I have not disappeared. Just dealing with an intense amount of family stuff so my fingers are a little quiet. Back soon!

My Dad and I wrote this ...

All about Eula

Eula was born in St Lucia on the 5 of March 1922. Over 88 years — some of them, not that easy — she made the most of her life. She lived a life anyone could be proud of.

As a girl she was athletic and adventurous and got into her fair share of mischief — things like falling out of coconut trees — which is hard to believe when you considered what a proper and upstanding adult she was to become. She was most proud to represent her school on the netball team. She also had an artistic side and loved to sing and act. Indeed, she had a real flair for drama.

As a young woman, during the hardest times of the Second World War, she went to work as a sales clerk for her Godfather to help to bring up her three younger siblings.

After her Godfather, she moved to work for one of the largest department stores, on the island.

In 1959 Eula took the bold step of migrating to Canada to join her youngest sister.

Her first job in Canada was as a nanny for a Canadian family. Her caring nature endeared her to that family and them to her. Some of them have joined us today. Over the years they were never far from her heart and she mentioned the W* family often and always with a smile.

From there she joined the department store “Freimans,” a family business that was bought out by the Hudson’s Bay Company in the 70s, as an account processing clerk. Staying with Freimans and eventually the Bay she worked as a sales clerk until her retirement in the early 80s. She was a most dedicated employee and it took a great deal to keep her from her post day after day. She took her retirement somewhat reluctantly.

Eula was a people person and she was loved by all who knew her. During her retirement she spent time helping others and being a companion to older folks. Eula valued these relationships and became a trusted friend to these seniors. One even showed her appreciation for Eula’s companionship by listing Eula in her will. Indeed, Eula was always there when anyone needed help. Even in her eighties she was the one many – family and friend — relied on to take care of them when illness threatened or some crisis rose up.

Eula was very active. A real example for her neices and nephews of how to live a full life. She travelled the world — the Carribean, Europe, the Holy Land. If someone needed a travelling companion she was always eager to go along.

She kept extremely fit. She swam every day and her swimming group was surprised to find that she was about twenty years their senior.

Eula loved sports. Her favourite Football team was the Dallas Cowboys and she was an ardent Blue Jay fan. She would scream — no exaggeration — at the players on the TV and had all kind of advice for the coaches – she called them names too. When she saw a spectacular play she would immediately call her friend and exclaim “did you see that pass?”

She loved to sing and dance. When she got sick some kind lady who sat behind her in church, sent her a get well card and mentioned that she missed her singing in church.

Eula was a very religious person – never missed a church service. She made friends easily and had wonderful ones who drove to church and back.

Eula never married but family was at the centre of her being. In her old apartment there was a credenza and every square inch of that credenza was taken up with picture frames. Pictures of her brother — whom she doted upon. Of her sisters whom she revered. Of her many neices and nephews – dozens of them. And grand-neices, grand nephews; great grands and her little great-great-grand neice. She loved them all and was always ready to hear of their accomplishments and endeavors. She had a soft spot for the boys and was ever forgiving of the mischief boys get up to. She loved the little girls and ribbons and bows put a smile on her face.

Eula passed away peacefully with her family at her side.

Man plans and God laughs

So I’m sitting in our basement office. I have a half drunk (fully caffinated!) Starbucks Café Mocha at my side at my side. I’m wearing rumpled clothes that I collected off the end of my bed (my room is actually clean I just had on set of somewhat used but still useable clothes dumped at the foot of the bed – I don’t know why it’s important you know this). My hair is combed but still somewhat bed heady. I’m feeling kind of unkempt which is a big deal for me; I’m normally too uptight to unkempt. I drove the kids to school and stopped off on the way back for a Starbucks. Now I’m hiding in the basement. Working from home – doing actual work too. It feels kind good.

It hasn’t been a good week at all.

