A Spot of T

Monday Morning Fun

Ok it's not really fun, but it's quiet and I adore quiet.

Samantha is home sick today.  I'd take a picture of her while she's like this because of course I think she looks absolutely adorable with her oversized pj's, messed up hair, no make-up and a slightly greenish tinge (no she's not actually green.  she's just feeling a bit green) to her aching body.  But the look she gave as I was coming at her with the camera had me taking a detour to something else instead.  The only way to describe her is 'shmooshy'.

 

Not exactly a breakfast of champions but I had a real craving for these this morning.  Sugary on one side because I'm just not sweet enough and plain on the other.  Mighty fine.

I received the above in with a bag of glorious goodies from a wonderful lady and I'm going to admit right here and now.  I was a bit skeptical.  I'm a huge tea drinker.  Huge.  People know this about me which means if someone comes to visit or I receive a letter in the mail it never fails, people seem to bring or send me tea.  Which is very very nice and I love it all.  And because I'm such a big tea fan, I will try anything that comes my way.  Even if it's in a little box like this.  But let's be honest here folks, sometimes these things don't always work out.  Sometimes the tea bags end up tasting like....ummm....bags.  But I always try the tea gifts because you never know what awaits the palate.  I have to say, this is fine tea.  Fine indeed.  And each tea bag comes with a small saying or quote on the end of the string.  Not only packaged adorably but tastes good too.  I'm not sure where this wonderful lady got this but the site is Bag Ladies Tea.  And while you're there, take a look at those tins.  How cute!

   

I see a pattern happening and I think I'm being had.  As I was in the kitchen this morning I heard a big moan and a huge sigh.  I came out just as Mushu was putting his head down.  Every single time I see him like this I say "Awww you poor puppy.  I know you love your bed, but I have GOT to get you a bed that fits you."  Mushu will look up at me with those gorgeous Bichon eyes of his and then promptly put his head down....and sigh again.  I always feel like such a failure as a dog owner.  What kind of dog owner would make their dog sleep in a bed that is obviously too small for him.  I pet him and cuddle him and tell him I'm sorry and that as soon as I'm up to it we will go out and get him a bigger bed.  Then I walk into another room.  And when I come out.....

This is what I see next.  I guess he figures if I feel sorry enough for him it means I'll allow him up on the furniture he knows he's not allowed on.  Oh and he knows it too.  Don't let that "Uh sorry I can't hear you" picture fool you.  I think he also figures if he doesn't look at me while I'm saying "Mushu what are you doing, you know you aren't allowed up there." then it means he doesn't have to listen.

And finally these.  I hope to do something really inspiring with these.  I have absolutely no idea what.  But I'm hoping if I leave them out on the desk long enough.  Something will come to me.  I'll let you know if it does.

Hello God? Sorry About That

I'm going to admit something here I would never admit to anyone else.  Well ok one other person.  I think I'm going mad.  And now that I've typed it.  It doesn't seem to make me feel any better.

Why do I think I'm going mad?  Because for weeks now I have woken up in the middle of the night to whispers.  This is how it started out.....

Me:  Startled and waking up.  "Huh?"

Whisper:  "Blog"

Me:  "Who is that?  What did you say?"

And then my head falls back down and I go back to sleep.  It started about a week before I had my surgery and I thought it was just nerves.  If I'm extremely stressed I tend to get some pretty freaky dreams, so I just chalked it up to nerves....and freaky dreams.

Then since I've been recovering, this is what happens....what I remember anyway.....

Me:  "Huh?"

Whisper:  "Make a blog."

Me:  "What?  I do blog."

Whisper:  "Make a blog."

Me:  "Stupid.  I have a blog."

Whisper:  "Make a blog."

Me:  "Blog blog blog.  I don't know what that means?"

And then I wake up.  Sometimes I am in a full sweat and other times I just fall back to sleep.  But every single night I wake up like this.  Sometimes the whispers are longer, sometimes it's just a couple of whispers.  But it's right in my head and scares the bejeebers out of me.

How completely insane is this?  Straight jacket anyone?  I feel like I'm losing my mind.  At first I thought it was from all the great Tylenol 3's in me, but I haven't taken any Tylenol 3's in a couple of weeks now.  Side affects still from the anesthesia?  Then I thought maybe I was eating too late into the night.  Whatever.  I'm bored out of my mind and the one thing I can do without hurting is eat.  But I stopped that.  I'm not stressed, I'm eating better, I get plenty of rest.  What.  The.  Heck.  Is.  Up.  With.  This??

