Old Post Revisited

Came across this little snippet saved as a draft. Thought you might like to see it:

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So, let me ask you...

How many pairs of pjs should the mom of a sick one-year-old have? At least 6 according to my last count.

I actually ran out of clothes on Sunday night/Monday morning. No more t-shirts, no more yoga pants, no more pj tops or bottoms. Yet my wee one's vomit continued. His stomach didn't give a rat's patootie that my entire closet was empty. Well, I wasn't about to wear my dresses or blouses to catch his ickiness, they don't count.

Or do they? There comes a point when you've gotta wear something, anything. The criteria very quickly changes from "Do I care that it might get stained?" to "Does it smell like baby puke?" If the answer is "No" then it qualifies as something to wear while helping the little one through his illness. With the new criteria established the possibilities are almost endless... formal dresses, hubby's closet, old maternity wear...

Short Story

I'm setting a time limit of 30 minutes for writing this morning and I'm going to try some fiction. Here goes:

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"So, how's your coffee? I'm savouring every sip of mine. It's absolutely delicious." A fleeting pleasure - I love my daily coffee.

"Hhmg."

"You sound a bubble off, what's on your mind?" It's difficult not to take his gruff response personally. Heck, I'm the one with two months left, according my oncologist. My future really must be that bleak, the doctor's don't even question my requests to increase my pain meds anymore. How can he be the one having a bad day? Regrettably, pain and bitterness increasingly leach into my these days.

"The divorce paperwork arrived this morning. All that's left to do is write my signature and it's all over with Leanne."

We've just found each other after decades of being apart and this is what he's thinking of? Leanne? He's given her a house, two beautiful children (now grown) and a Mercedes. What the hell else does he want to give her? My last few days on earth? Selfishly, I feel like time is vanishing and despite how much I want to treasure each moment I have with him, the days continue to rapidly slip by. And this is what we're talking about. Leanne. Bitch.

"I'm going back inside. You can come visit me later if you'd like, but I may be asleep. I'm feeling very tired today." My inner growl is beginning to come to the surface more frequently. I'm starting to push people away.

"What I'd like to do is to go away. Together. What do you think of Mexico?"

"Steven, I'm too sick to travel. I'd love to, but it's just not in the cards. Try as we might, we just can't run away from our problems." I'd give anything for the option to run away from cancer. Wouldn't that be nice? Take a vacation away from it...

"Heather is stopping by with the kids this afternoon... do you want to meet them?" My daughter and my darling grandchildren will stop by as usual on their way home from daycare. I can hardly bear to think of leaving them behind. But the pain is getting to be unmanageable. It has now become such a big part of my day that I have difficulty focusing on the people I love.

I'm tired.

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Ding! My 30 minutes is over. Time's up!

De-Cluttering

Is that even a word? De-cluttering? Probably not, but I don't have the time to check.

Recently, I've needed to weed out some of my personal items. Really personal items. You know those hidden things that reside in the very back of a drawer where you hardly ever have to see them and you hope that no one else will see them either?

Here are some items I've recently disposed of: a pregnancy test, old eye shadow, letters and notes from my youth, an unused personal organizer and many other gems that used to be tucked away out of sight. However, each of these items represented a part of me that I've been having a difficult time dealing with.

It's difficult to say why I've been holding onto the pregnancy test. When Andy was delivered by c-section last year, I had my tubes removed. Not just tied, but removed altogether. At the time Daryle and I felt that our family was complete - and it is. I'm just having a hard time reconciling myself to the fact that I can not have another child. I could with medical/surgical intervention, but not on my own. But I'm a big girl and have now tossed the pregnancy test and truthfully, I feel better for it.

The eye shadow that ended up in the bin was beautiful to look at, gorgeous jewel tones, deep and brilliant. Ancient though - I think I've had it for twenty years. Yes, it was in my possession before Daryle and I married. On that note, perhaps it represented my pre-marital freedom. I had always thought that I'd wear it to go out on the town or to the theater. Needless to say, I do neither of those activities now. A night out on the town is... my goodness, it's the annual Christmas office dinner party with my co-workers! And going to the theater is no longer on the agenda at all unless one considers Daniel's tendency for melodramatic, high energy theatrics to be audience worthy. Don't get me wrong, I'd much rather be with my family than go to the theater - most nights. Once in a blue moon would be nice though.

The letters and notes from my youth. Where do I begin? To be honest, I'm uncomfortable delving into this topic. I just can't relate to who I was back then. I don't want to have anything to do with my past, all it does is bring up bad, hurtful memories. I've moved on and become someone completely different. Shredding those old letters and notes was wonderful. I felt such a weight lifted. I wish I had done this particular task years ago. Where are my old journals? I think they're next on the shreddies list if I can find them.

As far as the personal organizer goes, I don't know why I held onto it. Junk, that's what it was. A quick reset and it's gone. Sort of. It now resides in the heap of electronic gadgets at the office that need to make the trip to the recycle depot.

I certainly feel better. I love the adrenaline rush from purging. One wouldn't know it by looking at my house, it resembles a junk heap at times, but I'm a closet purge-a-holic. Daryle doesn't like to get rid of things, so I find myself sneaking things to the office to dispose of, shred or add to the recycling heap. Terrible, and somewhat cowardly, but I just don't have the energy to argue over every tiny item leaving the house.

A Sign That Fall is Here

The title should read: Several Signs That Fall is Here.

I just came back to the office after lunch and my feet are soaking wet because of all the puddles, my glasses need to have the raindrops wiped off and finally, I almost fell on my rear-end because of all the slimy leaves piling up at the side of the road. It's hard to ignore the negative aspects of the fall, what with all the clothes we should be heaping on and stepping into. On tonight's agenda are the dubious tasks of finding my boots, an umbrella and coverings of some sort that I can throw over my office clothes. Office attire, which by the way has become increasingly unfriendly towards coats and jackets in general. My scarves, shawls and ponchos just don't fit well underneath... just about anything besides a gigantic cape. Hmm, perhaps it's time to try to make an updated cape reminiscent of the ones worn in the Jane Austen's period pieces like Sense and Sensibility or Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South . Okay, okay, the period capes warrant a complete overhaul. Imagine walking down the street wearing a full length scarlet cape with a voluminous hood. One would resemble an over sized Little-Red-Riding-Hood that had become terribly lost on the way to Grandma's house.

While I absolutely love the fall, I dislike all the dreariness that often accompanies it. I was certainly spoiled on the weekend. Phoenix' version of bad weather was having to put on some pants and a long-sleeved shirt instead of shorts and a tank top. Oh, and for those that had been out on a golf course when Sunday's morning rain hit, they had the onerous task of trying to dry out their golf gear in time for the next round. We had to endure some very tough circumstances down there. Ha!

On a more positive note about the Lower Mainland's fall, I love to see the river from my home, and that occurs only after the leaves make their annual descent. I can watch the big ships full of cars inch their way upriver or see a tug manoeuvre a log boom towards the nearby mill.

Perhaps I'll open my blinds here at the office and let in the available light - I'm in need of a little lift from Mother Nature. Another perk that accompanies the fall is being able to watch the birds en route to sunnier places. With any luck a little winged friend will stop by my window to visit on their trek south.

Lazy Daisy

Aaaahhh....

This afternoon I relaxed at the condo. Just read my book. That's it.

Sorry to not have anything interesting to report or write about, but that's all I've got for the moment.

TTFN

Last night we ate at Morton's, a very nice restaurant in Scottsdale. Very nice being an understatement. My lamb chops cost $46 and a cup of coffee was $9! The menu being 'a la carte' meant that all sides, appies, etc had to be ordered separately. Yikes! I cringe to think of what our bill came to.

The lamb was absolutely delicious though. I don't know how I ever thought I could be a vegetarian. I really enjoy meat - especially lamb, chicken, turkey and beef. My poor bod felt a little abused though this morning - too much meat clogging my insides I think. So I've eaten an apple and some yogurt with a bit of cereal on it to help my system get going again. Tonight I think I'll try a veggie meal and see if I feel better tomorrow. Oh... this is why I tried to become a vegetarian!!! To feel better. Ah-ha!

Have you ever read "The Hungry Caterpillar" to a child? The caterpillar hatches, then begins to eat some nice yummy healthy food, then the caterpillar goes berserk and eats everything under the sun and makes itself ill. Then it eats a nice green leaf and feels better before making its cocoon and turning into a butterfly. While I don't think that I'll turn into a butterfly after eating my equivalent of the green leaf, I'm positive that I'll at least feel much better!

Just as a little 'aside' I thought I'd mention the name Morton again. Throughout the meal I kept thinking to myself, "but what is the honourable Miss Morton to us when Elinor is right here?" Lines from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility kept popping into my head throughout the evening. I had the sense though not to open my mouth and let the quotes jump out. Can't wait to get home and play the movie... it may even be in the player already waiting for me.

Well, we're off to the thrift store this morning, so I'd better go and get ready. Maybe I'll find something cute to take home. I'd really like to find some souvenirs for the boys. Some sort of really interesting toy, or maybe a new DS game. I'll have to try to check out a toy store while we're shopping.

Sunny Climes

Well, here I am in Phoenix!

