**Clueless

I have no idea how it never occurred to me that hubby going back to work full time would increase my personal responsibilities. Duh! What the hell was I thinking?! Where was my brain?!

He started back to work full time (though working from home some days) this week. It was all good - the best laid plans. There were no issues, a babysitter for the off-kindergarten days was easy to find and affordable. The work schedules jived and no one had to change anything. We planned this for a month. A full month I had to figure this out. Never ONCE did it cross my mind that I would have to work full time AND be solely responsible for the kids until after dinner 5 days a week. Not until yesterday. Day one went off without a hitch. Day two came and BOOM! It hit me. It is going to be like this FIVE DAYS A WEEK. PLUS working full time myself. Suddenly I feel oh, so tired.

Sometimes I wonder where my brain is. It was my idea that he work full time. I'll get used to it, I'm sure, but it seems like an uphill climb right now. I need to wake up and smell the responsibility - QUICK!

**Surprise Moment

For a couple of months now I have known that my son was ready to try a two-wheeler. The problem was that he had no desire to do it, and he's a very head-strong kid. If he doesn't want it, he will fight it with all his might. So today I put my foot down, and through the tears and arguing emerged a proud little boy pedalling his way down the sidewalk with no training wheels. He is so proud of himself, and I would not have insisted had I not been sure he could do it confidently. He can.

Here's the short version of the story. A wonderfully brilliant friend suggested converting a bike into a "push bike" - removing the pedals and training wheels and ensuring the seat is nice and low and having him learn how to "glide" down the driveway. He did this off and on for a month or two (not consistently - maybe once a week). Once the gliding became easy (he can start at the top of the driveway and glide easily down onto the sidewalk without putting his feet down), we were to put the pedals on.

So here we are - after school today. Hubby screwing the pedals in and poor son sobbing that he likes his push bike and wants to ride it forever. I beg, I plead, I bargain - just TRY it. I promise a "prize" if he gives it his best shot. I try everything. Then I have a thought. Since he was a baby he would not try anything unless he knew he had mastered it. Even walking - he pushed that toy on wheels around our condo for months before he let go. So today I said "why don't Daddy, your sister and I cover our eyes and you try it and tell us when you're ready to let us watch". For half an hour I peeked through my fingers as he first put his feet on the pedals, then began MOVING the pedals, to next him being at the end of the street beaming back at us saying "open your eyes! Look how far I went?!" He did it all by himself. There was no running alongside him, not one scratch or fall, he just did it.

The part that I was not prepared for was the overwhelming feeling of pride I had when he pedaled for the first time. I, of course, could not express it because I wasn't supposed to be watching, but it caught me off guard. I expected him to get the hang of it, and I pictured him doing it, but the rush of emotion as he took off on his own was indescribable. Who would have thought that on a cloudy September day, an event as simple as that would burn into my memory and surely last a lifetime.

**Parenting Challenging Day

So we're upstairs in the bathroom changing our fish's water when my son climbs in the bathtub and starts pretending to have a bath. As I finish scrubbing that yummy algae off the walls of the two fish bowls, I tell the kids that I don't mind if they play pretend in the tub, just no turning on the water and take off the socks to avoid slips. They're gleeful that Mom is so cool.

Fast-forward ten minutes. I'm downstairs putting chicken in the oven. I hear that the innocent child's play is becoming more and more rowdy. I poke the potatoes and head upstairs to threaten the games to be over if they're too wild. What do I find but a huge chunk missing out of the shower curtain. My mind was racing...I'm angry because I know they were playing too rough...they KNOW they were playing too rough...I don't know who did it...but they were both being wild...what can I do?...Ending the game isn't enough...there has to be something else. So I have a bright idea. Both kids to their rooms, a discussion about respecting their environment and (drum roll please) each kid has to give me $1 out of their piggy bank to pay for a new shower curtain.

Am I a bad Mom? I sure felt like it as my little girl sat on her bed hugging her piggy bank and crying. But I needed to make a point. Mommy always bails them out - if they break something it gets replaced-even if it was broken due to disrespecting it. A time out isn't enough in this situation. So they each gave me a dollar and verbalized understanding of the importance of caring for our family's stuff.

Point made? I sure hope so because that was a tough one for me to do.

**Epilogue

A quick epilogue to my blog from earlier tonight. My son is still awake in bed at 10:05pm - two hours and ten minutes after he was tucked in there. Perhaps there is a downside to all the excitement that grade one has brought him.......

**Sigh Of Relief

My boy started grade one today. He is officially a big kid - according to him. He plays outside on the tarmac with the big kids, goes in and out the same doors as the big kids, and gets to use the big kid bathrooms. Does it get better than that? Apparently not.

A lot of the grade one kids (and many of the grade twos) looked very hesitant this morning. There were a few tears shed and a lot of leg-clinging going on, but my boy was at the top of his game! He at one point looked a bit sad and I attentively said "what's wrong?!" (all concerned there were tears to follow) and all I got back was a "It's hot out here - I wanna go in!". Okay, clearly Mommy is more emotional than him.

Waiting at the back door to pick up my little man I was concerned about what I would find - would it be a smiley, happy kid, would it be a disappointed kid who thought grade one would be better than it actually is? I was worried, but at 3pm out through the door - the first kid in the whole school to come out - was my smiling bouncy boy. Grinning from ear to ear, he gave me a wave, said bye to his teacher and (sniff, sniff) avoided my kiss. He IS a big boy if he's avoiding my kiss.

But other than my little broken heart, the great news is that he had a great day, made new friends, and told me that "grade one is even better than he thought it would be", and that he "loves being in grade one". Phew. Thank goodness! I thought he would do well - he did love it last year, though he would NEVER admit it, and I figured he'd thrive on going full time, but still, I feel as if a crisis was averted. It could have gone either way, but we can all breathe again. I know you were all waiting with baited breath, but I assure you, he's doing just fine. My big kid.

**Jitters

I can't sit still. I literally can NOT sit without moving. I am so excited. My family comes home today from their trip out west. They have been gone for thirteen days. That's a long time. While I enjoy my time to myself and making my own schedule and rules, I also love when they come home. I can't wait to kiss and hug them...smell them! Isn't it funny that I miss their smells? How strange is that? If I were to list things that I miss about them, their smells would be right up there with their voices and their squeezes.

I kept myself busy the last thirteen days. Clearly I haven't been blogging, but I have gone out with a lot of friends, had some nights in with friends for games and karaoke, I've done things I haven't done in years like go to a Blue Jays game. I napped a lot, and in turn I learned something about myself. I don't sleep as well at night if my nap exceeds an hour. Who knew? I still sleep, but in a much lighter, less satisfying sleep. Don't fret, this fact will in no way impede my love of napping. Nope, I can live with sleeping lighter at night. Daytime naps are totally worth it.

So now I as I vibrate in my kitchen chair, waiting for the clock to hurry up, I realize I need to find something to do for the next hour. I'm gonna go find something to clean. That always passes the time. Yay! My family is coming home!!!!! My world is falling back into place once again.

**Busy Is The Key

I don't do well with too much time on my hands. All year long I whine that I don't have enough time to myself and fantasize about having time to do simple things like read a book or put pictures in a photo album. My family has just been away for their yearly trip, and I have come to a realization. If I could have time to myself in very small quantities, I'd be happiest.

My time spent with the family away was a true testament to the saying "the grass is always greener on the other side". For the first week I did something every single day. I went out for dinners, played bingo, went to a casino, went to a Blue Jays game, hosted a games night, hosted a karaoke night - all of which were wonderful, fun times that I normally don't get to do...or at least not all in one week! During the first week, I looked forward to my slower-paced second week. I imagined all I'd get done around the house, all the relaxation time I'd have, all the tv shows and movies I'd watch. After day one of no plans after work, I was totally done. I watched 3 1/2 hours of television (which of course I had to catch up on), felt like a couch potato, then I tried to be productive and change pictures in our kitchen frames and clean out the linen closet. I realized I didn't really feel like doing chores after that, so I went to bed early.

My life is hectic and stressful on a regular basis and I think my body goes into a state of shock when it doesn't need to keep up with that pace. I realize now that busy is my niche. Stick with what you're good at, right? I'm good at being busy. I'm going to go with that from now on. Slow and relaxing is fun for an hour or two, but overall is definitely not for me!

**Pausing Time

As a child - like many, I'm sure - all I wanted to do was grow up. I wanted more responsibility, more independence, more freedom.

As a teenager I was in a rush to finish school and start my 'real life'. I wondered why it seemed like it was taking so long to get where I knew I wanted to go.