Had my Easter long weekend all planned. I’m a planner. I like to plan. Makes me feel happy. Friday I was going to sleep late and then clean the house from top to bottom til it sparkled. Around noon I would pop down the road to visit my aunt at the retirement residence. Quick visit and then home to enjoy the weather. Since the weather was supposed to be beyond gorgeous we were going to sin like Babylonians and have hamburgers for dinner (not supposed to eat meat on Good Friday). I had Daniel buy extra foodstuffs so I could casually ask the neighbours to join us (since they are ALWAYS doing that to us and I never have the opportunity to return the favour. I’m not much for spontaneity. In this instance I planned to be spontaneous). Saturday, pick up a few last things for Easter dinner on Sunday and to get Easter baskets ready for the kids. Sunday a sumptious Easter feast. A relaxing day. Monday the kids and I would pop out to watch some of the other Novice hockey teams in the semi-finals. There a perfect weekend. Man plans …

Thursday afternoon I got a call from my mother – they were taking my aunt to the hospital; she would call when she knew more. I wasn’t surprised. I had commented earlier in the week that since she wasn’t eating (she’d had a second bout of gastro-enteritis) she needed to be in the hospital so they could feed and hydrate her. Just after dinner she called to say that my aunt had a bladder infection that – untreated – had spread to her bloodstream. She had septicemia. Her kidneys were shutting down and they didn’t hold out much hope. Could I come. Off to the hospital I went. Aunty knew me when I arrived – that means a lot. By midnight when she finally got a room she was slipping into a coma that she wouldn’t come out of. She was so very cold. I didn’t think she would last until morning.

On Friday morning they withdrew all drugs. Removed her IVs. Stopped checking her vitals. We sat and waited for her to pass. All day Friday. I left the hospital at midnight. I expected a phone call in the middle of the night telling me it was over. Not my aunt. She was a strong woman. She made it through Saturday and then Sunday.

I hosted a subdued Easter for the family. My parents left my Aunt’s side to join us for a meal (my Dad REALLY needed that I think) and then returned to the hospital (after three days of virtually no change they knew they could leave for a bit). They got back to the hospital at around 9:30; Aunty passed just before 1 am on Monday morning.

It’s an awful thing literally watching someone die. It’s affected me profoundly. I don’t think I realized how much my Aunt’s passing would affect me. She was so strong; so active. I never expected her to be gone so quickly (it’s been 6 months since her stroke and I haven’t really even processed that yet). The last conversation I had with her was about how difficult this was and that I knew it was hard and I was sorry. I know her passing was for the better but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Daniel left early Monday morning for his friend Grant’s funeral in Winnipeg. The funeral was yesterday. He’ll be back sometime tomorrow. I’m kind of trapped here alone because someone needs to watch the kids. Monday was a very odd day. At dinner I brought the kids and all the leftover Easter food (in a prelude to the food avalanche that was yesterday when ALL their friends delivered food) to my parents house so that everyone (Aunts and cousins that were hanging about) could eat.

Yesterday I went to work in a fog and left early. I came home and helped write the obit and the eulogy. Then there was the mechanics of taking care of the kids – who I’ve sorely neglected. Maya had a school project to do today that I helped her through last night but poor Dominic had to remind me that they needed dinner. They happily munched on sandwiches made from leftover ham and leftover crudites but it seemed like a rather pathetic offering to me. I have some leftover lamb for them tonight – a hot meal at least. Thank heavens for my family inherited habit of cooking too much food for holidays.

Today I thought better of going into work. Thus the rumpled clothes and the attempt to find comfort in my empty home. It’s raining today. I like rainy days at home.

So I’m going to finish off a speech I need to have off to my subject matter experts for vetting by noon and then I think I might try to put the house in some kind of order. I also have to get a hold of my brother (who can’t be here through no fault of his own) who is worried about how Dad is handling all this (not well) and assure him that I’m paying attention and trying my best here.

Sigh.

It's like summer today...

I can't remember an Easter like this. The temperature is something between 15 and 20 degrees warmer than it normally is this time of year. Tomorrow I will risk eternal damnation (eating meat on Good Friday) because I NEED to barbecue (God will understand no?). Loving it!

Perspective

Got home from work on Friday and plunked down on the living room couch to listen to Kamryn practice her piano. Noticed that there was a message on the answering machine. There were actually two – a half message from my mother that made no sense whatsoever (not unusual) and a message from a very close friend in Winnipeg asking that Daniel call her using her husband’s cell phone number. Odd I thought.

