**Superstitions

Some days I feel that I may need to be institutionalized for my superstitious-ness. I am a superstitious person and I believe in fate and all that hokey pokey stuff. I make a wish and kiss something red if when I look at the clock, all the numbers are the same. I wish on the first star I see at night, prefacing it with "star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight". I knock on wood (or my head, whichever is more convenient), and I even avoid stepping over my kids to make sure they'll grow, and if I accidentally step over them, I will step back the other way to reverse the bad karma. There are some things I won't do, however, like avoiding walking under ladders, and if I break a mirror, I don't fret over bad luck for seven years.

I do fully believe in fate, and if something happens to me that I find to be a really crappy, unfair thing, I honestly believe that there is a reason that it happened. I believe that when people walk into a casino, if they are meant to win, they'll win, and if not, they won't - regardless of what seat they sit in or what slot machine they choose and when.

When we were first entering the real estate market and put an offer in on a condo that fell through, I was devastated. It seemed like the perfect place for us and I felt as though we'd never find anything else as great. Well we did - we found a less expensive, larger, better located place that we DID get and lived in happily for years. It was meant to be.

Just know that if ever I wish upon a star, or make a wish blowing out birthday candles, it is always the same wish, and will be the same wish forever....but I can't tell you what that wish is, or else it won't come true! :-)

**Why I Hate Dec.31

Would it be plagiarism if I were to launch into a Paul Reiser moment? If I use quotation marks could I recite an episode of "Mad About You"? Is that allowed? Screw permissions! NEW YEARS IS A ONE SECOND HOLIDAY! All of this fuss and muss is made over a one second celebration! Food costs more, you have to pay to get into everything, and lord help you if you want to have a drink! Um, do I hear someone saying "second mortgage"?

I have a poor track record with New Year's Eve, but I don't feel that it has skewed my insight into this hideous freckle-of-a-moment every year that people put so much emphasis on. People stay up past their bedtimes to scream, blow horns, kiss someone in front of hundreds of other people, say 'happy new year', then go home and go to bed. I'm all for saying "Happy New Year" to your family and friends, but how about doing it at a reasonable hour with no horns or screaming? How's that for refined living?

I have a few single friends and family members who insist on not being alone on New Year's Eve, and they think that it's not a big deal for me because I "have" someone...well honestly, does it matter that I "have" someone when the ball drops in Times Square and I have already been asleep for three hours? I can say with complete and utter confidence that December 31st and January 1st are regular days to me - other than the fact that I need to remember to write '08 instead of '07 on my patient's charts.

**New Years Resolution

I'm glad I'm not a professional writer. The task of being REQUIRED to write something and not feeling inspired is terrifying to me. I love to write. I feel exhilarated at the idea of people reading my writing, but I must admit that I feel pressure to be enjoyable. There is nothing worse (okay, there are worse things, but go with me on this one) than sitting down to read an excerpt that you expect to be entertaining and it falling short. I hope I don't disappoint, though I know in my moments of sheer boring-ness, I likely do.

So my new year's resolution - the only one I vow to make because I don't really believe in new year's resolutions - is to blog more often. Even if it is a teeny tidbit from my day that I wish to reflect on or share, I hope to come through with this promise.

My blog is loosely based on two people's blogs. You have to promise not to laugh, okay? The first one is Lisa Brandt. She is a radio personality and a newspaper writer. Her blogs are always so witty and entertaining - and she always finds something to say. Her style of writing did inspire me, and though hubby does laugh at me for being a 'fan' of a radio news anchor from 680 news, I insist that her style of writing inspires me and entertains me concurrently.

The second blog of inspiration is Rosie O'Donnell. QUIT THAT LAUGHING! So I'm a fan, okay? I admit it. I was even on her show TWICE. I won't even try to get into why I enjoy her and her blog because there are too many Rosie skeptics in this world and I don't even want to go there.

So check back often. I'll try to be here.

**Funny Tidbits

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but I have been experiencing motivational difficulties. I figured I'd bring some holiday cheer by sharing some funny quotes my children have said over the years. Sorry for the lack of personal touch by using "daughter" and "son", but I'm paranoid lately!!

