Frances is still sick. Still. It's now been three weeks since she first got ill, and there is no sign of it getting better any time soon. I spent my day yesterday trying to get advice from some sort of medical professional. I know exactly what the doctor will say if I bring her in - she's got a virus, nothing they can do, these are the signs of dehydration, if she shows any of them bring her back. I KNOW all this. What I want is for someone to tell me how long is it safe to give her gravol so she doesn't barf all over everything (which she does if she doesn't get gravol twice a day)? How long can I give her pedialyte? What can I do for the brutal diaper rash? How long can I expect this to continue? What the HELL? How long does this have to go on before we are concerned about more than just dehydration? WHAT THE HELL? How do I keep sane when my days are filled with diarrhea all over everything, miserable sobbing baby, more diarrhea, vomit, and more misery? HOW DO I STOP FROM LOOSING MY MIND??? Ahem. But no one will tell me anything other than take her to the doctor. I am unwilling to spend the obscene amount of money it now takes to put gas in the van to take Frances to a doctor who will just tell me what I already know. Why can no one help me? I spend my days vacillating between tears and rage, with a little despair thrown in just to make things fun.
Anyways. A friend is coming down from Saskatoon tomorrow, and I was supposed to meet him at another persons house who I don't know but would really like to know. Unfortunately I can't now. I am doomed to a friendless, diarrhea filled small town life. Loneliness, sick children and Ian will be my only companions. I feel sorry for myself, can you tell?
Friday, May 30, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
The Arts
Ian had to get up early for work this morning, around 6:30 or so. Apparently Mary got up at the same time. Ian decided to be nice, he let me sleep and while he was getting ready he fed Mary and changed her bum. Then he left for work. Without letting me know that Mary was up and about. A couple of hours later Mary came into my room bearing a glass of water just for me (she can get to the water cooler and use it all by herself now. Yay. Isn't that super?). I told her I was getting up, but she patted my hand, tried to tuck me in and told me to sleep. At this point I got suspicious. I got even more suspicious when I spotted the green permanent marker all over her face and hands. Swallowing my dread, I got up and stumbled to the kitchen. The fridge was wide open, a chair in front of it. An apple was half eaten, as were several cookies. My hutch, my beautiful natural wood finish hutch was COVERED in green sharpie ink. I flipped. I yelled, and then I realized that I was very close to beating the small child cowering in front of me, so I picked her up and put her (locked her) in her room so I could calm down and do some damage control. There is nothing to be done for the wood, the ink won't come out. Ian thinks that he can sand it, but I'm not so sure. I've recovered from my anger, but I still see a little red when I look at the green ink. Mary spent an hour and a half in her room, I told her she could come out when she apologized to me, and it took her that long to decide she was sorrier than she was stubborn.
She also had a raging temper tantrum at lunch today. She refuses to eat anything she considers baby food, which is pretty much anything that Frances eats. Now that Frances has graduated to finger foods, Mary's list of acceptable foods (always small) is shrinking. Today I made noodles, but because Frances was eating them, Mary freaked and refused to eat "baby foods." Needless to say the screaming went on for over an hour, and Fran was happy (though somewhat bemused by the carry on) to eat all her noodles and some of Mary's.
I love being a parent. Really. I do.
She also had a raging temper tantrum at lunch today. She refuses to eat anything she considers baby food, which is pretty much anything that Frances eats. Now that Frances has graduated to finger foods, Mary's list of acceptable foods (always small) is shrinking. Today I made noodles, but because Frances was eating them, Mary freaked and refused to eat "baby foods." Needless to say the screaming went on for over an hour, and Fran was happy (though somewhat bemused by the carry on) to eat all her noodles and some of Mary's.
I love being a parent. Really. I do.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
From Away
Can someone please tell me what exactly I need to do to have the people in this stupid town include me and my children? Please? I'm relatively sure they aren't doing these things intentionally, but man I'm getting pissed off.
It started with play school, do you remember that? I went to the meeting, told them about Mary, gave them my phone number and said that I would be bringing Mary the very next class. I showed up, and no one was there, I showed up the next class, no one was there. It turned out that the teacher was ill and they forgot to phone me. She was very sick and they weren't sure when she would be back, so I asked them to call me when she was so I could take Mary. Months later I ran into one of the ladies and she mentioned how they were all sorry I decided not to bring Mary to preschool. Excuse me? So I asked, surprised, if the teacher was well. Oh yeah, she had started back less than a week after I had spoken to the mother in charge of everything, and no one bothered to phone me. I was annoyed.