It made me a little nervous that she was calling. Daniel and her husband have been friends since they were teenagers, she, like me, doesn’t make the “catch up” phone-calls. If it was something casual the call would come from Grant. Something was wrong. I suggested maybe Grant's dad had passed away. Daniel looked at me like I was brain addled and pointed out that his Dad had died several years ago (I vaguely remembered that). Ooops. Daniel mentioned that Grant had had some health problems of his own lately – irregular heart beat etc. and I remarked that I guess it was time he lost a little weight and started taking better care of himself. NOTHING seemed all that serious.

As the kids and I sat down to dinner, Daniel returned the phone call. He didn’t come into the kitchen when the call was over. My stomach twisted a little. When he did come back in, I casually asked what was up and he replied that Grant was dying. In response to my total confusion Daniel told me Grant had had surgery for a brain tumour discovered after he complained a few weeks ago of sinusitis and that either during the surgery or immediately following he had a stroke and was brain dead. They were waiting for confirmation so that they could donate his organs. Sadly, that confirmation came on Saturday. Grant, an enormous man (he was at least 6'5")with the kindest heart imaginable, was 46. His kids who were the sun and the moon to him are 9 and 13. I can’t get my mind around the fact that he’s gone… at 46… from what two weeks ago he thought was a stubborn case of sinusitis. It doesn’t make sense.

Daniel is a mess. He’s a pretty emotional guy in the first place and his friends are VERY important to him. He doesn’t have many but those he has he’s generally had for LONG time. They have deep history together. He always tells the story about how he met Grant as something that was ordained – he claims he had a dream about it before it happened. Daniel is extremely loyal and so easy to take advantage of because of that. I’m pissed at most of these friends he’s had forever because I’ve seen how they take advantage of him and Daniel never does. Grant never did. He always bent over backwards for him. He was the best of Daniel’s friends in so many ways. It’s so unfair.

I’ve been where Daniel is – losing my bestest of best friends when I was 17. Still I don’t know what to do for him – save keeping the kids from bothering him. I don’t know what helped me – being left alone was what I really wanted at the time but I was a 17 year old girl so pretty much what you’d expect. I also had an enemy to fight which helped a lot as my girlfriend Tammy was killed on a sunny Wednesday afternoon by a drunk driver. My other friends and I threw ourselves into a huge campaign against drunk driving. It helped to have something to focus on. Still, over 20 years later and I had to wipe away a tear remembering.

I’ve provided what logistical support I could – finding a plane ticket was a bear! The memorial is the Tuesday after Easter – there are no airmiles flights available and purchased flights are astronomically expensive. It was a financial hit we didn’t have room to take but its not as if we had a choice. I wanted to go with him but once we saw we had to pay for tickets that decision was taken away from us. Scatter-brained and stressed as I am I managed to book him a ticket this morning but put the ticket in my own name (hopefully the airline is remedying that situation – I called them).

Sigh.

Hug your loved ones and spare a thought or a prayer for “the Boy” (as Daniel referred to him all Friday night as he called each and every one of his friends to share the news) and his family.

Leave my kids alone

Kamryn has swimming lessons on Thursday nights. Daniel has class until 8 or 9 and isn't available to watch Sam so I take him with me. He’s so good during Kamryn’s classes I occasionally find myself wondering about all my other “Sam-worries”. He sits patiently until class is over and follows directions reasonably well as I try to get Kamryn organized both before and after. I think what he really benefits from is being alone – alone he’s a different kid. But back to yesterday …

Lessons have been running for 10 weeks now. Next week is the last week. For the first month or so we used the family bathroom but the showers were broken in there for WEEKS so I just started taking DD into the woman's change room. In the end it’s much is easier: the family change room is has limited space and facilities (you have to line up for everything from showers to a changing booth). The only difference between the family change room and the ladies’ change room are the changing booths. The showers are communal. This is important.

Sam accompanied us last night, as always into the ladies room. The first week we did this I was somewhat concerned about his maleness but really there are no adult ladies changing (if there were I would re-think the practice) when we are using the room there are just children there the oldest being MAYBE eight.

