A couple of weeks ago I dragged my child to the doctor for an appointment. He had been ill off and on for a couple of months and I thought maybe he had Mono or something. While we were sitting with the nurse practitioner he proceeded to tell her of symptoms he was experiencing that he had not shared with me. I left the room while she examined him and when I came back in, she informed me that he had something called a pilonidal cyst. It was just above his tailbone and is apparently a very common affliction. She advised it might need surgery and she would speak to the surgeon. My jaw dropped. The teenager wouldn't tell his mom what was going on, because it involved his butt. And of course he would not show his mother his butt either. So this is what was making him sick all this time. Our one concern besides his obvious health, was that volleyball championships were coming up in a month. Really? Who gives a crap about sports when your child might need surgery? Uhm, apparently it crossed our mind.
Two weeks later, his symptoms worsened and we headed back up. The nurse practitioner came out from examining him again and says he's having surgery tomorrow at lunch time! WTF? Norwossa volleyball is here on Friday! Well, he won't be playing. He will be put out for the procedure and will have the incision packed for a few weeks which will require frequent trips to the clinic to change the packing etc. Wow. So now he has to break it to his coach and his teammates. That, and tell them that he needs to have his butt operated on. Insert chuckle here.
So yesterday Dominic and I headed up to the hospital for the procedure. Turns out they weren't going to put him out. They would just use a local anesthetic. Okay that's not as scary. Now given that this was a minor ailment and procedure, I chose not to tell my mother or my mother-in-law about the procedure prior to. Dom didn't want his two grandmothers at his bedside for what he felt was a somewhat embarrassing procedure. You see according to the wonderful surgeon who operated on him, his ailment is also known as Hairy-Ass disease. So my poor, private 17 year old man-child had to bare his behind to a room full of female nurses and surgeon. That was bad enough, he didn't want to discuss it was grandmas or show his mother. Good news was, it was removed and stitched up and that's all there is to it. No need for packing and multiple visits. And he might even be able to play volleyball next week. First thing he wants to do as he is getting dressed, "Mom can we go see the guys?" So we head from the hospital, straight over to the school. He walks into the gym to the applause of his teammates. It was a pretty special thing to see.
Now the second part of this story has to do with the magical powers that some parents have. I have always told my own children that it is always best to tell me the truth. The reason for this is that I always find out things that they are hiding. It is an innate, magical ability. People just randomly tell me things sometimes which leads me to find out information that my kids didn't want me to know. I think it is related to the whole, moms have eyes in the back of their heads mystery. I tell my kids that God just gives me information when I need it, whether I was looking for it or not. I also channel the spirit of Nancy Drew when necessary and find out more. And don't get me wrong, my kids are good kids. No big troubles that I find out about.
As Dominic got wheeled away I proceeded to tell Marilyn the nurse, who is also part of my extended family, how we chose to save the details of Dom needing a procedure until after the fact to tell his grandmothers. She agreed that there was no need to get them worried.
About ten minutes after I was discussing this with her, the door to the day-surgery ward opens and who walks in but my mother! The second I saw her I thought crap, how did she find out? I'm in trouble now. Then I noticed hanging around her neck was her volunteer tag. My mother has faithfully volunteered at the hospital for decades helping patients in every way she can. She didn't know I was there. She sees me and takes a moment to register and then says, "What are you doing here?" I told her that Dominic was having a cyst removed. She said, "Well I didn't know that." I said, "I know I was just going to tell you about it when he was done." Then saved by the bell, Marilyn walks over and helps her with whatever it was she had actually come in for in the first place. I immediately texted my sister to share the event with her to the tune of many texted lols. We had discussed earlier in the day that mom had an appointment of her own there at 11a.m. and Dom was originally supposed to go in at noon. I was concerned that we might run into her then. Then Dom's appointment was bumped back to 2pm so I figured he was safe. Wrong.
I texted my sister, "See you can't lie to a mom! They always find sh-t out!" A couple of minutes later, Marilyn walks back in laughing and says, "Busted!!!" My sister then texts me and says she was convinced that our mom invented GPS and that she had been implanted with one at birth.
So tomorrow his dressing needs to be changed. He realizes it will be difficult to do himself, but he doesn't want his mom to do it and see his butt. So he has agreed that his dad will have to take care of it for him. :)
So the moral of the story is that it is true, I tell my own children, you can't hide stuff from moms. They usually find out. It's a magical power. And apparently it is genetic. I inherited it from my mommy.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
I am a gazelle. A 45 year old gazelle.