And as embarrassed as I've been about this, I wrote to a friend about it.  She seems to think it's Gods way of talking to me.  Good grief.  About a blog??  Not likely.  But thanks.

Then I couldn't help thinking about what she wrote.  And I wondered if it was in-fact God.  If he took offence to me calling him stupid.

Powerful Poem

I have come across some really great reading in my blog travels and the below poem is one of them.  I saw this over at My Eclectic Blog and thought it was very powerful.  Thanks to Heather for posting it.  I plan on printing this out and letting my kids read it.

The Little Boy
by Helen Buckley

Once a little boy went to school.
He was quite a little boy
And it was quite a big school.
But when the little boy
Found that he could go to his room
By walking right in from the door outside
He was happy;
And the school did not seem
Quite so big anymore.

One morning
When the little boy had been in school awhile,
The teacher said:
"Today we are going to make a picture."
"Good!" thought the little boy.
He liked to make all kinds;
Lions and tigers,
Chickens and cows,
Trains and boats;
And he took out his box of crayons
And began to draw.

But the teacher said, "Wait!"
"It is not time to begin!"
And she waited until everyone looked ready.
"Now," said the teacher,
"We are going to make flowers."
"Good!" thought the little boy,
He liked to make beautiful ones
With his pink and orange and blue crayons.
But the teacher said "Wait!"
"And I will show you how."
And it was red, with a green stem.
"There," said the teacher,
"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked at his teacher's flower
Then he looked at his own flower.
He liked his flower better than the teacher's
But he did not say this.
He just turned his paper over,
And made a flower like the teacher's.
It was red, with a green stem.

On another day
When the little boy had opened
The door from the outside all by himself,
The teacher said:
"Today we are going to make something with clay."
"Good!" thought the little boy;
He liked clay.
He could make all kinds of things with clay:
Snakes and snowmen,
Elephants and mice,
Cars and trucks
And he began to pull and pinch
His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, "Wait!"
"It is not time to begin!"
And she waited until everyone looked ready.
"Now," said the teacher,
"We are going to make a dish."
"Good!" thought the little boy,
He liked to make dishes.
And he began to make some
That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said "Wait!"
"And I will show you how."
And she showed everyone how to make
One deep dish.
"There," said the teacher,
"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked at the teacher's dish;
Then he looked at his own.
He liked his better than the teacher's
But he did not say this.
He just rolled his clay into a big ball again
And made a dish like the teacher's.
It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon
The little boy learned to wait,
And to watch
And to make things just like the teacher.
And pretty soon
He didn't make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened
That the little boy and his family
Moved to another house,
In another city,
And the little boy
Had to go to another school.
This school was even bigger
Than the other one.
And there was no door from the outside
Into his room.
He had to go up some big steps
And walk down a long hall
To get to his room.
And the very first day
He was there,
The teacher said:
"Today we are going to make a picture."
"Good!" thought the little boy.
And he waited for the teacher
To tell what to do.
But the teacher didn't say anything.
She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy
She asked, "Don't you want to make a picture?"
"Yes," said the lttle boy.
"What are we going to make?"
"I don't know until you make it," said the teacher.
"How shall I make it?" asked the little boy.
"Why, anyway you like," said the teacher.
"And any color?" asked the little boy.
"Any color," said the teacher.
"If everyone made the same picture,
And used the same colors,
How would I know who made what,
And which was which?"
"I don't know," said the little boy.
And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

My Interview......

Debbie from A Step at a Time did a fine job on her interview questions to me.  Thanks Debbie, I had fun answering these.

1.  What is the one topic you will not blog about?

My mother.

2.  What have you learned about yourself through being a mom?

Oh boy. My husband will be shaking his head up and down on this answer. Patience.  I was and still am THE most impatient person you will ever meet.  I'm not proud of it but it's who I am.  You will often hear me saying "I have no patience for stupidity".  And I mean it.  When someone deliberately runs into me in the grocery store because they have to get to those yellow peppers first, I stand back and stare at them and want to call them an idiot.  If someone goes in a door ahead of me and deliberately let's it close in my face, I want to stab them with a screwdriver.  To some people these would be rude things, but to me it's stupidity.  How stupid do you have to be to deliberately go out of your way to make someone else miserable?  Pretty stupid.  I have no patience for people like that.  And yes I can be nasty on here, but that's what I use this blog for.  To vent my experiences with pinheads who can't take two seconds to hold a door open for someone else.  This is what they've driven me too.

