Thursday, December 23, 2010

Well, Of Course It Does...

My husband called a short while ago, just to say hello (all together now: "Awwww...")...and while on the phone with him, I updated him about Ian's trip to the clinic this morning (turns out that while the boy does not, thankfully, have either pneumonia nor bronchitis, he does need to use a puffer for the next two to three weeks to help with the nasty cough he's developed)...

I also mentioned, while staring at the disaster that is our house two days before Christmas, that I had no idea where to start cleaning because there was so much to do...

His soothing words of wisdom?

"Don't worry about it, it always gets done..."

Well, of course it does!...I'm the one who does it!

Yeesh....

Friday, December 17, 2010

Short and Sweet...

Gluten free beer.

I like it.

Just sayin'...

Thursday, December 9, 2010

At The Moment I Am Definitely Not Feeling The Spirit...

It's December 9, which means its 16 days to Christmas, but the last thing I feel right now is jolly or holly or filled with the Spirit of Christmas...

Why, you may ask?

Because I came home from a quick trip to the grocery store tonight and found someone parked right in front of my parking spot (we have assigned spots here in our condo), and illegally, to boot (she was parked directly under the No Parking sign...the one that is designated for emergency vehicles only? Yeah, that spot...)

When I indicated that she needed to move so that I could get my car into my spot (and let's be clear, I don't drive some little mini "smart" car that can fit into a spot the size of a milk carton...I drive a VAN. We need room to manoever.), she shook her head "no" at me. I sat behind her, waiting for her to get the hint. She moved. A foot. I still sat behind her. I rolled down my window as she got out of her car and called to her, "You can't park there, it's a no parking zone and I have to get into my spot!" She said, "I'm just unloading my stuff..." to which I replied, "Doesn't matter, it's a no parking zone and I can't get in with you there," thinking that logic should prevail and she would move her vehicle.

She did.

One foot.

By that time I was annoyed and even Mariah Carey belting out "All I Want For Christmas" (which has been my happy-feel-good-song this season) didn't help...and so I waited behind her car, pointing at the spot I wanted.

She moved another half foot.

I managed to get into my spot, but because of the angle at which I had to enter, ended up having to reverse the van so I could straighten the thing out. I saw my headlights shining on the side of her car, which was when I put the brakes on, despite the fact that I wanted to hit her car.

I got out of my van at the same time that she jumped out of her car, screaming at me that I had hit her car. (I didn't, for the record) She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down my license plate number, spewing f-bombs at me faster than I've ever heard before (and believe me, I've been f-you'd more than a few times in my life)...when I told her she didn't need to swear at me, she barked off another f-you at me..."I'm calling my insurance company!"

"Go ahead," I told her, maintaining the appearance of calm (even if it was the last thing I felt). "You were parked illegally. Besides, if I'd hit you, I would have felt it."

And I walked toward my front door, glad it was dark out and she couldn't see me shaking. She screamed at me one more time, "You backed into my car!" to which I replied, oh so maturely, "Whatever..."

Once safely inside my own house, I told Brian, who was trying to finish his last two articles of the day, about what had happened. He listened to me, and then at my request, he went out to talk to the woman. See, as a rule, my husband is way more diplomatic than me, and he has the ability to not only assess a situation accurately, but is also capable of thinking of things instantly that most others (okay, me) don't think about until long after the fact. And so I sent him out into the fray (to defend my honor?). He came back and his words of wisdom and support were, "Don't worry about it."

Wh-a-a-t?

An hour or so after the fact, I can see why he said it...there really isn't anything I can do to prevent her from making a claim and the only recourse I have is to tell the truth and hope that I am the one who is believed.

Unlike my husband, however, I do not have the ability to just "let it go until tomorrow"...I have always chewed and stewed over things, wishing that I had handled the situation differently or that I could have said something wittier, more biting, nastier...something that would have hurt that obnoxious witch to the quick...in short, something written by someone else...this whole "let it be" stuff is just not my style (not that Brian hasn't been trying to teach me for the last 14 or so years)...

My friend Ian came over to loan me a cat crate for tomorrow (our kitten is being neutered, thank goodness, tomorrow morning-more on that at a later date), and Brian and I asked him what he knew about the woman who lived next door to him. She's a lovely lady, he informed us. Really? We told him what had happened and he replied, "Oh, that's not Helen, that's her daughter."

Ian told Brian and I that the neighbor has two daughters...one who is perfectly lovely and the one I had a run in with. The word "bitch" was a nice way of describing her, based on Ian's observations.

Clearly this woman is the one with the problem, not me.