***
Daughter: "Do you think Santa wears something different in the summer? Cause he'd get pretty hot in that!"
***
Mommy: "This game says 5+ but you're doing so well!"
Daughter: "Yeah, that's cause I'm a smart 4."
***
Son is looking at the calendar. "The one-th of January says New Years"
***
Daddy to Son as he's picking his nose: "Do you need a kleenex?"
Son: "Not anymore!"
***
Daughter sees a fly in the cottage: "Let's dead it!!"
***
Daughter: "I got a boo boo and I have an animal band-aid"
Mommy: "Where's the boo boo?"
Daughter: "Under the band-aid!"
***
Son keeps saying "excuse me I farted" so Mommy says "you don't have to say the 'farted' part, you can just say 'excuse me'", so Son switches to saying "Excuse me, I."
***
Daughter: "when I grow up I'm going to be an art-er"
***
Daughter is talking about missing her great grandmother who died and asks: "can we leave a message on her answering machine in heaven?"
***
Daughter sees a convertible for the first time and says: "Mommy! A broken car!"
***
With family over for dinner, Son walks into the kitchen naked. Trying to get him to put on underwear, Daddy says: "but you have to wear SOMETHING!", and Son replies: "But I'm wearing socks!!"
***
Son: "How can Santa's sleigh fly without wings and a propeller?"
***
Daughter stubs her toe: "Mommy! I hurt my socks!"
***
Filling up Son's bike tires at the gas station he asks what it says on the air pump sign.
Mommy: "Free air"
(Son thinks for a while)
Son: "Is that cause I'm free?" (aka three)
***
Mommy has a lady bug on her pants that's not moving.
Son: "Mommy! It's not working!"

**Unfair

It just doesn't seem fair that I woke up, asked my children about their dreams, went to work, came home, picked up my kids from school, read stories, made dinner with 4 little hands helping me, ate as a family, bathed and tucked them into their beds, and there are two small children who came home from school today to find their mother had died in her bed ten minutes after they left for school this morning.

How is that fair?

I know I sound like a broken record, but I can't help but feel lucky. Multiple times every single day I look at my life and am thankful for all I have. The downside is that I think I'm actually waiting for the day that the crisis will hit MY family. I have seen too many crises and somewhere deep down inside of me, I fully expect that one day something like that will happen to someone I love (G-d forbid). I'm not sure this is healthy. I spend so much time thinking about the things I am blessed with that I believe I live in fear that it will be taken away from me one day.

The emotional toll that comes along with my job, some days, is very difficult to bear. In the moment, and even shortly after, I'm okay, but hours or days or weeks later after my mind has wrapped around the enormity of the moments I had been a part of, it affects me profoundly. Sometimes it feels like there are wires tethered to my brain and the other end of the wire is tethered to the ground, pulling my mind down physically and emotionally. It is hard to snap out of, but I do. I'm not sure what kind of a different person I'd be if I had a different job, never being exposed to this type of grief and suffering. Would I be a happier person? Would I look younger and more vibrant? Would I have more energy?

Unfortunately at this point I don't have the liberty to leave my job and find out, though I do often wonder if I did, would it help or hinder me. There is an element of positivity in being thankful for every moment. You love more, cherish more, even force yourself to enjoy more. But who would I have become had I been an accountant or even worked at McDodalds? Would I be the same ME? I don't think so, and I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing.

**Terrible news

On a cool, crisp day in November while feeling great with myself for crossing something off my "to do" list, I was hit with news that I had no idea would affect me so much.

Prior to getting poked with a flu shot, with my 5 year old sitting on my lap trembling, I was told by the wonderfully gentle public health nurse - who also works at our pediatrician's office - that our spectacularly competent, confident, beautifully kind, caring pediatrician is getting married and moving away. The practice is being given to another physician.

Dr. K. has been a savior to us. In my profession, I have had the displeasure of working with countless arrogant, ill-informed, narcissistic, incompetent doctors, and I have always felt so incredibly lucky to have a doctor for myself and hubby that I trust, and even more importantly, the most wonderfully thorough and shockingly current doctor for my children.

When my son was 2 1/2 he got what could have been a life-threatening infection in his knee joint. Dr. K. worked so quickly and efficiently, knew precisely what to do, and acted on the matter so quickly that we prevented the spread of the infection to the bone and my boy was home and running around again in 3 days.

Over the next few months, while the frequent check-ups were draining for us, my little man and his doctor who saved him, developed a wonderful relationship. He had been scared of the doctor, as many kids are, with the needles and sickness and stress that he surely felt coming from the adults, but by the time he was deemed cured, him and Dr. K had the utmost admiration for one another. She'd take him in the stairwell of the building to see him walking the stairs to make sure his knee was healing okay, and he thought it was a game, they would play "Simon says" and have him jump up and down. Most importantly however, she followed up so vigilantly and got us the care we needed within hours of symptoms occurring, and she prevented permanent damage to his knee, or even worse possible outcomes.

She seems to be light-years ahead of many other doctors in every-day illnesses as well. When my daughter got strep throat, she called us in the midst of her antibiotic treatment to switch to a different antibiotic because some kids in her practice were having relapses after using this particular drug with this particular infection. She prevented a recurrence by being proactive. Two months later on the evening news, they reported on the findings that strep infections in children weren't responding to conventional antibiotics as they had in the past.