It's the March break. I have a week to do pretty much whatever I want. It has not amounted to much so far, but I have been relaxing to say the least. No having to run around anywhere or work, other than the day to day laundry, grocery shopping and tidying up.
Yesterday I thought I would get off my almost 45 year old behind and do something I have thought about. I would go to the gym. My daughter Jessica goes to the gym almost daily. She works out for a couple of hours at a time. I have never seen her work out.
So after a lunch with my dearest friend Michelle (which consisted of a dietary conscious ruben and some fries) I headed over to meet up with Jessica. I squeezed myself into my yoga pants, a tee shirt and some runners. Left my mane of now natural curls hanging down. They wouldn't bother me.
As I enter the cardio room I am thankful there are only a couple of people in there. I walk over to an elliptical machine. I have heard these are easier on your knees than a treadmill. As I stand before it I have to ask Jessica for instructions. She started telling me where I need to put my feet. I told her I had that much figured out. What buttons am I supposed to press to get it going? So there is a dial for the incline and one for resistance. My 17 year old physically fit child tells me she starts out at 10 and 5. Well okay, I'll do that too. I put my head phones in my ears and away I go. My mantra, I am a gazelle.
I find that I need to hold on to the hand rails as I feel like I am peddling at an awkward angle. Or possibly I need help balancing on the damn thing. Five minutes agonizingly slowly goes by. The calorie counter says I have burned approximately 20 calories. You have got to be freaking kidding me. Sweat is running down every crack and crevice of my being. Recognize now a pony tail would have been an excellent idea. Breathe in, breathe out, you can do this. The machine says if I do this for an hour, yes an hour, I can burn approximately 590 calories. Really? That's it? But after 5 minutes, an hour seems an impossibility. Definitely.
I decide maybe I need to change the incline. Yes, maybe I would feel more comfortable if I reduced the incline from a 10 to a 5. Okay, now I am at 5 and 5. That feels a bit better. I am a gazelle. I can do this.
Then I look over at Jessica. Jessica is now at 13 and 10. She is going full tilt. She has her hands on her hips. She does not need to hold on to anything for balance, life support , nothing. She is the gazelle. I am the water buffalo in comparison.
I persevere for 15 minutes. It is pretty much all I can do. I count down the seconds until my 15 minutes are up. I carefully dismount my mechanical steed and head over to the water fountain. Next time note to self, definitely bring a water bottle.
I walk back in, Jessica is still going. I decide a tread mill is a safer bet. 15 minutes on a slightly inclined tread mill goes by very quickly. While I am walking she does a rowing exercise and then crunches with a small medicine ball. I walk. I get off. I stretch a bit and I am done. My 17 year old gazelle has been at this over an hour and a half. The 45 year old gazelle (in 2 weeks) managed to get through 30 minutes without being carried away on a stretcher.
We get into the truck to run some errands. My right hip is telling me it is not in the right place. And then PMS strikes. Day 21 was a few days ago, and now my ovaries are complaining about their existence. We head over to M&Ms. We need their fabulous crinkle cut fries to go along with my fabulous chili for supper tonight. Oh look, we are coincidentally in the parking lot of my chiropractor. I need to make an appointment. I walk in and lucky me he can take me right away. Lay on your side, bend your knee, breathe in and hear a deafening crunch, clunk and ahhhhh. Much better. Drive home, head to the medicine basket and pop 3 ibuprofen. I am a gazelle.
The gazelle will rise again. With a pony tail and a water bottle. She will recognize she is not 17 and does not gallop about on a regular basis. She will try the elliptical again, but on a much lower incline. She won't look at the calorie counter either. I am a mature gazelle.
Yesterday I thought I would get off my almost 45 year old behind and do something I have thought about. I would go to the gym. My daughter Jessica goes to the gym almost daily. She works out for a couple of hours at a time. I have never seen her work out.
So after a lunch with my dearest friend Michelle (which consisted of a dietary conscious ruben and some fries) I headed over to meet up with Jessica. I squeezed myself into my yoga pants, a tee shirt and some runners. Left my mane of now natural curls hanging down. They wouldn't bother me.
As I enter the cardio room I am thankful there are only a couple of people in there. I walk over to an elliptical machine. I have heard these are easier on your knees than a treadmill. As I stand before it I have to ask Jessica for instructions. She started telling me where I need to put my feet. I told her I had that much figured out. What buttons am I supposed to press to get it going? So there is a dial for the incline and one for resistance. My 17 year old physically fit child tells me she starts out at 10 and 5. Well okay, I'll do that too. I put my head phones in my ears and away I go. My mantra, I am a gazelle.
