It's only Monday and my Eye's Already Twitching

I thought that I would have a myriad of posts during spring break...however, it was quiet here.  My mother came and took my kids for 4 days (yes, all three kids for 4 whole days!) and with one daycare child sunning himself on the beaches of Cancun, another too little to cause much disruption, and the third happy to have me all to herself, it wasn't that bad.

Mr. Delusional and I enjoyed some much needed husband/wife time together as opposed to the usual mommy/daddy thing.  There's a difference.  A big one!

Anyhow - my mother eventually brought my kids back (yes, she had developed a bit of a twitch!) and soon after, my chosen son was back here (nicely tanned and full of stories) we were back into the swing of things.  Again, it wasn't that bad because my older two were here and each on loves to be the little mother hen to the daycare children. I was more like an observer than a caretaker.

However, all blissful things must come to an end.  Spring Break is over and we're back to our daily routine...and we didn't miss a beat.  Iman and Isaac each asked to be woken at 530 this morning to exercise with me.  No, I didn't bother waking them that early (I'm not that delusional!), but thought I'd wake them at 630 so we could have breakfast together.  That didn't happen.  They slept through their 7 am alarm....they slept through my 715 "wake up, you're going to be late" and their eyes barely flickered at my 730 "get up now before I get mad!"

We then had the mad dash for "I have nothing to wear" and let's not forget that "there's nothing to eat."  Eventually we got through the hair combing, face washing and teeth brushing and they were off.

Apparently that was the sign for Adam and the daycare kids to go totally psycho.  They fought over toys, they fought over noise, they fought over spots to sit, they fought over who was fighting.  It was horrible.  Then, as if someone waved a magic wand, they were nice and wonderful again....and a little while later, it was back to the fighting.  Needless to say nap time came and there wasn't even a fight to get into bed.  Everyone was very happy to crawl under their covers and grab some much needed sleep.  

They should be waking up soon - I'm hoping they're in a good mood -- we're off to hop in puddles regardless of smiles or tears!

Spring Break

Spring Break is coming.  Just 4 more sleeps.  Grandma has promised to take my lovely, sweet, innocent children.  All three of them.  She offered to do it for the whole week.  We'll see how long that lasts.

Now, I'm going to pretend that grandma doesn't read this blog and just write what I need to say.  So, Grandma - Close your eyes, exit the page, or just fain innocence when you see my lovely offspring.

They are fighting.  My daughter is very much a girl and fights with venomous words spat out in anger, while my son is very much a boy and uses his fists.  I'm not happy with either - but also realize that they are siblings, and as such, they will fight.  Meanwhile, Adam screams and whines and cries to get his way.  All in all, I'm running on that last little thread that's holding me together with sanity...and they're bringing scissors.

So, in an act of desperation, I called my mom for help.  She says "Tell them that Grandma says that they can't come if they don't behave -- put a star on the calendar so that I know...."

Well - this is all well and good, but they don't seem to give a rat's behind.  But -- I'm so close to digging burial plots in the back yard that I'm willing to lie to my lovely mother in order to have a little bit of peace in my life.  I'm THAT stressed.  Right now, I feel like a failure as a mom.

Thank GOD, it's Friday!

I have had a rough week.  Sometime in the middle of Sunday night, someone came and switched out my kids.  They took my lovely, sweet, (rather) well behaved children and replaced them with fight-picking, screaming, whining demons.

Why?  Why did this happen?  I have absolutely no patience for it.

Adam's been rude and mean and pushing/swatting/shouting at everyone and everything if he doesn't get his way.
Isaac has been defiant (so out of character for him) - and Iman's been both clingy and screaming for her own space.

I'm tired.  I'm frustrated.  I have a bunch of homework to do, I have to finish preparing for my trip to Mexico and I have the homework that's associated with that as well.  I really want these last few weeks away from my kids to go nice and smooth....but it's not.

I'm just praying that we'll ground ourselves this weekend and start fresh on Monday.

Big Words and Little Mouths

Back around Christmas time, my chosen son's father was building a super secret gift for his wife (a shoe shelf!).  I'm assuming that chosen son was around while the piece was being built because he was suddenly taking the hammer from the Little Tykes tool station, banging the wall and sporadically shouting, "Dammit!!"

Mom and I worked hard at eradicating this word from his vocabulary.  However, children being the lovely little sponges of learning that they are, Adam quickly picked up on this fascinating expression and began using it himself.  He'd say things like "Stop saying 'dammit,' dammit!" or "Dammit, (child's name) said 'dammit' again!"

So, while I worked hard at ridding it from my chosen son's vocabulary, I worked just as diligently at wiping it from Adam's.  It seemed to work well, I don't recall them saying it much past mid-January.

It must be understood, however, that we are dealing with children...more specifically, we are dealing with my Adam - a boy who shines a new light on the antics of childhood.  We'd been dammit-free for a little over a month when today, Adam got upset that I wouldn't allow him to munch on chocolate covered almonds for supper.

That's right, I am an evil, horrible mother who doesn't let her kids eat chocolate for supper.

Obviously enraged by the deprivation of all things chocolate, Adam runs a loop through my kitchen and living room screaming in frustration.  He stops dead in front of me and with tears in his eyes shouts, "You Dammit!!"


