The onset of winter means a lot of things...early sunsets, blankets of clean white snow, pretty ice-encrusted tree branches, and sadly, hawked up phlegm all over sidewalks and parking lots wherever you go. Is there anyone other than me that is totally grossed out by this? In trying to get from the door of the grocery store to my car in the parking lot this morning, I felt as though I was navigating through a mine field. Because here is my dilemma: Do I keep my head up, and then avoid seeing all the puddles of...stuff (but risk walking blindly through it), or do I keep my eyes on the ground (BLECH) and my shoes clean by skirting the nasties?
I suppose people are just generally more productive over the winter, but holy cow. Try a decongestant, for crying out loud.
Happy New Year! I realize that's a little lame, considering we're looking at February in another 24 hours or so. Although it was Chinese New Year on Monday, so maybe i'll just impress all 5 of you who read this blog with how culturally relevant i am.
I have missed my blog, but it's been hard to find the energy for it. Christmas was wonderful, but i have to say that it pretty much sucked the life out of me, and i spent as many days of Christmas break in my pajamas as i possibly could. And then i spent the first few weeks in January scrambling to catch up with everything work-related. If i was to summarize my activities over the past month or so in just a few words, my list would look something like this: work, pharmacy, school, pharmacy, work, groceries, pharmacy, laundry, work, school... you get the idea. And of course, there's FACF (Fish and Chip Friday), my weekly excursion to Captain George's to pick up dinner for my parents. Oh, George. Why do you not deliver?
But enough about all that. Blah, blah, blah...I'm busy. Who isn't?
We are getting ready for Lauren to go to Quebec on Sunday for her skiing/snowboarding trip. She's beyond excited, and i'm trying not to hyperventilate about the thought of her driving 6 hours away from me. Well, that and the image of her hurtling down a mountain on a couple of fibreglass sticks. Oh man. Get me a paper bag.
In other news, Lauren has started guitar lessons, which she is finding to be great fun. And it looks like it will be a 2-for-1 deal, because Will is watching what she does on it and teaching himself.
Those are probably our most exciting news items at the moment. Although I did get a new cell phone. Interestingly, mine was recalled because it didn't meet the required safety standards. What was likely to happen? Maybe it would pinch my finger a little too aggressively as i flipped it closed? Make prank calls without my knowledge? Whatever the reason, it was a good deal for me, since i wound up with a nicer phone, complete with camera and MP3 player. So now i'll spend all my spare time listening to music and taking pictures of myself making funny faces to post on Facebook. ;)
1. The sweating 2. Snow that sticks to the shovel 3. Bits of driveway that stick to the shovel 4. The sweating 5. Steamed up glasses 6. Neighbours who stand around chatting as they watch you clear not only your driveway, but also your decrepit elderly neighbour's driveway 7. The drowned rat 'do i'm always sporting by the time i'm done 8. The sweating
Yeah, i realize that's only 8, but i'm too tired from shoveling to list anymore. So sue me. ;)
Eleven years ago tonight, I was in labour.Lauren’s birth was the only one of my three that occurred without any jumpstarting.I was induced with Will because he was 10 days late, and I was induced 2 days before Emma’s due date because she was bound to be late like the others.As a side note, all of my kids were born on a Sunday, and all on or around some kind of holiday weekend.In actual fact, Lauren’s birthday technically fell on a Monday, since she was born on the stroke of midnight.But whatever. We were just glad she wasn’t born in the van.Because she almost was.
I had been to my OB on the Friday, 10 days past my due date.He gave me the good news that absolutely NOTHING was going on, and said that he’d bring me in to induce me on Monday. So I spent Saturday and Sunday doing the nesting thing, washing everything in site and making sure I had everything I was going to need.On Sunday night I even took my stroller apart to clean it, and it was about then that I realized that the cramps I’d been feeling for an hour or so were actually contractions.I told Darren that I thought maybe I was in labour, and he of course wanted to go to the hospital immediately (about 25-30 minutes away).However, I figured I had time to finish my laundry, and so I just kept hollering “THERE’S ANOTHER ONE” every time I had a contraction.I can still remember him saying to me “That couldn’t have been another one already…it’s only been about 10 minutes since the last one”, and I said “BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT WAS A CONTRACTION”.
Long story short, we eventually got on our way, after first dropping Will off at my parents’ house (and picking up Kimberly).I remember sitting at a red light across from the hospital and noticing that I was shaking.I said to Darren and Kimberly “hmm…I think I may be further along than I thought”.Uh, yeah.I got wheeled around to Labour and Delivery while Darren did the registration thing in the ER, and when the nurse examined me, she said “oooh, you’re 8.5 cm.Won’t be long now!”.I said (foolishly) “I’ll still have time for my epidural, RIGHT?”.Ha.My water broke about 20 seconds later and everything went into overdrive.Poor Kimberly had the door slammed in her face and my father-in-law had to run and grab Darren from the ER so that he wouldn’t miss it.And the whole time, I was lying on the bed saying “uh…I don’t think I can do it without the drugs.How about some Demerol, even?”.They pretty much ignored me.