After our fairly uneventful flight down to Phoenix from Vancouver, I'm getting a chance to relax and take a deep breath. With Ron and James off golfing with Doug, Marlene and I are left to our own devices. I think Marlene is having a nice sleep-in and I've just finished a bowl of cereal for breakfast.

Now the big question is: what to do with myself? I could go for a swim in the pool, sit and read my book or take a short walk over to the mall to get some shampoo, conditioner and sunblock. Decisions, decisions.

I think I'll wait until the weather warms up a little more before jumping in the pool, so that leaves me with settling in to read my book. Heaven knows I'll avoid the shopping excursion as long as humanly possible.

My poor planning for my own devices has put a wrench in the works. I forgot to bring the chargers for my mp3 player, cell phone and also the camera. What was I thinking? I did, however, bring along the charger for my DS. That would be fine if I had brought the DS as well! serves me right for packing in the dark. At the time it seemed like a good idea, what with Alex sleeping fairly soundly in his crib a few feet awy. So here I am, thousands of miles from home struggling to keep my tech devices limping along. Of course, they're all running a little low. Hopefully, I can eke out enough battery time to take a few photos and record enough of the meetings to prepare my minutes when I return to the office on Tuesday.

Well, I'm off to read my book!

Ready, Steady, Go!!!

Passport - check
Airline ticket - check
US Funds - check
Meeting agenda finalised and printed - check
Notes for my topics of discussion - check
Map to get from airport to condo - check
Family photos - check

Phoenix here I come!

It feels like it has taken me forever to get ready for this trip, but I'm finally all set to go. Just need to pack tonight and get my purse ready. Easy peasy.

The only thing that's not ready is my desk at the office. It looks like a bomb has hit! So, I must stop writing and try to plough through as much as possible.

Family Travels

Trees and rocks slip past us as our train speeds towards Calgary. The gentle rocking of the train and warmth of sunshine on my cheek lull me to sleep for a quick nap as I hold my two boys close. I'm so thankful that they're still wanting to snuggle. This closeness won't last forever, I cherish it while I can.

After our nap we make our way to the dining car. I order a V8 and a cheese sandwich. Daniel, such a predictable creature, asks for a California roll and a bowl of miso soup. Andy, still being so little, is content with mashed potatoes and gravy. We must be in the Rockies now, the mountains tower above us in their grandeur.

Of course we're all excited - we're going to meet Daryle at the train station. He's been working in Calgary for a few weeks now and we miss him terribly. The boys have been having a difficult time staying in their seats and I'm beginning to run out of the dollar store toys bought to amuse them. On the positive side, we've only got another three hours to go. As a family, we're going to play tourist in Calgary; visiting the zoo, going down to Drumheller and so on. Then we'll continue the train journey all the way to Halifax before returning by plane in a month's time.

We've been saving up for a long time for this holiday and I can hardly believe it is going so smoothly. The usual angst is missing. The children are cheerful and I'm relaxed. I think we'll try to leave the van behind more often when we go on vacation.

What is that? I hear raised voices and the train seems to be rocking a little more aggressively. The motion and noise continue to increase to the point of becoming very irritating. What is happening?

Blink. Blink.

For Heaven's sake! My eyes slowly adjust to the grey of the gloomy, rainy day. I wake up. Yes - wake up. All four of us are in the van, travelling down a very bumpy road, full of pot-holes on our way to the bottle depot. I can't believe I fell asleep! Andy's yelling away at no-one in particular and Daniel is shouting "grAAAH", to distract and amuse him. So much for my lovely holiday; instead, I get to endure the racket from the back of the van, listen to Daryle bark about how to stack cases of juice tins and count dirty, smelly bottles, and then attempt to wash my hands using cold water. Ick.

I wonder if I can return to my dream on the way home?

Seriously Hot

I'm going to be in the hot seat... seriously.

For quite a while I've been preparing for a management meeting in Phoenix. This is my opportunity to demonstrate that I'm deeply committed to my position within the company and that I bring a fresh perspective and will make significant contributions.

But... I'm not ready and I'm running out of time. The clock keeps ticking, the hands whirl around at light-speed these days. My discussion and presentation on human resource issues just isn't there yet, and I can hardly make heads-nor-tails of my notes on drugs and alcohol issues in the workplace. What am I going to do to get ready? I can't work longer hours, I have family commitments. I'll have to put off some of my usual day-to-day duties. Yikes.

Not that I'm worried that my input at the meetings won't be listened to, but I want to be as prepared and as articulate as possible. Professional. That's the image I want to be associated with. A strong, confidant woman that brings sound ideas to the table in a calm, professional manner. With supporting information, not to be researched further, but at her fingertips. I want to bring my end of the discussions back to the basics: dollars and cents. How are my suggestions going to affect the bottom line? Or to use a different process: how can I influence the implementation of something positive for all the employees here and demonstrate that the impact will result in lower expenditures for the company at the same time? How can I make my ideas irresistible?

Research, polish and practice. A former colleague used to constantly recite the 5 Ps: Proper Planning Precludes Poor Performance.

So, I'd better get back to my work - no more slacking with writing this blog today. I've got some serious work to do.

Light Streams Across the Windowsill

Light streams across the windowsill
Chasing away the shadows
From my heart that no one knows
Perhaps they will when I am still

Like an ever changing river flows
Emotions rise, fall, twist and turn
Even I cannot discern
Whither my mood goes

At times life's a struggle uphill
The weight of sadness grows
Yet on occasion Nature bestows
Upon me hope of a future still

Who Am I?

Identity crisis here I come... Who am I?

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I'm an important part of my family. Wife, mother, daughter, sister. The mother bear in me is cuddly and soft, but fierce when defending loved ones.

I'm a fiercely loyal friend. I want only the best for my dearest friends and would do anything for them.

I'm a devoted employee. I love my work and the people I work with are more than just co-workers, they're close friends.

I'm becoming a stronger member of the community. I volunteer with Scouts Canada, I take an active role in my neighbourhood and I have deep commitment to the ecosystem.

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While all of the above statements are lovely, none of them reveal anything about me. They could describe anyone. These days I feel like nobody knows me beyond my public persona. Who am I when no one is looking? When no one is needing me? When I'm just, well, me?

These are the things I'd like to do, hopefully with friends and family:

• take drumming lessons (I'd love to be in a pipe band again, this time as a snare drummer)
• cross country ski (I love the gliding across the snow, slogging up the hills, hearing the crunch of the snow, listening to the slough of snow falling from trees, seeing my breath, feeling the full-body exhaustion at the end of the day)
• work in my garden (growing my own food and creating a beautiful haven for myself and the local wildlife)
• help fight against invasive plant species
• hike in the local mountains
• attend musical events (such as the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra)
• write

So, here's my problem. How can I fulfil my commitments to family, friends, work and the community while incorporating some of my own desires? Will I be a better, happier, more well-rounded person if I focus a little bit on myself? I don't have much spare time - hardly any at all really. After a bit of soul searching I've come up with a game plan:

1) Free up some personal time: I'll finish Andy's busy book - this should free up some time once it is complete. It is almost done. I should clarify: 10 pages are almost done. My goal of 20 pages was just too lofty. The 10 pages that have already been created just need tabs sewn on each page, corrugated plastic inserted into each page's pouch, then a seam sewn across the bottom. If I get a chance to work on the other 10 pages I'll be thrilled, but I'm not going to beat myself up in the meantime.

2) Train to be in better physical shape: Each day I'll make an effort to incorporate some exercise. I need to be in much better shape if I'm going to do any hiking or cross country skiing. Leaving the van at the house and walking to daycare to pick up the boys each day is a good start. I could even take the jogger stroller and, wait for it, here it comes... jog. Note to self - must buy a better bra with more support.

3) Commit to a plan that includes an activity I want to do: I'll plan, far in advance, a day for going cross country skiing this winter. I'll go to one of the local mountains and rent a set of skis/boots/poles. The advanced planning should take care of the weekends getting away from me. I know Daryle won't want to go with me, but Daniel is now old enough and perhaps other friends and family would like to join me. We'll head out early, ski for a while in the morning, have lunch, complete with delicious sandwiches, fruit and mugs of hot chocolate. If we still have any energy left, we can ski for a little while in the afternoon.

4) Commit to writing every day: Whether at home, work or somewhere in between, I'll take the time to explore different topics. Perhaps I'll pick a theme to cover in a particular week. Who knows? The nice thing about writing is that it can be as personal or impersonal as you'd like, covering any topic under the sun, taking many different formats, styles, etc.

5) Accept that some things aren't on the agenda at the moment: It just isn't feasible right now to take up drumming. Perhaps when the boys are a little older I'll have more time to take some drum lessons. But for now, I'll be content with the occasional session of closet drumming at home.

In the meantime, in accordance with this diagram posted by a very dear friend, I'm not going to worry. I'll take action when and where I can and I won't worry about the things that are out of my control.

Sleeping With Strange Men

Hold on now! It's not what you think - REALLY!!!! Let me explain:

Recently, Daniel's Beaver Scouts went on a camping trip. At Camp Byng the children and parents were to share digs in the main lodge. Nice... an actual mattress, not a roll-up foamy to sleep on or a tent/tarp to sleep under. Heated AND out of the elements. Lovely. All for $10 plus the cost of the ferry and gas.