But my kids. I have ALL the patience in the world for my three kids. Which is so funny because my husband has all the patience in the world for everyone else, but absolutely no patience for his kids. Again. Constant opposites. He's a screamer and a yeller while it's very rare I yell or scream. If I'm to the point of yelling, you had better be running because that's how mad I am.  I find as the kids get older, I tend to look at them a bit funny every now and then and say something like "You need to think a little bit more next time."  Still lots of patience for them, but step up and make me proud that you can do the right thing in this world.

3.  What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever done?

I'm 43 years old.  There have been so many.  But I guess 'the' most embarrassing thing was when I was accused of shoplifting when I was 18.  I will go to my grave defending my innocence on this one.  But I couldn't get the right words out and just bawled because I couldn't believe they were accusing me.  Ya.  I've come a long way baby.  Now I would voice my opinion, and loud, but not way back then.  Damn.  The store security saw it differently....yes...I walked out of the store with a bright colored dress draped over my arm.  I'm so sneaky.  Duh!  I was taken downtown and fingerprinted.  Although I did get to ride in a police car.  But then everyone was looking at me that drove by.  Good grief it was humiliating.  I don't know how crooks keep doing what they do.  I was mortified with just the one time, they make a career out of it.   

4.  Everyone has their favourite pet peeve. What is yours?

Telemarketers. The definition of pet peeve, according to Wikipedia is, a minor annoyance that can instill extreme frustration in an individual. Typically each person has several pet peeves that aggravate her or him more than the average person. Another person may not react as negatively or at all to the same circumstance.

They may as well have telemarketers in there, because this is them to a T.  I know they are only people trying to make a living like everyone else in the world but I think they are the bottom-feeders of human kind.  I'm not joking.  I hate how rude they are, I hate that they call me at all hours of the day, I hate when I say politely "No thank you or we're not interested" they keep talking like I'm going to change my mind.  I'm not going to change my mind.  I tell them I'm not going to change my mind so stop, but they continue to talk like I'm some sort of spec of dirt on the floor who isn't worth being listened too....and then want me to buy something.  I hate, despise, looooooooathe telemarketers.  And do you know why?  Because they bring out the nastiness in me.  And I don't like being nasty.

5.  In your 100 Things About Me list you say that you’re extremely hard to live with.  What makes you hard to live with?

Oh good grief, what doesn't make me hard to live with. Gregg likes gossip, I despise it and avoid it at all costs. Gregg likes tons of people around all the time, I like no one around all the time.  Gregg likes to go out and do things, I like to stay at home and do things.  Gregg likes to talk talk talk, I am pretty quiet.  I like to do a lot of things with the kids, Gregg doesn't like to do as much with the kids.  I say I am going to do something and I will break my back to get it done, Gregg says he will do something and I will still be waiting 5 years from now for him to get it done. The list is endless. But the worst.  THE.  VERY.  WORST IS.......

I'm the type of person who, back in my career days, would have co-workers who thought they were hilariously funny come into my office when I wasn't there and 'slightly' rearrange things on my desk.  I would come into work, they'd follow me into my office and watch as I would hang up my coat, put papers down and move everything back to the exact spot they were in before the bastards thought it was funny to move them.  I wouldn't do it consciously.  I'd be talking away and just move everything back to the way 'I' had left them.

And I haven't outgrown my necessity for order and organization or as any good shrink calls it...OCD. So you can imagine when I marry someone who is the complete opposite of me. I wouldn't consider my husband a pig because he's not. But my clean and his clean doesn't even compare. My tidy and his tidy, never the two shall meet. Fold the towels my way, who cares how the stinking towels are folded. I want the yard clean and presentable and he leaves two tires sitting out front under the basketball net. Add in three kids to the soup mix and you have a wife/mother who doesn't want to yell or holler or make her kids as neurotic as her, so she walks around with a slight tick and her left eye twitching, patiently waiting for the day everyone is gone and she can have things.....the way she wants. Oh how I long for the day I can go to the kitchen drawer and find the carrot peeler exactly where it belongs. Because even after 20 years of marriage, I still have the dream I can teach the big guy when the kids are all grown up and gone.

Here’s a bonus question that may be entirely too private to share.  So disregard if you don’t want to answer. :o)  What is the story behind the bumble bee?

