Miracles

All of my dedicated followers would be furious that we were to the hospital Tues. and haven't posted until now. Fortunately, there aren't any, so I'm off the hook.

Here's what happened...

We made our way to the children's hospital after what felt like a decade of waiting, then of course waited about half an hour past our appointment time before we met with him. His name is Dr. McPhalen and he is part of the cranio-something team. Right away when he came in, I got this weird vibe from him like we shouldn't be there. I found out talking to Alan later that he felt the same way. He asked us to explain why we thought we were there, which I did, then he examined Evan's head and said, "I think this is going to be a good visit for you guys.". Then he asked if we'd got the x-rays there, and we had, so he went out to check them. About 10 mins later he came to get us to show us the scans. It was pretty cool actually, but the important thing was that you could see that no parts of his skull were fusing, so my son does NOT have scaphocephaly! Yay Evan! Talk about a crappy couple of months. Oh, also my grandma passed as did my sister's cat. They were both REALLY old though.

Happy Easter!

Scaphocephaly

Now that I've had a chance to absorb things and think about it all, I have a much more positive view of it all. Like any good parent, I've been getting my misinformation from the Internet. The pictures of the little babies with IVs ontheir arms, and bandages covering their heads are heartbreaking, but I think I've come to the conclusion that I'm okay if he needs surgery. Obviously it's still scary and stressful, but I really think it will be okay. Quite a change from my last post where I seemed to have written him off completely. (WTF?). I guess that's a knee jerk for you.

Part of the whole surgery/problems with his head thing was that I worried how he would come out of it. Evan is absolutely the most cheerful, relaxed, wonderful kid. People who are around him a lot just can't believe what a happy kid he is all of the time. I suppose even for an adult you might worry how a surgery on thier head might affect them. Or maybe I just think and worry about bizarre things. After doing some hard thinking about the whole probable scenario, I have decided that I am pro surgery. I'd rather have him go through that than him become deformed or brain damaged. You think these things would have gone through my mind initially eh? I think that's another difference between the male and female brain. Alan, of course, was calm and logical from the start. I guess we balance each other out that way.

Tuesday I hope we'll actually get some information. They've been pretty vague so far, but the appointment with the plastic surgeon should provide at least a couple of answers.

Bad Day

Of all the ridicoulous scenarios where my children are threatened and I am near helpless to protest them, illness was not one. I remember both of my kids first sickness. Poor little things struggling to breathe through their plugged noses while they nurse. With my daughter I remember it being the first realization that I can't protect her from everything. With my son, I was angry at his overly-affectionate sister for spreading her germ. I wasn't qurie as vulnerable to the idea of him getting sick, which seems ironic now.

My son may have something called scaphocephaly. It is unconfirmed, but according to how the doctors are rushing the process, I'm pretty sure that will be the verdict. How do you live your life normally when soon your babys head may have to be sliced open? Everything else seems pretty silly and unimportant. And this is how I feel even before a diagnosis! I'm going to be a real headcase if/when the shit really hits the fan.

I don't really write about my kids that much. I didn't want this to be a "mommy blog" but I am a mommy, so it's unavoidable. I love my daughter with all of my heart, but she's two, and she's smart and she pushes my buttons like no other. There are no words for my feelings for my son. Really, no words. The words that come close are cheesy lines that you can find in Valentines Day cards. I love him so much. If anything happens to him I think it will wreck me. I hope to not become one of those parents who shuts down and neglects the surviving child, but after laying judgement on those people, I can suddenly undrstand how it might happen.

That won't happen though! We're going to come through this fine, and maybe my little ray of sunshine will show me how to smile and be optimistic. If he could talk, he'd probably tell me to RELAX!

Stupid Girl

Yesterday we saw an older girl(11-15) lifting her shirt for two younger boys (6-8) while three younger girls(4-6) watched on and, of course eventually started to imitate the older girl. I was furious watching it and so pointed it out to my husband. He watched for a minute and agreed that intervention was necessary. Since I was tending the kids, he went to talk to the girl. In hindsight, I should have gone. He went there as a father, with a 2 year old who could have been one of those younger girls, looking up to this girl who is teaching them that this is how to get attention. I saw it this way too, but I could also see it as that chubby girl who is getting all of the boys attention for once. Now, I will admit that I lifted my shirt at the cajoling of boys when I was young, but we were all the same age, and there were no younger ones getting influenced.