So, after the official camp-opening ceremony, it was a free-for-all to find somewhere to sleep. All the parents scrambled to find a bunk in one of several rooms. There was almost a bed for everybody, shy by just two. Musical chairs had taken on a new spin - musical beds. Seriously, it was quite a scramble. The last two peole had to lay a couple of mattresses on the floor of one of the larger rooms.

Daniel and I, however, were lucky to find a bunk in one of the first rooms. When I found an available bed/bunk, I threw my gear on the lower bed and Daniel's gear on the bunk above and left the room to help get lunch ready. Didn't give a second thought to the layout of the room. Didn't even notice that our bunk was butted up against another bunk, essentially creating a large bed below with divided bunks above. Didn't even cross my mind that there might be a mix of mothers AND fathers sharing the room. It was only after dinner that I went into the room to set up the sleeping bags that I realised that I'd be sharing this large 'bed' with someone. Eek! Who would be sleeping next to me? Not a matter of feet away, but inches away...

Oh dear.

After the campfire, investiture ceremony and mug of hot chocolate, people started getting ready for bed. As the children climbed into their sleeping bags in the bunks above, I was able to figure out who the other adults were that were going to be sleeping nearby. Clockwise around the room: Tony, Me, Larry, Michelle, Carolyn's Dad, Ethan's Dad, Isaac's Dad and Darlene. So, it seems I'll be sleeping between Tony and Larry, with absolutely nothing but our sleeping bags between Larry and Me. Interesting. I changed into my pink penguin fleecy pajamas (sorry, but they were the most presentable/modest in my drawer) in the bathroom and hopped into my sleeping bag with a crime novel to keep me occupied. Eventually the lights were turned off. People began drifting off to sleep. Except me. Even with my earplugs firmly squashed into my ears I couldn't sleep. Neither Tony nor Larry had turned in for the night. I pretended to be asleep when they finally came into the room at about 1:30am. They didn't leave the room to get into their jammies, so I assume that they either slept in their clothes or changed in the room. I remained motionless with my eyes closed while they climbed into bed. Weird. That's how it felt. Very weird. So I lay there in the dark with my eyes closed waiting for morning to come.

After a while I removed my earplugs. KZZZZZKKKAAAAKAKKK, SCHAAAAAAAAAAAAACK, HAAAAAAAKKKKKKZZZZZZZ... Dear Lord, I was sharing a room with a few bears. Well, either bears, a chainsaw testing facility or a bunch of freight trains. Daniel, being extremely sensitive to snoring, had climbed down the ladder and was asking for some earplugs. Extremely frustrated by the racket, he was almost in tears. Shortly, after digging around in my duffel bag for another pair of earplugs, I had him settled back into his sleeping bag. After a minute or two he fell back asleep. I popped my earplugs back in. As the foam expanded, the room's din faded... to... nothing. Peace and quiet again. Aah.


Why couldn't I fall asleep? I knew I just needed to relax; thinking about not sleeping just gets me worrying and fretting. Not helpful at all. I think I finally dozed off at around 3:30am.


On Sunday morning, much more tired than when I crawled into bed, I arose and tried to function. "How was your sleep Larry?" He replied "I slept like a baby."

Oh Heck!!

Have you ever done something with the best of intentions, then realised that you either did it incorrectly or the outcome was the opposite of what you had intended?

Recently, I volunteered to coordinate the popcorn fundraising event for Daniel's Scouting group. I had no idea what a big job it was. However, after attending the training session (yes - a TRAINING session) I decided to give it my best effort. Well, one's best effort, when sleep deprived and feeling completely overwhelmed by life, is not particularly spectacular. In fact, my best effort was a dismal disappointment.

Being an intelligent person, perhaps giving myself too much credit on that front, I prepared for the first fundraiser kickoff presentation. Daniel, being my assistant popcorn fundraiser, had his sample sales pitch prepared and memorised. I wanted the other children to be just as enthusiastic about their sales pitches, so I prepared a big bowl of popcorn for them to sample. First I threw in the caramel flavoured popcorn, then the chocolate popcorn and then I added the freshly popped microwave popcorn... ACK! The chocolate began to melt, the popcorn started to clump together - what a mess! Heck!! Oh well, what child doesn't like chocolate? "Hello, boys and girls, I'm here tonight to talk about one of the most important fundraising events of the year." All the little pairs of eyes were watching me like hawks. Good, I thought to myself, I've got their attention."We're going to sell as much delicious popcorn..." I placed the bowl of popcorn down in front of them... and... whoooompph... no more little eyes were looking at me. Of course they were all elbow deep in the popcorn! Double heck! So, still smiling because frankly what else could I do, I ended up finishing the presentation for the few parents that had hung around and handed out the envelopes and popcorn sales forms. Not a stellar performance.

The next few presentations went much more smoothly. Together Daniel and I made a great team: I'd introduce the fundraiser then Daniel would demonstrate his sales pitch. No popcorn sampling involved.

Then I realised my big mistake - I had neglected to fill in some crucial information on the collection envelopes. Hadn't even looked at the envelopes - what was I thinking? Key information was missing, such as who to make cheques payable to, deadline date, pickup date, my contact information. HECK, HECK, HECK!!!!!

Sooooo, the very last presentation went extremely well. The collection envelopes had all the relevant information on them and included a package of microwave popcorn for the children to sample at home at their parents' convenience. The children were really great, they asked questions, were well behaved and enthusiastic. If only I'd been on the ball - all of the kickoffs would have gone this well.

I think I'll have to volunteer for the popcorn event again next year, just so that I can redeem myself and make up for my mistakes this year!

What Have I Learned Lately?

Although my life has accelerated to break-neck speed, I feel like my mind is a little stagnant. One of my very close friends focuses on learning. With this in mind, I've been looking at my life through a learning lens:

1) I have learned that if Andy's arms are waving, the chances of me wearing his meal are very high. I sit here with oatmealy circular splotches on my navy pants - remnants of Andy's breakfast.
2) I have learned that I can get a lot done around the house in the minute or two that it takes a bottle to warm up.
3) I have learned that both my sons are gentle, caring children.
4) I have learned that I must stop and try to assist an animal in distress, despite the impact it will have on my day. Shame on whoever it was that hit Bob the gentle neighbourhood cat, and left him to try dragging his broken and bleeding body home.
5) I have learned that I have the power to stand up to aggressive bank managers and insist that they respect my position in the company and that I will take my time and proceed with care when implementing new processes. I refuse to be railroaded.
6) I have learned that a soft voice or gentle touch is much more likely to get positive results when trying to get myself and the boys out the door in a timely manner in the mornings.
7) I have learned that I need to take time for myself.
8) I have learned that I love my life. I need to keep striving for balance, but ultimately, I love the way things are going.

My Second Childhood

I must say that I've having an absolutely fantastic time with Daniel's Beaver Scouts. Haven't actually been to one of his colony meetings yet (we've attended another colony twice as visitors), but I'm, or should I say, we are having a lot of fun.

So far I've attended the AGM, group committee meeting, emergency group committee meeting, popcorn fundraising kickoff, made a popcorn fundraising presentation, and sat on the sidelines for two Beaver Scout colony meetings. I've laughed, joked, made relevant comments and have witnessed adults working together to make children's experiences with Scouts safe, educational and a lot of fun. However, I don't think Daryle is very impressed that I'm not home very much. He certainly doesn't share my enthusiasm. Perhaps he'll join in the fun at some point - I'm not holding my breath.

This evening will be another busy one: I'm stopping by to visit Paul (Leader for one of the Scout groups) and then Wendy (another Leader for a different scout group) to drop off fundraising information. Afterwards, Daniel and I will head over to his Beaver colony, give our presentation, then he can settle in and get to know the other kids in his group. I hope I get along with the parents at the Thursday night colony as well as the parents at the Monday night colony. I may even switch to Monday night if necessary (I'm sorry, but Daniel has a blast regardless of what night he attends and I want to enjoy myself as well).

On Monday night Daniel did so well standing up in front of the children in Beavers to show them how easy it is to speak to others about selling popcorn. He used his own words, with a few extras thrown in by me. "Hi, I'm Daniel, I'm a Beaver Scout. Would you like to buy some scrumptious popcorn? We're trying to raise money so that our group can go camping." Scrumptious was actually his suggestion, so it stayed. I'm so proud of him - he did an awesome job speaking in front of his peers.

Feeling somewhat geekish (if that's a word) I can hardly focus on my work today in anticipation of how much I'll have tonight. Sheeesh, what have I become?

Herding Cats

Last night was Daniel's first Beavers meeting. Excitement doesn't begin to describe how he felt. Secretly I was a little pumped too. I've been wanting Daniel to be a part of scouting for a long time.

After a quick leader/parent meeting, I stayed to watch and had to stifle many outbursts of laughter. Oh my goodness!!! It was so funny to watch. I've got to give credit to the Leaders for their patience and positive attitudes through all the typical 5, 6 and 7 year old behaviours.

At the beginning of each meeting they go through a certain routine, part of which is called 'Riverbanks'. The leader calls out "Riverbanks" and all the children are supposed to stop running around and line up together in two rows with their arms stretched forward to rest on the shoulders of the person in front of them to form the banks of the river where the beavers live. Cute concept, don't you think? The reality was this: when "Riverbanks" was called, some children paused in their play and sauntered around, wondering what to do, while others completely ignored the command. Two out of the ten kids lined up to form the river banks. Giggles of embarrassment from the parents. "I can't believe that MY child didn't listen..." "It looks like they're trying to herd cats."