Yesterday, I sat Sam on a chair in the corner and told him not to move; I got Kamryn started in the shower and then popped around the corner to the locker to get her shampoo and conditioner. While there, I bumped into a friend so I was gone a little longer than I intended - say 2 minutes. I get back and Kamryn says something about some lady yelling at Sam. I told her it was nothing and she must have misunderstood (there is another child with the same name as Sam and I just assumed she'd misinterpreted another parent disciplining their own child; because why would any parent have cause to say anything to my child who's sitting on a chair as he was told and minding his own business?) I finished with Kamryn in the shower and we left. It wasn't until we got to the car that I listened properly to what the kids were telling me and got the whole story.

The mother in question was angry because my 5 year old was in the change room while her daughters ( who I’d guess are no more that 5 or 6) were showering/dressing. Her children shower naked, wander aimlessly all over the place, take forever showering and generally annoy me to begin with (there are limited facilities – shower quick and get out of the way so someone else can use the showers). I’ve never said anything or done more than frown inwardly cause hey they are kids and kids will be kids.

What gives her the right to say anything to my children?!? Not to mention it was an ADULT conversation that they had no part of and they were doing nothing wrong whatsoever:

First off Sam’s only 5 (rules say no children of the opposite sex past age 6) and doesn't care that her daughters are naked.

Second, her kids don't have to take their suits off to shower. That’s her personal choice. This isn't a day spa it's a public pool thus the communal shower room (note there is also a communal shower in the family bathroom; no one is expecting nude showering here).

Finally and what really makes me the most mad is that she said NOTHING to me — neither last night nor in the 5 or 6 weeks Kamryn has been showering in the ladies’ shower room and Sam has been sitting in the corner (I'd put him in the locker room but it's got all sorts of nooks and crannies and places for him to hide and get into trouble; it's also got a door to the outside. And if you're worried about him seeing naked girls -- which I'm not -- there is a greater likelihood in the locker room than in the shower.).

What kind of parent attacks LITTLE kids with something that is obviously not of their own doing and waited for their mother to leave to do it. What kind of coward shuts up completely when mom comes back?!? I've got some words for her! I told Kamryn (who told me that she tried to explain to this woman that someone needs to watch Sam and her Dad wasn't available - bless her little heart) that if that ever happens again she is to repeat "I'm sorry you need to talk to my mother; she's right over there." I stopped short of instructing her on what name she should use to address such an individual – but I have a few. There may be some fireworks next week… just saying.

Random thoughts.

This morning I learned that, when motivated, I can make it from my house to the bus stop in just under 3 minutes. That is of course when there is no snow on the ground and I don't have to stick to the pavement. Of course I didn't even run (more of a race walk) and an hour later my chest still feels tight. I tell myself it's my asthma but really I'm just in terrible shape.

The reason I risked a heart attack to catch the bus? I couldn't get out of bed. I lay there after the alarm went off and seriously considered taking a mental health day. And then I was late. Like always... I dragged my butt out of bed and in to work because there is nothing wrong with me. Had a discussion with a good friend the other day on why we are incapable of pretending to be sick. Neither of us could pin it down. We even made a pact to fake sick the day after and take a much needed mental health day. We both were into work the next morning.

What's with American Idol? I watched a PVR'd episode last night and wow have they ever had such a large group of useless singers? Who would buy tickets to see these awful performers (I can't call them singers) on tour?

I took my watch off a couple of days ago because my arm was all hivey. I can't find it now and I NEED to know what time it is every second of the day. I really miss it.

Kamryn really wants to connect with a boy in her class using her Nintendo DSi. I have no idea how to do it. I don't really want to learn. She's terrible insistent and too sweet to ignore.

Silly season is about to end

This coming weekend are hockey playoffs.

Sam – who isn’t advanced enough to have play-offs – has his last practice at 7:am Saturday. Kamryn has a game at 9:00 am and then again at the same time on Sunday and one last game at 5:00 pm Sunday night. Her two Sunday games are at one of the very few arenas not in our immediate neighbourhood. I don’t have much to complain about on average we drive 15 minutes to a game. In this case the drive is about a half hour. Nevertheless, I’m spoilt and it seems a pain. This particular arena is in the middle of absolutely nowhere. We don’t live that far from nowhere! Actually we live extremely close to nowhere but have to drive through somewhere to get to nowhere again. What it means is that we can’t go play the game, grab some lunch, run some errands and then pop back for the last game. It will be a ½ drive out there a ½ drive back x2. An awful waste of time and gas. Four hockey “events.” One weekend – or non-weekend as the case will be. Still… it means that hockey season is almost over. Do the dance of joy!

