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.