Once I reached young adulthood, I was in a hurry to marry and start my family. Having been so lucky to find my 'mate' at such a young age and be so sure that he was the 'one', I was in a hurry to get that ball rolling.

Now we are married and have two wonderful children, and for the first time in my life, I want time to stand still. I want THESE days to last forever. I want every giggle, every profound moment to go on and on. They are growing up, my babies. I am beginning to realize that these are the times I have been striving for all my life. All the rest was just practice for this - this REAL life.

If I could freeze time and live happily ever after with my 4 and 6 year old, I would be happy to never enter another life phase. THIS is what life is about. I am currently living my own dream.

**Vomit at Costco

Anyone out there who has kids, I have a very important piece of advice for you. Do not go to Costco with a child that says they have a tummy ache. Trust me. It just ain't worth it!

Let me paint the picture. A few days ago. A nice summer day. I get home from work. I say "let's go do our shopping at Costco". Daugther says "but my tummy hurts". She says this a lot. Whenever she doesn't want to do something, or someone hurts her feelings, or something else is bothering her that she doesn't want to talk about...so I make nothing of it and pile hubby and kids into the car with the promise of a snack on the way there to make her tummy feel better.

A granola bar later, we're in the store with little girl in the cart and little boy walking behind. Daughter says "I'm cold". It is kinda chilly in there so I grab a sweater off the shelf to cover her shoulders with. Hubby goes down frozen food aisle and I hang back with kids. Daughter turns an awful shade of green and looks like she's gonna blow. I grab the only thing within reach - the sweater - and attempt to catch all the vomit. There is a lot of vomit. Son freezes and backs slowly away as it's splashing off the floor and up onto my legs. I yell (at the top of my lungs) for hubby. No response. More vomiting, Son is like a deer in headlights. I yell again. Hubby comes in (what feels like) slow motion but I know he did run. Not sure why I called cause he sure can't make her stop vomiting! Finally the vomit is done, it's pooled in her lap, down her legs, in her shoes, and that sweater....that poor, poor sweater. What do I do with it? I'd buy it but I'm sure no cashier in their right mind would want to scan the damn thing.

Hubby runs off with dumbfounded son to wash his vomity hands. I stand holding the dripping sweater unsure of what to do. I place it on top of a garbage can. I'm a bad, bad person. It's not the money (not sure of how much it cost) but I wanted to get the hell out of there and get home before more vomit came.

I reach the front of the store and get stopped by the cashier - I forgot I had stuff in my cart. I was NOT about to wait in line to pay for my fish and fajita shells! I said - in some hasty voice I'm sure - "take it out! I don't want it! She just threw up and we have to go!". I hope somewhere in that exchange the cashier got the idea that she may want to call for a clean up in the aisle we were in, as well as on the cart I was pushing. I grabbed napkins from the restaurant (sure that the patrons of the restaurant were thrilled by the vomit filled child that was being pushed by their noses) and ran to the parking lot.

We stripped poor daughter down to her underwear in the parking lot as she said "but someone will see my private parts!" and I assured her that no one was looking, wiped her as best I could with a dozen napkins and raced home as fast as I could. We got home vomit free. Poor kid ran so fast into the house across the lawn in her princess underwear. She'll probably be in therapy in twenty years telling the shrink how Mommy made her run around with her private parts showing.

Now Hubby says he's sure that Costco has cameras and security will chase us down the next time we enter through those doors. Excellent.

**2 Busy 2 Change

I am - how can I say - allergic to change...similar to my clutter allergy. I'm an anti-change sort of girl. I prefer things to stay the same as I find it much easier to function in an everyday busy life sort of way. I'm too busy for change. Learning new things and routines interrupt my current routines. I seem to have a filing system in my brain. There are many folders and subfolders for useful and important information, then there is a whole section for stuff I don't need to know. In that useless info folder is pretty much my whole life before I was 18. I have a terrible memory for details when I was growing up. Late highschool is pretty clear but the rest of it is fuzzy.

I don't believe that it means I have a bad memory, I just like to believe that I don't put brain power into remembering things that I don't need to remember. Things like names. I'm terrible with names. I totally believe that it's my coping mechanism. I have a busy life, I meet a lot of people and I need to remember a lot of things - many of them peoples lives depend on. I'm pretty sure that my way of coping with that amount of important info is by deleting the things that aren't quite as important. They aren't gone forever - they're in there somewhere - like in a recycling bin on my computer. They are retrievable if necessary but not readily available.

So this is why I don't like change. It makes me need to store more info in my brain. When hotmail stopped allowing people to use Outlook Express as their e-mail program and I had to switch to Windows Live Mail, it was a traumatic event for me. I could use Outlook with my eyes closed and then I had to learn a whole new e-mail program. I just dont have room in my brain. Same thing with Microsoft Money. I upgraded to a new version. Why? I have to learn things that I don't have the brain space for. In my opinion, change takes too much work to adjust to and is not recommended for busy people with full lives like mine.

**Conquering my Fear

BIG NEWS!!! I killed FIVE spiders today! To me that is good news and bad news. Good news because I learned that I CAN do it (if I absolutely have to), bad news because there were five spiders in my house in one day. The latter is a small tragedy to me. How could I find five spiders in my house in one day? I told hubby we're infested and we should call an exterminator. This comment was met with laughter and eye rolling.

The first spider freaked the heck out of me and you may have heard me scream from wherever you live - no matter how far. I was emptying the last bag from our cottage vacation. I was standing at the kitchen sink and felt a tickle on my arm. I looked down expecting to see a loose hair, but I saw a big brown spider. I screamed so loud my voice cracked and I jumped so high it fell off onto the floor. I repeated profanities while I grabbed a paper towel and squished it.

I should have prefaced that story with a disclaimer - I was home alone all morning with hubby at work and kids at camp. I had no one to bail me out.

The second spider was a tiny "jumping spider" on my bedside table. How could I not kill a spider that is directly next to the place I sleep? I'm not so terrified of those little jumping spiders - they're not as creepy as your regular spider so I don't give myself too much credit for getting that one.

The next one was a small black one on the kitchen floor, and the forth one was in the basement. That one was discovered as I was moving a table in order to fit a second ikea tent and tunnel down there for my poor, toy-deprived children (NOT) who just HAD to have them ALL set up at once. My kids were home at this point and I said "AHH! SPIDER!" My brave son said "I'll get it!" But me, being the chicken I am, was afraid it was a jumping spider and had this terrible flash before my eyes of it jumping away from him and loosing it and then I wouldn't be able to come down to the basement until it was found, so I said "no, I'll get it", and I took two tissues and bravely squished it without too much hooplah. As soon as I stood up my son gave me a standing ovation. "YAY MOMMY! WAY TO GO! YOU DID IT!". I wish I got that kind of response all the time!

The last spider was my most traumatic, but also the one I'm most proud of, and this made me realize I CAN do it. We went for an evening walk and walked through a very weedy area behind our house. When we got home my son was washing his hands in the bathroom when I looked in the mirror and saw a HUGE BLACK SPIDER climbing across his NECK. I grabbed for a tissue and said "there's a bug on you" at which point he scrunched up his neck and shoulders and the spider crawled DOWN HIS SHIRT!! I pulled the shirt away (calmly while muttering calm and reassuring words but my heart was pounding out of my chest) and saw it crawling on the inside of his shirt. I cupped my hand around it through the outside of the shirt, kept it closed and pulled the shirt off over his head. I opened my hand over the toilet and the spider fell into the toilet and I flushed FAST.

I can do it. I can really do it if I have to, but if hubby is home, I likely will still be heard yelling "HELP! THERE'S A SPIDER!! COME QUICK!"

**Random Thoughts

It has been a while since I've blogged and I have a list of blog ideas saved in my head, so I felt it time to put all those random thoughts together onto the screen and get them out of my head. It's a personal cleansing exercise.

My kids have asked funny things lately. My daughter asked how the world was made, followed by my son asking how the first person came on the earth if there was no one on earth to make the first baby. After that awkward and complicated response that involved a lot of talk about the birds and the bees, my too-smart-for-his-own-good boy told me he was going to live at home with me forever so he could save money and not have to pay for his own house. These kids sure keep me on my toes. You never know what they will come up with next!

Next thought - I'm a big believer in karma. I believe that when you do good unto people, good will be done unto you as well. I think this is a good motto to live by, though you must remember to not only do good so you will get good in return. I'm not sure when this idea materialized in my mind but I am a true believer in this. Many experiences in my life and those around me have led me to this belief. There's my preaching session for the evening.

