goes. Our friends have a cottage, well it is one of their parents, but for the purpose of this story it was theirs. We have been to this cottage many times and have always enjoyed our days of sunning and swimming, Kawartha Dairy ice cream (Moose tracks - yum!), trips to Robinson's and playing games in the evening. We have only been to the cottage twice though since the girls have been born, our trips have dwindled in that way that only small children can induce.

This year our friends mentioned that the cottage next door could be rented if we were interested. We talked about it and despite knowing that this was not a vacation in the sense of a break from the daily grind of cooking and cleaning - we just moved it North, it was a holiday with friends and was too good to pass up. I have such wonderful memories of the cottage we rented for years in Bobcaygeon, I wanted to give that to my girls, despite my horrible selfishness that screamed, "hotel you fool!" Don't get me wrong, I am not a pampered city-girl who is afraid of a little hard work and good old fashioned nature fun. It is just that Hubby and I are very protective of our vacation time, it is our time to be together just us and to really spend time together. For us that usually means being away from home just the four of us. Hubby works extremely long hours which makes my job long too, we feel strongly that our reconnection as a family comes from our vacations, no matter how short, and our ability to get away from the daily grind and unplug ourselves as well. (Stepping down from soapbox now.)

My childish memories of those weeks at the cottage are not marred by the drudgery of packing, cooking, cleaning, sun screening, dressing, undressing, fetching snacks, fetching drinks and rinsing sand off of nether parts. I really wanted my girls to experience a week of being dirty, playing in the sand for hours, wearing mismatched clothes, looking for minnows, making s'mores, playing with their friends and being free of their mother's neurotic tendencies for a few days.

So it was a deal. We contacted the owner of the cottage, an eighty year old lady who told me not to worry there were two fridges - one for the beer. Our phone calls were always lively to say the least and we were excited about having our own space and being able to spend a week with our dear friends, a win-win so to speak. It turned out though that another set of friends were interested in coming up, so now we would be a group of twelve, six adults and six children. More the merrier I thought, knowing we could retreat to our cottage at at he end of the day for a little family time.

In the time between us renting the cottage and our actual trip the cottage was put up for sale. This didn't seem like a big deal at the time and I was really not worried. When we arrived though the cottage was a little more homey than I might have liked and worse the people who had the cottage before us had a large dog. Every possible surface was covered in dog hair and after an hour of three of us vacuuming we gave up trying to get the hair off of everything. I must admit it was not one of my shining moments and in a rapid series of events I phoned not only the owner of the cottage and the real estate agent (a relative of the owner), I got my money fully refunded and we got to keep the cottage for the week on the condition that the agent could bring people by to see the property. Yeah there were tears too. In the end the agent felt it was only fair since not only was the property for sale, we were going to have people coming to see the cottage all week. Not my idea of a relaxing family vacation.

The issue was not the mouse traps everywhere - dozens, it was all the mouse poop and dog hair all of which would send Papoosie Girl into an asthma attack. The slanted floors, rustic decor, plastic curtains and musty smells were quite "cottagey" and that was charming, the rest was just plain scary. Since our other friends were arriving the day day after us we heading to our friend's cottage next door and decided to think about the rest later. I knew that there was no way we could stay in this cottage, we would have to decide what to do, stay or go home.

Later that evening over tea my friend and I went over the sleeping arrangements and after getting agreement from both our husband's to each take a sofa for the week, we managed to find sleeping arrangements for all twelve people under one roof. This is not a huge cottage, but we managed in the end to all be quite comfortable for the week and I am not going to lie - there were some moments when it felt a bit too cozy, but otherwise it was actually fun.

It was work too though, we spent a lot of time prepping, cooking and cleaning up after ourselves. Our cottage had no hot water (the water tanks were in the process of being replaced) so we lugged many baskets of dishes to the cottage next door to wash them. We kept hot water on the stove for washing hands etc., but for the most part we did dishes and bathed next door. Except the for the guys they bathed in the lake most nights. For real! They would all head into the lake as the sun was setting and they would stay out and talk for up to an hour. Maybe for those of you who are more rugged and camp or have your own canoe and stuff this may not be all that novel, I realize that. For me though, bathing in a lake is not an everyday occurrence or even something that remotely appeals to me. I have too many Jaws issues to get into any body of water after dark.

My Hubby was put on breakfast duty three times for his chocolate chip pancakes and custom omelette's. We ate some wonderful food and so much junk and treats (once the kids were in bed) our nightly ritual was to break out the treats an make a pot of tea and pick a game once the kids were settled for the evening. Games of Trivial Pursuit, Scattegories, 20 Questions and Pictionary would make us laugh so hard I would nearly pee my pants.

I felt a little lost though too. I am used to the four of us being together on vacations and doing lots together, well everything together really. Here I could be in the cottage washing dishes while Hubby was with the girls at the beach and I never really felt we were together for any length of time. Does that sound ungrateful? I don't mean to sound like that, we did have fun and the girls had the best time, I personally felt like we were always doing something different. I think we managed to get into the lake at the same time twice. Sometimes in large crowds I find it hard to feel connected even if the people I want to feel connected to are near me.

So how was the week? It was fun and crazy and crowded. We ate, laughed and got to know each other better. I discovered a sweet, funny and smart little boy in my friend's son. A little boy who asked me everyday to catch him a minnow. We had a lovely lunch on the water in Huntsville to celebrate a birthday. We made s'mores around the campfire, my first ever, and I wasn't the only one - it was the first s'more for several of us. We were sandy, sticky, and washed clean in the fresh cottage air. Each night the loons would cry out after the blazing sun would set right over our lake. There was a moment one evening when the kids were asleep and the grown-ups were sitting around the table getting ready for our nightly games, a moment that almost seemed too perfect. Cue the sunset in all it's blazing glory of orange rippling on our lake and cue the loons with their haunting song. I try hard to live and be in the moment, something I rarely achieve, but here for a moment I was in the moment, a moment so perfect it seemed years and years in the making.

We are going away again at the end of the month a seven day road trip across Pennsylvania...with visits to Pittsburgh, Hershey, Easton and the Poconos. More details later on this though. It will be just the four of us and we are so excited about our trip.

It was hard to find pictures without all the other kids in them. Rosebud would actually nap herself and grab her pillow, blanket and "plugs" each afternoon and fall asleep herself on the sofa no matter what was going on in the cottage. The other little napper was faking though and the little guy beside the couch would steal her "plugs" right out of her mouth as soon as she fell asleep! The shot with Rosebud in the air is one of my faves' and yes Daddy would catch her. Papoosie Girl ate three s'mores and begged for another. It really was a good week, Mommy is such a frump!

Time Flies

2007-07-25T17:15:00.000-04:00

Time really does fly when you are trying get ahead or say pack for a week at a cottage. As real day -to-day life charges ahead I am trying to pack up our entire house so I can enjoy my relaxing ~~week off~~ week of being a wilderness chambermaid. We are in the process, well mostly I am in the process of getting us ready for a week up North in the lovely Haliburton hills of cottage country.

Note: Not to actual scale, or remotely reminiscent of the cottage I will be actually staying in. I can dream right?

Our friends have a cottage (parents do anyway) and we are renting the cottage next door for the first time. We have never stayed for entire week and this seemed like it would give us a bit of breathing space. As it turns out another couple and their two children are coming up and staying with our friends so their cottage will be pretty cozy.

I have such wonderful memories of going to the cottage as a child. We rented at the same place for years and years in Bobcaygeon and while debating this week up North I kept coming back to my own happy cottage memories. Campfires, walking to town, the little tuck shop and the long freezies, catching my first fish by accident after getting tired of waiting for a fish, I stuck my rod in a crack in the dock and walked away. I came back an hour later to find the smallest Sunfish on my hook. We would play all day while our parents drank big pitchers of Caesar's, I remember barbecuing in the rain and the trips to Fenelon Falls when we were all sick of each other.

So as I look at my front hall and my list and shake my head, I know my girls are going to have a fantastic week. We will relax, not look at the clock, spend time doing nothing, make s'mores around the campfire, play games and make wonderful cottage memories for our girls. To be honest I am not much of a wilderness gal and camping is not my style at all. I just prefer the comforts of indoor plumbing and walls between me and the great outdoors. The cottage is a good compromise between my hotel tendencies and my desire to be at one with nature. I love nature, I love hikes, sunsets, mountains, oceans, all of it. At the end of the day though I love a hot shower and soft bed a bit more I guess. I like having both - call me selfish.

I have not been around much this week (no Monday Musing!) and likely won't be back blogging for a few weeks.

The only thing that makes me more anxious than packing up all this stuff is the idea of unpacking it again in a week.

How life unfolds

2007-07-18T15:00:00.000-04:00

It occurred to me the other day that my blog represents or perhaps more than represents; it is documenting how my life is unfolding. My voice booms loud and clear here, even on the days it barely whispers in the real world. Here I am strong, opinionated and occasionally bright and insightful. I don't need to take two Advils here as often as in my real life, but isn't this a part of my real life? I think I need that Advil.

In my real life I do not talk much (hardly at all) about my feelings of grief or loss. Once I write about these feelings they float a little higher from my body, they hurt less. My writing and blog are a wonderful tonic for my less than joyous feelings.

So in addition to the many wonderful bloggers I have met through their blogs and wonderful stories, it has been so helpful to my own story. I have been able to write about feelings that had been bottled up for a long time. To talk about my quirks and beliefs in a place I know I am not judged.

I have done the Meme's and answered all the questions about what blogging means to me and how it all started and I guess what interests me more now is where is it going? How is this going to unfold, or keep unfolding? Am I going to tire of this (I doubt it) or am I going to not be able to think of things to write about?

I find folding laundry a very satisfying job, actually laundry in general is something I kind of enjoy. It is tactile, it is so predictable - starts off dirty and ends up clean. It is something I don't really mind doing. I usually save my laundry folding for evening and fold while watching some bad TV, I figure the productivity of one cancels out the brain numbing effect of the other. The unfolding of life is not nearly as satisfying though sometimes. You plan it all out and make it clean and then poof, someone dumps your nicely folded basket on the floor.

I just took the book out of the library, Stumbling on Happiness, and while I have barely cracked it open I am already thinking about it. Am I strange for thinking laundry can make me happy?

Below is a quote from the review by Malcolm Gladwell, the author of The Tipping Point and Blink.

Stumbling on Happiness is a book about a very simple but powerful idea. What distinguishes us as human beings from other animals is our ability to predict the future--or rather, our interest in predicting the future. We spend a great deal of our waking life imagining what it would be like to be this way or that way, or to do this or that, or taste or buy or experience some state or feeling or thing. We do that for good reasons: it is what allows us to shape our life. And it is by trying to exert some control over our futures that we attempt to be happy. But by any objective measure, we are really bad at that predictive function. We're terrible at knowing how we will feel a day or a month or year from now, and even worse at knowing what will and will not bring us that cherished happiness. Gilbert sets out to figure what that's so: why we are so terrible at something that would seem to be so extraordinarily important?

********
Clearly finding out not only what makes us happy but, why it makes us happy is important business. I must say my curiosity is peaked and I will probably read this book cover to cover. So far my life is unfolding in way that makes me happy. I have a loving, happy, and healthy family. We have a nice home, jobs, cars, security - all the things we seek out to create our happiness. The book opens with a line about what would you do if you had 10 minutes to live, would you do what you are doing right now? Duh, no I wouldn't, but rarely in life are you faced with such a scenario. You hear of people traveling to special places as their last wish or trying something new, or just spending time with family. Posting a blog entry I doubt it, but does that make the happiness I get from doing this any less valid?

I think things are unfolding just fine, but for good measure I will read the book anyway. You can never have too much happiness.

Monday Musings - Beautiful and Sad

2007-07-16T00:00:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was my brother's wedding and it was a wonderful day. The bride was radiant and my brother made a dashing groom. They are a well-matched, lively and creative couple who complement each other in every way. We got rained on, but other than that the day was lovely. The day is still in many ways a jumble of emotions for me. My feelings about my Dad, seeing cousins I had not seen in 11 years, seeing family friends who knew me as a child and now are shocked to see me with children, the fact that my brother thanked every member of the wedding party, the bride's family and his family - but forgot me and my family. The girls felt a little left out too and that hurt more. The bride was busy with all her girls and family members rushing about, we were in the house ages before we were acknowledged. This is the frenzy of getting ready for a wedding, but for my little girls all primped and ready to be oohed and aahed over it was a bit sad. We did eventually get to the see the bride and all was well after a few pictures and minutes posing with the bride.

There was however, no mention in any of the speeches of me, Hubby or the girls. Am I smarting? Yup. Many people noticed and have commented, I mean we sat at the prime table with his Mom and grandparents. I am sure it was not intentional, but I felt so left out. We worked so hard to prepare for this day and prepare the girls. This is still a little raw and I am sure a perspective will be gained further along the way, but my heart broke a bit when he reached the end of his speech and thanked or mentioned everyone else but us. The bride and groom both loved the slide show we put together with all their baby pictures and current pictures set to music, they were both in tears and told us so, and I know they loved it, I really do. I thought they might mention that at least, but no luck.

They both hugged us and told us how happy they were to have us there throughout the night, I know that is really all the thanks I need. I guess that shout-out meant more to me than I thought. Why is it that knowing you are loved and special and valued is so much different than being told so, is that why we blog then - why I blog - to be told over and over that I matter?

Maybe I was expecting too much. I did not have a say in how my family evolved. My parents divorced when I was a child, both remarried, my Mom would remarry for a third time. My father had two more children and while I love them fiercely maybe you cannot forge a bond that just isn't there in that deep, complicated way living together your whole life gives you. After my father died I made a promise to myself to keep the ties strong with my brother, sister and Step-mother. They are a link to him that no one else has with me. They belonged to him just as much as I did. Without him though, we are left to forge and flounder and find a way to remain a family.

Was this most likely a completely unintentional over-sight of the bride and groom during stressed out moments of cobbling together a speech the night before (knowing my brother), yes probably. Do I have any right to feel so sad over this? That remains to be seen. I certainly do not want them to know how I feel, since I think that this is one of those things that looms large in the forefront of your mind and eventually settles a bit further back day by day until you cannot remember why you were so upset in the first place.

I have got myself out of bed to write out elaborate responses to situations only to tear them up upon the light of day, I know this is one of those cases. My heart is hurt - my ego maybe more; and it smarts, it really does. I feel better already sharing this out loud, the words before me make it less so somehow.

And on to the beautiful.

The girls looked liked angels and behaved so well it was actually a very easy day despite the hectic pace and long hours. They walked up the aisle right on cue and sat on the alter steps for the entire 45 minute ceremony, they were so, so good. Many people came up to me throughout the day (and night) to tell me what pleasure they were to be around all day. Most of the other children ran wildly about and while no one seemed to mind, and they didn't disrupt anything really, it was just really clear that our girls were not behaving like the other kids.

This was a bit of a dilemma for me. I often wonder if we are too hard on the girls or if our expectations are too high. The girls did not have one meltdown or tantrum all day, the only hitch was that at some point Rosebud just wasn't interested in smiling for anymore photos so I promised we would go somewhere special as a reward for all her hard work as a flower girl. We are going to the chosen indoor play land tomorrow, a deal is a deal. They ate their meals and were generally such good company I could see a glimpse of the future where our time spent together is less about wrangling the girls and more about being with the girls.

Omaha Mama made some good points on the fine lines and slippery slopes of good behaviour, attentive parenting and kids being kids. This topic makes its round around the blogosphere every so often. I certainly did not tell my girls they could not have fun or run around. I prepared them for the day by explaining the church is God's house just as always and even though it is a fun occasion it is a special day and we must behave like special guests.

During the dinner the DJ had to ask the children tearing around the dance floor to take their seats after several near misses with the servers carrying huge trays of food. Several parents took their kids outside to run in the lobby area, rather than fight them into their chairs. Rosebud eventually fell asleep on my lap and was transferred to her stroller for the remainder of the evening. Papoosie Girl stayed up until 11:30pm dancing with her Dad and three grandmothers, until 11:30pm when she suddenly declared she was tired and needed to go to bed. My sister-in-law took the girls home for us so we could stay a bit later.

We approached the day with the attitude that we would try everything accordingly to the schedule and just see how things went. We started our day at the hair dressers at 7:45am, went to the bride's house for photos, the church, the park for photos, the hall for more photos and the reception. I never imagined it could go this smoothly and I wonder if all the stars and moons aligned for this one perfect day? A day so perfect we keep looking at each other to confirm it really went so well.

Weddings can bring out emotions you forgot were lurking about. Beck blogged about this very thing tonight as well. Seeing family you have not seen in a long time. These people are your flesh and blood, look like you and share a common bond, yet are strangers. You make promises to see each other more often under less orchestrated circumstances knowing that it will not happen, even though you really mean it at the time. I discovered that myself and two of my first cousins gave our children the same middle name, our maiden name in fact. Life goes on and the new family you have created becomes the focus, the object blocking the rest of the view finder.

I know my brother loves me. I know this is and it has it been a complicated and delicate dance of being family and siblings, while never having the opportunity to live together. None of us chose this path, not him, not me and not my sister. We are all family though and will continue to love each other, our captain is gone, but we sail along none-the-less. I wished every Christmas for a brother or sister and was lucky to get one of each.

I truly am grateful to be a part of his special day, he has grown into a wonderful man and his bride is a treasure. It was not a day to be all about me or my feelings and I so get that. You cannot prepare your heart for such day however, it is not quite as tidy as dress fittings or searching for the perfect shoes. So enough whining.

In case I have thoroughly depressed and or bored you with the ticker tape of neurosis that resides in my head, I offer another dose of extreme cuteness. Being flower girls was the thrill of a lifetime for the girls, it really was, and I am so thankful that they were asked.

A Baby Story - Baby 1 - Part 2

2007-07-11T14:25:00.000-04:00

So where were we...right, it was about 3:30am, I was leaking something pinkish, I am a month away from my due date on December 28, 2000.

While Hubby goes to find the phone number for the hospital I pull out a bag. We have not yet had our appointment where we get all this information in a nice neat package. We called the main line and after some garbled ramblings about being pregnant, a month early and leaking we are transferred to Labour and Delivery. I am told I am probably leaking amniotic fluid and thus my water has indeed broken. They are very concerned about the colour which I assure them is not brown only pinky/red. The nurse checks my file and tells me I am about 3-4 days away from being full-term, therefore I am in preterm labour, which sounds very, very, scary when they tell you this over the phone. The nurse tells us to get to the hospital right away, um can I have a shower I ask? The answer is yes, if I don't dawdle, they would like me at the hospital within the hour.

A shower you might think? A girl has plans for her birth you know? Everything taken care of, shaved, prepped, polished and the like. Let's just say it was a hasty preparation. After my quick shower and blow-dry I get dressed. I am leaking still, but a pad seems to do the job fine for now. Now we need to pack the bag, which Hubby starts while I am in the shower - his biggest worry is the stopwatch.

