Looking Ahead

It's 4 days after Halloween and I'm listening to Garfield's Christmas on TV. Awesome movie that I remember taping off TV back in tha' day. This one is the DVD version that we rented for Halloween because Connor was too sick to go out. It has Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas on it. Turns out that Levi took him to a couple of houses anyways and I watched it alone...but don't tell anyone!

Here's a few pics of the preparations at our house:






Now that Halloween is over, Connor's focus is all about Christmas. "Oh what fun..." Heehee!

Thankfully he seems to be over the worst of his Pneumonia. I'm all about treating ailments naturally, but Wow! Do I ever love Prednisone! After the second dose his coughing was reduced to the point where he could actually finish a sentence without gasping for breath or having another coughing fit. And to where I could actually doze off a bit between breathing treatments at night. Yay for sleep in two hour stretches! After 5 days on the stuff he's barely coughing at all! : )


So now that he's on the mend, I have all four littles back for daycare again. All with runny noses and phlegmy coughs. Not so great - inevitable I know, but still...so the cycle continues. *sigh*

At some point last night the culmination of the past week and a half without sleep and a compromised immune system hit me full in the face. My throat hurts. My nose is plugged and runny at the same time. My lungs are burning and I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Looking after 4 toddlers and a preschooler today? It's not a pretty sight.

On the positive side, an opportunity has presented itself and I can't turn it down. I've got some plans in the works that will allow me to be more available for my children, put my skills, education and training to good use and still bring in an income. It's going to mean that some big decisions will have to be made, (nothing bad though - we're not moving or anything like that!) and a lot of ground work at first, but in the end I know it will be worth it. I wish I could elaborate more, but until some things are firmed up I can't really divulge much information. I do know that if I'm able to successfully go ahead with my plans, I will be busy in a different and much less stressful way than I am now.

And that's good for everyone involved!

Keep Fingers From Cage

I'm normally a pretty laid back person. Except for when I'm not. That would be when I'm tired, sick, hungry, cold or any combination of the above. Ever see the sign "Keep Fingers From Cage"? It's there for a good reason.


Today I'm feeling a wee bit "edgy". I have tons in my life to be thankful for, but today I just feel like walking away from my life for a while. For your reading pleasure today, a list of things that I ponder as I try to get over myself.



*Five people live in this house. Why am I the only person who notices the garbage needs to be taken out and actually does it?

*Why do I do everyone's laundry, fold it, and take it to the bedrooms but the only time anyone else ever does laundry is to wash something (as in three items) of theirs. Then complains when it sits in the washer for 2 days and starts to stink.

*Dishes? Please. I wash dishes at least 5 times a day. I hate coming into the kitchen in the morning and seeing last nights dishes all over the place. If I don't feel like washing the supper dishes then why don't you do it? Every single person in this house is capable of getting their hands wet. This is pisses me off the most.


*I care for 5, sometimes 6 children for 11 hours a day, 5 days a week, in addition to 3 of my own. 4 of these kids are under age 3. I am not complaining about this, it is my job and what I chose to do. But just because I do it at home does not mean that I am ready, willing and able to do your errands as well just because "I'm at home all day." My job is just as important as yours.



*I get tired and I want to relax once in a while. I need a break sometimes. Leaving the house (and me) on weekends to do your thing (even if it is for us) while I am left with a sick kid is not relaxing. I'm here all week - I want/need to leave the house too. Only I have to drag Sick Boy with me. Not fun for either of us.



*I need a grown-up to talk to. 15 minutes during supper or 10 minutes before bed doesn't cut it for me. I have a ton of thoughts and ideas and dreams. Care to listen sometime?



*I want to feel like I'm beautiful. I only feel tired and worn out. Paying attention to me after I've had to ask really doesn't make me feel all that special.



*I want to feel appreciated. For WHO I am, not what I do on a daily basis. Yah, the clothes get washed, the house is somewhat clean...I get that you appreciate having someone provide you with clean socks. However,there is more to me than my housekeeping skills.



*When I get frustrated like this, don't tease me and call me grumpy. Don't joke with each other in front of me about how easy it is to upset me. That has never helped. Try making me some tea or hugging me without trying to "fix things". How about some prevention instead of a cure? Just sit with me and let me talk. Or cry. Or take a nap. Whatever I need.

Just don't stick your fingers through the bars after you've rattled the cage- you might lose one.

Reasons Why

Take the Savant out of the equation and you've got me.

I went to Pilates class last night feeling less than stellar. While the exercises felt great for my body, my head did not appreciate all I was trying to do and threatened to explode.

After Pilates, I went to the Superstore. I walked past the Pharmacy. Twice. I did not stop to get any Cold and Sinus medication. My sinuses hate me.

I also walked past the Natural Health section. I did not buy any more Oscillococcinum or Echinacea/Goldenseal tincture. I desperately need both.

I went to the Joe Fresh section and bought new bloomers for myself. They were cotton and were on sale at half price. I got size large. I am not a size large, and large thong unders on a medium size booty is just wrong. I can only hope they shrink in the washer, cuz even at three bucks for a pack of 5, I'm too cheap to go back and get the medium ones. Also because I don't want to grow my ass any bigger than it already is.

I went down the Paper Goods aisle and DID. NOT. BUY. KLEENEX. Um...hello? The main reason for my trip to Superstore in the first place was to get more Kleenex with lotion. We are a very Snotty Family these days.

I also did not call it a sick day today, and I am feeling like shit. I have two additional children here, and my head might blow up the next time someone so much as thinks about racing a car across the wood floor. We're not even gonna think about what might happen with the temper tantrums.

Tomorrow I am "calling in" sick, and staying my medium size ass in bed. Someone else is gonna have to go to Superstore - I think my brain fell out with that last sneeze.

Queen of DeNial

So I sat down in front of the computer just now and gave myself a harsh reality check. It’s all about the (looks around) budget.

Ssshhhh!!!! Don’t say it out loud… it’s a bad word in this house! That one little word sets the little hairs on the back of my neck on end. Goosebumps and all that. That word means get to your corners and put the gloves on. Only now, I know it’s because my spending habits are out of control. Even worse? My husband is right. Oh, the indignity of it all!