I find that I need to hold on to the hand rails as I feel like I am peddling at an awkward angle. Or possibly I need help balancing on the damn thing. Five minutes agonizingly slowly goes by. The calorie counter says I have burned approximately 20 calories. You have got to be freaking kidding me. Sweat is running down every crack and crevice of my being. Recognize now a pony tail would have been an excellent idea. Breathe in, breathe out, you can do this. The machine says if I do this for an hour, yes an hour, I can burn approximately 590 calories. Really? That's it? But after 5 minutes, an hour seems an impossibility. Definitely.
I decide maybe I need to change the incline. Yes, maybe I would feel more comfortable if I reduced the incline from a 10 to a 5. Okay, now I am at 5 and 5. That feels a bit better. I am a gazelle. I can do this.
Then I look over at Jessica. Jessica is now at 13 and 10. She is going full tilt. She has her hands on her hips. She does not need to hold on to anything for balance, life support , nothing. She is the gazelle. I am the water buffalo in comparison.
I persevere for 15 minutes. It is pretty much all I can do. I count down the seconds until my 15 minutes are up. I carefully dismount my mechanical steed and head over to the water fountain. Next time note to self, definitely bring a water bottle.
I walk back in, Jessica is still going. I decide a tread mill is a safer bet. 15 minutes on a slightly inclined tread mill goes by very quickly. While I am walking she does a rowing exercise and then crunches with a small medicine ball. I walk. I get off. I stretch a bit and I am done. My 17 year old gazelle has been at this over an hour and a half. The 45 year old gazelle (in 2 weeks) managed to get through 30 minutes without being carried away on a stretcher.
We get into the truck to run some errands. My right hip is telling me it is not in the right place. And then PMS strikes. Day 21 was a few days ago, and now my ovaries are complaining about their existence. We head over to M&Ms. We need their fabulous crinkle cut fries to go along with my fabulous chili for supper tonight. Oh look, we are coincidentally in the parking lot of my chiropractor. I need to make an appointment. I walk in and lucky me he can take me right away. Lay on your side, bend your knee, breathe in and hear a deafening crunch, clunk and ahhhhh. Much better. Drive home, head to the medicine basket and pop 3 ibuprofen. I am a gazelle.
The gazelle will rise again. With a pony tail and a water bottle. She will recognize she is not 17 and does not gallop about on a regular basis. She will try the elliptical again, but on a much lower incline. She won't look at the calorie counter either. I am a mature gazelle.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Maybe I should have stayed home....
Well our annual trip out to Abram lake to go camping started out a little rocky. It began with a sick child waking us up at 6:30am because he was sick and Bob ended up taking him up to emerg to be treated for strep throat. He stayed behind with his dad, and I took the other 4 children out to the lake.
This has already been a beautiful summer even if I have only enjoyed a few weeks of it to date. When we arrived in Sioux Lookout it was in the plus 30s with the humidex. Bob had brought the camper up the day before and got everything set up for me. We always have a site with electricity, water and sewer hookup. This is as close to roughing it as I have endeavoured with this gaggle of children and my need for my flat iron. So the minute we arrive we turn on the air conditioning. Make sure the doors and windows are closed and wait for the coolness to settle on our sweating, stinky skin. Once everything was transferred from my Suburban to the camper and then unpacked we were still waiting for the coolness to settle in. It wasn't happening. Long story short, the air conditioner is not working. So, we opened all of the windows and thankfully the fan system does work, so we had some air circulating to make things bearable. The following torrential down pour with accompanying hail storm also cooled things off that evening. No hail damage where we were, but 5 minutes down the road there was. Lucky us.
I turned the water on outside to get it flowing to the camper. I checked the kitchen water tap and out flowed a pinkish water. Bob forgot to flush the antifreeze stuff out of the pipes before he left. That's okay. I just let it run for a bit. After I had done this I headed outside. I quickly noticed that there was water running from under my bathroom outside the camper. I yelled to Jessica to check the bathroom! Well the shower taps were on and water was spraying around the bathroom. If that weren't bad enough, let me tell you the real kicker. Because we don't use the teeny tiny little shower in the camper, I had the brilliant idea to put a plastic shelving unit in there. The other brilliant idea was for Dom and Noah to put all of their clothes in plastic laundry baskets, which fit perfectly into the plastic shelves. So, that being said, your next visual should be two laundry baskets of clean clothes getting sprinkled with pink water. When her brilliantness put the shelving unit in the shower/tub I guess I inadvertently hit the tap to the on position and there you have it, wet bathroom, wet clothes. I hung some of the clothes up and had to wash some others. Nothing stained with the pink stuff thankfully.