It was so wrong of me to do, but I laughed.  I laughed until I cried.  This just made him even more angry, but I couldn't help it.  I laughed and laughed and laughed.

In the end, we talked about the whole issue and how that's not a word that nice people should say...then we ended up having popcorn for dinner.

What?  Is popcorn not a complete meal?

My son...the diva

So, I've been really worried about my middle guy.  He was withdrawn and not really paying attention in school; really, just not himself.

I went into the school to see if maybe he was getting picked on.  No body has noticed anything, but the teachers assured me that they'd be on alert.  I talked to my daughter, and even popped into his old kindergarten teacher to see if she had any insight.  Nothing.  Couldn't figure out what the deal was.

Then, I did the massive cleaning thing because of my freak out about the bed bugs.  I cleaned everything in my house -- including (obviously) his bed sheets.  Put the bed back together -- it has a reversible comforter, one side is navy, the other is a smokey blue.  I think it looks better navy side up.  Isaac walks in as I'm putting the sheets on the bed and says "please but the other side up, mom!"  and I said "sure, whatever"

His reply nearly knocked me off my feet.

"Oh thanks, mom!" he says "I was so worried you'd be sad that I didn't like the way you did it.  It keeps me awake at night because I can't fall asleep in an ugly bed, and then I'm so tired in the morning and can't concentrate at school."

What?!?  I'm worried that my kid's getting bullied or worse, and he's being all melodramatic about a blanket!!  Yikes!

At least he's out of his little slump.

a week with my toddler - Update

Just some of the things that I go through in a week with my lovely, spirited, wild child.

Monday, after a really tough day, he came up to me saying "mommy help, boogie" which as you may have figured out -- he needed a Kleenex.  So, I sigh, grab one and tell him to blow.  He gives it a couple good shots and then I see it.  It's not a boogie in his nose...it was a wadded up gum wrapper.  He'd balled it up and, for some reason that I cannot begin to fathom, shoved it up his nose to live there for a while.  I know it's been a while, considering that the last time that we'd had any gum was on the Friday before.  Nice.

Tuesday, I was still in a bit of a funk, but Adam didn't seem to care.  Rather, he'd discovered a tear in my couch (along the top, behind where the back rest cushion is) -- apparently, this was fantastic, because he proceeded to dump his bin of dinky cars in there.  One by one.  I thought that he was lining them up on the back there...it wasn't until he said "Oh...Crash!" that I was alerted to his game.  Out of a bin of 200 dinky cars (yes, I know there are 200 there, possibly more), I didn't find out his dastardly scheme until there were only about 50 left.  I was left with the decision to leave my couch full of cars, or cut the bottom dust cover thing off to rescue them.  I still haven't decided what to do - the cars are in a "mom limbo" at the moment.

Wednesday we had an invite to the school.  They were doing a Welcome Back BBQ.  We went for burgers and cake -- and of course, got to tour the class rooms and meet the teachers.  While I was busy chatting up the teachers, Adam ran along from desk to desk, filing his pockets with crayons and erasers from the children in my son's classroom.  Sweet.  I get to send Isaac to school the next day with other people's possessions and a shameful note of explanation.

Thursday I realized that I wasn't down in the dumps because I'd been in a funk, nope, it was my body prepping me for the inevitable - the first cold of winter (and yes, I can sadly say that winter has arrived.  It snowed here.  Not in my city, but so close to it that you may as well say it was here...and it didn't stay, but still - we don't usually get those snows until mid-late October, and the snow doesn't usually start staying around until mid-November or so)  Anyhow - I was feeling sick, and because I'm a great mom when I'm sick, I wasn't about to cook my kids a meal.  It was an "eat your left over lunch, pick a cereal or starve" kinda deal.  My daughter figures that she'll be a great help and make popcorn for supper.  I lay on the couch in misery while they munched away downstairs.  Adam spilled his bowl, and rather than pick it up, he stepped on it, crushed it to bits and then pushed it under the couch.  My wonderful daughter decided to vacuum it up for me.  She's sweet that way.

Friday has just started, but he's already into a very "toddler" mood of Everything-That-I-See-Is-Mine.  I'm praying to make it to nap time - by which time, Grandma should be here to save the day.






Update 1  (yes, I'm leaving this open...I've still got a good 2 or 3 hours left before bedtime)- today (Friday), my sons' newly painted bedroom got a bit of a face lift by a graffiti artist who goes by the name of Little Adam.  And by "a bit", I mean, the entire length of a single bed from as low as he could reach to as high as he could.  He also did it in about 1.3 minutes flat.  With three adults in the home and only two children here for me to watch (including the artist himself), I'm still not sure how that happened.

I wanna give up

I had a rough day -- it was hard.  It was a really, really, bad mom day.