*sigh*

I’ve been bitching about how tight the money is since I’ve finished up at work. You know, because we’re down to one income and all. Even though I get my lovely little Child Tax Benefit every month and Child Support Payments from The Ex, the extra income when I was working had become necessary in maintaining a balanced account. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make more money while still being at home this summer. (The cost of childcare for 2 kids would not be worth going out to work) Then it dawned on me that if I can’t Make More Money, maybe I should Spend Less!!! (Have I mentioned that I’m a bit slow when it suits me? No?)

Now there’s a concept! Only, I don’t really spend THAT much do I? I mean, it's not like there's any extra TO spend... Ok, I think you get the picture here. It’s the one that looks like me in denial, only with better hair. And manicured nails. *blush* A book I’ve recently read states that the word Denial could easily stand for “Don’t Even Notice I Am Lying”. Ladies and Gentlemen, I have been totally lying to myself.

I tracked my spending. May I just say in my own defence, OUCH!?!?!

Bottom line says that if I planned my trips to town, ate before I left home (Fast food places were on there a lot), and actually thought about all the un-necsesary crap that I was buying (Dollar Store, Dairy Bar and Pet Store) I would have at least an extra $230.00** a month. That’s a whole lot of money to be throwing away!!

This month, I am challenging myself to track EVERY. CENT. I. SPEND. Also, try my best to be responsible about what it actually is I’m spending on. No more French Mani’s for me thankyouverymuch! At this point I have nothing to lose and about $230.00 or more to gain.

What’s worked for you?

**This figure does not include the price of Fuel for my senseless random trips to Wherever It Is I think I need to go for no reason other than Just Getting Out of the house because I'm bored. I’m afraid to know how much gas I’m actually wasting on un-necessary trips to town.

"Rainy Days and Mondays...

...always get me down."

I've had a wonderful weekend at home with my family these past few days. It was wonderful in part because Friday was my birthday, but also because my dad and step-mom were visiting from Newfoundland. I haven't seen them since last August, and I haven't spent my birthday with my dad since I was fourteen. The kids were thrilled to have someone new to showcase their talents in front of, and I think my parents were just as delighted to sit and enjoy the quirky little people that are their grand kids.

With me still recovering from my surgery three weeks ago and my father recovering from shoulder surgery a week ago, it really didn't take too much to tire either one of us out. As is typical of my parents, they spoiled us all rotten - Olive took Maddie and I shoe shopping, and Dad managed to BBQ the most amazing steaks with one arm in a sling. By the time evening fell though, we were more than ready to sit and relax in front of a crackling fire. It was comforting, having them here, and it felt good to feel connected to family again.

I've mentioned before that it's not so much the "where I grew up" that I feel a longing for, but rather the "how". I know my childhood was less than ideal, but I had a great younger childhood and my dad played a huge part in that. He was a very "hands-on" parent, always involved and introducing us to new things. After he and my mom divorced, most of my relationships with extended family and other positives in my life also disappeared, and so I've always associated the happier times with him.

This morning Dad and Olive left for Nova Scotia, where they will stay until next week before returning to Newfoundland. I've learned to deal with the good-byes over the last nineteen years, and they've become easier. I know that I will see them again soon, likely within the year. Somehow, that doesn't make it any easier, and I know that I will miss my dad. Suddenly I am fourteen again. The sadness I feel every time I say good-bye to him has lodged itself in my throat, and the ache of "homesickness" that had eased while he was here has settled once again in my chest.

I really hope the sun comes out tomorrow, but for today, it can rain.

The Bitter Numbers

Because I simply have nothing else to do before my surgery next week, I will share with you a little snippet of my life lately.

8 months since I hemorrhaged
34 weeks since I was referred to the specialist
1 fucked up Provincial Health Care System on PEI
242 days I struggled with this problem
21 days ago I finally had my appointment with the specialist
5 days ago since I received date of surgery from hospital
8 days till surgery
56 days out of commission
8 weeks without receiving a paycheck, leaving
0 dollars in my bank account.

During those “eight weeks out of commission”, the following will still need to be taken care of:
168 meals
112 snacks
219 loads of laundry (roughly)
24 days of scrubbing the bathroom
56 days of general house cleaning
12 trips to the grocery store
4 mortgage payments
2 bank payments
224 kisses goodnight.

As if that weren't enough, I've developed a completely unrelated, yet undiagnosed illness. There has also been:

35 consecutive days of unrelenting abdominal pain, resulting in
15 pounds lost in about
14 days.
3 pounds were gained back, but it took
21 days to gain these back.
8 visits to the doctor, who ordered
34 different blood and other tests, coming up with
3 possible diagnoses.
1 referral to yet another specialist to confirm diagnosis
28 days ago
0 phone calls from specialist.
1 completely fucked up Provincial Health Care System
4 weeks off work so far, plus another
2 months after surgery in
1 week still leaves
0 dollars in my bank account.

So because of this, my Doctor suggested that I might be able to apply for Sick Benefits through the Employment Insurance Program. I need:

600 hours of work in the past
52 weeks in order to be eligible. I have
588 hours.
12 hours short … still leaving
0 dollars in my bank account and
0 government support because I have
1 husband who works
40 plus hours a week.

Leaving us with:

3 children
1 house and related expenses to look after on
1 income. All because of
1 completely fucked up Provincial Health Care System.

Ask me if I’m bitter…

Letting Go

I thought I've had a pretty good handle on things that have been going on lately in my life. Boy, was I wrong! Today I feel completely incapable of dealing with a minor thing, and I'm wondering how the hell I can get through the big stuff, when something little sets me into a crying jag... Where to begin? How about the events of the summer?