Not too private at all.  The Bumble Bee is for my sister.  She passed away 6 years ago in May.

When we were little and singing to Ozzy Osbourne into our hairbrushes in front of the mirror, we thought tattoo's were the coolest thing on earth.  We would talk about going out one day together and each getting a tattoo.  Such rebels in our young minds.  Holding each other's hand as she got a Bumble Bee and I got an Angel.  We moved out on our own and still talked about getting the tattoos. We got older....in our 30's....and still talked about the tattoos....but never got around to it.  Her, never swaying from a Bumble Bee and me, always the Angel.  She ended up getting very sick (IPF - Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis) and near the end, she would talk about all the things she had wanted to do in her life......but never did.  Those tattoo's were top on her list.  "When I get better, it's the first thing we're going to do." she'd say.  But she passed away while waiting for a donor.  So about a year after she passed away, I gathered up enough strength without her and I went and got a Bumble Bee tattoo.  I have been searching to find the Angel I want.  They are all either too angelic....or cartoonish.  But before I die.  There will be an Angel tattoo....and it will be hugging that Bumble Bee tattoo.

So when I had E.Webscapes design my blog, I asked Lisa if she could put a little bumble bee in the banner somewhere.  The same thing when I had Cindy make up a watermark design for me.  A little bumble bee.  For my sister.  Because she would have LOVED my blog.  And because she is never ever out of my thoughts.

If you wanna play, here’s what you do.
1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.” If I don’t have your email address, leave it for me in the comments.
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.(Insert, "Muwahahahaahah!")
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

The Choices We Make

I had a complete come apart this morning in the privacy of my own home.  And it's not even 9:00am.

Now when most of you are having your mid-morning snack or coffee-break, I am just having my breakfast.  I get up much earlier and get dressed and do a few things, but I always eat my breakfast around 10:00am.  I watch Regis & Kelly while I'm eating too.  My doctor is trying to change this so I eat at 7:30 or 8:00am.  Good luck with that.

On this particular morning I come on my computer to do some work and half way through a sentence, my mouse stops working.  No big deal right?  Put some batteries in it and away you go again.  Except I go to the battery container we have....and there are lots of batteries....but none of the ever popular AA batteries I need.  And I know I just bought some, because the little red light on my mouse came on about a week ago so I knew the batteries were going in it....and I went out and bought some.  But where were they?

Now I know the kids always go in the cupboard and take the batteries, and because I am one intelligent soul, I always put what I call 'back-up' batteries in a drawer in my office here.  I try not to use them, but I have them there just for times like this.  Except I go to get those batteries.....and they're gone too.  Someone had the nerve to come into my office, go to the back of the drawer where I hide my battery stash.....and take my back-up batteries.

Now I have to start searching the house.  I figure if I can find the freshly bought pack of batteries it will be a miracle, but I'd be just as happy to find used batteries at this point.  Remote?  Nope, they take AAA batteries.  My daughter's old CD player?  Nope, old batteries that don't have any juice in them.  I go down to my son's room who has ALL the gadgets that take AA batteries and sure enough, in amongst all the mess on his desk, is MY package of batteries.  Oh man!  If you were a fly on the wall.  The swearing alone would have made a sailor blush.

I was so mad because I have told him time and time again that I don't care if he takes batteries but don't take the WHOLE package.  Other people need batteries too.  Like me.  Today.  And I was in no mood to be hiking up and down stairs today.  So what did I do?  I searched for the phone, dialed his cell number and......hung up before his voice message came on.  I hung up the phone and calmed down.  It's just batteries after all.

I come upstairs and try and open the hard plastic around the batteries.  Isn't going to happen.  So I go to the container I keep my favorite pair of yellow scissors in and.....they aren't there.  What??  How can they not be there?  I always keep them there.  That's where they BELONG.  Right there.  So I start searching through the umpteen drawers I still haven't labelled in my desk and come to the scissor drawer.  There are all kinds of decorator scissors but not my yellow scissors.  Picture me stamping my feet, throwing my arms and letting out a huge AAAAAARGHHHH!!!!

I go to the kitchen because maybe they are in the kitchen drawers.  Nope.  I come back to the office and re-arrange the mess on my desk thinking perhaps they are under all the mess.  Nope.  Then my youngest pops into my head.  My little crafter who is ALWAYS in my office and into the stickers, papers, colored pens, inks....and scissors.  I go into her room and search on her very neat desk and sure enough, there sits not only my favorite pair of yellow scissors, but two pairs of yellow scissors because I had already replaced one missing pair.  Oh man.  If you could have been a fly on the wall.  The swearing alone would have made a sailor blush.