We don't visit her often, but when we do, it is because we need her. It is so priceless - especially with how much I know, which is sometimes more of a curse than a blessing - to have that safety net there for your children. To know that if that day comes (which hopefully never will) when you need someone to help your child, she will be there, and she will absolutely do the right thing. Without that, to me, parenting seems more difficult. I tense up when I think that my safety net will be in Owen Sound. And as she passes the torch to another doctor I well-up inside. I hope it never happens again that we need her skill and precision, but if it did and she wasn't there, I cringe at the thought of what could happen...what could have happened to my boy had Dr. K. not been there.

**The good ol' days

I'm trying to figure out how my life has become so busy. In the last couple of months my family has gone from trying to find things to do to keep busy, to trying to find time to take a shower because that 10 minutes is difficult to schedule in a day. What changed? Our calendar used to have a couple of appointments/activities/playdates, but now we're running out of room on most of those impossibly tiny squares.

I'm not really sure that I'm complaining because afterall, I am a person who thrives on being busy, and it is very nice to be surrounded by such a large volume of happy plans, but my views have shifted. I used to look at a blank calendar day and think "oh great...what the heck are we going to do? Will it be warm enough to go to the park? Do I have energy to venture to the Science Centre? Maybe it will be a walk around the mall and looking at the toy department at Zellers"... And now I see a blank day...well, that's a lie, there really aren't any, but if I DID stumble upon one, I would smile. A day to just *BE*.

Between kindergarten, swimming lessons, gymnastics classes, playdates, appointments, meetings, working and cooking (well, ordering), it's hard to find time to breathe. I can't even imagine what it will be like when the kids are in separate extracurricular activity classes, have separate friends and make separate plans. We will need an industrial-sized calendar.

Hubby commented that while trick-or-treating this year he realized that a year or two ago he spent countless hours walking around the neighbourhood, pushing a stroller and encouraging a toddler to walk. Now the area is foreign again as a walk around the neighbourhood would have to be scheduled a month in advance!

Some days I feel proud to provide my children with such a rich, full life filled with friends, family and fun, but some days I see how it is good too to have hours and hours to just let them play with toys, make up games, read some books, colour some pictures, and just make their own entertainment - the kind that doesn't need to be written in a calendar.

**Birthday Ideas

In the past few weeks I have fielded many questions regarding my "big" birthday coming up.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"We should do something for your birthday - what do you want to do?"

"What should I tell people if they ask what you want?"

While I have answered these questions in a politically correct manner - "nothing, I dunno, nothing" - I must get this off my chest. What do you expect me to say?? "Well actually, I would like a Wii, a vacation to Hawaii with daily spa treatments, three days in a hotel with a tv, magazines, my computer and room-service, and a trip to New York City staying in a hotel in Times Square with tickets to a different Broadway show every night".

Realistically what I want for my birthday (though the above would not be turned away), is to be happy. That doesn't need to be with gifts or outings or parties - but whatever we do or however we do it, I want to feel happy. Yes, gifts are great and I appreciate them - nights out are fun and memorable, but whatever it is, don't do it or say it out of obligation. I really do not care if I get a hug and a card or e-mail with kind words. That is just as special to me as anything else. I want to know that you spent some emotional time and energy thinking about something you thought would make me smile.

My good friend turned 30 last December and I had no clue what to do for her. After much deliberation I ended up writing out a nice, meaningful card about our relationship, and I took her to a spa for a facial, manicure and pedicure, then out for dinner. I have to admit that I did benefit from the spa treatment as well, but that's not the point. I have no idea if she loved it or just said that she did, but I did my best. I tried to make it different than other birthday presents of a new purse, perfume, etc...and honestly I got the impression that she would have preferred that exotic new purse, but I tried. I did what I hoped would be done for me - something to make the day nothing like the other 364 that year.

I am not planning my own party, giving out lists of gift ideas...that is not me, and to be completely frank, the fact that you are asking me for ideas is enough to make me feel special. So thank you for brightening my coming birthday!

**I'm turning 30

Thirty is a big number. It starts with a three afterall. It's half way to senior citizenship, twice a young teenager. All of these things being said, and the fact that I probably should feel old, this upcoming birthday makes me feel younger. I feel like I should be turning 40, yet when I realize I've got ten more years before then, it makes me feel good.

I suppose it could be looked upon as sad that I feel 10 years older than I am, but I don't think it's sad...just the way it is. I had to grow up fast as a kid, and I have done a lot for a 30 year old. Put it all together and in my opinion, I should be 40.