Fortunately, Lauren popped out after a push or two, and all was well.It’s so funny to us that Lauren didn’t wait to be induced, but came all on her own.That is so totally her personality.She has always been a go-getter type.She wanted to do things all by herself and was tying her shoes before her 4th birthday.When she was tiny, she had definite ideas about the clothes she wanted to wear and would put together some fairly mind-boggling ensembles. She’s never been particularly shy, and I have some hilarious video of her sitting on the stage at Will’s nursery school graduation.He didn’t want to sit up there, and so she seized the opportunity when I was looking the other way.
Lauren is like my right hand.If I need something done, she’s the person to ask. Quite often I’ll be scrambling to finish some work in the morning, and Lauren will get up and get herself ready for school, and then she runs around and pours cereal for the others and helps Emma get her snack ready, brings agendas to be signed, etc, etc.She’s sweet and affectionate and nurturing and hilarious.She loves to play Rock Band with Will, and still plays babies and barbies with Emma.She has her huffy, snit fit moments, and we have had to outlaw any trading of personal belongings between her and Emma, since it inevitably leads to a knock-down-drag-out when somebody won’t trade back.But she really is a fantastic kid.
I love the promises God makes in Isaiah 43, and my prayer for Lauren is that she will always know that she is the Lord’s:
But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
Isaiah 43:1-2
(The first picture of Lauren is from kindergarten...if my scanner was working i'd have put up a baby picture. How cute was she there, really? The others were taken within the past year.)
Several times as I've come down the off-ramp at the Kennedy Road exit from the 401, there has been a young guy standing at the intersection with a piece of cardboard in his hands. You've probably seen something similar. The face is different, but the same sad story is on the cardboard: NO JOB. NO MONEY. WIFE AND KIDS TO SUPPORT. Or something along those lines. A cardboard testimony, of sorts.
A few months ago, my sister sent me a video on Facebook, and I watched it again just the other day and was moved by it all over again. Real church people sharing their cardboard testimonies...who they were before Christ, and who they have become because of His grace. I love the honesty of it. I think we spend so much time trying to hide things from people, giving the impression that we have it all together. I know do it.
Here's the video. Go ahead and watch it. I'll wait.
We don't all have dramatic testimonies, like being a meth addict or a cancer survivor. But we are all the same because we need Him to change us. I saw myself in some of those testimonies, and it made me wonder what I would write on my own piece of cardboard. This is what I came up with:
Tonight was our Meet the Teacher BBQ at school. Is there anyone who really looks forward to these evenings? Don't get me wrong...it's not that I'm not interested in meeting the teacher, or seeing how the kids are doing so far. They're always so proud to show us their classrooms, and to introduce us to their teachers. We like that part. We don't mind squatting on the grass to eat our burgers, and we've learned to dress properly for the always steamy book fair in the library.
Basically, we just get somewhat irritated by the other parents. You know the ones, right? The keeners who nab the teacher for 15 minutes, even though the classroom is FULL of parents waiting to talk to her. Or the ones who holler at each other across the library while about 80 of us sweat all over our purchases in the the checkout line and listen to them discuss what shirt Connor was wearing in the photo montage. But this is not a post about that. So i'll stop there and do a little shamless bragging, instead.
It was a pretty good night. The teachers had nice things to say, and the kids are all doing great work, so we were happy. I was feeling a little sheepish about meeting Will's teacher because of a project he finished a week or so ago. Each student had to design a coat of arms, complete with a family motto. Will had asked for our help with the motto part, and I had laughingly suggested "Better out than in". Well, guess what he used:
Yep. We're all about bathroom humor around here. I laughed at Will's friend's motto, which was "What could possibly go wrong?".
Will also did an assignment about himself called "I am". Darren and I really liked it, because it was witty and smart, and totally him. I liked it so much that I decided to share it with you:
I am
I am smart and funny I wonder about gravity I hear everybody talking really loud-ish I see myself as an engineer I want unlimited food and video games I am smart and funny
I pretend to play guitar I feel hungry all the time I touch invisible stuff I worry that Pluto will randomly explode I cry when I cut onions I am smart and funny
I understand Santa isn't real (sob) I say good shows shouldn't be cancelled I dream that I'm super strong and can beat everyone up (even Arnold Schwarzenegger) I try to push myself wherever possible I hope I get good marks on my report card (wink wink Miss P!) I am smart and funny
This is Lauren displaying the autobiography she's been working on. So cute! The work displayed on the wall in the background included some more info about each kid, including their goals and dreams. Lauren had put down that she wants to be a teacher one day, which didn't surprise us. But what did surprise us was the section called "My Hero", which turned out to be US. She said that we always protect her when she gets scared and we help her with her everyday problems. Sweet, right?