Fast forward to a week later. I knew I was going to have to drain the waste water tanks in the camper. I had never done it before, but I know as my favourite saying goes, "it isn't rocket science". So my dear brother in law Pete came over to supervise. He told Jessica that she should hold the sewer hose/pipe to make sure it stays in the ground while the liquids go down. So picture Jessica lying under the camper on a towel holding the sewer pipe which runs from the camper into the ground.
Next, I don a pair of rubber gloves for this task. Again under Pete's watchful eye, I crawl under the camper and I pull the "black water valve". For those of you who don't camp in a camper this would be for anything that comes from the toilet. We pretty much have a don't poop in the camper policy. There is a lovely bathroom/shower house meters from our camper. There was a short gushing sound and then nothing. Pete says uh oh, it must be blocked. I'm thinking "crap", no pun intended. Then we notice. When my dear sweet husband brought the camper up, he hooked up the sewer hose/pipe thingy so I wouldn't have to, however we have an outdoor kitchen which has a separate tank/drain. He hooked the hose up to that drain, not the one I was just yanking on. We hadn't used the outdoor sink, so there was nothing to drain there.
Now here is the problem. I pulled the black water valve, and black water did move. It filled up about a 6 inch section of about 3 inch pipe before I could quickly close the valve back up. Thank God the pipe cover was securely in place. But now I have about 6 cups of black water to deal with in that pipe. There are groans all around. So I grab a big black garbage bag. Wrap the entire pipe unit up in it, remove the pipe cover and allow the black water to flow into bag. I was keeping my rubber gloved fingers crossed as this was not a brand name garbage bag, but some bargain special. I grimaced as I heard and felt the black water flow. I carefully removed the bag, like my life depended on it, moved it aside and tied a big honkin knot in it. Remember the no pooping policy? Yeah, well someone didn't get the memo. So thankfully once again, I had gloves on. So I pull the hose over and firmly attach it to the correct stinky pipe. Then I pull the black water lever again. Now remember who is lying on the other side of the trailer, laying down holding the pipe in place? Another visual with audio for you. Poor beautiful Jessica, holding the pipe and gagging and heaving all the while. I tried not to breathe while I was under there too, but the sight and sound of Jessica and of Pete laughing hysterically brought me to shrieks of laughter too.
So then I pulled the grey water lever and all of my dish water flushed things through. It was at about this time that Pete yells over to Jessica. "Hey Jess, I don't think you need to hold that pipe, it goes down about 2 feet into the ground!" You want to see a 16 year old girl mad, make her hold a sewage pipe just for fun.
The entire camping experience has been wonderful despite these issues. The weather is beautiful, I read 8 books my first week (and yes I started out with the Shades of Grey trilogy), I have a bit of a tan and have relaxed completely. We have wonderful company. Only one other problem. My dear sweet husband is home working while we are here. A couple more days and he will join us. (Oh and my air conditioner still doesn't work)
This has already been a beautiful summer even if I have only enjoyed a few weeks of it to date. When we arrived in Sioux Lookout it was in the plus 30s with the humidex. Bob had brought the camper up the day before and got everything set up for me. We always have a site with electricity, water and sewer hookup. This is as close to roughing it as I have endeavoured with this gaggle of children and my need for my flat iron. So the minute we arrive we turn on the air conditioning. Make sure the doors and windows are closed and wait for the coolness to settle on our sweating, stinky skin. Once everything was transferred from my Suburban to the camper and then unpacked we were still waiting for the coolness to settle in. It wasn't happening. Long story short, the air conditioner is not working. So, we opened all of the windows and thankfully the fan system does work, so we had some air circulating to make things bearable. The following torrential down pour with accompanying hail storm also cooled things off that evening. No hail damage where we were, but 5 minutes down the road there was. Lucky us.
I turned the water on outside to get it flowing to the camper. I checked the kitchen water tap and out flowed a pinkish water. Bob forgot to flush the antifreeze stuff out of the pipes before he left. That's okay. I just let it run for a bit. After I had done this I headed outside. I quickly noticed that there was water running from under my bathroom outside the camper. I yelled to Jessica to check the bathroom! Well the shower taps were on and water was spraying around the bathroom. If that weren't bad enough, let me tell you the real kicker. Because we don't use the teeny tiny little shower in the camper, I had the brilliant idea to put a plastic shelving unit in there. The other brilliant idea was for Dom and Noah to put all of their clothes in plastic laundry baskets, which fit perfectly into the plastic shelves. So, that being said, your next visual should be two laundry baskets of clean clothes getting sprinkled with pink water. When her brilliantness put the shelving unit in the shower/tub I guess I inadvertently hit the tap to the on position and there you have it, wet bathroom, wet clothes. I hung some of the clothes up and had to wash some others. Nothing stained with the pink stuff thankfully.
