Tired and Itchy

Really tired today. Two reasons.

1) The medical degree I got on the internet... useless!

When I saw the doctor about my rash she told me to take an antihistamine for 7 days non-stop. I did that. I asked Daniel to buy be 7 days worth of antihistamines because I was confident that in 7 days this would be over. He got 10 because that was the smallest amount available. I ran out on Sunday and didn't buy anymore. I didn't think it was doing anything. I figured I would just take Benedryl and that would keep things in check. I was wrong. I scratched all night (even on a double dose of Benedryl).

2) Ice dancing.

Fell asleep on the counch around 9:30 (Benedryl!). When I finally dragged myself off the couch and upstairs around 10:30 I was WIDE awake so I flipped the TV on. Ice dancing was on. The announcers were going on about an expected Gold medal for Canada in ice dancing. People, I'm tired of expected gold medals. Canada's Olympic team hasn't done badly but they haven't remotely lived up to the hype. We're lost so many "sure" medals. So many gold medals have turned into "no medals." But the ice dancing pair? They were so cute and so sincere. I thought... maybe. So I pryed my eyelids open and I began to watch. I watched until shortly after 11. I watched until I saw the American pair skate (sorry I don't know the names I'm not really an ice skating fan - the guy had long blond curls). They were breath-takingly good. I was really tired and there didn't seem to be much point. How could the Americans NOT win gold after a skate like that? I went to sleep - so very tired. This morning when I flipped on the TV at 6 am there were the Canadians been interviewed - gold medals around their neck. Too funny.

Anyway, today I'm tired (did I mention that?). Tired and itchy.

I do whine a lot; don't I? Really life is pretty good.

I want to go home and put on my flannel PJs. Soft non-irritating flannel PJs. I'm watching the clock. Hard.

I have hives. Started about three weeks ago and at first it was really dismissable. I had 3 hives. On next to my belly button and two on the inside of each thigh. Then I had four on my elbow. The hives would disappear in the morning and show up again after dinner and weren't all that annoying. I rubbed benedryl on them (thought they might be bug bites although in the middle of winter that confused me) and waited for them to go away.

Then they started getting worse. Three hives became ten. Ten hives fifteen. At this point I made an appointment to see the doctor. My appointment was at 9:30 am - not a hive to be seen. Isn't that typical. She was understanding (outwardly; inwardly I'm sure she was rolling her eyes) and told me that's what hives do - they come and go. She told me it could be like this for months and to take an over-the-counter antihistimine for 7 days without a break and if they weren't gone by then to see an allergist. She gave me a referral to the allergist. That was last week.
The hives weren't that bad at that point and this seemed reasonable but over the weekend things got much worse. Thankfully the ones on my inner thighs are gone. Now things have moved to my arms and the backs of my legs. The underside of my arms are now so raw from itching that I can't itch them because it hurts too much. The hives don't go away completely now (although they are always better during the early part of the day) and they are WAY to numerous to even begin to count. I'm miserable. I've been the the bathroom twice at work today to take my clothes off and scratch. Right now I've taken off my suit jacket and am sitting at my desk with my winter coat over my shoulders (to keep me warm) while I scratch my right hive-covered bicep.

I went to the pharmacy this morning and pleaded with the pharmacist. She suggested Lanacan (which worked long enough for me to declare her a genius and then stopped). She also suggested I take Benedryl on top of the 24 hr. Antihistime (which might as well be Vitamin C) I'm already taking.

I just called the allergist I was referred to (for April 26th!) to plead. I now have an appointment for March 21st (not all that much better). I might have clawed myself to death before then.

On an equally whiny note - last weekend was Maya's first out-of-town hockey tournament. I'm so NOT a hockey Mom. I'm too uptight. By the end of the weekend I was so tired of the other hockey parents - no problem at all with the kids. In line with my last post about social laziness. I've decided that maybe I'm just an introvert in an extrovert's body.

The first game was a 2 pm in the afternoon. We lost spectacularly which meant we played again at 8:00 the next morning. We all went to check into the hotel. Party floor was the 2nd floor. I was ecstatic when we were given a room on the 4th floor. Manager Mom -- also on the 4th floor -- was devestated. The parents decided their children should swim, run around the hotel like wild animals and eat dinner at 7:00 pm. I decided my children should eat dinner at 5:00 pm; have a swim; shower and then go to bed (ummmmm.... need to be at the rink -- a half hour drive from the hotel -- 7:00 am people!). Daniel was not there. He had class that afternoon and took the train out to join us later that night.

At 9 pm wild children were running screaming through the halls. My children were in bed at 7:30. They thought I was evil.

The next day they lost their game -- spectacularly -- which meant they didn't play again until Sunday morning at 9:00 am. So here we are - back at the hotel at 10:00 pm; the entire day in front of us; in a small, nothing-to-do-at-ALL town. Well then let's let the kids run screaming through the halls all day - the hell with the other patrons of the hotel (if I had a nickel for everyone who said to me they should know what to expect with a hockey tournament going-on). Am I wrong for thinking this was the wrong attititude?

We took the kids to the mall for something to do. The mall was pathetic. We took Sam to get his haircut at Walmart. We ate lunch and then went back to the hotel and napped - until a small child screaming at the top of his lungs outside our bedroom door woke the whole family up. Kamryn begged to run with the wild children. After a half hour of begging I gave in. I had rules - no running, no screaming and no using the elevator. She's good at following rules. I was confident.

After dinner with the hockey parents and progeny the children recommenced terrorizing the hotel patrons. At this point I went and found a ballroom and asked permission to allow them to play in there (with me supervising) from reluctant but desperate hotel management. Seemed like such a better strategy then telling people paying a good amount for their room to suck it up.

The parents were all right but by Sunday at 4:00 pm after losing our last game (they won the one first thing in the morning) I'd really had it with hanging with them. I definitely had different ideas and it was exhausting biting my tongue and smiling. Ugh! How will I survive years of this?

Kamryn... she had a blast.

Socially Inept

I am so socially lazy, I wonder if here is something wrong with me. I like being with people. I like people in generally. I'm reasonably affable (if overly talkative) although I find it a little stressful. I think one of the reasons I am so talkative is I feel a responsibility to keep the conversation going. That can be a tall order. I hate small talk. I don't want to chat about the weather or how x team is doing this year. I don't like to talk politics with people who don't have advanced degrees in political science (I'm not a snob but political discussion can be infuriating at the best of times throw in a few people with a lack of basic understanding on how government functions and I want to pull my hair out). I cringe whenever I answer the phone and its my mother-in-law because the only thing she feels she can talk to me about is the weather. She still ends with a question about whether Daniel is at work - ummm... he hasn't held a job in two years. So ya... our conversations go nowhere and yes that stresses me out. Not that I want them to go anywhere (I don't like her and I don't think she approves of me. Daniel says I should get over it - that she doesn't approve of anyone) I would just prefer not to talk to her at all.

Anyway, on Saturday some bizarre possession came over my body and I invited Manager Mom and family (technically the invite was issued to the children) to come over and skate with Sam and Kamryn after school (we have a rink in the park behind our home). Then on Sunday I extended this invitation to include dinner. So this afternoon they are all coming over. The kids are over the moon excited; I'm just dreading it. I'm already thinking ahead to 8 pm when they will have gone home. (I just flashed on my first meeting with Daniel - I had similar thoughts. All I had to do was drink a cup of coffee and then I could go and it would be over lol).

This is why I'm so terrible at making friends. I honestly would be happier tonight sitting home alone watching American Idol than entertaining people I know and LIKE. I don't know how I got like this. Was I always like this? Makes no sense.

So I had my little weather mocking post ...

And the weather punished me for it. It stomped on me but good and then said how's that. The day following my last post the ambient air temp was - 26 C (Sorry I have no idea what it was in F and I'm too lazy to look - the scales comes together around that point anyway so probably about the same). The windchill easily dropped the temperature into the mid - 30s. It was unbelievably cold. The next day was almost as bad and then it seemed to improve markedly. This morning I was almost toasty waiting for the bus. I just checked the temps today. Right now it's - 10C (14 F) with a windchill of -18C (0F). Decidedly untoasty. Everything however is relative.

On that note Kamryn played her first (and hopefully last) two games as goalie this weekend. One win, one last GAA (goals against average) = 4.0. She was precious. She was crappy. But she had fun and had no idea that she was crappy. I didn't tell her. I was so proud of her for trying. After the game that they lost she confided that she felt that her team just wasn't playing all that hard. Her Dad and I informed her that as a goalie who let four goals in she shouldn't be criticizing the rest of her team. We were cracking up inside and we relayed this advice. What a funny kid.

During the first game she let a goal in while trying to "get ready" (the stick is bigger than she is so getting ready can be a drawn out process) and one of the boys (or normal goalie) yelled at her. She told me she was very sad and cried a little. I could tell from the bench. I felt so helpless but didn't think the referees would allow me on the ice to go and hug the goalie. One of the other boys on the team hugged her for me (golly they can be sweet). I'm glad her stint as goalie is over though I missed having her on the bench with me.

They have got to be kidding.

Now that the threat has passed for H1N1 and the hype has completely died down the province of Ontario is in full swing with its campaign to encourage people to get vaccinated. hmmm.... Lovely use of my tax dollars.

Parts of the campaign really make you wonder though. They have these giant 7 foot long posters on the bus. In fact they have two side by side (one in friench and one in english). The poster has a catch phrase written reasonably small - "you call the shot" next to a 6 and a half foot long picture of a syringe. Ummmm.... you want to encourge me to get a shot right? How do you think you're going to do that with the 6 1/2 foot long giant needle?