I went to the dentist the other day for the first time in five years. Last time I was there (when I was pregnant with my daughter) the hygienist told me that I had such great teeth that all I need to do is start flossing and I'd never have to go. By never, I believe she meant less often but one should never say that to a girl who hates the dentist more than spiders....almost. So I floss regularly now and five years later showed up at the dentist with my tail between my legs only to be told that I do have great teeth and I don't have to go too often but I do need to make an appearance there some time before my kids are in high school. I warned the dentist that they loose out on business when they go around telling people that!

Last thought - how many days until September? My kids hadn't even had a full week without school when I began counting down the days until the year starts again. Summer is great for the first dozen trips to the splash pad, then it becomes such an effort to find things to do with them each and every day. A couple of vacations and a couple of weeks of camp will help to break it up but still - I like the consistency and schedule of school. Call me crazy (as all my teacher friends will) but that's my feeling.

There you have it - some random thoughts. I have a lot of them in my head so stay tuned for a random thoughts take two coming soon!

**My bathroom has a dresser and TV in it

We are renovating. My bathroom has a television, dresser and some random full drawers in it that I'm really not sure where they came from. My curtains are shoved under a bed frame and I have yet to find the clothes that were previously in my closet.

I know people always say that renovating is messy and stressful but I didn't realize the extent of that stress and mess. EVERYTHING in our house is covered in a layer of sawdust and ceiling fragments. All of the pictures on the walls are crooked and the brand new potlights are falling out because of the intensity of the banging to install the hardwood upstairs. We can hear it from down the street!

Today I wanted my magazine that was previously on my night table. There is no way. I am trying SO hard to suppress my inner Monica and turn the other way. MONDAY the hardwood is done. The end of the week the rest is done. It's not so bad. Not so bad. Not so bad. It's not working. Today after dinner I tried to clean the floors. There is just no point. It's like I'm just pushing the dust around.

So now as I attempt to turn a blind eye, I am going to try to find my shower. If I stumble upon a bar of soap, it will be a bonus.

**Big Kids

My boy is finished kindergarten. He is starting full time school - grade one - the big playground and everything - in September. I cannot believe how fast this year went. Here we are now with my big guy done SK, my baby done JK and me realizing that every year it seems to get faster.

I know people always say that time flies, but I literally feel like it was last week that I was watching my daughter help pack her lunch for her first day at big-girl school. Standing on a stool at the kitchen counter, still only able to see in her lunchbox if she stood on her tippytoes, she placed her snacks and lunch into her pink lunchbox with such care and anticipation.

I remember her first day clear as a bell. I took pictures from the front porch as she walked with her Daddy and big brother to school...her backpack almost larger than her. She told us she was really scared, though she never once showed it. She said it was hard not knowing what to do or how to do things like eat her lunch because she had never done that before without Mommy and Daddy.

I have to watch that little one. My son tells it as it is. If he is happy, sad, angry, mad, he tells you. My daughter does not. She says things like "I'm tired" if something is on her mind, or she will just put on a happy face even though inside unhappy things are milling around.

I digress. So the last ten months have felt like mere minutes, and as we jump with both feet into summer vacation, it leaves me wondering how I can bottle these times. Every year that passes I look back on it fondly, but also sadly. I know these days of precious milestones are soon long gone and I'm trying my best to not let life get in the way of living.

My little girl woke up this morning bouncing with excitement. "It's my first last day of school!!" she exclaimed. That it IS. Her first last day of school. It makes me feel sad that we will never experience a first day of school or a first last day of school again. All the firsts are ending and on goes life. I wish I could go back and live it all again - taking it all in even more than I did. Now we get to enjoy life in different ways. There aren't as many firsts but there sure is excitement. More adventures. Different memories, different hurdles. On we go.

**The Five (and a half) Year Itch

The moving itch. I've got it and I've got it bad. The itch is taking over my life. It occupies my mind most every minute of the day. Visions of landscaping, extra bedrooms, storage, big driveways, yards and (gasp) fireplaces fill my days and nights. Then the visions of boxes, lawyers fees, real estate agents, mortgages and renovations squish those pretty visions like the spider in my bathroom.

I HATE moving. I can say with confidence that there is nothing more in the world I hate than moving. I stand by my theory that moving is more stressful than getting married or having a baby. I have yet to have a smooth move, or hear of one for that matter. I have purchased two properties in my life, sold one. None of those three transactions have gone well. Everything turned out fine, but the road to get there was unbearable.

However, I can't help it. All our lives we have "settled". We have always lived below our means and never bought anything of significance that we haven't absolutely needed. We went from a rented basement apartment to buying a condo. We were getting married and knew a family wasn't far off. When it was time for a second child, we knew our two bedroom condo wouldn't do and moved to a 3 bedroom semi with a decent sized yard (for the area). We aren't having more children, nor are we growing out of our house but heck wouldn't it be nice to live in a bigger one?

We have lived in our house for 5 1/2 years. Things are starting to need repair - exterior painting, the carpets upstairs and on the staircases, the walls we painted when we moved in, the decor is getting old. The problem is that when I thought of all the money I'd like to put into the house to improve it, I realized that I don't want to put it into this house. I don't feel happy enough here to spend that kind of money on it.

Often people say to me "how do four people live in that house?". Frankly, we fit here quite well. I don't feel we need more space in any way. We finished the basement, the kids have a playroom, each their own bedroom, a kitchen big enough for entertaining, and a yard big enough for sprinklers and a kiddie pool. There is no aspect of our house that doesn't work for us logistically.

BUT there are things we don't like about it. Little things. Not make-or-break-it things.

The problem is that hubby isn't on board. No part of him wants to move. He has agreed to put some money into it to fix it up a bit and make it look more modern, but moving is not in his plans at all. I have a problem with trying to convince him. If I am successful, we do sell our house and move up in the world and something goes wrong either with the process or the new house, it would be my fault. I would be the one who gets told "I told you so" and I cannot handle that.

Our house has served us very well. We have had no unexpected expenses (other than the washing machine breaking in the first year, calling the repair man only to find a baby sock stuck in the motor). The basement is so far the driest I have seen (or smelled), the roof, windows, appliances, furnace, etc. are all functioning at top notch. Isn't it stupid to give those things up? When you don't NEED to? What if you end up in a lemon? You can spend tens of thousands of dollars with unexpected repairs on a house. Why would you risk that?

The funny thing is that with all these reasons why NOT to consider moving, I still have that little voice inside of me telling me it's time. "you can afford it. your kids will benefit from it. you will be happier. it's one last move and you're there for the long haul. it's worth it for your happiness. you don't have to only buy things that are necessities. sometimes you need to not be so logical and do things for the sole reason that you want to...."

Perhaps the voice will win, perhaps my hubby will win, but either way, I feel like the idea of this itch needs to be seriously entertained before it is relieved.

**Everyone Loves...Marineland

So we went on a little excursion last week – packed up the kids, the hubby, and pretty much all that we own and headed to Niagara Falls. We had equipment for all types of weather (because all types were predicted for our 48 hour whirlwind) and hubby commented that it likely would have been easier to bring Niagara Falls to our house than us go there). We drove straight to the falls, walked along, took a zillion pictures, went on the Maid of the Mist (just me and my daughter – my son was a bit too hesitant and I didn’t want to have to deal with a half hour of crying), then went to check into our hotel.

Let me make a side note of how much I was dreading the hotel. We booked a room with two double beds and brought an air mattress for one kid (whichever one yelled loud enough to win the air mattress because that is the bed of choice for them). I cannot sleep in the same room as my children. I am physically incapable of falling into an even semi-unconscious state when I am sharing a room with them. Every sigh, every roll over, every shift of position wakes me. So I KNEW it was going to be a long night.

Back to the story…we went to check into the hotel and I say to the hotel man “are there any rooms with two double beds that are physically larger than others? We are four people and if the layout of your hotel allows for some of these rooms to be roomier, it would help”. Hotel man says “No, Madam, they are all the same size but if you would like (pauses to click around on computer)…I can upgrade you to a two room suite for no extra charge. Would that be sufficient?” Um, YEAH!!! THAT was a silly question! So we got two rooms – one with a queen bed and one with a double bed, two TV’s, and a DOOR in between the bedrooms for $89 a night. Does it GET better than that?

Then we went out for dinner, bought the kids some treats at a treat shop to eat later and went back to the hotel for a swim in the pool, followed by the kids eating their treats in their own room watching their own TV. They LOVED it. How great is it to be 4 or 6 and have a TV in your room? If you’re one of my kids, it is greater than great.