In the last three months, I:

* made the difficult decision to return to work outside the home.
* started a new job I wasn't really crazy about.
* sent my thirteen year old to Army Cadet Camp in New Brunswick for six weeks.
* found out I need to have a hysterectomy.
* quit new job.
* had to let my ex have my ten year old daughter for the month of July. He involved his lawyer.
* visited my parents and grandparents in Nova Scotia. (they're not all bad things!)
* did not receive child support payment. Had to deal with ex again.
* returned to Nova Scotia for my grandfather's funeral.
* had to deal with ex again, this time about buying school supplies. Involved his lawyer again.
* drove my four year old to his first day of school (Montessori- he loves it)
*watched the bus take my daughter to grade five and my son to his last year of Jr. High.
* started new job that I absolutely LOVE!
* took daughter to Dr., saw a teacher there, discovered daughter has Ringworm but is OK to be at school.
* dealt with teacher questioning daughter on reason for Dr. visit, making daughter tell other teacher, which made daughter feel humiliated and embarrased.

OK. I dealt with all the above and the things that surround them. I cried, I bitched, I did whatever I needed to do to help me cope, and I dealt with them all and got on to the next thing. EXCEPT this one:

* was informed by husband today that we were giving Connor's jogging stroller to someone TOMORROW.

Compared to everything on the list, this is SO minor. Not even a blip on the radar. But I haven't been able to stop the feelings of sadness that are crashing over me and I'm not sure why I'm feeling as if my husband is asking me to give away a part of myself. I mean, it's a STROLLER!! I haven't used it since May because of work and the heat of the summer. I should be happy to get rid of it, right? Free up some space? I got rid of the crib and some other baby stuff - why not the stroller?

I'm trying to sort through all this in my head. Is it about the actual stroller or that One Last Thing, the proverbial "Straw"? The fact that two months ago he told this girl she could have it before he spoke to me about it first? The fact that he first mentioned it to me IN FRONT OF HER later that day?
Is it the fact that I told him later that I felt he put me on the spot and I wasn't ready to part with it, that I still do use it for the long walks? Or is it because it is the very first thing we bought for our son when he was two months old, that it was a birthday present to me?
Is it because I have four years of memories of Connor in that stroller, and because it can hold kids up to 60lb, I thought I would have it longer?
Am I upset because I thought that two months ago he was going to set things right, explain that he spoke before he discussed it with me and that I wasn't all right with giving it up just yet? Or am I upset because he hasn't done this, and he cannot figure out WHY I'm upset about it, so now I'm feeling as if he's heard my words but hasn't listened to my heart.

I'm upset about all of these. I wasn't ready. I'm NOT ready. I still planned to use it. I love going for long walks with Connor on crisp fall days. I'm truly in a tailspin. After all I had to face this summer, I never thought that something like a stroller could set me into such a state. As I was leaving the house to come write this, he was in the kitchen getting it cleaned up a little. I couldn't talk to him as I was leaving, and he couldn't understand.

Once I got here, and sat for a minute, I realized that it IS more than just a stroller. It is my solace. Had the day been nice today, I would've put Connor in the stroller and walked. I walk to calm my mind. I walked to ease my depression in the early days of new motherhood. I walked with Connor to hear first his excited babbles, later to lull him to sleep, and now to enjoy his budding curiosity, his questions and comments of the world we pass by. I have always felt that I would pass it on when I no longer feel a need for it, and to someone who I am close to. It has meaning to me, and even though it may seem silly, it does hold a tremendous amount of sentimental value. His crib? Given to us. Connor slept with us 90% of the time anyways. Maybe that's why I could part with it without a second thought. But this damn stroller... I know it's only a stroller and not my actual child, but still...
Is it normal to feel this way about an object? Is this just the icing on the cake of a mostly miserable summer? I know that I've had a lot of stuff going on in the last three months, a lot of big changes. Is it a Mom Thing to not want to part with the baby things until you're ready? Is this my wake-up call, that I haven't dealt with things at all if I can't cope with this? Should I talk to my doctor? Should I just suck it up and deal with this too? Let's hear your thoughts...

De-Lurking Week!

I'm seeing this all over the place this week, and I gotta come clean. You ready?

I tend to be a lurker more than a commenter. *gasp from the audience*

I know, I know!! I'm such a bad bloggy friend! LOL! Here's the deal then-I'll say hello when I drop by to read your blog if you'll do the same. (please?) I do have some readers, don't I?

*crickets*

Welcome to those of you who have recently left a comment - I love hearing from you! (Yeah, I know. It is all about me, isn't it?) Make sure you check out the blogroll on the left too- I've added a couple of new friends to my list of favorites. They're great blogs, so if you stop by there make sure you say hello!

Ready, set, de-lurk!!

A Day in Numbers

4: number of hours of sleep I had last night. Note to self: chocolate before bed? Not so good.

3: the number of zits I woke up with this morning. Note to self: chasing chocolate before bed with 2 huge glasses of cow's milk is also a very bad idea. BAD.

1: number of times Connor compared my new horns to that of a Triceratops.

4: number of times I looked in the mirror and was reminded why I don't do the dairy thing.

3: number of times I got growled at by one of my kids for calling him by the other kid's name.

2: number of times I spoke to Levi on the phone today!

3: number of times I lost the cordless phone, my cell phone or my apple(?!) in all the chaos of the day's activities.

3: number of times my heart cracked open a little bit today because of something one of the kids said about how much they miss Levi. (or the Christmas Tree...post for another day!)

1: number of times I cried today. (getting better!!)

131,426: number of times I thought about Levi and missed him. (roughly)

17,837: number of needles that fell on the floor when taking the decorations off the tree today.

23,674: number of needles that fell on the floor as I dragged the tree outside.

2: number of needles left on the tree.

7: number of hours spent sorting through books in computer/exercise room. Not only are they now sorted, they are also shelved and categorized by theme,subject and um... in descending height...(I know, I need to get out more)

324: number of books I put on the new shelves for the kids. (I wasn't kidding when I said they had hundreds of books!!)

53: number of books we are donating to the library or hospital because we have doubles or have "moved on" since getting those books.

58: number of books I have to toss out because of damage from dampness (long story, we're not gonna go there tonight), crayons, teeth(??), torn covers, age or other.