So what do I do.  I search for the phone I left downstairs in my son's room, dial my youngest's cell phone....and hang up before her voice mail comes on.  They're only scissors afterall.  What's the big deal right?  If I yell at her and make her feel bad, maybe she won't craft any more.  And I love that she loves to tinker in the crafts.  Might even be a good idea for her birthday on May 17th.  A craft kit of her very own.

So I hang up, come into my office, leave the post I was going to post today and write this one instead.  Why?  Because I could have made two children feel very bad about themselves today.  But "I" chose not to.

Now if you'll excuse me.  I'm going to go take a chance the dog is still in the mudroom.

Balanced Life Meme

I am finally getting to this meme I was tagged by Screaming Pages.....and.....Writing Aspirations.......before I had my surgery.  I re-read my answers and seem so boring, but I loved following the others who were tagged because everyone really is unique in how they balance their lives.

How do you achieve balance in your life?   I've learned to not over-extend myself.  Seriously.  I don't get stressed about too much anymore.  I don't work outside the home so I always thought it was my job to make up (in the kid's school) for the people who couldn't come in as much as I could.  You can literally run yourself ragged with that thought process.  With older teenagers now, my time is more my own.  I still like being available to my children whenever they need me and it's also nice not having to run off to work when my husband comes home from out of town.  We can spend some quality time together we wouldn't have if I was working.  So.  To keep myself busy I do volunteer work.  But I watch, because it's very easy to get caught up in people 'wanting' you.  'Needing' you.  I focus hard in not falling into that trap.

I balance things around the house by making everyone do their share around here.  They complain, but I could care less.  My motto has always been "I am nobody's maid."  My kids will know how to clean a toilet, vacuum, do their own laundry, cook.  No one wants to be a mother to my son, and he will know how to look after himself.  And my daughter's have learned it's more than fine for men to chip in and help with things around the house.  I work hard on having a united front in our home which makes for some easier happier times.

Balancing health in your life is also important.  I learned this the hard way.  You walk around tired and exhausted and possibly even in pain, and you are no good to anyone.  You must take time in your life to keep yourself healthy.  Too many of us think we don't have the time, but your body will eventually let you know.  And it will come as a gentle tap on your shoulder or a good swift kick.  Either way, listen to it and take time for it.

What is your biggest challenge in balancing your life?   It used to be saying 'no'.  This is a huge one and I'm really working hard on teaching it to my children.  My oldest child is out on her own and has had to deal with trying to say no.  She's been learning how persistent some people can be and how other people will even go so far as to bully her until she says yes.  She deals with it by avoiding those people at all cost and I support her if that's the way she chooses to handle it.  But some people don't go away so it has to be dealt with.  I tell her some people are awful good at the guilting and you have to make it perfectly clear that although you love them and respect them, you will not stand to be guilted or bullied and the answer remains no.  Poor thing is only 18, but she is getting stronger and I am proud of her.  My son has no problem saying no.  My husband......NEVER says no.  Well except to me, but to anyone else it's always yes.  Yes, we fight about it sometimes.  And me?  I have absolutely no problem saying no now.  I too learned about people's guilting ways and won't stand for it.  I never say no without really thinking about it first, so when I say no....it means no.

As far as challenges balancing the rest of my life.  I have it pretty easy really.  I have a husband who works out of town all the time so when he comes home I can give him all the attention he needs so he can never complain I don't pay enough attention to him.  I have three teenagers, one who is living on her own, so they don't need me nearly as much as they once did.  But if they do I am ready for them at a moments notice.  I can volunteer as much or as little as I want too or I can schlep around the house for days on end.  It's really good to be me right now.

What are your priorities?  My husband, my children and myself.  Right now I get to be top on the priority list because of my surgery and health, but normally for me it is definitely hubby and kids.  As the kids get older it is becoming more and more hubby and me so it's all kind of new.  I find I am in a position to do anything I want right now and the problem I'm running into is.....there's so much I want to do.  And now with my health so much better.  There's no stopping me.  I want to take photography courses I was never able to before.  My daughter's and I have talked about taking cooking classes together.  I want to take some computer courses because I hate being stupid when it comes to this box.  And I even think I'd like to take a writing class to see how I like it.  I want to read so much more than I do, and I want to travel.  I want.....well you get the idea.  It's endless.  I'm just not sure which to do first.