Brilliant campaign.

Winter Without Snow Sucks

I left the house this morning to catch the bus for work at 6:30 am. It was DARK. Like middle of the night dark and as I stepped onto the front doorstep I steeled myself -- as you do in the frozen North -- for the cold blast of air that I expected to greet me. I hadn't worn a hat - out of pride not practicality. All my muscles were tensed up but as the breeze ruffled my hair I realized it wasn't all that cold a breeze. I tenatively relaxed and realized it was realtively balmy out (- 6 C). It's January gosh darn it. It's supposed to be frigid (I won't be disappointed tomorrow I'm sure as a cold snap and - 21 temps are forcast for overnight) and its supposed to be snowy. Altogether this winter has been far too mild with WAY too little snow. The snow we do have on the ground (about two feet) is dirty and unattractive. It's icy and not good for playing in. It's boring.

About a month a go I whined on facebook about the fact that it wouldn't stop snowing so I guess there is no pleasing me. Then again that wasn't fun snow. It was annoying 5 cm a day snow. There is no fun in that - although it does keep it looking pretty. I'm mostly annoyed because we haven't had ANY good storms. We had a so-so storm in December sometime - maybe 20 cm of snow. THIS IS NOT WINTER!!!!

I want a real storm. I want a "everything is cancelled" stay home and drink caoco and hope the power doesn't go off storm. I want to have trouble getting out of my driveway. I want to worry about the snowdrifts being too high against the kids' bedroom winters. I want to HAVE to leave work early because the driving is bad (and somehoe leaving early will make it better lol). We can normally count on three to five of these a winter. This winter we have had ONE and it wasn't all that bad.

Harumph... I wasn't cut out for boring ho-hum winters.

Between the Pipes

Kamryn has been given the opportunity to play goalie in her next two hockey games. She's had the equipment for the past two weeks so that she can practice. Goal tending is much harder than it looks and it looks pretty hard to me - for starters the pads weigh just about as much as she does. I was hoping that she would not want to try goalie - I don't know how I will survive watching the game. But we always said we'd support the kids in anything they wanted to try (within reason).

Anyway, the weather was pretty perfect this weekend and she had the opportunity to get out on the hockey rink just behind our home to practice a few times. Her brother took her on in goal - much to his delight and her consternation.

The shape of things to come

Yesterday I bought Kamryn a pair of jeans from the Gap. Size 7, slim. Ordinarily I would have looked at the size and cursed the ordinariness of my daughter (who I didn't believe belonged in slim anything) but they were on sale for a ridiculously low price. I thought, "just maybe ..." and then double checked to make sure I could still return them even though they had been marked down so much they were practically free.

Numerous persons in the past have referred to Kamryn as petite. I always smile politiely while privately thinking that the person must be deluded. Now I know my kid isn't huge but she is well proportioned and has never been what I would call skinny. But everything is relative. Last week (and again yesterday) I took her to swimming lessons. Wow. Kamryn is skinny. She's petite. She's downright emaciated compared to most of the little girls I saw wandering around the pool. Fully clothed I probably wouldn't have noticed much of a difference but in a swimming suit I was stunned at all the toddler bellies that hadn't gone away. At the soft tummies and the plump little legs. None Most of these kids weren't what I would consider overweight but I did come to realize what "not skinny" means. It was kind of depressing. I have roll near the bottom of my ribcage when I slouch. I don't think it's all that noticeable but it bothers me (obviously not enough for me to do anything about it). I was looking at one little girl with similar substantially more obvious rolls and it made me feel REALLY bad for her. Maybe she has a healthy self image and it doesn't bother her at all but I can't believe that. AT 41, I shrug these things off - I'm getting old so who really cares. But at 7 or 8?

Anyway, the size 7 slim jeans fit well (as long as I cinched the elastic inside the waistband to make them smaller. I'm convinced. Kamryn is most definitely petite. Everything being relative.

Who knew there would be so much politics?

LIke c'mon people it's seven year olds playing hockey here!

Kamryn had a skating development class last night. Two other children from her hockey team are also signed up for this class. Their mothers are respectively the team's manager and treasurer and I'm the team trainer. The other ladies are pretty nice. I like them and have enjoyed chatting with them and hanging out over the course of the season. I think I've mentioned here that I'm lousy at making/maintaining friendships. I thought I wasn't doing to badly here. I looked forward to these classes because it meant I could hang with these women which I can't during games because I need to be on the bench.

Last night I went happily and blissfully off to the class. Manager Mom chats with me for a few minutes; muses that Treasurer Mom isn't there and then announces she needs a beer. She asks me if I'm coming up to the bar (it overlooks the rink). I told her I needed to wait for Daniel who was suiting Kamryn up in the dressing room and that I would follow. Lordy - we should have stayed in the arena.

It seems Manager Mom has gone to war with our Head Coach (who seems to be breaking rules left right and centre but I'm only getting one side of the story). She wanted to talk and politely (and as a friend) I needed to listen. It's all over the financial report and who's job it is to release it to the parents (the Manager's) and why it isn't being released (some funny business by the coach?). Manager Mom is VERY angry. And just like an arguement with a romantic partner its not just the infraction at hand that is being called into question but EVERY little thing the Coach has ever done. She is contemplating quitting vs. being a thorn in the coach's side. She relays that her son is already being treated unfairly by the coach and she is worried about this escallating. She is frends the the vice-president of the league. Coach is complaining to the vice-president of the league. ACK!

I'm a little (ridiculously little) torn between protecting my own child - by distancing myself from now poisoned manager and standing by a new friend. Of course I will stand by my new friend but it seems a ridiculous position to be in. We're talking little kids playing sports at the lowest level there is here. How it got to this level of animosity is beyond me. The challenge last night was to be supportive but not to get drawn in to all the drama (she asked me to send some pointed e-mails and I told her I wasn't brave enough).

It's going to make the next few months a little tense which is really unfortunate because I really like all the team parents but I can see a split developing already. Yikes.

The coach is a little chauvanistic (he didn't want me to be trainer but in the end didn't have a choice for various reasons). The other coaches - 3 men are quite close and chummy. Then there is another pocket - Manager and Treasurer Moms and a few others (not many) who are hockey parents "in-the-know" who are also quite chummy and who I gravitated to (although I also sometimes hang with the clueless parents because I want to be friendly) because I wanted to know too and it was obvious that the Coach-Dads didn't want/need to explain hockey to me. Then we have a whole group of really nice happily-clueless parents who are also quite nice but so clueless that they ask me questions as if *I* should know the answers. Bahahahahahahaha. That's how things divide. I expect the clueless parents will remain that way but that in-the-know group will become increasingly angry and hostile (if Manager Mom keeps talking) and the Coach Dad group is going to close ranks.

As central as the Head Coach is to this, it will affect the kids on the ice. Coach Dad has already been called on not giving some children fair ice time. He responded appropriately but petulantly (i.e. he gave all the weaker players prominant positions in last week's game and put all our goal scorers on defence rather than mix it up a little so that the team wasn't entirely lopsided. It was kind of a "so there." We still won.)

I'm stunned. I really am.

I just wanted to help her with her spelling

I bought Kamryn a dictionary yesterday - a Petit Larousse (children's version) which is a children's dictionary with attitude if there ever was one. It's kind of a cross between and encyclopedia and a dictionary and it is HEAVY. If nothing else she will develop good biceps because she has taken to carrying it around with her everywhere. Ever so often she offers up with total wonder some useless tidbit of information that she has gleamed from its pages.

Makes me smile.

He's so innocent

So Sam got in trouble for smacking other children with his hat on the school bus yesterday afternoon. Pretty normal kid stuff and while mildly annoyed I wasn't really angry but I gave him a talking to (and took away his favorite hat - I guess he still does have stuff to lose). I started off by saying that he was perfectly capable of behaving because he was a smart boy who knew right from wrong. He asked me why I said he was smart...

Made my heart tremble a little.

Sigh.

Our little athlete and our constant worry. Sigh. He's so good at sports. Golden at anything he tries. He's scary smart - it's not like he's reading or starting to do algebra or anything like that its just his thought processes aren't that of the average 5 year old. He strategizes. He contemplates things you wouldn't think a 5 year old would notice. It REALLY helps him in team sports. When he wants to he has amazing recall. He notices things and stores them away. It's hard to describe and I probably sound like some clueless mom but I swear I'm not the only one who has commented on it. He's enthusiastic about everything. Desperate to impress. He thinks he's the funniest guy on the planet.

Then there is the little boy who threw a chair at his teacher last week. Sigh. Who took his school agenda, found what he thought was the daily entry his teacher makes about his behavior (happy or sad faces morning and afternoon to single to us how the day went), erased what his teacher had written and drew in happy faces. He explained -- to justify the fact that the faces looked different than normal -- that he played a "joke" and "decorated" them. He was VERY proud of his work and eager to show us. Unfortunately for him he performed his handiwork on the wrong month (he can't read). Sigh. He's eager to please (in this case he was eager not to get into big trouble as he'd been warned to improve his behavior at school following the chair incident) but not so eager as to actually put any effort in. Sigh. The little boy who visits the school principal on a regular basis. Who is one more incident away from being kicked off the school bus. Who stole half the Halloween candy (that was already being generously shared) - gorged on it and tried to hide the evidence.