435: total number of books I have in the same room with me right now, and I'm a bit giddy knowing that this number does not include any of the books on the "grown up" bookshelf in the sitting room (there's lots there!!), nor does it include any of the books or magazines the kids or I have in our rooms or closets!! (Nerd much?)

6: number of hours of sleep I will get before Connor comes tearing into my bedroom with his Diego pillow/doll thingie and Lion Keekee (sookie blanket) flying behind him if I go to sleep right now!

SIXTEEN: number of years ago I attended the birth of my little sister and earned bragging rights as The Very First One To Hold Her. She was a beautiful baby and has blossomed into a stunning, intelligent young lady. I'm so proud of her for who she is and who she will become! Happy Sweet Sixteenth Kayla! I Love you!

Sleepless

"Pssst!! You awake?? I can't sleep!"

It's almost 5am and I'm awake again, reading blogs and finally attempting some of my own writing. I've been awake since 2:30am. Last night (or was it yesterday morning?) it was from about 3:30am until sometime after 5:30. The night before that, it was about the same. Noticing a pattern? It's been like this for about two weeks now. One morning I was frosting Brownies at 3am. This morning, after tidying up the bathroom at 4am, I'm here on the computer...

What is Up with that? Connor is sleeping all night, the other two kids sleep like logs, and Levi hasn't even been snoring lately, even though he's been putting in some long exhausting 14 hour days. I don't drink coffee or anything with caffeine, I don't eat a lot of sugary stuff before bed (or in general for that matter), and things are going pretty good on the homefront. My laundry has been caught up every day for a week and the house is actually staying pretty clean. I'm not sleeping my afternoons away, though by mid-afternoon I'm totally wiped from going on only a couple hours sleep. It's not too hot for sleeping, my bed is as cozy as ever, so I'm at a loss for an explanation.

I've tried herbal tea. I've tried visual relaxation. I've tried going to bed early. I've tried going to bed late. I get lots of fresh air and sunshine during the day. I'm active. I haven't watched TV before bed. I've tried writing down a list of things that might be bothering me. (I could only come up with three things, and they are all minor, this insomnia being one of them.) I can fall asleep, I just can't seem to stay asleep. Please help, dear readers! I need some suggestions!! I really don't want to resort to sleeping pills! What works for you when you can't sleep?

So since I can't sleep, I'll spill to you about what has been going on lately.

*We had our Field Trip to Orwell Corner last Friday. It was such a great time! I wrote about it and Blogger ate most of it when I tried to save it, so I have to try and re-write what was lost. I hope to have it posted some time this weekend.

*The kids have officially finished school. Tuesday was their last day, and they both passed. Madeline, who has been doing well all year, is now promoted to Grade 4. Terran, who's marks were um... shall we just say not great last term? He really made a tremendous effort and pulled his marks way up. I'm so proud of him, he worked hard last term and is now promoted to Grade 8.

*Connor is Officially Potty Trained!! He's been wearing "Big Kid Underwear" (Gerber cotton training pants, no plastic thankyouverymuch!) and hasn't needed a diaper at all! I still put one on him at Nap and Bedtime, but he always wakes up dry. He is very good at telling me when he needs to use the bathroom and even on our Field Trip (with all the excitement) he let me know and we would go to the bathroom, no accidents. Whoo Hoo!!

*Madeline left Wednesday to visit with her Grandparents and Auntie, who live about an hour and a half from here. She loves visiting them. I was talking with her last night before she went to bed, and she was just getting home from Bingo. She won $25.00! (I know, it's funny as hell!) She's also been to the beach. She informs me that she wants to stay for two weeks. Her vacation is off to a great start!

*Terran is sleeping out in the tent with two of his buddies. He's having his Annual Summer Vacation Kick-Off Party. (Two of the other boys couldn't make it.) They took his TV, DVD player and XBox or whatever it is out there along with a bunch of candy. They were playing Flashlight Tag around 11:30 or so, so I guess it still counts as camping out. It's 5:25 am now, so it's safe to assume that they fell asleep out there. Last year they were all back in the house by 2 am. He's going to be leaving me for a couple of days as well, he was invited to spend a few days with his friend at Brackley Beach.

*Levi's sister and her husband are coming home from New Brunswick tonight. Connor is pretty excited about it, and we haven't seen them since April. We're not sure what our plans are for Canada Day yet, but I'm sure we'll do something fun. Usually we go to Rustico on our friend's boat, spend the day there enjoying the festivities, and watch the fireworks. I'm not sure if we'll do that this year or not, we have a few other invites too. I'll leave you with one of my favorite images from two years ago as we sailed to Rustico on Canada Day. Looking at this makes me feel peaceful...


The sun is up over the horizon now and the birds have been serenading me for an hour, so I'm going to try and catch a few winks before my kitchen is filled with hungry boys once again. 'Night!

Small Stuff

One day last week I was bustling around the kitchen making supper while I was washing the dishes from lunch (and breakfast). While I was doing this, I was also doing laundry. I tripped over a million pairs of shoes in the laundry room while attempting to carry yet another load of dirty clothes to the washing machine, and tripped over the same mountain of shoes on my way back out with the clean clothes to be folded. I cursed the shoes under my breath and announced to Whoever Might Be Listening that if I tripped over them again I was going to burn them all and the owners would have to go barefoot for the rest of the summer.

Once I got to the kitchen table and dumped the clean clothes onto it, Madeline began whining about how she didn’t “get” her homework and would I please help her. It was also around this time that a very grumpy Connor decided that her homework looked like the perfect spot to draw pictures, so he kept trying to climb onto her chair and scribble on her work.

“Mommy, I can’t do this… Con-nor! No Connor! Get down!!… Mommy! STOP Connor!! Mom! Connor is tryin’ to… NO Connor!! MOM-EEEE!”

Meanwhile, Connor is taking a tantrum: “Eeennnggghh! Maddie! I want to draw! Nnnnnn! Uhhhhh….I WAAANT UPPP!! I want to DRAAAAW Maddie!! Uhhh huhhhh! Waaahhhhh! WAAA-HAAA!!! Then he crumbled onto the floor and screamed. Very loudly.