But for now, I am dealing with the aftereffects of the adrenaline dump and not feeling so ho-ho-ho...I am going to hope and pray that the insurance companies believe me, not her...

The kids are starting to watch "Shrek The Halls"...so I'm going to go join them and use my babies as my feel good tonic tonight...cuddling up with four people who love me unconditionally (5 if you count Brian) sounds like the right medicine to me...

Thursday, December 2, 2010

It's December Already?

How the heck did that happen?

And where is all the snow Ottawa is supposed to get?

Brian's cousins in Glasgow (that would be Scotland, for those who know of other Glasgows) keep posting on Facebook about how much snow they've been getting...which is kind of weird for them, I will admit...

Meanwhile in the snow capital of the world (Ottawa is the second coldest capital in the whole world...we found that out a few years back-which means we usually have tons of the white stuff by now), we've just spent two days dealing with a "heavy rainfall warning" put out by Environment Canada...something that has made my four children a wee bit cranky...cranky might be an understatement...to Ian, the lack of snow translates into the end of the world as we know it (you should have seen the look on his face when I told him about the year it rained on December 25 and we had a green Christmas...

To be fair, I'm a little tired of the constant gray clouds and the sad state of the landscape...there's something a little depressing about seeing the naked trees and rotting grass...even if I get tired of dealing with the four sets of snowsuits, umpteen boots, hats and mittens, at least the snow makes things look pretty...

Well, until March anyway...by then, I'll be pining for the fresh scent of spring and the end of dirty, slushy snow...

But for now, I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...just like the ones I used to know...oh sing along, it's coming whether you like it or not...get in the spirit...with every Christmas card I write...

Monday, November 8, 2010

Oh That Emma...

This weekend, my in-laws came for a visit before their annual avoid-the-winter-at-all-costs pilgrimage to Florida.

They originally hail from Glasgow, Scotland and my mother-in-law (after nearly 42 years in this country) still has a fairly strong accent...

During dinner Saturday night, the kids were trying to imitate my mil's accent...to which she finally replied, "You want to talk like me? I'd like to talk like you!"

Emma's response?

"What? You want to scream and yell?"

Well, at least she hears herself...

Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Difference That Three Little Letters Can Make...

This morning's gem from Emma:

Emma: "You know, my teacher Mrs. O'Toole is very forgettable."
Me: "Do you mean 'forgetful'?"
Emma: "Dat's what I said...she's very forgettable...she says she's always forgetting things..."

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Have You Ever Had That Feeling...

...Like you're supposed to be doing something, but can't quite remember what it is?

Yeah, that's how I feel right now...

Maybe it's because for the last two weeks, I have been constantly moving...whether it's housework, or driving all over the city running errands for my husband and kids...making cupcakes, fixing veggies for the Brownie/Sparks Halloween party and the Grade 1 "Friendship Lunch"...

What is a "friendship" lunch you might ask? Damned if I know...best I can figure out is that the kids tell their parents what food to bring in, we set it up for them in the hallway (no cafeteria in a Catholic school built in the 1950's before full funding), help feed them and then leave again while the kids go outside to play...maybe it's to help us adults make new friends?

I dunno...what I do know is that there was a ton of food there...and whoever thought so many vegetables were going to be needed for a group of kids when there was a full table of sugary goodies either has children who like veggies (I've heard they actually exist, although to my knowledge I haven't met any who prefer carrots to cupcakes) or doesn't live in the real world...

I also know that the other parents looked at me like I was some kind of lunatic as I passed by the buns, crackers, sushi and deli meats and loaded my plate with veggies (see? There was a reason for forty pounds of them after all...) and fruit...dang celiac disease strikes again...

I never did feel like I fit in anywhere when I was in school...today was no exception...but at least I'm old enough to not care anymore...

Look at me, I'm growing...

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

How Time Flies...

It has been six months since I have written anything here...and really, how many people are there actually reading the ramblings I post here? Other than that one guy at my church, who told me three weeks ago that he loves reading my blog...and when I told him that I hadn't posted anything since April, he mentioned that he hasn't actually read my blog since January...you shall remain nameless, to protect your privacy, but you know who you are...

The homeschooling experiement is over. All four children are back in school. Avery and Emma had asked repeatedly over the summer if they could go back to St. Bernard's, because they missed their teachers, the school and their friends. Finally, at the end of August, I caved. I had intended to continue homeschooling the boys, but a few things led to them returning to the hallowed halls of education...the biggest thing was the Constant. Never-ending. Fighting. If they hadn't killed each other by the end of August, I was going to finish the job for them. I had to ask Brian a few times if their behaviour was normal, because I sure never beat the snot out of my younger sisters and brother...for the most part, he assured me that Ian and Jamie were behaving the way most brothers do...which was more than a little disconcerting, let me tell you...