The stopwatch was prominently featured in our childbirth classes, it was important to time the contractions and keep track of everything. He searched and searched and could not find it, much to his dismay. It meant nothing that I wasn't even having contractions, at best I could be described as slightly crampy or perhaps that was cranky. We manage to pack a bag with my must have item - lip balm, I cannot live without lip balm. I love the stuff. We get downstairs and it is about 4am or so and Hubby stops me in the doorway to take a photo, I even look happy.

As we getting in the car, my seat protected with a green garbage bag - I don't know what I thought would happen on the car ride, Hubby informs me we need gas - we are on empty. Huh?! It is 4am I am in labour or something like it and we need to stop for diesel. And so we did. This made me edgy, didn't Hubby pay attention in class, you must have a full tank of gas at all times!

We parked and found our way up to Labour and Delivery with little fuss, with our bags and pillows in tow. I was put into an assessment room with one other woman who was groaning so loudly. I mentioned to the nurse that the baby had been breech about six days at my last appointment when she could not find the heartbeat where it was supposed to be. Right away, I was taking off my nail polish which I don't normally wear, but had put some on at Christmas. Next I was signing all kinds of forms and the words emergency c-section were said somewhere. While I know I was not panicked there was an intensity to this moment that was very palpable.

You might laugh, but the next thing did was check me, you know down there, internally. It was my first internal examination of my entire pregnancy and after declaring I was, "tighter than a steel drum" and not effaced or thinned out at all, I was sent for an ultrasound to confirm where the baby was heading. I remember telling the doctor I was breech just a few days earlier, let's just say he was not in the mood for my assessment. When he told me the baby was indeed head down I was shocked. I had thought I felt the baby turn, but wasn't really sure. It was such a roller coaster of thinking I might have to have a c-section, being terrified, accepting it, and then going through the process all over again when I realized I was going to be pushing this baby out.

One of the most difficult moments of my entire labour happened during this assessment. The nurse told me that since the baby was preterm he/she would have to stay in the hospital while I went home...that the baby might be sick and would have to stay in the nursery while I went home. I am sure she was just trying to prepare me, but it cast a shadow on the labour that never really lifted. I was scared already and even though my assigned nurse was great and reassured me that the baby was going to be fine, those first words stuck with me.

By about 6am we were settled in our large, pink, room (a sign!) equipped with all the necessities like a big TV. I was told I would have to be put on Pitocin since I was not quite in labour despite my water breaking I was not having any real contractions, it was important to get things moving. They started all the IV's and the massive bruise on my arm lingered for weeks where the nurse could not get it in right.

We were settled, I was feeling fine, no pain yet and the TV was on for Hubby to watch a little news. I waited until about 8:30am to call my Mom (she was working that day) and tell her I was at the hospital, despite me assuring her I was fine she left work and came to the hospital around noon. I had never discussed with Hubby who (if anyone) would be present at the birth of our baby, I think it was just unspoken that it would be us only. I am a very private person, I once yelled at a doctor as a child for lifting up my shirt.

We also phoned my in-laws and my best friend. My best friend (we met in Grade 9 and while very different in personality, love each other like sisters) was home and her Hubby was out skiing with his brother and she decided to come by and arrived around 2pm. Her initial reaction to the call from Hubby was "yeah right" she had seen me the night before at the Nutcracker, she thought it was a joke...it was the crepes he told her. In fact, all the phone calls we made to tell people we were having or had the baby were met with similar reactions. Several people flat out didn't believe him at all. I would have to take the phone to make them believe it.

The day passed slowly I remember, but when I think of what I might have done for all those hours I cannot think of a single thing. I was not allowed out the bed since I was on the Pictocin, I did not pack cards or games, I was not allowed to eat anything, I just remember my Mom, Hubby and my friend sitting by the edge of my bed in a very reassuring way. I was mad I couldn't use the tub, I had been imagining my labour taking place in the tub and thought of it as a magical place to labour, I never made it to the tub the second time either. Er.

By early afternoon I was still one centimetre despite the increasing Pitocin coursing through me for hours. I was getting uncomfortable, but was still not in enough pain to get the epidural. My lovely nurse, Caroline kept telling me that Pictocin causes a very intense labour and to not be so stubborn to not say when I might need it. By the time I realized I needed it and could not cope, I was having back labour and contractions minutes apart. They made everyone - including Hubby leave to do the epidural which upset me greatly. It hurt like hell of course, but once it was done I felt a bit better knowing that I would feel better soon. That however, never happened, it did not work as it was supposed to, I could still feel everything. We waited and waited, then they "topped me up" directly into the line. Nothing. My option was to stay as it or try it again. Hubby says he heard me scream done the hall while they pulled it out and did it again. Thankfully, the second time it worked and I was numb in no time.

By about 3pm I was still one centimetre or so and had had a few scary moments when the baby's heartbeat dropped suddenly. Out of nowhere, nurses rushed in and put a mask over my face, furiously checking the papers spewing out of the machines. For most of the day up until that point, my nurse would come and go checking on me and the papers with little fanfare. My nurse kept saying over and over how this must be a boy because she would constantly lose the heartbeat with the fetal belt around my belly. Over and over she would readjust the belt and faithfully the baby would wiggle away. It drove her crazy. Something that drove me crazy was the blood pressure cuff that went off automatically every 15 minutes. In the middle of pushing I demanded it be removed, it was bothering me more than pushing.

When the doctor would check me every few hours it would always be the same, I was getting thinner and the baby was moving down, but I was not dilating. When the heartbeat dropped for the second time they consulted about what to do next. They decided to "Pit past it" which I think meant that if it happened again after increasing the Pictocin one more time I would have to consider a c-section. Thankfully that didn't happen again. I was told at some point that there would be several people in the room for the delivery, the baby would have his/her own nurse and doctor and there was a special warming table moved into the end of my room. I was warned the baby would be taken to the Special Care Nursery for assessment and I may not even get to hold the baby depending on how things were...

By 6pm Hubby was starving so he left to grab some food. I think my Mom and friend did come and go and had grabbed coffees and food at some point. Right after he left the doctor came to check me and I was finally dilated, I was 10 centimetres and there was just a tiny edge left and soon I would be able to push! Uh, where is Hubby? Bring him back now!! My Mom goes to find him and he returns (food uneaten) just as I am giving the nurse a practice push, just to see how I can do it, in her words. What happens next is pretty quick. It is about 6:30pm, I am showing the nurse my great pushing skills when she tells me to stop pushing and I hear the doctor being paged to our room. At some point I am put into the stirrups, they are asking me who is staying in the room - they only wanted two people in the room so my friend leaves, which freaks me out. I don't want anyone to leave me, I want them all there. No dice, so she watches from the hall. My Mom and Hubby are by my side, something I never imagined was having my mother in the delivery room, that is just not me, yet somehow it was exactly as it was meant to be.

I remember demanding the cuff be removed (in the photos though it appears to be still on after the birth so perhaps I only imagined they took it off), I remember the oxygen mask put on my face, and mostly I remember Hubby right in my face talking to me and telling me to listen to him and I remember hearing lots of voices, but it was like they were floating in the air far away from my ears. Between 6:30pm and 7:01pm when Papoosie Girl was born was a blur in a way. I was not trying to push, it was like my body took over, and even though they were telling me to, "blow it away" my body just did what it was supposed to do. Her head was out before the doctor arrived and I think I may have pushed about 6 or 7 times. She came out very quickly, which I paid for in the form of many, many stitches.

Since this was somewhat of a high-risk delivery, we did not cut the cord and she was given to me very briefly. They took her to the end of the room in the warmer and told us she seemed fine and wasn't even that small (she was 6lbs, 7oz's), but they had to take her to the Special Care Nursery for a more thorough assessment. I got to hold her for about a minute and while I sometimes wished for those early bonding moments I really was in no shape for much at that moment. Hubby stayed with me initially while my Mom followed the baby, my friend had immediately bee-lined into the room once the baby was born and took our first photos. I sent Hubby to see the baby and my friend remained by my side during the less than delicate after-birth part of labour.

There was lots of blood, that I remember and the stitches took nearly an hour. My friend held my hand during the entire hour and regaled me with stories about her co-workers to distract me. At one point the doctor asks, "is she a vegetarian?" to which she replied no. The doctor never addressed me directly and was complaining about my poor tissue quality and was wondering if I was a vegetarian, I piped up that I did have low iron and I don't think she answered me. Later when the epidural had worn off and I was literally lifting off the bed, they gave me a shot of local anesthesia - ouch! At some point I asked when this was going to be done, a voice came up from the bottom of the bed, "I will be done when I am done." To be fair this doctor came by room the next day to apologize for being so terse, she told me later that I was so bad she was very worried I might need more than what she could do, she had done over 50 stitches. I was thankful she was so concerned if not personable. I do not know what I would have done if my friend had not been with me, she saved me at that moment.

During our hospital tour we stood outside the door to the Special Care Nursery. I remember kind of zoning out as they talked about the various scenarios for which you might require the nursery. There were pregnant women all around walking, being wheeled, on beds going by, some with babies, some still in labour and I was totally distracted by it all. When were initially told our baby would be going to the nursery I remember thinking I was being punished for not paying closer attention on the tour. Stupid I know, but I felt so guilty about that after delivery that I practically memorized the brochure they gave me.

Hubby gave me a present right after Papoosie Girl was born and off in the nursery with Nana. He had the idea to present me with a special gift right after the birth, a keepsake of this momentous occasion. He forgot the present in our haste to leave the house and had his parents bring it to the hospital, which I found out about much later.

It was a tough delivery in so many ways, but of course it ended with a healthy, beautiful baby girl we loved and loved as if she was always a part of us. She was not allowed to room with me since she was quite jaundice and needed to be hooked up the "Bili" blanket all the time. The SCN staff were wonderful and Papoosie Girl was assigned a nurse every 12 hours and we had complete access whenever we wanted. I could call or visit anytime. It took me until the afternoon before I could walk down there the next day, after sitting on a rubber glove full of ice all night.

She was our special little angel and always managed to get out her hand to put it on her face...she still sleeps like this sometimes.

********
That is the end of this story. the only other important information and maybe those of you who had babies around the same time have picked up on it. I was planning on taking a one year maternity leave as the legislation was changing from six months to one year at midnight December 31, 2000. At some point during labour we realized I was not going to get the one year leave, it didn't matter when you were due, it mattered when the baby was born. Not a high concern when you are in the middle of labour, but let me tell you I cursed that little monkey quite a bit after. I was three days shy of getting an extra six months of maternity leave. I ended up taking off eight months in total, the last two months with no benefits.

We went home on New Year's Eve 2000 and I remember asking the nurse what would happen if someone was pushing right near midnight? I mean one push either way and you are out six months with your baby! She told me it really would not be a factor, the health of everyone, blah, blah, blah. Let me tell you, I bet a lot of babies were born at 12:01 am that night.

I will take a little birthing break before I recount the one or two paragraphs my planned c-section with Rosebud will take. She deserves her moment though no matter how orchestrated it was. It was still special and all that, just not as riveting. Well, there was the problem of no name up until the night before, that was fun.

I love reading about other birth stories, mostly because mine were so different, none of the hewing and hawing, cursing or hours of pacing and pushing. I guess they are all different no matter which way it goes. A birth is a miracle each and every time. I was so lucky to be in the delivery room for both of my godchildren - the friend who held my hand, her kids. I was able to witness it in such a way that I could never have with my own girls. It was so moving and special to witness a baby coming into this world, such a high I could barely sleep both times. She is pregnant with her third child and if I am invited I will try to be there again. I have no idea if I will make it to the delivery room again, I can't even think about it right now. It makes me too sad to think it is all over.

Tell me your story! Now it is your turn.

A Baby Story - Baby 1 - Part 1

2007-07-09T23:45:00.000-04:00

I have been inspired by the birth story of Miss Baby that Mimi recounted with such wonderful detail and suspense! I have decided that I should do the same thing for Papoosie Girl and Rosebud and while I have alluded to some of the details here and there, now is the time for an official documentation of the wild and wonderful births of my daughters. How the best laid plans fall to the ground while the magic and force of childbirth take over. My births could not be more different, but in the end I got the same thing, a blessing in the form of a daughter in a magical moment that is burned into my heart forever.

Setting the stage

While pregnant with Papoosie Girl, a planned pregnancy following a miscarriage, we were ecstatic. After being married for two and a half years we felt ready to start our family and got pregnant easily on the first month of trying (actually that happened each time I got pregnant), much to Hubby's chagrin, shouldn't we have to try for months he would complain. We told our families on July 1, 2000 which not only was Canada Day it is my Hubby's Name Day so we invited everyone over for a BBQ and put the following sign on a borrowed highchair and didn't say a word, just let everyone figure it out. It was a wonderful day. I have searched high and low for the photos from that day and they remain missing for the moment. The sign has been in Papoosie Girl's keepsake box all this time and I am so glad we kept it. Another sign this was not meant to be was that first version Hubby brought home he mistakenly typed 2000 instead of 2001 and he had to make another one. Our baby was determined to make an early entrance it seemed.

I have a small confession in that I told my Mom ( just my Mom I swear!) the weekend before and there is a photo of the two of us right after I told her that I didn't know was taken. We are both beaming.

I was suffering morning sickness quite badly and was losing a lot of weight, about 15 pounds in total, I would later gain back about 9 pounds. I would constantly joke it was the best diet I was ever on. By about 10 weeks I was getting nervous and even though I knew my dates my doctor ordered an early ultrasound to officially date the pregnancy - although I think he ordered it so I would stop all the questions about how can a baby grow when all I do is throw up and why am I losing all this weight?

At 10 weeks we got our first glimpse of Papoosie Girl (who for the record I knew was a girl all along, either that or I willed it) and she was a delightful tadpole with a tiny black speck of a heart, a heart that was beating strongly right into my own.

Moving along

Things progressed along and by about four months I was much less sick, but still was hyper-sensitive to smells and was eating a very unhealthy diet. I basically could eat things that were white which included, white bread, Arrowroot cookies, poutine (from Harvey's), yoghurt, and grilled cheese. It was the most unhealthy and disgusting diet I have ever followed, what I ate was directly controlled by what it smelled or looked like. Hubby could not eat in front of me at all and the sight of meat in any form would make me ill. Grocery stores became toxic pits of nasty smells and any food smell sent me over the edge.

A friend later told me she knew I was pregnant when we went to The Keg and I ordered a plain baked potato for dinner. The only good thing I ate really was what I drank, and that was lots of milk. I would anguish over the What To Do if You are a Good Person and Pregnant books and the phrase, "making every bite count" haunted me. By about four and a half months I was at least looking pregnant and starting to wear maternity clothes that were hanging in my closest taunting me. I remember the first time I wore maternity clothes it was an August evening and we went to the movies, I could not believe everyone was going about their business, could they not see I WAS PREGNANT AND WEARING MATERNITY CLOTHES!

Throughout this time of nausea and losing weight my doctors were never concerned at all. It took longer to find a parking space, go up the elevator, check-in and wait than any of my appointments lasted. Each month I would lose more weight and each month I would ask in a scared voice, how can the baby be growing? I was always assured the baby was growing just fine. I am quite sure that unless I was lying in a pool of blood, holding one of my own limbs, I would have gotten the same trite responses to any question I asked, " that happens during pregnancy" they would tell me. After about 6 months of constant weight loss Hubby was getting concerned, perhaps I was asking the wrong questions he would suggest helpfully. So at my 6 month check-up I laid it on the line, please doctor tell me what is wrong. After thinking for about a minute this was her reply; " if you were skinny we would be worried." I left the appointment and phoned Hubby, everything is fine with the baby I told him and the doctor just called me fat! It is true I am not a skinny girl, but I was not enormous either, at any rate, I had lots of reserves so no problem losing the weight. Phew.

By about November I was starting to not feel well, although putting a finger on it exactly was difficult and my OB/GYN was never interested or concerned about my feelings. While I was not sick exactly I just felt off. They would assure me it was hormones, and I was tired and all that was true, but this was different. Work was stressing me out and while I worked in a very stressful and busy job, it was not new to me and I could handle it normally quite easily. By mid-November I was dumped another huge project with no assistance or support. In a rather dramatic move I left the office one day and headed to my family doctor and spilled everything. He told me I had a choice and that was to keep going or to leave work now. While he was never really alarmed he knows me well enough to know when I have had enough and that I know my body and my body was speaking to me loud and clear.

I returned to work the next morning to tell my boss I was leaving work early on medical advice and this was my last day of work. To this day I am not sure what was really wrong with me, which I am sure sounds strange. My short-term disability which I was approved for was labeled as Anxiety/Pre-Natal Depression (if memory serves me correctly) and I am grateful I worked for a company with such benefits. I remember talking to the benefit person I was assigned and telling her quite frankly that I wasn't interested in spelling out a huge case for my benefits, if my documentation was not enough I was not going back and they could just cancel my pay. I was in a place mentally that I have never been before, a place where instinct to protect my unborn child and my own sanity took over. I remember the benefit person being surprised at my candor and telling me a story of her own sister's anxious pregnancy - I was approved without any other questions.

I stopped working the last week of November and at the time my January 27, 2001 due date seemed safely far away. I had a surprise shower to keep me busy, then there was Christmas to get ready for and a special New Year's Eve - it was the year 2000 and we planned to go out for dinner and a movie with our friends that night. What is funny now while I am reliving and remembering, that so many signs were there for me to figure out something was happening - I just didn't have clue what I would have been looking for at the time.

My entire pregnancy the baby was breech at all of my check-ups, but also still small enough to move around a lot. The baby was not in "position" at what would be my final check-up on December 21, and the doctor told me that we would have to talk about options at my next appointment the first week of January. I was terrified about the prospect of a c-section, but I also knew that I had a month to go and the baby still had time to get into position.

Christmas Day was busy and hectic and we did more visiting on Boxing Day. I remember thinking I felt funny on Boxing Day and while I couldn't really put an actual reason to it, I knew I felt funny. We headed out on the 27th to buy a new camera at Henry's, we were getting it as a Christmas present to ourselves before the baby came. That night we were looking forward (well, the girls were anyway) to seeing the Nutcracker and for dinner at Le Papillon for crepes.

We finished our shopping and got ready to pick up our friends. We drove and we all piled into our Volkswagen Golf diesel that we drove at the time. About ten minutes into the Nutcracker both of the guys were dosing and while the show was spectacular I was so distracted. Right before the intermission I felt some movements so huge I nearly had to leave my seat. I am quite certain now that the baby turned and that turning somehow broke my water. We finish out the Nutcracker and head to dinner. The crepes were delicious and I was feeling strange, but again could not really come up with a concrete reason why, so I kept quiet. The discussion of course made it's way to the upcoming arrival and the fact that I had not yet packed my bag. I remember saying, "I have plenty of time, the baby is not due for another month" little did I know I would be packing one in a matter of hours. I have not eaten crepes since that night. I am aware that they could not possibly cause early labour, but I take no chances - even when obviously not even pregnant.