So my birthday makes me feel young, and to celebrate I am doing something very immature. I am getting a tattoo. I am tattooing my children's names on my ankle with a flower on my foot. They'll always be my kids, you only turn 30 once, and why not permanently mark the occasion? I wanted to tattoo their names on me for years now, just didn't have the guts to do it. So now that this birthday is coming up and making me feel younger, I'm gonna live a little!

To be honest I have had very few positive reactions to my selfish birthday present. Hubby doesn't like the idea, my mom just shakes her head at me and sighs, but I have a couple of supporters and they are coming with me to hold my hand and wipe my tears as thousands of needles pierce my flesh so close to my bones. Nothing marks a big birthday like some blood, sweat and tears! Wish me luck and think of me at 4:30 on Tuesday!

**Allergies

Considering I have been blog-less for 3 weeks now, things have been building in my head. The ideas fall on top of one another creating this mountain of sentences - each of which would make a wonderful blog - but helping no one by remaining stagnant. I need to purge. I must empty my mountain of random thoughts in order to get on with my blog life. There may be multiple blog entries coming up. Stay tuned.

I have a serious disability. I am not happy about this one bit, but I am allergic to clutter. If I see clutter I begin to sweat, my blood pressure increases, my heart races, my mind becomes foggy, a headache even emerges. I have been this way since I was a child - though I'm pretty sure it's not genetic because my kids show absolutely no signs of this allergy (darn). In high school if I had any significant amount of school work to do, I had to clean my room first - before I sat down at my desk. It may have begun as a method of procrastination now that I think about it, but it certainly is not now.

All I ask is that things be put away where they belong - not just SOME things, but ALL things. Why bother cleaning if you only put 80% of the stuff away? There's a polly pocket dress on the counter, a tube of toothpaste on the stairs, a stack of random papers the height of my daughter in the basement and 4 pencils on the couch. Sure a thousand other things were put away, but why not EVERYTHING?

Today I found coupons that expired in 2005 under the cutlery tray in the kitchen, a floorball stick in my front hall closet that hasn't been used since June and likely won't be used ever again, and my son's box for his indoor shoes from last year on a shelf at the door. I just don't get why we can't just put things away that we're not using - throw them out if they're garbage! It's not like we're living in some mansion with 5 other hall closets to fill up with things that actually GO in closets! We have limited space for crap that is generated by four people.

I feel euphoric when everything is where it goes. When I can walk into my house, my car, my closet and know that things are where they go it's like a breath of fresh air. NOW I can be productive, happy, even fun! NOW that things are put away.


**Disclaimer** Clutter in other people's houses has no effect on my allergy. I am unaffected by clutter in any other environment.

**Green

I'm feeling a little green; somewhat Kermit-like. It's not easy being green you know. Today for the first time in over 1800 days (don't pull out the calculator, I'll just tell you that it's five years), 216 weeks, 43,000 hours, hubby returned to work. My brood is growing, in big-kid school now 3 days a week, and it was either hubby return to work or have to attack my list of home renovations that even the crew of Holmes on Homes would run screaming from.

My world as I knew it has folded, and for the first time in my life, schedules must be juggled, my responsibilities are completely changed, and worst of all...I HAVE TO COOK! Neighbours beware, I may need to use my oven. Hubby joked that he'll teach me how to cook 2 things and I can switch back and forth between the two. Don't laugh - he was serious.

I'm not sure how I feel about it. Depends on the moment you ask me, as my answer has been changing minute to minute. At first I was excited. I pushed him to find some work, knowing that my renovations aren't necessary and are just a fall-back project in case it would be too hard to find part-time positions in his line of work. I thought it would be great to have the extra money, pay off the mortgage that much faster. My wild fantasies of living mortgage free were dancing through my head like the Sugarplum Fairy! Then when he got offered a job, panic set in. What if I got delayed at work and I couldn't pick the kids up from school? What will we do if the kids are sick and need to stay home from school? What about school trips? Daddy always went on the trips. Then I started to feel sad. I always prided myself on the fact that we made our family work financially and emotionally with Mommy and Daddy both so actively involved. With my work hours as they are, we picked our kids up from school together, played in the park together, always ate dinner together, were both there for tuck-ins at night, the mornings weren't rushed to get everyone out the door (though I counted how many times we said "finish your breakfast already!" in one morning and I'm too ashamed to publish that number). Now I am in acceptance. Daddy is still actively involved, he just may miss dinner a couple of days a week. I'll manage to not starve my children or burn down my house, the laundry and cleaning will still get done, albeit in a slightly more tardy manner, and our kids will still be well-rounded, happy children even if some things are changing. Hubby feels good back in the workforce, and I have to admit that it feels kinda nice to pick up the kids from school and do our own thing for a bit.