It kinda went like this:

• wake up before I'm really ready to, but get up and face the world anyway.
• do 2 loads of laundry, make 3 lunches, and prepare my daycare before the clock strikes 7.
• wake up my children.  One doesn't want to get up and I end up arguing with him.  I feel bad for doing so.
• get my chosen child ready for school; dressed, fed, washed up.
• attempt to wake my own child again, this time with threats.  I feel worse.
• send children off to school, I'm angry and feel bad for being angry.  What if it's the last time I see them and I"m angry?  I feel even worse.
• Toddler is up and being a toddler.  Chosen child toddler arrives and is also being a toddler.
• The two toddlers fight about everything.
• They kick each other, they pull each other's hair, they scream, they push, they knock over.  I lose my patience and shout.  I feel bad.
• Repeat the above scenario in your head until you're ready to pull out all your hair.
• I send the kids for nap and allow myself to sit here and cry rather than study.  Now, I feel guilty for giving in to tears (I'm not a crying type of gal).  Homework is left untouched.
• The boys wake up from their naps with just slightly smaller horns than they went down with.  I'm an emotional mess.
• My kids get home from school - and I warn them that I'm very grumpy - which makes me feel even worse because they're my kids and I shouldn't make them feel like they need to walk on egg shells.
• The chosen children go home and my mood doesn't change.

I need an emotional outlet but cannot find one.  

This is the reason that so many women are unhappy mothers!!  Everyone thinks they have to be happy go lucky all the time.  Reality is, sometimes, being a mom SUCKS.  I love my kids to death, but I really, really, REALLY need a "me" day.

That is all.

Excuses, excuses...

That's right, in case you're blind (or have a life), you'll have noticed that I haven't been posting with my usual regularity not to mention my wit and sarcasm.  I don't even know what happened to the last two (I'm in a sarcasm slump, if you can believe that!), but I've been busy with life.

First there's the daycare -- it's been raining here.  Like RAINING.  As in so much rain I was beginning to wonder if our next craft might be building an arc and arranging to get 2 of every animal aboard.  So, my days have been spent policing children who are too cooped up to do anything but argue and fight.  I actually have a little bite war going on between my own demon toddler and my poor little daycare boy (although he's also given his fair share of bites).  I have to keep reminding myself that it's just a stage and they'll out grow it, but in the mean time, I want to cry.

Because of the rain, my kids are bored.  There's the usual "I'm bored" that you get during summer holidays, but this is genuine boredom.  It's like the real life version of  The Cat in the Hat "too wet to go out, too cold to play ball, so we sat in the house and did nothing at all" -- except no crazy cat comes to make life fun/interesting.  Only me, and I'm neither fun nor interesting lately.

I've learned a few things about myself during this extended period of I'm-So-Bored-I'm-Debating-Suicide.  First - I no longer like my coffee with cream.  Ages ago, I went from cream & sugar to just cream....then, lately, drinking my coffee has been making me feel nauseous.  Couldn't figure it out and unfortunately, I'd rather contemplate cleaning out a viper pit than face my day without caffeine.  Then, I poured a cup one groggy morning, got distracted by one of many things, and went back and took a sip without the cream.  Oh, sweet heavenly dark bliss!  I'm in love.

I also learned that when my nails get too long, I can't type.  This is kind of a TMI tidbit...but it's here and posted so deal with it.  It's not like my nails are drastically long ...maybe just 1/2 a centimeter (that's a little less than 1/4 inch for my southern friends).  Regardless, it messes up my typing.

And -- here's the big time waster for me.  I've got a bit of an infatuation going on with someone I found on YouTube.  I actually saw one of her vids about 4 or 5 months ago, but was too busy with school to do much more than a quick glance at it.  Amenakin is a Muslim gal from the UK, and is brilliantly fashionable and has created the most funky and gorgeous ways of wearing a hijab.  I love it.  She also has an online hijab shop, that I have bought myself a few scarves from - and have plans to continue to do so until I have almost everything that she's selling!  Here's a little promo for her stuff...and I love it!



And finally, there's the book.  This Faith Club thing is really getting me down. I was expecting so much more....meat to this.  It's kinda filled with fluff.  Don't get me wrong, it's been interesting, but it's not near stimulating enough for me.  The last time I read a romance novel, I was about 12.  This reminds me of a romance.  Easy reading but not brain teasing.  I prefer a book that grabs me and keeps the pages turning.  I'm going to try and get the rest of this book read and post up my thoughts, but if you're looking for new chapter thoughts, that's the reason they've been MIA -- because I can't stand not using my brain and this book just doesn't do it for me. (and, I feel really bad too, becuase one of my followers, Tina, bought it for me and I really want to like it, but just can't bring myself to!  At least it's brought some comments to the blog!)

Okay, kids are here -- gotta start my day.

Le Sigh

Well, life with my toddler will never cease to amaze me.  He is sweet and fun and mischievous and frustrating all at once.  Here -- take a glimpse into my life lately:

• He went for a "walk" to go see his grandmother without me or hubby knowing.  He was 5 houses away before a neighbor caught him.
• He sneaks sips from my coffee (or dads, or whoever leaves theirs unattended for too long)
• He's now fascinated with bras and wants to wear them all the time.
• My bed = his bed.  When I tried to tell him different, he told me to go sleep in his (toddler) bed.
• He attempts to eat dirt/sand DAILY.  He doesn't get the whole "mud pie" thing.
• He takes off his own diaper now -- usually when it's full of poop.
• He has "shampooed" with Vagisil.
• He pretends to shave his legs with his dinky cars.
• He can be out the door/in the cupboard/wherever he knows he shouldn't be before you can blink.  Seriously - I think that he's got mutant speedy abilities.