Two, maybe three weeks ago, I called the contact about soccer, I wanted to get Mary involved. The woman I spoke too said that they weren't sure that they would even be having soccer this year, they didn't have enough people willing to help out. I said I would be happy to help out if they needed me. The woman took my number and said that I should expect a call. I asked her to call me even if they didn't need my help and soccer was going to happen. She promised to pass my name and number along to the phone person, but if I didn't get a call that meant that soccer wouldn't be happening this spring. I didn't get a call so I assumed that they didn't have enough helpers and that it wasn't going to happen. Then, today, I go to the Co-op to pick up some milk and there is a sign that soccer is starting on the 21st (last night!). The sign wasn't up on Saturday when I was there last, and not a soul called me.
What the hell?? Is it because I am From Away? Most people have been friendly, if not terribly welcoming, but seriously. All I want is for my child to get involved in things around here, to be able to play soccer, go to play school, make some friends, I don't particularly care if they include me or not. That's a lie, I would like to have some friends, to be able to get out of the house without forcing myself on people, but that seems more and more unlikely as time passes. The play helped a bit, but I've not socialized with anyone from the play since it ended, aside from saying hello when we bump into each other in the street. I'm lonely, and Mary is lonely, and I don't know what to do to make it better.
I knew moving to a small town would be tough, but I had no idea that people would be this...well...unfriendly.
It started with play school, do you remember that? I went to the meeting, told them about Mary, gave them my phone number and said that I would be bringing Mary the very next class. I showed up, and no one was there, I showed up the next class, no one was there. It turned out that the teacher was ill and they forgot to phone me. She was very sick and they weren't sure when she would be back, so I asked them to call me when she was so I could take Mary. Months later I ran into one of the ladies and she mentioned how they were all sorry I decided not to bring Mary to preschool. Excuse me? So I asked, surprised, if the teacher was well. Oh yeah, she had started back less than a week after I had spoken to the mother in charge of everything, and no one bothered to phone me. I was annoyed.
Two, maybe three weeks ago, I called the contact about soccer, I wanted to get Mary involved. The woman I spoke too said that they weren't sure that they would even be having soccer this year, they didn't have enough people willing to help out. I said I would be happy to help out if they needed me. The woman took my number and said that I should expect a call. I asked her to call me even if they didn't need my help and soccer was going to happen. She promised to pass my name and number along to the phone person, but if I didn't get a call that meant that soccer wouldn't be happening this spring. I didn't get a call so I assumed that they didn't have enough helpers and that it wasn't going to happen. Then, today, I go to the Co-op to pick up some milk and there is a sign that soccer is starting on the 21st (last night!). The sign wasn't up on Saturday when I was there last, and not a soul called me.
What the hell?? Is it because I am From Away? Most people have been friendly, if not terribly welcoming, but seriously. All I want is for my child to get involved in things around here, to be able to play soccer, go to play school, make some friends, I don't particularly care if they include me or not. That's a lie, I would like to have some friends, to be able to get out of the house without forcing myself on people, but that seems more and more unlikely as time passes. The play helped a bit, but I've not socialized with anyone from the play since it ended, aside from saying hello when we bump into each other in the street. I'm lonely, and Mary is lonely, and I don't know what to do to make it better.
I knew moving to a small town would be tough, but I had no idea that people would be this...well...unfriendly.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Let it end
So. Frances is better. Like, 100 percent better. She is happiest sitting in her highchair shoveling cheerio's and chopped up banana's into her mouth. It's all good.
Mary....well, Mary is not so good. The liquid explosiveness started in earnest yesterday. This morning she barfed prodigiously on the couch. I should have known. Actually I did know. She was laying listlessly on the couch, and suddenly she sat up. I looked at her, narrowed my eyes and said "Mary, honey, do you need to throw up?" She looked at me, whimpered, and exploded. After she was done she looked at the mess in alarm and said "Oh dear. Oh no. Oh dear, Mama, I sorry." Ugh. I much prefer baby puke to toddler puke. Finally, something I prefer about babies. She seems to be feeling a bit better now, though she is still pale and sad looking. So, there is no end in sight, I am trapped in a house that smells of diarrhea and vomit, it's beautiful and sunny outside on this long weekend, and I'm not enjoying the weather, or getting any yard work done. Ian has escaped to work, and I have never envied his job more than I do today.