This must sound terribly selfish to people who have not been living in a world of one stay-at-home parent for the last 5 years, but you have to trust me on this one. It is a big change for us. We will be fine, we will survive, even thrive I'm sure, but it has been a bit of a foggy week, though I'm sure it will clear. Tomorrow is a new day and hopefully I'll feel a bit less green.

"It's not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold
Or something much more colorful like that

It's not easy being green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over 'cause you're
Not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
Or stars in the sky

But green's the color of Spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like an ocean, or important
Like a mountain, or tall like a tree

When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why
Wonder, I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful
And I think it's what I want to be"

--Kermit the Frog

**Facebook

What is up with facebook? I first signed up out of curiosity when a friend commented on it in passing. Then I began to find it creepy. Voyeuristic even. I heard of people who checked their facebook e-mail more than their regular e-mail. These people have over 200 "friends"-but how many are really friends?? I have to say it has done some good things for me, and I admit to encouraging others to sign up. I have reconnected with a few people on a genuine basis, most superficially.

I believe there are four categories of facebook friends and I am willing to patent my idea of splitting them up for the website. My fee is large for this ingenious idea.

Category #1 would be the friends who you haven't spoken to in years, you reconnected with them and are genuinely happy about it.

Category #2 would be the ones who you were interested in knowing where they ended up in life, you found out, and now you have nothing to do with them-other than a notch in your "facebook belt".

Category #3: Those who added you as a friend, you can barely remember who they are or where you know them from, but you add them in hopes of figuring it out by looking at their profile.

Category #4: Friends you have always spoken to on a regular basis but now have a whole different way of communicating. You live two doors away from eachother, talk on the phone 18 times a day but still have to message and poke eachother back and forth on facebook.

I recently ran in to a category #2 friend (interested in knowing where they ended up in life, found out, and now have nothing to do with them). It was odd to run into someone I hadn't seen since highschool yet knew all about, had seen pictures of her kids, family and friends, and now am standing face to face actually talking to her. I was pleasantly surprised. Turns out a category #2 has the potential to turn into a category #1. Who knew? I actually enjoyed talking to her, we had more in common than I thought...and here I had closed the door on her category 2 status!

Whether you feel facebook is good or bad, makes you happy or sad, one thing no one can disagree with is the time commitment one must devote to this website. It gives us more to do - more places to check for messages. It is a place where you can get stuck for way too long clicking in circles, reading things about people you would never have known in a pre-facebook era.

**Multi-tasking

I am a chronic multi-tasker. I suppose it can be attributed to my busy life, but I feel uneasy if I'm not doing more than one thing at a time. I can't just drive a car - I must talk on the phone, eat watermelon out of a tupperware with a fork, sing along to a song on the radio and sanitize my hands at the same time. Some may feel this is unsafe and they should find out what neighbourhood I am in before they leave their house, however, I assure you, I am a professional multi-tasker. No need to worry.

I use the computer at the same time as listening to voicemails and vacuuming the kitchen. I go for walks while I catch up on text messages. I read the paper while eating breakfast, making my lunch and packing my work things. I even multi-task at bedtime. Get your minds out of the gutter...I mean while flossing!! Flossing is boring-I must also change into pajamas, check on the kids, arrange my pillows and set my alarm.

The only thing I will NOT multi task with is this blog. For some reason, this needs my undivided attention, and even if I have something else on my mind the words do not flow. My mind must be completely blank (often this is not hard to achieve by the end of the day), and I allow no one to read a draft until it is published (hubby just doesn't GET this and is annoyed that I must angle the computer screen away from him, and at any sign of peeking, I fiercely growl at him). However, everything else in my life is fair game for multi-tasking. You know what they say - if you want something done, give it to someone who is busy!

p.s. This is not an invitation to ask me to do something for you.

**Turned in to mush

Before I had children I enjoyed movies. I enjoyed a night out with some popcorn, or a night in with a fuzzy blanket and a cup of tea, however, times have changed - but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Sure, time is of the essence and the ever-so-abundant "me" time is scarce, as well as increased responsibilities (financial and social), valuing sleep much more, etc. However, I don't avoid movies now due to any of those reasons. I avoid movies because I have been turned into a big emotional marshmallow. Something happened to me when I birthed a child. At first I thought it had to be those dreaded hormones, but no living thing has come out of me in almost 4 years and I'm pretty sure the hormones are back to what they had been. For some reason, my perception of the world has changed and I get deeply upset by other people's suffering.

Ready to click off this blog yet? Do you think I'm totally off my rocker? It can't be just me. I have gotten (gasp) e-mail forwards entitled "how you know you're a mother" and there are many instances of mothers being turned into seemingly irrational creatures when viewing their world through smaller eyes. But why? Why does this happen? I rarely used to cry during television shows, movies, telling or hearing an emotional story, and I have to admit that I didn't really understand why people did! But now, something as simple as a good episode of ER and I'm going through a full box of kleenex and needing to put cucumber slices on my eyes the next day! I cried for a week after seeing Forrest Gump! I am NOT proud of that. That's not even a sad movie!!