That's it for now -- it's nap time here (as close as it can get to relaxing with the above child resting and not sleeping) and I need to get on to chapter 7 of the book.

You ate WHAT?!?

My toddler can be a defiant little demon challenging - I've raised two other children through the toddler years, but I don't think I've ever faced the things that this little guy puts me through.  Drawing on the walls, climbing up the shelves, learning how to open my locked doors so that he can go for "walks", sampling my makeup, opening up pop cans, cleaning out my litter box (into the dryer no less) - nope, this kid is a one-of-a-kind walking disaster.

Case in point: Last night they were all playing happily.  Oh, who am I kidding, they were squabbling and bickering -- then I let them make forts out of the couch cushions.  This seemed to dim the whining a bickering for a little bit.  Then, my daughter got the brilliant idea of pulling out the little penlight that she got from grandma (yes, you, grandma!).  This was all cool with me.  I was doing homework and was just happy that there was relative quiet for me to study.

Some time passes, and then Adam walks up to me and says "Mommy, all gone." and points to his mouth.
"what's all gone?"
"all gone...candy...all gone"
"what candy?"
Adam proceeds to roll his eyes at me and goes over to his pile of cushions.  He comes back with the flashlight -- open and emptied of batteries.  Then says "Candy...all gone.  Adam eat all gone."

Suddenly, vivid scenes from that show on TLC about kids eating strange things comes into my mind.  One was of a kid who ate batteries and nearly died from his internal bleeding.  YIKES.


So, I call Health Link (a service in my area that has nurses to give advice 24 hours a day) -- they directed me to the Poison Control Center who said "This boy needs to go to the hospital now."  They proceeded to question me about which hospital I planned on taking him to and I packed up a bag and left.

We got to the hospital, and it was "Hi, my little guy swallowed a battery -" that's all I got out.  The nurse says, "We've been waiting for you, come on in."

*this never happens.  It's usually at least a 4-6 hour wait!*

He freaked about being weighed, he freaked about having to put on a hospital gown.  He didn't want to talk to the nurses, he tried to snag the doctor's pop, he played peek-a-boo with the woman in the bed next to us with the curtain that divided the room, he tried to run away 3 or 4 times...

Finally they call us for x-rays.  2 shots and it's done.  They spot the battery (just one) and tell me it'll come out as nature intended.

Yay for me -- I get to squash poop for the next few days until I spy a battery.  Fun.

Little Admirers

Okay, I have an issue.  My daughter is only 9.  In fact, she just turned 9.  She's fun, she's nice (when she's not bothering her brother) and she's pretty.  She's a great little gal and I'm proud of her.

But - there is a dark side to this lovely little story.  BOYS.

Yup, my 9 year old daughter who is only in grade 3 has boys following her around like she's Cleopatra or something.  It's a little scary.  It started with a cute little thing at school -- he gave her a cookie, then a little kinder toy (not the chocolate, just the toy), then the other boys started one-upping him.  She was getting little pet shop pets that were stolen from sister's rooms, hairbands, earring, necklaces (all dollar store pieces, but still!).  It got to the point that I had to call the teacher.  #1, I don't want my daughter to start using this to her advantage, #2, I don't want some parents hard earned money to be going to my kid when it shouldn't be.

So -- all was good for a while.

Then...they started following her home.  Why this creeps me out is beyond me, but they follow her home and then sit outside our house for hours waiting to spot a glimpse of her.  Isn't that a little Silence of the Lambs to you?

Freaky.

So -- I put a stop to that. Told them that if they wanted to come over to play with her, that was fine, but that they needed their parent's permission first, AND it could only be on a weekend (hey -- I deal with kids all day long, I don't need even more!)

Now -- it's phone calls.  I didn't think I'd have to be dealing with this so early.  But they're phoning.  They call, and it's usually (from what i can hear on my end) "hi, what are you doing? Do you want to play at lunch/recess tomorrow?  Okay, bye."

But there's one little freak-o-rama out there who calls to serenade her.  I was busy dealing with the kids and the little man calls and she goes off to talk.  Kids leave, supper's ready and I'm like, "where's my daughter?"  She'd been on the phone for an HOUR with this kid!  An Hour!!  She's on her bed, the phone's on speaker and I hear him singing this:

"I'm gonna...KILL the bugs
KILL the bugs.
Squish them all right dead.

I'm gonna...KILL the bugs,
KILL the bugs,
Keep them from your head..."

Yeah...you're thinking what I'm thinking.

So -- daughter's sitting there on her bed mouthing to me "I don't know how to make him shut up!"  I just about peed my pants after the initial shock of it all.  I ended up saying "supper time" and she quickly told him she had to go.  Now when he phones, she begs me not to answer.

But -- the creepiness is not over yet folks, no...he will phone...and phone...and phone.  Last time, in a 10 minute window - he called us 8 times.

Dude -- you're little crush is cute, but I'm ready to call the cops at this point.

Meanwhile, my daughter now cringes when the phone rings.  How sad is that?  Why can't people control their kids?  I mean...when my kids want to phone someone, I'm in the room with them.  In my opinion, it's no different than allowing them online alone.  How am I supposed to know what's going on if I'm not there to eavesdrop  listen in... er... keep them safe?  How do parents not know where their child is for so long (with those boys hanging out at my place from about 4 to 7pm)  That's just wrong to me!