Mary....well, Mary is not so good. The liquid explosiveness started in earnest yesterday. This morning she barfed prodigiously on the couch. I should have known. Actually I did know. She was laying listlessly on the couch, and suddenly she sat up. I looked at her, narrowed my eyes and said "Mary, honey, do you need to throw up?" She looked at me, whimpered, and exploded. After she was done she looked at the mess in alarm and said "Oh dear. Oh no. Oh dear, Mama, I sorry." Ugh. I much prefer baby puke to toddler puke. Finally, something I prefer about babies. She seems to be feeling a bit better now, though she is still pale and sad looking. So, there is no end in sight, I am trapped in a house that smells of diarrhea and vomit, it's beautiful and sunny outside on this long weekend, and I'm not enjoying the weather, or getting any yard work done. Ian has escaped to work, and I have never envied his job more than I do today.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Hell Week
Yeesh. The last several days have been pretty awful to say the least. Here's the synopsis.
Friday
Starts as a day like any other. Halfway through the day Frances offers up a...surprise...in her diaper. I think "Hmm. I wonder if she's finally teething." I deal with two or three more surprises (which are rapidly becoming less surprising) and carry on with life. She's still cheerful and playing, so I don't worry too much.
Saturday
The day starts with an overflowing diaper. Frances is still cheerful, but not all that interested in solid foods. That's okay, she's sick, so I just give her bottles. Late at night after the diarrhea turns her bottom into hamburger (diaper rash is no fun) I decide to phone the 1-800-dial-a-nurse number. The nurse suggests I take her to the doctor. It's late at night and Fran is sleeping peacefully, so we put it off till morning.
Sunday Morning
We get up to yet another overflowing diaper, and I hop into the van and take her to the city to see a Doctor at the medicentre. While in the waiting room Frances wiggles, laughs, flirts and is generally adorable. She flirts with the Doctor and happily goes to his arms when he picks her up. He says we have nothing to worry about, she's still socializing, drinking her formula and well hydrated. Go home, don't worry. So, I do that.
Sunday Afternoon
The diarrhea gets worse, every hour, in fact. She stops eating, she stops smiling. At 5:30 or so we get her to drink some formula which she fountains all over Ian. I call my dad and step-mum. Michael has successfully raised three of these little buggers without killing any, so I figure she might have some good advice. The two of them hop in the car, pick up some pedialyte (which we cannot get here in Milestone) and head out to visit us. Michael manages to get Frances to drink a couple of ounces of pedialyte while Mary drags my Dad around the house showing him things. ("Look Grandpa! The kitchen! A fridge! The stove, careful, hot! Come with me. The TABLE! My CHAIR! Baby's chair! Come with me. The LIVING ROOOOM! COUCHES!")
That night I manage to get a couple ounces more of the pedialyte into Frances at about 10:30. When she wakes up at 3 AM, she refuses to drink any at all. We try some formula just to get something into her, and she barfs all over poor Ian again.
Monday
We wake up. Frances does not. I go into her room to find her white as a ghost and rag-doll limp. I worry. I stress. I try to get her to drink something. She refuses. I call the 1-800-Nurses number again, and the nurse suggests I take her to the hospital, like, NOW. So I do. I spend monday in the hospital while she gets fluids via IV. It is unpleasant, but not as bad as it could be. She is so sick that she doesn't even cry while they poke her in several places to get the IV in. By the end of the day she is drinking pedialyte on her own and keeping it down, so we are discharged.
Tuesday
A good day. Frances is miserable, but feeling well enough to let me know exactly how miserable she is, which is a good thing. She drinks a lot of pedialyte without vomiting, she only has 3 episodes of diarrhea all day long. I give her some formula before bed, for which she is pathetically grateful. She doesn't vomit. She sleeps well, even though I do not. She must be on the mend, right?