So does it change? As the kids grow up and become more self-sufficient does your view of the world go back to normal? I don't mean to sound like a Carrie Bradshaw column with hypothetical questions coming out my hoo-hah, but if anyone can offer up some insight into this for me, I'd appreciate it. I need to know if I should continue buying tissues in bulk.

**Back to "Normal"

Cue the violins-my family is home! As I greeted them at the airport it almost felt funny...my kids' voices sounded different. While they were away I told my hubby to let them talk to me on the phone ONLY if they asked to. Last year my son got very upset talking to me on the phone and dug himself into an "I miss Mommy" rut - likely missing out on some of the fun he could have been having there too. This year they didn't ask to call me, and no matter how much my heart was aching to talk to them, I didn't want to start that downward spiral of missing me.

They stepped out of the airport elevator and ran into my arms. They kept staring at me too, as I was them. They looked so different, sounded so different, smelled so different. Being the emotional wreck I am (since I had kids) I cried, and there started the 3 hour concert. Back and forth they talked and talked and talked and talked and talked. I got to give hubby a quick kiss but said absolutely nothing else to him, as there was not a moment in time one or another squeaky voice wasn't telling me something.

"We saw two crabs fighting over a mussel - it wasn't nice, they should share"

"Granny has the same bath toys as us except her cube with holes in it is green instead of blue"

"Rebecca couldn't come to see us so when we were out the mail man delivered some toys from her"

"Uncle Cory's car has a sunroof just like yours"

"Granny's car has a really big trunk" (it's a pick-up truck)

"Grandpa works a lot but got to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with us still"

"The shark in the ocean was almost dead. We touched it's tail cause Granny said he has prickles on his nose"

...and on and on. We tucked them into bed after 11pm that night (3 hour time difference), sat down on the couch the two of us and I said "hi, welcome home" to my husband. First words we said to eachother since we spoke on the phone the night before.

Since then it has been back to normal, minus a few late nights getting used to Toronto time. They reunited with their friends at multiple playdates this week, resumed their efforts to make me go grey at an early age, started thinking about starting school, and even admitted that maybe they DO in fact sleep well in their own beds too, not just Granny's. Yesterday morning my ever-so-sensitive 5 1/2 year old son said to me "Mommy, you're my favorite in Toronto and Granny is my favorite in BC". Eloquently put, my son. Eloquently put.

**Rankins

There are few things in life that will release wonderful endorphins - fill my heart and mind with glee, put an instant smile on my lips. When I was in highschool and college my now-hubby, then-acquaintance through an acquaintance (long story - but that's another blog) introduced me to country music. Granted, the twangy, drawling songs that are all about losing your house and your truck, or the excitement a guy in a cowboy hat gets checking his girlfriend for ticks, still make me cringe, but the bulk of country music I enjoy. One of my favorite groups growing up were the Rankin Family. East coast music at it's best. The harmonies are what I loved. I'm a harmony-singing gal. Blasting a good country tune in the car and singing the alto part is one of my favorite things to do.

...But I digress. So my darling friend and I, at one of our many Rankin Family concert excursions, weaseled our way backstage with a backstage pass given to us by some person in the audience we didn't know. We went backstage, red-faced and vibrating with excitement, met the then five-some, got autographs, etc, and have never forgotten the day. At subsequent concerts we (and later my hubby and I) mastered the act of getting backstage uninvited (man! I hope no security personnel read this blog!), and had gotten good at playing it 'cool'.

One member of the group died in a tragic accident and the group disbanded many years ago. The concerts and albums came to a screeching halt and I was left singing old tunes in my car by myself (cue the violins).

Well here comes the happy ending - brace yourself! The Rankins are back together, performing a reunion tour and guess who is going to see them? Second row centre! I hadn't listened to them in years but the fiddles blaring in my ears in my car once again get those endorphins pumping. Funny how a song brings you back to a time in your life so easily. In an instant, with a few notes of Rise Again, I am transported to 15 years ago. Instantly.

...And hey - don't judge me you country music hating people! I listen to pop, rock, dance, A/C too but for the next 3 weeks, I am ALL about Heather, Raylene, Cookie and Jimmy Rankin! Look for me - I'm the one wearing the oversized, home-made, autographed t-shirt in the second row! (Geek much?) :-)

**Crazy/Sane

Have you ever felt like you're the only sane one and the rest of the world is a bit off? ...And by 'a bit off' I mean completely crazy? But then you stop to think -- maybe people think the same of me -- maybe I'm crazy to everyone else just as they are to me. Hmmmmm.