Dinner was finished and we drove home around 11pm that night. We dropped off our friends and headed home. I was showered and in bed by midnight and fell quickly asleep. I awoke at about 3am to go pee, since the bathroom is attached to our bedroom and the door is about three feet from my side of the bed I rarely put the light on or put on my glasses. After a quick pee I washed my hands and got a drink of water. As I was standing at the sink running the water to get a bit colder, warm water started to drip down my legs. Sleepy, disoriented and in the dark I thought I was still peeing. I quickly put on the light and grabbed my glasses and in those moments of confusion I was standing on our bathroom carpet which is blue so I was unaware of the colour of my pee that I thought was dripping down my legs.

After getting my glasses from the night table I noticed that the pee was not exactly a normal colour, it was pink. Pink drips covered my bathroom floor, in that moment I remember thinking what could this be? At that moment I still did not figure out this could be my water breaking. They say that time stands still during certain moments of your life. At 3am on December 28, 2000 I stood in my bathroom alone wondering for a moment what was happening to me. I woke up Hubby with the delicate and touching words, "I'm leaking" we were both in the bathroom when we decided this must be my water breaking despite being a month away from my due date and no apparent signs of labour. No huge whoosh of water like in the movies, no hee hee haw breathing during contractions, just pink drops and two people who had no idea where this night would lead.

Here is where the story ends for today....I am having such fun recalling all these moments, but I am worried the minute I hit Publish I will remember something else. How did Mimi do it?

Stay tuned.

Flower Girls

2007-07-06T13:35:00.000-04:00

My brother is getting married next weekend. Both the girls are flower girls, their first time and they are practically bursting with excitement. We have been to many dress fittings and related getting ready for a wedding errands. Tonight is the wedding rehearsal at 7:30pm at the Church, a time that normally would be filled with nice, quiet activities before bed. I fear going out to something so thrilling at bedtime may bring on a level of excited behaviour I am frankly not up for tonight.

After the rehearsal is dinner, which we may or may not attend. It is being held at my Step-Mom's house - my brother's Mom - the back story being my Dad and Mom divorced when I was quite young. My Dad remarried and had two more children, the elder, my brother is getting married next weekend. My Dad has since passed away, 11 years ago this August, he was 48 years old.

She lives about 30 minutes away from the Church so we may pass since this means the party will be starting around 9pm, and while I feel bad, it is just so late for the girls and to top it off it is another 30-40 minute drive back to our house after the party.

Rosebud has been fighting a cold for the last few days and I just want her to get all the rest she can this weekend. This wedding while we are involved we are not. It is just one of those things. The bride has a huge and involved family who are really handling everything well, not to mention her sister, cousins and countless friends. While we picked the dresses for the girls together the rest has really been all me. Deciding on their shoes, hairstyle, etc. has been fun in an exhausting kind of way. It is strange to be a part of the wedding and so much on the outside, odd somehow.

Hubby and I have also prepared the slide show for the wedding, all of their baby pictures and together pictures set to music all thanks to Hubby's talents in iMovie (I think?) anyway it is so amazing and quite a tear-jerker. No one has seen it except my sister and my Mom so I am really excited to show this off at the wedding. We never did anything like this for our wedding and I kind of wish we did, I guess it wasn't the rage ten years ago.

This wedding while a fun distraction and joyous event is bringing to the surface many, many wishes and regrets. My Dad should be here to see this, to set everyone straight, to witness his second eldest getting married. I think by now everyone thinks, while this was a tragedy, you really should have moved on by now. And I have in many ways. This wedding though is different, my babies will walk down the aisle so proud and my heart will be leaping with a million bounces of joy and be breaking into a million shards of sorrow too. I am so happy both my Mother and her husband and my in-laws will be there to see the spectacle. I want the girls to know they are loved by so many people and their circle of family may not be conventional (my Mom is attending my brother's wedding) it is full of love for them. They have three "Grandma's" and they love them all. They are lucky girls for sure. I just wish that providence saw to it that we were just a tiny bit luckier. That would have been something. Of course, even saying this out loud makes me want to knock on everything, in hopes that God knows how truly and grateful and blessed I feel. I am blessed, I know that, my heart just needs convincing sometimes.

Monday Musings - Just the Facts (and a few Habits)

2007-07-02T00:20:00.000-04:00

That sweetie Beck tagged me for this meme which I have sort of done before, it was weird things about me. This meme is about facts and habits, so here goes.

No, not these Facts....

Here are the rules:

A. Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. Will do.

B. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. OK

C. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Not going to happen, everyone I know has been tagged.

8 Things About Me ~~You Don’t Really Care About~~ You Need to Know:

1) Habit - If I am doing more than one load of laundry during the day I sort the items by person as they come out of the dryer to make folding faster. I use three baskets, one for each girl and one for us. If I have towels I use another basket for them.

2) Fact - I have no tattoos, but my ears are double-pierced. I have not put earrings in the second holes in years. Want more? I did the second myself with an ice cube and sewing needle. This is true, I swear. It is also true that it usually took about three nurses to hold me to get a needle as a child.

3) Habit - I try to touch papers once, a habit I learned in my past office life. I either make a note, file it, or recycle it after I receive it. This doesn't explain all the things on my cork board in the kitchen, but it sure sounds good. Actually, the cork board is usually full of appointment cards or invitations, full of helpful maps and registry cards.

4) Fact - My middle name is Ann, without the "e". I have always wanted that "e" just like a certain Miss Shirley.

5) Habit - I never go to bed with dirty dishes. I cannot relax for the evening until my kitchen is clean. Other chores can wait, not the kitchen.

6) Fact - I rarely wear deodorant, it gives me a rash. Well, not so much a rash as it just irritates my skin. When I do use it I use Dove for sensitive skin which is the least irritating I have found. I shower everyday and use cornstarch powder and everyone always tells me how nice I smell. Even on the days I don't wear any perfume. I also don't get any sweaty marks on my clothes.

7) Habit - Checking my blog for comments or new posts on Google Reader five times a day.

8) Fact - I am considering having another baby...well it might be a joint decision, but you get the idea.

All Done

Bye Grade 1

2007-06-28T15:31:00.000-04:00

About half an hour ago I picked up Papoosie Girl from school, Grade 1 is over. Her first full year of school under her belt, the first step taken on a hopefully long path of academic endeavours.

She cried all the way home. She loves her teacher and can't bear to not see her everyday. I love her teacher too, she is everything a teacher should be, engaging, supportive, caring and concerned. There is a remote chance we might get this teacher again, but I don't want to get my hopes up or hers. Our Principal is also retiring so these last few days of school have been tough for Papoosie Girl, lots of goodbyes.

I cannot think of a better testament to our very small school than a child who cried all the way home on the last day.

I have been toying with the idea of getting my teaching certificate and after volunteering in the school and being on the Council I wonder if I have what it takes. The teachers in Papoosie Girl's school work hard with very limited means and they make the most out of what little resources the Board and the province toss their way.

I have never been a fan of teacher bashing, for the obvious reason that I don't really bash anyone - well certain celebrities beg for it, but even then I usually refrain. My preferred choice would be to get involved and make a change - make a difference.

Teacher's spend five days a week with our children, teaching them everything they can within constraints so severe I never would have believed it had I not seen it for myself. You hear people say things like, "it is easy being a teacher with holidays and summers off" or similar statements. Let me tell you if I ever thought that teachers have it easy I have long since been enlightened. They are the unsung heroes of our children's childhoods.

Best wishes to all teachers - enjoy your summer - you deserve it. Here are some quotes I came across while looking for an image. Some food for thought.

It'll be a great day when education gets all the money it wants and the Air Force has to hold a bake sale to buy bombers. ~Author unknown, quoted in You Said a Mouthful, Ronald D. Fuchs, ed.

The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind. ~Kahlil Gibran

The task of the excellent teacher is to stimulate "apparently ordinary" people to unusual effort. The tough problem is not in identifying winners: it is in making winners out of ordinary people. ~K. Patricia Cross

Teaching is the profession that teaches all the other professions. ~Author Unknown

I cooked!

2007-06-25T13:15:00.000-04:00

In my effort to not be such a poor meal planner I have been trying to cook large batches of things so that there is no excuse for eating six Dad's oatmeal cookies and a large glass of cold milk for lunch.

Joy asked everyone what they are making that qualifies as fresh and like many others grilled veggies are quick and easy right now. I usually add something acid like lemon juice or balsamic or red wine vinegar and some oil, sometimes olive oil and sometimes canola. I use basil, oregano, rosemary and parsley or whatever I fancy. Actually, if I am really strapped for time Kraft salad dressing - any of the vinaigrette's work well with veggies.

I made the pasta salad using the tri-coloured veggie pasta, carrots, broccoli, peppers, cucumber, tomatoes and feta cheese crumbled. I ate it for lunch all week and one dinner too with some grilled chicken. Yum.

The chili is actually made with ground turkey and sometimes I make it with ground chicken. I know chili is kind of more of a winter food, but when you eat it as I do with a big bowl of nachos for dipping and use lots of fresh veggies it really is fresh! It is also low-fat and loaded with protein and veggies, it doesn't get much better than that. Well, it could if my girls would eat it.

Here is the recipe more or less:

1 package of ground turkey or chicken
1 can of chick peas
1 can white kidney beans
1 can of corn (frozen works too)
1 can of tomato sauce
1 can of diced tomatoes
1 red pepper (any kind of pepper works)
1 sweet onion (I use Vidalia)
Chili spice (you can add extra garlic if you like)
Honey

*I brown the turkey/chicken and when it is almost done I add in the chopped pepper and onion.
*Once all sauteed I add all the cans bring it to a boil and simmer on low for about 45 minutes or so.
*Last I add a dollop of honey, the mixture of hot and sweet is really good.

My sister-in-law also adds in chopped carrots and even tofu, but I don't. You really can't go wrong it is all just a matter of taste.

I think I messed up the dates on my last two posts since they didn't show up on Google Reader for some reason. Sorry to anyone I have confused!

Monday Musings - Playing House

2007-06-25T12:10:00.000-04:00

When we first got married I felt like we were playing house. I kept waiting for someone to out us and take away our pretend life. When I look at the photos of us in the sales trailer proudly standing beside our model of house I think what babies we were, I can't believe they sold us a house!

We have many photos documenting buying our home and the progress of it being built. I don't think any of those photos quite capture the essence of playing house quite the way these photos do. Nor do any of us in the house the first few years.

When pregnant with Papoosie Girl I bought this adorable mint green snowsuit with paw mitts and a kitty face from The Bay. It was the first baby item I bought and I just had to have it. As soon as I got it home I put in on a stuffed dog and tried it out. Why there are no sheets on the bed is a mystery, I was cleaning them perhaps? This was the guest room that would become the nursery painted a most beautiful, soft robins egg blue with accents of sage green and cream. I was inspired by the bedding we bought and built the colour scheme around it. It is now Rosebud's room and Papoosie Girl has moved into the bedroom next door which is a shocking Pepto Bismal pink. I still love my nursery and seeing it in its former life is strange.

Papoosie Girl came home from the hospital in that same snowsuit and wore it for several months. Now we were playing house with a little doll. In the photo she is packed up and ready to leave the hospital. When I look at myself holding up that stuffed animal in the snowsuit I feel a mix of emotions. The knowledge that I have now of how my life would change forever staggers me. The me of before would never have been able to understand that. Everyone tells you life changes, you change, but those are words to be understood in the moment and moments that follow the car ride home. I remember thinking as we walked out of the hospital New Year's Eve 2000 why are they letting us leave? I kept waiting, right up until she was buckled into the car, for someone to tap us on the shoulder and stop us. Stop imposters! They put that snowsuit on a stuffed animal!

Of course we did bring her home and there she stayed, a brand new member for us to play house with and indeed we do.

My Big Fat Greek Life

2007-06-23T23:37:00.001-04:00

As some of you know my husband is of Greek heritage. He was born in Toronto, but his parents immigrated to Canada as young adults. His Dad came first and instead of settling in Montreal with his brother he kept on to Toronto to stay with another brother. He originally landed Halifax and when we took a trip to the East Coast in our dating years, Hubby was moved to tears to imagine his father entering these very waters on his ship with $3 in his pocket.

His father is the youngest child of a mother widowed while he was still in her womb. He lived through depression, the war, the German occupation of their village, and poverty. He tended sheep and slept in fields and truthfully had no shoes. He is a master of making a meal out of nothing, a skill honed over years of surviving on what you could grow or raise yourself.

Theirs is the story that movies are made of, they came with nothing and made a wonderful life. Hubby's Dad knew his future wife as they were from the same village even though he is a few years older. Their courtship was letters back and forth and finally my Husband's Dad asked her father for permission to get married. My mother-in-law came to Canada and despite being alone with just a handful of people she knew, she got married to a man she barely knew. Today is their 45th wedding anniversary and they are a couple who know each other in a way that is almost supernatural. This lifetime together, longer than I have been alive has given them an unbreakable bond. Not that they don't bicker like the best of us and my father-in-law can drive my mother-in-law nuts sometimes, it is just that they are so connected they are unimaginable apart.

As I approach my 10th anniversary I have trouble imagining my 45th, or even 25th. That seems like so many lifetimes away. My father-in-law loves to regale me with stories and even after all this time I am not an expert at extracting myself from the conversation. He speaks of family in such a way, that is revered with such ferocity you dare not challenge his notions. When I point out that most if not all cultures revere family, he will tell me it is different with Greek people. At first this offended me, was my family not devoted to each other? Did we not love each other? My Hubby would tell me that I was being defensive or perhaps I misunderstood or something was lost in translation. And while I am certain that the value of family applies to every other culture, having first-hand experience with the Greek culture I believe it to be true in the sense that family is not only important it is the reason they take every breath.

My in-laws would do anything for us and I mean that in the most literal way. They would give until they could give no more before turning away family. I love my family and am quite sure they love me, but there is an element of self-preservation that I think would kick in at a certain point. My in-laws would drive over and get me a tissue out of the box if I asked and really think nothing of it, I asked and that is enough for them. I have had the luxury of having my children cared for, of letting a sick child stay in bed while I took the other one somewhere, homemade food, company for doctors appointments, a warm meal whenever I enter the door and in fact a key to the front door. I am family and they have accepted me fully.

I know they were wary of me when Hubby first brought me around, which was well into the relationship - bringing home girlfriends is frowned upon. I am sure they longed for someone Greek for their son. I was told recently that my mother-in-law tells most people that I am Greek in every way that matters because I love her son and family dearly. I remember thinking, wow I never imagined I would be accepted like that. Let's face it I stand out in the family, an English girl with blondish hair who bristles when the conversation comes round to discussions of women's work with some of the older relatives.

The movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding is very much like my life, in an exaggerated and comedic way. When the movie came out I loved it and my brother's name is Ian which made it all the funnier. Who doesn't love John Corbett, I was smitten while being addicted to Northern Exposure - I was convinced I would name a girl Cicley if I ever had one. While the premise of the movie is getting her family to accept him and that certainly was not the case for me, this movie was funnier to me than it was to many others I am sure. A manual and code book for the non-Greek girl.

I was married in a traditional Greek Orthodox ceremony, have heard about the origin of many words (I used to get so mad at then to-be Hubby when he would clean up on Jeopardy based on his knowledge of Greek), have a hard time keeping all the cousins straight since they all have the same names, explain every Easter why I still don't like lamb, have been plied with mountain tea to make me better and yes, considered Greek school for my girls.

Hubby attended Greek school every day after school his whole elementary school life. He would finish school, go home have a snack and go to Greek school from 4-7pm every day. He can speak, write and read Greek fluently, is extremely proud of his heritage and doesn't have a single Greek friend. That I have always found strange. We don't have a Greek flag waving anywhere in our house, but both my girls have several icons given to them to protect them that are safely tucked away.

The movie came out right around my birthday and Hubby gave me a doctored version with this photo on the cover. That is my head (from our wedding), but not my body - oh how I wish my waist was that small. Hubby doctored up his hair to get the right effect. I have a framed copy on our bookcase and everyone loves it, we get so many comments on it even after all this time. The only thing I left out when I scanned it was he put our names at the top, marquee style.

I could and maybe will do a post one day on all the wacky stuff, but really I think about how earnest his Dad is while telling me something or his Mom when she tells me something that I think borders on voodoo. They are simple people who made a life, own their own home, owned businesses and my Hubby's Dad completed a Grade 3 education. They put two children through university and are still helping. I would not want them to think I was making fun of them in any way. They have done more in their lives than most people could do in twenty life times and when I get cranky and sullen I feel spoiled and ungrateful when I think of what they have endured to get to where they are today.

My Big Fat Greek Life is great. It may resemble a movie sometimes - good thing it is a comedy. Even though they have no clue about my blog, I should be so lucky to be celebrating my 45th anniversary one day. Best wishes to them and everyone who manages to make this journey as a couple, to find that person whom you belong with for better or worse.

Memories

2007-06-22T13:35:00.000-04:00

I have been trying to sort out some of our photos and travel keepsakes, I have no idea why this bothers me so much; but it does. Actually, I am in more of a pre-sort phase at the moment. I have gathered all the loose photos in the house and have put them in assortment of totes and boxes, oh how I love my totes! Some are in old fashioned sticky page albums, some are in those one dollar flip albums, many are in the sleeves from developing and others are loose much like the memories they hold.

My goal was to just get them all in one spot and then start the fun process of sorting them. While this has been stressful it has uncovered some long forgotten memories and moments.

When Hubby and I used to travel we would set up an itinerary for both us and to give to our parents so they could keep track of our travels (did they even want this?) and we would use this while planning out our vacation.

Below is what Hubby made for our honeymoon. We really are that geeky. I am not even sure who is worse because I made the plan for our trip to the East Coast in Word Perfect on the blue screen and all. I will spare you that particular pain.

This September is our 10th anniversary and we always said we would go back to Hawaii on our 10th. Then we went to Disney World last summer so our funds are not exactly overflowing at the moment. We will go back, that I know and maybe even bring the girls. It is such a magical place and I want to share that with them. I know many people feel it is very commercial and it can be, but there is something so special and magical about Hawaii especially in the lesser known parts. You can feel the history there.

I went as a child with my father and step-mother and remember that trip so fondly, I was enchanted with the islands. While planning our honeymoon I felt compelled to return, I felt like my father was calling me there. He passed away six weeks after we got engaged at the age of 48, I will have that day burned into my mind and soul forever. Every moment, from the phone call, car drive and the hospital room is so exact in my mind I wish there was a way to erase it.