It was here that Terran saunters into the kitchen and says to me in a dead voice; “Oh yeah, I have cadets tonight at six.” I stopped in my tracks for a moment, glanced at the clock and saw that it was 5:15. In disbelief I looked at him – sweaty and dirty from playing outside and waiting for me to tell him what to do. I didn’t disappoint. “Don’t you think you should be in the shower then instead of in here doing nothing?” I snapped.

“Whatever.” He snorted as he headed for the stairs. He mumbled something but I couldn’t hear it over the escalating tantrum happening on the floor in front of me.

By this point Madeline was shrieking about a pencil mark on her work, Connor was on the floor kicking and screeching at the top of his lungs, and the potatoes were boiling over. Rushing to the stove, I tripped over the dog, who panicked and bolted for the door. In doing so, she walked on the cat, who was sleeping on the mat in front of the sink. The cat of course hissed and swiped at the dog, who panicked some more and ran back to me, bumping into my legs and causing me to burn my hand on the steam rolling out of the pot.

Madeline was whining “He ruined my HOMEWORK!!”
Connor was screaming “ I WAAANT TO DRAAAWWW!!”
Terran was yelling from the bathroom upstairs “MOM! There’s no hot water!!”
The washer started spinning off balance, banging and rattling the entire back porch. By now, the other two cats had to get in on the action, so all four animals were flying around the kitchen like someone was chasing them with a knife. My hand was burning. Cursing, I dropped the lid, where it fell onto the stove and then onto the floor, spitting little beads of boiling water onto my bare arms and legs like miniature daggers. Then it happened.

I lost it.

“That’s IT!! EVERYBODY knock it OFF!!!” I shouted. Sucking in another breath as fast as I could, I continued my rant “I’VE HAD ENOUGH!! JUST STOP IT!! What the hell is WRONG with you guys anyways? You’re all making me CRAZY!!”

For a split second, there was silence. Or maybe that was just my brain exploding. “Nice. Way to go, dumbass” it chastised me.

The washer continued to squeal and clunk loudly in the porch. Connor sucked in his breath long enough to fuel another scream. Madeline sniffled and then started bawling. The animals looked at me as if I had grown three heads, then scampered off into the rest of the house. Terran continued to yell down for me to shut the washer off.

I wanted to disappear. I felt weak and suddenly very drained. As if on autopilot, I slowly picked up the lid off the floor, put it back on the pot, turned the burner down, then shut the washing machine off. In the midst of all the chaos, I eased myself into a chair, ignoring the world around me. “What is wrong with me? What the hell was I doing? Why? Why did I just freak out like that?”

“Because you’ll never be perfect, Amy. They don’t expect you to be.”

I realized then that I was not living my life for me and my family, but for everyone else. I was letting other people’s expectations of me as a stay-at-home-mom dictate how I was managing my home. I was swimming upstream against a strong current. Why? Why was it so important to me what other people thought, when I had just lost it in front of my kids? Did I feel that I had something to prove because I wasn’t working outside the home? Did I feel that somehow I had to conform to their expectations because otherwise I would seem lazy? Like a bad wife and mother? Somehow I became so consumed with meeting these expectations, I failed to realize what I was doing to my children. I was robbing them of their mother. And now I had hurt them because I felt inadequate.

“I’m losing it. I’m friggin’ losing it.” I muttered to Nobody In Particular. Putting my head in to my hands, I drew a shaky breath. The tears were stinging my eyes, yet I didn’t cry. My throat was raw, and my insides felt empty. I felt like the worst mother in the world. I violated something somewhere, perhaps it was my own sense of self along with my children’s feelings. This was not the mother I wanted to be. I felt like such a failure. Their little hearts are in my hands, and I crushed them. I was so careless with their feelings. How could I do that to my beautiful children? Do they know how much I love them? Are they feeling unloved right now?

“I’m sorry guys.” It came out in a whisper. “I’m really sorry guys.” I tried again. “I should never have said that.” I picked up my sobbing toddler up off the floor and kissed the top of his head as I pulled the sniffling Madeline to me for a hug. My tears spilled over. “I’m so sorry. Mommy loves you sooo much. I’m having a really bad day and I took it out on you guys and that was wrong of me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, embracing and soothing our hurts. I felt their warm little bodies against mine, and fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. How I love them! They’re growing so fast, this is not what I want them to remember about their childhood. They need to express themselves, however much I might disagree. They need to cry. They need to giggle. They need to whine. They need to argue amongst themselves and solve their own problems. They need direction when they can’t find it on their own, but they need to try first. They need to get dirty and be smelly sometimes and they need to know that they are loved unconditionally. They need to be little. I was reckless with their feelings. I had taken them for granted, and they still loved me. I silently vowed to try harder, to do better, to be a better mom for them. To be the mom I know I was meant to be, not the mom other people think that I should be.

As picturesque as it is to think of a warm loving home where children play a board game happily together on a braided rug on the floor in front of the fireplace…smiling Mother prepares dinner in her pearls and heels, hair neatly in place…whistling Father arrives in the evening to an immaculate home and sets his briefcase (okay, lunchbox and workboots) by the door and is greeted with hugs and smiles and a hot dinner (not Hamburger Helper) on the beautifully set table where you can actually use a real cloth table cloth instead of plastic placemats because the children’s table manners are quite good… these days just don’t exist at my house most times.

I think maybe every mom has days like this. The days where we just wish we had a solution for everything, a calm demeanor and an organized home. I realize that every individual family has their own coping strategies, and I have to use the one that works best for my family. For example, my friend only does laundry on Mondays and Thursdays. She is raising six kids. Six. To me, she seems organized, relaxed, seems to have a pretty good handle on All Things Family. If you were to ask her, she would laugh as she hands out a snack to her toddler while picking up hockey gear off the floor and say that her life is one giant car pool and call it “organized chaos.” She genuinely seems to love it. She doesn’t sweat the small stuff. In retrospect, it is all small stuff, really. Laundry gets washed, the plants get watered, pets get fed, the floors get scrubbed, supper gets cooked, and the homework gets done. So what if the house isn’t spotless every day? Who really cares if there are six loads of laundry instead of two?

