She Said She Didn't Give a F**k About Hockey

Oh, the good old hockey game!
it's the best game you can name!
And the best game you can name,
is the good old hockey game!

I am so very sick of Hockey. I cannot express how tired of hearing about Mark Messier and what a wonderful thing hockey is. Seriously. Hopefully the whole thing will be finished now. Anyways, Mark Messier was in town to be celebrated for playing hockey and making way too much money doing it. Don't get me wrong, of all the hockey players out there Mr. Messier is my favourite. I've always found him incredibly sexy in a big, brutish, dangerous and ugly sort of way, he was the centre of many or my most heated teenaged fantasies. So, all anyone could talk about for the last couple of weeks was Mark, which street name to change, how fantabulous he was for the city of Edmonton, blah blah blah. I thought that things would finish with the big ceremony that went on last night and that I wouldn't have to hear any more about hockey other than the regular reports that the Oilers had lost yet again. The news today was all about Mark Messier, how wonderful he is, and how super cool hockey and people who love hockey are. I was impressed to see that Gord Downie and the Tragically Hip were in town today, though when they interviewed him about writing a song about Mark, Gord mentioned that it's hard to find a rhyme for Messier.

The other big hockey news is about the Ugliest Man Ever, Ryan Smyth. He has played in Edmonton for years and yesterday he was traded to the New York Islanders. There were people literally bawling about it on the news (one woman kept goiing on about how she has a 6 year old son, and how will she explain this too him? *sob* she's just so very angry, how could they do this? *sob*), and they actually had a very serious bit about how to seek out grief councelling in this dificult time. WTF?? Grief councelling? Recognizing stress in your children? Because an overpaid oaf is moving to New York? Please. There are so many more important things that we should be worrying about, that we ought to be grieving about...it really makes me quite ill.

In other news, Mary, Jonah, Jonah's mum and I all went off to the water park in The Big Mall yesterday afternoon. Every tuesday and thursday afternoons they shut down the waterslides and only charge 5 dollars admission. The wave pool is still on, as are the various kiddie areas, and it is wonderfully uncrowded. We had a tonne of fun, Mary LOVED the waves, and when I finally dragged her out of there her lips were blue and she was shivering like crazy, but she was desperate to stay just a little bit longer. Also, she actually slept at naptime yesterday, I guess the trick is 2 hours in the pool.

Toddler Blogging

This is why she is still alive. Good lord is she ever cute.






Yesterday we finally had enough junk taken out of the house that we could actually put together the easel that we bought Mary for her birthday. She was giddy with delight, and wanted to share the whole experience with us. If either Ian or I left the room, she would run out and drag us back, babbling excitedly as she handed us a carefully selected crayon. She'd scribble on the paper for a while, and then get so excited that she had to jump up and down and stomp her feet before continueing. She's also learned to say "Cheese!" somewhere whenever she spots the camera, and strike a pose. In both the pictures I posted here she was striking her favourite pose, elbow in the air and head tilted to one side. Have I mentioned how damned cute she is.

Yesterday wasn't all colouring and cuteness, mind you. We went grocery shopping, and I decided to take her for a walk through the mall while Ian found a parking spot. She was great, and happy, and then I tried to get her away from those stupid cars and she Flipped Out. Some old lady came and made sympathetic noises to Mary as she was alternately flinging herself to the floor to scream and lick it, and trying to kick and hit me. It took every ounce of my willpower to remain polite and not to tell the old broad to F-off, yes we are fine, no, she's not a sweet little angel, as you can bloody well see, and yes, I see that she must be a little bit tired. Once I got her into Safeway, Ian was waiting with a fancy truck shaped cart for Mary to ride in. She cheered right up when she spotted that, but it took me a few minutes to get over the urge to leave her in the mall.

Saturday was a fantastic day, not one temper tantrum all day long. She was cute and cuddly and friendly. I wish every day was like that. I was freaky exhausted though, and ended up not going to the birthday party like I planned. By time Ian got home from work, I was fast asleep on the couch surrounded by cats and a sleepy toddler. I suspect it had something to do with not getting home till after 2 am the night before.