We went ahead with planning the wedding and we were married one year and one month after he passed away. It was the hardest year of my life.

Hubby's idea of a honeymoon was a long-weekend get-a-away, mine was a tad grander and was being fueled by completely irrational thoughts it seemed. I just had to go to Hawaii, there was no dissuading me and when I look back poor Hubby was so concerned for me, I can see that now. My fervor for wanting to go back to this place I visited with my father was relentless.

After much discussion (begging and pleading) he agreed to this very expensive (the money would be better spent on the mortgage) honeymoon. He loved every minute of it. The helicopter ride over the bubbling volcano, swimming with the dolphins, watching the sunrise above the clouds at Mt. Haleakala, the hypnotic beauty of the ocean, the sombre visit to Pearl Harbor - all of it.

I visited one of the hotels I stayed in as a child and walked around the grounds delighted that not much had changed. I walked on the beach my Dad and I snorkeled on and I remembered the wonder and beauty he shared with me under the ocean. I felt at peace in Hawaii for the first time since he had passed away.

My Dad was an anal, type-A person too, so I come by it naturally. As August approaches and the anniversary of his death comes near I think of him often. My brother is getting married in July and I am sad he will miss this, another child of his is getting married. Life is not fair sometimes, but oh how it moves on.

He would have been proud of my itinerary, he really would.

Meme too - Hey, that's two words

2007-06-21T09:40:00.000-04:00

The lovely, funny, sassy and strong Alpha DogMa tagged me for this one word meme, surely a test for the long-winded me.

1 Where is your cell phone? Diaper bag
2 Relationship? Married
3 Your hair? Transition
4 Work? Nonstop
5 Your sister? Amy
6 Your favorite things? Books
7 Your dream last night? None
8 Your favorite drink? Iced Tea
9 Your dream car? Cabriolet
10 The room you're in? Small
11 Your shoes? Crocs
12 Your fears? Death
13 What do you want to be in 10 years? Traveling
14 Who did you hang out with this weekend? Family/Friends
15 What are you not good at? Disappointment
16 Muffins? Yum!
17 Wish-list item? Space
18 Where you grew up? Suburbs
19 The last thing you did? Groceries
20 What are you wearing? Capris
21 What are you not wearing? Socks
22 Your pet? None
23 Your computer? iBook
24 Your life? Nice
25 Your mood? Restless
26 Missing? Dad
27 What are you thinking about? Dinner
28 Your car? Van
29 Your kitchen? Clean
30 Your summer? Adventures
31 Your favorite color? Blue
32 Last time you laughed? Today
33 Last time you cried? Saturday
34 School? More?
35 Love? Plenty
36. Tag? Omaha Mama

Gives new meaning to choose your words carefully.

Monday Musings - Thanks Daddy

2007-06-18T18:30:00.000-04:00

Thanks Daddy...

*For taking us to Home Depot, grocery shopping, the gas station, the car wash, for oil changes, for coffee for Mommy and all the other great places you take us when Mommy is "enjoying her peace and quiet"

*For letting us put hair bows in your hair and not yelling, "ouch" like Mommy does

*For taking us on great adventures and even when it is supposed to be educational we always have fun

*For teaching us how to throw and catch and hit even if our skills are a little shaky

*For teaching us about space, math, physics and all the stuff Mommy avoids

*For making chocolate chip pancakes every Sunday and making them in princess and frog shapes

*For getting us treats when we are out even if our idea of keeping it a secret is to blurt it out as soon as the van is in the driveway

*For letting us pick presents for Mommy even if they are a hunter green velvet tank top in size small (and for always keeping the receipts)

*For loving the homemade t-shirt with our hand prints just as much as your "Steelers Dad" shirt

*For cutting our grilled cheese sandwiches in shapes with cookie cutters

*For knowing that is OK to leave the house once in a while without 7 bags, a sweater, a hat or a drink and survive

*For working so hard so Mommy can stay home and take care of us every day

*For being the Best Dad in the whole wide world

Love Rosebud and Papoosie Girl
xoxo

Monday Musings - Shh I think I am becoming a b@$%h

2007-06-11T22:02:00.000-04:00

In recent weeks, well really months I have found myself speaking up and out in a way I never have done before. If you knew me in my real life you would know I have never been one to make waves or cause a fuss. I may be a talker, but conflict has never been my speciality. I would rather lop my own arm off than start a fight with someone.

That was then. In the last little while I have not only confronted people I have engaged them in a way I have never done before with little regard for the pot I was stirring. I find myself much less tolerant of situations where there is an easy way to resolve it, I am not interested in finding a manager or consulting a guide; I want resolution and I want it now.

I have no tolerance for silly, politically correct, dancing around something conversations. I hear my voice saying things like, "what is it exactly you are trying to say?" or worse, "is there a point you are trying to make?" My frustration bubbles up so fast these days and threatens to boil over into all the burners much too often. A fellow School Council member was recently quizzing me about the discussion in the meeting they had missed, asking me over and over why didn't I bring this or that up. I finally said, "if you were so concerned you should have been at the meeting last night." I was not asked anymore questions.

I am afraid my sudden tell it like it is attitude is going to land me in big trouble soon. I recently snatched a lollipop out of Rosebud's startled mouth while visiting some family. I had been very clear that the girls were not to be eating any more candy. I have repeated asked this family member to not ply my children with cookies and candy each time they see them (which is not all that often, but often enough), offer them something else I would suggest if you really think they are hungry. So the other day I snapped and told them that each time they fill the girls pockets with treats I throw them out. To be fair this family member agreed it was just their way of getting an extra hug out of them, and has since agreed to lay off the candy.

We have so many friends with kids with fillings and the dental bills to prove it. Kids as young as 4 and 5 having root canals, silver teeth, and fillings. Is candy all to blame? Nope, the dentist cites saliva issues and high bacteria counts, but you know what - it cannot be helping. My Mom gave the girls Crocs for Easter this year in my war against unnecessary treats and my Step mom gave them Chapters gift cards. And no the Easter Bunny did not leave a trail of frozen peas, we had chocolate, plenty of it - I am just trying hard to limit the flow into the house.

I digress. I am a bitch I fear these days. No one is immune from my wrath it seems. I have adopted an attitude that enables me to speak much more freely though and not get pushed around half as much. Hubby jokes that I was sooo much easier to get along with before, but I know this is what he has always wanted for me, to find my voice and use it. When I met him I could scarcely order from a menu without checking with him first. I was recovering from a very combative relationship where I quickly learned to keep my mouth shut. I think initially, I was so relieved to be able to think and speak freely I was simply happy enough with that. Years later though I find myself wanted more, willing to step up to the conflict a wee bit more. I will never be a yeller or a fighter, it is just inherently not my nature. That doesn't mean though that I am not embracing this other side of myself. They say life's a bitch, they just haven't met me yet.

Meme too, Rhet Style

2007-06-10T23:21:00.000-04:00

Why is it I am always the last to answer these things? Does it count that I at least do them even if it is after the fact...

It is my turn to be tagged by the explosive Blog Rhet Meme and since it was Bub & Pie who tagged me and she was my very first comment it really is fitting. I answered many of the questions in a post way back, but I will answer the questions and fill in any missing pieces. I have so enjoyed reading every one's answers and can't believe how many people have similar stories to mine. Then I am enjoying the stories that are completely different from mine too. All around fascinating stuff.

Here we go.

1. Go back to first or early post. How would you describe your voice back in those early days?
Who were you writing to? What was your sense of audience (if any) back then?

Hesitant. On a lark. These are two things that come to mind when I read my very brief first post now. Here is a bit of it:

This blog is simply for me to keep a living diary of everything wonderful and not so wonderful in our family. I was inspired by Catherine and have followed her since her first entry on Baby Center.

This will be my attempt at documenting our life.

For my sister Amy in South Korea a chance to keep track of us in a way only random rantings can.

I was writing to my sister and still am, even though she is nearing the end of her time in Seoul. I was also trying to better capture the fleeting moments - the minutia of daily life with small children. So that has been true to form. What I could have never predicted is what is has brought to me, and done for me. I had no clue of the true sense of audience or even what I was getting into really. I was following a writer I loved and found others I liked an awful lot more too and was just trying to figure out how I could be a part of it. I never dreamed anyone would care to read my blog and that is the truth.

When Catherine Newman left Baby Center I tracked her down and discovered she had a blog. I read her posts, it was just a few then and read her comments with just as much interest. These were people who I already had something in common with, we liked her writing and stories. As I started to check out the comments there were a few that stuck with me, writers I just felt very much at home reading. Bub & Pie was one of those blogs. I decided to try to start my own so I stayed up until 1am one night and poof I had a blog.

Then I stalled-big time. I kept reading my ever growing list of favourites based on Bub & Pie's Blogroll and beginning to comment. I read of blog burnout and became afraid before I even started...I kept thinking if this isn't rewarding or even fun then why do it at all? What have I done? Then I found Alpha DogMa and I felt a little less intimidated, we found each other early in our blogs and became fast bloggy friends. I was encouraged by her interest and could not get enough of her posts either. I struggled though when I read a great post on another blog and I would think this is why I don't need to write anything about anything (except about my family) since there are so many other great blogs out there, where I hear my own voice as I read the magic words.

Then Catherine (Newman) asked her reader's why they blogged and does it effect the way you parent. The answers I came up with actually helped me along in the process of blogging and helped me find my voice.

Some of the answers I came up with...

I started it to keep a living history of our family where everything feels so endless and fleeting all at once. I was completely inspired by Catherine's postings at Baby Center and her new blog. This is a slippery slope I have discovered. After reading only Catherine's posts for so many years I feel a bit like I over ate at the buffet by the gluttony of posts I am trying to read now. I read them because it is so personal and anonymous at the same time. I learn things, relate to people and generally take comfort in the fact that while we may not all be the same we all love our kids to death, are terrified daily of losing them, and generally can't even imagine life before them.

When I read great blogs like Bub and Pie, I constantly nod in agreement and say to myself I so hear you. These postings have always resonated with me in a way that nothing else ever did - kind of a kindred spirits thing without ever having met. These wonderful writers can put into words my feelings of deepest love, silliest worries, darkest thoughts and make it all seem so effortless.

So I guess the answer lies herein, blogs give you a sense of comfort that there are parents all over the planet going through the exact same thing you are going through. Reading and writing blogs heals your soul and is like a nice cool washcloth on your forehead all at the same time.

I KNOW I am a better and more mindful parent for having met these other wonderful families. I try very consciously to be more mindful and to remember we really do hold their hearts in our hands one of the most memorable lines I gleaned from Catherine.

2. Do you remember when you received your first comment? What was it like?
My first comment was from Bub & Pie on my second post aptly titled, "Blog Two" she said some wonderful things of course and I was hooked on the idea of comments. The goal of my early posts was to see if she would come back.

3. Can you point to a stage where you began to feel that your blog might be part of a conversation? Where you might be part of a larger community of interacting writers?

I think this happened for me about two months into my blog, around December 2006. There was huge dialogue happening about community and the debate about the validity of the blogging community. The fact that people were talking about it in such a way made it very clear to me that this was indeed a veritable community. I had a small, but devoted list of bloggers who visited me regularly and even though I knew I could stop at any time and disappear from the blogging world, I knew I never would. I owed my friends more than that and at that point I new I was a part of something larger.

4. Do you think that this sense of audience or community might have affected the way you began to write?

I think the best way to describe it would be to say I was trying harder. I wanted my thoughts to be clear, well-written, entertaining and enjoyable to read. I was much more conscious of trying harder to make everything flow. My voice did not change, nor did the content. Even though I was ultimately writing for myself, I was acutely aware of the fact that I was choosing this medium and not a journal on my night table and for that reason I felt a responsibility to my readers. In that way I suppose it did affect the way I was writing.

This was an interesting process to write about. A part of me is still really surprised sometimes that I have a blog, me a person who considered it a victory when I finally mastered programming the VCR. But, I do and I am proud of it and proud of the community I am a part of now. I have met more smart, savvy, and wonderful women here than I could have ever imagined.

I expect this journey to continue for some time. I fear I get much more than I give from this exchange, that however will not deter me. And if you told me back in October 2006 it would be possible to write an entire post without mentioning my girls I would have laughed. Or, if you told me this would be a place for more than the just the shameless promotion of cuteness again I would have laughed. So ha to all that.

Edited to include a tag for Alpha DogMa...I swear I thought you were tagged already!

Monday Musings - PTAhhhhhh

2007-06-04T18:10:00.000-04:00

I am member of my daughters School Council, I am in fact the Secretary. My job being to take all the minutes and distribute them and check and sort the mail. We have a meeting tonight, in an hour in fact. The girls are at Yia Yia's house so I am supposed to be eating dinner (bowl of cereal so far) and getting ready for the meeting. I am getting ready and normally while I wouldn't say I look forward to these meetings I usually don't mind going. The members are all nice people and the teachers too, the Principal is fine too. And, even if they weren't I'd never tell, I have discovered I have a real fear of Principal's in general...even if they are not mine. Ours is rather dour and not much fun and tries very hard to make all the meetings morose and even though I am all grown-up there is the way this person looks at me that makes me all want to blurt out, "I am the one who pulled the alarm!"

I got involved when Papoosie Girl was in JK, keener that I am. I wanted to help! Be involved and make a difference! The truth is we have a school population of just over 400 kids and we have a bare bones Council with five of us in positions and about four more who attend fairly regularly and help when there are events. As part of the mandate there are also two teachers who attend and are members and the Principal, there is a binder about 12 inches thick with all the rules and guidelines the Council must follow. The Board takes this very seriously, no mocking allowed at all. Not even if your comments are the tiniest bit funny.

I have no more time to give than anyone else, but I feel very strongly that in order to have a say you have to be willing to put in a bit of effort. Several of my friends are on Councils that are vibrant there are actually so many people who want positions they vote them in, and they make a huge impact on the school and greater community. While our Council is small we are mighty and we make our fund-raising dollars stretch to include, community outreach, charities here and elsewhere, relief for disasters, the school library, new AV equipment for the gym, supply teachers so the teacher/coaches can accompany their teams, graduation, confirmation and the list goes on.

So why I am I blogging with an obvious point I need to make? One of the members of Council is not attending because their son has his first soccer game tonight and they have not forwarded the pertinent information we need to make this meeting matter. We have known about the meeting for weeks so in my opinion there is no excuse. We all make an effort to attend the meetings and be prepared, how rude to waste our time when we can't make any decisions tonight based on one person's thoughtlessness.

I think I am done now. I am sure many of you have much worse PTA stories to tell. I just get very annoyed when everyone is making a concerted effort to attend these meetings and a few key players are not holding up their end of the deal.

I am off now to eat my real dinner, yummy chicken drumsticks all sticky and gooey from the oven with some rice. Yum. The cereal was my appetizer because I just could not wait a single second longer to eat, I get like that when I am hungry - all shaky and crazy and need to eat NOW.

Off to school now for the meeting, my head is already running several nicer versions of the above to share with the Council, we all need to play nice in the sandbox.

How much do you think medical school is anyway?

2007-05-30T13:37:00.000-04:00

This is just a wee little post mostly for some shameless promotion of cuteness. We bought this doctors costume recently and my check-ups have increased dramatically. The glasses are part of the doctors kit we got long ago, actually we have two doctors kits worth of instruments that currently reside in a large Ziploc bag, the doctors bag in shreds from over-use.

I seldom wonder what my girls will be when they grow up, I am not sure why. Sometimes I think it is because I am still busy wondering what I am going to be when I grow up. My sister-in-law has two kids in university one is studying kinesiology in the hopes of becoming a therapist of one kind or another and the other hopes to become a pharmacist. She is extremely proud of both of them of course, but has been known to joke about maybe one of them becoming a doctor. I wonder would I be prouder of a doctor versus a pharmacist? I doubt it, but having never been there maybe at some point it will matter to me. Right now I would be happy if Rosebud learns her letters before Kindergarten and starts pooping in the potty more often (we are on day 6 currently of no action) these are my lofty goals at the moment.

I do see little glimpses of how easy it can be to want more for your kids, to want them to strive higher and higher. When Papoosie Girl learned to read at age 4 I was thrilled, a prodigy this child is! Once the excitement wore off a bit I was just to happy to sharing one of my passions, essential to life pursuits with my daughter. It meant so much to me and still does. Rosebud however, is very different and at three and a half can only write two letters. At this age Papoosie Girl was already in JK and could write all the letters, numbers to 10 and her name. I try not to compare, but it is really hard. Rosebud (in my opinion) should be able to write her name before she starts school, but she has very little interest in sitting at the table to practice no matter how fun I make it. Papoosie Girl was always keen and determined to master tasks and made teaching her a breeze.

I have several friends whose little monkey's started school without being able to write their names, but I must admit I am working hard to make sure that is not the case for Rosebud. I hate the idea of her being behind before she starts, although I hope that doesn't sound as bad as all that. I just want her to enjoy JK and not be struggling with something I know she is not crazy about.

Well this started out as a post of some cute pics and here goes my hamster on a wheel brain again. I have no idea how much medical school costs and to be honest I don't really want to know all that much. I need to focus on the here and now, "Come here Rosebud, can you spell scholarship for Mommy?"

Monday Musings - Is it hot in here?

2007-05-28T10:42:00.000-04:00

While on her grand adventure vacation Alpha DogMa and I engaged in a discussion about our high school/university Celebrity Lists. She challenged me in my comment's to make it a mini-meme, so for the hell of it - here goes. This goes with the disclaimer that actually sleeping with these people, or really anyone besides Hubby is rather an icky thought to me now. I fancy myself more in lust with these people, more along the lines they are nice to look at...Oh who am I kidding.

For those of you that read my blog with any regularity (thanks guys, you are small in number, but big in heart) I don't really dabble in this area. Call me a prude, but any kind of bow chicka bow wow or rumpusing is better left for others to discuss. Those who can make it all sound funny and sexy and not at all as awkward as I think it sounds when I say it. That said I am still going to play along, I could use a little eye-candy right about now.

The list is defined as:

A list created by the individuals of a monogamous relationship at the point of becoming exclusive in order to notate which celebrities they are allowed to have sex with, if given the opportunity, and will not have committed any kind of wrong-doing that may conflict with the current terms of monogamy agreed upon by the individuals of the relationship.

Uh, yeah right. So I won't mind a bit if Hubby dallies around as long as it is someone from his list. Let's suspend reality here and go along with it. What is funny is that while I am trying to recall my past list, I realized that there are not many changes. What does that say about me? I have a type and I stick to it? My tastes really have not changed or matured? I do not really want to delve too deep here, so here is my old list (to my best recollection), I am leaving out my current list, a girl needs a little mystery.