It’s the important stuff that will enrich my life, and it is the important stuff that humbles me. The important stuff is worth crying over, especially if you learn something from it. The important stuff is the fragility and innocence of the hearts and feelings of my children, and remembering that without them I would not be a mother at all.

Sweet Ride

This was way too cool, because I have been lusting after this car since I first saw it!! If I win the big bucks, this baby is coming home with me!! Besides being totally hot, it's a Saturn!! I Heart Saturn!

You Should Drive a Saturn Sky

You're sleek and smooth, and you need a car to match your hot persona. Besides, sometimes you want your top up - and sometimes you want it down.

What 2007 Car Should You Drive?

Priceless

Mother Nature can be a real bitch sometimes:

Quoted cost of extraction: $80.00
Actual cost of Extraction: $150.00
Cost of Ibuprofen and medicated mouth rinse: $21.00
Cost of follow up visit: $80.00
Cost of Tylenol #3, Tea Tree Oil, Clove Oil for Pain Relief, and Natural Toothpaste (the Sodium Lauryl Sulfates in regular toothpaste irritates cankers and other mouth sores. It's actually classed as an "irritant to skin, eyes and mucous membranes," yet we have it in our soaps, shampoos and toothpastes? Go figure! ): $37.00
Cost of Gas to get Tea Tree Oil and Clove Oil(because the natural food store in Summerside closed and you have to go to Charlottetown now): $20.00
Cost of Gas to go to Hospital when things get really bad: $10.00
Cost of Antibiotics and Toradol(more pain killers): $53.00
Cost of Meal Replacement Drinks (because Spaghetti in a blender isn't really all that great unless you're 8 months old, and it still hurts way too much to eat it that way): $14.00
Total Cost of "80.00" extraction so far (I have to go back again tomorrow if I'm still not any better): $385.00
Starting my period during all this: F*@#ing PRICELESS !!

The Chair

Monday morning at 9:30 I was in "The Chair".

Let me first say that this is the coziest dentist's office I've ever been in. Nothing like my old dentist's office in the city- cold white walls, sterile, contemporary, clinical. This is the country, and things here are homey. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the smell. Not the ususal "dentist office smell", but the aroma of fresh coffee. The reception area boasted an old fireplace with a thick wood mantle, a braided rug lay on the floor, and there was a colorful quilt hanging on one of the sandy colored walls. In the corner was an old whitewashed buffet and hutch, a creeping ivy set on top with leafy green tendrils trailing down its sides. This hutch displayed simple white mugs on its shelves and the coffee pot that was responsible for the delicious aroma was happily gurgling away. How welcoming! If these things were supposed to help patients feel relaxed, it worked. The soothing colors of the walls, the tranquil beach scene framed above the mantle... Even climbing into "The Chair" wasn't that bad. A large window looked out in to the back yard, framing yet another peaceful scene. A white fence running behind a maple tree, and a colorful trio of bird houses on a platform beside the tree. How nice! This wasn't going to be so bad after all...

Five needles, 45 minutes and a whole lot of pressure later, the tooth finally emerged from its socket. IT WAS HELL!! I thought the worst part was when he scraped inside the socket after the tooth was out and hit my jaw bone. Or maybe it was when he was putting so much pressure on the tooth that I thought my jaw was going to pop out of joint on the other side. Boy, was I wrong.

Before I go any further, let my just say that I am not ususally a whimp. I have had a toenail ripped completely off, and went to work minutes later. I have managed to carry on with a cracked rib. I have given birth three times without drugs and went shopping two days later. I have dealt with wisdom tooth pain, canker sore pain, sprained ankle pain, bladder infection pain, pain of all sorts. This is by far the worst.

The day after the extraction, I called the office. Was my socket supposed to look like that? I expected it to hurt some, but should it really be hurting this much? It's getting worse, not better. Is it maybe infected? Two days after the extraction, I'm sitting in "The Chair" again. It turns out that I have something called "Dry Socket" and it's not a good thing. Something about not enough blood to form a clot, exposed bone and nerve endings. And pain. Lots of it. Two needles, more scraping, some white knuckles and sweaty palms, the dentist puts something that smells like cloves into the gaping hole in my mouth. Funky. He writes me a prescription for some Tylenol 3 with Codene, and I leave with 80 dollars less in the bank just for this visit. Monday's visit, which was supposed to cost $60 ended up costing $150 because it became "surgical" . The translation for this is "We're puttin' the screws to ya!" So far, we're up to $230 for this tooth. So far....

It's now Friday, and I'm still hurting a lot. The Tylenol isn't working. Nothing is working. And I have three HUGE cankers on the gums under my tongue, where he gave me the needles to freeze me. Those don't help anything either. I don't want to go in again (can't afford to!!), but it's looking like I might need to. When I went in on Wednesday, he told me that about 5-10 percent of patients with extractions get Dry Socket. Usually smokers. I don't smoke. Leave it to me to be one of the few... He also asked me if my jaw was hurting, because his arm was still sore two days later. Funny guy. He told me the story of how he had a guy in the very same chair the day before, who had 6 teeth pulled, and it took half an hour to get them all out. Lucky bastard. I know who it is and he'll not be feeling any pain. He's at the bar all the time, and carries a pretty good stash at all times. Note to self... call him.

I should have told Mr.Dentist that I feel like I might have stopped a brick wall with my face, that giving birth was less painful than this, that I would gladly try any sort of drug now, legal or not, if it would stop the pain I'm feeling in my mouth. I should have mentioned that I think my husband is plotting to have me "taken care of", because I haven't eaten or slept in many days because of the pain and I am making his life and everyone else's a living hell. But instead, I politely thanked him and went on my way. As best as I could anyway. It may have sounded a bit like "Thanks for screwing me over, ya sadistic bastard", you know, with the freezing and all.

I'm a BAR-bie Girl

Yep. Looks like ya can get by on charm and good looks. I got hired for a job based on nothing but my amazing tanned toned bod, long blonde hair, and killer smile... LOL! (Oh, if only...!)