Ians fingers are doing okay. At least, the majority of them are. His middle finger on his right hand is definately still the worsst, the whole tip has turned quite black and icky. Yesterday he decided to be nice and do some dishes for me which I appreciated greately, but it did disgusting things to that finger, now it's peeling and big chunks of black skin are starting to come off. barf. On the positive side, beneath one of the big black chunks I spotted some pink skin, which means that there is still circulation to the tip of his finger! While most of it will slough off, it looks like he won't lose the whole tip of the finger and it will eventually heal.

Sucking Happily

This week got progressively better since my last post. I think it helped just to type out how I was feeling and share it with the world at large, though I do feel bad. I can't help but feel selfish and self absorbed....but then again, what is a blog if not an exercise in self absorbtion?

So, Wednesday night, around 3 AM, I woke up feeling strange, I remember thinking that if I wasn't pregnant and I felt that way, I would expect my period to start the next day. I also remember thinking that if I woke up in the morning bleeding I'd be awfully angry. Of course, I woke up Thursday morning and was bleeding. I phoned my Dr's office, and after some effort managed to talk to his nurse. She reccomended that I head in to the hospital to get things checked out. So, after some panicking about what to do with Mary and an almost tearful phone call to Ian in Camrose via his bosses cell phone, I headed off to Labour and Delivery. I hung around, was poked and prodded, had my patchikaka peered at, discussed the merits of the new HPV vaccine with the young lady doctor and was told that yes, I was in fact bleeding from my uterus again, but the baby's heartbeat was strong and normal. I should get an ultrasound within the next week, and if the bleeding got worse, came with contractions or I stopped feeling the baby move I should boot it back to the hospital. I was then escorted to the outpatient ultrasound clinic to book an appointment. As I was booking the appointment with a lady whose grasp on english was iffy at best, one of the techs wandered by and said "I can get you in right away!" So, I had an ultrasound right then and there. They found a small separation in the membranes (whatever that means) that is the source/left over from the last bleed I had, but no clots. Then we watched as the baby booted the crap out of that one spot, likely being the reason for the most recent bleeding. Other than that everything looked normal, the baby was very healthy and according to their measurements, it is already very large (2lbs already, and I'm only 23 weeks along!). I did learn one disturbing piece of information though....In about 15 years I will have two teenaged girls in my home. The thought terrifies me. Actually, I'm thrilled to be having another girl, I was kind of hoping that it would be a girl anyways, I'm just not looking forward to the teen years.

Ians work took the day off on Friday due to a forecast winter storm that never actually showed up, so we had a nice day together. We took Mary to meet Raven and her youngest at an indoor playground in Sherwood Park. The first time Mary went there she wouldn't release the death grip she had on my finger, but yesterday she started to play after about 10 minutes of finger clinging and shyness. She had a blast, and my favourite part was when she would do something fun, then run and grab Ian and I to share it with us. She's becomming such a neat little person (when she's not having a rage fit), I'm really enjoying watching her grow up. After we left the playground, we all drove off to The Big Mall to have a bite to eat and to find a new bathing suit for Mary. I have bought her last couple of suits at Old Navy, but when we went there yesterday the only ones they had were absurdly sexy bakini's. I guess I must be alone in this, but I really think that sexualizing little girls is gross, not cute. We eventually found a nice red one peice with no sexy parts at all (I actually found a one piece at old navy that had these bizarre triangles outlining where the boobs would be if a 2 year old was a full grown woman. Ick). We also ended up getting ourselves cell phones. Another thing I don't really like, but I've been stressing out more and more lately about what will happen if I go into labour and can't get ahold of Ian, so now that isn't an issue. We got a halfway decent deal on the two phones and our plan is more designed for people who want to phone eachother rather than do a lot of phoning to many different places. Also, my phone is a very pretty pink colour.