How have your priorities changed over time and why?  I think back to before kids and even before marriage.  It was all me me me.  Which isn't bad because there was only me.  I worked all hours and loved it, I worked out at the gym all the time and loved it, I partied til all hours of the night....and loved it.  I had hopes and dreams as far as a career and nothing was going to stop me.  Then hubby came along and kids and bills and the priorities were completely different.  My biggest priority was to raise these three kids to become decent human beings you wouldn't read about in the morning paper.  Now that they're older, my priorities have changed to me more.  Why?  Because I deserve it :o)   

What advice can you share to help all of us balance our own lives?   Oiy.  Not good at giving advice.  Learn to say no?  Take time for yourself?  Volunteer?  Buy jewellry?  I don't know.  We're all so different.  To say what works for me is going to work for you would be foolish.  But I do believe you have to be a smidge greedy and step back and look at what makes you happy.  Stay-at-home moms constantly feel like they're being taken advantage of because they 'just stay at home' so I find they tend to do so much more and run themselves ragged.  Working moms, good grief working moms I take my hat off to.  To be a working mom and still raise healthy well-adjusted kids is an amazing feat....but it's done all the time and they certainly don't get the recognition they deserve either.

Now it’s my turn to tag five other people. I wouldn't normally tag anyone, but I think this meme is a great one to share.

So I tag, and if you've already been tagged because I am weeks behind everyone else right now just ignore this:

A Step at a Time - I'd love to know how a homeschooling mom balances her life.  Or does she?  She SEEMS to have everything together, but is finding balance in life a chore like it is for everyone else?

Sirdar - It's always nice to have a male's point of view on things.  I'm not only interested in how other women balance their lives, but I'm also interested in how men balance their lives as well.

My Eclectic Blog - Do we balance our lives differently depending on where we live?  Maybe living in Alaska is much more hectic then it is here in Alberta?

Portrait of Peter - Another male point of view.  I find this gentleman fascinating.  He doesn't know I exist but he comments on A Step at a Time's blog all the time and I followed him over to his blog and can't stop going back now.

Steffi - My German friend Steffi.  Who takes the time to write in both German AND English on her blog for those of us who want to know what things are like so many miles away.  I enjoy her blog so much.  She says she doesn't write English very well but I say she writes it just fine :o)

   

Just When You Thought You'd Die of Boredom...

So.

I ventured out yesterday.  I text messaged Samantha (yes I am THE most horrible irresponsible parent in the world because I text messaged her during school....at lunch....darn I shouldn't have put that in there) yesterday and told her I wanted to get out of the house and how about I pick her up after school and we'd head to Shopper's Drug Mart.  Four days ago she told Gregg and I she was all out of deodorant and make-up and whatever else girls have nowadays and no one ever did take her in to replenish her supplies.  Isn't it grand being the forgotten last child.

But I got up feeling quite good so I thought "What the heck, I can make this commitment to the poor last child everyone always forgets about."  The morning and afternoon came and went with me making a poached egg for myself, doing the dishes, letting the dog out, fed and watered him, had a nap, cleaned the kitchen counters and table, picked all the deadhead off the flowers, started cleaning up the office desk, sat down for a bit, visited my favorite blogs, started reading a book, took a shower, did my hair, put make-up on, floored that I could get my jeans on and.....was ready for a nap again.  But I couldn't because it was time to go and get Samantha.  So I sat in the vehicle and soon found out wearing jeans so soon after abdominal surgery was NOT a great idea, but persevered and picked Samantha up and headed into Shopper's Drug Mart.

By the time we got there, I was exhausted and there was no way I was going to walk around Shoppers, so Samantha ran in while I rested in the vehicle.  Well tried to rest.  Hard to do when three very loud Italians are all speaking at once right outside your vehicle window.  Man I wanted to honk the horn and tell them to shut up.  But I didn't.  I ran over them instead.  Ok no I didn't.

Samantha came out, my jeans were now cutting into places I didn't even know I had and I was in so much discomfort I was about ready to stop the vehicle in a dark alley, take my pants off and head home in all my glory, no doubt scarring my youngest forgotten child for life.  But I'm a trooper and instead whined all the way home to poor Samantha who wanted to help but couldn't.  Actually I could have taken her up on her offer to drive, but I don't think me grabbing the dash every 5 minutes would have made me any more comfortable.