This is a painting Emma did about home. The caption says "A house is a safe place and a cozy place". I love it . I like how she has really, really long legs in the picture. (I think the little short person next to her is her friend Omer. He made the little cutout person, and she stuck it on.) Emma's goal for the month in her classroom was to chat less. hahaha!
A highlight of the night for me was when one of the teachers mistook me for a student! Okay, he was probably just beeing nice and in all likelihood needs glasses, but still! I'll take it. =)
My friend Michelle says that we are the Sandwich Generation...people caught between their aging parents and young children. And I have to say quite frankly that that is how I feel a lot of the time...caught.
The past few weeks have been exhausting. The kids are back at school and are starting piano lessons and swimming lessons and Tuesday night church stuff, and all of that makes for a busy week. But then you factor in a few appointments for the parents, to say nothing of taking them to the ER, picking up prescriptions at the drugstore, doing their grocery shopping or updating bankbooks (all of which we have done in the past 7-10 days), and you have yourself a whole different ballgame. Mom really hates to drive now, and Dad has told me that he actually doesn't like to drive with her. (Apparently Mom likes the outside lane A LOT, to the point that she's driving on the shoulder from time to time.) So I have become their designated driver and official senior-citizen-hauler to their various appointments. Except that sometimes it fees like I'm out with my kids, rather than my parents.
Yesterday Dad had pulmonary function tests here in Oshawa. So I had to go out to Bowmanville and pick them up, and then bring them back in for the appointment. I dropped them off at the entrance and gave them specific instructions about taking the green elevators down one floor. I dashed off to park the car, telling them that I would meet them downstairs. When I found them in the waiting room, I was relieved to see that they'd made it, and asked whether they'd had any trouble. Turns out they had been up to the floor where the babies are, and then somewhere else before finally making it down to the basement level WHERE I TOLD THEM TO GO.
So we're sitting in the hall waiting for Dad's turn, and Mom keeps making references to what we did when we were here last time, and whether this was the same place we went to the last time, etc., even though Dad and I kept telling her that we hadn't been to this place before. She finally says "Well, I'm sure we HAVE been here before, because that door (pointing at it) looks VERY familiar to me!" At which point I was fed up and said "Maybe it just looks familiar to you from when you saw it 5 MINUTES AGO when you were taking a grand tour of the place."
But then we're finally done and on our way out. I tell them that I will run on ahead and get the car and then meet them at the MAIN ENTRANCE. I say to Mom "Follow this green line to the blue elevator over there and take it up ONE FLOOR ONLY. Then go around to the main entrance." So of course, I end up sitting out front waiting and waiting and waiting for them. After zipping around to the other entrance to make sure that they weren't waiting at the wrong door, I come back just as they are coming out the front doors. I asked them where they'd been and Mom said "Where HAVEN'T we been?". Appparently they rode the elevator for a few minutes, got off again in the basement and then somehow managed to make it to the main floor, and eventually to the front entrance. I'm exhausted just thinking about it all over again.
Two minutes into the drive home, and Mom gets her keys out...jingle jingle jingle. We still have a stop to make along our 20 minute ride home (jingle jingle jingle), but let's get those keys out so that we're ready to unlock the front door the instant the car rolls to a stop in the driveway. Here's something you should know about me: I have a really low tolerance for fiddly noises like that. You can ask my kids...we have coined the word fissiling, as in WHO THE HECK IS FISSILING THAT PLASTIC BAG BACK THERE???
I don't know which was worse...the jingle jingle of the keys, or Mom psyching herself up to change her PIN number at the bank (our last stop before home). Every 2 minutes, I'd hear some variation of the following:
"OK, so I just say to them (jingle jingle jingle) that I need to choose a new PIN number for my card."
"Yes, Mom."
"And then I just choose my password." jingle jingle jingle
"Yes, Mom."
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. OH MAN. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or just grab those keys and hurl them out the window.
I love my parents dearly, and I realize that getting old can't be much fun, especially when you lose your independence. Dad would love to be able to drive himself wherever he needs to go, and to have the energy and abilities that he used to have. Mom has a whole anxiety thing going on that we haven't figured out yet, and she doesn't want to do a lot of the things she used to do. So I find myself talking to them like I do my kids...reassuring them, comforting them, encouraging them, and occasionally nagging at them to stop their squabbling or put on their seatbelts. Some days, the sandwich seems like a nice turkey with mayo, lettuce and tomato on a yummy croissant. Other days it's more like the one I found in Will's lunch box last week (left there since the end of June)...green and fuzzy and totally gag-inducing. I guess I'll settle for somewhere in between.