The Purgatory game was last night. It went well, with some excitement, though I mostly sat by myself. I'm having a hard time playing a character that is almost universally disliked and whose boyfriend tends to forget that she is a real person and not a figment of his imagination. I enjoy the evil shenanigans that I can get up too in the downtime, as long as I'm careful I can do just about anything without worrying about there being any meaningful punishment (what do you take from a person who has no friends, no status, and no real power or posessions?), but it gets lonely sometimes. I am looking forward to regularly breaking the newest law that was passed.

Anyways, today will be a quiet day, I think. Mary and I are going to watch too much tv and lounge around the house in our pj's. When Ian gets home from work, I'm going to escape the house again to go to a birthday gathering, though I'm awfully tired, so I doubt I'll stay long.

Have a good weekend, and thank you for the nice emails I got after my last post! I don't believe I have responded to any of them yet, but it was nice to hear from you.

Rambling

I haven't really got much to say right now, though I'll try, and I'll likely end up posting more than I intended.

I'm not doing very well emotionally lately, I'm not certain why. I am absolutely certain that if I were to go to a doctor and describe how I've been acting he would happily give me an rx for all sorts of mind altering chemicals regardless of the safety of my baby. I'm not even sure when it started, though I think it might have been with Ians fingers. Last week was rough and I worried a lot about Ian, before realizing that with these fingers of his he cannot do anything to help me around the house. No dishes, no laundry, no changing cat boxes (which I also am not supposed to do), no nothing. Then friday rolled around. A couple of friends were having a birthday celebration which I had been seriously looking forward too all week. Mary ended up being miserable, sick, and unfit for human company, so at the lastish minute, I decided not to go out. Ian had plans for that night too, and he decided that there was no reason for him not to go out. Really there wasn't, but when I started weeping on the couch for no good reason as he was getting ready to go....well, I had hoped he would have decided to keep me company. Instead I spent friday night alone, stuffing myself with granola bars. Thank goodness that was the only sweet/snack food we had in the house at the time.

Saturday wasn't much better. It was a long lonely day as Ian was at work. Crown of Thorns had been cancelled, which was a little sad, but other friends were having their 10th anniversary celebration at the Hotel MacDonald, and we were invited. Ian called me around 2 in the afternoon to tell me that our planned babysitter had called to tell him that they were all sick, and we shouldn't bring Mary over. So. No party or getting out that night either. We did go out for supper to a buffet, but again, Mary was so wild that we were only out of the house for an hour. I went to bed at 8 that night.

Sunday was another miserable day. Mary threw one of her mind bogglingly sudden and uncalled for tantrums first thing in the morning when we were trying to get her dressed so we could go out and do something, and after fighting with her for 30 minutes, we gave up on the idea of getting out of the house. I went back to bed and spent much of the day there, alternately moping, brooding, weeping and sleeping. At one point Ian came to check on me and I said "I think I might be depressed or something." He very quickly agreed.

Monday was a "holiday." Ian worked. I sat at home alone with Mary. Again. The walls of baby jail are closing in. I don't know why. It's possible that it has something to do with the fact that I am in near constant pain with this pregnancy. My pelvis, hips, back, neck, shoulders, knees....every joint in my body aches all the time which makes it hard for me to get up and get out unless I absolutely have too. This baby feels monstrously big, and is very strong. I remember the 2nd trimester being the best part of my last pregnancy, and it terrifies me that things are going to get worse before this baby is born. And then the baby will be born. And I will have a very busy 2 year old and a new born infant. Ian will be working, and I will be alone with them both 6 days a week. If I'm having problems dealing with life right now, how on earth will I handle that?

Mary has also become more challenging lately. The temper tantrums are sudden, unexpected, inexplicable and often violent. Most of the time she's a beautiful, sweet and funny little creature to be around, but she can turn from laughter to screaming rage in literally less than a second. I am absolutely positive that it could be a lot worse, but it's still hard to deal with. Top that with her refusal to speak english unless she is repeating what I say and it's a rough way to live. She's also decided that diaper changes and getting dressed are both torture beyond endurance. My large pregnant belly makes an excellent target for her thrashing feet when she's fighting me on both those points. Mary's also become much more aggressive with Jonah, the little boy that I babysit. Yesterday he did something that made her mad and she threw a rod. He was a little puzzled so he went into another room to play by himself, and she actually chased him down to attempt to beat the crap out of him. I ended up locking her in the bedroom for some calm down time by herself. After a couple of minutes she had chilled out enough that I let her out, and after about 10 minutes of cuddling they had both forgotten the fight, and were playing happily together once again.