I had fun this year. I didn’t think I would. I was prepared to hate the other hockey parents. But they were nice – for the most part I liked them. Although I must admit to not connecting very well with the parents on Sam’s team. His team is BIG (so hard to meet people consistently anyways) and the kids on his team… most of them…well… they’re going to be Good (I capitalized the G on purpose) or at least their parents assume they are going to be good. His team are the “top-ranked” (hilarious) 5 year-olds on skates in our district (this means they can skate without falling down… most of the time). Some of the parents are WAY to into hockey for my liking. One kid is the grandson of some hall-of-famer. He is an amazing little hockey player but his mother… she has to learn some humility. Sam isn’t that far behind this kid in skills (and has really caught up as the year progressed) and I’ve managed to keep my hat size down.

Manager Mom has told me that I’m likely in for a ride with Sam as the parents only get worse as the kids get older and the teams more competitive. Ugh! This summer Kamryn is going to do a power skating course to help her improve her skills a little. We purposefully didn’t sign Sam up. I’m considering having his legs casted all summer to further handicap him before Fall skating evaluations. Our goal – two years down the road is for him not to make A hockey. He needs to play B for his parents’ sanity. He’s already too good for C (he plays better than many of the 7 year olds on Kamryn’s team right now).

He is something to watch though. If only I didn’t have to deal with the parents of all the little Sydney Crosby’s out there. I had the chance to go and watch Sam play soccer a few weekends ago (normally I’m tied up with hockey and miss his games). I must say: soccer parents – not much better. I was really surprised. Who knew that athletic talent could make people so catty.

Anyway, I’m so looking forward to having our weekends back. We will drop from Soccer, Hockey and Piano lessons to just Piano lessons. That will last until mid-May when we’ll add in a Saturday morning soccer practice for both kids. Piano lessons should end around that time. It’s going to be heavenly.

I’m hyper critical of over-scheduled kids and we’ve always had strict rules to guard against this descent into insanity. I don’t know how we ended up here.

Hi Anne

Hi everyone else too (honestly, I never really believed more than about 5 people read this blog). Today, I received a comment directing me to read a comment on another blog. Very cryptic; I felt a little like I was on a treasure hunt. The other blog writer over at Pithydithy was writing about anonymity and how we aren't so anonymous and does it matter. Would it freak me out to know that others knew who I was? No not at all. Just depends who.

Many people who read know my real identity. And I don't work very hard here to hide it. In fact, I regularly slip up with the names and am reminded by kind readers. I've often thought that maybe my attempts to be marginally anonymous were a little silly but I perservere mostly for the kids. I moved over here from TLOL Journal site where I kept no secrets whatsoever. I'm a pretty open person face-to-face; it's a character flaw perhaps; not that I think I should be secretive but often I realize that my honesty (read: big mouth) has put me at a disadvantage in certain situations but there is nothing to be done after the fact.

It's pretty rare (Although it does happen. My method of birth-control? Not really a topic for the workplace.) I am marginally more open here.) that I would disclose something here that I wouldn't tell a colleague at work. My take on it is that I'm a pretty boring person and as such have nothing really to hide - in person or on this blog. This horrifies my husband - in person and on the blog - so the anonymity, thin as it is, is also a nod to him. I'm a lot like my mother: Look at me. What you get is what you see. This is me; the real me. Like me or hate me but this is all you get.

Do I share everything - no. I try to stay away from finances, relationship issues and work. Then again those parts of my life could be more boring but it would be hard. Sometimes the omissions are simply because I'm too busy or lazy to write about stuff. Sometimes I write long, detailed and angst filled posts and then delete them because in the end I know I'm not anonymous. It's not that my life is that terrible but when I'm upset I write. I've always done that. It's the origin of this blog - my infertility struggles needed an outlet or I was going to go mad. But sometimes pain has to be private (oh and sometimes I realize that I'm just hormonal and silly!) It's also why I can go weeks and not post anything. To write about happy stuff I need to motivate myself and often I'm too busy being happy to find that motivation.