My husband stormed up to the girl, demanded to know where she lived, and when no answer came he asked how old the youngest of the group was. Three. "That is child abuse! I've got half a mind to call the police!". Threats of calling the cops and "you know better!". Now, please know that I believe the girl was totally in the wrong, if not criminally so since I'm pretty sure she was their babysitter, but I think threats are never the way to go. She was quite embarassed and very apologetic, which is good, but I still think a word about self respect would have been more valuable than arrest threats. I didn't do anything, and o really feel like I should have. If Veggie Tales have taught me nothing else, it's that doing nothing is the same as doing something wrong.

So now I have a plan. One of the girls involved in the whole thing walks with her mother down our street every morning to the bus, then the mom walks home. I was thinking I might stopthe mom to talk to her about what we saw. If that girl is her babysitter, I thinkshe would want to know what was going on. But also, I think that girl has self esteem issues and could use a heavy talk from people who love her. Not just to be made to feel like garbage by some neighbour. I think I'm coming off as too sympathetic, but maybe I am. I was furious that she was sending that message to the younger girls, but I know that it's coming from a vulnerable place.

Good thing no one reads this. It's drivel.

That Explains a Lot

I guess giving myself a topic didn't solve the issue of my posting infrequency. I did however have an epiphany! My blog is not about blogging, I just write so much about blogging because I have confidence issues. And to think, I didn't even need to pay a therapist! Okay so my confidence issues are still unsolved, but now I know that they're the root of all of my problems. It explains why it bothers me that noone reads me, and why it would bother me if they did. I don't see anything in the way of a solution, I'll just have to chew on that one for a while though.

The things I think about when I should be sleeping... The easy answers are the normal fears one might have when their most valuable and vulnerable things are not in their immediate viscinity, fire, break-ins, bad people etc. My brain has on more than one occasion taken these scenarios one step further. When I was pregnant with my son, I lay awake one night going over and over, and over what I would do to get myself and my daughter out of our van after driving off a bridge into the icy waters below. And if you want to know the truth, in the "fantasy" scenario it wasn't just any bridge, it was the San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge. The chances of me ever driving ACROSS the GGB ate slim to none, let alone driving OFF of it, so I don't know where this was all coming from. I can tell you though that I had a very good escape plan. It would only work, unfortunately, if the power windows still worked and the back door opens from the inside. Hopefully we never have to test that one.

I read a blog once that talked about how mommy blogs talk about losing their minds, and this blogger felt that if you were going crazy, you wouldn't know it. Well, I can say, besides spending hours planning an escape from a watery death, I have had many, many unstable thoughts/episodes. They always happen when I've had one or more nights with little or no sleep. It's like sane me is trapped inside my brain somewhere without any control, looking on in horror as my head spins around and pea soup spews from my mouth. Pea soup is of course a euphamism for the insanity du jour, usually screaming at my daughter or husband. Anyway, I'm not crazy right now, but I've been there and it's pretty easy to find the way back. I'm off to sleep now, hopefully...

Anybody Out There??

I wasn't going to tell anyone about this blog because the thought of someone reading what I've written really makes me nervous and shy. Let's be honest though, you don't write a blog without wanting someone to read it. Perhaps it was subconscious, but clearly I have been discouraged from posting since my words are just floating into oblivion. I actually thought I might find that reassuring, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I really don't know what it is I'm hoping for, but clearly I haven't achieved it. I know I still want to write, so I think I'll just keep posting when I have the chance, and when my brain is active, and hopefully I can make peace with my lonely existence in the blogosphere.

I was going to make an entry about the crazy thoughts I have when I should be sleeping, but I'll have to save that for another time.

A Confession

In 2004 the Calgary Flames went all the way to the Stanley Cup finals. That year we just happened to get an "8 game pack," or was it 7? That's not the point. The point is that as ticket holders, we were given the option to buy playoff tickets as well. Of course we did.