He is perfectly capable of behaving. He knows what is acceptable and what isn't. If you bribe him outright he can be an angel but the bribe has to interest him and it can't be long term. i.e. behave in school today and you can go to MacDonald's - he'll do fine. Behave all week and you can go to MacDonald's not a chance. Behave and you'll get a sticker... bahahahahahaha. We obvious can't live with bribes. Threats work but the threat has to be BIG. Right now he has almost nothing left. He's lost TV/video games. He lost his leapster. He lost his MP3 player. He lost a coveted school trip. There isn't much left to take away. I've left his sporting activities alone because I'm desperately hoping his love of sport will "save" him from becoming a juvenile delinquent. Seriously.

He doesn't seem to care all that much and its a big annoyance to the rest of the family (especially Kamryn). Spankings... well I'd be spanking him hourly so not so effective either. Sending him to his room is the one thing that is super effective (he HATES being alone) but I worry about the message that sends - "we don't want you around?" And again its hard on the rest of the family (especially Kamryn).

I used to think he had ADHD. Not so much anymore. He's doing too well academically. His teacher comments that he does fine with the structured part of the day - she thinks his behavior will improve markedly in Grade 1 where there is less freedom. I worry about other things though. My current fear is that he has ODD. The list of behaviors associated with ODD fits very well. The prognosis though is scarey - a large percentage of people with ODD become substance abusers - hmmmm... like his birthmother, birthfather, and a large percentage of his birthfamily? Then again I wonder if ODD is a real disorder (it's in the DSRM) or just an excuse for badly parented/socialized children.

We've got a call into our doctor to talk about things again (last year she told us to come back in a year) but I know that no answers will be forthcoming for maybe another year (with referrals and evaluations etc. etc.) I REALLY want to talk to a psychiatrist - someone who knows what they are talking about. In the meantime I worry.

I worry about him becoming a bully - he's big, physical and smart enough that he easily manipulates other children. I worry about his increasingly complex bad behavior. I worry about his lying. I worry about our relationship. Mostly I worry about his self-esteem. When you're in trouble ALL THE TIME (and I let the little things go, I really do) - how do you develop a good sense of self. Sigh.

Yes please I want to stand in the way of pucks travelling at high velocity.

Kamryn is trying out the goalie position on her hockey team. She got the equipment last Friday and so far has had the opportunity to practice once on her own and once with her team. Due to a fluke in scheduling she will have a few more opportunities to practice before she actually has to deliver the goods. I don't know how I'll be able to handle her in an actually game (I might not live through it). She is having a lot of fun though and looking forward to a game. I was watching her tiny form in nets at practice on Sunday as her coaches loomed large all around her and got one of those "mommy-twinges." I was so proud of her and at the same time I wanted to rush onto the ice and scoop her up.

Today I checked the team stats of the the team she will play against on January 30th (her first and hopefully last game between the pipes) to make sure they weren't too good a team. They aren't all that strong. I hope they have a particularly bad day.

A new school term - yay!

Sometimes I write posts that I don’t feel comfortable posting because they reveal the personal imperfections of my life. That life isn’t always roses and chocolates and that as much as I love him sometimes I want to brain my spouse with the nearest lamp. Things always sound harsher when written out. When I’m feeling vulnerable I just can’t put a post up like that and often I accomplish the mental exercise that blogging is for me by writing these posts and not posting them. Today I’ve written one of those posts and I will post it because I feel comfortable letting people know my life and my marriage isn’t perfect. I think I feel comfortable posting it because as imperfect as it is, I know it’s all right and that things are really fine.

Daniel started back to school yesterday. I thought I was dreading it. Last term seemed awful. For me, it was lonely and exhausting. I never saw him. I juggled almost all the kid and household responsibilities on my own. I felt like a shrew and a nag every time I had to ask him to do something that he should have been doing without prompting. I felt like I had three children. I only wanted two. The worst part was I don’t think he noticed what the rest of his family was enduring; he was too caught up in his own private hell.

Admittedly I’ve put A LOT of pressure on him. I didn’t agree with his decision to go back to school (for numerous good reasons) and in the middle of a nasty argument I told him so (I had kept that nugget bottled up for far to long as a result it could have been handled MUCH better). My parting words of “support” were something along the lines of “if you’re going to do this don’t screw it up… again (his extensive history with education – this is the 5th time he’s been to college - is less than stellar).”

Daniel isn’t a good student – although he did very well last term. He’s smart enough but he procrastinates terribly and he plans badly (when he plans at all). He’s up until 3 am every morning studying but then he spends what alone time he does have at home (golden time in my humble opinion) sleeping because he was up all night studying – duh! He has a bizarre moral code (i.e. they are allowed a “cheat” sheet for an exam but he doesn’t think its fair so he doesn’t prepare one? What’s that all about?). As an example of his planning skills – each week last term he had a test to complete before midnight on Sundays. So when would he start that test? 9 or 10 o’clock Sunday night at the very earliest; then he had to prep for his lab the next day. I have no idea what time he’d get to bed but never before 2 am. He had to be at school on Monday mornings for 8 which meant leaving the house no later that 5:45. It hurts my body to even think about. I don’t get it.

Yes, I was a procrastinator as a student to so maybe I shouldn’t be calling the kettle black but I also had no other responsibilities. I could afford to just do whatever I wanted. Who cared if I slept until noon and went to bed at 4 am? I don’t think Daniel can afford to follow these habits – I don’t think he realizes this… still… even after having completed an entire term. But he passed his classes last term and after my oh so helpful counsel last summer I’ve said VERY little about how he is choosing to go about this. It’s not my money (he has a job training grant that covers his tuition and books) and he’s a grown adult.

Still I have a demanding job. I’m doing that job as a single parent and I can get a little resentful. This term Daniel gets home after 7 pm a minimum of three nights a week (he rarely starts before noon). I’m almost positive that will slide to 4 nights a week with the odd 5th night where he NEEDS to go back to campus for x. I’ll pick the kids up from my parents’ house after work; feed them dinner; get piano practice, swimming lessons, homework, and/or hockey practice taken care of. I’ll do the bedtime routine. I’ll read stories. I’ll take care of all the forms and notes they bring home from school. I’ll organize lunch boxes. I’ll collapse into bed and then I’ll hear the rattle of the front door being opened. Last term it was mind numbing.

But last night, I picked the kids up; grabbed some almond guy ding and rice for dinner from the local Chinese take-out place. Fed the kids. Got homework and piano practice done and was washing the dishes when Daniel arrived home “early” at about 7:00 pm. I wasn’t expecting him. I was happy to see him but kind of disappointed because I was “in the zone.” Things were under control. I had developed a rhythm and I was content. I had a plan. Kid’s to bed – me to bed with a little TV. Ummm…. easier without him around? Yikes. Anyway it was the first time all day when I hadn’t dreaded the coming 16 weeks. Hmmmm…

My parents – my support last term, are leaving for 6 weeks in the Caribbean. They are our only source of childcare. The kids take the school bus to their house afterschool. I will need to shift my hours on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays to be home to meet the school bus. I’m hoping it stays quiet enough at work to make this doable. I will try to work 7:30 am – 300 pm and I have a very lovely blackberry (as my boss reminded me; yuck!). The 7:30 start will be hard to adjust to (means leaving home at 6:30 am in the cold dark dead of winter) but I’m looking forward to ALL that extra time in the afternoon. I’m looking forward to being home at 4:00 pm and cooking dinner and handling piano and homework in a normal and relaxed way.

Daniel’s class schedule means that my one night to myself a week – practice with our community concert band – may have to be sacrificed because we don’t have any other childcare. I’m not sure I mind. While, I enjoy those outings (and think they are good for me) after a long day at work it is always an effort to go. Still I might just go a little late each week (so that I put the kids to bed before leaving the house) and hire the twins across the street to watch the kids for a few hours.

I’ve planned for this term. I’ve planned to handle things on my own. I’ve planned to fill my own time with my own activities. I’ve planned not to rely on my husband for anything. I take incredible amounts of comfort in planning and after all that planning I guess there isn’t much to dread.

To a non-stressful year!

Happy New Year one and all! I had decided not to make any resolutions this year but changed my mind on New Year's eve. I had a revelation over the holidays that will hopefully make 2010 a less stressful year than 2009. It started with me being angry with my husband. Actually it started with PMS. I'm awful crabby around that time of the month. I know the cause but surprisingly that doesn't dampen my irrational anger any.

Christmas was kind of a downer this year. My Dad was upset that my aunt was alone in the hospital (although we did visit her for a couple of hours that afternoon). When Dad isn't happy if really takes the air out of the room. To make matters worse, Maya was sick with stomach flu. Nevertheless, I tried. I tried HARD. I made brunch for 12. I made dinner for 8. I planned for days. I shopped. I prepared. I cooked. It didn't change the mood. People ate... reluctantly. No one seemed to care. In the middle of dinner Maya (who was mercifully in her room at the time rather than at the table; luckily I was at her side to "help.") threw up everywhere. Daniel helped clean up and thereafter claimed he had lost his appetite and had no interest in the meal I had spent two days preparing. Thanks honey!

How does this impact my New Year's Resolution you ask? Well by New Year's Eve, all PMSy and having stewed over the endless leftovers for a week (if you cook for eight and only four eat there are LOTS left over) I had decided that no one really cares. I put a lot of pressure on myself to please. Things "should" be a specific way. I'm not sure others notice all that much. And if that's the case; why am a digging and early grave with effort and worry?

As an example, for Christmas dinner this year I took a Bartlet pear, sliced it into thin pieces, seasoned them and layered them between wax paper in the oven to bake them. Then I had to separate them from the flipping wax paper - not easy I was making a garnish for the cauliflower soup I served as a first course. It was delicious. The pears were great. Daniel pointed out that the soup would have been fine without them. Thanks honey! He's right; the soup was better with them (it was delicious) but no one would have noticed (save me) if I didn't make them.