Celebrity List of the Past
1) Tom Cruise. I don't really need to explain Top Gun do I? This was before he was strange and all into his cult, I mean religion. I actually took Ron Hubbard's books out of the library to try to understand Scientology a bit. The God honest truth is I had no idea what I was reading, it was all gobbledy-gook. He still has his moments of appeal to me, but then I think of Katie's vacant face and it quickly vanishes.

2) "Holden Synder" As the World Turns - actor Jon Hensley. My step-Grandmother watched this soap and babysat me during the summer. I quickly became hooked into the Holden-Lily storyline and he is still on the soap today. I don't watch anymore, but I think he may have been my first real crush. I still love the name Holden to this day and always claim it came from, Cather in the Rye, um busted.

3) Denzel Washington
I think it was Malcolm X that did it for me since I can't really recall what the first movie I saw with Denzel was, if it wasn't that one. I loved this movie and he was amazing, and I was sold.

4) Harrison Ford
This one is obvious, Star Wars was my first taste of Harrison, a great boys name in my opinion too. Then there was Indiana Jones and my fascination with older leading men was sealed. All these years later he is still hot.

5) Bruce Willis

This began with Moonlighting and only got worse with the Die Hard franchise. While I think of him as "John McClane" from Die Hard his film career is really quite varied and I have enjoyed most of his films. He has that bad boy, not trying too hard quality I am so drawn to...and I like his voice which from my choices is pretty obvious I think that voices can carry me quite far.

There are a few new ones I could add in, but the mature leading men preference (as opposed to the latest boy toy actors) has not changed and now includes George Clooney, Colin Firth and Hugh Grant among others.

Who is on your fantasy list? Do you even still have one and has it changed much? I can't say I had thought much about this in recent years, but it was fun to think about!

Happy Monday.

Lists

2007-05-24T09:34:00.000-04:00

Trying to pretend this is a Monday Musing would be wrong, although that is truthfully how it started. As usual my best of laid plans in my Groundhog Day life have gone out the window. The list of "Must Get Done" items have been down-graded to, 'Next Week" items. Things meant to be done today are pushed off for never. I have managed to cancel my dentist appointment for the second time, change my volunteer day to next week, and differ several important errands for next week.

How does this happen? I am an extremely organized person, I have a routine and self-imposed schedule I try to follow. Why then does any day I make a plan for fall apart with such spectacular display? Yes, there are the sick kids and sudden dramas that drag me away, but mostly I feel like it is me. I just cannot get on top of all the things I want to, in the timely manner I think is appropriate. The real answer I fear may be my new love of blogging, but let's not touch on that just yet. I prefer to think it is Rosebud's chronic and constant battle with constipation that is making me a little crazy lately.

There are the daily things like, making meals, making lunches, baths, homework, playing outside, and general tidying up. Then there are the weekly things like cleaning the house, washing the sheets, buying groceries, and making sure we are not double-booked on the weekends. Then there are the other things you need to fit in like haircuts, doctor appointments, dentist appointments, birthday parties, baby showers, and more birthday parties (May is killer for us) all the while trying to get to those other big important jobs. You know like washing the patio doors so you can actually see outside or finding all the sun hats you carefully put away last fall.

I make lists to keep this all in order, I usually have a weekly list of things to do at home and things to do out, which includes any thing I need to pick up or buy. Dividing it this way helps me sort out what needs to be done first and what is most important. How much do I rely on my lists? Well, this week I forgot to put honey on the grocery list so I kept reminding myself all the way to the store, "don't forget to get honey" and of course did not remember it. If it is not on my list it simply does not get done. I used to blame Mommy Brain, but truthfully I have always been a list person. When I worked in an office I loved the on-line to-do list features of my email/calendar program; I would supplement my personal lists in my planner with that list each week, printing out a copy. Then once I got a Palm Pilot I was on my way! All my lists in one tidy place, yippee!

While I love lists and the function they serve, what I don't like is when those things don't get done. The lovable list then becomes a tangible reminder of my failings. There was a time when I would be mortified to mail a birthday card late, now I often mail it the day before (or of) the person's birthday. I have left belated messages on many an answering machine in days since I have become a mother. I get the idea that you just cannot stay on top of things the same way you used to, but what amazes me is the rapid decline. It seemed to happen for me when Rosebud came along, I think before she came along I had a better ability to keep my house of cards standing.

I have noticed now that I fluctuate between being largely not bothered my lists and the fact that I rewrite them each week just adding more stuff and being very concerned to the point where I lie away at night stressing over it all and letting those inky dark thoughts creep in as Beck so well articulated. Can you guess where I am right now? Yeah, the never-ending, never crossed off lists are bothering me. In my rational mind, when the sun of the morning shines in, I can completely understand the reasons, we were in New York, we have been busy, there have been other unavoidable circumstances taking me away from my own life. I get all that, I really do. In my darker moments though the fact that I am a staying at home and don't have everything under control (by my standards) bothers me, a lot. There are days I want to write things like get up on my list just so I can cross something off.

I am sure I will not reach the end of my days and wish that everything on my list was crossed off, I am completely confident that the smug satisfaction of cleaning the basement and putting all the photos in the album will not be my first thoughts of measuring the success and happiness of my life. Papoosie Girl asked me the other day how old my Dad was when he went to heaven, after telling her he was 48 she started to cry. She was worried that since Daddy is 41 that something bad could happen to him and it took a lot of awkward explaining and reassuring that this doesn't happen to everyone. This week my best friend's Dad suffered a massive heart attack and he is still in the hospital. He is supposed to leave for a long-awaited trip to Europe with his wife, the first trip abroad for them. They now have to postpone the trip, life is so unfair sometimes.

My good, sane mind knows that at the end of the day my lists are nothing more than my neuroses on paper. As my eyes fill with tears at the enormity of what I want to accomplish and the silliness of this self-imposed pressure I know that it doesn't really matter how many things get crossed off. I think I cling to my lists in some desperate way of controlling what I know cannot be controlled. Life is not a tidy list meant to be trudged through, checking things off, "eat dinner" next, "read to kids", next "love husband", next and on and on. Life is complicated and messy and wonderful too. The pizza delivery man said this to us recently, "any day I am on this side of the ground is a good day" maybe a bit crude, but wholly true.

Wasting time worrying about inconsequential things seems to be my specialty lately. I feel like I am somehow going to be judged on these undone things, when I know in fact the only one judging is myself. A little self-diagnosis perhaps, but I think I know myself pretty well. I tend to go though these cycles and I know I will be on the other side soon. The side where my list stays stuck on the bulletin board for months, untouched. I realize this is fundamental to my personality and I actually do love my very organized and diligent self. Just some days it really can be my mental downfall.

Bring on the kids, bring on the healthy bodies, bring on the summer fun and what really matters. I know that I will never complete any list I make, that is the nature of the beast. So for today, I say, shhh clever little mind we are taking a vacation day and the only list I want to read is the menu at Starbucks.

Monday Musings - On Thursday?

2007-05-17T10:21:00.000-04:00

I guess since it is my blog I can do this...this flagrant disregard of the rules. Since we have been back from Long Island, NY I have wanted to post about the drive, party, family, etc., but it somehow seems so far away. It was all so vivid and I kept thinking I must blog about this, but when we returned I felt myself straining to remember what it was I wanted to say. I really love Alpha DogMa's By the Numbers posts so I think I am going to sum up our trip exactly that way.

By the Numbers Long Island, NY Engagement Party Version

10 the number questions at the border crossing (possibly could have been higher, but I am guesstimating 10.) We were very thoroughly questioned which proceeded to wake up both the girls - err. Prior to the questioning our biggest worry was whether we would be allowed to bring our homemade baked goods over. That question was never asked.

It also included these ditties from the border guy:

"Who has engagement parties?" This was after he wanted to see the invitation.
"What are the names of the people getting engaged?" Hubby struggles to remember cousin's fiancees name at this point.
"Where is the husband/father in the car ahead of you?" Well, they are divorced and he is joyfully not here with us. (Sister-in-law and three kids were in the car ahead of us and mentioned that the two cars behind her were traveling together.)

9 the time Rosebud fell asleep in her stroller at the party, before her dinner even arrived. Papoosie Girl fell asleep an hour later on two chairs with her head on my lap after crying for half an hour about the loud music - the Greek band WAS loud. The rest of the kids at the party danced and ran around the dance floor long after we left...my girls are just like Mommy not exactly party animals.

8 the number of miles our hotel was from our relatives house!

7 the number of first cousins gathered together on my hubby's side. Out of 7 people there are two sets that have the same name. This is very common and hubby has about five cousins on the other side with the same name. In the Greek culture it is customary to name your children after the paternal grandparents, hence cousins with the same name. This wreaks havoc for instance when we were planning our wedding and got back RSVP cards from several families with the same name...thank goodness I had numbered the cards.

6 the number of times I have chuckled while writing this and remembering Rosebud saying, "U Nork" and the Statue of "Liverty" while typing this up.

5 the number of times I have gone back to stare at some of the photos of the party. When did I get so huge? Is that really how I look to others? This is also the number of new undies I got from Victoria's Secret, the only underwear I wear and the only underwear you will never have to fish out of your butt, EVER, they are that good.

4 the number of hours the girls spent in the hotel pool. The highlight of the trip for them, well along with Dylan's.

3 the number of hours we spent at the mall Saturday morning wasting time and eating candy at Dylan's Candy Bar. (Could help explain #5, all those Jelly Belly's I ate...)

2 the number of engagement parties left to go to in Long Island, NY in the next few years.

1 times a thousand is the number of 1 dollar bills tossed in the air at the bride and groom while dancing. These "singles" all go to the band as tips and the dance floor is littered with them all night.

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The weekend had many fun and wonderful moments despite the hectic pace and general disregard for any schedule we might follow on a normal day. We were all glad to be home and back to "normal" and I am looking forward to the wedding next June since we are going to stay longer and make a vacation out of it. We are excited to take the girls to New York City and show them the sights. Well I am less excited, more nervous, but hubby's genuine excitement makes up for it.

One of these days I will do a real life, My Big Fat Greek Life post. There are some wonderful and wacky things I would love to document and share. I promise to get started...as soon as this woeful, procrastinating, cranky mood lifts.

Monday Musings - Monday again?

2007-05-07T20:18:00.000-04:00

Well I had grand intentions of finishing my post about mother's, mine in particular; but that didn't happen. Then I tried to condense (it is way too big to post on You Tube) a really cute movie of Rosebud just talking and saying some really funny stuff, but I could not figure out how to do it. Then I thought of blogging about all the cute things she has been saying lately, but that seemed too cutesy. Then I thought of blogging about how Papoosie Girl is doing so well lately and hardly has any asthma symptoms, but that seems like begging the Murphy's Law jinx gods for an attack. Then there was that great article in the Globe & Mail (or maybe The Star, we get both papers) this weekend about kids and learning and math and this great teacher, but I recycled it already and am just too lazy to go find it. Then it was a poetic and insightful post about spring and how the girls are so loving all the tulips and daffodils they are seeing everywhere and asking all kinds of deep and profound questions about life.

So that leaves me with a Monday Musings with very little to muse at the moment. So um...how are things with you? Read any great books, seen any good movies, we really don't get to talk much anymore do we? Have an interesting meme you want to start? Let's dish and just spend a few moments catching up shall we?

Let me know and in the meantime I will work on getting those posts finished, maybe even by next Monday. Then again maybe not as we are off to Long Island, NY this weekend so next Monday maybe even bleaker. Then again after a 10 hour road trip with about 15 members of hubby's family, a family party to attend then followed by a 10 hour drive back the next day I might just give me enough fodder for a whole series of posts.

If you want to see how a post of half thoughts can sound go visit Bub & Pie, you will see why she is the teacher....

Beauty Shop

2007-05-01T12:01:00.000-04:00

So this isn't really supposed to be the place to whine and complain about being tired or alone with the girls from the minute they wake up until they lay their sweet heads upon their pillows. So I won't say that at all. Or that some days seem to stretch on forever like the sky.
And really not all days are like that....just some. And even if I am so very very tired, I love my job and would not trade it for the world.

The other day the girls were playing beauty shop and needed another customer (they had already suitably fixed each other up) and since I was just too tired to disagree I complied. I sat on the edge of the sofa for nearly an hour while they primped and yanked (ouch) my hair until they were satisfied. They take this beauty gig seriously and spent quite a bit of time getting it all just right. Most of the accessories are from a long ago "beauty head" the girls had, but got tired of playing with, they much prefer a real head.

I had one of those "styling heads" too as a child and would spend hours fixing her hair with the little velcro curlers. It amazes me that despite how different our childhoods are they are also in so many ways the same.

We were interrupted only once by the doorbell. The look on my teenage neighbours face was priceless as he asked for the ladder, their birdies had all gone into the eaves and we are the only people with a ladder. Then again he is about 15 so he should understand this kind of strange.

Once were done they insisted I take a look in the mirror and take some "real" pictures of my new do. So here they are, the result of an afternoon indulged in beauty and so much fun. Sometimes a trip to the beauty shop is just what you need.

Monday Musings - World Asthma Day

2007-04-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

May 1, 2007 is World Asthma Day.

Tomorrow hubby and I will be attending an event at The Credit Valley Hospital, where the Asthma Education Centre is hosting a community wide World Asthma Day. The theme for this year’s event is “You Can Control your Asthma”. We were invited by the Asthma Clinic nurse we met last year. Papoosie Girl has asthma and while we are fairly confident this is not immediately life-threatening, it is a chronic disease we live with and manage every day.

In case you are new to this here is how the Lung Association of Ontario defines asthma:

Asthma is a chronic inflammatory condition of the airways and one of the most prevalent chronic conditions in Canada. Asthma can develop at any age, but is most common in childhood. As many as 1 in 5 children and 1 in 10 adults has asthma. The airways of a person with asthma differ from someone without asthma because the airways of those with asthma become inflamed (swollen) and are extra-sensitive or twitchy (hyper responsive). The inflammation and hyper responsiveness cause airways to respond to a variety of triggers, such as cold air and cigarette smoke.

Did you know that?

Approximately 500 Canadians die each year as a result of asthma.

Asthma rates have quadrupled over the past twenty years. There are over 60,000 admissions to Canadian hospitals for the treatment of asthma.

Over 12,200 children under the age of 18 are hospitalized annually for asthma in Ontario. In Ontario, asthma is the leading cause of hospital admission for children.

In Ontario, as many as one in five children and one in ten adults has asthma.

Learning to live with asthma has been a on-going process of us, from her earliest diagnosis to hitting rock bottom one Christmas Eve. It is only in the last year and a half that we have really understood what it meant to live with a chronic disease. For many reasons we resisted this label and spent most of our time reacting to the symptoms as opposed to managing the disease and preventing them. As parents we are constantly told opposing information, "don't run to the doctor for every minor sniffle" followed by, "how could you not take care of this obvious problem." We spend our days wildly swinging between hyper-alert and benevolent neglect hoping to reach an acceptable middle ground.

Papoosie Girl was diagnosed early on at around the age of three. Prior to that she did show symptoms, but my family doctor felt it was too early for the label. It started innocent enough with colds turning nasty with lots of coughing and my doctor prescribing inhalers ("rescue" medication - the bronchodilator Ventolin and an anti-inflammatory drug - Flovent) for when she was coughing a lot. We would use these for a day or two then forget about them until the next cold. I felt very strongly that they just were not necessary for every day use. She was fine when she wasn't sick and I didn't want her (first of many misunderstandings about the disease) to become dependent on them.

Papoosie Girl actually had many other separate issues which we realized were linked to her asthma. She suffered eczema as a baby and also suffers seasonal allergies. She also had an intolerance to cow's milk when we switched from formula to milk. When we switched to soy milk, which she still drinks today she was fine. All of these seemingly unrelated problems all fall under what is considered "allergic diseases" including asthma. As she got older we started putting the pieces together and began the process of building a plan that would help her.

We were muddling along for about two years basically treating the asthma symptoms when they were severe, which was mostly when she was sick with a cold and once they subsided we more or less ignored it. It all came to a head in the fall of 2005. We had been seeing our regular family doctor for her asthma and that fall she had missed over 10 days of school. Every time she caught the slightest sniffle her asthma would flare up. For her that meant coughing non-stop all night until she often threw-up. Her "rescue" medication was not working and neither were the stronger anti-inflammatories we had started giving her. She was also at this point taking another drug daily called Singulair to help with her allergies which were triggering her asthma. She would be exhausted by morning and could not go to school. I kept waiting for it to get better and we had been to the doctors many times, in my gut I just knew this wasn't working. A child should not have to live like this I kept thinking. This was just not an acceptable way to live.

After suffering all through November and December it all came crashing down on Christmas Eve 2005. After everyone left our house and the girls were asleep we sat down in our dark living room to admire the tree lights and take in a moment of quiet. Before long Papoosie Girl was coughing and I was up in her room. Her coughing was out of control and I didn't want to take her to Emergency so I gave her another puff and we headed downstairs so we would not wake Rosebud up. We sat up all night watching the tree lights and it was like a realization hit me that I owed her so much more than this - to sit up coughing and gagging on Christmas Eve. I made her a promise that we were not going to do this anymore - we were going to get help.

I had a brochure from a pediatric walk-in clinic and we had gone there a few times on weekends with ear infections and bad colds when our family doctor was closed. They are open every Saturday and Sunday and all holidays. I started dialling Christmas morning while we opened presents and secured a spot for 1pm. Never mind the spin this put on our plans for the day, but I was determined, crazed even, to make this stop - even if it was Christmas Day. After opening gifts at our house we headed to my in-laws to visit, then we were coming back to our place to have dinner with my Mom and her husband. I left Hubby and Rosebud with my in-laws and Papoosie Girl and I headed to the clinic, it felt so strange to be driving on near empty roads to the doctors on Christmas Day, I remember driving by Tim Horton's and saw that it was open and I was shocked. I didn't have the heart to stop.

We arrived for our appointment and found the clinic busy but not crazy. When it was our turn and our doctor walked in I basically let it all pour out and dumped out a ziploc bag of medication and pleaded for his help. He quickly changed our entire plan - not that what we were doing was "wrong" it turned out to be just not nearly aggressive enough for her symptoms. He immediately switched her from the inhalers to the nebulizer and increased the dosages on everything. He set us on a strict plan for using the nebulizer up to six times a day and slowly weaning her down and closely monitoring her symptoms and triggers. I started a binder to keep track of everything and even came up with a spreadsheet to tick off her treatments and symptoms each day. This pediatrician sat with us for an hour (we turned out to be the last patient fortunately) and when we left there I felt better than I had in months. He asked to see her again and has been treating her asthma for over a year now. I remember heading straight to Shoppers Drug Mart from the clinic and the surreal feeling as I shopped on Christmas Day for a machine to help my daughter breathe and walking out with bags of medication. I was so hopeful and scared for her all at once. That night she coughed much less and by the next night she slept all night. In my mind it really was a miracle.