After they were in dreamland, hubby went out to get some snacks and walk around the building (we were attached by a walkway to the Fallsview Casino Resort), see the falls on the “lookout terrace” of the hotel, wander a bit and then he came back and I got to go to the casino. We would not have been able to do this if the kids were in our room. Our evening would have consisted of us whispering in the dark until we figured it wasn’t worth the effort and went to bed.

The next morning after a buffet breakfast (at which kids eat free but I believe they took down the signs advertising that after they saw how much my kids eat for breakfast), we wandered around the resort, checked out of the hotel and headed to Marineland.

What a great place! I had pretty low expectations because some people had mentioned – well, to have low expectations - but it was wonderful. There were NO lineups for anything…we walked right onto rides, we pet and fed the beluga whales, got splashed during a splash session by the killer whales, saw the big “show” with the dolphins and sea lions, fed black bears corn pops cereal, wandered around with deer amongst us, fed monstrous carp dog food (I have no idea why the food of choice for carp is dog food and bears like corn pops, but that’s what they sold us!), watched the walruses being fed, and other than the fact that it was a zillion degrees, it was great. It was like Canada's Wonderland meets the Zoo meets a really awesome petting zoo. We headed back to the city after being on our feet in 40 degree heat walking almost non-stop for five hours (we were a bit tired) and now we have some lifelong memories of our little mini vacation.

I couldn’t have asked for a better two days – it was just perfect. The kids loved it (though it doesn’t take much at this age…they thought one of the best things about the trip was the key card they took turns using in our hotel door) and we’ll definitely do mini trips like this more often!

**What Makes a Family?

I spent my Wednesday with Rosie O'Donnell. It was wonderful. What some people just don't understand is that she is portrayed much different than she actually is. Read on - I'll convince you. Standing in line at Indigo at the Eaton's Centre was no fun for anyone. It was hot, it was a long line, and it was still a couple of hours until she arrived. In walks Rosie's assistant. She went through the lineup and picked out any kids (and their families), any older people, and anyone with a cane, walker, wheelchair, crutches, etc. They all went to the front of the line, sat in chairs, and Rosie went up to THEM and signed their books. She signed for four hours, almost making her late for her concert appearance. She made every person feel welcome, spoke to each one, and tried to make it special in some way. Rosie GETS that your two minutes with her is much more important to you than it is to her. She understands how it feels to be in your shoes, meeting someone famous. She dug deep and touched everyone there in one special way or another. No matter what you think of this woman, you have to give her one thing - she understands us "regular" people and does all she can to make our time worth while too.

So after the signing, myself and three friends went to see the True Colors concert. It was a sort of festival with The Clicks, Indigo Girls, Rosie O'Donnell, The B52's and Cyndi Lauper. What an experience! All sorts of people, families, the show was amazing.

When I had my kids I knew I would tell them about all sorts of different types of families. We have close cousins who are a family with two mommies and I always knew they needed to know that some families are like that. So what makes a family? Love. Commitment. Acceptance. My kids now know that all families are different in their own way but they still have just as much love in them as ours does.

What I don't understand is that some people don't get that. It never even occurs to me that some people feel families are made up of a man and a woman, but there are many, many people out there who feel that way. Too many actually. I suppose when I looked around at all of those people in that audience Wednesday night I realized that a lot of these people live every day trying to not be themselves. They hide their true identities from their closest friends and there - in that amphitheater - they were THEMSELVES.

What made me feel warm and fuzzy inside was when I brought home the craft book from the book signing. On the cover of the book is Rosie O'Donnell and her four kids. My son said "they have five people in their family". I replied "actually, they have six in their family. They are a family with two mommies." "Oh, cool!" He said. No biggie. THAT is how it should be.

**Crash

In an effort to make my life easier and have my faxes print on a better printer, hubby tried to download fax software. Attached to this software - unbeknownst to us was a slimy, sneaky, wormy little (big) virus that attacked our computer like nothing I have ever seen. For the last five days we have been trying to install anti-virus software but our tricky virus blocks such anti-virus software from running.

Next came the e-mail from rogers saying "we think you have a virus on your computer. Please resolve it". Well DUH! Really? Should we resolve it? Really? I kinda like the way the computer is NOT AT ALL WORKING!

So finally an anti-virus software worked and we were sure it was fixed. Um, no. Then hubby (I really can't take credit for any of this) did something else that made us super sure it was fixed. Nope. Not so much.

Then he decided he had to uninstall everything and start from scratch (of course loosing valuable info, but what can you do? It's gone already and at this point I'd like to just save the computer that is only a year and a half old). Well the damned thing kept overheating while he was reinstalling windows...crashing while already crashed. Can it really get worse than the crashing of a crashed computer?!

If it were up to me, I'd be at BestBuy purchasing a new laptop as we speak, but he's still trying.

So as I sit on hubby's work computer catching up on five days of e-mailing and internet surfing, he is deleting everything on our computer and reinstalling everything with the computer propped up on megablocks with a fan blowing directly into the fan hole. Wish us luck. I don't have high hopes.

**Had To Share

I couldn't resist - I had to share two things my kids said today. While playing the Wii this afternoon with my son and having my best game ever - breaking my previous record, my son patted me on the back, stared into my eyes and said in a soft voice; "You finally won something on the Wii Mommy. Good for you".

Then later as I was picking chunks of blue fluff from a robe off my new backpack, my daughter asked what was wrong. I told her I was cleaning my new bag and she said "STUP.....(look of terror on face)...endous bag!".

Good rebound little girl.

**Reading Insomniac

Okay so here's a very strange problem to have. My six year old son loves to read. This is a problem. He gets into bed, he reads a couple of short books and he's awake for ninety minutes. If he does not read in bed he is asleep instantly. Am I supposed to tell him NOT to read?! That seems a bit extreme if you ask me!

NO SON! DO NOT PICK THAT BOOK UP! YOU ARE FORBIDDEN FROM READING!

Um, not so much what good parenting is all about - from what I've heard.

I suppose the reading wakes his mind up - makes him less ready for slumber and more ready for action. I've tried suggesting other (more appropriate) times to read, but there are always toys to play with and a little sister to bother at those times. When else is there nothing in the world to do other than sleep or read? Only at bedtime.

I'm not about to punish the behaviour but it is becoming a bit frustrating to have him call me up at 9:30pm and say "I can't sleep", when I know darned well that had he just closed his eyes when I tucked him in at 8pm he'd be in dreamland by now!

I don't usually ask for parenting suggestions, but if anyone out there has an idea of an appropriate way to encourage reading but ban it from bedtime, your suggestions are welcome. Right now I am going to go and listen to him sing O Canada in bed for the nineteenth time in a row - an hour and ten minutes after I tucked him in. Ugh.

**Crabby Pants

Some days I feel like a sour, unenjoyable person. Some days I feel like they should just throw me in my room, lock the door and throw away the key. Today was one of those days. It was a stressed out, pissy, bite everyone's heads off day. I'm not really sure why actually...in reality it wasn't a bad day. Nothing terrible or out of the ordinary happened, we had a pleasant afternoon and ate dinner out (which went very well). I just had a pickle up my......well, you get the idea.

So after my pissy day I tuck my kids into bed and sit down to read the comics - the only part of the paper I actually ever have time to read, and by comics I mean ONE comic - For Better Or For Worse. It's my favorite comic. I believe I have been reading it since I was able to read. The funniest thing is that the characters in the strip are very similar to myself. I digress. So I sat down to read the one comic I can muster up time to read before I have to go and call my patients for the next day, and I was speechless. It summed up every emotion I was feeling at that particular moment. It was me in a nutshell - in ink - as a cartoon character. Ironic. Check it out.

http://www.fborfw.com/strip_fix/archives/003144.php

It made my mood a bit better knowing that even comic strip characters have days like this.

**Stupid

I don't like when people make me feel stupid. I am in the process of making a big decision and while I value your opinion, I don't appreciate being talked down to, or being told that my opinion is silly. Just because you're a few years older than I am, does not make you automatically the expert on all that IS.

Hubby and I are playing with the options of either moving into a bigger house or renovating our current one. There is nothing wrong with our house, we fit quite nicely here and it has proven to be great for us. There have been no unexpected expenses (knock wood), and with the finished basement for the majority of our kid's toys, we really don't need anything larger. It would be nice to have another room on the main floor for a dining room table for entertaining, and an extra bedroom upstairs would be a great guest room or office, but neither of these are necessities. Our office/guest room serves us well and our kitchen is big enough for our dinner parties.