For example, walking through the park at 7:30 last night it was a little breezy, but still about 25 degrees AND mid August. Some parents have their kids in jackets and winter hats! I just don't get it! For a slight breeze! They must look at me crooked in fall when my kids are still without coats and boots when all the leaves are gone. See? I bet they think I'm crazy then.

Then there are the ones who can't understand why their wounds aren't healing and they smoke 2 packs of cigarettes a day, or the ones who walk outside without shoes with cuts on their feet and can't understand why they got an infection. I wish as a nurse I could master the art of sounding professional at the same time as saying "DUH!?!?" Not sure that's possible.

One family I know who shall remain nameless won't put their baby down on the floor for fear of 'dirt', yet turn their back when he crawls up the circular flight of hardwood stairs! I can't even watch the wobbling, near falling, distracted endeavor. I have to turn away and each time I wait to hear the crash.

Once when I had a cousin over she asked me if I felt the same as her - in the way that maybe it's actually ME who is the bad parent, crazy person, irrational human being - because it can't be that the world has gone crazy and spared just me. It got me thinking. Maybe she's right. Maybe people look at me and wonder why my kids wear sandals in the fall, why they're allowed to jump off the couch, why I put polysporin and a bandaid on every little scratch...but I have my reasons, as I'm sure everyone does. I just hope that my friends and family love me enough to tell me if they think I'm being crazy. I would want to be told - mostly so I could defend my position, but also so I could see ME from another's perspective. It's tough to step back and objectively see yourself, no matter how hard you try.

**Pressure-based Entry

So now that I know that people are actually READING this, I froze up. I need to find something good to say! Something people will find funny or inspiring or interesting, or even remotely worth their time. I'm blank. I could write a blog about nothing - just like Seinfeld - and he did well for himself, though I never enjoyed him. I'm not so sure I could be entertaining when talking about nothing. Let me try.

Last Tuesday I was out with my mom in a very public place. I was sending a text message to my hubby as I walked into the washroom. Someone said very loudly "EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME!"...I'm not in his way, I thought. Wait...I'm not in HIS way. Shit. The man kindly said "this is the men's washroom". Oops. Never done that before, but I learned my lesson. Never walk and text.

I encountered another spider last night, though thankfully it was outside. I had a friend over and we went into our outdoor bin in the backyard to get some chair cushions, and there it was. A HUGE spider inside it's web in the corner of the bin...just staring at me as if to say "you killed my friends behind your front stairs, so I have come to terrorize you". Lucky for me, my wonderful friend (who is afraid of spiders herself) discovered that she is NOT the biggest chicken in the world - it is in fact me. She saved the day - closed the bin and dug out some cushions from the garage. From now on I will have to keep one sterile cushion stored in a very large ziploc bag inside my house so that I can ensure there will be no chance of spiders. Every day life gets more difficult all the time, doesn't it?

The other day my 3 year old daughter had to pee when out at a park where there were no actual bathrooms available. Granted I'm not proud of this, but sometimes a kid has just GOT to go on a tree. As she was peeing on the tree, my newly private-part-conscious little girl who is 3 going on 30 asked if it was okay if the geese flying overhead saw her private parts. How do you keep a straight face?

There you have it. A blog about nothing. Think I'll make millions like Jerry?

**Lucky

Ever have a day when you feel like the luckiest person in the world? Granted, it may be followed by a completely crappy day, but some days are happier-more yellow if you will (shout out to my Rosie blog fans).

Today as I drove around seeing my gazillion patients I had one of those wonderful days where I realized how blessed I truly am. I don't mean to be braggy or anything, as that is not what this is about. I am just having a day-16 beautiful waking hours-of happiness. I didn't even do anything special.

I have a wonderful, beautiful family, friends that I wouldn't trade for the world, the best job ever to exist, a perfect house filled with love, and health. What more could anyone ask for? I see a lot of sadness in my job. Many people are facing the worst times of their lives when I enter their homes. This makes me realize that sweating the small stuff is ridiculous. So what if the kids spill something on the new furniture? We can have it cleaned. Who cares if I break a dish or take a chunk out of my hardwood floor? Whatever.

A lot of people have trouble understanding the way I think-likely because they don't see what I do day in and day out. Hopefully none of us will ever experience that moment in time when your world freezes up, when everything shifts and suddenly your biggest worry yesterday is your smallest one today. So as I wrap up my happy-day-blog, I leave you with something to think about. It is not worth worrying about spills, a few dollars, broken glass, a hurt feeling. Look at the big picture. Take a moment each day to think about how lucky you are. I do it every single day, whether it is a crappy one or a wonderful one like today, and hopefully you will find a little more solace in your day.