Fast forward to a week later. I knew I was going to have to drain the waste water tanks in the camper. I had never done it before, but I know as my favourite saying goes, "it isn't rocket science". So my dear brother in law Pete came over to supervise. He told Jessica that she should hold the sewer hose/pipe to make sure it stays in the ground while the liquids go down. So picture Jessica lying under the camper on a towel holding the sewer pipe which runs from the camper into the ground.
Next, I don a pair of rubber gloves for this task. Again under Pete's watchful eye, I crawl under the camper and I pull the "black water valve". For those of you who don't camp in a camper this would be for anything that comes from the toilet. We pretty much have a don't poop in the camper policy. There is a lovely bathroom/shower house meters from our camper. There was a short gushing sound and then nothing. Pete says uh oh, it must be blocked. I'm thinking "crap", no pun intended. Then we notice. When my dear sweet husband brought the camper up, he hooked up the sewer hose/pipe thingy so I wouldn't have to, however we have an outdoor kitchen which has a separate tank/drain. He hooked the hose up to that drain, not the one I was just yanking on. We hadn't used the outdoor sink, so there was nothing to drain there.
Now here is the problem. I pulled the black water valve, and black water did move. It filled up about a 6 inch section of about 3 inch pipe before I could quickly close the valve back up. Thank God the pipe cover was securely in place. But now I have about 6 cups of black water to deal with in that pipe. There are groans all around. So I grab a big black garbage bag. Wrap the entire pipe unit up in it, remove the pipe cover and allow the black water to flow into bag. I was keeping my rubber gloved fingers crossed as this was not a brand name garbage bag, but some bargain special. I grimaced as I heard and felt the black water flow. I carefully removed the bag, like my life depended on it, moved it aside and tied a big honkin knot in it. Remember the no pooping policy? Yeah, well someone didn't get the memo. So thankfully once again, I had gloves on. So I pull the hose over and firmly attach it to the correct stinky pipe. Then I pull the black water lever again. Now remember who is lying on the other side of the trailer, laying down holding the pipe in place? Another visual with audio for you. Poor beautiful Jessica, holding the pipe and gagging and heaving all the while. I tried not to breathe while I was under there too, but the sight and sound of Jessica and of Pete laughing hysterically brought me to shrieks of laughter too.
So then I pulled the grey water lever and all of my dish water flushed things through. It was at about this time that Pete yells over to Jessica. "Hey Jess, I don't think you need to hold that pipe, it goes down about 2 feet into the ground!" You want to see a 16 year old girl mad, make her hold a sewage pipe just for fun.
The entire camping experience has been wonderful despite these issues. The weather is beautiful, I read 8 books my first week (and yes I started out with the Shades of Grey trilogy), I have a bit of a tan and have relaxed completely. We have wonderful company. Only one other problem. My dear sweet husband is home working while we are here. A couple more days and he will join us. (Oh and my air conditioner still doesn't work)
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
I thought you were kidding.....
Well life has been extremely busy since my last post. Basketball and volleyball seasons have come to an end. I was a proud mom at the Athletic Awards banquet when Dom was awarded the MVP for junior boys volleyball and Jessica was voted most improved in senior girls basketball.
Soccer and baseball are under way, but they too are winding down. Tonight we had baseball at 5:30 and soccer at 7pm. After driving to and from I was able to sit and watch my daughter Nicki play some soccer. It was a beautiful evening and I didn't need my sleeping back to snuggle in to watch a game. Anyone who lives here with kids who play know what I am referring to. Soccer and baseball are typically played with blowing Arctic winds and you have to bundle up.
Anyway, Nicki had a breakaway and scored a fabulous goal. I was so happy I was paying attention and not gabbing when it happened. I saw the whole thing. At the end of the game she says, "Can we go to DQ?" Of course after her fabulous play and the fact that it was 26 C out, I said sure. I did not bring any treats for any of the 4 boys/men who were possibly at home. It was too hot and they would have been a mess by the time we got there is my rational reason for not doing so.
A small DQ blizzard is usually consumed in the 15 minute drive home. As we neared home I stuffed my empty blizzard cup into Nicki's and I said, "We'll hide the evidence in here." As we pulled into the driveway we grabbed our stuff (my jam packed purse that Jessica hates and everyone else thinks is cool and Nicki's soccer gear) and headed up the sidewalk.