The only one to notice (or compliment my hard work) throughout the holiday was little Sam (who probably had ulterior motives) and pronounced on the suppers I put together out of leftover one evening as "the best meal he's ever tasted." It was leftovers (hot turkey sandwiches with frozen corn on the side and packaged gravy). So ya, who needs Bartlett pear chips when there is boil in a bag corn?

My New Year's resolution: less is more. I'm just going to be lazy this year. Think more about what will be most expedient rather than what will be most spectacular. What will keep me sane and happy rather than what "should" be done. Its going to be more about me and I have to be less about perfection.


Its a sad resolution because I feel I'm giving up a little of what makes me me to follow it but I'm hoping that in the end it will leave me happier. By the end of 2009 I was frazzled. Hopefully by the end of 2010 I'll just be happy.

I'm little too.

Kamryn and I were driving to the rink this morning. Her hockey team managed to lose the last two games of their tournament. Because of that we were reliant on another team beating the team we were tied in last place with for us to advance in the tournament (They tied. We hung up our skates for the week). So we were returning to the rink after taking a cranky Daniel home (don't know who pissed in his cornflakes this morning but I wasn't into coddling a sulking 47 year old!)

Anyway, Kamryn says to me: "So are we going back to the rink to watch the little kids play?"

I laughed and said the kids weren't little, they were the same size she was.

She responds, "I know, I'm little too."

So true. She melted my heart.

Bothered

Okay this shouldn't bother me but it does... terribly. A parcel from Sam's grandmother arrived in the mail last week full of Christmas presents. There were four or five wrapped presents inside. One for Daniel and I and the rest for Sam. Nothing for Kamryn. Sam's grandmother knows Kamryn; and has just as much contact with her as she does with Sam. Sure she has no investment in her but... really? She's a seven year old girl for crisssakes. Kamryn is always excited when Nana calls (and Nana has no interest in talking with her). When she saw all the packages she was equally excited. I subtely kept her away and she has no ida that none are for her but I felt so bad for her. Would it have been that much of a stretch to throw something small in for her?

Daniel and I certainly don't need another box of chocolates (her standard Christmas gift for us) so she could have used that money. Why send something for us and ignore Kamryn?

Okay - now Kamryn's birthparents won't send anything for Sam and that doesn't bother me as much. Our relationship is much more arm's length. They don't really know Sam. Kamryn's birthdad has met him once. Oh and they aren't sending boxes and boxes of presents either. They send one gift and normally a gift card for restaurant that we use as a family.

Maybe it bothers me because traditionally Sam's grandmother has included something small for Kamryn and this time there was nothing (I don't think its an oversight; more the culmination of a trend I've been noticing). She always sends a card for Sam as well that ignores Kamryn. Maybe it bother me because Kamryn asks for very little and Sam is very "all about me","what have you given me lately", "what are you giving me next" (drives me a little batty and I don't know how to discourage this sense of entitlement he has.)

I just don't get how you can send anything for one child in a family and completely ignore the other one. I'm annoyed. I don't want to be annoyed over Christmas.

So Tired

We're at the end (I hope) of the busiest period I have experienced at work in 14 years. I've done 40 hours of overtime in the last 10 days. I've worked weekends and nights. Last night I left the office just shy of midnight. I can no longer put coherent thought together.

There is a parlimentary scandal afoot and my Minister is right in the middle of it. The workload would kill a donkey. One more day - parliament breaks for Christmas on Friday.

Our house remains sadly undecorated for Christmas and somewhat messy. Daniel is preparing for exams and not much help although he has had to step it up because I just wasn't there. Not a bad lesson for him as I was feeling a little (scratch that) A LOT like a single parent. Yesterday he took the day off school because we had a snow storm and the kids had to be driven to and from school and I had too much work to leave to collect them (as I had planned to do). He managed to get the tree assembled (not decorated mind you just assembled). Maybe this weekend I will have time to clean and decorate.

Oh and I have a cold. Go figure.

Uncle!

On a more family oriented note...

Sam was not in my good graces this weekend. I was so disappointed in him. The kids Halloween candy has been sitting in a bag in the corner of the kitchen since Halloween. I have not been stingy with it and was actually starting to question my parenting in letting them gorge themselves on candy ad infinitum. But I figured what the heck they are only young once. The rule has ALWAYS been that they ask before they take and no, my answer wasn't always "go ahead."

Friday while preparing dinner (back to the candy) I heard a distinct rustle of candy wrapper and turned just to see Sam hightailing it down the hall as quick as his little feet would carry him. I called him back and demanded to know what was in his hand.

"Nothing," he countered.

So I asked again. On the third try my little candy pilferer revealed the bag of nibs hidden behind his back. He got a time-out - for lying. For taking the candy (which was community property!!) without asking I told him that the remaining candy was now ceded to Kamryn. I gathered it up at this point and put it where only the Mom can get at it. There was much crying and carrying on and begging for forgiveness (always is with Sam). I was mad but thought the incident was done with until bedtime when Kamryn informed me there was "something orange all over the light switch in the bathroom." Sam is a really cute kid. A master criminal - not so much. The orange stuff was quite obvious to me Doritos dust (he LOVES Doritos). He was already in bed. I went in and asked him if he'd had any other candy without asking. He swore to me up and down that he had not. I warned him that if he lied to me again the would not get to attend the birthday party he was invited to the next day. He was very earnest and believable. I didn't believe him ... quite. It also crossed my mind that he might be innocent and I felt a little guilty as I really laid into him. I looked in the trash in his room - did a cursory check and left. Guilt over accusing my innocent little moppet growing ever stronger. Then I went into the bathroom to clean up the orange dust.

Cue dramatic music...

There was a washcloth on the counter just covered in orange chip yuck (I do not share Sam's love of Doritos).

Hmmmm....

When I went to toss the paper towel I had grabbed to wipe down the wall I noticed a carefully arranged kleenex covering the top of the trash. Now my kids can barely get a kleenex in the trash on the best of days. This one was laid out as if the trash was cold and needed to be tucked in. I lifted the kleenex and the trash was FULL of empty candy wrappers. Oh rockets went off! I was soooooo very mad and so very disappointed in him.

Yes, he lost the party. I felt it was a harsh punishment (at times, at times not so much) but I had already promised it (note to self: must refine interviewing techniques) and I didn't feel that I should go back on my promise. And he got to spend a delightful Saturday with me at all times. He was either holding my hand or holding on to my clothing if my hands were busy. If I was working in the kitchen he was sitting in the corner watching. He learned (I hope) that if I can't trust him he will have no freedom whatsoever. We went out for dinner as a family and he sat and watched the three of us eat the complimentary chips before dinner. He had none. He lost TV for the weekend. On Sunday we visited the little boy who's party he had missed to deliver the birthday present and apologize. He pranced out of party-boy's house delighted to have received a grab bag - and was shocked and horribly upset when I grabbed it. We dropped him off with his grandparents for the evening (so I could get to my interview nice and early this morning) and he thought he would get sympathy there. Oh did he misread his grandparents. Not a pleasant weekend for any of us.

I so hope he learned something from all this. Sadly, I'm thinking not.

The big comment EVERY ONE makes about Sam is his inability to accept responsibility for his actions. He just doesn't get it. It's always someone else's fault. Someone always hates him (I took his grab bag because I don't like him anymore - not because he was being punished for lying and stealing). It's never fair. Sigh.

I am a little worried.

So that didn't go particularly well...

Had my interview this morning. It was a stressful experience. I bombed at least one question big-time. I just didn't have the information at hand to readily answer the question. I knew before the interview that I was in trouble.

I arrived, as requested, an hour early and was given the 6 questions that I needed to answer. I then had 45 minutes (and 6 blank sheets of paper on which to take notes) with whatever material I had brought with me to answer the questions. The key point being whatever material I had brought with me. I can't get into details about the question(s) I couldn't handle because the competition is on-going but I just didn't have what I needed to compose a reasonable answer(s).

Mercifully, the hour went quickly and it's over and I won't have to do it again for another two years or so. Regrettably, there will likely be no raise for me. Ah well. Next time.

I'm not particularly sad about (although I thank everyone for their good wishes) it but that might be because my sub-conscious is still holding out a glimmer of hope. I won't know officially for some weeks but my gut says no-go.

Too Much Stuff

So the kids wear uniforms to school. As a boy, Sam's wardrobe in that respect is pretty simple. Kamryn's though - makes my eyes roll. The girls have such options - dresses, skits, skorts, shorts, pants, blouses, t-shirts, golf shirts, long-sleeved, short sleeved, fitted, not fitted. Ugh!

Anyway, we order new uniforms for the fall in the spring. Kamryn grew MUCH more slowly than I anticipated over the summer (much slower than her doctor was pleased with as well something that continues to be a battle - the kid doesn't eat!) and the benefit was that all of her things from last year fit just fine so I took most of the new things that I had bought in the spring and placed them at the back of her drawer because she didn't need them. I promptly forget all about their existence.

Last week, I looked at the shirt she was wearing (a long-sleeved golf shirt) and thought that's looking really small. She most definitely needs a new one. Never thought for a moment about the things I'd put away. There is a uniform sale on the 23rd. Yesterday I checked out the uniform suppliers website - dismayed to discover that the new shirts she needs are $25 a pop. Ugh! I thought and prepared to pull out the credit card. Then last night when putting away her laundry I saw these shiney bags at the back of her drawer... Yup three brand-new golf shirts.

Too much stuff!

I need to write something happy.

Kamryn served her first penalty as a bona fide hockey player on Saturday. Why is that happy you might ask. Well, first off, it was because it was so darn cute - she was so innocent and confused. Secondly, because she didn't do anything wrong.