In other news, I have learned a lesson in the last couple of days. When you are already emotionally fragile, watching season 3 of Battlestar Galactica (the new ones, of course) is not a wise course of action. Mind you, it does get me bawling, which feels pretty good right now.

Oh, as for good news, I was on the MLS real estate website online the other day just checking things out, and there are only 3 houses listed there in all of Edmonton that are less than 200 thousand dollars, and all three of them have been condemned for one reason or another. That means that we could reasonably ask for 200 thou, and expect to get close to that. We owe just under a hundred thousand on this house now, so we may walk away with close to 100G in our pocket. Theoretically, we could take that money, pay off our debts, move to Saskatchewan and buy a house outright and not have a mortgage to worry about at all. Or we could invest some of that money for university for the kids, and suck up a smallish mortgage in Sask. It's awfully tempting, let me tell you. It would be really nice to be closer to my dad, and even my step-mum. I miss them, and, well, it's a whole lot easier to impose on your parents than on your friends.

Anyways, I did type a whole lot more than I intended, and I do feel better putting all that stuff down. If anyone has any suggesstions on how to drag myself out of this slump that I haven't thought of (yes, I know, healthy eating, getting out of the house, exercise are all good options, except for the fact the most days I can barely walk because of my hips/pelvis). I have absolutely no intention of taking happy pills, so I need to think of something else.

Update

Ian did go to the doctor on Monday night, and was told that he shouldn't work for the next few days. Ian of course argued with him, and the doctor finally folded and said to take Tuesday off and to go to our family doctor.

The first thing that our family Dr. said was "Wow, I'm surprised you didn't loose this finger." Then proceded to get a book to read up on severe frostbite. Ian is now not allowed to work at the lube place at all (too dirty), not allowed to work outside when the temperature is below -10, and he is not allowed to remove his gloves at all while outside. A claim with Workers Comp has been started, and we are waiting to hear from the Dr. on a referral to a Vascular Surgeon. The fingers on his left hand are looking almost normal now save for the giant blisters, but his right hand is a different story, particularly the middle finger. They're still pretty badly discoloured and swollen, and I'm quite worried about them. I imagine he will go back to work tomorrow, the temperature is supposed to get up above freezing, hopefully he won't make things worse.

Not much else is going on around here. Mary's doing well, the cats are good, I'm okay but worried. February has always been a bad month for us, Ians dad died in Feb, my boss and friend died in Feb, last year Ian was out of town for the whole month....this February seems to be following the theme.

In Search of Mutton

I was going to go out tonight. I had everything figured out, I was even planning on taking a very tired Mary along with me and putting her down in Raven's playpen. Then I saw Ian pull up and park out front, so I figured, yay! Ian can watch Mary, and I don't need to bring her. So, I told the softly sobbing child that yes, she could go to bed, which she did, and promptly fell asleep. Ian came in looking sheepish, and proceded to tell me that his fingers got a little cold at work today. I said "How cold, darling husband of mine?" He went into a lengthy tale of coldness at work, and finished up by showing me his fingers. His black tipped fingers. I said "Oh, you poor poor thing, what a terrible thing to happen to an intelligent man like you! Perhaps you ought to go to the doctor, though I shall of course leave it to your discression, darling husband." Then I phoned Raven, and explained the situation to her, suggesting that as a nurse, she may have some idea of whether or not black fingertips are something to be concerned about. She suggested that Ian go to the doctor, perhaps this morning when he first froze his fingers. By this point, my darling wee napless child was fast asleep, so I had to beg off going out tonight, which is too bad, but life with a child and husband.