I will admit that I am not a hockey fan, but for a couple of months, I was. I jumped on that bandwagon with both feet. To recoup some of the cost of the tickets, we sold some and kept some so we could see the games. I can't remember which ones we saw, or which we sold, but I'm sure Alan could tell you, not just that, but who scored and what happened. I'm pretty sure we were at the fateful game where Calgary was up 3 games to 0, and the "judges" (officials?) discounted a goal that would have not only won them the game, but the cup. Yes, very intense stuff, but I'm a little off track here.

Not for the first time, I stood tall and proud while the Canadian national anthem was belted out by 15-20,000 Canadians. The difference in the experience at the playoffs was the sheer volume of it. Before every hockey game they sing the anthems of the participating teams countries, that was nothing new, but you've really never heard anything like this. The warm blanket of hope, pride and being part of something wrapped around you and everyone in the room with the raising of voices. I know volume does not reflect quality in regards to singing, but this was the exception. It didn't matter if you sounded awful, you just needed to be part of it. I imagine that people in Vancouver are expierencing something similar this week.

This brings me to my revelation. It's a strange, somewhat embarassing phenomina, but I've decided to share it anyway. In the last few bars of our national anthem I, without fail, get quite choked up. And by choked up, I mean that I have to choke back the overwhelming urge to bawl my eyes out. I really can't explain it, and it didn't actually originate with the 2004 playoffs, it was just a lot harder to control because of the enormity of it in that instance.

I would like to say that I think it's patriotism, love for my fellow man, or maybe just being overwhelmed by the beauty of thousands of people proudly rising their voices in unity, but I don't really think it's any of those things. Why not? Because the same tearfulness happens at superdogs...

Belonging

"He's from Newfoundland." By way of excusing my husband for the joke, the expression, the whatever it was that made someones brows furrow in confusion or question.

"Oh, gotcha." Along with an understanding chuckle. As if just his heritage would explain why we don't understand his joke, or what he meant. I suppose it could seem rude, as if it's an insult to be from Newfoundland, but I don't see it that way. I envy the invisible connection that all Newfoundlanders have with one another. That feeling of belonging somewhere, being a part of something. Some might argue that living in Alberta for almost 10 years would give him a bit of a disconnect from that heritage, but in fact, the opposite might be true. He is now joined to thousands of other expats by the bond of having had to leave home. When we run into another Newfoundlander, there is immediately an understanding of at least a small part of the others life, an empathy. Not to mention that when they say, "You're from St. John's? Do you know John?". The answer is "No, but my cousin dated his sister."

I feel a lack of heritage in my life. I wonder if every person growing up in a city would feel the same. There is nothing about Calgary, or Alberta that has shaped me in any way that any other city could have. Sure we have the Stampede, but my roots are Saskatchewan farmers, not cowboys. And the farm stock was so last generation. Our city does nothing to preserve heritage either. Out with the old, in with the new. Buildings are constantly being torn down in favour of something bigger and shinier.

I suppose that if our city did make efforts to preserve it's heritage, that woudn't make a lick of difference to me either. I don't feel particularly tied to this city. We moved here when I was 7, so I can pretty much say that I've been here my whole life, but I still don't get that feeling of heritage. I like it here, probably more than a lot of people who live here. It's close to the mountains, the weather never gets very extreme on either end of the spectrum. It's also a pretty clean city considering its size. I hear a lot of complaints from people about the city that I can't relate to. This city has been good to me and to my family. On that note, I'd move somewhere else in a heartbeat if it benefited my family. I like to think that I'd realize how attached I am to this place, and for what reasons, if I ever left.

I think at heart I'm a small town farm girl. Maybe it's time to buy some land...

Land of Nod

I got my first comment. Here are the symptoms: quickened pulse, laboured breathing and second guessing. I don't know if someone is reading this blog, or just stumbled over one post, read it, commented and moved on. Either way, these are no longer just random thoughts released into space to float alone for all eternity. It has caused my stage fright to flare up and I keep hitting the backspace key. You may have noticed a lack of polish and flow to my posts, and the reason for that is that I need to just get it all out and post of before I think twice about it. Well, that and I don't have a ton of time for editing. Maybe once I've gotten more comfortable with the idea I'll try to focus more on the actual writing. One day.