At the adult level it was nasty and a little infuriating. The egos of men ... sigh. What happened was our coach called for a line change. He's really bad at timing these and the kids are really bad at executing them. So all of a sudden we've got 11 players on the ice. All of them moving in slow uncomprehending motion.

The ref says, "you have to many men on the ice; I'm going to have to blow the whistle."

Our assistant coach growls, "well blow it then."

The ref stares him down and blows it. Then he arbitrarily picks a kid - Kamryn - to serve the "2 minute"*** penalty. He knew I was her mother and as he ushered he off the ice he mentioned to me that he just happened to grab her.

The other parents on the team were a little dumbstruck at Kamryn (the least aggressive player on the entire team) - one of them called her "little Kamryn" - in the penalty box.

I had to spend the rest of the day explaining penalties to "little Kamryn"

*** The kids were only serving 30 seconds of their penalties (yes we had other penalties). I don't know if this is a Novice thing or what. One of the parents told me he didn't think they called penalties for Novice C. Apparently they do.

How to Pack up a Life

My mother just called me to ask if she could put my name down as the a contact for my Aunt when the time comes for them to move her to a long-term care facility from the hospital. My parents will likely be away when a bed becomes available and they need a back-up. This morning the hospital social worker shared with my aunt (who is still and will likely always be 99% non-verbal) that she will not be going back to her life. That when and if she leaves the hospital she will not be going to rehab. That her next move is to that long-term care facility I mentioned. The CAT scan of her brain showed a devestating injury. Half her brain is obliterated. The doctors think she can understand when you speak to her but only to a certain level. They think any attempt at rehabilitation would be futile. It was crushing news for my father who held out such hope. I kind of expected it. I think my experiences with Daniel's Dad helped somewhat. I was sad but resigned to things.

This past weekend we began ripping apart her apartment. Literally. It was an awful, depressing and tearful occasion. The only comforting thought was that we weren't also having to make funeral arrangements. That wasn't all that comforting though. To paw through her treasures. To divide up her life. To discuss who wanted what and what should just go in the trash. To throw away her Christmas lights because we know she won't need them ever again. To look at her running shoes lying in a heap in the corner and know she doesn't need them. I held it together - mostly - until I pulled an apron out of a kitchen drawer that was missing one of the apron strings. It was just so Auntie Eula in a way that I can't really explain to anyone.

My other Aunt was there - hovering things like the Cat in the Hat. I was a little embarassed for her. It wasn't clear whether it was an emotional response or simple greed (unfortunately I think the latter). We took very little: a mahogany photo cube filled with pictures of Kamryn that we gave Auntie Eula for Christmas one year, its centerpiece a picture of my Aunt in happier times holding a cerubic Kamryn; a gorgeous crocheted table cloth that I can remember her making when I was a child; an apron (Aunty was all about aprons)... We don't need anything and it felt wrong to fight over Auntie Eula's things. If my other Aunt wanted something I let her take it (my cousin asked her at one point where she thought she was going to put all the stuff she NEEDED to have).

Aunty Eula's jewelry has already gone missing. Sigh. The apartment is a grand mess and I hope the jewelry just been mislaid. We have until the end of December to empty and clean up the apartment. It will take that long. There's a lot to do. No one is very enthusiastic about doing it.

All Snacks. All the Time.

The Canadian Government hired me to be a defence policy development officer. At present they pay me a decent wage to run the speechwriting section for the Department of National Defence. On the side, I'm sell a veritable cornicopia of treats.

Right now, in the lunch room I have an old paper box filled with packaged popcorn - $2 a bag please. I'm raising money for the concert band I play with.

I also have an in-box filled with chocolate bars - roasted almonds enrobed in creamy caramel. Also $2 - raising money for the Sam's hockey team.

However, that wasn't enough. I just sent out an e-mail to my colleagues encouraging them to lay out $10 for fresh chips and salsa that Kamryn's hockey team is selling in cooperation with a local Tex-Mex place.

Just call me the snack pusher. I feel a little like a grocery magnate.

Is it still survivor's guilt if you haven't survived anything?

Well I guess we got our vaccinations just in time. They announced yesterday that they will be closing all clinics at the end of today because of a shortage of vaccine.

I must admit to being a little embarrassed to have been vaccinated. Before getting the vaccine I told everyone that I wasn't getting vaccinated before my children because that was just wrong (yes my logic is flawed; I never said I was being rational). Truth is I didn't feel like I should be getting the vaccine at all.

Despite my entitlement as someone who easily fits within the profile of high risk, I feel guilty. Like I need to justify it to people. Partially it's because I feel pretty healthy, normal, average even. I look healthy, normal, and average. Before going to the clinic yesterday I felt compelled to search out my old medical alert bracelet. I haven't worn it in years. It embarrasses me (silly I know!). I couldn't find it. I just thought I should have proof for when the nurse asked me if I was in a priority group. I couldn't find it.

I can remember a few years back when for some reason there were priority lists for flu shots (can't remember the circumstances) and one of my doctors looking me in the eye and speaking slowly like I was a moron - "you are a high risk patient." Yes, its difficult for me to understand and accept.

Worse I'm a rule follower. Having to listen to them repeat over and over - if you're not high risk you will not get a shot just pushed my incertitude to new heights. Daniel was my beard - see all my husband isn't getting a shot even though he's here in this empty clinic. We aren't a family of cheats and queue jumpers. We're justified. Nor did I lie about Kamryn. The nurse asked if she was high risk (even though in my head I'd worked out how to lie about this with a straight face) I answered "no" without pausing or reflecting. I did want to scream loudly but she's only 7 years old for criss sakes. I didn't. I think I was honest about Kamryn because I was nervous about my own status.

When I had to answer the question about me, I wanted a follow-on - how are you high-risk? Which group do you fit in to? Can we have your doctor's name and phone number so that we may follow-up with them? Please describe your illness in detail. But there were no questions; just a nod. I wished I'd found my medical alert braclet. I wonder what I did with it? I don't even know for sure why I stopped wearing it.

Once again, I need counselling. I'm way too obsessive for any one's good.

Edited to add that I recognize that most people who get H1N1 have relatively minor illnesses. I'm actually not at all sure that I haven't already had it. I just keep thinking of the children around here that have died and it terrifies me. I was scared for my children and I feel so much better that they got the vaccine.

C'mon people; this is ridiculous

All the panic over getting vaccinated. I went tonight with the two kids. They are still only vaccinating "high risk" patients. I'm considered high risk as is Sam. Kamryn is not. I brought her anyway because they claimed they would not turn away school age children (who are it seems considered high risk if I drive 45 minutes away). Daniel came with us but didn't get the vaccine because he isn't high risk and didn't want to take the vaccine from people who needed it.

Last Friday public health released a statement that they thought they were done with all the high risk patients in our area but couldn't release to the general public until they got permission from the provincial government.

Tonight we arrived for our vaccine. There were 5 people in front of us in line. I stalled because I had put numbing cream on the children's arms about a half hour before we got there and it needed to be on for an hour for it to take full effect. The room was PACKED... with public health nurses and security guards. Barely anyone was there to get a shot. Just a bunch of clinic staff (about 40 people) sitting around doing pretty much nothing. Ummm... come on! First there were horrendous lines and awful stories about people waiting 6 hours to get vaccinated and then being turned away and now while there are still millions left who want a vaccine, while vaccine is still available (although speculation is they will run out next week) the clinics sit empty.

I'm beyond incensed.

Sick? Or Maybe not.

Kamryn had a runny nose all weekend. She had hockey practice at 7 am Sunday morning - so an early (6 am) start to the day. Last night right before dinner she came to me all teary-eyed (I suspect Daniel yelled at her over something she shouldn't have been doing) to complain about being tired. I chalked it up to getting up at 6 am to go and play hockey but Mommy - instinct made me take her temperature before putting her to bed at 7:30 pm. 99.5F. Now I don't count that as a fever. If I did Kamryn would never leave the house because she runs a low-grade temp if she skins her knee. Yes, her system is that sensitive.

Still I figured it was the start of something and that there would be no school (or work!) today. This was good because it meant I could conceivably spend the day studying and bad because I'm saving my "family days" (we get 5 a year) to use for when the kids get H1N1 (I don't want to have to use vacation time). Anyway, resigned: I didn't make lunches; I didn't plan my wardrobe; and I didn't prepare the myriad of letters and folders and notes that have to be signed and sent back to school on Monday mornings.

You guessed it. Kamryn flounced into my room happy as a clam this morning. Fully dressed and raring to go. When I went to take her temp (99.1F) she informed me that last night she was "just tired." Her nose is still running like faucet but she insists she feels fine.

So I sent her to school but I've watched the phone all morning for "other developments." It's almost noon though and neither my office phone nor my blackberry which I keep staring at has rung so that's good news.
It's always hard with Kamryn because she NEVER acts sick. With a temperature of 104F she is always "fine." If she complains then I worry terribly because something is very wrong.

As a rule I ignore any temp under 100 F. My doctor tells me I should throw away the thermometer and just treat symptoms. Unless a child is complaining let the fever do its work she counsels. I can't ignore that 100 though. Because invariably its followed by 101, then 102, then 104 and tepid baths with a screaming child in the middle of the night as I desperately try to get a rising temp under control.