Shortly after that he recommended we visit an asthma education clinic (almost all hospitals have them) and we did and brought Papoosie Girl with us. The nurse spent nearly two hours with us answering all of our questions and talking to her and showing her what asthma is all about. In a few short weeks we went from being at the mercy of this disease to being able to spot a flare-up coming on and being about to prevent it or at least shorten it. This is one of the key elements in managing her asthma, figuring out her triggers. We already knew colds were a huge trigger, but now we needed to figure out the rest, which include, changes in weather, smog, animals and even cold air. At the slightest hint of a cold now we know to increase her treatments to prevent a full-blown attack. Seems like common sense, but when we didn't really understand that we would waiting for the symptoms then treating - huge difference.

Her life is really no different from other kids. She can play sports we are just careful about too much running and we need to watch colds very carefully. We travel everywhere with her medication in case we need it and her school is well informed of her asthma. She will do her treatments on the nebulizer just about anywhere and we have an adapter so she can even do it in the van. It has become a part of her life just like anything else and she is not at all bothered by it. We have some wonderful books about asthma and the Lung Association sent us a huge package of material for me and with activities for her. They were and continue to be a wonderful resource for us, you can call them with any question and they will answer. The material they sent me was life-saving, it really helped me understand what living with asthma means.

There were days when I thought I just couldn't do this and words like, "we are managing" seemed a million miles away. It really has been a process of us not only understanding, but accepting this and only then were we able to move on. We have faith that as she gets older the symptoms will be less severe, you never really "outgrow" asthma as some say and we know she will have this her entire life. I want to make sure that the disease is managed so that there is as little damage to her lungs as possible, I do not want this to hamper her teenage and adult years in any way.

So we will go tomorrow night and learn more and better ways of coping. We owe her that much. The slogan, "if you can't breathe nothing else matters" really resonates with me. There is nothing so helpless as watching your child gasp for breath. I am confident we are on the right path now and that makes me breathe a little easier too.

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If anyone has any specific questions I would be happy to answer them. I have read several great books and researched quite a bit on childhood asthma. While I am no doctor I could certainly point you in the right direction. Email me if you want at rosebudandpapoosiegirl@yahoo.ca

Monday Musings - Strange Weather -When turtlenecks and capris live together

2007-04-23T09:12:00.000-04:00

For most of us in Southern Ontario this was one of those weekends that is so beautiful it brings us outside in droves. The white, pasty legs of winter make their debut, windows are thrown open, the cars were being washed and garages swept out. Normally, this weekend is in May and I cannot recall one of these weekends happening in April, what Global Warming?! As you can see the girls spent time helping Daddy clean the van and then decided to decorate the van with their skipping ropes for a party. Since I was inside for most of the day I am seeing all this for the first time as I download the photos from the camera.

Hubby spent all day Sunday cleaning out the garage, cleaning out all salt and snacks out of the van; while the girls happily played around him. Since I was suffering horribly with a splitting headache I spent the day in the house rummaging around the totes with the summer clothes. As I'm folding a basket of laundry that has flannel pj's and turtlenecks I am simultaneously filling the girls drawers with t-shirts and capris. I used to think I am the only person who spends hours rotating the clothes, but after my neighbour told me she was up until 1:30am doing the same thing I didn't feel so hopeless.

If you would have told me before I had kids that this is one of the most time consuming jobs ever, I would not have believed you. It is not so bad for Papoosie Girl, I pull out the tote with all of her clothes from last summer, try to figure out what fits; then put it all in her drawers once I empty out the cords and sweaters. It is much harder for Rosebud and after I go through the same process for her I need to make a "too small" pile to pass along to our friends. Then I need to figure out what of Papoosie Girl's clothes will fit Rosebud this summer, not what she just outgrew, but usually the summer before. Then there is the adventure of pulling it all out, figuring out what will fit her (their body shapes are different) and what I still like, etc. I realize this sounds like a load of hooey, but believe me this takes much more time than I ever could have imagined. Not to mention I try to sort the winter stuff I am taking out into piles of "for sure won't fit next fall" and "might fit next fall" to make the next season change easier.

Sometimes I am tempted to dump it all and start fresh, but besides the obvious cost factor that just seems like even more work. Then the funny things is it seems like Rosebud has so many clothes and none all at once...she will have 25 t-shirts that are for play and nothing for going out. Or she will have tons of shorts, but I can't find any capris in the totes. It is like a huge conspiracy so I have to not only sort what I have, but figure out what I need and then make a list and figure out which Grandma is going to take care of it for me.

Yeah yeah I know. BIG problems to have...Trust me if you felt as crappy as me this weekend you would understand this was a problem, albeit tiny. And don't think I have put away all the winter stuff - that is just begging for a snowfall. I did that a few years ago, I put all the winter stuff away only to have the temperatures drop a week later, causing me to stomp to the basement for warmer clothes. Nope this year the turtlenecks and capris will have to live together in the drawers for a few weeks until I am certain winter is really over. Mother Nature can't fool me, nope not this year.
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This was a good weekend...despite all my bitching and complaining. We had a surprise 60th Birthday/Retirement party for my Mom Saturday. It was so much work, but completely worth it and I am sure contributed to my lethargy Sunday, I was wiped out from the party prep. My Mom was shocked and surprised so we did our job...I can't believe she is retiring. It is making me feel a little old today.
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I hope everyone enjoyed the weekend!

Train Tracks

2007-04-19T10:44:00.000-04:00

Right, the other kind. Do kids even say this anymore? The kind of tracks that will crowd my mouth for twenty months while they do their magic on my misaligned teeth. I must admit that up until recently I viewed adults with braces as pretty vain individuals, I would think, "what is the point?" Now that I have met with a very nice orthodontist who assures that me that I too can have perfect (well close) smile I am interested - and vain is right at the top of the list. If all people see is my perfect smile the extra twenty pounds will seem less obvious right?

There is the jaw pain and crowded teeth and problems my front teeth are giving me since they are wearing down alarmingly fast due to the misalignment. Then there is the prospect of once the braces are off and a little "touching up is done to even out my front teeth" of that perfect, white smile. It is very enticing to think it is possible at all at my age. I mean I am not a freak or anything, but my teeth could definitely be straighter.

My teeth have always been crowded and I had one of my bottom teeth pulled at an early age. My original dentist never really offered up any solutions so I never had braces as a child. Once I switched dentists in Grade Nine I met the most amazing dentist who I still see and now my girls see him too. The back story here is that I bit my dentist. Yup, chomped right on his finger after telling several times what he was doing hurt. He told my Mom to take me away immediately and that I was basically not welcome in his office anymore. I realize dentists get bad raps sometimes and no one likes going unless the pain is unbearable - then the dentist is your best friend. This dentist however, deserved the rap.

My new dentist was young, I mean not that much older than me really and back in the day he was the junior guy under a much older dentist who has since retired. Let me say, I love my dentist and that I am terrified of dentists. Over the years I have weaned myself off of the heavy medication I once needed for fillings and root canals. I only got gas for my most recent root canal and if you knew me you would know that is unbelievable.

So back to the braces...I have not decided if I should go ahead or not. It is a lot of money, none of which is covered until our dental benefits. Hubby says to go for it. I keep wavering and putting it off...maybe in the Spring, maybe after my brother's wedding, the thing is the twenty months won't start until I get the things on.

Any of you wear braces? Any thoughts? I realize this is a trivial little dilemma but, I need a little triviality today.

Metal mouth for me?

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Edited to add maybe some dentists get bad "wraps" too many veggies perhaps...but it was a bad "rap" for most dentists that I was referring to....

Monday Musings - Can I talk about this?

2007-04-16T11:10:00.000-04:00

Race.

It is with great and careful thought that I hit the Publish button today. Is this a topic that a white middle-class woman should be raising on her blog? I just read a book that really made me think about race in a way that I haven't in a long time and felt compelled to talk about it. And Mimi posted a great post on class recently and I thought why not.

I am white, my husband while of Greek heritage, is white. My girls are white. In our immediate families everyone is white. We have friends though of all different races and cultures and in fact my husband's four best friends, some going back to Kindergarten are all black. Three have wives that are white and one has a wife that is black. I remember when we first started dating and I was about to meet some of these friends, he told me right before we were about to meet, "you know they are black." I can't remember if I had any expectations then, perhaps I was expecting Greek friends? I don't think so though. Hubby was according to him, "the cool white guy" in the group.

We are all dear friends, all our children are friends and what is amazing is my girls have never commented on the fact that their friends have parents, grandparents and cousins of different colours. Over the years we have spent lots of time together including outings and traveling. I must say I am always shocked at the sideways glances our group causes, the look on people's faces trying to sort us out - who is with who, who do those children belong to. I have had on occasion found myself with one of these great friends alone somewhere. It is difficult to admit, but a black man with a white woman in Toronto still causes people to stare. Is it because he is so darn handsome or I am so cute? Maybe. Or maybe it is because we look different. I have had but a mere taste of it, how do these families do this all the time? I am quite sure they have all faced more intolerance than I will ever know. In terms of our friendship and stage in life, if you closed your eyes you would be hard-pressed to separate us from one another, all of us are university educated and comfortably middle-class and all are raising young families.

It is not a topic I have ever broached with any of them, to be honest we rarely talk about race. We talk about eating, sleeping, potty fun (or lack-there-of), bad words, school, and the many other topics that having small kids and life-long friendships raises. When we do talk about race it is usually something in the media that prompts us, I remember in fact many conversations about OJ Simpson. One of Hubby's friends felt he could have been framed and all the rest of us disagreed -strongly. We all talked openly about it and it didn't cause any real friction, but I wonder now how I would have reacted if I was black. Would I have felt differently about it all?

When we get together we make quite a mosaic. Two of the guys (twins) are of Barbadian heritage, one is Trinidadian and one is Jamaican. On my side of friends we have several interracial (why is there no better word?) families as well. Papoosie Girl's class has 20 students and I would say at least 15 different nationalities represented which makes her class look a little like a child-sized UN convention - I love that. She is in a Roman Catholic school and from my involvement in the school and working on the School Council I can attest that the school is multicultural in attitude as well and embraces all cultures. Our world is made up of many different people representing many different cultures and the girls have lived this way all their lives. When I was in elementary school (before Grade 6 when we moved) my class was nearly all white, very homogeneous. Then when we moved my world exploded and my class was extremely diverse. I so enjoyed learning about other cultures and became fascinated with several, nothing made me happier than getting invited over to someones house for a peek.

I now live in a city that has one of the highest density concentrations of Indo-Canadians in Canada. The largest Hindu temple in Canada is in my city and the city represents people of Punjabi, Gujarati, Tamil and Sindhi backgrounds. Nearly all of my neighbours are of Indian heritage and nearly all are first generation here in Canada. While we don't know all of our neighbours (and not many people do) there is one family we are close with and listening and learning about their struggles is eye-opening and humbling, suddenly my problems seem small.

This high concentration of Indo-Canadians does effect the make-up of the public school system in some neighbourhoods and my friend's son who is in Junior Kindergarten and is white, is the minority. His school is predominantly Indian and there are a handful of other nationalities. His school is vastly different from ours and they are less than a kilometre away. She is planning on switching him to the local Catholic school soon (they are Catholic and wanted him to go to Catholic school, but due to daycare he started in the public system) and wonders what he will think of the new environment.

Oh how I wish I knew where I wanted this discussion to go. The book I was referring to above touched on how we react to race when it hits close to home. The book is by Barbara Delinsky, Family Ties and while it is a work of fiction it hits a nerve. The story follows a white couple who give birth to a baby with distinctly black features. The husband's family is a pedigreed New England family that can trace its roots to the Mayflower, and he devotes his professional life to championing minorities, but he is blindsided by his daughter's color. He urges his wife, whose heritage is unknown, to start digging for answers. The book debates the way we define ourselves and explores the duplicity of political correctness and personal prejudice.* (*The author's own words about the book.)

While the book was a fairly light read, it did make me think and raised many scenarios in my head. How would I react to a baby who looks nothing like me or Hubby? A part of me thinks I would not be bothered at all, it is my baby and I would love it unconditionally. I also sometimes entertain the fantasy of adopting a baby. We have some distant friends who have adopted a little girl from China and it is something I must admit I think about sometimes. A baby born in your heart a friend of mine calls it. Would I love this baby the same, surely I would. My heart swells just thinking of saving a baby from a lifetime of despair and giving them a lifetime of love and security.

That said, I remember a post by Her Bad Mother a while back when WonderBaby had the chickenpox and she felt awful because she was embarrassed a bit by her daughter's blemished appearance, and she posted about how it made her feel. I am guilty as charged of the same thing. I like it when my girls are dressed well, hair tidy, and generally looking their cutest. I am not a fan of taking them out when they are less than that. I am not talking about playing outside or a trip to the park, but when we go out I take pride that they are looking good. Does that make me a bad person to want their hair to be combed? I really don't think so, but if superficial appearance matters what about skin colour?

By sheer coincidence I took out two great books out of the library for the girls, We All Sing with the Same Voice, is a vibrant picture book about race, and all kinds of families. It is so great! It is based on a song they sing on Sesame Street, but I had never heard of it. The message is, no matter what you look like, or where you live, we are all the same where it matters - at heart. I wish it was as simple as all this, really I do. The other book is The World came to my Place Today, and it is a story about a boy named George and his Grandpa and they take a trip around the world talking about how
he drinks orange juice from Spain, eats rice from China and sets sail for Africa in search of chocolate.

"Grandpa shows George and his sister how plants from all over the world affect their daily lives, from the cereal they eat for breakfast to the rubber in their bicycle tires and wood in their toys. The lively, simple text follows George’s day as he discovers the wonder of plants. Eye-catching illustrations are coupled with photographs of grasses, fruits and plants to make a highly original book, building awareness in children of the natural world."

The map of the world, globe and photographs really make this book great, the kind I want to keep. The descriptions are brief enough that I can read it to both the girls as well. Both of these books are a wonderful reminder that the world is much bigger and more diverse than our own little family, school and neighbourhood. I am smart enough to realize that while we can indulge in our interests in learning about other cultures, their are people I know still facing many obstacles solely based on the colour of their skin or the religion they practice. People I know, people in my neighbourhood.

Does anyone else think about these issues? Are you consciously making sure your children are exposed to many cultures? Is it even possible where you live? I am grateful that this generation is so much more tolerant than even when I was in school. Hopefully we are still stepping in the right direction, despite the fact that many other countries seem to operate on an agenda based on fear and intolerance. I want my girls to understand that people really are just people. We all want the same things, to learn, to be loved, to be understood, to have enough to live happy healthy lives.

I wonder sometimes about this little pocket of the blogosphere I have come to call home. We are fairly similar in terms of place in life, mostly all Mom's with small children, but are we really different culturally? Does it matter?

Lots of food for thought this Monday. Let me know what you think if you have the time, I am curious what my smart, kind, bloggy friends think about all this.

Meme too, with questions (and answers)

2007-04-12T10:00:00.000-04:00

Even though I was most tardy in completing the music meme, Alpha DogMa was kind enough to interview me for this very cool meme. Her questions are fab so read on....

ADM: What is the ugliest present you've ever received, and who gave it to you?

R&PG: Here's the deal - even hinting at an answer could potentially hurt someone and I really don't want to do that. I will give you this tidbit though, the strangest gift I received was two Christmas's ago my sister-in-law's boyfriend (grown man as SIL is older than Hubby) gave me KY Warming Massage Oil. I think it was meant to be a joke and he mentioned something about the clever commercials and since I was in marketing I would appreciate it. Huh?! It still makes me wonder sometimes.

ADM: What mammal is your most favourite?

R&PG: I am a classic dolphin girl. I love them and water and being an Aquarius it all just fits. When I was younger I always felt you could divide up girls by those who liked horses versus those who like dolphins. Personally, horses never did a thing for me and all those horse books like Sleeping Beauty were awful in my opinion. Funny thing is that now Hubby works with a client that is all about horses and he is so well versed it isn't even funny. He has taken Papoosie girl along on a couple of events and she is showing great interest, I must work harder to get her in front of the dolphins.

And just so you are thoroughly sick of this I based my honeymoon on a place where I could swim with dolphins. Our resort had a saltwater lagoon and you could visit the dolphins anytime you wanted. It was partly for the guests and a learning facility as well and we saw several school groups visiting early in the morning. Hubby being not a comfortable swimmer meant we did a shallow water experience, but it was amazing and I still smile when I think about it. The swimming with dolphins experience was on a lottery basis for adults (all kids automatically got in during their stay) since there were so many people wanting to get in. I was so obsessed I called from the airport before we even checked in to get my name on the next days list. I dutifully checked on the hotel TV to see if our name had come up for the next day and since it didn't we headed down to breakfast in this tropical paradise. Right after breakfast we started walking around the grounds and ended up a the lagoon. They were calling the names of the people coming to the session and while we are busy admiring the view etc. I kept hearing a name that sounded like it could be ours, but pronounced all wrong. I walked over and long story short it was us, but they could not put our name on the hotel TV since our room number had not been assigned in time. They had been calling and looking for us! Could we be back in our suits in 10 minutes? Yes!!!! What a great beginning to our honeymoon. Fate I say.

So, yeah, dolphins.

ADM: Recipes: hard and fast instructions from which you do not deviate OR basic guidelines that you readily and successfully alter?

R&PG: You are assuming I cook stuff I guess. Well, I think I am a bit of both. For example, I often make stew which I love. When I make my version I add in any veggies I find and simmer for as long as I think. I rarely follow any recipe anymore and even if I pull it out to check I hardly ever look at it. Recently I decided to try a new recipe for stew made in the oven (I usually make mine on the stove or slow cooker) so I tried it. The recipe said you must leave it in the oven or 3 hours and you cannot peak at all or it ruins it. This went against my logic, but it said no peaking or deviating so I followed it to the letter. Let's just say the stew was well-done and barely worth eating. Generally, if I am trying something new I stick to the recipe but, once I have done it once I am on my own.

ADM: Describe your ideal Friday night (can be as fanciful or as real as you wish).

R&PG: Hmmn. With or without kids? I will answer this twice based on with kids or without.

No kids (Fanciful)
Hubby comes home early with plane tickets for a weekend romp to a tropical island somewhere. We spend the weekend frolicking around the surf, eating and watching the stars. His choice would be Paris though, he has been lobbying hard for a weekend in Paris someday.

No kids (Real life)
Hubby comes home early and we go out for a lovely dinner at The Keg and watch a funny and smart movie that is my choice while someone else feeds my girls dinner and puts them to bed. Alternatively, we could skip the movie and and grab a coffee at Starbucks and wander around Chapters for a few hours.

With kids (Fanciful)
Hubby comes home early and we take off for a surprise weekend away at a really cool hotel with a great pool. We spend the weekend frolicking around the hotel pool, eating and lounging around our hotel room together.