After the kids have been rounded up and shown how to line up for Riverbanks, they sit in a circle (Beaver Dam) and have a discussion and play a game to remember each other's names. A minute or two later the Hawkeye (head Leader) asks "Marcus, do you need to go to the washroom?" A nod of his head and he heads for the washroom, followed by half of the entire troop. Giggles from the parents on the benches.

Five minutes later the children are divided into two teams to play crab-soccer. Within seconds they've jumped up from the crab pose to their feet to chase the ball. Then all heck breaks loose:  leaders try to get the kids to get back down into the crab pose, Eric kicks Justin, Cathy runs crying to her dad that Justin got kicked and our Daniel stands in the middle of the melee telling the air that his arm has a cast and that he's not going to do the crab pose. Chuckles again from the peanut gallery.

On our way home Daniel tries to remember the Beavers Motto, Promise and Law. Heck, I can't remember all three, but I'm sure I soon will. Daniel will get a badge or perhaps his scarf and woggle, I think, if he gets all three memorized. Do I get one too? All kidding aside, I think this is a great opportunity for Daniel to broaden his horizons and become a very well rounded individual. On his Hawkeye's instruction that he's personally responsible for taking care of his uniform and needs to treat it with respect, Daniel has already hung up his uniform neatly in his closet ready for his next meeting.

I'm so glad that, despite my screaming headache, I stayed to observe the meeting. I'm beginning to pick up on the jargon and at least I'll be able to talk with Daniel about what's going on at the meetings. What a wonderful program - teaching responsibility, sharing, caring, self-discipline, etc. I'm going to do everything in my power to make this a wonderful, memorable journey for Daniel.

What is This? Who am I? Where am I?

I feel like I'm in a spin. Out of control. My head feels like it is going to split into about 10 pieces. Not into 2 like a somewhat normal headache. If I could, I would put my head down on my desk and cry. It hurts THAT bad.

I don't know why I feel sooooo crummy.

It has been a really good day. Honestly. I had to tell our evening cleaning person that we've changed companies and the conversation went as well as could be expected. I HATE having to do these sorts of things. Very stressful.

I also arranged for Daniel to attend a different Beavers colony tonight instead of on Thursday because I'm in charge of the popcorn fund raising effort for the 4th Surdel Scouts and need to attend the information session on Thursday.

What else was good about today? I ordered Daniel's Beavers hat online (his head wouldn't fit into any of the hats stocked at the store - poor kid) plus I added a couple of books for him to read. I wish I had my paperwork from the hospital handy so that I could call Dr. Cast about Daniel's follow-up appointment to check that his arm is healing properly. I can deal with that though - just have to get through the day and get home first to look for the sheet of paper with the right information.

In addition to these little, and not so little, things that I've accomplished today I've managed to eat well. A bowl of cereal for breakfast and a large salad with chili for lunch.

Well, I haven't managed to talk myself out of feeling yucky. A glass-half-full type person would likely respond that I should try the reverse. Talk about feeling good, don't focus on the bad.

Sure.

Go away. It's time for me to put my head down and turn out the lights.

Quickly Now...

I have exactly 7 minutes to get out a quick update of what my evening has in store for me:

Tonight I'm going to pick up the boys, raid the neighbour's garden for fresh veggies and figs, rush inside to make dinner (I'm thinking rice, chicken, fresh greens and broccoli), give the boys their baths, prepare formula, wash the dishes, hopefully throw on a load or two of laundry, read a bedtime story, put the boys to bed, work a little bit on Andy's busy book, then collapse into bed.

Oh, and I was hoping to raid the blackberry patch again for some more berries to make into jam

... and play with the boys

... and spend some time with Daryle

... and organize my photos for an upcoming scrap booking event

... and read my book

... and update my blog

** I have about 2 minutes left **

... and finally clip that hangnail that keeps snagging on EVERYTHING

... and call a couple of friends to catch up on how their week went.

** 1 minute left **

Whewww. I'm exhausted just thinking about everything.



I think I'll just enjoy the minute of relaxation - it may be my last for the day (laughing).

Writer's Fest

6 events in 2 days. Now, this is my idea of fun. Yes, I am a pencil neck geek (thanks to Grant Lawrence for getting this particular phrase stuck in my head).

However, this year is a little challenging. Andy is only 9 1/2 months old and I am still getting up once or twice each night. Hence the rubber-chicken, head bobbing, about-to-drift-off-to-sleep routine while attending the evening lectures. My deepest apologies to Judy Fong Bates and Giles Blunt for my sleep-deprived rudeness at their events.

My first event at the writers' fest was to listen to Charles Foran. Who? A rock star according to all the people waiting in line around us. They can't wait to hear him, their excitement buzzes around us. Okay, sure. We take our seats and scan the front of the auditorium and see a somewhat dishevelled, greasy-looking, used-car-salesman-look-alike chatting to some festival organisers. No - say it ain't so. This cannot be Charles Foran, he looks so... well... icky. I should know better - and be less judgemental. He is brilliant. His discussions about and readings from his Mordecai Richler biography are riveting. I'm not a Mordecai Richler fan, so I'm very pleasantly surprised to hear about both the rude, belligerent and tender, caring sides of this larger-than-life Canadian personality.

Our next event, this year's Bruce Hutchison Memorial Lecture, has Judy Fong Bates speaking about growing up as the only Chinese girl in her community. She opens the lecture by speaking directly to the audience; lively, warm and her comments are heartfelt. Then she starts to read directly from her notes. Ugh. I wish she had just made a few point-form notes and spoke to us in the direct, relaxed manner she used at the beginning of her event. While her topic is interesting, her soft-spoken gentle voice lulls me to sleep. I keep waking up with my head jerking up from my chest. Dad isn't faring any better. She drones on about half an hour beyond her scheduled time. Honestly, it feels like this event will never end.

Every year that I've attended the first event on Sunday mornings the audience has been sparse and rather sleepy. The audience at this  year's early morning event proves to be no different. However, we're in for a treat. Wayne Grady and Merilyn Simonds are hilarious! Their lively banter and witty remarks keep the audience in stitches for most of the lecture. Together, but very much on an individual basis, they wrote a book about their trip from Vancouver to Toronto via the U.S. coastlines (picture their route as a giant smiley-face). Merilyn's sections begin with an 'M' and Wayne's with a 'W'. As they take turns reading excerpts from the book, they emphasize the M or W - entire audience chuckling at the wee joke. Merliyn chats about relationship-related things while Wayne speaks of facts and figures - audience chortles in response to spousal digs and jabs between the two of them. We all leave feeling quite awake and cheerful, those of us with books to sign bolting up to the tent to have a quick chat with Wayne and Merilyn and get their autographs.

Next up: Grant Lawrence. OMG. This event was my only personal choice, all the others had been selected by Dad. As Dad is an avid reader, I'm always more than happy to attend events chosen by him, but I am also glad we didn't miss out on this one. A self-professed pencil-necked geek, Grant appears as anything but. He's handsome (actually gorgeous with brilliant blue eyes), muscular and speaks with such animation that I think the entire audience is quite captivated. I know I am. He reads from his book titled "Adventures in Solitude: What Not to Wear to a Nude Potluck." We're all having a great time, it's like he's speaking to each one of us individually. I suppose his background as lead singer for a band and hosting radio shows on the CBC have provided him with a lot of public speaking practice. I can't wait to tuck into his book.

After spending a pleasantly exhausting lunch break with Mom N, Mom J, Daniel and Andy, Dad and I are already quite tired by the time we find our seats for Giles Blunt's lecture. You see, after our lunch at the A and W we went and tired ourselves out swimming at the pool in Sechelt. Fighting the current in the river run and tossing a ball around wore us out. Unfortunately, Giles' gory readings aren't quite enough to keep my mind focused, his monotone voice lulls me into a fixed-gaze zombie state while I try to stay awake by gouging my nails into my palms and thighs. I think I managed to avoid a repeat performance of my rubber chicken impression from last night. It was a close call.

Dad and I saunter down the street to have dinner at the local Indian restaurant; each having the lamb curry and freshly prepared chai tea. Satiated, we head back to the festival. After an unsuccessful quick search for caffeinated products we nervously head over to our final event. We're nervous about whether or not we'll be able to keep our eyelids open the entire time. Fingers crossed - me with my nails gouging into my palms for good measure.

When I first read the festival write-up about Ivan Coyote and Veda Hille I wondered if Dad had lost his mind in making this selection. Of course not - their performance is absolutely fantastic. If you ever get the opportunity to see Ivan and Veda perform together - seize it! Ivan tells various stories about her life with Veda playing musical pieces in between. Sounds dull doesn't it? Wrong!!! Do the exclamation marks get my point across? Probably not. I couldn't find a clip of them performing together, but to prove how good they are here are clips of Veda Hille singing her song LuckLucky and Ivan Coyote speaking at the Vancouver Poetry Slam to give you an idea of the talent they bring to the writers' fest. We're all enjoying their event so much that towards the end when we're asked to join in a round of "Tuktoyaktuk Hymn" we all sing along. The auditorium is filled with a giant choir of discordant voices. Glancing around, other audience members are blissfully singing along, in tune, out of tune, everyone is happy.