So, I really want to make Scotch Broth. I enjoy making and eating soup, it is one of the few things that I am good at cooking. Unfortunately though, Scotch Broth requires mutton. Good luck finding that in this bloody city! I phone several butchers, and the most helpful thing I was told was that "we don't have mutton, but we have smoked mackeral." Um. Okay. Am I crazy in thinking that mutton is something that a person working in/as a butcher should know about? I mean, even if you don't carry it, you really ought to know that mutton is sheep, not fish. Sigh. I think I will try some of the Halal butchers next, if they don't carry mutton, perhaps I can try making my soup with goat. It's really too bad, I love the strong and gamey flavour that mutton has, but I suspect I'll have to go without.

My weekend went quite well. Friday Raven introduced Mary and I to the wonders of the indoor playground at Milennium place. Mary didn't stray far from my side or actually play on anything much, but we were there for an hour and a half and she seemed to have lots of fun dragging me around to look at all the other kids. Friday night Ian and I stayed in, cuddled on the couch and watched comedy shows on CBC. Saturday night some of my fabulous friends put on a Burlesque show. A few of the girls in our crowd discovered pole dancing a while back, and they are all good enough at it now that they were able to put together a fantastic routine. It was great fun, the food was fantastic, and I was reminded of all the reasons that I don't want to move back to Saskatchewan. I took a few pole dancing classes myself before I got pregnant, and I'm quite determined that if we are still in Edmonton come fall, I'm going to start up again. I really need to loose weight and get healthy, which is quite a chore when you despise excercise. Pole dancing is hard work and tonnes of fun, and it may even teach me to be a bit sexier (or at least feel sexier) too!

Not Surprised

Didja hear? Anna Nicole Smith died today. She was pronounced dead at the hospital after being found unconscious in her hotel room. For some reason, this news does not surprise me, I think she has been trying to die for an awfully long time now.

Google is my midnight lover.

Wow, is it already Thursday? Where has the week gone? Between the screaming tantrums and the adorableness, time has flown by.

Let's see if I can remember highlites of the week. Hmm. Saturday was T's Kingdom Come game, which was lovely and angsty as usual. My characters evil lover had shown up for the first time in a long time, so I spent a lot of time alternately joyful that he was there and despising myself for loving such an evil evil man. After the game we all went to BP's to hang out, and I got to go too (I really do have an excellent husband). My favourite moment was when we were sitting at a table waiting for our meals, and T and I got to talking about the lack of women in our group of friends who are willing to get pregnant. T carried on the conversation by saying, and I quote, "The problem with the world is that only the really stupid people are breeding, all the smart women don't get pregnant." As soon as the words popped out of his mouth he turned red, and looked, well, defeated. I just sat there smirking and rubbing my very pregnant belly. It's a good thing I'm not sensitive...

Sunday was the Superbowl, which we watched over at G & K's place. It was an intensely boring football game, but the halftime show was pretty great. Prince! He sang, and danced, and talked, and played his oh so phallic guitar. There was one point where he was playing a guitar shaped like his symbol from behind a sheet that was all backlit and stuff, and I couldn't help snorting with laughter at the image. I was really quite surprised that the American puritans didn't make more of a fuss about it. Of course, I could just have a dirty mind.

Hmm. Monday was a Very Bad Day. Mary's language issues are becomming more and more dificult and frustrating for the both of us. She spent a couple of hours in the afternoon alternately screaming with rage and sobbing pathetically. She wanted something from me, but I couldn't figure out what it was. By time Ian got home, I was empathizing with women who shake their babies and was close to tears myself. The Raven rescued me by taking me out for tea at Timmies.

Tuesday was D&D. Yay! It was the first session in a new campaign that Ian is running, and it looks to be quite fun. We didn't do much because T was unable to attend, but so far so good. We have two very dour boys, a dwarf and an ugly elf, and K and I are playing a pair of much more joyful girls, a gnome (K's character) and a beautiful elf. It will be interesting to see how T's human fits into the mix.