With kids (Real life)
Hubby comes home early and we have time to have a nice dinner together and time to play outside together or take a trip to the park together to feed the ducks. Come home and have time for a game with the girls before bed. They fall asleep and we watch Survivor from the PVR. Sounds perfect.

ADM: People sometimes ask if we will try for a third child and hope for a daughter - do you get the reverse question an how do you respond?

R&PG: People do ask us sometimes if we are planning to try for a boy, usually looking at me of course. Um, talk to Hubby he's got the goods not me for making a boy - is my standard type answer. My general disdain for these types of questions is the assumption that we somehow have a choice and that there is a wrong way for a family to be, so insulting in the first place.

I have said this before that I really wanted a daughter and was thrilled when Papoosie Girl was born. This was based on my very limited experience with small boys. I will admit I love the clothes and long hair and the general girlishness of it all. That doesn't answer the question does it? So, yes we are asked and usually I just make some flip remark, sometimes nice and sometimes not. It depends on who is asking, for example, when my mother-in-law hints around I tell her for about $30,000 we could do gender sorting and ask if she is interested. Usually, stops the questions. And to be fair her questions are usually very tame, more like anytime I don't feel like coffee, I get the excited, "are you pregnant?" That reminds me of something else I once said when asked and it was something like, "I had better not be since Hubby has been working such long hours it could not be his".

Since we truly are still on the fence and have not decided either way if we are going to have another child the question does come up. Many of our friends say to us you know when you are done and many have, uh, permanently taken care of this decision. My dearest friend is currently pregnant with number three and while I am thrilled I (we) just are not sure yet. Our big trip this past summer gave us a taste of freedom of travel and movement and we keep seeing the light at the end of the tunnel getting brighter. It is not to say we don't wonder about another child. More love of course is high up there, another sibling for the girls another, but really we have no clue. So I guess we will have questions for a while longer. One more thing, Hubby is so fulfilled with the girls and does all kinds of "boy" things with them he is probably the only one who thinks trying for a boy is ridiculous. A deep part of me though would love to give him a son. Lame maybe, but the honest-to-God truth. Hubby is a deep, complex combination of "man's man" and "sensitive male". Put it this way, he knows more about crystal and china than I do and went to the Super Bowl last year to watch his team win. A part of me wonders just what kind of boy we would have?

I hope that covers it all. These are beginning to be fun. I think this is the part where I am supposed to offer someone else the chance to be interviewed - so if there is anyone who has not done this yet and is interested let me know.

*Hi Hubby, welcome to your grand debut!

Monday Musings - WWWWWH

2007-04-09T10:15:00.000-04:00

Since I have started blogging my initial thoughts about it have changed so much. When I started I really had no clue about blogging and was really just tracking down Catherine Newman (Ben & Birdy) after she left Baby Centre. I ended up clicking on her commenter's and once I found Bub & Pie she lead me to a whole wonderful world of (mostly) Mommy-blogs here in my neighbourhood and around the world. One single blog, Catherine's led me to another single blog, and then my world exploded. I could not get through her list of blogs fast enough. I compared it to a buffet then, saying I know I'm full but I just can't help myself and kept going back for more. This community is just so full of wonderful people that I could not help being a part of it. I wanted to play - bad.

This drove me to really start my own blog, more than the "hi" posts. So far much of my blog, like much of my life is about my girls. I don't get to comment on current events nearly enough (in either) life real or otherwise. My days are a kind of Groundhog Day (the movie, not the actual day) blur of events associated with small children and managing a family. Central to this was me getting my laptop. The only computer at home during the day (Hubby takes his laptop back and forth) was in the basement and it is not a marvel of latest technology. It worked though and it is what I launched my blog from so I still have a soft spot for it. Once I got a recycled laptop and I could blog, and more importantly read from the kitchen table, my addiction was sealed.

I really believe this is a community in every sense that matters to me. I give and get something from this space each time I visit and while I don't want to get into a debate on the validity of the term community, I encourage people to think of in terms of "community without propinquity" that is how I view it. In university, as part of my Urban Studies program I studied the Sociologist Melvin Webber who argued that individuals were connected in an overlapping range of groups, and that increasingly these social networks were not limited by physical or geographical location. The built form, the brick and mortar becomes less important in defining our sense of community. The quality of cultural life is not defined by where you live, but by the exchange of information you participate in. Previous theories were rooted in the view of social and spatial interaction based on population distribution and density.

While I had to brush up a bit on the theory right now, I do remember it vividly from university. Hubby was the first one to say out loud that the blogging community is the very essence of Webber's theories. I blog with people very close to me geographically, but is not at all dependent on whether they become a part of my blogging community. One of my dearest blogging friends is halfway across the country in the West, and many others are less than a twenty minute drive away should we choose to see each other.

I feel no need to debate the definition of community (not that some of the debates haven't been very interesting), in my mind it is quite clear. My needs are met and my opinions welcome based on who I am not where I live. This community reaches out to those of us geographically surrounded by people yet feel so alone and to the people who actually are geographically alone as well. In that sense there is no difference for these two people in joining or participating in this community, they can take as little or as much as they want. What surprises me most about this journey is the passion I feel for this community, I am quick to challenge people who are less knowledgeable tossing out arguments about blogging that are unfounded. I know I am truly a part of this - no matter how small or provincial my blog might be, when I feel so protective of it.

I think I have covered the who, what, why, when, where and how of it all. I so remember this little formula from my earliest book report days. I just might make Monday Musings a regular feature as I do have a little (lot...) of blog envy for the wonderful Flashback Friday's and other weekly features I look forward to reading. I can't promise they will all be "thinky" or even fun to read, but still a weekly feature that sounds lofty and grand doesn't it? Blogging for me is more than a source of entertainment or a resource for figuring out how to get my child to poop as I originally thought it would be to me. It is something I really enjoy doing that gives back to me so much more than I ever thought possible. I have a real life, family, friends, and yet this fills a hole none of that can. A space I don't think I even realized I had until I started. Blogging has become a community of friendly faces and words, a place where I feel at home. I feel smarter, more aware, and more compassionate since blogging. What started as a way to preserve and record my family history has really become an outlet for me to grow. Funny how that worked out. If you had tried to tell me this even a few months ago I would have scoffed at the idea.

Thanks to all my blogging friends, this community has really given me something special.

Let me know what you think. Does anyone else see it this way? I'm curious I guess.

*Edited to fix a small error...noticed in Beck's comment. Oops.

Meme too, set to music

2007-04-05T13:55:00.000-04:00

*Sorry to edit twice! The formatting went horribly awry.

This meme is horribly overdue and now the interview meme (thanks for the questions Alpha DogMa I will work on it soon) is all the rage, but that won't stop me from finishing this one. If I am one thing it is good on my word and I promised Alpha DogMa I would do this. So what if I kind of changed the rules a bit, I am doing it right?! Maybe I'll even add a good poop story to distract in a kind of smoke and mirrors way, if only Rosebud pooped that is - we are on day five of no action, and that is with several meds. Oh the Joys always writes about poop and everyone loves her poopiness, maybe it could work for me. So now that everyone is suitably distracted on with the show, not that there really was a story mind you - that happens when there is no poop to write about.

The original meme was to list seven songs you are into right now. Since this would out me as horribly boring and clueless of current music I have decided to mix it up a bit. I had the idea to do an 80's version since many of my favourite songs are from the 80's, but Sunshine beat me to it; so my version is seven songs I have been obsessed with at various points in my life. Why I think this is any less revealing of my lameness is not completely understood. So anyhoo...

For the record there was a time I was all about music, new and otherwise. I vividly remember sitting in my room with my tape recorder held up to my radio, taping the CHUM FM Top 30 each week, waiting patiently for my favourite songs to come on. My radio with built in cassette player was years away. Once I started dating (let's call him Mr. Wrong, the dreaded Man/Child with whom I spent eight long years) my music taste broadened. We were forever going downtown to Sam the Record Man and trolling the Import section for music. I will give him this, we were usually listening to stuff that would not make airways here in Canada for several years. Some of it I liked and some I didn't, but at least I was a little more aware of what was out there. Oh, I was still the queen of pop smultz don't get me wrong.

Nowadays I drive about 3 minutes to Papoosie Girl's school and back (detour at Tim's of course) and really only catch a few minutes of my easy-listening morning show in hopes they might talk about the weather since I am not so good at checking before we leave the house. Rain!? Where did that come from? If I do venture on a long drive I sometimes pop in a CD or listen to the radio, but usually I savour the silence. Now those who know me know that there is very little silence in my life. Chatty Mom = chatty girls. So to reveal my source of silence will out me as one of those people...hmmm. Truth all the way for this blogger, since I was never good at lying - think stuttering and scarlet cheeks. Our van has a DVD player (ducks in shame while good parents cluck wildly about such a thing) and I must admit I like it. I wish I could say our other car is a hybrid to make up for this, but it is not. It is a much smaller, more fuel-efficient car though if that helps.

When hubby's car was coming off lease we knew we wanted something a bit bigger to lug around all our stuff. We do a lot of weekend trips and drive quite a bit to visit family so making the jump to a minivan was natural. We were not really interested in any of the modest sized SUV's as they didn't have much more room than the car we were giving up. So we got a minivan for a fantastic deal since we bought in November when they were trying to get rid of the current year models and while the DVD player was not the deal-breaker it was a lovely bonus from our negotiations. I did briefly toy with the idea of not telling the girls, just not using it. Yeah right. I will say we do not use it for short trips, but once we hit a highway to somewhere, you can find it humming along. Did I mention the headphones? I never give them to the girls I just usually tune out the movie and drive along quite happily with my thoughts. Hubby likes for us to be able to listen to music so he gives them the headphones (again this is not very often - think driving to London to visit friends) I am usually amused and disgusted by these things on my girls heads. But I have to say it is a damn quiet ride.

So what the hell was I saying? Oh yeah the music meme, right so I used to listen to music and now I don't so much.

Seven Songs I have been obsessed about in random order:

1) When Doves Cry-Prince
I had a very big Prince thing in general and this song was a big favourite. I could listen to it over and over and never get sick of it, like all of my obsessions songs. I felt like these lyrics were speaking to me. I think it will become evident as you go through the list that many of these songs are telling the same story if you know what I mean. Keep reading.

How can you just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold)
Maybe I'm just too demanding...

2) White Flag-Dido
This sums up the eight year Mr. Wrong situation, in nicer words than I could ever come up with. It was very hard to get out of this relationship for reasons I will take to my grave. In many ways there is just no getting over something like this , instead you move on, and in a way that says you have surrendered.

I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,
Or tell you that.
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it
where's the sense in that
I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were

3) You Oughta Know-Alanis Morissette
Gotta love a woman scorned. Any of the lyrics from this song would have been good. I loved this whole CD in fact.

Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able
To make it enough for you to be open wide, no
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me you'd hold me
Until you died, till you died
But you're still alive

4) Time of My Life- Green Day
I have always loved this song while I have never been a huge Green Day fan. This song just strikes a cord with me and not just because it was on the series finale of Beverly Hills 90210.

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time

5) You Were Mine-Dixie Chicks
I always refer to this song as the "divorce" song in my head. It is a little known track from the Wide Open Spaces CD. I had never listened to Dixie Chicks until I saw them at Lilith Fair in August of 1999. They performed Wide Open Spaces and I liked them and the song. They didn't seem to take any crap. I got the disk and listened, this song made me cry and still does each and every time I hear it. My parents were divorced when I was quite young and there is still that little raw part of my child heart that never got over it. I actually liked a few tracks from Wide Open Spaces and really love their current hit Not Ready to Make Nice, I admire how they didn't back down from their convictions even if it meant smaller venues and reduced record sales.

I can give you two good reasons to show you love's not blind
He's two and she's four, and you know they adore you,
So how can you tell them you've changed your mind

6) King of Spain-Moxy Fruvous

Bonus points if you know who they are. I went to York University and had several classes with Jian Ghomeshi (he was Jean then though) and this was the band he was in. He now dabbles in TV and radio and has a new daily national radio show launching on CBC Radio One this month. In the York days I thought he was political, charming, exotic (Persian!), and so nice. I was not available (Mr. Wrong still), but Jian would often give me tickets to performances. I did manage to see them twice and still prefer my indie cassette to my CD. The songs were fun and smart and I was so into that, they put on a great show too. How could I not mention the hair, those long luscious curls? He was the guy I would never think of myself as worthy enough of - looking back I just feel sad for that girl.

Once I was the King of Spain - now I eat humble pie
A palatial palace, that was my home - now I eat humble pie
I'm telling you I was the King of Spain - now I eat humble pie
And now I vacuum the turf at SkyDome

Well, this has been a treat diving into the mosh pit of my psyche...last but not least

7) You Raise Me Up-Josh Groban
While I have never listened to any contemporary Christian music and I am not sure if he is mainstream or not, I really was into this song for a while. I still like in fact, just not in that endless repeat kind of way. It makes me feel good and often reminds me of my father. It is strange to be so young and not have a parent, although I realize I am not alone. You feel a bit like an orphan sometimes, like how things would be different if I had a father in my life. I say any song that makes you feel a bit better is a good one.

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

**************************************************

If you have made it to the end, I thank you for indulging me. I have always enjoyed all the trip down memory lane posts and I can see why they are such good reading. Looking back is a way to understand the present, a way to discern how the light shines on your life and how you turn your face up to enjoy it.

Off the clock

2007-03-28T21:37:00.000-04:00

I am not sure if any of the great GTA area bloggers are heading to LifeFest this weekend, but I am! And, the best part is that we (two friends) and myself have booked ourselves a hotel room and we are making it a little weekend get-a-way. We will trip around LifeFest and fill our bags with all the freebies, attend some of the presentations and workshops, listen to some of the speakers like Jann Arden and Jane Fonda, and generally do whatever we want for 24 hours! This will also include lots of eating (not so much drinking since we are all sadly not that kind of crowd) oh but we can eat. This will be followed by sleeping, maybe 10 or even 12 hours. We plan to go to the spa too. Bring it on.

While I cannot wait I am a little stressed making it all happen, if you know what I mean. We have a school council function Thursday night so I will be out late on my last night at home. Then there are the arrangements for the girl, who is picking up who when and all that. Naturally, Papoosie Girl's asthma has flared up just in case I needed something else to worry about. But, once hubby gets home from work Friday he is on his own for the weekend and it was actually his idea. He wanted me to get away for my birthday, but this seemed like a better idea to combine it with the show.

This is my fourth time going to the show so I am really looking forward to it. It is a lot of fun to wander around and check everything out.

So friends, I will be back next week. I think Rosebud is due for a post. That and the damn music meme sitting in draft. Toodle-loo for now.

So you think you can dance

2007-03-26T16:49:00.000-04:00

Yeah if you are Papoosie Girl! Yesterday Papoosie Girl had her dance recital at the lovely Rose Theatre. She started classes in September and practiced every week at class and at home. She danced to a song called Johnny Angel and of course they all looked like little angels.

When she started dance classes at three and a half through our local Parks and Recreation program she was in the non-recital type of "kinderdance" where they did not have a formal recital. They performed for the parents on the last day in the classroom. They showcased their soldier marches and fairy skips and it was oh so adorable. She did this type of program for two years. Last year she decided she wanted to dance on a stage for "real" people. She was finally old enough to try one of the "Try It" classes and she choose Beginner Jazz. She performed at a local theatre (the recital moved to a bigger theatre this year) and thirteen of us clapped until it hurt. She loved it and a star was born. I must say I am most impressed with our local Parks and Rec programs. I have tried just about every preschool class, swimming and now dance classes. When we first looked at private swimming and dance classes they were nearly three times the cost. I would always encourage everyone to try your local classes out, we have been pleasantly surprised.

Papoosie Girl loves music and since we bought her a small boom box for her room (a decision I might regret later) she loves taking my CD's up to her room to dance and prance around with her sister. Despite her love of music and considerable practice the last few years she still seems to lack, um, rhythm. Hubby tries valiantly with songs like, We are Family, to get her to feel the beat and clap in turn. While she has energy and lots of exuberance she lacks the ability to pick up the beat sometimes. Rosebud on the other hand has an incredible sense of rhythm and can clap to the beat quite well. If she would just poop in the potty she could take dance herself! We are hopeful by sign-up in September that little problem is resolved. I myself wouldn't exactly be called a dancer either and I think Papoosie Girl takes after me. Hubby on the other hand has benefited from all the Greek folk-dancing classes he took as a child, he can also read music and has played several instruments. My only memory from my clarinet days in Grade 6 was the teacher asking me (at the end of the test) if I knew what these were - he was pointing at the rests in the music.

So Papoosie Girl may lack the God given talent to keep the beat, who cares. She loves to dance at home and at her class. Many of her pretend games involve her dancing with her sister and I could not be more thrilled. When something as simple as a song and a dance skirt can make her so happy why would I care that she is a little off-step? Next September she wants to try Beginner Acro where they combine jazz with some basic acrobatic steps. Since she has never tried gymnastics I am not sure she will be able to do all the moves, but who am I to say no. Dance class has given her a wonderful sense of accomplishment, a healthy dose of self confidence and gets her moving. Not once did she say she was nervous about the recital.

Is she ever going to appear on So you think you can dance? I doubt it. A show, for the record, I had never heard of until my 25 year brother joked about it at the recital. I don't care if she spends the rest of her days jumping around her bedroom and the rest of the house shaking our walls. She loves music and dancing and her willingness to get out there and do it are inspiring. I have toyed with idea of signing up for the Hawaiian Dance class for adults for years, I think this might be the year.

There really are no words to properly explain the joy Papoosie Girl gets from dancing, her entire body is an instrument. While I have never been a country music listener there is a song by Lee Ann Womack called I Hope You Dance that somehow pops into my head sometimes watching her dance.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance....I hope you dance.

I hope that you get a chance to dance too, I hope we all do.

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Photo Comment:
Yes, she is wearing make-up in the photo. Part of performing in a theatre recital program is wearing make-up to the recital. If you don't want your child to wear any you need to make some special arrangements. It is so you can see their faces under the bright stage lights, in the professional photos and the video. Last year I was all set to jump on my high-horse and protest "they are children!" and spew all kinds of beauty pageant stuff, but I didn't . She wore a bit of make-up for three hours and we washed it off. This is the professional shot of Papoosie Girl from the class. It is strange to see her with a "done-up" face and Hubby was really put off I must say. In the end it is make-up not pole dancing and she wore it for a few hours at her recital and we washed it away. In the end I was fine with that. Please know she would never, ever do this for any other reason. There are a lot people who would disagree with this and that is fine. Just setting the record straight. I have had to eat a few bowls of crow in the last few years, applying a bit of make-up to my 6 year old was certainly a healthy portion. At the end of the day she had a fantastic experience and loves dancing with or without make-up. I think I have said enough.