Today
Not so good. Leaky diarrhea diaper first thing in the morning. Two more bouts of diarrhea in 2 hours. Vomiting. Refusing to drink pedialyte. Now Mary is complaining of not feeling well and refusing to leave my bed. I have gravol suppositories for Frances, but have you ever tried to shove something up a struggling babies bum all by yourself with no helper to pin said baby down? It's a beautiful, warm, sunny day outside already, but I'm stuck inside a house which smell vaguely of diarrhea and vomit with two sick children. Motherhood rocks. Frances is sleeping right now, thank God, but she'll be up soon, and it'll start over again.
Pray for me, my friends, that I might once again see the light of day without looking through a haze of germs and puke.
Friday
Starts as a day like any other. Halfway through the day Frances offers up a...surprise...in her diaper. I think "Hmm. I wonder if she's finally teething." I deal with two or three more surprises (which are rapidly becoming less surprising) and carry on with life. She's still cheerful and playing, so I don't worry too much.
Saturday
The day starts with an overflowing diaper. Frances is still cheerful, but not all that interested in solid foods. That's okay, she's sick, so I just give her bottles. Late at night after the diarrhea turns her bottom into hamburger (diaper rash is no fun) I decide to phone the 1-800-dial-a-nurse number. The nurse suggests I take her to the doctor. It's late at night and Fran is sleeping peacefully, so we put it off till morning.
Sunday Morning
We get up to yet another overflowing diaper, and I hop into the van and take her to the city to see a Doctor at the medicentre. While in the waiting room Frances wiggles, laughs, flirts and is generally adorable. She flirts with the Doctor and happily goes to his arms when he picks her up. He says we have nothing to worry about, she's still socializing, drinking her formula and well hydrated. Go home, don't worry. So, I do that.
Sunday Afternoon
The diarrhea gets worse, every hour, in fact. She stops eating, she stops smiling. At 5:30 or so we get her to drink some formula which she fountains all over Ian. I call my dad and step-mum. Michael has successfully raised three of these little buggers without killing any, so I figure she might have some good advice. The two of them hop in the car, pick up some pedialyte (which we cannot get here in Milestone) and head out to visit us. Michael manages to get Frances to drink a couple of ounces of pedialyte while Mary drags my Dad around the house showing him things. ("Look Grandpa! The kitchen! A fridge! The stove, careful, hot! Come with me. The TABLE! My CHAIR! Baby's chair! Come with me. The LIVING ROOOOM! COUCHES!")
That night I manage to get a couple ounces more of the pedialyte into Frances at about 10:30. When she wakes up at 3 AM, she refuses to drink any at all. We try some formula just to get something into her, and she barfs all over poor Ian again.
Monday
We wake up. Frances does not. I go into her room to find her white as a ghost and rag-doll limp. I worry. I stress. I try to get her to drink something. She refuses. I call the 1-800-Nurses number again, and the nurse suggests I take her to the hospital, like, NOW. So I do. I spend monday in the hospital while she gets fluids via IV. It is unpleasant, but not as bad as it could be. She is so sick that she doesn't even cry while they poke her in several places to get the IV in. By the end of the day she is drinking pedialyte on her own and keeping it down, so we are discharged.
Tuesday
A good day. Frances is miserable, but feeling well enough to let me know exactly how miserable she is, which is a good thing. She drinks a lot of pedialyte without vomiting, she only has 3 episodes of diarrhea all day long. I give her some formula before bed, for which she is pathetically grateful. She doesn't vomit. She sleeps well, even though I do not. She must be on the mend, right?
Today
Not so good. Leaky diarrhea diaper first thing in the morning. Two more bouts of diarrhea in 2 hours. Vomiting. Refusing to drink pedialyte. Now Mary is complaining of not feeling well and refusing to leave my bed. I have gravol suppositories for Frances, but have you ever tried to shove something up a struggling babies bum all by yourself with no helper to pin said baby down? It's a beautiful, warm, sunny day outside already, but I'm stuck inside a house which smell vaguely of diarrhea and vomit with two sick children. Motherhood rocks. Frances is sleeping right now, thank God, but she'll be up soon, and it'll start over again.