For weeks, I felt as though I had failed somehow...I imagined that people were snickering behind my back and telling each other (and probably random strangers) that they just knew I would never make it work...of course, that was my own paranoia at work and most people probably never gave it a second thought...still, the idea that I had tried something and failed at it stuck in my craw...until I realized that I hadn't actually failed...the kids did do well while they were being homeschooled...they learned stuff, we had a good time (for the most part)...but the fact is, my kids had spent years in the school system and knew what they were missing and wanted to be a part of it again...and, if the truth be known, I realized that while I love my children dearly and would kill and die for them, I need to be apart from them for part of the day.

I know that makes me selfish. I know there are tons of mothers who spend all day with their children and never think twice about the fact that they can't even pee without someone needing something...but I am not one of those mothers. I came to that conclusion around the second week in August when I was on the verge of throwing the children from the second story window (for the record, I did not do it). I realized that after ten years of being "on-call" for my children nearly 24 hours a day, I deserved a wee bit of time each day for myself...

But that realization didn't make me feel any better about myself, and so I chewed on that feeling of failure for a few weeks too...until I came to understand that I am doing the best I can...and if doing my best means letting someone else have my children for a few hours a day, so that I am not a screaming banshee while trying to get them to understand fractions, then so be it...

And so the children were registered back at school and I have spent the last two months running myself ragged with all of the extra "me" time...driving the kids to school and the husband to work, running errands (it's unbelievable how much food these people eat and they haven't even hit their teenage years yet...I'm sure we'll need a second mortgage just to feed the boys alone!), vacuuming, dusting, laundry, more errands, oh Mama, I need this for school today (information given to me around 8 in the morning-about 30 minutes before they walk out the door for school)...most days I'm lucky if I get to sit down for 20 minutes (today being an exception to type this up)...

People have wondered what I spend all day doing, now that I have all this extra time...I'll let you know...soon...right now I have to go get the kids from school...then stop to vote...then come back to help with homework, make dinner, finish folding the clothes...

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Feel Free To Call Me An Idiot...

...these are the words I said to my husband earlier today...

Why?

Because I ate the damned pizza, that's why.

I've been diagnosed with celiac disease (with the added special touch of being lactose intolerant, thank you very much)...and for the most part I haven't missed bread and pasta all that much...

Until today.

I ordered pizza for the kids for lunch as a treat and even decided to splurge on delivery (mainly so I wouldn't have to leave my nice warm house and go out into the damp, cold April morning) and when the thing arrived, I started to salivate...

Setting the pizza on the counter to cool for a bit, I told myself over and over (mantra-like, you know?), "Bad for you, bad for you...painful bloating, bad gas...don't do it, don't do it nononono...."

And then the little voice inside my head went to work, telling me that there was and is no way possible that I have celiac disease...that I must have made up the whole thing in my head...I mean, really, no one else in my family has this problem...maybe whatever was the matter with me before has gone away...

And the smell of the pizza filled the kitchen with its tantalizing aroma and the crust...it was so...soft...and so I succumbed to temptation and ate an entire triangle...and then I watched my stomach begin to bloat out like someone was filling a balloon inside my gut...

Then I lay groaning on the bed, curled into as much of the fetal position as I could get and whined about all the things I would have to give up...

My birthday is Saturday and there will be no birthday cake. Sniff...

I can't ever eat ice cream again. Sniff, sniff...

No beer. Sniff, snort, sniff...

No more Buffalo Chicken at Denny's on the kids' birthdays. Moan...

No more pizza. Wail...

And just when I was about to start feeling really sorry for myself, another thought crossed my mind...

Suck it up, princess...and figure out a way to make these things so they taste good...

Because I am not living without pizza or birthday cake for the rest of my life...

Monday, March 22, 2010

Farmer in the dell...


Brian and I have just finished reading Alisa Smith and James MacKinnon's The 100 Mile Diet, A Year of Local Eating (ok, I finished reading it...Brian skimmed through the bits he thought were the most intersting) and I have to say that we have been further inspired to try this for ourselves.