People I wouldn't want to read this blog (and would likely stop blogging if it were to happen):

The kids' birthfamilies; there are some things I just don't want to "discuss" with them (even if that discussion were one-sided). I can't describe what the adoptive parent/birth parent relationship is like (and each one is different anyways) but I still constantly feel like one does when meeting a new partners' parents for the first time: terrifed that I'll do something to disappoint them or earn their disapproval. I'm not always completely honest with them (mostly to spare their feelings more than anything else) and I don't want to have to deal with that.

My own family. It would just be weird.

Close friends who I see on a regular basis. Again on the weird side. Nothing inherently wrong with it because they know all this stuff anyways but just weird.

Anne, would my stomach have done flip flops if you said you knew me from my blog. Probably a little. In such a situation, I'd be at a real disadvantage because you'd know so much about me and I, well, I'd know nothing about you. But if you read this blog you'd also recognize that I'm terrible at making friends and wouldn't mind another one (unless of course you think I'm a complete kook and to be avoided.)

So ya. Is it nice to be anonymous? Yes. Do I rely on that anonymity? A little. It's nice to be free to speak my mind with few repercussions. Do I count on it? Not really.

Hives - revisited (got some great news!)

So I still have hives - despite my earlier half-hopeful post about them abating. While, they didn't go away entirely they did moderate to a point where I could live with them and they have SLOWLY continued to improve. I'm still itchy enough that when I went into the powder room this morning to check my outfit one last time before leaving for work - Daniel's comment was "one last scratch before you go?"

It turns out (or at least seems that way) that the NuvaRing connection was more a hormonal coincidence and nothing more than that. Three cheers there.

Yesterday (2 1/2 months post appearance of the hives), I finally got in to see the allergist. He gave me an allergy test (something I haven't had done in 20 years or so) and informed me I'm not allergic to anything new. Yay team! He thinks my current "discomfort" is a combination of a virus, my normal allergies and really sensitive skin (my family doctor said as much so three cheers for her too).

The real good news though is that for 41 years I've lived with TWO anaphalactic allergies - tree nuts and seafood/fish. The tree nut allergy is alive and well (boo!) but I had no reaction whatsoever to the seafood/fish allergy. This is huge news. People are pretty careful about nuts. Nuts is an allergy I only had to casually worru about because society did all my worrying for me. That was never the case with my fish allergy. No one ever thinks twice about. Restaurants could be so much of a crap shoot - did they use the same frying for my chicken as they did for someone else's fish and chips? What about that big bowl of chopped crab at Subway sitting right next to the cold meats? Did the Chinese Food take-out take care to keep the spoon they used for shrimp away from the one they used for fried noodles?

This was an allergy so severe that casual contact had put me in the hospital 3 times. I have NEVER eaten seafood. When I was a kid there were two sets of dishes in my seafood loving family's home - my dishes and everyone else's. When my parents cooked fish, I had to leave the house (okay they shouldn't have been cooking it at all but I guess I survived ).

Anyway, my instructions for the doctor are to wait until my current problems subside and then to go ahead and try a SMALL amount. I'm so excited - all sorts of things I want to try. 'Course the doctor laughed and warned me that I might not LIKE fish once I get a chance to try it. I'm just so excited that I can - never thought I would. My mother is dead set against me trying anything whatsoever. Daniel not so adamant but certainly not as happy as I am about the whole prospect. Seriously though - my arm didn't even tingle during the scratch test.

Now if this confounded itching would just stop...

I'm so confused

I don't get it. I know that as Moms (or Dads) we lead pretty busy lives and we want to feed our children nutritous meals quickly. But seriously? Washing, peeling and chopping are that difficult? Seriously? People spend money on this?

Who needs an expensive spa?

I have to say there is little better than

• a quiet house (kids both asleep; husband studying two floors away)
• comfy yoga pants,
• my favorite T-shirt (that makes me look fatter than I am but that I like anyway!),
• a fluffy duvet,
• a Coke Zero
• some freshly made air popped (not microwave - yuck!) popcorn, and
• some trashy (but first run) TV (in this case Trauma)

It's weird the things that can -- at times -- make you feel priviledged. Or maybe not. We are so spoiled in this country.