What's worse -- why don't these parents teach their children some manners and respect???  I just don't get it.  I hope that when my kids grow up, they're able to marry someone who also had parents that taught morals and common sense.

The Joy of Toddlers

I will shortly be suffering from a breakdown of some sort. It is now 8:29am, Adam has been awake since shortly after 7…just an hour and a half. In that time he has managed to:

• Spill oatmeal all over the counter top and cupboard faces as he “helped” to put his bowl away.
• Put my tooth brush into the toilet.
• Sneak into the bathroom after said toilet incident and brush his own teeth with apparently an entire tube of toothpaste.
• “clean” my cat box (ie, spread litter all over the floor)
• “feed” my cats (ie, spread their food/water dishes all over the floor)
• Put some more cat food into my dryer.
• Put some dirty cat litter into my dryer (this happened as I was cleaning up my toothpaste mess)
• Peel a mandarin orange and spread its juice all over the table
• Push my desk chair over to my fish tank and “play” getting the seat of the chair wet and stinky with fish water.
• Start not one, but two fights with the daycare kids.
• Remove the cushions from my couch to jump

*sigh* - it’s going to be a very long day.

Eye twitch! Eye twitch!!!

I'm at T-45 minutes to closing time and it's all out toddler war fare here! Somebody bought my son a stupid Mickey Mouse phone. I thought I threw the thing away, but through some miraculous act, it was found. Day care boy had the audacity to touch it. Adam throws an absolute fit resulting in daycare boy throwing one too.

I take the phone away, thinking it will solve the problem. Silly me, I didn't realize that it would make them gang up on me. Now that they have joined forces, they are both screaming, crying and thrashing about on the floor...in near unison I might add. Who choreographed this routine??

Send help...quick!

The things you do when your internet is down…

Not homework, because that would make sense. Yes, I may already be done my assignments, but I am taking two classes right now, so why not get to work on the things I can do ahead of time?? Well – because it’s much more reassuring to sit here and click on the refresh button and hope.

No, I think that I'll reminisce. I could think about the things that happened today. Hmmm…morning started off okay, but once all my daycare kids were here, that went to hell in a hand basket fairly quickly. Between the tantrums of my own child, the whining of the one whom I suspect is fighting off something, and the bickering and fighting with the other three…my morning almost made me take a stress leave. However, after nap time, everyone was in a much better mood.

That much improved mood meant emptying my 200-piece Mr Potato Head all over my floor. Not a big deal – what was a big deal was that instead of playing with the pieces in a conventional way, the toddlers decided it was much more fun to see how far they could toss the pieces around the room. Little flying eyeballs and lips of mass destruction is what they created.

Then there was the “potty competition”. Yup, if you can believe it, we are trying to potty train a few of them here. My little guy gets a stamp on his hand every time he asks to pee and performs. My girl who’s potty training here is now excellent at staying dry, and only gets stamps if she poops. Another child has been having a bit of a backlog, and was thusly told that she would also get a stamp if she could poop. The deal was this…I need to see the poop…not just be told of it. In the space of about 20 minutes there were 4 trips to the bathroom to view and analyze poops of various sizes and colours; they debated on whether the poop merited a stamp, which was either withheld or passed out accordingly.

Then my older ones came from school. My middle guy, who was excited about a loose tooth he discovered a few weeks ago said “mom, my tooth hurts”…the thing was so loose I didn’t even have to pull it out, it basically just came out. Though he likes to say “mom RIPPED the tooth out of my mouth.”

For some reason, his tooth falling out had a soothing effect on me. I’ve been a little stressed lately (not getting into it now), but with all the grumpiness in the daycare today, I was about to explode. That tooth just made everything else seem so trivial.

So that was my day – teeth, tantrums, toileting and tossed toys. Oh – and my “down internet” turned out to be my PC stuck on an expired IP address. Simple refresh of the pc through the command prompt (makes me sound intelligent to say this – but I was walked through by the cable company!).

A look back at 2009

So, I decided that I should look back at this year. A reminder of all of the good as well as all of the bad.

First there was school. Though I technically started in the Fall of 2008, it was about this time of year that I got my official marks. I'm a keener, an over-achiever and very likely the most competitive person that you know. My biggest fear was failure. I was, after all, a high school drop out. I am happy, and yes, very proud, to admit (= brag) that I have a GPA of 4.0. Can't get better than that!

Then there's family. My baby turned one, began walking and talking. 2 of my 3 children are off at school (and are competitive keeners like me!). My husband was promoted. The relationship between my stepson and I deteriorated. Stepson left the house, sick of our rules. Though we see him every so often, the relationship between us all (with the exception of Stepson and Baby) is very, very strained. One day, he will see the reasons behind everything, but until then, we live as the evil, unrelenting parents.

There was the walk for Cancer. I walked all night. It was tiring, and by the time the sun rose and the closing ceremony was finished, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. But even though there were so many of my family members lost to Cancer, it was surprisingly cheerful. The time spent with my Aunt, Mother and cousins was important to me. I'm glad I did it.