I say "further inspired" because this idea of eating foods that have been grown in and around the Ottawa area is something that has been a growing concern/interest for us in the last few years. Last summer's copious rain through the month of July did not help our small backyard garden grow into the cornucopia of fresh vegetables that we had hoped for, but we did get a few tomatoes and some green peppers, a whole lot of salad and some fresh basil and cilantro out of our little plot of dirt. Our tiny garden was nothing like the massive gardens that used to feed my family growing up (or the even bigger garden that my aunt and uncle had out at their place-that thing seemed to go for miles...or at least it seemed that way when you were out there weeding for hours), but the Lilley family garden made me want more...more land, more garden, more sky...just...more.

I want to wake up to the sound of birds and the rooster crowing, not the deafening roar of dozens of planes taking off overhead (which by the way, is how we go to sleep some nights too). I want my own horses. I want to smell the sun warmed grass and feel just how small and insignificant I am as I stand under clear blue skies.

I want to grow my own food and eat it, knowing exactly where it came from and what wasn't sprayed over it or forced into it to make it grow three times larger than normal.

I want to eat eggs from my chickens. I want to eat my own chickens, not ones that have been forced to grow bigger and faster than God and nature ever intended and whose skeletal structures cannot support their own body weight...

I want a goat.

Since I can no longer eat anything containing gluten, nor any dairy products, without my stomach ballooning out very painfully to the size it was when I was 6 months pregnant with the twins, I want to be in complete and utter control of everything that goes into my gullet.

Three of the four children keep telling us they want to move to a farm too (mainly so the dogs will have more than enough room to run free)...Jamie is the holdout, although Brian and I think that he is the one who would end up having the most fun...like the dogs, Jamie likes and needs space to run...

Crap. We're turning into those hippies Brian likes to mock. In our nearly 14 years together, my husband has mocked minivans and their drivers (we now drive one), ADHD (we have 3 of 4 kids and one wife diagnosed with it), celiac disease (um, got that now too), food allergies (check on that one) and people who homeschool their kids...

Maybe he could start mocking the rich and that farm will become more than a dream...


*Photo reprinted with permission from Ad Meskens, Wikemedia Commons

Thursday, March 11, 2010

So What's New With You?

I am probably the world's worst blogger.

I'm guessing that most people who do this update every day, but either A) they have far more interesting lives than I do and/or B) they do not have four children who are now home all the time.

Nope, it's not March/Spring break here yet.

We are homeschoolers.

Yep, you read right...homeschoolers.

We decided to take the plunge one month ago...telling the kids that this is an experiment (and one that can end at any time if they or I decide that things are not going well and we can no longer stand the sight of each other)...but so far, things have been going remarkably well...my biggest fears were that the four of them would be so sick of being around one another that there would be massive fights and screaming that could be heard from Ottawa to Toronto...or that I would be curled into the fetal position by the end of the day, hiding from them, Brian and the pets...

There have been a few moments where the boys have tried to beat each other about the head, but I put that up to them being boys (and brothers)...but the weird (and wonderful) thing has been the stunning lack of fighting, screaming and temper tantrums (from them too)...

Being home with the children all day means a few things for me...things that I was aware of, but hadn't really focussed on...like the fact that there is very little "me" time (not that there was a whole hell of a lot of it to begin with, mind you)...but that marathon I was training for? Yeah, that's going to have to wait...and updating this blog? Well, I'm a little slow on that too...

And along with home schooling, there have, of course, been new health issues to deal with...specifically, celiac disease.

I've known for quite some time now that something was up with me; I just didn't know what...and no, it's not official yet, but since I went gluten free a few days ago and last night ate one (one) piece of garlic toast with my (gluten free) dinner and my stomach blew up five inches larger than it had been before I ate the toast and was so painful I wanted to scream and because of the ten most common symptoms of the disease I have six of them and fall into the two major groups of people who have celiac disease (Type 1 diabetics and those of European descent - Scotland and Ireland are included in that - damn Viking raiders)...I'm placing my money on celiac disease...I'm actually pretty good at self-diagnosis and don't jump on any bandwagon, but yes, before you say anything, I do have a doctor's appointment on Monday and will be bringing this up with him...

By the way, the brown rice bread I bought on the weekend tastes like mdf...going gluten free is NOT something I would do if I felt I had a choice...well, I do have a choice, I suppose...I could keep eating gluten loaded stuff and suffer excruciating pain and eventually become malnourished, but I elect not to do that...

Want to know what else has been going on that has prevented me from posting here as frequently? Well, the puppy keeps eating our floors, for starters...

Yes. Eating. the. floors.

Seems Max has some separation anxiety issues and to deal with things, he has destroyed shoes (mainly mine, although Brian did lose one pair a few months ago), furniture, toys, pencils, books, boots, mittens, hats and now the linoleum floor in the hallway...