Pray for me, my friends, that I might once again see the light of day without looking through a haze of germs and puke.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
He's a Wanderin' Man
Wesley came home! It's amazing, I had completely given up hope and accepted that he wouldn't be back, and here he is! Yesterday afternoon I wandered through the living room and glanced out the window. There was a cat across the street drinking out of a puddle and I asked Ian if it looked familiar. "That isn't Wesley," he said. I was already out the door, and lo and behold, it was Wesley! I had to corner him in a neighbors garage to catch him, but as soon as I picked him up he started purring and cuddling. The other cats were a little puzzled to have him back and they spent most of the rest of the day with their noses shoved up his bum, but Mary was thrilled to have him back. She kept talking about him and petting him, and it was the first thing she said to my Mum on the phone. I'm taking him to the vet on Thursday just to get him checked out, but he seems to be fine, if a little scrawny (and amazingly muscular). What a guy.
Hey, you should read this, it's awfully neat. The letter from Charles Manson is bizarre and kinda creepy in a non-sensical sort of way.
Hey, you should read this, it's awfully neat. The letter from Charles Manson is bizarre and kinda creepy in a non-sensical sort of way.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Stupid Old Men
So, did I mention that no matter how old people are, they still seem to enjoy indulging in "DRAMA!"? I am so glad the whole dinner theatre is done, mostly because of the "DRAMA!" and not having to deal with it any more. As most of you may know, in small towns there are giant cliques, and it is next to impossible to penetrate the clique. Oh, they're friendly and nice enough, but you know, you just know, that no matter how nice they are, you'll never, ever actually be considered one of them. I had forgotten that fact, stupid me, until it was brought back with bone crushing force on Saturday evening. You see, I have spent a great deal of time with these people for the last several months. I've gotten to know them, they've gotten to know me. Yes, there are a few people who I don't particularly like, but no matter where you go there will be people who rub you the wrong way, and I'm rather certain that the feeling is mutual. Anyways. Saturday night, about half way through the first act, I made the mistake of glancing up at the sound booth. Now, this is something that I have been warned about from the very beginning. If you look up there, expect to have the old guys who do lights and sound try to screw you up. Anyways, I looked up there and one of the guys was up on his feet, waving his arms around. I panicked, just for a moment. What was wrong? What was he trying to tell me? Was my fly undone? Was my boob hanging out? What was it? I quickly realized that he was just screwing with me and I carried on, chuckling internally and feeling sheepish for being caught by them. At intermission I was sharing the story with a couple other young newcomers who have become fast friends of mine. I started my story with the sentence "Those stupid old men up in the sound booth caught me..." I tried to continue, but someone sharply interrupted - "What did you just say??" I repeated myself, grinning good naturedly. I was rudely told "One of those men is Bernadette's husband, you know!" I replied, slowly, confused "yes, I know that...anyways...I accidentally looked up there and they were really screwing with me today..." Once again I was cut off. "I know for a fact that you can't see anything up there when you're on stage!" Shouts Bernadette. I blink, appalled that she's actually angry with me. I try to explain "but...you can...and they were waving..." I stammer. Yet again, I get cut off as Bernadette storms out of the room and Shannon gets in my face "Just drop it!" and follows Bernadette. Patty follows the two of them, but storms back in the room a few seconds later to find me with my mouth wide open, completely stunned. "Drop it right now, Jennifer!" she shouts in my face and storms back out. At this point I am practically in tears. I didn't think I was being offensive at all, especially as these people know I call my children "miserable little wretches", I call my husband an asshole, I call the director a crazy old lady right to her face and everyone laughs. My friends are stunned too. At one point I can feel my face doing that thing that Mary's face does when she's trying not to cry, but I manage to pull myself together before going on stage for Act 2. The next night, Bernadette and Patty refuse to be in the same room as me, and Bernadette's husband, who I actually like quite a bit, does our pre-show ritual with everyone in the room but me. Did I mention that Bernadette is in her early sixties, as is Patty? So, I've moved on, but I sure don't feel all that welcome anymore. I'm still a little stunned by the whole thing. I tried to explain that I didn't mean to be rude or hurtful, that I actually like Joe and Barry, but no luck. Anyways, that's not the only thing that has gone on, especially with Patty and Bernadette, but it's the biggest and most upsetting. Maybe I'm crazy, I'll accept that maybe I went over a line, but I also feel that the reaction to what I was saying and the refusal to accept any explanation or apology is a tad of on overreaction, you know?