Where? The local bar, of course! I had my first night on Saturday and surprised myself by actually doing OK. Aside from pouring my dad drinks (2 fingers of rum, 3 fingers of coke!) when I was little, I've never done any bartending before, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Turns out that it was easy to get the hang of and fun! I get to see some friends, listen to great music, and get paid! (And I made tips!! Sweet!) The gang that works there is awesome, and the manager is a really nice guy. It's just part time - to bring in a little extra $$ and get me out of the house, and it's only a few minutes from home in a small local club, so it works for us. (And yes, Levi is totally OK with this...!) A lot of people would cringe at working in a bar, but I love the positive energy that flows in a place like that. I think we may be on to something here, girls!

Eat yer heart out, Barbie!

Bah, Humbug!!

OOOH! A new post!!!

Just in case you've been wondering, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. Our internet has totally sucked, and I've actually been a very busy girl...
I wish I could say that I was busy because I was baking tons of Christmas goodies for my children, and happily assembling gingerbread houses while Bing Crosby croons holiday carols softly in the background.
I even wish I could say that I was busy decorating my home with fragrant boughs of evergreen and garlands made from dried cranberries and citrus slices.
But it would all be untrue.
I still don't even have a Christmas tree. Christmas Eve is a week from today. I have some shopping done, but I'm not finished. Nothing is wrapped, and I haven't sent one Holiday card. The oven was turned on once to heat garlic fingers when everyone was too tired and hungry to even really care what we had for supper. The last thing I made with my own two hands was Play-Dough, and that was just to stop the kids from fighting over the hard crusty ball of petrified Play-Doh that someone found under the sofa. I think it was a hundred years old. Sad times, indeed.

In actual fact, I have been spending about 70% of my time in the crapper, doubled over in pain and sounding like I spent the previous night pounding back the shots of Rhum. Not fun. I eat, it comes out. One helluva way to lose weight. Some days are better than others, but still.
The other 30% of my time has been spent visiting the Dr. trying to figure out what has been going on with my body, struggling with my exhaustion from it all, and trying to be a wife and mother. My calendar now looks like a busy executive's day book, with appointments scribbled here and there, and times and dates are written on the kids' artwork that hangs on the fridge.
So far we (by we I mean the Dr.) think it could be Crohn's Disease or Colitis. We've ruled out infection or a virus, and food poisoning. As a little treat to myself after Christmas, I am scheduled for a scope on the 28th of Dec. Nothing like a little inspection of the lower intestines and bowel to ring in the New Year, right? Wait, it gets better. Dad , if you're reading this, you might want to stop here, things get a little "girly". You too Levi. The next little bit contains way too much information, but that's never stopped me before...
I've also been having period problems. Big time. Like every two weeks and very heavy. And then when that's not happening, I also get treated to nasty little bouts of Candida. (yeast infections) So, I also have appointments scheduled with the specialist for that. What really scares me is that the "H" word has ben mentioned a few times. Even once is too much. I mean, I know I'm not planning to have any more kids, but seriously. I'm only 30!
Did anyone check the warranty on my uterus or colon?!?
As a result, I'm finding it really hard to get into the Christmas mood, and I feel badly for my family. Normally I have the tree up well before the middle of the month, and the gifts are usually under the tree, wrapped and ready to be ripped into. Cookies are often made, and things are generally festive. Levi has been a real trooper through all this, and is keeping the house well stocked with toilet paper for me. He put up the outside lights on Saturday. The kids are really excited for Santa to come, and I don't want to take away from that. We just had two storm days and that helped a bit, now that is is actually starting to look like Christmas. Madeline, Connor and I wrote letters to Santa yesterday, and all of us did Christmas anagrams and Christmas word searches and crossword puzzles. So that also helped.
Still, a part of me just wants to say "Bah, Humbug!" about the whole thing, and put Christmas off until I feel better.

Pilates for Cows ??

This week, I've had the opportunity to spend a few hours a day to myself. I was asked to provide the First Aid coverage at Old Home Week. Aside from the wicked cool rides that is associated with Old Home Week (at least at my house), it is also famous for the Gold Cup and Saucer Race, where the winnings are worth about 50 grand. It is also where agriculture buffs from all over come to exhibit their cows and horses, sheep and other animals, in hopes of winning first prize at the Provincial Exhibition.

On Saturday, I was sitting in the stands watching about 20 or so people walk their year old Holstein cows around the ring. The competitors are dressed all in white, with a 3 inch cardboard band around their head with their entry number written on it. There is the occasional bellow of a young cow, voicing their indignity at being led around in circles by the face. Patiently the competitors lead their cows around the ring, despite the objections.

Cows don't walk very fast. In fact, they sort of just step, stop, step, step, stop. Some call this "plodding". I call it how we're probably going to be walking down the aisle at my wedding. Anyhow, once the competitors are told to stand still, a strange thing begins to happen.

The cows do Pilates.

OK, not really, but what happens once the cows stop moving is really quite interesting. Apparently, a huge emphasis is put on the spinal alignment , body carriage, and head position of the cow. These contestants do to their cows what I would do to my class participants.
A touch here to lift the ribs and straighten the spine. A gentle nudge there to move the tailbone to a neutral position. Lengthen from head to tailbone, shoulders sliding back and down, chest open.

All of this amazed me. I've never seen cows being judged before. I thought perhaps the judges would look at obvious things like color, glossy coat, size, etc. You know, regular stuff. Once I caught on to how these cows were being judged, I began to look at them differently. #63 was a bit "slouchy". #60 wasn't too bad. #53 was long and straight through the back and open through the chest. Beautiful. As it turns out, #53 won first place. I wonder of this judge ever took a Pilates class? Or taught one. I bet he'd be good.

All of this made me think that good posture can make all the difference. I mean, if a cow can be seen as beautiful, even graceful, then why are we so hard on ourselves?? It's not our size, but rather how we carry ourselves that determines how others see us and "judge" us. So whether you are an actual barnyard cow, or sometimes just feel like one... stand tall. Head up, shoulders back and down, open through the chest. You are beautiful too.