Wednesday was yesterday, right? Let me think. Another day full of communication issues and temper tantrums (really the tantrums arent that bad, and she really makes up for it by the adorableness that comes before and after the fits). Ian is working in Camrose now, so I had no idea when he would be home, but was geared up not to see him till quite late. I ended up taking Mary to Ravens place, as it was my night to babysit her kids, but instead her husband watched Mary so that R and I could go meet Guy Gavriel Kay! Yay! It was very exciting for me, I've read all of his books except for the newest one many many times....so many times that they are all falling apart. I was really quite impressed by him. Kay is just a little man, kinda geeky looking and he talks like the priest from "The Princess Bride." It must take a whole lot of nerve for him to get up and talk to crowds of people and read from his books, but he did admirably, was very friendly when I met him to sign my book, and seemed like a generally neat kinda guy who can write a fantastic book. Also, I got my first good look at Simon of Simian Farmer fame (I link to his blog on the side). I was standing right behind him in line to get my book signed, and I knew that I recognized him from somewhere, though I didn't realize who he was till he was talking to Guy Kay. I nearly said hello, but was overcome with such a crippling wave of shyness I had to go hide as far away as I could. I mean, Simon is so cool, one of the big kids really, I knew that I would just stammer and blush, possibly giggle like a teenager and generally make an ass of mysellf.

And that brings us to today. This morning has so far been very pleasant. Mary and I got up early (at 9, aren't I lucky to have a child who likes to sleep in?), ate our breakfast and headed out to Sherwood Park to meet up with Raven and her brood. We went to an indoor playground. It was extremely crowded, but lots of fun, and we lasted about an hour before we needed to go. Mary didn't really play, she just dragged me around and looked at all the kids. She's terribly shy around other children, but I think that next time she may wander a little farther from my side. On the way home we stopped at Starbucks for a Chai latte and a snack, and now she is "napping" in her bedroom with all her stuffed animals. I shall sit quietly and start my new book while thinking about how I ought to be doing laundry or dishes.

An opinion piece

I really don't know why I read/watch the news and other sources of information. I find that I am constantly disappointed by humanity in general these days. It would be much easier if I could just sit in my bedroom and continue believing the best of people without exposing myself to proof that I'm wrong.

Take the town of Hérouxville in Quebec. The city council just passed a "Code of Conduct for Immigrants." Among the, ahem, guidelines for immigrants are a law forbidding women from veiling their faces in schools, a ban on female circumcision (perhaps not such a bad thing, but really, is it that common a problem in Quebec?), and an in depth explaination of the Christmas tree. Several other towns in the Trois-Rivières region of Quebec want to introduce similar guides. What really gets me is they are claiming that this code is a way of accomodating immigrants. You can read a short article on the matter here -http://www.cbc.ca/canada/montreal/story/2007/02/02/qc-reasonableaccommodation20070202.html (sorry, for some reason Blogger isn't giving me the link option today, and I can't remember the HTML for doing it myself right now).

I've been trying to avoid the issue of the sextuplets in B.C. that were born a couple of months ago to a Jehovas Witness family. The babies were born at 25 weeks gestation, which for those of you who don't know, is incredibly premature, right on the line of survive/don't survive. Two of the babies have already died, and this week the B.C. government seized 3 of the living babies from the family to administer blood transfusions, something that J.W.'s are very much against. The storm of controversy about this move is really quite dizzying. I have a hard time with it, on one hand, I do think that the government did what was right to save those babies, but then again, where does it stop? If the government can seize children and force medical treatment that their parents refuse, well, I can't help but think that sets a relatively dangerous precident for all sorts of things. Anyways, the issue has all sorts crawling out of the woodwork to voice their opinioins, from the anti-abortion folk to the pro-abortion, anti-religion, anti-IVF people, people who pretend to know what theyre talking about, people who think that the family should be left alone, people who think the babies should be taken away from the family for good, people who have no idea what's really going on (but of course have very strong opinions anyways). Not one person that I've read have had anything nice to say about anyone else, or the ability to see other points of view than their own.