Phew. That was a long paragraph, hope you managed to stick through it with me.
In other news. Yay to the union in South Africa that is refusing to unload guns, ammo and grenade launchers bound from China to Zimbabwe and the hands of Mr. Mugabe!
Boo to Avent, whose bottles I've been using for Frannie because I thought they were safe, but turn out to be the worst culprits for leeching BPA into baby formula. Stupid (and I call myself stupid affectionately and respectfully, so please, don't get all offended. Just Drop it, okay!) me for thinking that because they were expensive that meant they were safe. I guess they're going to be sorry now that their bottles have been banned by the Canadian government. I suppose I should switch to glass, but I can't help but think the damage has already been done in the last 10 months of drinking from the bottles.
Hurrah for giving up on potty training and accepting the fact that Mary'll be in diapers when she's 13 years old.
Phew. That was a long paragraph, hope you managed to stick through it with me.
In other news. Yay to the union in South Africa that is refusing to unload guns, ammo and grenade launchers bound from China to Zimbabwe and the hands of Mr. Mugabe!
Boo to Avent, whose bottles I've been using for Frannie because I thought they were safe, but turn out to be the worst culprits for leeching BPA into baby formula. Stupid (and I call myself stupid affectionately and respectfully, so please, don't get all offended. Just Drop it, okay!) me for thinking that because they were expensive that meant they were safe. I guess they're going to be sorry now that their bottles have been banned by the Canadian government. I suppose I should switch to glass, but I can't help but think the damage has already been done in the last 10 months of drinking from the bottles.
Hurrah for giving up on potty training and accepting the fact that Mary'll be in diapers when she's 13 years old.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Golden Showers
I'm livid. Absolutely seeing red angry. Mary had to go to bed early because I could barely stand to look at her, I'm so angry with her. I have been trying a new tact to get her potty trained. I bought a seat that goes on the actual toilet, I bought a bunch of really pretty little stickers, I put up a chart beside the toilet. I've been gabbing non stop about the wonderful stickers she will get if she does something - ANYTHING, on the potty. Tonight while I was bathing Frances Mary sat on the potty for about 15 minutes. Of course nothing happened, and she announced she was all done. I asked her if she was sure, she said yes, and I let her go while I got Fran out of the tub. Mary was naked at this point as she was next for the bath. Not ten minutes, TEN MINUTES, after she got out of the tub, she pissed about a gallon all over the hallway floor. I honest to Christ don't know what to do with her. I know, I know, everyone says it'll happen when it happens. I KNOW. But it isn't happening. She's over three years old. She has no interest what so ever in using the toilet no matter what I do. I yelled at her tonight, I called her a bad girl, I feel like a terrible mother but I am literally at the end of my rope. At this rate Frances will be potty trained before Mary is. Is there something wrong with my child? Is there something wrong with me? She can't go to preschool without being potty trained. I can't trust her to go even 30 minutes without shitting herself, let alone 2 hours twice a week.
On a positive note, the string is gone. It passed naturally Saturday evening.
The play is finished too, thank God. It amazes me that women in their 60's can act so bloody immature. Yes, there's a story behind that statement, and I'll share it later on, suffice it to say, I've managed to make an enemy or two in this wee town of Milestone. Yay for me.
To end happily - here are some pictures of Frannie Lou. In the first she is enjoying my birthday cake, can you spot her two teeth? In the second she is enjoying our NEW WINDOWS! Yay!
On a positive note, the string is gone. It passed naturally Saturday evening.
The play is finished too, thank God. It amazes me that women in their 60's can act so bloody immature. Yes, there's a story behind that statement, and I'll share it later on, suffice it to say, I've managed to make an enemy or two in this wee town of Milestone. Yay for me.
To end happily - here are some pictures of Frannie Lou. In the first she is enjoying my birthday cake, can you spot her two teeth? In the second she is enjoying our NEW WINDOWS! Yay!
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Oh Momentous Day
It's my birthday! Whee.
Mary ate string. It is half out, half in. I've seen the effects of eating string on a cat first hand. I am concerned.
Only two performances left to go!