Ambushed, do you hear me?

2007-03-21T15:15:00.000-04:00

I hate being ambushed, by anything. I don't take well to sudden proclamations of engagement, pregnancy, surprise parties, well; anything really. I like to be in the know, to have a pretty good idea of what is coming down the pipe. My easy access to the Internet has only fueled my need to know. I check store hours, directions, stock, prices, age requirements, height requirements, check-in hours, pool hours, any detail I think I might need before doing whatever it is I need to do. Rarely do I venture out for something without the item already set aside for me or a clear idea of what it is I am going to be doing. I have confessed to the occasional carefree, spur-of-the-moment days I truly do enjoy, but they are not my preferred state of existence.

So this morning when our phone rang several times as Rosebud and I were upstairs, and running into my bedroom and all the way around to the other side of the bed seemed too taxing; we let it ring. Suddenly, my cellphone that I keep in the diaper bag starts to ring too; now I am hightailing it down the stairs.

Papoosie Girl is in the office at school, and is extremely upset and in pain. Her ear is hurting and they want me to come and pick her up right away. After quick changes for myself and Rosebud we are off to pick-up Papoosie Girl who is sitting on the bench in the office clutching her ear. Bugger. She was fine this morning, usual breakfast, TV, off to school. No runny nose, no high fever in the middle of the night (our usual ear infection calling card), just serious ear pain. Our doctor closes at noon on Wednesday's so I make a hasty call (it is 11:50am) and the wonderful receptionist who has known me since before I even had the girls says to come on over, there will be a wait, but just head over. Lucky break as I really hate taking the girls to walk-in clinics. Don't think for a second I don't know how lucky we are to have a family doctor, many of our friends live in communities where they rely exclusively on walk-in clinics.

After an hour of waiting we see the doctor who examines her ear and declares it, "quite red and angry" he gives us a prescription and says to take some Advil for the pain. OK I am not new at this, how can this go undetected? Papoosie Girl had tubes in her ears at the age of two after a year of chronic ear trouble and has always been extremely sensitive to ear pain. Suddenly I feel a bit sick for making her finish her spelling homework sheets last night. Was it hurting then and that is why she was having trouble concentrating? More bugger.

Despite being in the trenches for six years now I felt so horribly unqualified today. What kind of parent misses a "bad" ear infection. Sigh. I need a cup of tea real bad and since Rosebud is finally down for her nap and Papoosie Girl is all medicated and quite cozy reading in my bed (our sick spot in our house) I am going to do just that.

Does anyone else feel like this sometimes? Things you have covered a million times before are somehow missed in the shuffle of life with small children. I know I am not the only one, but boy did I feel a bit new today. Now I am replaying the last few days in my head fruitlessly looking for clues I might have missed. Was she more cranky than usual, more difficult? She certainly never said her ear was bothering her, but wouldn't a good parent have picked up on it? All will be well and most likely forgotten in a few days, but I am amazed at how these moments present themselves to me as if to say, know matter how much you think you have figured this out - there is a long road ahead of you. I can hardly wait, and I really mean that. Just maybe send me long, detailed memo first?

Milestones

2007-03-19T22:40:00.000-04:00

No not the restaurant, not that the salad with those spicy pecans isn't pretty good. Papoosie Girl lost her first tooth this past week! Actually, lost is not exactly true, I kind of pulled it (gently!) out for her. She has been having a bit of a problem with her bottom two middle teeth (technical name?) as her "big" grown-up teeth are already in behind her baby teeth. The dentist encouraged her to wiggle as much as possible as the grown-up teeth need their space and those baby teeth need to make an exit - fast. If not they will need to be pulled in the next few weeks. So finally, one of them got a little wiggly. Of course after a crazy March Break filled with a fun trip to Niagara Falls for a few days and many errands and outings I was not exactly paying close attention to said teeth.

One night after supper she told me it was loose and being the ever-present-in-the-moment Mom I had a close look, discussed it carefully with her, and gently told her what I was doing and pulled it out ever so softly. Or, if you had a spy-cam in my house you would know it was more like, yeah yeah it is loose, "great honey" while I was busy doing something important like picking up the blankets and pillows from the floor for the sixth time in the past hour. I did manage to peer in right before bath and I could see the tooth (kind of gross but accurate description) could bend all the way over in both directions. I took a facecloth and without really thinking asked to have a closer look and - yikes - pulled it out. I was surprised at how much it bled, but after lots of rinsing with cold water all was well and she was thrilled.

By now you have probably figured out I didn't exactly think this through so well. Now I am in a whole new territory involving that ever stylish tooth chaser, the Tooth Fairy. We have a dilemma, several actually, but I am getting ahead of myself. We girls are flying solo on this night as Daddy is working late. Papoosie Girl is desperate to show Daddy the tooth and is so excited we make a few calls to Daddy and Nana to share our good news. She begins to regale me with stories of classmates who have received $5 and even $10 from the Tooth Fairy, at this point all I can think of is, what is in my wallet, anything?

At this point my girls are clean and we are back downstairs for our milk and snack before bed. Papoosie Girl is extremely upset because she wants to simultaneously leave her tooth for the Tooth Fairy and keep it to show Daddy. Thinking as fast as one can at 7pm after being with two small children all day, I suggest we write a quick note to the Tooth Fairy asking if we can, under these special circumstances, keep the tooth. We have several books that talk about losing teeth and a critical component of this transaction that has not gone unnoticed by Papoosie Girl, is the fact that the tooth is taken away. She is genuinely distressed about this and decides to not even leave the tooth at all, just forfeit any potential loot to keep her tooth. After much convincing we decide to write a note to the Tooth Fairy asking for permission to keep the tooth. So the note goes into the baggie with the tooth.

So now she lies fast asleep, with her tooth and note in a baggie under her pillow and I face yet another dilemma. What will the Tooth Fairy say to Papoosie Girl and how much money, if any at all will she leave? This is when having a hard-working husband who works long hours sucks. I called my best friend who like me thinks anything beyond a loonie or twoonie is ridiculous. Since I have a twoonie and no loonie, a twoonie it is. Now I have the loot, I need to work on the note. As you can see I was not very creative by this time...not to mention I am getting a little scared she is going to notice soon that Santa, the Easter Bunny, and Tooth Fairy have similar penmanship. So the note is removed from the baggie and the card from the Tooth Fairy is left on her desk with her tooth.

Whew. I was exhausted by the end of the evening. This little milestone not only made me so wistful for the day when that little tooth broke through for the first time, it made me so sad to realize these milestones are making way for other accomplishments. Like everyone I poured over the checklists of milestones. Holds head up, smiles, coos, rolls over, sits, first tooth, stands, walks; and always was thrilled when one of the girls hit the milestone. I diligently kept track of the ages of each of these and was always looking forward to the next one. Now Papoosie Girl's milestones are so lofty as reading, writing, adding and subtracting. While these thrill me in so many ways, I pine sometimes for those baby steps in the first few years. My heart aches a little when I see her gap-toothed smile. Where are all those perfect Chicklet baby teeth going? I don't want to see my daughters wee six year old mouth full of those monster grown-up teeth. Is it bad to admit that I love her perfect baby teeth?

The flood of emotions caught me off guard. I had never given much thought to losing teeth since Papoosie Girl's have been so firmly intact. It is a visible sign every time she smiles that she is growing up, a real punch in the gut. How can you want so badly to see and meet this person your child is becoming and at the same time miss the baby they were so much you feel sick?

Milestones are like that. As much as you eagerly await them, they bring you one step further away from where you started.

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Technical Edit Note:
I fought long and hard with iPhoto to edit the top photo to remove the TV and to rotate that image and by gosh it did edit and rotate every time, it just never stayed....so sorry to those more capable than I who are cringing right about now.

How much is enough?

2007-03-08T10:00:00.000-05:00

A couple of things of late have led me to this topic. I have just read Peter Walsh's new book, It's all too Much - An Easy Plan for Living a Richer Life with Less Stuff. I thought this book would be a nuts and bolts plan for decluttering your life and it does cover that. The real purpose though is to figure out why you are keeping so much stuff and why you keep buying more stuff. Walsh blames our constant need for more on a lot of this, that and the fact that we cannot seem to part with anything. We are lured by the words 2 for 1 or buy 1 get 2 free and this supplies our homes with a steady supply of stuff; this coupled with our inability to get rid of anything means we are drowning within our own walls.

This premise, that what we covet and so actively seek out for our own happiness, is actually what is making us so unhappy and unhealthy is what interested me. Your stuff starts to own you and this what Walsh tries to uncover. He makes reference to the fact that while the average house size (in the US) has gone up by half the self-storage facility industry has grown by 75%. Apparently, people are more than willing to store it rather than sort it. I find that so unbelievable.

"We are at the center of an orgy of consumption, and many are now seeing that this need to own so much comes with a heavy price: Kids so overstimulated by the sheer volume of stuff in their home that they lose the ability to concentrate and focus."

This book is great and goes beyond the idea of buying a few totes and stashing things away. He has focused plans for each room and walks you through the steps. In the end, most people realize that all the stuff that they "could not live without" is easily given up and not missed a bit. Walsh talks about imagining the life you want. Is your home your refuge from the world, your place to connect as a family? His plans help you achieve that. While I don't have a horrible clutter problem now, I used to. I have come to realize that keeping a few choice precious mementos is more meaningful than boxes of stuff. If your use of space doesn't match your priorities Walsh can help. Sorting the memories or perceived value of an item, from the actual item is key and this is Walsh's specialty.

Since Alpha Dogma tagged me for a long forgotten meme I am going to use this book since I was planning on talking a bit about it anyway. Here are the instructions:

Find the nearest book. Name the Author & title. Turn to page 123. Post sentences 6-8. Tag three more people. (Tagging not likely since this made the rounds a while ago.)

Page 123-This is the second page of Chapter 3 Family and Living Rooms. Here are the sentences (as best as I can there a few bullets in the area):

Gary and Marie have three young children. They live in an 1,800-square foot home. When I first saw their living room it was a catch-all for anything you can imagine - clothing, books, mail, the kids' toys, crafting materials, even two large stacks of romance novels that Marie had recently collected from her grandmother's home.

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Bub & Pie's recent post about narcissism and the subsequent thought-provoking comments also got me thinking about how much is enough these days. This applies to so many things (see above), how many toys, books, time with you, time without you, time as a couple, activities, lessons, the list is endless. We talk a lot in the blogging world about balance, how to achieve it and if it is even possible.

Christmas 2005 we decided that each girl was going to get five gifts. I picked five as a random number and it just stuck. We don't give the girls any gifts from us just from Santa. So five gifts from Santa and their stockings. Leading up the holidays I found myself struggling to come up the one gift, you know the one, the one they gasp over and won't put down for days. Since I had "given away" many of the gifts I knew they really wanted to grandparents, aunts, uncles, godparents and friends; my list was a little dry. Feeling stupid for not saving at least one for us to give the girls I came up with idea of sticking to five gifts and that could include pajamas, books and toys.

In the end I did come up with some great and well used and loved gifts. My girls were completely happy and satisfied Christmas morning and it was not at all hours of endless gift opening and tossing. What I wasn't prepared for though were some of the comments from some of our friends. Many clearly felt five gifts was pretty chintzy and I was shocked. How many gifts does a one year old or three year old need? I mean they get gifts from at least six other sources, as it was I felt they were getting too much. I am no Scrooge I promise you, but when I am struggling to come up with gifts they would truly love and play with - the key word being struggle - you know they are not wanting for anything. They can always use more books and passes to places like the zoo or Science Centre are always appreciated, but really more crap - no thanks.

We are still sticking by our rule three years later and I think it is great. I know exactly how many to buy for each girl and it forces me to think a little harder. One family we know bought each child over twenty gifts to open and several were the big ticket items. I just don't see the point of that. They also let one of their children spend all of their birthday money in Toys R Us a month before Christmas. While I am not at all a wooden toys and cloth dolls only Mom - Nickelodeon characters are my friends - I sure value the quality gifts much more than another plastic piece of junk that will be broken or forgotten in a few days.

This theory also applied to our "big trip" last summer to Disney World. Hubby felt strongly at first that this was just too much to give them at such an early age. Would they start expecting such grand holidays all the time? We used all our Air Miles and loyalty points so the flights, hotel and car rental were covered - what I am getting at it is it isn't likely another trip of this scale will be happening for quite some time. Turns out we all had an amazing time, the reconnection as a family without any distractions was just what we needed. They talk about our trip all the time, but show no signs of being spoiled about it all. They were more than thrilled with our three day trip to Collingwood over the Christmas holidays.

I think we are just used to getting and giving too much. With dollar stores in every plaza and toys chests in every restaurant kids (and us too) are used to walking away with something in our hands. Don't get me wrong I love to shop, it is recreational for me sometimes, but I have seen the hazards of tripping over hundreds of dollar store toys. What is the point? Why do you need a hundred of something when a handful will suffice. In terms of giving, when did we create so many new holidays and occasions? We have the requisite Mother's and Father's Day, Easter and Valentine's Day, and now there are St. Patrick's Day gifts and cards in stores. Even engagements and baptisms have become a reason to have a fancy party. More and more frequently we are being invited to these type of parties, and by this I mean, 50+ people, sit-down dinner, often dancing, and oh yeah a gift or envelope. I mean I am happy for them and all and I would encourage them to have a lovely dinner with both sets of parents, but I have been to these engagement parties where if the priest had been willing we could have been done with it on the spot. Add to this the shower and wedding gifts and it really does seem overboard.

I worry that I am becoming a big old curmudgeon. I would never want my kids to want for anything, but more and more I am realizing more is not necessarily better; in fact it IS worse. A blog I wish I had more time to visit My Dog Harriet posted recently about an article in New York Magazine and the hazards of over praising, which ties in so nicely with Bub & Pie's post. This is something I have long thought and have commented on before on other blogs. Following around little Timmy all day with a steady stream of, "good job and you are the best" cannot be good for a child. How do they know when they really are doing a good job? What about when they know they are not trying hard and are getting the same recognition as when they do? Go read the article you will be amazed at the connections they make between self-esteem and over praising; feeding right in to the narcissism debate. You will be surprised when you realize that we all absently do this, especially when our little prodigies are holding up something for us to see and we are busy doing something else.

Where is this all going? We are constantly surrounded by too much stuff. It might be physical stuff like toys, books or clothes. It might be media that floods into your life on every possible channel. It might be giving too much praise (or the wrong kind) to your children. I think it is important that however you define balance for your family, that you actively try to achieve it. Personally, when I let things slide is usually when I feel my most scattered and helpless. When I make an effort to stay present and in control of our stuff we have more time for the things we love doing, whether it is a Scrabble game before bed or a trip to the park.

More and more I am working on making our home and our lives less filled with stuff. When this happens my life opens up to all the other things I want to fill it with and that makes me feel good inside. I will never shun shopping or toys for my kids, but I will try very hard to limit the flow coming into our house. I love a good Coach bag as much as the next gal, but I don't need twenty purses, one or two will do. Now the new Aerosole sandals I saw...that is another story.

How quickly things change

2007-03-06T11:24:00.000-05:00

I went to Papoosie Girl's school today to register Rosebud for Junior Kindergarten in the fall. It seems like yesterday we were registering Papoosie Girl. I remember so clearly heading over to the school so nervous and nauseous over the fact that my baby was going to be in school soon. Rosebud was an infant in her car seat and slept through the entire thing. I remember carefully gathering all the forms and required information before we went. Birth certificate - check - Baptismal certificate - check - Yellow immunization thing - check, check, check. Hubby came home early, it certainly was an occasion.

I remember walking into the school feeling very excited and scared and wondering how on earth is my little baby girl going to manage in this big bad school. It did not help that registration was two months after her third birthday and she was still in pull-ups at the time. I remember the reverence of the occasion and the fact that hubby left work early so we could be there right at 7pm. I remember the irrational, unavoidable things running circles in my head, would they like us, would they like her, would they see the unique, special, gifted girl that we so clearly did?

Once the forms were completed (there were many!) we looked around a bit and met the principal and vice-principal (both women) and felt a bit better about handing over our precious, delicate, no one knows her better than us firstborn; in a few short months. The school is relatively small, around 450 kids at the time and the atmosphere was very friendly. Despite my trepidations I did feel that Papoosie Girl would be in good hands. We left our registration experience relieved and thankful we had several months before September and this started for real.

After our meet the teacher night in early September and our staggered visits to the school throughout early September, it was finally time for her first real day of school with half of the class. I was so much more overwhelmed than I thought I would be. We got her dressed oh so cute in her skirt and top and Dora shoes and strapped on her Dora backpack that was as big as she was. I had a lump in my throat and tried to put on a brave face for everyone, especially Papoosie Girl. Once she was in the little yard, we waited for the bell and watched her walk inside. As you can see from the photo, letting go is so hard sometimes. Parents are not allowed inside at all in her school and what the photos don't show are some parents trying to pry off screaming children from around their necks. How was Papoosie Girl you ask? Fine of course, no tears, no drama, a smile and a wave and she was gone.

Once she was inside I told hubby to head to work, Rosebud and I were going for a walk. After walking and crying for a while I headed to our local grocery store that has a little cafe area. I grabbed a coffee and sat down. Hubby walks in about a minute later, he tried to go to work but decided he needed to see me again, to make sure I wasn't as unraveled as he felt. I remember thinking I have children and they are old enough to go to school, how did that happen? When did she get so big? I say this every day practically, with almost no recollection of the hundreds of times I have said it before. These kids, they get big so fast and each time you realize it - it is like realizing it for the first time again and again.

So back to today. Certainly, this was not an occasion on the same scale as it was for Papoosie Girl. I am a member of the School Council, I am familiar with the school, the principal, secretary and many teachers. I frequently visit the school and certainly do not feel nervous or sick upon entering these halls. I popped into the office, got the forms, filled them out and that was it. Rosebud wanted to visit the fish in the library before we left, so we did. And that was it, done. She is officially registered for JK in the fall. No drama, no anxiety other than I feel really old today. Me, school-age kids, what?

I am sure I will be nervous on Rosebud's first day of school, anxious even at the thought of her starting school. It really is a huge step when school enters a child's life. It is a lifelong relationship they are starting with school and learning. A relationship I enjoyed so much as a child and want to pass along in my girls - badly. I want them to love school, want to learn, be curious, make friends, grow up and save the world - a parent can dream. Actually, my dreams and goals for them are not so important. I want them to realize their own, whatever they might be. I know that a good foundation in learning will take them wherever their hearts desire. If I am measured by nothing else but this, I will have done a remarkable thing in my lifetime.

Today was the first step for Rosebud. Even if the day was not a colossal event of time's past, it was important and I am glad I have recorded it. The relaxed visit to the school today might have been a big change, but that is fine by me. Sometimes change is good.