So this is how it is to live without real winter

We're entering silly season. Which is insane given that it's the first week of March and normally we have a good four feet of snow on the ground but that's the type of winter we have had. Mildest, calmest winter I can remember... EVER. I'm pretty certain that the kids will be out on their bikes this weekend. Normally that's not really practical until May.

But it's warm (warmish) and sunny and if we still have a snow pack (there will be snow but much of it should have melted) this time next week I will be surprised. People keep cautioning that we could get whacked with a major storm still; but really? We've had ONE major storm this winter (normal count is 5 - 6). The storm was in November I think. The last significant snowfall we had was the beginning of January. I was outside (and quite comfortable) without a coat this week!

So back to silly season ... how to dress the kids. Normally we hit this point in mid to late April. It lasts no longer than a week. We go from frozen tundra to sunny spring over the course of a few days. All the snow melts all the mud goes. I like that. This year it's going to take longer. Conceivably 6 weeks or more (it's warm but not THAT warm). Sam no longer owns rain pants (my cousin took them by accident and never managed to return them). He doesn't have a between season coat. I sent him to school this morning in snow pants and his ski jacket because if not he will come home a soaking mess. He looked like Nanook of the North. I have no doubt he will be uncomfortably warm. I may look for a jacket for him at lunch. Kamryn had a semi-warm spring coat that she wore this morning with the addition of a fleece. She also wore rain pants; over her snow boots.

I hate this time of year (we had the same problem this fall as winter took its sweet time coming). The kids come home over-heated and COVERED in mud. There is no getting around it.

Then again I love it that it's spring in March.

Left Brain 2, Right Brain 0

Woohoo! Lost and Drop Dead Diva. It's easy to stay on the treadmill while watching Drop Dead Diva. Even when your thighs start to hurt.

Grey's Anatomy is on tonight. I can definitely walk while watching Grey's Anatomy. Oh and Survivor!

I've increased the incline to may be tone my buns a little.

Treadmill Potato

I'm a little worried about my level of activity. Or maybe that should read inactivity. I sit at a desk all day. I walk 4 minutes to the bus stop to go to work. On the weekends I stand in various arenas and watch this or that child play hockey. I don't *DO* anything. I'm noticing my flabby self more and more and while vanity isn't enough inspiration to make me do anything drastic about the flab, I'm honestly worried about how unhealthy I am.

I have no excuses. I have the time - oodles of time. The kids go to bed at 8. I'm normally awake until 10:30/11:00. I'm not entertaining my husband who has abandonned me to his studies. I'm lucky if I spent 10 minutes talking with him during the week. We communicate via text message it seems. I no longer do any extra-curriculars because there is no one to watch the children. Daniel took my computer apart to "fix it" three weeks ago and it has gone the way of most Daniel projects. I have accepted that I may never use it again. So I sit by myself or -- more accurately -- lie by myself and watch television. My excuse is that I'm tired at that point in the day. Poppycock!

Yesterday, my right-brain whined about exhaustion while my left-brain forced me to get on with it. I cleaned off the treadmill, re-arranged the TV and took a walk while watching Law and Order. Not bad at all. It wasn't particularly strenuous (it wasn't meant to be) and after 40 minutes I was reluctant to stop BUT, since I haven't exercised in many moons, I thought it prudent not to overdo it. My left-brain will hopefully win the arguement once again this evening and I will walk for the duration of one TV drama. If I'm going to waste time watching TV, I might as well do it on the treadmill. With some determination I could easily walk (or even run!) an hour or two a night.

Go left-brain!

Late

Today is my day to get into work early so that I can leave early to meet the kid's school bus after school. I both look forward to and dread these days. I LOVE getting home just before 4 in the afternoon. It's heavenly (so much so that I told Daniel that after my parents return in 10 days or so I want to keep up our current routine) but I don't do the early mornings well. I'm not the type to lie in bed until noon but I just don't do early really well. Climbing out of bed at 6 am while the rest of the family sleeps (it's much easier if I have company; 6:00 am hockey practice isn't as hard) is really difficult for me. I'm thankful that as Spring nears the days are lengthening and I'm no longer leaving for work in the dark. Lately I've been cheating a little. I'm supposed to be here around 7:30 but no one is here then. Generally no one is here until MUCH closer to 9:00. No one knows when I arrive so shhhhhhhhhhhh....... I'm late... A LOT. 7:40... 7:45. Will do better.