Wedding Bells are Ringing!

Is that the not so far off sound of Wedding Bells ringing in my ears? Oh, wait - nope, it's just me! My ears are ringing, but it's only because of my (as my doctor put it) horribly infected ears. I actually lost the hearing in my right ear for almost two weeks!! With a little medicine and some TLC, I was able to get my hearing back just in time to go see Blue Rodeo in concert on Sunday night!! What a great show... my good friend Sarah and I went, and she is a HUGE fan. The seats were awesome, I really didn't think that we were going to be as close to the stage as we were. Happy Birthday Sarah!
Okay, for the Wedding Update... well, I'm still stressing out, although not as bad. My mom has Madeline's flowergirl dress made, (she made it out of her own wedding dress! How special is that!? ) and I finally found the perfect fabric for the bridesmaids' dresses in the same shade as the tux vests!!! HOORAY!! It had to be ordered from Montreal, but it should be here by the middle of next week. I cut out the material for my dress on Monday, so hopefully soon Mom will be sticking me with pins while she tries to fit the lace somehow onto the satin. Stuff keeps coming up though! I have to work all next week (First Aid coverage at Old Home Week... need a Band-Aid? Come see me!), and for the first time, it's actually a paid gig this time. Which is good, because money isn't exactly something I have a lot of. Or any of , for that matter...But back to the wedding...
So I checked my comments today and my old roommate Tracey (who is a chef) offered to make the cake!! Hello !?! How could I forget that she was a chef? The thought never entered into my mind that I knew someone who might be able to help us out!! So I'm going to call her tonight and hash out the details. She makes the most amazing stuff!!! Her Parmesan Chicken is to die for!!! (It's no wonder I had a hard time keeping the pounds off when I lived with her!! She can take hot dogs and make them into a gourmet meal!!) "Hello, my name is Amy, and I'm a food-a-holic." As if it wasn't obvious.
Levi and I also went out on Monday night and bought our wedding rings. They are so beautiful! They had to be sent off to be sized, we're both a half size smaller than what they had at the store. So the rings should be here in about 2 weeks. I can't wait!!
I've been getting a great response for my classes since my ad ran in The Buzz. In the last week, I've had three registrations for the aquafitness classes and an inquiry about the postnatal pilates. Whoo-hoo! The fall session starts the week of August 29. I am so excited!!!
That's all I have time to write for now, we have some major cleaning to do... my Dad and step-mom are coming over this weekend. I want the place to look like, well, like a hurricane didn't just rip through here.

My Summer Vacation

I can't believe it's been a month since my last post!! What exactly have I been up to then, instead of writing?

Well, there's been a trip to Fredericton. There's been a cast on Terran's arm. There's been wedding invitations printed and delivered. A bunch of brochures for my classes were created and printed. An ad for the local Arts & Entertainment magazine also designed and printed. We've been dealing with high humidity, low energy, heat waves, cool showers, beach days, rain days, outdoor dining, bored kids, a temperamental BBQ, the building of a swing set, un-bored kids (yay!), bridal showers (not mine), more beach days, sand in the car, sand in the tub, sandwiches, (almond butter & jam!), picnics in the back yard, dog hair in the house, thunder storms, the dog upstairs ( a no-no), and a bunch of other stuff. Mainly wedding stuff.

So, it's eight weeks until the wedding. This is the part where I should be saying: "Everything is falling into place." "Um, well, it's getting there" is more likely to describe things. The invites to the wedding are out, the responses are starting to come in, and the invites to the dance will go out next week I think. The tuxes have been ordered, and Levi and Terran measured. I'm jealous now, because he's basically done. He just has to go in and try it on when it comes in and that's it. Done.

Me on the other hand, I'm a wreck. The dresses haven't even been started yet. (Not even my wedding dress!!) I can't find the right fabric for the bridesmaids dresses in the right color. Everything I look at seems too dark or too light. I haven't made any arrangements yet for a cake or for flowers. I have no idea if and when there is going to be a bridal shower, (I'm not a huge fan of surprises... I like to be prepared...) We still haven't picked out where we want to go for our honeymoon, who's going to watch the kids, or even where we are going to spend our wedding night.
I guess weddings have been planned in shorter time than this, but I'm really starting to stress over this. I mean, I'm having nightmares of me sitting at a sewing machine the night before the wedding trying to make a wedding dress! The other night, I dreamed that the cost of the tux rentals was going to be around two thousand dollars!!! I awoke in a cold sweat from that one...

As much as I'm trying really hard to enjoy this time, I will be so glad when this whole "wedding thing" is all over. Some women go totally nuts to have the "perfect wedding" and put so much emphasis on the whole "it's my day" crap. I just want to be married to the greatest guy in the world. Last night, he came home from his ball game with a beautiful bunch of wild flowers that he had picked for me. No special reason, he just thought I'd like them. Like I said, the greatest guy in the world...

Thoughts about Thirty

It's finally happened... I've turned thirty. Does that seem old to you? The "30th Birthday" is a day that some people approach with a feeling of dread and apprehension, but I am ok with it.

I think this is an age where a lot of people like to reflect on their lives so far and measure their actual accomplishments to the dreams and hopes that they had for themselves when they were, say, twenty or so.
When I was 20, I had always thought that by age 30, I would have a wonderful husband, a bunch of great kids, a good paying job, a house and car of my own, and a dog. You know, that happily ever after you hear so much about. And then life happened...

There were certainly some large stumbling blocks along the way. Life didn't work out for me in the smooth, uncomplicated way that I had hoped it would. I've slowly learned to make adjustments, deal with and accept whatever life sent me. Somehow, through all the stormy seas and grey days, I have arrived at Thirty not far from where I had expected to be. I am starting my own business in two weeks. I am marrying my best friend in four months. I have three beautiful children, a great home, and even my car and dog are pretty ok. The waters are calmer. The sky holds the promise of sunny days ahead. I am happy to be here, at Thirty, where I finally feel safe and comfortable in my own life.