Bob and Josh were sitting outside. Nicki headed in before me. As I hit the doorstep, Bob says "I was just thinking, I hope Cindy brings me a treat from DQ." At this point I thought, crap do I have ice cream on my face, or is this purely coincidental that he was thinking about DQ and we sort of secretly went there? I apologized for not bringing any home and headed into the house.
When I saw Nicki inside, I whispered, "You didn't tell your dad that we went to DQ did you?" She said, "No, but he saw the blizzard cups in my hand." Of course picture the look of disbelief on my face. :P
I looked at her and said, "I told you we needed to hide the evidence!!!!!"
And she said....
"I thought you were just kidding"
So then to explain to her, how next time my hubby goes to Tim Horton's for a coffee, it is unlikely that he will think to bring me an Ice Capp. :P
Soccer and baseball are under way, but they too are winding down. Tonight we had baseball at 5:30 and soccer at 7pm. After driving to and from I was able to sit and watch my daughter Nicki play some soccer. It was a beautiful evening and I didn't need my sleeping back to snuggle in to watch a game. Anyone who lives here with kids who play know what I am referring to. Soccer and baseball are typically played with blowing Arctic winds and you have to bundle up.
Anyway, Nicki had a breakaway and scored a fabulous goal. I was so happy I was paying attention and not gabbing when it happened. I saw the whole thing. At the end of the game she says, "Can we go to DQ?" Of course after her fabulous play and the fact that it was 26 C out, I said sure. I did not bring any treats for any of the 4 boys/men who were possibly at home. It was too hot and they would have been a mess by the time we got there is my rational reason for not doing so.
A small DQ blizzard is usually consumed in the 15 minute drive home. As we neared home I stuffed my empty blizzard cup into Nicki's and I said, "We'll hide the evidence in here." As we pulled into the driveway we grabbed our stuff (my jam packed purse that Jessica hates and everyone else thinks is cool and Nicki's soccer gear) and headed up the sidewalk.
Bob and Josh were sitting outside. Nicki headed in before me. As I hit the doorstep, Bob says "I was just thinking, I hope Cindy brings me a treat from DQ." At this point I thought, crap do I have ice cream on my face, or is this purely coincidental that he was thinking about DQ and we sort of secretly went there? I apologized for not bringing any home and headed into the house.
When I saw Nicki inside, I whispered, "You didn't tell your dad that we went to DQ did you?" She said, "No, but he saw the blizzard cups in my hand." Of course picture the look of disbelief on my face. :P
I looked at her and said, "I told you we needed to hide the evidence!!!!!"
And she said....
"I thought you were just kidding"
So then to explain to her, how next time my hubby goes to Tim Horton's for a coffee, it is unlikely that he will think to bring me an Ice Capp. :P
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Day 21 and counting
Over the last few years I have found that on particular mornings, the minute my feet hit the floor the sound of my children even breathing annoys me. On those mornings the very fact that a cupboard door is left hanging open, a light is on in an unoccupied room or the peanut butter was left out leaves me ranting and raging. Being out the door 3 minutes later than usuall will push me off the edge.
And then one rant-filled morning I had an epiphany. Maybe it isn't them. Maybe it is me. So I looked at my trusty calendar and realized that on that particular morning I was on day 21 of my blessed feminine cycle. I took note of that fact and in another 4 weeks recognized the same feeling. Holy crap. It's Day 21. So for the last couple of years I keep track of day 21 on my calendar and to be totally honest, having the awareness of the possibility of having that demonic hormone surge has actually helped me keep things under control. It also made me realize that Jessica has a day 25-28 approximately, where we would like to throttle her. Her days 25-28 put my little episodse to shame. So ladies, if you haven't figured out what your magic number is, I highly recommend doing so. It will make your family and friends, possibly co-workers much happier if you can keep the horriblemones in check.
That being said...... Here is what was going on in my house this morning. Jessica was heading out today on an overnight dog-sledding trip for school. Being her amazingly unorganized and scattered self, she left a trail of destruction and incompletion every where she went and on everything she touched this morning.
As I shut cupboard doors, turned off lights, picked up laundry off the stairs that she had moved there from the kitchen table and then stepped over as she went up to her room (yes my darling mother I do know that I did that as a teen for days at a time and yes Melany you did too :) ), I headed downstairs to take something out of the freezer for supper. Yes, all of the basement lights were on and nobody was home. As I walked into the pre-lit laundry room my eyes fell upon a scene which made my day 21 blood boil. Actually my blood would have boiled on any given day, but imagine the boost it got this morning being day 21.