So, on this cheerful note, another writers' fest wraps up. Having had our literary fill, Dad and I return to the house happily chatting about the festival and its the highs and lows. Yet again I'm in awe of the speakers and the efforts of the staff and volunteers that make this such a memorable event.

I wonder who'll be on next year's schedule?

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggitty Jig

The difference between loneliness and solitude is subtle. When travelling alone, one could succumb to a bout of loneliness or relax and enjoy the solitude. For my part, I've basked in the solitude. The peaceful, quiet minutes and hours have passed quite happily. I love to sit and read, people watch and occasionally jot down a few scribblings, so having some time to myself feels luxurious and self-indulgent.

Recalling dinner last night, I wonder what the other galvanizers thought of me. People often misinterpret my quietness as a lack of interest. So, difficult as it was, I tried to ask questions, remember names, and remain light-hearted and relaxed. Perhaps my efforts paid of as everyone I met at the seminar was pleasant and I'm actually looking forward to the next one.

Information gleaned from the seminar was... I don't know... interesting. The SAP session covered information about implementing one system to cover the entire business cycle from initial customer contact to collection of invoices and included such things as scheduling and materials planning. However, it was far too expensive (upwards of $40,000) for our little company to implement. The electronic banking session re-sparked my interest and I'll be following up with my financial institution to refresh the information I have on hand about online banking. A zinc supplier discussed different zinc purchasing methods and the challenges of shipping zinc for on-time deliveries, I'll be making inquiries with our supplier about possibly setting up a consignment scenario. The insurance and accounting portions weren't particularly applicable to Canadian companies, but even they have given me some items that I'd like to get clarification on from our accountant.

With the insurance and accounting sessions being in the middle of the afternoon after a nice lunch of a turkey sandwich I had a hard time staying awake. At break time I bolted for the door to get some fresh air and went for a walk, not realizing that my movements were being watched. As I stretched my legs and took in the snippet of scenery, I took my time. I was gone for about 10 minutes, 5 minutes beyond break time. I didn't think it would really matter if I was gone an extra few minutes as throughout the seminar, attendees had been taking extended breaks, some even missed entire sections of the agenda. I was therefor surprised when Phil said they were waiting for me before beginning the next discussion. "Really? You're kidding?" "No, we're glad you're back, have a seat." Sheesh. Still feeling a little sleepy, I took a Diet Pepsi for its caffeine content and returned to my seat.

The session on harassment and HR was quite good. The lawyers covered topics like sexual, age, and racial harassment, immigration issues, employee discipline and termination, and they constantly reminded us to document, document, document. Following the harassment and HR session I had a really good conversation with my neighbour and we discussed several scenarios that our companies had been through and how they had been handled.

The Rocky Mountains slide under the plane as we fly over the ever-increasing number of snow-topped peaks and the threads of back-roads diminish. Flying above the clouds now, my notepad is partially bathed in warm sunlight. I long to see the familiar scenery of home. With any luck I'll spot our house, the office and maybe even my little ones playing in Liz's yard. My arms ache to hold them.

This morning, somewhat to my relief, my shuttle bus neglected to pick me up from the hotel. Aaaaahh. I was pleased to avoid having to endure a white-knuckled return trip to the airport. Glad to have planned my journey to the airport with a safety buffer of an addition hour, I managed to remain calm, demanded a full refund and immediately called a cab. Said taxi appeared almost immediately and a cheery, talkative young mom-of-two whisked me off to the airport. No lurching, no white knuckles, just pleasant banter.

Boarding both flights to and from Denver had minor hiccups. Heading out, I found that my seat had been re-assigned and the hiccup flying home was that United Airlines hadn't scheduled any employees to get the passengers onto the plane. Like unthinking farm animals we all watched the plane pull up to the gate, the passengers disembark, luggage was unloaded, the new luggage loaded and then... nothing. We all stood at the gate wondering what was going to happen next. Eventually one employee showed up and announced for everyone to please come to the desk with their documents ready. Of course she was instantly swamped by a plane-load of people. Gone was the prioritizing of passengers and boarding in an orderly manner, it was a free-for-all crush.

We've now been in the air for about and hour and a half and looking out the window I see a thick coniferous forest below, I wonder how far from home we are. At least this area looks more familiar, the comforting darkness of the evergreens blanketing the sides of the mountains. Reflecting back on my trip I'm glad I went to Denver. I learned a lot and made some great contacts in the industry. Even when things went slightly awry, my fellow travellers in the airports and on the plane stayed in good spirits.

Hotel Bound

Negotiating my way out of the airport posed an unforeseen challenge. I could not see a sign that said "EXIT" or "outside world - this way" and when I approached a customer service desk there was absolutely nobody there. At a loss, I actually resorted to approaching a stranger who looked like they knew what they were doing. Once in the main terminal I found a shuttle service that had the Denver Tech area listed prominently as a destination - perfect. With door and platform number in hand, I headed out of the terrifying airport.

Jumping from the kettle into the fire is what happened next. Quickly apparent was the error in choosing this particular shuttle company. When I first approached the platform I could see a driver cleaning his windows and wiping some bugs off the front of his van. Was this my shuttle? It looked very welcoming. No, no, no. Mine was filthy - covered in a week's worth of grime and sounded like a bucket of bolts. My heart sank. I was tempted to go and get a refund, yet decided to chill out and see what was going to happen next. You never know, I might have a very pleasant experience regardless of the dilapidated state of the vehicle. Wrong.

 I'd already begun to think I've made a very, very big mistake in travelling to Denver. In the terminal there were signs informing people where to find the tornado shelters. TORNADO SHELTERS!!!! And upon leaving the air conditioned micro climate of the airport, I staggered out into the blast furnace that is Denver, and then, much to my alarm, we drove past a larger than life statue of a dark blue horse rearing up with glowing red eyes. What the hell?!!! What sort of people live here and what do they worship? The demon horse frightened the beejeepers out of me. I wished I could turn around and return home on the very next flight.

Despite my churning stomach I sat calmly and watched the scenery go by. I must admit, it was actually rather beautiful. It reminded me a lot of driving along the highway approaching Merritt, the wide open views, sprawling buildings, dry, open grassy areas. As I tried to distract myself with the lovely scenery, my driver's right foot seemed to rise and fall with no relation to the flow of traffic or distance between us and the vehicle ahead. Lurch forward, slip back a bit, lurch forward again, again, again. I think the vehicle in front of us must have thought that we were going to drive right over top of them. We lurched through the downtown core, lurched through "Orchard" and finally stopped at my hotel. Relief.

Short, Quick Flight to the Land of Denver

I'm ready - finally. Having packed and re-packed my carry-on bag no less than five times, I'm ready to call for a cab to take me to the airport. A fine start to the beginning of my solo adventure to Denver. Phone call made, I begin to unpack - yet again. Logic being: I must be able to fit my purse in there along with everything else, I just need to rearrange things a little. I have been informed that the taxi will take at least 20 minutes to arrive. The dispatcher was...wrong. The doorbell rang when I was only halfway down into the bag. Oh dear. Stuff, cram, jam and zip (of course while attempting to restrain the contents which were trying to liberate themselves).

A nervous, rather jumpy traveller, I arrived at the airport a full four hours early. I suppose I'm cautious with a capital "c". Nervous and awkward though I am, I feel prepared. My wallet has been emptied of absolutely everything not relevant to the trip, Visa has been informed of my travel plans, the boys are safely ensconced with Liz and I have plotted my path needed when I'm disgorged from the cab.

Once at the airport I feel overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place. I'm a tiny sparrow entering an eagle's aerie, I move ahead tentatively. Where do I go? What do I need to do? Is there still an airport improvement fee to be paid?

Slight  p a n i c.

Right in front of me is a small counter with some pamphlets. I drop my bag down and try to gain a bearing of where I am. In the correct place apparently - what luck. Or should I say, what luck that the airport was planned well - considering idiots like me. I have landed at the US Customs Declaration pamphlet counter - good. Document complete, I head towards the check-in counters, gasping in distress when the lineup appears to be long enough that it looks as though people have set up camp; their belongings sprawled around them haphazardly. Like a beacon in the night a computer kiosk glints in the light beckoning me to come over and try its check-in process. Surprisingly simple (am I referring to myself or the kiosk?), I'm quickly checked in and smugly saunter towards security having dodged the gargantuan lineup. The airport continues to shock and surprise me as I easily flow through security, US Customs, the declaration desk and at last I proceed to the pre-boarding waiting area. Yes! This travelling thing isn't too bad - yet.

I have plenty of time to have lunch (a bento box - yummy) and enjoy a leisurely wait at my departure gate. My new read "Adventures in Solitude - What Not to Wear to a Nudist Potluck" is certainly entertaining and my waiting time passes quickly. After two other flights have departed from my gate, it looks like my flight is next.

I wonder how I'll cope on board. In the waiting area I've moved twice to get away from annoying fellow passengers. It's odd. When I first sat down I was the only person in a row of twenty seats. What would possess someone to sit directly beside me? How could that seat possibly have been more inviting than the other seventeen not directly adjacent to me? I couldn't take it - after five minutes of said person slamming against the seat-back I up-sticks and relocated. My next location wasn't much better. It had at first looked appealing, what with the cheerful European family quietly chatting amongst themselves. Well, as soon as they boarded their plane to LA, a sports group, raucous with youthful vigour and excitement, filled the seats around me. Their excitement, not being particularly contagious, I escaped to the most isolated, bleak chair available. It's really not that bad. I have a view of my plane and the tarmac and lots of legroom in front of me.