The wants and needs get blurred, and I have come to the conclusion that everything in my ultimate home is a want. Since we are so on the fence over this, I do appreciate opinions and people pointing out pros and cons, but don't talk down to me. Don't tell me that my justified thoughts are unjustified. It makes me defensive and it makes me feel like I need to keep talking to make you understand where I'm coming from - which makes me sound just not nice.

So I appologize, and please don't hesitate to hand out opinions to me, but don't try to hammer into my head why my thoughts and dreams are unjustified. Thank you.

**My Little Hero

My four year old daughter is my hero. I told her so myself. She ran into the kitchen yesterday and said "Mommy there was a spider in the bathroom!" I gasped. My kids know it's okay for everyone to be afraid of something, and Mommy is afraid of spiders. That's okay.

She said "Don't worry, it's gone."

"What in the world did you do with it?!" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"I squished it with a kleenex and flushed it down the toilet." "It was small so I wasn't scared."

With that, I threw my arms around her and told her she was my hero. I was not kidding.

**Uphill Climb

Apparently when you begin exercising your body stores fat and water in order to brace itself for the increase in activity. Who knew?! They should put big signs up in gyms for us people who are new members and feel like we may as well be on the couch eating bonbons because the scale is increasing and clothes are getting tighter.

WARNING! WARNING! YOU WILL GET FAT WHEN YOU START HERE!

That would be incredibly helpful.

I joined a gym a few weeks ago with hopes of increasing my energy level, making my heart healthier and if I tone up and loose some weight too I wouldn't be too sad. My theory - though a bit convoluted - is to go daily but do only a little. This way it doesn't seem like a chore, I'm in and out in 45 minutes and on with my day. Also, I can make it part of my daily routine and routines are my friend. If I were to go and work out until I'm ready to drop a few times a week, not only would I not want to go and dread it, but I would probably find it hard to find the time.

I joined a gym that is a 3 minute drive from my house. It is also a 3 minute drive from my kid's school; therefore making it easier to go between work and kid pick-up time. As a bonus, there are locations of my gym in the area that I work, so any extended break at work - I'm set. Plus it leaves very few excuses.

This recipe seems to add up to success, but to tell you the truth, that scale was increasing and my motivation decreasing in the first two weeks. Then the lovely lady at the front desk asked me how it was going. I told her I had no problem with the gym - actually I really like going - but I'm very discouraged by the weight gain. Everyone said "you're gaining muscle" - not the case. You can't build muscle that fast according to the internet. She brought me over to a trainer who explained the whole extra-activity-body-preparing phenomenon (though I take credit for that inventive name for it) and sent me on my way.

Phew. She promised that in 3-4 weeks the phenomenon would be eradicated. She had better be right or I've given up all hope in exercise, though I do have to admit that I feel great. I finish there and feel like a million bucks. My body is changing and I can feel it. Now let's see if the scale catches up.

**Religion

I understand that religion is very important to some people. I GET that. I don't GET, however, that a lot of people (whom religion is important to) have a hard time grasping that not all people are like them. To me, religion is not important. It is not important to my husband either, and the majority of our friends don't have religion (whatever it may be) play a big role in their lives. My husband and I are of different religions, but I truly believe that even if that were NOT the case, we still would be raising our children with the same amount of religious intent.

I was raised in a home that never hosted religious gatherings - we would only be guests at them. We never went to a place of worship, never ate the foods our religion said we should. We observed one or two holidays loosely, but that was the extent of it. My brother went to religious school but that was only because there was no junior kindergarten in the public system at that point, there was in Hebrew school, and my dad passed away right after his JK year, so in order to avoid more trauma of moving schools after a boy lost his dad, my mom kept him in Hebrew school until grade three. I went to Sunday Hebrew school (one hour a week) for about 6 months and I hated it so much and had a teacher that kept vodka in her thermos, so I was taken out of it.

My brother had a Bar Mitzvah which my mother hated every second of because of the amount of stress involved with putting it together, she spent the whole "party" angry at someone or another, and she never even got around to picking the pictures from the photographer that we liked, so we all we're left with are the proofs in a box in a closet, having paid for albums and enlargements. How is that supposed to make me want to do that for my son?

It is Passover right now - a holiday where you're not supposed to eat bread (among other things). In our multicultural area we have learned about lots of other religions and ethnicities, and like to share ours with our friends as well. Everyone knows I'm Jewish but am not observant, and as a kind gesture a friend brought over a Passover dessert to a dinner party this weekend. I thought this to be incredibly thoughtful and respectful. I told my mom how nice it was of this family to do this. Her response was "I really hope you didn't tell them that you don't keep Passover!". I told her that they well know we don't keep Passover (as we ate hamburgers - with buns - for dinner) and that wasn't the point - it was the thoughtfullness. Her reply? "When your kids go to Hebrew school, you'd better at least not eat bread at Passover!" My reply "Why would my kids go to Hebrew school? I never did." Big error on my part. "Because they're Jewish! Isn't your son going to have a Bar Mitzvah?!" This is the question I have been anticipating for a while now. The answer has always been no, always will be no, and I'm pretty sure she has known that deep down but refuses to admit it. I said the N-word. No.

Silence.

More silence.

"Hello??"....

"Well that's really sad. I'm not going to argue with you right now" Click.

I am fully aware that this is probably devastating for her. She is probably blaming it on the fact that I married a non-Jew. It is NOT the case. These things are not important to us. It is important that my kids have the same religious identity that I was brought up with - the memories and fun we had at the holidays when we got together with all our cousins and made lots of noise while my grandfather read stuff in Hebrew that we had no idea what it meant, lighting Chanukah candles and singing the prayers, and doing the same amount for Daddy's holidays. We host Passover dinner at our house every year. We have family over and make memories - as I did as a kid at my Grandparents house.

This does not make me a bad person, nor does it make my children any worse off in their lives. Instead of studying for years on end to read a few pages in Hebrew when my son becomes a teenager, I'd rather he have more time to play outside with his friends while learning some important life lessons. I'd rather he learns to read better in English and develop his intellect to a higher degree than have numerous fights with me and his Dad to study his Bar Mitzvah passages. I'd rather take those tens of thousands of dollars that would be spent on a Bar Mitzvah and put them towards his education fund. I am a logical person. I know this will hurt my mother but my children come first. I am not a lesser person because of this.

A few times in my childhood we went to synagogue. It was with my aunt and uncle and my mom didn't even come. Clearly it wasn't so important to her...which is totally fine, except that she shouldn't expect me to feel the importance of it now.

If it was so important for my mother to have observantly Jewish grandchildren, she should have considered raising her children that way. Maybe it would have been more important to me - though I still am doubtful. It hurts me that I am being made to feel bad about these things. I think I do a damn good job of raising my children and keeping my household running the best it can. I have awesome kids that I am proud of. They are smart, well rounded and most importantly - HAPPY children, and to me this is all more important than anything else in the world. What bothers me most? That I feel I need to explain myself. People believe differently. They are raised differently, have different beliefs and that's okay. Happiness is the ultimate goal in life people, not whether or not you eat bread on Passover.

**Last Night's Exchange

I had to share the brief conversation I had with my son last night after I found him still awake after being in bed for an hour (a very rare occasion).

Me: 'How come you're still awake Buddy?'

Him: 'I sleep with my eyes open.'

Me: 'Okay, but are you having trouble falling asleep tonight?'

Him (sitting up): 'I always sleep with my eyes open.'

Me: 'Is something bothering you? Is there something I can do to help?'

Him (getting annoyed): 'I told you I sleep with my eyes open!'

Me: 'I came upstairs because I heard your music box go on...can you turn it on when you're asleep?'

Him: 'Yes'

Me: 'Are you asleep now?'

Him: 'Yes! I'm asleep with my eyes open. I don't close them when I sleep.'

Me: 'So you're okay?'

Him: 'Yes! I'm sleeping!'

Me: 'Okay....um....goodnight???'

Him: 'Goodnight Mommy'

What are you supposed to say to that???

**Half Way

I am the type of person who can never do anything half way. Everything set upon my plate will be done to the greatest of my ability - or not at all. One or the other.

When I was working as a manger at a large homecare agency, two other managers resigned, leaving me to fill the shoes of three managers in different areas. I couldn't do it. I was awake nights thinking about things I should do - but never had the time to concentrate on. I approached my manager and told her that I could just not function if I could not do any of the jobs I was responsible for all the way. I was doing 1/3 of each job and felt as if I was failing miserably. She realigned the department and I was once again able to do my job -- well.