Then there is the issue that is going on here in Edmonton, with the foster mother who has been charged with the murder of a three year old foster child. It just happened last weekend, and the moment the news broke, it was like the poor woman was already tried and convicted in the mind of the media and the public. I don't know the whole story, and I doubt I ever will, but I can't help but feel for this woman. Who knows what really happened? One story is that the seriously disturbed child threw a fit, and smashed his own head against the floor with the force of his rage, thus doing the damage himself. I don't know how likely this is, but it seems a possibility to me. Of course, because of this, other foster parents in Alberta, and the entire system itself are being ripped to shreds daily in the media. I've seen the hard work that foster parents do for these kids, most of whom are damaged in some way, either physically or emotionally, and it takes a special kind of person to deal with the issues that go on with it. Even the best parent in my experience has a hard time dealing with the best of babies (I had fantasies of putting Mary in a snowbank when she was a newborn), I can't imagine how much that must be amplified after spending a long day with a child (or more than one) who has severe fetal alcohol spectrum disorder. If the woman did kill that little boy, well, it doesn't excuse what she did, but I really do think that at the very least people could try to feel for her a little bit. I don't believe she's a monster, and I'm not prepared to condemn her, or any other foster parent. What drives me craziest is that the boys biological father has issued a long statement about how the system failed his child and blah blah blah, and oh yeah, and he intends to sue the government. I just have to say that children don't often end up in the foster care system for no reason, so maybe people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, eh?

Anyways, Mary is begging for a nap (she slept through the night last night! YAY!), so I had better go deal with that.

We are not impressed

So, since Sunday night (monday morning, really) Mary has started waking up at the wee hours of the morning and partying for a while. This can happen anywhere between midnight and 2 am, and will last from 1 to 3 hours. Um. What the hell? She did this before when she was sick, but she seems to be fine these days, if a little sniffly. It's not like she wakes up and cries, oh no, she gets up, chats to herself for a while, jumps out of the bed onto the hardwood floor, shrieks in joy, jumps harder on the floor, shrieks again, lays on her back and pounds her heels on the wall....I can't take much more of it. I'm having a hard time sleeping these days, what with all the complaints that go along with being 5 months pregnant, and this is just ridiculous.

We had to take away one of the toys that was in Marys room yesterday. She was given a beautiful old doll crib that belonged to a friend of ours when she was a child. This friend was thrilled when we had a girl, she has only boys in her family and was delighted to have someone to give all her old dolls and girlie toys too. Anyways, we had it in Marys room, and yesterday at naptime Mary decided to dismantle it and then beat the crap out of herself with it. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but all was quiet, when suddenly there was a "thump, crash, WAIL" from Marys room. Ian and I both ran in (he was home from work due to weather) and Mary was on the floor, surrounded by pokey wooden things, and bleeding from her cheek and nose. She has a cut on the bridge of her nose, and a big scrape on her cheek, it looks like we beat her on a regular basis.

Poor Ian has to work today, outside. The high (with windchill) is forcast at -29, and they are working out in a place called Nisku, in the middle of an empty field. Nice. I'm not thrilled with him either though. This morning I asked him to put a brush in the van before going to work, because it dumped a tonne of snow on us yesterday and last night. He took my keys to do it because his were already in the car warming it up. No biggie, right? Except as soon as he tossed the brush in the van, he hopped into the car and buggered off to Nisku. With my keys. I'm supposed to be babysitting so that N can go to a prenatal Dr.'s appt in, oh, 30 minutes. I of course burst into hysterical tears (bloody hormones and lack of sleep do not make for a rational Jennifer), calmed myself, and called Ian's boss on his cell. The boss was nice enough, though he did laugh at me, and he promised to get Ian to call as soon as he saw him. Of course they're working in freaking Nisku, and it snowed a tonne last night, so I have my doubts Ian'll be there any time soon. I called N, and thankfully she is feeling like hell due to a bad cold, and doesn't have a problem rescheduling her appointment. I still feel horrible for cancelling on her at the last minute though, not to mention the fact that I'm awake, and have been since 6:30 this morning. Mary is of course fast asleep on the couch, damn her. She needs her rest, she partied all night long.