After professing my bliss regarding my family, I have a confession. In my dreams I am rarely a parent, and frequently am not even married. I know that sounds terrible, but it's not how it sounds. These dreams don't involve any funny business, mostly just adult hi jinx that would never happen to people with families. Mostly because they occur after 8pm, aka bedtime. What I get from this is that I still have a need to travel, and do new things. For now, the kids do actually hinder that a bit. I don't think it will be too long before we can take them to new places and share new experiences with them. It still won't be the same sort of shenanigans I get up to in my dreams, but who needs to be a wanted criminal in 8 countries anyway?

Parentood

I don't know how a whole week has gone by since my last post. It is reflective of my mental state for sure. I've avoided posting since all I'd want to do is complain about my lack of sleep, and wonder if there is any right answer to this parenting thing. I realize that I'm one of those parents who gives a detailed account of my day/night to people and I really need to catch myself and stop doing that. It's boring, I know. I just need some empathy I guess. I want the world to know I'm struggling, an understanding nod makes it all better. I'm not alone.

This week I discovered Etsy. I was well aware of it before, but I didn't have an iPod before, and so couldn't surf the net all day like I can now. I'd perused Etsy once or twice, but was always rushed. This site is one you need to really take your time with, and browse around. In the process of browsing I, of course, found something to spend money on. Now that I'm not working, I feel obligated to run most purchases by Alan, who never says no, but I feel obligated nonetheless. So I got a couple of really cute things for the kids.

On the topic of money, I'm finding the idea of being off work more and more comfortable. When I was off after Hannah was born, it was always temporary, and I never thought otherwise. This time, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be going back even before I was done working, which was two months before my son was even born. I did think that maybe I'd start to feel ready to go back in some ways, like I did with my daughter, but the opposite is happening. I suppose part of the reason for that is when I went back last time, I entered an extremely hostile environment. I had seniority and people were getting laid off, so I guess people figured I didn't deserve to retain seniority after a year off.

People are fickle. Your priorities sure change when you have kids. BC (before children) I would have made every effort to get those people to talk to me and sort stuff out, but as it was, I was content going in, putting in my hours and getting home to my family. I used to put weight in work relationships, but I found out the hard way how superficial they are. Not that I haven't made some really good friends from jobs, but it's easy to confuse a working relationship with a friendship. There was actually one girl I invited to our wedding who didn't come because it was her boyfriends birthday. I still didn't catch on until came back from mat. leave what exactly our friendship meant to her. (nothing)

I am a little more choosy about the company I keep now that I have more important things to think about. I actually quite enjoy it, it's liberating in a way. I used to spend time with people I didn't want to be around, feeling awkward, but too polite to ditch out. That is a thing of the past. Visiting anyone takes so much effort these days, we don't waste time being polite, we only ever see people we want to see. I love it. Kids are great as an excuse for not being able to make it to parties or dinners. Unfortunately that also means that sometimes we want to go out and aren't able to. You win some, you lose some I guess.

Overall I'm pretty content. More than I thought I ever would be actually. I'm glad, because Alan and I thought we were pretty content being DINKs (double income, no kids) and I wasn't completely sure about kids. I know we wouldn't have gone above and beyond to have babies. Despite the lack of sleep, the parenting disagreements, the diapers, etc, etc, I'm more at peace with life than I ever imagined I would be, and my life is more full than it could ever have been without my family. It's worth living frugally, not having any free time, constantly cleaning, sacrificing my body and sometimes a little of my mind. So I'll avoid posting on days where all I would do is give a detailed account of how many times I had to get up between 8pm and 8am. I'll try and stick to the bigger picture.

Until next time.

I'm In Repair

There's something to be said for taking care of yourself. It's pretty easy to fall into the slump where you only wear sweat pants or pajamas all day when you're on maternity leave. And since I've never been a make-up wearer, or a hair-dooer, it's even easier for me. These days I have to remind myself to brush my teeth in the mornings. Hey, it sounds gross, but other things demand my attention! Should we be leaving the house, I do make it a priority. Just that fact though says something about my slump. List of things to do before we leave in the morning: 1. Make sure to pack potty seat, 2. Check wipe supply, 3. Brush teeth!

On that note, I didn't even realize how much of a slump I'd fallen into until I started taking New Years Resolution #1 seriously. Yes, even the days when I pulled out my hair elastic to find my ponytail would stay in place by itself, or that the hair on my legs kept getting pulled unintentionally by my kids, I did not realize how bad it was. It wasn't until I started working out and watching what I'm eating as per my resolution, that I could see where I'd gotten myself.