Last week I joined a gym. I had been hoping to find the time for a while, and now seem to have figured out how to squeeze it in. I have been a member since April 14th. Seven days. I have gone seven times. I jump into things - with both feet. I can't just go when I have time. Now I have to make time every day and work as hard as I can.

Some may see this as a good trait - sometimes it's not so much. Some days I wish I could do things half way - have a more laid-back way of doing things, let things slide on occasion. I just can't. I've tried.

**Benign Acute Childhood Myositis

Dr. K. has gone to Owen Sound (refer to blog entitled "Terrible News" dated November 20, 2007). She stuck to her word. She promised me that she would do a monthly weekend walk-in clinic and keep her on-call at the hospital monthly too. She convinced me she WOULD be back in two years and Owen Sound was a temporary home. Her replacement is a nice man named Dr. Y. Nice guy. Me - being the pessimist that I am - had my hesitations. I figure he knows what he's doing, but I never put as much confidence in him as Dr. K.

Last week my son got sick. Fever, cold, cough, nothing major. After four days of fever I figured I'd better have him checked out and was ELATED to find out that Dr. K. happened to be doing a clinic that day! What luck! She swabbed him for strep - no biggie.

Next day. Dr. K. is back in Owen Sound. Damn Owen Sound. I hate Owen Sound. My little boy wakes up and cannot walk. His calfs hurt him so much that I had to carry him down the stairs. He's crying in pain. Flashback four years. He's 2 1/2 years old and is hospitalized for a serious knee infection that spread to his bloodstream in less than 12 hours. I know I have to bring him in. Dr. Y. is the only option. My anxiety grows.

We go. Dr. Y. examines him, asks a lot of questions about his infection 4 years ago, asks my boy a lot of questions, examines him more, puts him on the table, off the table, on a chair, off a chair. And he says it's a complication of influenza. He has influenza (hence the fever) and it happens to kids after the flu. No need to worry. It will go away.

I'm still a hold-out. Not convinced it's nothing. Who has heard of a kid not walking after the flu? He still has a fever! I go home and research. Turns out it's called Benign Acute Childhood Myositis. He's right. It happens after the flu, mostly in boys aged 3-9, goes away in 3-5 days with no ill effects. It's rare, but well documented.

Two days later my boy is his old self. Bounding around the house, jumping off furniture, zipping up and down the stairs.

He won my trust and gained my respect. My son showed up with a rare childhood illness and he hit the nail on the head. I needed that. Dr. K. knew what she was doing when she found him to take over her practice for two years. Phew. My safety net has been reserected.

**The Circus of Life

Doesn't it feel like some days your life is like a circus? I really hope I am not the only one, because this afternoon, I feel like I'm the starring act in some sort of big tent circus event. A simple playdate. A simple, easy, fun, enjoyable playdate. It turns into breaking up fights over who had the magic wand first. DOES IT REALLY MATTER????? Why can nothing go smoothly in this house? Why does it seem like the more I try to do good for my kids, the more we all end up aggravated and frustrated? Even the simplest of things turn out to be uphill climbs.

I keep telling myself that my life is calm compared to some others. I witnessed a fight between a mom and son the other day that made me count my blessings and I may have actually seen little halos grow over my children's heads as I watched it. There are a couple of families at school that I watch in disbelief at the lack of control the parents have over the kids. In these situations I feel so calm and lucky and blessed.

In situations such as today, where a simple play date included tears, screaming, yelling and fights, I feel like we need SuperNanny to come and rescue us. Perhaps some sort of an institution for misbehaved kids who fight over the stupidest of things. Seriously, if I could pick the very stupidest thing in the world that two kids could possibly fight over, my kids would be the only two on the planet fighting over that.

On the bright side, my anger brings them closer together. After the playdate was over, I told them how upset I was over how it went and told them that I didn't want to see or hear from them until dinner time (it was only 45 minutes until dinner, I'm not that bad of a parent!), now they're playing nicely and quietly in my son's room while listening to music. I suppose that means I got my point across...but why don't I feel better about it?

**Inappropriate Anticipation

I don't think that it is healthy that I am thinking about my upcoming trip to Niagara Falls 5,283 times a day. I swear to you, the anticipation of this thirty hour getaway is engulfing me. I am counting the minutes until we venture out on the road, with nothing but relaxation ahead. I'm pretty sure I have a blog that is written almost exactly the same as this one - about the last time we took this adventure, as the anticipation was huge for that one too.

All I can think about is seeing my last patient, picking up my mom, driving there, and then doing nothing but what I feel like doing whenever I feel like doing it. That is what I remember most about the last time I went. After check-in, my mom, brother and I sat there staring at eachother trying to figure out what we wanted to do. That was such a great feeling...with so many hours ahead of us with no schedule - no calendar - no responsibilities. I can't wait to check into the hotel, go exploring, then a relaxing buffet dinner, followed by a yummy cappuccino while overlooking the lit-up falls. Then maybe I'll take a dip in the hot tub followed by a zip down the water slide. Perhaps after that I'll play a little 2/5 Texas Hold 'Em...by then I'll be ready for my Tim Horton's Coffee and midnight snack, a walk around the casino to watch people playing games I don't understand (like craps...I don't think I'll ever understand that one!) then a snooze in my king sized bed overlooking my personal Jacuzzi tub. In the morning we'll lazily enjoy our enormous egg and home fries breakfast, then maybe a walk to the falls, some sightseeing, maybe some more Texas Hold 'Em at the other casino, a leisurely lunch wherever the day has lead us, and then the afternoon to do whatever - whenever.

To most this sounds just like a nice day. To me, it is the equivalent of a two week tropical vacation at a five star hotel. I hope this lives up to my expectations. I'm worried that I may be psyching myself up for a huge disappointment. I can't help it though. These thoughts are running through my mind...like a man thinking about sex, I just can't get it off my mind! It's terrible. I better not be let down. I'm going to go pack...

**Things that make me go Grrr

Today seems like as good of a day as any to blog about things that irk me. I've been so busy lately that the little things that always bug me have more than bugged me this past week for the simple reason that I don't have time to be bugged. If they were little bugs to me before, they're enormous tarantulas now!

Wet boots. How is it that every pair of winter boots that I have ever worn have leaked water in as if I were wearing a pair of crocs?! Why are winter boots not made better? Am I just not buying the right ones? There is nothing worse than soggy socks inside cold boots all day long...to the point of my skin peeling off! So I bought the ugliest of the ugly rubber boots that go up to my knees and are the worst pattern of plaid ever - but they keep my feet dry and THAT is all that counts in my eyes!

Issue number two: I am always the opposite temperature to everyone else I know. The household is cold? I'm sweating. The household is hot? I'm in my fuzzy penguin robe huddled by the heating vent with my warm bean bag thing around my neck. What is up with that? Hubby and I get into bed every night feeling opposite temperatures. Without fail. I just don't get it.

Issue number three: I have freakishly small hands. It's my thing. The small gloves at work hang off my fingertips, though I have become remarkably good at manipulating difficult tapes with them on. My wrists are fairly normal sized but watches on me look like clown shoes on a clown. I suppose it's the hands that do me in, but I can't get a tiny watch because of my job - it's tough to take a pulse when you need a magnifying glass for your watch! So if I look disproportionate to you, now you know why.

**Busy Crisis

Oh my goodness. I am in a busy crisis right now. This happens every so often - when there is so much on my calendar that every day seems like an uphill climb and even the smallest of changes sends everyone into a tizzy. You should see my calendar. The last two weeks of March consists of the extra-large squares filled to the edges with squished in words and oozing out the sides of the weekends and down the bottom of the pages. Last minute activities such as an all day workshop that all nurses MUST attend has been absolutely impossible to schedule in. The craziest thing? There were about twelve days to choose from and NONE of them worked for me. Today I had an appointment which in the end turned out to require a follow-up appointment. I was devastated! I was SO close to getting to cross something off my calendar. CHECK! DONE! But when they told me I had to follow up and do this all over again, I felt so defeated. ANOTHER thing to fit in, squeeze into any free hour I can. It is impossible. I called to reschedule something else I have this week because it conflicted with a meeting, and the next available time it can be done is in MAY! I had to accept it being in May because, frankly, as overdue as it is already, it feels kinda good to cross something off the calendar and not write it in until the nice clean, uncrowded square in May.