I had put a load of wash in the machine last night. When I walked into the laundry room, someone (ahem aka Jessica) had opened the door, rifled through the wet laundry looking for something, pulled half of the clean wet laundry out and piled it in a heap in front of the machine. The door was open with clothes half in and half out. It reminded me of the halloween pumpkins that people carve and pull the seeds and guts out to make it look like it is throwing up. How is that for a visual?
I stomped over to the stairs and yelled up, "I am going to kill either Jessica or Nicole!!!!" Who made the mess in the laundry room???? With that Jessica came down and said, "it was me, I was going to fold that." Fold what??? Well we weren't referring to the same thing. In addition to the chaos that I was freaking out about, she had taken a bunch of dry stuff out of the dryer, threw it in a basket and put the basket of clean dry clothes amidst the baskets of dirty clothes. I said, "Not that!!!, that!!!!" and pointed to the wet mess of clean clothes. "Oh, yeah I did that too."
Needless to say I don't honestly believe I wouldn't have been any less aggravated on day 10 or 17. I spent the rest of the morning making sure she didn't leave anything laying around or turned on etc.
The other 4 kids were already waiting in the truck and Jessica was still sitting on the floor pulling on her boots. She said, "you can go wait in the truck." I advised that I would be more aggravated waiting in the truck wondering what is taking her so long, than I am actually watching what is taking her so long....
So we get in the truck, back out, proceed down the drive way almost get to the road and you hear Jessica gasp. "Now what?" "We have to go back" she says. "What did you forget now? " "My permission slip!" The one I signed a couple of days ago?" Well that was a stupid question now wasn't it?
Now we are about 7 minutes later than usual and I had some copying and stuff that I wanted to get done. I arrive at the school, go down to the school store to turn on the slushie machines, only to find that lemon lime and dripped all night and flooded the counter and the floor. Yup it's day 21 alright.
(I must say that I love my daughter Jessica dearly and she has a magical talent that I call White Tornado mode (my dad calls my mom the white tornado when she has cleaned the supper table and he is still eating LOL) and Jessica will tidy up the house leaving it spotless. I completely appreciate when she does this and I thank her for it. )
Well thank goodness tomorrow is day 22. What day is it for you?
And then one rant-filled morning I had an epiphany. Maybe it isn't them. Maybe it is me. So I looked at my trusty calendar and realized that on that particular morning I was on day 21 of my blessed feminine cycle. I took note of that fact and in another 4 weeks recognized the same feeling. Holy crap. It's Day 21. So for the last couple of years I keep track of day 21 on my calendar and to be totally honest, having the awareness of the possibility of having that demonic hormone surge has actually helped me keep things under control. It also made me realize that Jessica has a day 25-28 approximately, where we would like to throttle her. Her days 25-28 put my little episodse to shame. So ladies, if you haven't figured out what your magic number is, I highly recommend doing so. It will make your family and friends, possibly co-workers much happier if you can keep the horriblemones in check.
That being said...... Here is what was going on in my house this morning. Jessica was heading out today on an overnight dog-sledding trip for school. Being her amazingly unorganized and scattered self, she left a trail of destruction and incompletion every where she went and on everything she touched this morning.
As I shut cupboard doors, turned off lights, picked up laundry off the stairs that she had moved there from the kitchen table and then stepped over as she went up to her room (yes my darling mother I do know that I did that as a teen for days at a time and yes Melany you did too :) ), I headed downstairs to take something out of the freezer for supper. Yes, all of the basement lights were on and nobody was home. As I walked into the pre-lit laundry room my eyes fell upon a scene which made my day 21 blood boil. Actually my blood would have boiled on any given day, but imagine the boost it got this morning being day 21.
I had put a load of wash in the machine last night. When I walked into the laundry room, someone (ahem aka Jessica) had opened the door, rifled through the wet laundry looking for something, pulled half of the clean wet laundry out and piled it in a heap in front of the machine. The door was open with clothes half in and half out. It reminded me of the halloween pumpkins that people carve and pull the seeds and guts out to make it look like it is throwing up. How is that for a visual?
I stomped over to the stairs and yelled up, "I am going to kill either Jessica or Nicole!!!!" Who made the mess in the laundry room???? With that Jessica came down and said, "it was me, I was going to fold that." Fold what??? Well we weren't referring to the same thing. In addition to the chaos that I was freaking out about, she had taken a bunch of dry stuff out of the dryer, threw it in a basket and put the basket of clean dry clothes amidst the baskets of dirty clothes. I said, "Not that!!!, that!!!!" and pointed to the wet mess of clean clothes. "Oh, yeah I did that too."