This week I got a haircut. I know for women it's not as necessary to get haircuts as often as it is for men, but before this week, my last haircut was November, 2008. That's right, I went all of 2009 without getting so much as a trim.

Today I also cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned every square inch of it. Floors-swept and washed, cupboards-wiped, counters-sorted and cleaned, appliances-cleaned and polished. Not only that, but I emptied the dishwasher so that no dirty dishes could gather on the newly clean counter. I actually took pictures of it, it was so clean. How is this related to anything? I believe that the betterment of myself, is spreading to envelop not just my physical self, but my environment. Who knew?

Now if I could just get some sleep, I might be able to clean up my attitude too. (As per resolution #3.)

Mars/Venus

The differences between men and women are becoming more and more clear to me in the last year or so. Maybe it's because I now have a son after having a daughter, but I don't think that's it. I notice things like how a man makes a sandwich on the counter and doesn't use a plate so as to save the washing of the dish, but leaves crumbs and possibly slops of mayonnaise or mustard on the counter. Then when you ask him to please use a plate, he can't see the logic. I used to call it "crumb blindness," as I thought he just couldn't see the mess on the counter, but now I'm realizing that it goes way beyond just crumbs. It stretches out to encompass everything that he's not tripping on, or having to move out of his way. Because of this, from now on I will only invite men over for gatherings. It means less (no?) cleaning.

There is also the matter of venting. Recently I read a blog post about a woman who said she needed to have her girlfriends no matter how close she was with her husband since when she vented to him, he always wanted to find a solution, rather than just listening and being sympathetic. I thought, "Wow! Alan is the exact same way!" I couldn't believe it. In the short time since I read that, I have heard at least two other women express the same sentiment. It's kind of like when you name your child, all of a sudden you notice that name everywhere. Was it always there and you just didn't notice? Yes.

Taking these new discoveries and applying them to my relationship is easier said than done. I do not have "crumb blindness," I might go the other way and have something more akin to "crumb sensing" which I have to just accept. It's a mystery that people are monogamous considering these polar opposite attributes. I suppose one could argue, that is what makes us complete. One picks up where the other lacks.

So instead of stewing inwardly when my husband doesn't do something I feel should have OBVIOUSLY been done, I'll just have to remind myself that his brain doesn't work that way. And probably count to 10 and take deep breaths...

Introductions

The more I read, the more I realize what garbage this is. It's quite discouraging actually, but I just have to remember that I started this for myself and am pretty sure no one has read it and so I should get back to the original reason and inspiration behind it.

Here's a bit about me:

I'm a 30 something. I have many personality flaws which I desperately hope I don't pass on to my kids. If you ever hear someone list their personality "dislikes" I usually encompass most, if not all of them. I'm often unintentionally rude. I forget I'm not the only one in a restaurant or public area. I form opinions on things before being adequately informed. I'm an aggressive driver, walker or cyclist. I recycle like someone who's life depends on it (or their kids lives...). I compost, I reduce, I use biodegradable products, but I still use disposable diapers. (I looked into it, the footprint is about the same!)

I'm a wife and mother of two. I don't like children, never have, but I love my kids fiercely. More than I ever thought possible. It hasn't really changed how I fell about everyone else's kids though. Well , most everyone.

I have a short fuse, I'm quick to judge and I don't like wasting my time, on people or anything else. As a friend I'm loyal to a fault.

I'm emotional, unreasonable and hormonal. Often all at once. I say what's in my head before thinking it through. Often things come out of my mouth completely wrong, even from what was in my head.

I was obese. It started around age 13, and continued on until I was 25. When I became the calorie Nazi and lost 75lbs. Being the fat girl all my adolescent life really defined me. I'm insecure, I'm loud, I'm paranoid. I always feel like people are looking at me and judging me. In turn, I am extremely judgemental, although I consciously try not to be. I'm terrified of passing all of my bad qualities on to my kids. It also seems like these traits are intensifying with age. Hopefully my husband sees me as more of a fine wine, rather than sour grapes.