We get in the house, I'm ready to collapse and Michael comes upstairs and tells me he had a bit of an accident with his quad.  "Uh huh."  I say.  "Ya, well I decided to take my quad out and a school bus was going by and I remembered when I was little and riding the bus how I used to love seeing all the quads so I thought I'd give the little kids a bit of a show.  So I hopped a driveway and came down on the otherside....and now I think my hand is broken." he said while holding up his limp right arm.

So of course since I've already received Mother of the Year this year, I told him it wasn't broken and to put some ice on it and he'd be ok.  THAT'S how tired I was.  All I could think of was I'd have to sit in some emergency room for hours on end and I was so bloody sore already that I would probably sit there whimpering and the poor nurse wouldn't know who the real patient was.

But doesn't god work in mysterious ways.  Because Michael came upstairs at about 8:00pm and said he couldn't stand the pain any longer, so I was getting ready to take him into the hospital....when the doorbell rings.  And who is it?  Kelsey and Dave.  I mean.  What are the chances that they would show up unexpected right at this exact time?  I'll tell you.  If you don't believe in the big guy upstairs after this, there's just no hope for you.

While Michael was getting cleaned up to go into emergency with Kelsey and Dave, I opened up the beautiful flowers Dave and Kelsey brought for me.  Ok mostly from Dave with a smidge of help from Kelsey.  And the card.  Now I still can't laugh too well because it hurts, but I read the card and had to laugh at it.  Oh.  My.  God.  FUN-NY!!

       

Isn't that the best!  Gorgeous bright yellow flowers with the deepest purple carnations I've ever seen and a card that had me in stitches.  Well ok to everyone standing there, only a big smile and a couple of Ha's! were said, but inside.  Laughing.  So yes, even though they know it wasn't a 'tumor' that was removed, and I'm REALLY hoping Dave knew I meant fibroid and not hemorrhoid when I said 'roid', they thought tumor looked better on the little drawn headstone.   R.I.P.  HA!  Crazy hilarious kids.

Michael?  Oh right.  Middle child Michael.  X-rays were taken and he broke his Scaphoid (wrist bone) and is now sporting an Oiler's blue cast that he'll be wearing for the next 10 weeks.  Ah yes.  "You're ok, just put ice on it."  Mother of the Year.  I can see it already.

Going Green in the T Home

 

I think I'm taking a chance writing this, but here it goes.  The T family is going green.  I know I KNOW.  We should have gone green ages ago.  But we haven't, and I'm admitting that, so we will start now.

Now I know every other household out there has been green for years, but in my drug-induced surgery stupor, I happened to watch an Oprah show on going green and I really liked it.  A lot.  I'm not going to mention everything we throw out because I don't want a lynch mob after us, but I will admit we haven't been as conscious about 'doing our part' as we should be.

Did you hear that?  That is the sound of the entire T family moaning and groaning.  Because they know once mom gets something in her head, there is no turning back.

I will say though some of the products Oprah showed on her show, like Seventh Generation, I already use.  So I guess I'm conscious on some sort of level....but not nearly enough.  I could write so much on Oprah showing a clip of a polar bear swimming to find ice or how a lady spoke up that she saw a Planet Earth program showing a polar bear finally reaching ice but is only strong enough to dig a hole in the snow....and die.

Did it take hearing about the polar bears to snap me out of my careless recycling ways?  Yes I think it was.  I love polar bears.  It's always been a dream of mine to go and see the polar bears in Hudson Bay.  Photograph them and have the memories of those incredible animals.  But they're dying at an alarming rate I hear.  And I don't like that.

Plus.  Oprah's show made it look so easy to go green.  They weren't harping or lecturing, they just stated the cold hard facts on how the smallest simplest of changes can make the biggest difference.  I can do that.

So will my recycling our newspapers, milk cartons, glass jars, etc. or cleaning with 'friendly' products or anything I else I see fit to change around here help the polar bears?  Probably not.  But in my mind it can't hurt.  And it will also show the next generation to not be so careless when it comes to recycling.

Monday Morning and Kindness

Yes I carry the above flowers from room to room.  I don't have a clue what kind of flowers they are, but the aroma they give off is like nothing else.  A nice light floral scent that is heavenly.  Plus I love the vase.

It's finally back to normal here at the T house.  Well almost.  And I couldn't be more pleased.  There's something to be said for a routine and for the past 2 1/2 weeks our routine has been turned upside down.