I learned to knit. To some, this is an "old lady" thing, but I don't care. Knitting was something that my grandmother did, and I always wanted to learn. She died when I was in grade 6. The yearly gifts of slippers and scarves came to an end. No one picked up those needles to carry on her tradition. Years have gone by and I learned how to knit. Months of searching the internet for patterns finally yielded a pattern as close to grandma's that I could find. Slippers soon came. My family all have matching slippers - some better than others as I tweaked the pattern to my liking. I know that my husband thinks that I'm nuts. I've had many people say to me "why don't you just buy them from the dollar store". But, what they don't understand is that I feel connected to her again...I envision her in my mind...rocking in her chair, her knitting basket next to her as she watched Coronation Street and pretended to listen to my grandfather's ramblings. I miss her terribly, and it's my way to remember.

I got a new cat. Well, some would call him a mountain lion, but he's a giant, lovable fur-ball. Alviss appeared on my friend's Facebook page...needing a home. I helped out. Little did I know that the picture of the gray ball of fluff would turn out to be a 20lb cat! He's huge. He's beautiful. He's cuddly. What more can I ask for?? (okay, he could shed a little less, but beggars can't be choosers, can they?)

I had the most horrible daycare experience ever. A family who was here wasn't happy that I had terminated care. The child was fabulous, the mother was fabulous, the father....an Ass. They were happy with everything, but when I could no longer put up with the father's BS, I terminated care. They, after having had their daughter in care for over a year, accused me of neglect, claimed my home was filthy and, in general, did their best to bring me down. One thing about always doing the right thing, you know that the truth will prevail, but while the truth is busy being detected by child welfare and all the other crap that goes around that....it's stressful. I am still very bitter and very resentful of that whole situation. I genuinely love and care for all the children that are in my Daycare, and their false accusations have left scars.

I had a visit from the very first child ever to be in my dayhome! Funny, how you don't expect these children to age. Wonderful that he jumped out of that van, shouted "Heather!!" and ran to give me a huge bear hug (he's now almost as tall as I am). Sad that he had to leave.

I got a new family in dayhome. They are wonderful. They are fun, sarcastic, witty and real. I am very grateful that they came. Really good dayhome families are a rare gem. This is one of them. I also have a very good friend bringing her child to my dayhome. The fact that we are able to keep our business and friendship as two separate entities is amazing.

Fond memories were made. A rainy holiday in Drumheller. A town full of churches. A visit to Heritage Days and being trapped in a rainstorm. That is one that I never wrote about. The downpour that we went through, arriving to our car dripping as if we'd gone fully clothed into a swimming pool only to have the rain stop minutes after getting inside. It was at first, irritating, quickly overwhelming and soon hilarious. I came home that day to blog about it (once I had dried off and warmed up) only to discover that there was a woman who had died in that very same storm while at the Big Valley Jamboree. Suddenly, it wasn't something to write about.

There were the fun times the kids had with their grandmother. There were all of the great things that my daycare children have said. There were the debates with friends, and a few with strangers. Though I started this blog as a way of putting down the odd and silly thoughts that run through my head, mostly for the amusement of my friends and family to read -- I have come to the realization that there are people from all over the globe (well, so far, just North America) coming here searching for advice, or maybe just confirmation of their innermost feelings.

Everything is a lesson. Best wishes to you and yours, my readers, for a happy 2010!

Oh how I love my mother! Let me count the ways!!

My mother is possibly the best grandmother ever. She takes my children on weekend sleep overs where they play hockey in the hallway, paint fingernails, and build bird houses. She does things with them that I don't like doing, like camping. She is all things grandmotherly; warm, caring, fun and kind. (yet, I must say, she hardly looks a day over...uh...30)

Yet there are times that I think "what on earth was she thinking?!"

The last great outing that my kids had with grandma was spent out at some lake (sorry, forget where). The kids got to eat hot dogs, cook marshmallows over an open fire, make smores and eat all kinds of junk that I wouldn't allow at home. She took them on a "hike" where they got to walk through mud bogs in flip flops. I think that they may have even gotten lost, but she hasn't admitted to it yet (nor have the kids).

Another great adventure of this fabulous weekend-camping-get-away was picking cat tails. They each brought home a large (like 6 inches long) cat tail to keep in their rooms. This was all very cool. I thought that I'd wait until either the novelty wore off, or they dried up to nothing and then I could chuck them.

Unfortunately, these cat tails obviously had wonderful smells of nature that was oh-so-pleasing to my real cats. The kids, when told to go to bed on Monday, ended up laughing and laughing. I was busy doing my mom-duties, and did what most typical moms do. I shouted at them. Something like "stop playing around and brush your teeth!" The giggling subsided, and then I hear whispers and clunking in the bathroom. It sounded like someone was trying to wrestle a monkey. I simply sighed and thought that, like everything else, I'd just clean it up later.

However, I forgot about it. I went in the bathroom that night, brushed my teeth in the dark and went to bed. The next morning, I nearly had a heart attack!

I sleepily toddled into my bathroom and sat down to, ahem, do my business. I happened to look at the garbage can next to the toilet and was absolutely shocked at the sight!! It looked like Ronald McDonald came into my house and shaved his unmentionables. It was horrible and terrifying. There was light orange fuzz all over my bathroom. I was sneezing. My eyes were watering. Then, I found the sticks - with about 1 inch of the dark "cat tail" part left. The rest was the torn up bits of fluff that the cat originally started tearing up, but I'm sure that my wonderful angel children finished doing.