The worst part of this busy crisis is my irritability. My poor kids. A simple "Mommy can you play with me?" makes me tense up because as much as playing is numero uno on my list of priorities, it takes away time from my opportunities to do something else. They sense that and then the guilt meter rises....so now we have an overflowing calendar due to a busy crisis, a boiling over guilt meter, and to top it all off, there's no end in sight!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

**Miss Independence

Would it be terrible of me to say that I enjoy nights that my hubby works? Does that make me sound antisocial and selfish? I don't wish he worked every night but I have to be honest here and say that every so often I like my own space for an evening.

Hubby works from home a couple of evenings a week - locking himself in the office with his computer, emerging only for bathroom and the occasional snack breaks. I have free reign of the rest of the house, the computer, the big screen tv, the wii, the karaoke machine...it's all good.

A typical evening when hubby isn't working consists of tv watching, taking turns catching up on e-mail, maybe a game of cards, perhaps some wii. A typical evening with me, myself and I (my favorite three people) is newspaper reading, people magazine reading, blogging, catching up on e-mail without scheduling in a slot on the computer with hubby, a bowl of smartpop in front of the taped 6 o'clock news, games on the computer, American idol game on my Wii, sometimes a hot bubble bath, more reading in bed on my heating pad and drifting off to sleep.

Sometimes a girl needs a night like that. As much as I love my man, I love my own time too. I'm pretty good at keeping myself company, and a couple of nights a week to reconnect with myself does my body good!

**Comment Gosh Darn It!

The secret hope of every blogger I know is the thirst for comments. If you read a blog, you have a reaction. You have an internal thought or thought process going on. It may be positive, negative, a thought that relates to something in your own life, an idea of how it should have been worded, or even notice a spelling mistake. Just comment gosh darn it! Feedback is the key to a good blog. I enjoy blogging because I feel it is a great place to vent, but the drawback to blogging is the lack of feedback. People read, people think, people don't share.

Share gosh darned it!! If you don't want to post on the blog, write me an e-mail. I like feedback good or bad. I won't take it personally if you disagree. I swear!

**Painting Hell

Typical Me. I'm bored one day. How about a mini home renovation project? What a great idea! Something productive to fill my evenings that hubby is working. DING DING DING! ALARM BELLS! No "mini" home renovation project that I have ever taken on has proven to be at all close to "mini".

How difficult could it be to paint the baseboards and quarter round? When we bought the house we took the carpet out of the main floor and put in hardwood. The quarter round put in by the hardwood floor guys had only been primed - not painted, and now - 5 years later, it was starting to look pretty cruddy.

I put the painter's tape around the edges of the kitchen. I started there because there really is minimal baseboardage in the kitchen since the cabinets occupy most of it. I started painting. So far so good. Looks nice. Pretty simple. Ding ding ding, there are the bells. Baseboards; allow me to introduce you to the windows, door frames and doors. Oops. Look at that. The builder painted the door frames, doors, window sills and baseboards CREAM COLOUR. What have I been painting with? Blindingly white WHITE colour (though I'm pretty sure that's not the actual name of the colour).

Mini home renovation project, meet humongous undertaking causing many long nights, sore hands and even some swearing. I'm still not done. Me and my ideas....

**Falling for Niagara

For my 30th birthday my mom took myself and my brother on a weekend getaway to Niagara Falls. Granted it was three months after my actual birthday, but it was still a nice way to celebrate a big birthday in a quiet, family way.

My mom is turning 60 next month. Being the thoughtful, creative person I am, I thought of a great idea...how about a weekend getaway to Niagara Falls?! No, seriously, we had a good time, it was nice family bonding time sans children and frankly I can't be away for more than two days anyway. I was in the preliminary stages of planning and decided to price hunt online. Just out of curiosity I randomly picked a day in April (less chance of snow than March plus better chance of decent weather to do outside stuff too, and I didn't feel too constrained to dates since my birthday getaway didn't fall anywhere near my birthday). I was not ready to book, just looking into prices.

My random day in April pulled up amounts of $159-$179 per night, but at the bottom of the webpage for reservations at Fallsview Casino Resort Hotel (where we stayed), there is an ad for the Hilton Fallsview Hotel which is connected by a glass overpass to Fallsview (and is a nicer hotel actually with a full waterpark inside). I scanned down the list of rooms at the Hilton and at the bottom of the page was the price for a two bedroom suite. Sleeps six. One bedroom has 2 queen beds, one a king bed, attached to a bathroom with a jaccuzzi tub. Here's the catch. The price for this room was $13.50 per night. WHAT?! Clearly a mistake, I booked it! I figured, worse comes to worse I'll loose the $15.30 (what it came to with tax), but I kinda figured they had to honour it, right?

The craziest part of it all was that the day I picked was the ONLY day this price appeared on! I checked every other date between now and the end of April, and the one I randomly picked was the sole day the error was made on the website.

I booked, waited a few days until I needed to book the day off from work, and called to confirm. No record of the reservation. They searched under my name, my confirmation number and the date. No luck. I explained that I had the confirmation e-mail and was happy to forward it along.

"Let me speak with my supervisor and we'll call you back in ten minutes" is what I was told.

I swear I held my breath for the whole ten minutes. Low and behold, my phone rang.

"Hi this is Kirsten calling from The Hilton Fallsview. We found your reservation and it was booked for $13.50, which was a mistake on the website. However, we will honour that price and we look forward to seeing you. We hope you enjoy your stay with us."

It's as if the gift came wrapped, tagged and ready to go! No decisions, no planning, just a fancy shmancy room for fifteen bucks. Aren't I a generous daughter? On the bright side, after hearing the price, my brother agreed to split it with me...

**Snowbank

Today on my way out of a patient's home my front passenger wheel collided with a tall snowbank. I dug and dug and dug and dug and pushed and pushed and pushed and cried for an hour. I still had seven patients left to see, two of them with strict time constraints, and no matter what I - or the person helping me - did would not budge the car an inch.

After an hour of digging and pushing and crying (I'm such a girl), I looked down at my bare hands (nope, no gloves) and saw the tips of two of my fingers on my left hand starch white in funny squiggly-lined patterns. I ran inside the patient's home to wash my hands in warm water - leaving her digging on her own. After a good few minutes of warm water, they turned pink again, but remained completely numb.

It was then that I gave in and called my roadside assistance (that came with my car). TWO HOUR WAIT FOR A TOW TRUCK! "But I can't wait for two hours!" I bellowed into my cell phone, but to no avail. That was that. I was going to sit in my car, feeling sorry for myself, calling my remaining patients to break the news until (DUH DUH DUH DAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH), HUBBY TO THE RESCUE!

He drove from work - about 25 minutes away - to try and dig me out. Once he realized that the bumper was stuck up on the bank and was raising the car up, not allowing the wheels to make enough contact with the ground, he broke up the ice with the handle of a shovel shoved under the car, and pushed me out.

My hero.

He was soaking wet and frozen, I was covered in dirt and salt, and am currently unable to raise my arms, but we got it out.

My fingers regained feeling now, my jacket is in the washing machine, and I am putting an emergency pair of mittens and buying a mini-shovel for my car TOMORROW.

I made it to five of my seven remaining patients before school pick-up time, and I keep telling myself that one day I'll look back at this and laugh..........................................................

**Superbowl Funday

I would love to say that football interests me. I would be elated to say that I want to learn about this fascinating game. It would be my pleasure to tell you that I look forward to the super bowl. I cannot.

I do not understand football. I have had numerous people, at various points in my life, attempt to explain this game to me, and there must be a blockage in the football centre of my brain, because I just don't get it. There are men, dressed in big outfits, throwing an awkward shaped ball at eachother, plowing eachother down, piling on top of one another-as if the ball is really going to go somewhere after the first 300 pound guy lies down on top of it! Why? And why does this peculiar game become so earth-shatteringly important at the end of the season? And how do chicken wings and chili factor in? Why do people have parties to celebrate this game? I just do not understand.

All the other sports seem logical to me. Hockey, baseball, basketball, soccer, even golf all seem to require skill and strategy. Football - not so much.

Since my teenage years numerous boyfriends, even girlfriends, or their parents have tried to get me up to pace; but to no avail. I am hopeless. I suppose I can chalk it all up to my disinterest and my lack of desire to learn. That sure sounds better than "my pure stupidity".

**Wii Search

So we have been on a Nintendo Wii search for a while now, but to no avail. I don't understand how something that has been out on the market for so incredibly long can still only last in stores for twenty minutes. All of the stores I have been into (Best Buy, Future Shop, Toys R Us, Zellers, The Bay) have all said the same things. They come in one day - no one knows when, they last for twenty minutes and are sold out again.