As the lot of us proceed through the final screening, I'm informed that my seat has been re-allocated. Hmmm, pardon me? My seat has been... what? A few heart palpitations later and I'm seated in a slightly upgraded seat with a bit of leg room. Nice. As we taxi out onto the runway the pilot makes his usual announcements and tells us that it looks like we're going to have a "short, quick flight to the land of Denver." Land of Denver?

Shedding a Tear

I haven't nursed or pumped since yesterday morning. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not terribly upset about it either. However, I am feeling a little glum.

I know, I know. To many people, nursing a baby is considered a bit of an indulgence, almost selfish. Baby will do just fine without feeding directly from its mother is what I've been told recently. Babies have been surviving very well for decades on formula without any issues. Baby's big brother is just fine and he was fed solely with formula. True, my first baby wouldn't nurse and he is certainly a healthy, happy 7-year-old boy now. But I can't help feeling a sense of loss at the prospect of never nursing Andy again. My milk filling his little tummy, the comfort both of us receive from being snuggled so close together, etc. However, as schedules and the demands placed on me have changed recently, nursing has become more of a chore. Andy hasn't nursed from me for over a week and pumping takes so much time. After a rough night, of which there are many, I would really rather sleep a half hour longer than sit on the loveseat and pump milk. Then at the end of an always-frantic day, rather than topple into bed to catch a few winks, I have to pump then store some milk.

Enough. I've had enough and right now seems like a good time to go through the agonies of drying up. I wish I had the luxury of staying home with Andy for the entire year of maternity leave, but that's just not feasible. I wish I didn't have to go on a business trip in the next few days either, but I have to go - it is part of my job now that I'm the office manager at work. I wish I had more time to pump and weren't rushed for time at the beginning or end of the day.

All these thoughts were running through my head tonight as I sat beside my father as he drove us back to the house after the final event of the Sechelt Writers' Festival tonight. I actually felt a little surprised about how emotional I feel about stopping nursing. Looking out the window, I felt a tear trickle down my cheek.

Am I doing the right thing? Will Andy be able to produce enough antibodies of his own to fight off colds and viruses? Will I put all the weight back on that I had lost? Will I be able to control my incessant eating habits? So many questions to which I don't have the answers.

Wasting My Time

Today is one of those magical days that unexpectedly appear from time to time. I have the unexpected luxury today of not having to go in to work.

Yesterday's hard work paid off: I had gone in to the office for a few hours in the morning (with both boys too!) and worked from home in the afternoon. After dinner I scooted in to the office again to drop of the work I had done. So after doing a bit of work from the house this morning, I don't need to go in to the office at all today!

Aaaah, I can stay home.... time to relax. I switched on the TV and began watching a cooking program, flicking to a decorating program when the ads came on. Then I heard the sweetest sound - baby Andy cooing from where he was playing nearby. What was I thinking by wasting my time watching the TV? How could I possibly waste this precious day and not make the most of my time with Daniel and Andy?

Click! Off went the TV and I got down on the floor to have some playtime with Andy. We played a couple of little games. He's now having his morning nap and I'm trying to figure out what activity I can do with both boys when Andy awakens. I think a nice walk with the stroller and then some time in the back yard will be a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

I'm definitely not letting this day waste away!

Working up the Nerve to be a Night Prowler

Recently I've discovered that I'm not particularly shy. I can actually stand up in front of a group of people and speak with confidence. For some reason though, I've been avoiding a particular plant rescue.

I get a real rush from rescuing plants from demolition sites and abandoned properties. So far I've rescued lilacs, bluebells, beautiful deep purple columbine, solomon's seal, daylilies, a flowering currant shrub and a wee boxwood. Next on my list is a Gravenstein apple tree and a pear tree. The site they're on at the moment is about to be bulldozed to make way for freeway construction. I'm quite prepared. A dwarf host tree has already been established and awaits its new grafts. Somehow I just can't seem to sum up the courage to drag the construction fencing aside and enter the property to take my cuttings.

These two trees really need rescuing. The apples are absolutely delicious, I've never tasted anything like them before. They had the perfect crunch and an incomparable sweetness. Although the pears were far from beautiful, they made a fabulous pear sauce. Soooo delicious. Oops, I've just exposed another odd side of myself - gleaning. I'll admit that I just don't understand why good food goes to waste, whether it is unpicked from the fields at harvest time or fallen fruit in empty lots. I have no shame, I quite happily gathered the fallen apples and pears then brought them home and prepared them for the family. The food tasted so good, was grown locally with no sprays or fertilizers and absolutely no fossil fuels were burned to get the harvest to my table. Love it!!!

I think I've talked myself into an evening raid of the property at the bottom of the hill. Perhaps not tonight, but in the very near future. I'll let you know how it goes.

Sleeping Like a Baby

When Andy was born I felt like I got a chance for a do-over. You know, when the first time around you just didn't get it right and when you did it again you handled it much better. Well, Daniel was a challenging baby. Or should I say rather that I lacked the confidence to parent him with consistency. I thought I'd have all the answers this time around.

Let's take sleeping for an example. Daniel slept in bed with Daryle and I since we brought him home from the hospital. It was when he was about a year and a half old that I couldn't handle perching on the very edge of our bed any longer and he made the transition to a crib. In our room for the first few months of course. Heaven forbid that I could put him in a separate room.

Daniel had been what was then called colicky. He cried and cried and cried. For hours. I recall pacing all afternoon with him, handing him over to Daryle for the early evening and then pacing most of the night with him. Sometimes I had to just put him down and walk away for a few minutes to get a little breather. It was the toughest thing I've ever been through. He just wanted to be held. Constantly. At some point I picked up a very light fabric baby carrier and I carried him with me almost everywhere. We did everything together: made dinner, worked on the computer, cleaned the house, folded laundry and so on. Poor little guy had an extremely difficult time falling asleep as well. I was one of those moms that tried everything with no success. What I didn't realize was that if I had picked a method and stuck with it, Daniel probably would have become used to falling asleep in a certain way and our troubles wouldn't have been so bad.

With Daniel's crying and sleeping issues in mind, I thought that having Andy would allow me to try the mothering thing again with more success. If the boys were more similar in temperament this may have been true. Where Daniel refused to nurse, Andy has been very stubborn about taking a bottle. Daniel cried for hours and Andy, well, not quite so much. Daniel slept best when either cuddled to us or snuggled up with us in our bed. Andy, from day one, has wanted his own sleeping space. He doesn't like to fall asleep on people and won't fall asleep in bed with me.

Andy's been fighting a bacterial infection as a result of the excessive scratching of his eczema. We had a very difficult time getting the better of it. The topical cream wasn't quite effective enough for us, so he had to be put on oral antibiotics. He'd scratched his face so raw that at one point it was weeping. Of course it kept him up at night and when he did fall asleep, he would awaken in a short time because his skin was so itchy. Poor thing. Just as we had the infection under control he came down with the virus that Daniel had been fighting. For about a month now Andy, Daniel and I have been fighting the virus and at last the battle appears to have been won and we're all feeling back to our normal selves again. Daniel's energy levels are back, Andy's eating like a horse and I've finally got some energy to do some things around the house and take the boys out every now and then.

One of the nice things about returning to normalcy is getting Andy used to sleeping in his crib again. I had been putting him to sleep in his swing for the entire time he was sick. He simply couldn't lay down without coughing and the swing would help lull him back to sleep during the bacterial infection as well. Today is the first day he's taken both his naps and been put directly into his crib at bedtime. Aaahh.

I put him down for the night a couple of hours ago and wouldn't you know it - he's already stirring. I'm hoping the couple of pats and standing beside his crib will do the trick, but I don't think so. Uh-oh I hear him crying now. I'd better go and help him get back to sleep.

Popcorn

I crave popcorn. Constantly. It is like an addiction.

We have an air popper and within minutes I can have a nice bowl of yummy fresh, hot popcorn, ready to be devoured. The air popper itself is nothing special, in fact it is a rather sad affair. The glue on the top portion has come unstuck and at the slightest touch the contraption falls apart, clattering to the counter with a racket. The popcorn hopper/dumper routinely falls out of its guide holes and the metal butter melting tray is missing altogether. I use an upside down candy tin lid to block the hole (it’s quite a feat to get the hot lid back on the candy tin just after the popcorn has popped). The important thing is that the machine works.

Getting the butter melted is also rather fun. I always feel a little sinister as I stab at the block of butter trying to break off suitably sized chunks. I tried melting the butter in the upside down candy tin lid – once. The butter didn’t fully melt and what a mess it made! I couldn’t even return the lid to the candy tin right away as it needed a good washing.

So, after drizzling the butter as evenly as possible over the popped corn, then scraping the last traces of butter out of the dish using some popped kernels I give the bowl a couple of light shakes of salt. It would seem that my popcorn is ready! Hallelujah! Not quite. I can’t fully enjoy myself until the cleanup is done. I always get it over and done with prior to enjoying my treat. The popcorn maker gets whisked back up onto the shelf and the butter, salt and candy tin lid are tidied up as quickly as possible.