On the good news front - no more hives (just as I was beginning to accept them as a miserable but permanent part of life). There is a bad news side to this as well though. The hives seem to have gone away when I started my birth control rest week. Now I know part of this was hormonal because the hives were always MUCH milder in the morning and I was tormented in the early evening - a definite cycle. I don't know if it was the birth control (which I've been on since early in the fall) itself causing the hives or the hormonal cycle that I've now broken with the rest week. I really like this form of birth control (the Nuva Ring); I don't want to have to try another. I need to put another in on Friday. Hopefully the hives won't return.

When I was just a little boy. I asked my mother, "What will I be?"

Sam wants to be an Olympic athlete. That sentence doesn't do his enthusiasm about his new life goal justice at all. He is REALLY into the Olympics. When Kamryn was small I used to show her stuff on TV - figure skating, dance, gymnastics, people singing etc. in the hope of awakening some inner desire and hidden talent of hers. Those stories people tell of their grown uber-successful children... Oh she saw x on TV when she was small and begged for lessons in Y and now look how successful she is. Kamryn? Not all that interested or enthusiastic about anything I showed her. After a while I accepted the reality that was my life and my child and we stopped this ridiculousness (I admit it was ridiculous but can't a Mom dream?).

Sam though - he's enthusiastic about everything. He bubbles over in pure enthusiasm. There is no halfway. He's easy to motivate; he's certain he can do ANYTHING (aside from getting two happy faces from school; that he equates with the impossible). He would have encouraged my deluded parental brain had I tried the Kamryn-tactic with him but alas I gave that up. On Tuesday I watched Olympic snowcross after work. Kamryn was doing homework; Sam was buzzing about when Canada won a medal. You would have thought Sam knew the winner personally. he kept bouncing off the couch and running to the TV to point the medal winner out to me, her fans, and her parents. The broadcasters were kind enough to keep changing the scene and he had to describe everyone anew each and every time the scene changed. He was so excited. It was very cute.

He was filled with questions and ideas. "I want to learn to do that. When can I try that? Can 5-year-olds be in the Limpics? Would we come to see him in the Limpics?" Poor child. I didn't have the heart to tell him he was never going to be in the Limpics. While he has some incredible athletic talents; he has the wrong parents.

We'll drive him to practices. We'll sign him up for sports. We'll pay for equipment. We'll stand in the rain, snow and sleet and cheer mightily. But we won't push him when he may need pushing. We won't encourage him to abandon one sport to focus all his energies on another. We won't mine his college fund to pay for power skating, and winter soccer conditioning, and summers at sports camps. We won't rearrange our family life around training and competitive team schedules. And no we won't allow him to leave home at 15 and move halfway across the country to play in the junior leagues. Just not our lifestyle choice. To be honest, I don't understand how it can be anyone's lifestyle choice. Right now my big fear is that at seven he will be selected to play Novice A hockey (he's playing at the "A level" in the initiation program he's in now) because I'm pretty certain that the parents of the other A-level players will annoy me too much (I'm way to laissez-faire as a hockey parent).

We love him dearly and want him to reach his full potential but just can't imagine living that way. And I don't understand the people that do (We have close friends that did that; their son was an okay hockey player who made it into Junior A hockey and never any farther. In the end he had nothing.) I guess we're content to be ordinary because we truly believe we are. I'm just not a chance taker. When I look at the odds (and they are pretty abysmal) about making it in any sport (even just as far as a middling sports scholarship) opting to be ordinary just seems to be the logical choice. So he's probably not going to the Limpics. He's probably going to be a good high school athlete who earns some extra money on the side coaching little kids on weekends and during the summer. Then again I also swore up and down not three years ago that my kids would never play hockey.

So maybe... I wonder where the Olympics will be in 2022?

...Que sera, sera...

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.