Thing is though - is it fair to ignore those non-fever fevers when it comes to deciding whether to send a child to school or not? I don't want to expose other children but really all she has is a cold. She was acting normal, playing fine and I only took her temperature because I'm obsessive. She missed so much school last year (for much more serious illnesses) and it had an effect. I don't want to start that again this year if I can help it. And as you may have picked up - I'm waiting for H1N1. I'm not being flippant. Our city has been identified as a hot spot. Hoardes of children are absent from the childrens school. No vaccine is in sight for our family. I figure a conservative estimate is a week of missed school per kid. I don't want her to miss school for a minor cold if she needs to use that sick time later in the term.

So she's not sick enough to keep home. I still feel a little guilty having sent her.

Sceened In

I've just been invited to interview for the post I wrote about a few weeks back. Normally there is an arduous 3-hour written knowledge exam for these processes. Not this time. They are going straight to interview. Doesn't mean the interview won't cover knowledge though. So I'm studying - hard.

My immediate supervisor is on the board. Even if I don't win the position; I don't want to look like a moron in front of him. He strongly encouraged me to apply.

Interviews begin late next week. I feel ill.

Mortality

When I was little - maybe 6 or 7 - I told my Aunty Eula that I couldn't wait until I was thirteen because when I was thirteen I wouldn't have to listen to her anymore. What a lovely child I was, eh? She liked to tell that story. Or the time my parents were away on vacation and knowing that my aunt liked to have a wee sip of scotch in the evenings after dinner I went down to Dad's liquor cabinet and hid all the bottles. Wouldn't you have liked to adopt me? She liked to tell people that story too.

My aunt lived with my parents from before I can remember (I'm guessing I must have been around 6) until I was about fifteen. It wasn't easy. She's thirteen years older than Dad. She's not particularly fond of my mother. It must have been hard for two opinionated women to share a household AND in many respects a man. My aunt never married and can be a little needy and is bizarrely naive. She didn't live on her own for the first time until she was almost 70.

She'd gotten good at it though. I've been pretty impressed with her independence over the last couple of decades. At 88 she kept her own apartment, swam everyday, went to church every Sunday and was the person my MUCH younger (by more than a decade) and whinier Aunt looked to when SHE needed to be nursed. We're a long lived family. My grandmother passed just shy of her 98th birthday. Her mother saw her 104th. My father and aunts like to tell me how my great-grandmother was climbing coconut trees at 102. Nevertheless, for awhile now I've been reminding myself that Aunty Eula is 88 and that even with a lot of luck we probably didn't have a lot of time left. I look at Kamryn and realize that Aunty Eula won't be at her wedding. Those thoughts made me sad. Still she was healthy and active and it was easy to push sad thoughts from my mind.

On Saturday morning Aunty Eula had a stroke (brought about by a suddenly bad heart discovered a week earlier). Saturday - with the stroke and her heart problems - things looked truly dire. She got to the hospital in time for clot busting drugs to be administered but things got worse before they got better. There was some paralysis and a loss of speech. My mother advised that I visit. Daniel and I sat with her Sunday for about 2 hours. While the paralysis has subsided encouragingly, she still could not speak at all and swallowing was obviously a problem. She was scared and I felt so awful for her.

I keep thinking of all the things she will never do again. I keep thinking about how sudden and unexpected this was. I wonder how much time she has left with us (her heart problems remain unresolved and not a little scarey). My Dad is looking into getting rid of her apartment because she won't go back. He's looking into homes for her. No relative of mine has ever lived in a home - we tend to be healthy until the end and then go fast. This is all very surreal.

The good news is that she is doing very well today. When my parents visited this morning the physiotherapists had her up and sitting in a chair. When my Dad asked when they sat her there she responded clearly: "this morning." A few moments later she was back to nodding "yes and no" so the recovery isn't complete but its progress.

I know to be patient and that she's not going to recover from a stroke overnight but I also know that she is 88 ...

If you can spare a thought or a prayer ...

I've survived the hardest part of Halloween

I managed to make two halloween costumes this year - without having a clue what I was doing. Without being able to sew well enough to save my life. And without any help. The kids are happy with my efforts - which is what was really worrying me (I was so worried about disappointing them). Kamryn's face in the picture says it all (we have SUCH a hard time getting her to smile naturally in pictures and the grin for this picture made the days and days I spent working on this costume so worthwhile).




They're a toothbrush and a bottle of Listerine: the Gingivitis Superheroes. And yes it was all their idea. Kamryn's costume wasn't quite done in this photo - I still had to hem it. It's done now and it survived her piano lesson this morning so I'm relatively confident it will hold out tonight (another fear; the brush part was a bit of a challenge).

Not giving in to the panic.

Today I'm being a good citizen. I'm being reasonable. I'm not panicking (okay I'm panicking a little but telling myself that I'm an idiot at the same time).

I took the morning off work for some health things I needed to take care of. I have an appointment for an ultrasound at 11 am and figured I could get a number of other things done as well. My plan - pop into the pharmacy and pick up a vaccine (not H1N1) that I need. Slip up to my doctor's office - have the nurse administer the vaccine. Drive down the road to the local H1N1 vaccine clinic and get a ticket to bring the kids back later today for their vaccines and then go to my ultrasound.

Playing around in my head the whole time though was the words of the city's public health officer - "we will not turn school age children away from the vaccine clinics BUT we prevail upon the public to let high risk people get their vaccines first." Smart man. People who aren't high risk are most certainly getting vaccinated this week - there has been a mass outbreak of asthma all of a sudden. I feel a little cheated by those folks but I decided this morning not to join them.

My children aren't high risk. Just because I'm panicking doesn't mean we need to/should queue jump. It's hard though. Last night they announced that they will run out of vaccine next week. They've assured us that more is coming but that they had to slow down production in order to produce the non-adjuvanted version of the vaccine (which is good for me because I discovered I'm allergic to the adjuvant added to the standard vaccine (to boost its strength). Still - its nerve wracking to know they are going to run out and just trust that more will be coming. Then there was the trip to my doctor's for the shot I needed this morning. There is a big red sign on the door that reads "stop if you have flu-like symptoms put on a mask immediately on entering" or something to that effect. I opened the door. There was a little girl in a mask sitting RIGHT next to the door. The nurse was on the phone obviously talking down a freaked out parent with a child in the grips of H1N1 (any flu here is considered H1N1 because seasonal flu hasn't hit yet). I took a seat as far away from the girl with the mask as possible. Noticed another sign telling patients that they are no longer doing blood tests in the office because of the high numbers of people with flu-like symptoms (I don't quite understand that but whatever). I casually asked the nurse if they were being overwhelmed and she didn't hesitate in telling me yes - wonderful.

Still, we will wait - none to patiently - until the offer the vaccine to the general public before braving the excessively long lines.

I guess THIS is the winter of my discontent.

H1N1 - Completely Stressed Out

There is a good article in the Globe and Mail this morning about not panicking. It’s timely because I am indeed doing a piss poor job of holding panic at bay. Whenever I think of H1N1 my heart flutters a little, my stomach does an uncomfortable flip-flop, and I blink back the start of tears. I’m scared and I’m trying really hard not to be.

Two children died this week. Two previously healthy children. A ten-year old girl and a thirteen-year old boy. The thirteen year old boy complained of a sore throat on Saturday morning and was dead by Monday afternoon. His parents sought medical attention and were prescribed Tylenol and rest. On Monday he collapsed after a bath. He did not recover. That is not only sad – heartbreakingly sad – but freaks a person out. I look at my essentially healthy kids and I think of Evan’s parents – who set him off to play hockey on Saturday morning oblivious as to what was to come.

Vaccination clinics have begun here. There is enough vaccine, unlike in the US, but the next 7 – 14 days are supposed to be for high-risk patients only. As it is they only have the capacity to vaccinate a certain number of people (4,200 on Monday, 5,300 yesterday) so the line-ups are LONG (1 1/2 - 4 hours) and they are turning people away well before the clinics themselves close. In parts of Eastern Ontario all children under 18 have been determined to be high-risk. Not so here, as (and I guess this is good news) the flu hasn’t hit with the same intensity (although CHEO is reporting a 49 per cent increase in patients over the past week and a 100 percent jump on Monday). I don’t know if I can wait 7 – 14 days (it takes another 7 – 14 days for the vaccine to take effect). Can I live like this for another month? The stress may kill me.

Twenty per cent of schools are reporting higher than average absences (not necessarily attributable to H1N1). I don’t know if that includes my child’s school. I would feel much better if there was a list out there. Or maybe I wouldn’t. They are talking about keeping healthy children away from extra-curricular activities – the boy who died had been playing in a hockey tournament when he fell ill. They are questioning whether children should go trick-or-treating.

We are continuing with our routine. We are changing nothing. But inside – where no one can see – I’m panicking.

The kids have an odd obsession.

The children are obsessed with teenagers. I don’t get it. They talk about teenagers in language and in tones normally reserved for celebrities of some sort. We’ll be driving along and — its like we’re on a safari — one of them will spot a teenager and squeal in delight while pointing it out to the other. They will then describe the teenager in minute detail including whatever activity they may be engaged in.

I took them on a bus ride with me the other day and it was really embarrassing as they counted down the MANY teenagers on the bus. They were enthralled (and LOUD!).

To counter Daniel and I have started pointing out senior citizens. We’re not feeling the rush though.

I think my kids need some sort of therapy.

Justifying my worth

I'm working on a cover letter for a job competition here at work. My confidence level is not high. I applied for the same competition last spring and "screened out" for not meeting the criteria even though I felt I clearly did.

I was mad - oh so mad. Ready to quit mad. Nothing like being told you don't qualify to apply for the job you've been doing for over a year.