So thanks, Mom. I have learned that I am allergic to cat tails when they release their fluff. And thanks for teaching me that they have fluff...did you know they did? Thanks for scaring the crap out of me at 5 in the morning....thinking some sick, perverted red-head had shaved his nether-regions in my bathroom is a fantastic way to fully wake up.

However, as frustrating as it all was...it was still fantastic. And the kids...they can't wait to go to her house again!

defeat

As a person who doesn't like to give up, this is possibly the hardest post I've ever made. I am sad to say that the relationship between stepson, his father and myself has broken down to such a sad point that, at this time, I don't see how it can be repaired.

He left our home about 3 weeks ago. There was a serious incident that occurred, and it was something that we have experienced time and again. We were continually told that it would never happen again, and yet, it did. There is only so much that one can take. You know that old saying "fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." That's the situation that we're left with...but the hardest thing is, at what point do you give up on your child?? At what point do you say, "this is a problem without a solution?"

I feel like a failure. I want to be there for him. He's making such mistakes that I know are going to cause him hurt and pain and suffering. Yet, he can't see it. The guilt that his father feels is indescribable.

I think that the reason that I feel like such a failure is the fact that I've been where he is. Not exactly the same situation, but close enough to know what lies ahead for him. If he goes back to school, I'll be shocked. If he stays in school, I'll eat my words.

I don't know where to go from here, a place I've never envisioned myself being in, and a place I really don't want to be.

You're So Vain...

Yup, that's right. You're so vain, you probably think this blog is about You. Well, sweetie, it isn't. After all of You're lies and deceit, after all of the manipulating and denial...I'm not taking any more. I know that You think that I was blind to it all. Fact is, I wasn't. I thought that maybe, just maybe if I gave you a chance, you'd see the wrong that You were doing and the hurt that You were causing, but it seems that You, in fact, are the one who is blind.

Yup, that's right, You are still wandering around looking for another person to blame. Can't you see the bridges that You've burned? It so saddens me that You are unable, or more likely unwilling, to change the path that You are on.

The reason that I'm so worried, is because I've been there myself. I've walked that precarious slope that You are clinging to. I've been too stubborn to admit defeat and ask for help. I've been too stubborn to admit that I was wrong an apologize. Eventually, I turned myself around, but at what cost?? Certainly a lot more than I care to think about. There are years gone that I'll never get back.

And now, it seems that You are teetering on this same dark fate. Sad fact is that You have hurt me and broken my trust too many times for me to forgive. It looks like I must let you walk out on Your own, watch you face the demons that I know are lingering in the shadows (or sometimes not, sometimes they are disguised as beacons of hope) and hope that eventually, You will come back to your senses and realize what You've done.

Until then, I wish You the best and truly hope that Your journey is one that You will survive. I know that you will be wounded, but I pray that You will be able to come back to reality, likely scarred, but at least here.

Did I just say that???

So, it's been a stressful few days here. I have a toddler in dayhome who's been acting just like a toddler does. I keep putting off schoolwork (just like I am now as I write this) when I know I should just get it done. Housework, and laundry are being put off. It's just a week of procrastination, and the repercussions are causing very real issues with my body's stress reactions.

Last night, I went out with a girlfriend for a spa night. How completely, utterly amazing! (By the way, I do these parties, if any one's interested -- but how nice to be spoiled by getting one!). A lot of pent up stress was released, and I came home a much happier woman than when I had left.

Fast forward to this morning...kids are up (and there was no fight for it to happen!), lunches were made, breakfast was eaten and homework was packed and ready to go. This, in itself is a small miracle. My day is going well. They all leave for school, and I'm left at home with an infant, two toddlers and a preschooler. Baby and one toddler crash for their morning naps...and the preschooler and other toddler are playing quietly. They are relishing in the newness of the book nook that I've created, flipping through books and lounging on pillows.

Suddenly all hell breaks loose. Apparently preschooler's head touched toddler's pillow. I'm sure that you, Dear Reader, felt the shudder as the earth came to a screeching halt. Toddler starts freaking "move, move, move!" all the while pushing (with hands and feet) on the head of preschooler. Unfortunately, she can't move her head because toddler has wound her little fingers into her hair. Preschooler tries to move and screams in pain, while toddler is still freaking out about the infraction onto her pillow territory.

Meanwhile, I'm thinking that my cup of coffee is suddenly less enjoyable. Not only do I have a disaster in progress, I have one in the making should this argument (and the sheer volume of it) wake the angels sleeping in blissful ignorance in the other room.

"Shhhh!!" I say as I rush over to extract tiny fingers from matted hair. Tears are wiped, war wounds are kissed better and egos are placated. Each child apologizes to the other and they hug and make up.

Then, they start playing tag.

Now...they'd had a taste of freedom last week when the weather was wonderful and they were able to let go of that endless energy children are equipped with. This week, however, has been a cold, rainy, windy, hailing, snowing, blowing kind of week. Not exactly something to bring out little people into without bringing on colds, ear infections and other nastiness.