I wanted to make some ribs for supper last night so Gregg wouldn't have to cook his last night at home and it was nice getting back in the kitchen.  We had just finished up and I was thinking what I was going to do for supper tonight because I thought there were going to be enough ribs for two nights, when all of a sudden the doorbell rang.  Gregg went to the door, I heard voices and the next thing I knew I saw a dish of Cannelloni, garlic bread and even a divine dessert being presented to me.  My god.  Complete with a hug.....no TWO hugs.  I'm such a sap, but can life get any better??  If it can I don't want to know about it.  Because this was so great.  The kindness of others.  I swear there is no greater thing.

Henry James said:  Three things in human life are important.  The first is to be kind.  The second is to be kind.  The third is to be kind.

Well I happen to know two ladies whose cups runneth over with kindness.  The two of them take the time to think of one cranky bored lady and make her day so bright.....well....there are no words.  For me anyway.  Not that would do it justice anyway.

To be on the receiving end for the first time in my life is making me step back a bit.  I'm uncomfortable but yet so grateful at the kindness others have shown me.  I'm confused by the people I thought would be here for me and shocked and amazed at so many people who I wouldn't have dreamed would be here for me.  Talk about emotions.  All good of course.  How can they not be good.  Cripes.  I get flowers and cards....and food!

                       

See, you only see tin foil, but I assure you there is a scrumptious dish of Cannelloni under there.  And look at the dessert.  Mmm'boy are we going to enjoy this tonight!

And how did they know it couldn't have come at a better time??  Personally, I think they're Angels.  There is no other explanation for it. 

Slightly Cranky

I got up this morning and sat at the table sulking.  Gregg was making breakfast and started laughing at me.  That helped.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the microwave and didn't like the rooster tail that seemed to be growing out of the back of my head, so I told him I was going for a shower and schlumped away down the hall.  He laughed harder and said a shower would probably be good.  Jackass.  Why is he a jackass?  I don't know.

When I was done my shower, I came out to bacon and eggs and toast and orange juice.  And I still sat there sulking.  Not really sulking I guess.  Just slightly annoyed.  I get annoyed because I don't have control over how fast I'm healing.  Control issues.  You think?

I did feel better though because today....today I shaved my legs.  And pits.  Nothing I hate more then hairy armpits and legs.  But it's the first day since surgery I felt comfortable enough to bend down far enough to shave the old legs.  Yes, I missed some spots.  And I think if I were to look close enough, my one leg has a mohawk down it.

Now I know it's hard to believe I'm cranky.  Being I'm always so sweet and everything.  But it's true.  I'm well enough to be bored out of my mind, but still sore enough to not be able to do too much yet.  Damn.  And on top of everything I have a husband who is laughing at me everytime I shuffle by him.  He's surprised I'm doing as well as I am, but me being me, I want more.  I go to pick something off the floor I've dropped and I look up and he's smiling at me.  I ask him what he's looking at and he laughs and says "Nothing, you're just funny that's all."  I know.  I just crack me up too.

He's heading back out of town early monday morning and keeps asking me if I need him to stay longer.  I'm guessing if it's to the point where he's getting on my nerves, then it probably means I'm well enough for him to go.  I can't remember the last time he was home for so long.  Don't get me wrong, it's been completely great having him here.  But I keep bumping into him because everywhere I turn.....he's there.  Nothing bad about that.  I'm just not used to it.  He isn't either.  I'm sure if you'd ever get it out of him, he would say he was ready to go back out of town.  Back to his very quiet life in BC.  No kids, no wife and all the craziness that comes with having a family.  Just peace and quiet....and the channels HE wants to watch on tv.

Saturday and I'm stuck at home.  Slightly cranky.  I might put my shoes on and walk outside for a bit.  Fresh air is like medicine to me.  I might also get started on Thank You cards today.  Maybe.  Depending how long I can sit without getting too sore.  See.  You'd be cranky too.  Gregg says he wouldn't.  He'd just sit or sleep for days on end.  Whatever it took.  Wouldn't bother him in the least.  And that makes me cranky to hear.

A friend told me to have patience.  Sorry.  That's not a word I know.  So I think I'm going to go and take my new flowers that smell so wonderful and vase I love, and carry them around the house because I can do that.  Then I'm going to schedule in some self-pity.  And THEN I'm going to snap out of it, do a meme I was tagged on and find something to take my mind off myself.  Read, watch Blood Diamond, punch needle, take some pictures.........