These competition are obstensibly open to all (i.e. all Government employees) but the qualifications you need to possess really makes them internal (to about 20 of the 150 civilian employees in my Group). We're a small group. I knew the director who screened me out - very well. I went to see him. I ended up crying in his office. Frustrated tears but tears nonetheless. Wonderful.

That competition went nowhere. I don't know what happened (I'm speculating there were a lot of people like me - but without the tears and the board recognized they had done SOMETHING wrong). So now there is this new competition. Applications are due Thursday. It's a big deal. It wouldn't necessarily mean a job change for me (I've been in an acting role for well over a year now) or even more challenging responsibilities but would mean I would be getting paid for the work I'm doing which would be nice. It would be some recognition of my experience and worth. It's a pretty senior position though and they aren't just going to give it to me because I'm such a nice person.

My supposed error last time was not adequately describing my experience. Oddly the new poster advertising the competition (as opposed to the last one) has a paragraph written in capital letters telling applicants to demonstrate that they meet the criteria for their job in the cover letter which is not to exceed 3 pages. My resumé is only 2 1/2 pages in length. The cover letter is longer which to me is a little bizarre. I haven't worked on my resumé at all but I will have to make sure it matches this insane letter. It's a terribly written letter but it does describe in detail how I meet the criteria.

I'm scared to submit it because I just don't have the heart to go through the mess that was last time all over again.

Hate this.

PS. We're bleeding staff because it is so hard to get promoted within our organization. Isn't that ridiculous and how come I'm still here?

All the boring news that's fit to print

I. Wow do I get a lot of work done at work. I'm sure you're saying isn't that the point ... Thing is it isn't the work I'm getting paid to do. It's a the minutiae family stuff that needs doing. I was away sick last week (just a cold and an unfortunate and embarrassing minor back injury) but boy was I behind. I've been here an hour and a half and I'm just now thinking about blogging (oh I kill myself I'm so funny). I'm just about to turn to "real" work.

Let's see, I've rescheduled the kids eye appointments because I accidentally double booked them on a day Kamryn has a skating development class.

- I've researched quotes for uniforms for the concert band I play with.

- I've searched all over town (via phone) for a tray of water bottles with long spouts (all the sports stores are sold out because everyone wants this type of water bottle - doesn't touch the drinker's mouth - because of H1N1).

- I've ordered name tapes for Sam's Hockey jersey.

- I've arranged to pick up a manual that I need for hockey (for me not the kids) from the Training Coordinator who lives a few blocks from our house.

Okay not all that much or all that exciting - but it took a whack of time.

II. Okay please tell me how both my kids hockey coaches can have the same name - worse their last names both begin "Be..." I'm not with it enough to keep the two teams separate in my head at the best of times and now every time I get an email from the coaches I have no idea what child they are talking about.

III. The team "Kamryn skated with" (Daniel's descriptive phrase) beat the beejeebers out of the other team on Saturday: final score 8 - 3. Kamryn didn't contribute much. Basically skated around on the ice looking dazed (in a very cute way) most of the time. Once she touched the puck... briefly. She had fun though.

I - well I had a great time as the trainer. I stood in the corner of the bench and helped open the door when the kids needed to change lines. I yelled at the referee to postpone play (and was either not heard or ignored) because our goalie had a problem with his pads. And I... ummm... well that was about it.

Oh I learned that in minor hockey they only play three periods - actually I learned that in all hockey they only play three periods (this was when I expressed my surprise to Daniel on the "shortened" game). Yes sports fans the official trainer of the Cumberland Novice Thunder didn't know how many periods were in a hockey game. Goes to show you. :) I did warn them that I hated hockey and knew nothing about it. Okay I didn't mention the hatred part.

Also, on Saturday afternoon I "had to" go out and buy a black ski jacket because the rest of the coaching staff all wear black (team colours are black, gold and white) on the bench and I felt a little obvious in my bright red jacket. During the next game I will blend and that's really more important than knowing how many periods there are isn't it?

IV. The kids want to be a toothbrush and a bottle of Listerine for Halloween. I had feared it would be a grand disaster. I did a mock-up of the toothbrush yesterday and although they will look nothing like the people in the link I posted - it will be all right for a 7 and 5 year old whose non-sewing mother made their costumes. Pray for me. Nothing like obsessing over disappointing your kids.

Okay that's all folks.

A woman's work.

Friday I took the day off. We've had a very busy fall and there has been literally no downtime at work so, ostensibly, you might think I had a nice relaxing and enjoyable day off. You'd be wrong.

It was the kind of day that made me feel capable with a capital C. A good day.

Friday was my father's 75th birthday. I volunteered to host a part for him and his 60 closest friends at my house for Saturday. I took Friday off to prepare. Wow what a day. By 8:30 am it was apparent to me that it was going to be a helluva day so I thought I'd keep a running tally of what I actually did all day. That was kind of fun and allowed me 30 seconds rest ever so often. You wanna see my list? If you don't you're gonna have to stop reading. Sorry.

So...

BTW ever so often I remembered to write down the time but its very haphazard. Sometimes I wrote of what I was about to do rather than had just done and while it got done kind of in the order listed I wasn't perfect so some things are slightly out of order. Still an awesome list (yes, I'm bragging); if rather boring (I didn't do anything amazing; I just did A LOT).

- 8:00 am Up, shower, fight with child#1 re: school attire (how is it that she wears a school uniform and some mornings it is STILL a struggle?)
- made chili for dinner (discovered we had no chili powder)
8:30 Daniel generously made me coffee
- take laundry out of washer and put in dryer
- run the dishwasher
- fold laundry (not the new laundry)
- organize DH's office
- organize kid's toy closet (toy closet and the office had me muttering under my breath about others messes but easier to clean it myself than supervise)
- clean playroom
- made up bed in spare room
10:30 am breakfast! (toast and peanut butter)
- "convinced" Daniel to fix the hinge on the kitchen cupboard that I have been asking him to do for weeks (did this by going into his workshop and getting out a drill to do it myself; I have no idea how to use said drill and Daniel knows this; not passive agressive at all, really *grin*)
- open up dinning room table
- cleaned out walk-in closet in front hallway
12:00 field trip!
- popped into police station for a criminal records check (for hockey)
- dropped Daniel at the mall (he was on the way to school and I saved him a bus ride)
- stop in at Costco to renew membership and order 2 cakes for Saturday.
- Stop at Hallmark for by a birthday card for Dad
- stop at Bulk Barn for stuffing supplies
- stop at Farm Boy for stuffing supplies
- stop at Party Supply Store for decorations and to order balloons
2:30 lunch - Mickey D's
- home notice that the my Parents have visited and dumped off a bunch of supplies in my kitchen
- haul 6 cases of pop to the basement fridge
- finish arranging Dining Room
- sweep up the dead leaves that have fallen off my living room plants
- wash all the towels in the house
= make stuffing for two turkey's
4:30 Pee! Seriously
- toss towels in dryer
- assuming I'm done with laundry convert laundry room which is just off the kitchen into a butler's pantry (this involves placing a board and plastic tablecloth over the washer and dryer so that I can then dump all sorts of stuff on top of them)_
- zip out to pick up the kids from the bas stop (15 minute drive as the bas drops them off at my parent's house)
- gas up car on return journey
- make corn bread to go with chili (oh I got chili powder at Bulk Barn and the chili is now powdered)
- strip sheets off all the beds (doh! laundry!)
- undo butler's pantry
- wash sheets
- dinner with the kids
- unload dishwasher
- fold laundry
- makes kids' beds
- clean 3 bathrooms; by bathroom #2 I'm dragging
- pack away leftovers from dinner
- wash dishes
- sweep kitchen floor
- shake out mats
- 9:00 pm hang garland and happy birthday sign in playroom turned party room
- sweep dining room and front hallway
- locate kids' hockey equipment to prepare for hockey practice at 7:00 Saturday morning
9:55 pm diet coke!
- made bed with Daniel - he did most of the work at this point because I was fried.

Novice C!

Kamryn is officially a Novice C hockey player.

Never thought that would happen.

I'm pretty certain she is the only girl on the team (we only ever came across one other girl during tryouts; although we heard rumors of two others). We'll find out when the team gets together for the first time on Saturday. We were unsure of whether she would be able to play Novice given her level of experience (nil while many of her teammates will have been playing for 2 to 4 years!) so even though C is the most junior level in Novice it’s a coup for her. And she belongs there; there is no doubt whatsoever about her ability. Novice is for kids born in 2001/2002 so she's playing with/competing against kids who in some cases will be 9 in January!

Her two little friends (both boys) from school were red-shirted (not unusual and what we thought Kamryn might be headed for) and are playing with the Initiation Program (normally for 5/6 year olds) because they just couldn't skate well enough to play Novice. So kudos to Kamryn for her hard work and enthusiasm. For being able to skate forwards and backwards in full hockey gear. For being able to stop without completely losing control and ending up on her knees. For being able to take a hit (yes she took a hard one; it was an accident) and shake it off. For being able to stay on her feet and even occasionally take a swipe at the puck. Kudos for being a girl in a sport that is still (big surprise to me) COMPLETELY dominated by boys. Don't let all that women's Olympic hockey team stuff fool you (it fooled me); this isn't soccer where girl's match boys pretty evenly in participation.

I did discover - too late - that there is a girl's association BUT in order to have enough girls to fill out the teams it covers three times the area covered by the boy's association. It is more expensive and would have meant driving all over the world for practices and games. By playing with the boys association Kamryn's practices will be just down the road from our house and her games (as a house league player) shouldn't be too much of a haul. Better still she will be a better hockey player. Next year we will ask her if she wants to switch and play with the girls but I don't think she will mind playing with the boys at all (so far she doesn't). She really isn't that kind of a girl - never has been.