I decided to let them play, but "we have to play a special game of tag," I say and their eyes fill with wonder and excitement, "we have to play silent tag"

...
...
...

Yes, Dear Reader, you may stop laughing now.

Needless to say, this new game lasted all of 2.5 milliseconds. They laughed and giggled and squealed. Again, I'm thinking of the blissful angles sleeping and the chaos that will come from waking the slumbering babes before they're ready for it. So, my solution -- and folks, I can hardly believe it, but this is what I said: "If you can't play quietly that you have to sit down and watch TV." And I sat them on the couch and turned on treehouse.

Only then, did the complete and total ridiculousness of the words that I'd uttered come to me. And the children themselves were thoroughly disgruntled. I could almost read their thoughts "I can't believe she's making us watch TV."

Which is so ironic! On a normal day I'm saying "We don't need to watch TV. We can have fun without TV." etc, etc, etc.

Oddly enough though, they watched for only about 20 minutes and then the TV was off (and stayed off) for the rest of the day, and no one asked for it!

Check Mate

So, the saga of the standoff continues. This wonderful step-son of mine continues his precarious walk on the tightrope of teen years. Why is it that it seems the trouble that I got into as a teen is nothing compared to his?

Anyhow, the lies go on. Funny how he thinks that he can lie without being caught. Saturday was my mother-in-law's birthday. We have a gathering of her children and grandchildren...all of whom are there with one exception...Step Son can't make it. According to him, it's his half-brother's birthday, and if we had only given him "advance notice" he might have been able to make it. Interesting...because last time I looked, we live in a house, not an office, however, I will keep in mind to send him a CC next time an event is planned.

As I was busy preparing the meal (salmon, rice and asparagus, YUM!), I just shook my head and sighed, figuring I'd deal with the issues later. It wasn't until my brother-in-laws started popping in that I thought...."hey, why is this the first year that I've heard about Step Son's brother's birthday being on the same day as my mother-in-law's?"

The proverbial light bulb went off.

Hubby texts the ex. Nope, no party over there, she's not feeling well and wouldn't have him over that night anyhow.

And so, the texting craze begins.

• Let me begin a side note to this story --- back in the day (you know you're old when you begin a story with those words)...back in the day when I was a child, there was no such thing as cell phones. Well...yes, there were...but they were for business men and presidents only. No child carried around a cell phone. Oh, and we actually used those things sticking out of the bottom of our body to get places...they are called your own two feet! I also know that I probably said like, a lot of like, annoying things to like, my parents --- but there is nothing worse then getting a message that says "I went 2 C a mooV. B back l8tr" That was an honest-to-God note that step son left me once.

Back to the texting....Hubby sends him a text, Brother-in-law sends him a text...and I'm sure his mother was too. He replies back with something real smart like "why can't you just let me be with my friends? You've already ruined my life!!"

Now, I realize that sitting and having cake with your grandmother isn't exactly a teenager's top choice of things to do on the weekend. However, couldn't he have just said "hey, I'd rather hang out with my friends"? I mean, why the Big lie? What advantage does such a thing do? It's not like we would have forced him to stay home....Likely we would have said "okay, but could you at least wait until she gets here to say happy birthday?"

So....since we've all done such a good job of "ruining his life" ... he doesn't come home. Instead he calls the next morning to say "uh...sorry, I just fell asleep."

Problem was, it was too late. I'd already had enough and decided to do a little housecleaning. Since I'd already cleaned the rest of my house (okay, not the toilets, but I'm getting to them), I decided to work on his room. Little did I know what I was in for.

I found seven, yes SEVEN full packages of gum. One was in his shoe, another behind a book, some in a bag.....How can one person have seven unopened packs of gum and not know where they are?? I also discovered that the kid has an Axe Deodorant in every drawer that he has. I found homework from grade 7 (he's in grade 10), I found lyrics to songs and raps. I found clean and dirty clothing, I found pictures, I found awards. I found nearly a dozen empty bottles of pop/water/juice, and an entire 2L bottle of Orange juice under his bed. I found the headphone and speaker set for my computer (which I was frantically looking for when i was supposed to participate in my Audio class for school, damn kid!). I found 1/2 package of cookies, a half eaten package of Ichiban noodles, and some molding banana bread that my step mother gave him. I found three unopened containers of applesauce.

But...the "big" find was in a gift bag under his bed. I found a sparkly blue gift bag (that I recall my mother giving him his birthday gift in)...except, it was devoid of any birthday gift. Instead it had all variety of condoms...ribbed, thin, sensitive...uh...can't recall the rest. Now...on one hand, this scares the crap out of me....and you do that silent prayer that I think any parent of a teen in such angst seems to say "please, don't let them be having sex!!!" On the other hand, I'm thinking....well, if he is, at least it's safe.

This is not a dilemma that I want to be in.

The great room clean went on, if a little more cautious about the things that we'd find. In the end, we had 4 large garbage bags of garbage, 2 recycle bags, and 1 large bag full of old clothes. His room is now stripped of it's posters and memorabilia, he'll get it back when he deserves it.

He came home not long after we'd finished hauling the last of the bags to the trash. He was shocked, but knew he deserved it.

Truth is, if he acts up again, I don't know what to do next! There are no more tricks up these sleeves!!