I don't understand how a regular Joe, such as myself, is supposed to be at one of those stores in the twenty minutes once a month that they are in stock. What are the chances of that? I am no statistics buff but it seems pretty close to nil to me! What boggles my mind even more is that so many people I know have them! I clearly am missing something. All the stores claim to have no idea when the next shipment will arrive and outright refuse to share any speculative information with the regular consumer.

All I want is a cool gaming system that I can enjoy with my kids. I am trying to find someone to take $300 from me for this thing and I just don't GET why it is so difficult!

**Profound

I post a grumpy, angry, bitchy post last night, and tonight it is all put into perspective.

Tonight while watching a video of himself when he was younger, my son said - out of the blue - "I wish I were still a baby so I had more life left".

Wow.

What do you say to that?

He gets it. He really gets it. Life. Death. Time.

My son who has been 6 for a mere two weeks just completely floored me with one little comment.

**Sucky Days

Some days just suck, don't they? From the moment I woke up this morning until this exact second, so many things have gone wrong and pissed me off. It's one of those days.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed I guess, as did my husband and kids because everything has been an uphill climb, a fight, a disagreement...everything.

The snow this morning caused me to be hugely late for all my morning calls, not to mention the fact that I am normally off Tuesdays but worked this one because of something I had later in the week. It would have been a good day to stay home. At the end of my day as I walked in the door, my son and daughter were fighting - CONSTANTLY, and when they came up for air, they were misbehaving.

This evening after supper I got an upset stomach which led to an argument with hubby about cleaning up the kitchen after dinner while sick on the couch, followed by another argument with my son who never seems to listen the first time - EVER.

Following that confrontation, my mom calls with yet another change to our plans later in the week, angering me even further as I have already dedicated so much freaking time to rearranging my patients to accommodate this outing, and now casually, while discussing something else, she mentions "oh yeah, and we can't go until 5:30pm instead of 2pm. Um, hello? Are you new here? Did we not make these plans a month ago? Did I not tell you that I have gone to great lengths to arrange my work schedule around it? Be done on time to go? Hi. Thanks for that.

So I wish I could climb back into bed and start the day again. Maybe I would be able to right some wrongs the second time around.

I feel better having had this bitch session. Thanks for listening. I need a drink.

**Dexter & Juno

HELP! I HAVE BLOG BLOCK! It's writer's block reserved only for bloggers. Out of desperation and so as to not disappoint my loyal readers (sarcasm-not sure anyone reads this really), I shall blog about a great thought-provoking show as well as a good movie.

I must say that I am NOT one to talk to about movies. I have seen about 3 movies since I got pregnant with my son - seven years ago. One of them was Juno and it was great! For hubby's birthday he was given a babysitting certificate as well as a movie gift-card (it's great when the wife gets to benefit from his gifts, eh?) and we headed out for all-you-can-eat sushi followed by the movie Juno. Needless to say, I cried right through it, as did a lot of other people. A pregnant lady was sobbing so hard on the way out I thought I may need to deliver her baby right there on the sticky, popcorn-cushioned floor. The thing about the movie though is that it wasn't sad. It was a happy, uplifting, feel-good movie...that left everyone in tears. Go figure. Regardless, it's worth the price of admission (which has gone DOWN by the way since the last time I was at the movies!! Wonders never cease).

Secondly, as we were mourning the writer's strike and trying to find things to do with our evenings, hubby "got" - not so much in a legal manner - seasons one and two of the show "Dexter". It ran on Showcase in the States and a cleaned-up version will air here starting shortly, but it got great buzz in the States so we thought we'd give it a try. Wow. What a show. I couldn't sleep the whole first week we were watching it. Dexter is a CSI type guy who is also a serial killer. The catch? He only kills bad guys - the ones the "system" has failed to reprimand adequately. We are about half way through season two now and every episode is worth it's weight in gold. I highly recommend "getting" it. Legally of course. :-)

**For The Love Of Sleep

I get made fun of in my house for my admiration for my sacred shut-eye. I do feel very passionate about sleep. It is one of my favorite things to do. I wish I could do it more, but time constraints prevent me from doing so. There is nothing like the feeling of crawling into a cold, fresh, clean bed pulling the covers up, tucking them under my chin, and achieving the ultimate in relaxation as I drift off into dreamland.

I am one of those people who needs their eight hours a night, or else I physically cannot function. I wish I were like my hubby who can sleep for 6 hours, wake up and feel the same as he would had he slept for 9 or 10. I do not enjoy the fact that I need a lot of sleep to function well, but I definitely do enjoy the act of sleeping.

In the summer when my family takes off out west for 15 days, I stay up late, wake up early and take a 2 hour pre-dinner nap. I probably could sleep straight through from my nap to morning, but I have yet to do that. Napping is under-rated. Numerous studies have proven an increase in productivity, improvement of mood, and sharper memories in those who have a 90 minute nap each day....therefore I feel it would be a great idea to make it a law. Those who do not partake in the above mentioned ninety minute siesta will be charged with negligence causing sleepless distress.

I'm sleep deprived right now - therefore I have an excuse for being irrational.

**Driving mishaps

Why must there be people in this world who drive so awfully? Signaling for miles and miles just to turn in the opposite direction, driving 30 in a 60 zone - in the left lane!! I don't get it. Do these people not need to take a driving test? Did they somehow find a way to bypass the system and not write or drive the tests?

What I would like to know is if people who come here from another country have to take OUR tests in order to drive HERE, or if their licenses are accepted by default. Maybe it's okay to drive with your right wheels in the right lane and your left wheels in the left in Mongolia. Who knows. Who am I to say. I don't even know where Mongolia is, let alone their driving laws.

The best thing about driving in Toronto is that if someone messes up, cuts you off, or comes close to causing an accident, they get angry at you! Today I was driving on the 407 and a 20-something chick in a BMW SUV cuts me off when she didn't check her blind spot. I honk. She gives ME the finger. I think she needs to re-do her driving test. In THIS country.

**Opposite of Easy

I realize that this is going to sound cliche, but parenting sure isn't easy! I don't get it - why one day you feel like you are leading your children in the right direction with the right amount of discipline and the right balance of leeway versus boundaries, then a day comes along when you second guess all of your previous choices.

My main goal in my parenting is not to fuck up my kids. Sorry to be so blunt, but it's true. I know that things said and done at this age can and will be carried with them for the rest of their lives. I want to give them firm boundaries and be tough on them to the point of making decent little people, but allow them to enjoy their childhood and learn to figure things out for themselves as well. Some days that balance does not get struck to my expectations.

My son is a challenge. He is great at pushing me and his dad to our limits, then when we're about to crack, he concedes. He loves to be oppositional. Even if it is something you know he wants, he resists if he knows we want it for him.

Sometimes he's an angel. Leave him with my mom as a babysitter and suddenly he grows a halo. At school he excels, and he is usually well behaved when amongst friends. But put him in a mood where he wants something he's not getting, or doesn't want something he has to do, and a whole new boy is born. Stricter limits seem to be the only cure for this malady, though then the guilt sets in. (Pretend you can hear in my head) "Maybe he's acting out because he's upset about something", "maybe if I'm more lenient it will be more effective than being more strict", "no, that has never worked for him", "Maybe it's because he needs more of a challenge in his life - more male friends, more kids that are older than him rather than always being the oldest", "maybe we're too tough on him", "maybe we're not tough enough"..................

...need I continue? They say you shouldn't second guess your parenting decisions, but I'm not sure what they say about third guessing, forth guessing, quintuple guessing. Parenting ain't easy.
Whoever 'they' are sure got that one right!!

**Eternity

If I were to sum up our family's winter break in a few short phrases, I would have to begin with 'BOXING DAY STOMACH FLU', followed by 'NEW YEAR'S EVE EAR INFECTION', topped off with 'COUGHS AND COLDS ALL AROUND', and let's not forget the constant 'I'M BORED' which gave these two weeks the perfect finishing touch.

Is it back to school time yet? Even my son - who tries his hardest to be difficult and opposes everything he possibly can - began the break with "I don't like school! I don't want to go back!" (with a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye), and by mid-last week he moved on to "we go back to school soon, right?", and now we've graduated to the full truth, and nothing but the truth; "How many more days until school starts again? I miss school!".

What kind of cruel joke are these school boards trying to pull?? Why would you give kids two weeks off in the middle of the worst weather every year, when there are more days of everything in the universe being closed than any other time???? I don't get it! Why can't they just give them a few days off for Christmas, one or two for New Year's and call it a day?

Teachers of the world please don't hate me, but there are still six more days until return-to-school bliss and my nerves, energy and creative brain cells are wearing quite thin.