Last weekend we went out and got her pink laces for her hockey skates. It makes it easier to tell which player she is -- since none of the boys have pink laces -- and it makes her happy. She was quite disappointed that no one on her team asked her "if she was a girl or just a boy who liked pink." Just writing that makes my heart hurt a little because she's not here so I can't give her a little proud-mommy hug.

Also, last weekend I took the Trainer Level I class and passed (a blind, deaf monkey with a limp and a semi-functional left hand could have passed which is a little scary. There was so little first aid training it was stunning; they leave that to the Level II class I guess.) so I'm a "qualified" trainer. I have a little yellow cardboard card that I filled out myself to prove it. Oh and I have a little badge too... somewhere. I volunteered to be the back-up trainer for Sam's team because I didn't know what his schedule would be like and Kamryn has piano on Saturday mornings (just to make things interesting) which I'm committed to attending with her. I think I've volunteered to be the primary trainer for Kamryn's team (although I told them I would be most comfortable sharing the job with someone with more (read: any) hockey experience). Kamryn liked the idea of another "girl" on the bench with her. We'll see how this all plays out - no pun intended.

This really has taken over our lives - or at least our weekends. Scary considering Sam isn't even technically a "player;" he's just in the Initiation program. This Saturday, for instance, Kamryn has practice at 7:30 am at a rink not far from our house. She'll come off the ice at 8:20. Sam has a practice starting at 9:00 am at a rink not far from our house but in the opposite direction from the first rink. Luckily there are a few Tim Horton's in between. Because this weekend is Thanksgiving, there is mercifully no game on Sunday but games will start next weekend. We also, as I mentioned, have piano lessons on Saturday mornings AND soccer (for Sam) Saturday afternoons. We didn't plan it this way, this is just the bizarre way things panned out. It’s a lot of "family time" though which is definitely nice.

Kamryn is most excited about getting a team sweater. Figures. lol

They are idiots.

Or think I am.

Yesterday, I bought Kamryn a new dress from the Gap. It was on sale: $27.99. Not bad. I also bought her matching leggings. When we tried the dress on at home we decided we didn’t really need the leggings so I popped into the Gap (which is in the Mall across from my office building – a five minute walk from my desk; a walk I can make without ever going out of doors. This tidbit will be relevant later in my story) to return the leggings and they were having a sale – 25% off anything already on sale. Hmmm… like the dress I bought yesterday. Luckily there was one still in stock. Identical to the one I had already purchased. Identical size. Identical colour. Luckily I had my receipt with me. Could they give me a price adjustment?

Of course not! That would just make too much sense. Their policy is that they can’t sell me the last in stock item in the store and then have me return it. It wouldn’t be fair. To who? Okay.

So I bought the one that was in the store at the discounted price: $22.50.

I went back to my desk, had my lunch, and worked for a bit and then I went BACK to the Gap.

The saleslady says, “You were in earlier weren’t you?” Ummm ya! “Reason for the return?” she asks.

I point out that it’s now 25% cheaper.

“Oh” she says, “did you buy one at the cheaper price earlier?”

"Yes, I did," I tell her.

“Oh, and now you’re returning the one you bought yesterday.”

“Yes, I am,” I replied (hey lied is part of the word replied). Why they couldn’t have just done a price adjustment is beyond me. We wasted, time, money, paper and for the three hours the dress was in my possession it wasn’t available for anyone else to buy. Moronic.

I can understand not giving a price adjustment if the same article isn’t available for purchase but geez Louise to make me buy it, leave with it and come back later?

This isn’t the first time this has happened to me. The last time though I was able to explain to the clerk how stupid their policy was. This morning I just didn’t have the energy to argue.

Nothin like jumping in with both feet

I've signed up to be a Trainer for the kids' hockey teams. I hate hockey. I can't handle being cold but I have also have a problems with belonging to a volunteer organization and not contributing. This could be interesting. Classes start in two weeks - yup to be a trainer you have to train.

Relaxing Weekend

So Friday my employer gave me a surprise project that would necessitate a minimum 10 hours work over the weekend. Yay! Especially last weekend. What a weekend.

Friday at 6 pm Kamryn had a hockey pre-conditioning session.

I raced out of work to get her there on time. (Daniel was in class.) My mother was generous enough to feed both kids an early dinner for me.

We spent an hour at the rink. Kamryn had fun. We get home to a message on the answering machine from Sam’s grandmother that she is coming up for a visit and should be in town around noon on Saturday. Wonderful. Here is was the planned schedule for Saturday:

10:30 -11:30 Kamryn Piano lesson
12:30 – 1:30 Kamryn hockey evaluations
1:00 – 2:00 Sam soccer
4:00 – 5:00 Sam hockey pre-evaluation skate
6:00 dinner guests

Oh and it was cleaning day! Did I mention none of these activities took place even remotely close to one another and that we only have one car. Nothing could go wrong (ha!).

When Daniel got home he had instructions to call Nana and tell her she could come but she wouldn’t see much of Sam. She decided to come on Sunday instead (remember my minimum 10 hour project?).

Got up early on Saturday – pulled together the raw ingredients for supper – chopped veggies etc. Figured we were in good shape.

Daniel got down to cleaning while I took Kamryn to piano. Piano ran late (it’s a group class) – of course. We left early. At 11:45 I dropped Kamryn off at home so she could eat lunch while I ran to the grocery store for some last minute supper supplies. When I got home at 12:10 (remember nothing can go wrong), Daniel is on the phone yelling at the customer service agent from the gas company. Apparently our hot water heater sprung a rather severe leak. They couldn’t send someone out to look at it until Sunday.

I had to get Kamryn to hockey. Sam had to go to soccer. We have one car.

So we left Daniel at home to try to contain the leak and I took both kids to the rink. Daniel was to join us when he could (using pedal power) and then I would take Sam to soccer (he was SOOOOO excited to be going to soccer. He got up and lay out all his soccer clothes including shin pads and shoes). Got Kamryn on the ice on time. Discovered that there is a girls’ hockey league (they were having evaluations on the adjoining rink). I accidentally signed Kamryn up for boys’ hockey. I saw one single solitary girl besides Kamryn among the hundreds of boys I saw this weekend. Oops. She doesn’t care.

Daniel arrived at 1:00 and Sam and I dashed off — late — to soccer practice. Then back at 2:00 ish to pick Daniel and Kamryn up.

Home for 45 minutes. Have lunch. Mmmmm.

Daniel goes back to work to drain the hot water heater. Suit Sam up in his hockey gear so of course now he won’t fit in his car seat. Kamryn wants to come with us so she sits in his car seat and he sits in her booster (he’s big enough for a booster but we prefer him in a car seat; luckily Kamryn at 7 is still small enough for a car seat). Head off like a madwoman towards the rink – the wrong rink. In the complete opposite direction from where we needed to go. I discover this when on arrival at the wrong rink I pull out my blackberry to google local rinks and my appointment reminder indicates my mistake. Wonderful. Flip around and arrive at the new rink with 1 ½ minutes to spare.

Let me tell you this, 5 year olds in hockey gear – hilarious! 7-year olds are much too serious.

Dash home. Run around like a madwoman pulling the house together. Floors got washed. Carpets didn’t get vacuumed. Two out of three bathrooms got cleaned. Stove, neglected.

Start dinner (luckily the menu was REALLY easy – I’m not a complete fool).

Kids both need a bath. No hot water. So we boil giant kettles of water an haul them upstairs. We can only get water in the big roman tub in the master bath. Something with the way the pipes are rooted in the kids bathroom. Bathe both kids – same time in lukewarm water.

Finish dinner.

Guests are late – woohoo!

Guests arrive. We eat. We drink. We put the children to bed and drink some more. Round midnight the guests leave and I collapse exhausted in bed. As much as I like my friends I was looking at the clock forlornly at 9:30 and wishing them gone.

2 am Sam – living in the house without hot water -- wets his bed. Sigh.

Sunday morning, the sound of Church bells wakes me up. They are blessing school bags in church this morning (bizarre! We had nevertheless planned to take the kids). I asked Daniel what time it was – 10! Lol No Church for us.

Remember that 10 hour project; I haven’t started on? Well it had to wait. Kamryn has a poem to present in class on Tuesday. That took precedence. Poem preparation while I ate breakfast. Then I pulled out a stack of reference material and opened up the laptop – in the dining room where I stayed for the remainder or the day (we have an office but I’ve always been a dining room table type of girl.)

I finished after dinner and collapsed into bed to watch old Star Trek episodes in an attempt to be nice to Daniel.

That’s all.

I'm going to pull Kamryn out of school.

And let her grow up ignorant and illiterate. Yes. This will be my plan.

I'm not going to survive second grade. Kamryn has to read for 15 minutes a day - so far that's the only homework she's had. Real homework starts next week. Oh my lord its been a struggle. Total meltdowns on why she has to read and her 5 year old brother does not. Then, when she is reading - if you try to correct her reading - another total meltdown. Heaven help you if you make her sound out a word and she doesn't do it perfectly and you have to have her try again.

Piano practice is the same.

Sobbing uncontrollably about how she isn't good enough; she can't do it; we don't want to help her; that we're not listening to her (implying that she did it right and we missed it); that life is unfair. BIG emphasis on what is fair.

This isn't new behavior - just amplified, by overtiredness, I expect. She goes to bed early enough (8:00 ish; generally earlier) but I can't stop her from staying awake after early morning pees so she's getting up earlier than I would like.

So that's it. We'll hide her in the basement when the truant officers arrive. We'll turn her into the feral girl. It can't be any worse than what we are dealing with now.