At last I can enjoy my bowl of popcorn!

As I’m sure any other obsessed person would do, I approach the popcorn with a particular method. The goal is to save the butteriest piece until the very last. The plain, unbuttery pieces get eaten first, and so on. Do I really SORT my popcorn? Yes, yes I do. Needless to say, this is a pastime best done alone. No sharing. How could I possibly pick up a piece, inspect it, then put it back in the bowl if I was sharing?

In my efforts to rehabilitate my eating habits I was planning on forgoing my popcorn fetish tonight, but… I think my buttery treat is calling me. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better time to begin using my willpower. Excuse me, I’ve got to retrieve my decrepit popcorn maker from the shelf…Sorry, but I won't be sharing.

Bathtime

My sweet little Andy loves his baths! Much to my surprise after a night of very little sleep, today I have enough energy to give him a bath after breakfast. He’s a little overdue and smelling… shall we say… a little ripe. This coming from a mother who is olfactorily impaired (I have difficulty smelling things).

After a long stretch of being ill, I’m beginning to feel like we’re getting back into a bit of a routine. The usual routine involves giving Andy his bath twice a week as instructed by our doctor. The reason behind this is that we don’t want to dry out his skin by constantly washing away his natural body oils. I also add a little bit of baby oil to the bath to replenish any oil washed away. The result is a mixed blessing – Andy smells fantastic, even to me, but his hair always looks unclean.

After the usual routine of washing his hair and giving him a quick wash I let him play for quite a while. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, within arms reach of him, and enjoyed watching him kick and splash and play with the rubber ducky and green toy boat. His giggling and laughing were contagious, I couldn’t help but laugh along with him and clap whenever he made a really big splash. We haven’t had this much fun together during bathtime for quite a while. I wish that the camera had been handy.

Pulled in All Directions

This morning I awake to my baby crying out for a bottle. I’m so tired that I try to breastfeed him. I suppose he didn’t get enough because an hour later he again awakes crying for a bottle. Ughh.

After another feed, this time a slightly more substantial one using the bottle he settles down for another brief period. I pray that he lets me sleep until 8:00am. Daryle kisses me goodbye as he heads off to work. Oh my, it’s only 6:30! Moments later Daniel, an early rising 7-year-old, comes in and asks me if he can play on the computer. “Yes, just keep the volume down.”

At 7:00 Andy no longer wants to sleep, he’s wide awake and ready to go. In his excitement to start the day the volume of his voice gets louder and louder until I can no longer pretend that I’m sleeping (desperately hoping this would make him think it is still nighttime so that he would drift off again).

Breakfast was a no-brainer. Just the usual cereal and a cup of tea. Now where should I begin tackling the day? I’ve got major, let me rephrase that, humongous, clothing issues to tackle. I need to fold and put away 5 loads of laundry, empty the clothes out of the boys drawers and cupboards that are too small, take the washed clothes that are either too big or too small for the boys downstairs, sort the clothes down there into sizes for storage or get them ready for charity, then bring the next size upstairs to be tucked away for them to use. I’m out of breath just thinking about how daunting a task this is.

Also, Daniel’s bedroom looks as though a bomb has hit. Together we need to sort through everything and organize the items he’ll be keeping. Have you ever tried to reason with a young boy about the merits of not keeping every single scrap of paper that he’s accumulated over the past year? He clings to things like pretty candy wrappers and computer print-out characters as though they’re his best friends.

Oh, and I mustn’t forget to phone and book his karate lessons, call his best friend’s mom to set up a playdate, call Grandma N to arrange a visit, and work on Andy’s busy book. Amongst all of this I’d like to get a little me-time in. Perhaps continue setting up my crafts room or lazily reading a book. No, I really should get some fresh air and work out in the garden. My beautiful, to my eyes only, garden. My oasis, my escape, my lifeline.

Knee-deep in weeds this year, it is showing a lot of signs of neglect. What with having Andy last October and not taking a break from work, I just haven’t had the time or energy to handle anything beyond the day-to-day chores around the house.

Well, I should get on with the day, whatever that will entail.

Inspired and Relieved

I have a very dear friend who is constantly amazing me. She has a lot on her plate and manages to write an incredibly thoughtful and insightful blog on top of everything else going on in her life. I am humbled. Honestly, I don't know how she manages all the balls she's got up in the air.

I have just finished reading a book that she recommended to me about Brooke Shields' journey through post-partum depression. What an eye opener! While reading it, her inner voice of post-partum depression sounded almost identical to the crummy inner voice I had listened to just after Andy was born. I can't tell you how terrifying and sickening it had been to feel the way I did at the time. I'm so thankful that I had a very mild case and managed to come through it okay. But I can understand how it is completely out of one's control whether or not they 'pull through' the darkness.

I find it difficult to admit, even to myself, how bad things had been. I recall driving along a section of River Road where many years ago a colleague from an airline I had worked for at the time, had gone off the road and drowned. The thought had occurred to me at the time that it would be so easy to just slip off the road... This was just one of many occurrences of these terrible thoughts. I will not elaborate on the others. As Brooke had said in her book, she had envisioned terrible things happening to her little Rowan, I had also envisioned terrible things happening to baby Andy. I'm just so grateful that time is over - although the post-partum depression can occur at any time during the first year after delivery. Theoretically I'm not quite out of the woods yet. My doctor questioned me about post-partum depression when I took Andy in for a checkup - perhaps I shouldn't have dismissed his enquiries so quickly. Maybe he could see something in me that I wasn't acknowledging.

Anyway, now that the lousy inner voice has stopped and my own inner voice has returned, I hope to begin functioning a bit better. If I can achieve half of what my close friend is accomplishing I'll be quite happy.

Check Out My New Blog

I'm so excited about making a busy book for our little Andy. The intention is to create a fun activity book to keep his hands and mind busy during otherwise dull moments of the day.

My dear Mum allowed me free reign to pilfer craft items from her stash, so I've got many fantastic odds and ends to incorporate into the book. In my rare spare moments I can be found happily working in my craft room ironing, piecing, sewing, etc.

Here’s the link if you’re interested in checking it out: http://keepinthelittleguybusy.blogspot.com/

I haven’t posted any photos yet, but they’ll be up in the next day or two.

Zippy

I spent a wonderful evening with Daniel last night. Scouts Canada was hosting an open house at his school, so we went to check it out. Among the activities set up was a zip line. Daniel's jaw dropped the first time he saw a child zoom by, suspended from a cable, literally flying from one tree to another. All the other activities paled in comparison.

Now, Daniel's a wonderful, caring, clever boy, but he's always held back a little when it comes to trying new physical activities. I could see that he wanted to try, but was very nervous about the zip line. "That looks like so much fun! Look Daniel, there's Marcus from the other Grade One class, join him in the line." But Daniel's not one to be so easily coerced. He had to do it on his own terms.

Step One: ASK PERMISSION
Although it looked like just about anyone could go for a ride, he insisted on getting permission from one of the Leaders. I suppose that because he's a people-person, talking to someone about it, rather than tackling the physical thing head on, was less intimidating for him.

Step Two: AVOID GETTING SCHMUCKED
Now that permission had been obtained, the race was on to get into the lineup. Without thinking about his surroundings, he bolted towards the lineup. The timing couldn't have been worse. As Daniel ran underneath the line, a child came whizzing directly towards him at break-neck speed... "Look out Daniel!!! Out of the way!"

Step Three: WAITING IN LINE
This was a very tricky step. A seven-year-old has a difficult time waiting in line at the best of times, but for an excited seven-year-old this was almost impossible. A couple of issues arose: avoiding getting whacked by zip line users and retaining his position in the lineup.

Step Four: FEAR FACTOR
Once up on the platform (built using a couple of large wooden boxes stacked on slightly uneven ground causing a very small wiggle to the pile) Daniel had a very difficult time overcoming his fear of ... well something. The Leader offered to let him sit on his shoulder to help him put his legs through the zip line sling. It was a bit of a difficult stretch getting his legs through the sling while holding on tightly with both hands. After a lot of convincing and three adults' help, Daniel was ready - ZIIIIIIPPPPPP....

Step Five: LANDING
...schrunnnnnnnnnnnn. Unfortunately, he didn't quite get his legs far enough through the sling and his bum ended up being dragged along the grass prior to stopping. However, this didn't dampen his enthusiasm or diminish his smile. He immediately ran back and rejoined the lineup.

So, while I completed some paperwork to register him for the Fall, he rode the zip line a total of FIVE times! Way to go Daniel! I'm so proud of you for overcoming your fears and trying something new.

By the way, does anyone have any surefire method for removing grass stains from jeans?

What the ....?

As you all know, I've got a little guy. He's still nursing, so while I'm at work I pump milk for him to drink later.

The usual routine is that after lunch I close my office door and do my thing. No big deal - most of the people in the office know I'll be done in about half an hour. Well, the other day I had an electrician come in to rewire our office for a new server. So he's crawling all over the place, including the ceiling. Well, when I sat down at my desk to pump, I didn't realize that two of my ceiling tiles were missing. Within a few minutes some wires started to descend into my office and when I looked up there was the electrician. Yikes!