Peace out.

**A giant leap

I have taken the biggest blog-step possible. I have told some people my URL. Ahhhhh! Now I feel pressure! What can I say that's witty enough to keep people's attention? What if I say too much? Too little? The pressure! The pressure!

I'm starting to enjoy my quiet house now. My kids are having a blast in BC-they even saw a shark in the ocean yesterday! ...and apparently have made friends with some snails that they let crawl all over them! ...gross to me, but they love it! So I'm settling into my vacation of mellowness.

Yesterday I sprayed a whole can of RAID behind my front porch because there were cobwebs. I HATE spiders! I'd rather have a mouse in my house than a spider. Last year when my family was a away I found an enormous spider in my basement. I screamed and jumped on a chair with my heart racing! I didn't know what to do. Should I walk away and never go downstairs again? Should I spray it with bug spray? No! Not inside! So I grabbed my biggest nursing textbook and dropped it on top of it. Then I jumped on the book. Repeatedly.

Two hours later, lying in bed, I realized that I never actually checked if he was dead. Really-what are the chances a looney-sized bug would survive that? But I couldn't sleep knowing he could be out for revenge...crawling through the vents up to my bedroom to get me while I sleep! What would any sane person do in this situation? I called my mom....at 2:30am. I told her she needed to stay on the phone with me while I took a broomstick, pushed the textbook off him and ensured there was a carcass under there. Reasonable, isn't it? So I did it-screaming into the phone the whole time. There was a carcass...but then after I saw it, I dropped two more textbooks on top of the carcass in case he came back to life, jumped on those texts repeatedly, and I left the three books, the spider guts and the basement for good. When my ever-so-brave hubby got home he "took care of it". Phew. I survived. So THAT is why I sprayed a whole can of RAID on a spider web behind my front porch. What if that spider got in? It was not a chance I was willing to take.

**Whoa Is Me

So now this blog is turning into a "whoa is me my family is away and I'm left all alone, please let me tell you all about my sorrows" blog. They left this morning. I like to keep myself busy when they're gone...out with friends, dinners, pool, socializing, poker nights, games nights, etc...but my plans on day one got cancelled. I didn't realize what a problem that would become until the echo of my own breath scared me in my own home. This home is usually filled with laughter, sibling squabbling, phones ringing, the all-too-common time out timer beeping...and now it is silent. Completely and utterly....silent...

They have gone to visit Granny and Grandpa in BC twice before without me. Time number one was only for a week and I was DREADING it. I thought I would be a miserable sack of sadness by the time they got back, but much to my surprise I actually had a GREAT time. I got to do the things I never had time to do, got to think about myself for once, stay up late, get up, go to work, come home for a nap, then go out again at night. The second time was for 2 weeks. Last summer. It was similar to the first time but by the time the end rolled nearer I was ready for them to come home. This time is for 15 days. I have been looking forward to it since they got back the last time. Now don't get me wrong - I love my family and I love them being around me and spending time with them, but to live the 'single life' for 2 weeks a year is a nice change of pace.

But here I sit in my empty house with my plans cancelled, and the whole night ahead of me, and I can't help but wonder why I feel lonely. My life is busy 24-7. I am always doing or going or getting or racing. This should be a breeze! This should be my little piece of heaven right here. But I can't help but look at those two empty twin beds, untouched stuffed animals, blankies left strewn on the carpet, and I long for that chaos that has so affectionately become my life.

**Blog #1 worked so let's try a second one

Alright, so it looks like this is easier than I thought so let's try telling you a little bit about myself. I am a married, 29 year old registered nurse. I have 2 kids - a 5 year old boy and a 3 year old girl. My hubby is a stay-at-home dad, and no matter how many people look at me crooked when I say that, I stand by my response of 'OH MY GOODNESS IT IS THE BEST THING EVER!" How many people do you know who have 2 small children and don't have to cook or clean and get to just enjoy their kids growing up? Older people especially say 'oh, well that's too bad'. Um, hello? Are you kidding me? This is the way to go!

I don't really have hobbies because I don't have much time, but I do have some guilty pleasures...like watching Big Brother, Rosie O'Donnell, playing poker, etc...but we'll have lots of time to catch up on these things. Welcome everyone! I hope you enjoy my blog!

D

**WELCOME TO MY BLOG....

...though I have no idea if I know what I'm doing! I've never 'blogged', I've never posted on myspace or anything like that, yet for some reason I feel capable of creating a whole website about ME. I have no idea how to do this, nor do I have any idea if anyone would actually read it. I have friends who blog and I think to myself "why the heck would anyone bother reading this?"...yet, I have these blogs bookmarked and read them religiously. Go figure!

Here we go stranger friends...here we go.......

D