Max now has a cage...which he actually seems to enjoy, although he apparently might have to share it with Emma, who told me several times yesterday that she wanted to be in the cage too (locked in)...and when I told her it was against the law for parents to lock their children in cages, she pointed a finger at me and told me accusingly, "You never let me do anything!"

My life may be crazy, but it's good...

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

I Have Succumbed...

...I am a twit.

I have joined the ranks of Twitterers...

And I already have 9 whole followers...

Who cares if they are mostly people I know whose names I clicked on and followed first...

This whole thing is strange to me...Twitter, Facebook, blogs...the fact that I can find out what Sherri Shepherd (from The View) is thinking as she sits at a party with Beyonce and Jay-Z (and what kind of name is Jay-Z anyway? Who came up with that?) is weird...

The fact that I am writing about Sherri Shepherd writing about being at a party with other celebrities is weird...

I do have bigger things on my plate right now...

Like whether we are pulling the kids out of their school to homeschool them because the school is going to switch over to a so-called "balanced day schedule"-which, for those of you who may not have heard the screams of rage coming from our house, is not something Brian and I think is a good idea (and don't any of you give me any crap about how your kids/school is following this kind of schedule and it's working just fine...the reports claiming how well the balanced day schedule works are mixed, at best, and by the way, the kids are the ones not happy with it...and frankly, that's more important to me than whether the principal and teachers are skipping through the halls because they like the bsd...on top of which, I have three of four kids with ADHD, and this kind of schedule will not work for them...so there.)...

The concerns about pulling the kids out of school to teach them here has less to do with my abilities to spend all day long every day with my children than with the fact they won't get to see their friends as often...Avery, being the school nut/fan that she is (she was upset that she had to stay home two days this week because she had a sore throat), was one I worried about...in fact, she told me yesterday when I asked her what she thought about the idea of being homeschooled that she didn't like it because she wouldn't get to see her friends...when I told her that arrangements could be made for her to see them, she still wasn't convinced, because, as she told me, she doesn't know where they all live...after being told that we could find out that information, she still wasn't sure...until I told her that being homeschooled meant that we could take a three week vacation in the middle of winter if we wanted...then she exclaimed,

"A three week vacation in the middle of winter? I'm there!"

Jamie doesn't like going to school anyway...neither does Ian (especially since he deals daily with other kids picking on him-and yes, we have gone to the teachers, resource teacher and prinicpal about it...which is fine and what we are supposed to do, because they talk to the kids in class, tell them what they can and cannot say to other students, the children politely agree and then they go out into the hallways and onto the playground and revert back to the snotty brats they were...which is what kids do, I know, but that doesn't make it any easier to keep your temper when it's your kid being picked on)...Emma, after taking nearly a year to get into school, finally decided in the last week of school last June, that she did like it and wants to keep going...unless everybody else is complaining about how much they don't want to go to school (Avery aside) and then she joins in the chorus...

So really, there is a lot more to think about other than Twitter or Facebook or...well, maybe just one more quick peek...

Monday, February 1, 2010

Noooooo!!!

I have successfully stayed away from Twitter...Brian regularly "tweets" (and I regularly ask him if that makes him a "twit"...then I laugh uproariously while my beloved husband rolls his eyes,makes derogatory comments about my family's background and hums the banjo music from "Deliverance" under his breath)...however, I will say this, it is his boss who wants him on Twitter...

But now, after a year of teasing Brian, he has suggested that I join the twits of the world and sign up for a Twitter account...why? Because it may help direct traffic to my Examiner page (and the more traffic I get, the more I get paid)...

With Facebook, this blog and now an Examiner page, how much more does anyone really want to hear from me?

And does anyone really need to know or want to know what I am doing every minute of the day?

Sometimes even I get too much information about myself...

Friday, January 29, 2010

All The News That's Fit to Print...

It has been over a month since I posted (which seems to be something I say regularly)...

Ian is dealing with being bullied at school...

Avery is officially a Brownie...

Emma has lost her two bottom teeth and received the requisite payment from the Tooth Fairy...

Jamie has become the world's foremost authority on Wii bowling...

Brian has learned to survive (and just barely) on three to four hours of sleep a night due to his workload...

Max the puppy is now the size of a small pony...

Murphy has decided that Max is allowed to chew on her ears, but only for so long before she tries to bite his face off...

Taffy the cat remains as disdainful as ever...

And me?

I am now officially an Examiner...

My area of "expertise"?

Parenting.

Go figure...