He scurried away as quickly as he could. I almost laughed out loud at the situation. No wonder when he came back to the office the next day to do the last little bit of wiring he came and went before I even got into the office that day.

Wallet... Where?

Oh my goodness. Where to begin? My wallet sprouts legs on a regular basis these days. One would think that in some deep part of my soul I was wishing to get rid of it. Or perhaps I'm longing for a new life, as my wallet pretty much sums up my existence.

One day last week I grabbed subs for dinner and when I picked up the bag of sandwiches and turned to leave I completely forgot about my wallet, which remained on the counter for anybody to take. Yikes! Luckily the woman working behind the counter spotted my wallet and tucked it into the back office for safe keeping. (thank-you thank-you thank-you)

The following night, after meeting up with a dear friend and her eldest two children, I misplaced my wallet again. Ughhhh. This time it slipped between the seat and the console in our van. I realized it was missing when I went to retrieve some change for a 'hot lunch' for Daniel.

Not that I'm particularly superstitious, but these things seem to happen in threes. I'm wait in fear for the third time I misplace my wallet. With any luck it will turn up again as easily as it did the first two times. Fingers crossed.

Bottle Baby. I Wish.

Already three months old, my little Andy has distinct personality traits shining through. He's stubborn. Very. He's also cheerful, content, playful, flirty and curious. He gets quite bored with the same scenery after awhile and I find myself happily challenged to keep his little mind occupied.

When Daniel was tiny we fought to get him to breastfeed, but he flat out refused to nurse and we reluctantly gave in to bottle-feeding him. In Andy's case, he refuses to take the bottle. As part of my arrangement with work, I need to go into the office fairly regularly and I'd like to leave Andy with Liz, our daycare lady. However, I can hardly leave him with her if he's refusing to take a bottle. It's not fair on either of them (or the other children) if Andy's screaming for a feed and she's not able to give him a bottle.

We've tried everything we can think of, including going 'cold turkey' in our efforts to coerce him to take a bottle. Well, after hours of Andy shrieking and crying I gave up. He was sweating, trying to throw up, the soft-spot on his head was indented indicating that he was dehydrated and the look of terror in his face broke my heart. And the stress of the ordeal was causing my milk to start drying up. Each time I pumped at our regular feeding times I was getting less and less milk. Yikes! You can imagine my alarm at thinking that my milk was disappearing and he was still refusing a bottle. Soon we'd really be in a mess!

After all was said and done I snuggled with him in our usual spot on the couch and breastfed him. I have since made several attempts to get him to take a bottle, but his reaction remained the same (I didn't let it go so far as the dehydration though). Well-meaning friends and a couple of books on child-rearing have said that we should bottle-feed for two days straight. But I just can't imagine how ill he would be before he actually took the bottle. What really puzzles me though is that he did take it quite successfully when he was younger. We had made a point of introducing it quite regularly and at an early age. I'm at a loss as to why he won't take one now. I'm guessing that the slow-flow bottle nipple frustrated him and after we had purchased the fast-flow nipples he had already made up his mind. He wanted nothing to do with the bottle. But this I do know: there must be a more humane way for me to get the work done that I need to and keep my sweet little baby happy and well-fed.

As he is now showing interest in eating our food and he's able to hold his head up I will introduce him to infant rice cereal. I'm hoping that once he's eating some solids, I can take him to daycare and the solids will carry him through a bit of the afternoon before I'm back and can nurse him again.

A September Morning

I found this little note among my paperwork and thought it deserved a quick entry. I think it was from September when I was still expecting and keeping on top of my gestational diabetes.

I've woken up as usual at about 3:00am. Pay a quick visit then head to the kitchen for my nightly snack. Pour a glass of milk and munch on a few nuts to slow down the absorption of the carbs in the milk. Back to bed.

When Daniel wakes up, he comes and snuggles with me for a few minutes then asks if he can make his breakfast. Splendid idea kiddo. "You can make yourself some toast if you'd like, I'm going to have a shower first then I'll come out to the kitchen." My sweet, thoughtful son has a surprise waiting for me when I come into the kitchen a few minutes later. He's made a piece of toast for me and has put half of his chocolate chip cookie (if Daryle has to leave for work before Daniel's up in the morning he leaves a cookie on Daniel's placemat) with my toast. How sweet.

Germ Warfare

When picking Daniel up from school on Thursday he exclaims "Mom, I got some stickers today!!! See!?" Awesome... Daniel's excitement about a sheet of cartoon germ and virus stickers misleads me into thinking he actually liked the video and demonstration on how to stay healthy by keeping our hands clean. As we saunter to the van, Andy bobbing sleepily in his car seat along the way, Daniel tells me all about germs, viruses, protozoa and bacteria. Chatting happily, the sun warming our faces, we talk about his day, blissfully unaware of what a nightmare awaits us tonight.

As Daniel seems quite keen on the concept of hand-washing to battle the baddies, we decide to use his stickers to make a little poster. Positive re-enforcement - we give ourselves a pat on the back for our stellar parenting skills. The thought is to put it on his door to remind him to keep his hands clean, etc.

Cheerfully, we look on as he places the stickers on the bright blue sheet of paper. "Ooooo, that's a scary one Daniel" I comment as he places a cartoon protozoa on his poster. "This germ's really bad Mom, it can kill you." Daniel's dead serious too. He's no longer using his funny play voice, but his I-mean-business voice. My quick reply to him that that's why hand washing is so important does nothing to reassure him. Uh-oh. As he continues to dwell on the thought of the germ, Daryle and I try explain that the germ isn't going to kill us. Not in the near future anyhow. However, Daniel remains very focused on the germ. Within minutes we put the poster away and try to distract him by talking about other things.

That night, for the first time in years, Daniel requests a nightlight. With Andy already asleep in his crib, I quietly try to find a nightlight for Daniel's room. I rifle through Andy's armoire... here we are... Daniel's old moon lamp will do just fine. Now, where on earth are the electrical outlets in this room? After managing not to tip over Daniel's stack of games on his bookcase, I get the lamp plugged in and Daniel settles into bed. He tells me he's afraid that the germs are going to come and get him in the night. In my tired state, I tell him that germs don't care whether it is light or dark, they don't have eyes. Well, didn't that just set the poor guy up for a bunch of nightmares?!!

Daniel could not stay in bed. Period. He wanted me to snuggle with him in his bed, then when I went to my own, he decided to visit Daryle out on the couch in the living room. Roughly an hour later, he woke me up to ask to climb into bed with me. As I thought Daryle might come to bed soon, I set Daniel up with a soft towel from the bathroom and a blanket from the living room. He added his pillow to complete his makeshift bed on the floor near me. Unable to settle, he talked and talked and talked. This isn't working - back to bed kiddo. "Mommeeee, I can't sleep." "You don't need to sleep, just lay there with your eyes closed and think of things that make you happy." Well, you get the drift of how the night went...

It wasn't much better the next night either. I tried to implement his Clifford stuffie as a confidant for him. "Tell Clifford all about your DS and what you're looking forward to in school tomorrow." Daniel still got up half a dozen times. He tries so hard to stay in his bed. As the night crawls on his calls wake me: Mommeeeee... I need an adult to be beside me. Mommeeeee... I'm lonely. Mommeeeee... It's too dark. Mommeeeee... the germs are going to get me.

By Sunday he's an emotional wreck. The lack of sleep and constant worrying have reduced him to a teary-eyed overwrought fretting little guy. Tears running down his cheeks and his nose running he approaches me and claims "I'll be sad when you're dead Mommy." Yikes! Explaining further he says that the germs are going to get me and Daryle. Oh dear, this is spiralling out of control. Despite spending the weekend trying to reassure him, he's more freaked out than ever.

Sunday night I implement our battle plan. We're going to give Daniel a bath every night just before bed to wash all the germs down the drain. EVERY NIGHT. Not such a bad thing. Daniel agrees that the germs won't be able to come and get him if they've been washed down the drain. Good.

It is now the following Saturday and I'm very pleased to report that Daniel is again sleeping through the night. Our bedtime routine has been slightly modified to include an extended story time in addition to the bath. Together these two things make for a very relaxing, bonding bedtime. Daniel isn't feeling lonely, and the germs have been banished down the drain.

Welcome Back

Ahhh.... January. What a lovely month. I've always loved its crispness. Frost adds a touch of delicate lace to everything overnight, the sky (when not pelting rain) is a pale clear blue inviting me to go for a walk.

Rejuvenated this morning after a good sleep, I think I'll do my chores quickly, make a nice light lunch then pack up Andy in his stroller and get a leg-stretch before having to rush off and pick up Daniel from school. Feels like ages since I last managed a walk outside.

Yesterday was much like a roller coaster: very fast-paced with a lot of ups and downs. I left Andy with Mom while I went into work to go over year-end with Mr A and review his files for our official hand-off for his retirement. Poor Mom was trying to bottle-feed Andy, but he wasn't having any of it. For such a little thing, he's very determined to have his own way. Andy, I promise I will never again ask you to go on the bottle for such a long stretch of time again, poor little guy. We'll just have to wait for you to begin drinking from a sippy cup and begin eating solids. Poor thing - he was so upset. Kudos to Mom for so patiently trying to re-introduce him to a bottle.

This entry, although not much of a story, is a quick and simple effort to get back into blogging. I hope to have a more entertaining blog entry soon.