Needless to say I don't honestly believe I wouldn't have been any less aggravated on day 10 or 17. I spent the rest of the morning making sure she didn't leave anything laying around or turned on etc.
The other 4 kids were already waiting in the truck and Jessica was still sitting on the floor pulling on her boots. She said, "you can go wait in the truck." I advised that I would be more aggravated waiting in the truck wondering what is taking her so long, than I am actually watching what is taking her so long....
So we get in the truck, back out, proceed down the drive way almost get to the road and you hear Jessica gasp. "Now what?" "We have to go back" she says. "What did you forget now? " "My permission slip!" The one I signed a couple of days ago?" Well that was a stupid question now wasn't it?
Now we are about 7 minutes later than usual and I had some copying and stuff that I wanted to get done. I arrive at the school, go down to the school store to turn on the slushie machines, only to find that lemon lime and dripped all night and flooded the counter and the floor. Yup it's day 21 alright.
(I must say that I love my daughter Jessica dearly and she has a magical talent that I call White Tornado mode (my dad calls my mom the white tornado when she has cleaned the supper table and he is still eating LOL) and Jessica will tidy up the house leaving it spotless. I completely appreciate when she does this and I thank her for it. )
Well thank goodness tomorrow is day 22. What day is it for you?
Friday, February 24, 2012
Compliments part 2
Being over 40 I tend to experience times where I have some extra heat radiating from my usually cold body. After work today I took 3/5 kids and got groceries and headed home to make supper. Bob came home just after 5pm and was feeling a bit chilly. He came up behind me as I was preparing supper and slipped his freezing cold hands under the back of my shirt and onto my warm back.
I cringed at how cold his hands were. Noah was standing nearby and I said to Bob, why don't you put your hands on Noah to warm up and Bob said..... Wait for it..... Wait for it......
" I can't, he's skinny."
I turned and looked at Bob and he said, "I know that didn't come out right." I told him there is no way to take back that one. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Then he tried to explain the reasoning between being a skinny kid and body heat and he bumbled over something to do with warmth and comfort. It just got better and better.
I cringed at how cold his hands were. Noah was standing nearby and I said to Bob, why don't you put your hands on Noah to warm up and Bob said..... Wait for it..... Wait for it......
" I can't, he's skinny."
I turned and looked at Bob and he said, "I know that didn't come out right." I told him there is no way to take back that one. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Then he tried to explain the reasoning between being a skinny kid and body heat and he bumbled over something to do with warmth and comfort. It just got better and better.
Distractions while Driving
I must say with 5 kids in sports and school and with social lives and the fact that we live in the country, I do a lot of driving. That being said there are plenty of distractions in the vehicle. Some distractions are loud and boisterous outbursts, while others are of the silent but deadly variety.
Last night we were driving home and someone claimed they smelled something. Denial filled the air along with an unfavourable aroma. I said, maybe it is the mill.
Then when we were just about home the smell hit again. We were 13km from the mill at this point and all fingers pointed toward Noah. He "took credit" for what he had done and blamed it on the fact that he had McDonald's for supper and that he hadn't had that in a long time, so his body wasn't used to it. Dom indicated that McDonald's does not seem to disagree with his gastronomical system, but he goes there once a week with Nanny for lunch.
To use a word that Zach created, the smell of Noah's little bomb effumulated within the cabin of the vehicle. Everyone expressed their disgust and Dom added that if he "lit a match in here we would all blow up."
I don't need to be pulled over and ticketed for using a cell phone when I drive to distract me. I just need to be driving with the bunch of yahoos I chauffeur around on a daily basis. :)
And yes, this is my life.
Last night we were driving home and someone claimed they smelled something. Denial filled the air along with an unfavourable aroma. I said, maybe it is the mill.
Then when we were just about home the smell hit again. We were 13km from the mill at this point and all fingers pointed toward Noah. He "took credit" for what he had done and blamed it on the fact that he had McDonald's for supper and that he hadn't had that in a long time, so his body wasn't used to it. Dom indicated that McDonald's does not seem to disagree with his gastronomical system, but he goes there once a week with Nanny for lunch.
To use a word that Zach created, the smell of Noah's little bomb effumulated within the cabin of the vehicle. Everyone expressed their disgust and Dom added that if he "lit a match in here we would all blow up."
I don't need to be pulled over and ticketed for using a cell phone when I drive to distract me. I just need to be driving with the bunch of yahoos I chauffeur around on a daily basis. :)
And yes, this is my life.
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