This introduction seems to have turned into a bit of a pity party, which is reflective of my mood. If the post seems choppy it's because every sentence was interrupted by a needy child. Like I said, I have a short fuse.

To try to end on a more positive note, I'm a person who didn't know if I'd ever live with someone, or get married, and here I am, Suzy Homemaker, and loving it. I love cooking, cleaning, keeping house, parenting and playing with my kids. I love projects and hobbies. I love tasks and details. I'm happier than I think I ever believed I would be, and at the moment, there is nothing I would change about my life or how I live it.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

The End, And The Beginning

I think I may have all but exhausted the topic of blogging in this blog. My hope was that it would take a natural direction, seamlessly transitioning into what my original intention was for it, which was pretty much just random thoughts, past and present experiences etc, etc. Basically an online journal of sorts. That doesn't look like it's happening quite as naturally as I'd hoped. I couldn't really just jump in with some random story without some sort of segue. All of my adoring readers would wonder what happened to the endearing and enthralling random thoughts from a very green blogger, then turn the proverbial tail, and run. Okay, realistically, my thoughts on blogging are probably not captivating audiences across the nation, but I did feel like I needed start making the move. Maybe I'm maturing.

What can I say, there will be more to follow...

Technicalities

After making my last post, I asked my husband, Alan, if I could refer to him by name in my blog. His first reaction was, "You're writing a blog?" I guess he thought I was just reading them.

After some discussion about the subject of my blog (blogging, he didn't believe me) I had to ask a second time. Did he mind if I used his name in my blog? He replied, "It depends on the context." So from now on I will address my husband by name, unless I think he may find the subject unfavourable, for then he will remain, "my husband."

On another note, I've been itching to rant about several close relations of mine who are constantly doing bizarre or stupid things, but I worry that they might end up finding the link one day and I'd be up the creek. Also, everyone has their own annoying and strange relations, I'm sure they don't need to read about mine. That's part of the joy of Christmas, is it not?

A quick update on the resolutions, #'s 2 and 3 are going swimmingly, but until the baking has cleared out, #1 is not looking too hot. There are still 361 days to work on it thank goodness!

More Of The Same

Resolution #3: Have more patience/be less of a bitch to my husband and daughter.
I forgot about this one the other day, which doesn't bode well for the rest of the year. That's not to say I won't still make the effort, but being that I've already forgotten once...

I'm a bit of a short fuse these days and unfortunately those closest are taking the brunt of it. I've heard people say, "Why do we treat the people closest to us worse than we'd treat any stranger?". Well, my answer to that is the obvious, if the stranger was in my house making a mess while I'm trying to clean, they'd hear a few choice words too. And on the other foot, I'm nice to my husband in ways I would never be nice to a stranger.

For fear of making this a blog about blogging, more things have come up (in my head) about how this works and the pros and cons of it all. For example, do you ask someones permission to put their name or stories in your blog? I'm sure you may have noticed multiple references to "my husband." Also, what if I've got a doozy of a story about someone that's not insulting, per se, but may be slightly embarrassing should they see the incident from my point of view. Or what happens if something I want to relate has happened to someone I'm remotely related to. Do I have to tell them they will be in a post? I realize I'm making this more complicated than it needs to be, but that's just part of my charm. Welcome to my blog that journals my blogging.

This Time For Sure!

This year, I'm doing something I've never done before. I'm making New Years Resolutions. My first, and most cliche resolution, is to "get healthy." Yes, I'm going to lose weight, but not just that, I also want to eat healthier and be in generally good shape. I want my cardio up to par in case of a zombie apocalypse. Right now I'd be a goner.

My second resolution is to keep up this blog. I'm committing to a minimum of 3 entries per week. I know, not off to a good start, but in all fairness, I was on "vacation." (Can any trip at Christmas to see family really be called vacation?) This writing this is a bone of contention between my husband and I. I'm not really clear why. I think part of it is that I'm doing it while the kids tear the house apart, but I think he also kind of thinks I'm a geek for it. If you knew my husband, you would realize the irony in this. I suppose to him it is a new and strange world, and maybe just a little scary. (i.e.; What is my wife saying about me?)

I'm off to the wrong foot as far as resolution 1 goes, but for resolution 2, I'm in the good! Good luck to anyone with their resolutions! No, really...