I intend to drink a little more than necessary after the performance tonight.
Must go eat toast now.
Mary ate string. It is half out, half in. I've seen the effects of eating string on a cat first hand. I am concerned.
Only two performances left to go!
I intend to drink a little more than necessary after the performance tonight.
Must go eat toast now.
Friday, April 04, 2008
1 down, 7 to go
Last night was our first performance that really counted. The first evening of dinner theatre. It went SO well! I was amazed, especially after that terrible performance in North Battleford. I had fun, something which was definitely missing in N.B. The audience was amazing, they laughed and were clearly enjoying themselves and the play. It makes things so much easier when you have a good audience to feed from. Oh! And the food! Good God, it was incredible. They bbq'd roast beef for the main course, the whole town smelled heavenly. The salads were fantastic, and the desserts were amazing. The whole town contributes to the meal, every house in the phone book gets a call and is asked to make either a salad or dessert for one night. I have been conscripted to make a salad called "Of Rice and Men." It looks absolutely disgusting, but people seem to like it.
I have some hope on the Wesley front too! A friend of mine says she saw him over on her side of town Wednesday night. She called him and he responded by giving her a dirty look, meowing, and disappearing into a bush. If it was him then it means, well, it means he is alive and may be coming home sometime. I'm trying not to be too hopeful, I don't want to be disappointed, but my spirits were certainly lifted. So long as he stays away from dogs, cars, trains, and the open prairie where coyote's and foxes and great big owls hunt, he should survive, right??
I have some hope on the Wesley front too! A friend of mine says she saw him over on her side of town Wednesday night. She called him and he responded by giving her a dirty look, meowing, and disappearing into a bush. If it was him then it means, well, it means he is alive and may be coming home sometime. I'm trying not to be too hopeful, I don't want to be disappointed, but my spirits were certainly lifted. So long as he stays away from dogs, cars, trains, and the open prairie where coyote's and foxes and great big owls hunt, he should survive, right??
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Ninja in Pink
Still no sign of Wesley, even on top of the hot water tank. While I was at rehearsal last night Ian got a call from someone who saw the signs that I posted all over town and thought they had him. They brought the cat by, but alas, it was not our Mr. Wyndham-Price. Everyone seems very positive about him returning one day, but I guess I'm a pessimist at heart, cause I just can't imagine him surviving even one night out there.
Other than the missing cat things are going surprisingly well. While I was away Frances started to crawl on all fours, as opposed to the "dying man's crawl" that she had been doing up to that point. She still drags herself across the floor from time to time, but she's finally discovered the coordination to do the real thing. She's gotten awfully cute too, I know I was only gone for a few days, but she's much easier to take (and like) since I got back. I don't know if it's just because I missed her, or if she hit some major likeability milestone while I was away.
Mary's doing very well too. Today she helped me clean up the house (well, main floor of the house) and vacuum. She does miss Wesley quite a bit, and every once in a while she will get very solemn and announce "Wesley run away. Not here." It makes me sad.
But this picture always seems to cheer me up. I call it "Ninja in Pink Against a Blue Wall."
This is the expression on Frances's face all day long lately. Much better than the screaming face, eh?
Other than the missing cat things are going surprisingly well. While I was away Frances started to crawl on all fours, as opposed to the "dying man's crawl" that she had been doing up to that point. She still drags herself across the floor from time to time, but she's finally discovered the coordination to do the real thing. She's gotten awfully cute too, I know I was only gone for a few days, but she's much easier to take (and like) since I got back. I don't know if it's just because I missed her, or if she hit some major likeability milestone while I was away.
Mary's doing very well too. Today she helped me clean up the house (well, main floor of the house) and vacuum. She does miss Wesley quite a bit, and every once in a while she will get very solemn and announce "Wesley run away. Not here." It makes me sad.
But this picture always seems to cheer me up. I call it "Ninja in Pink Against a Blue Wall."
This is the expression on Frances's face all day long lately. Much better than the screaming face, eh?
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Home Now
Hello everyone!
Well, the drama festival is over and done with, and thank GOD for that. It went rather poorly, in case you were wondering. The hotel was AWFUL and filthy, there were men jackhammering all day just outside our dressing room, the group that performed the night before rewired the entire light board, and the performance was terrible.
My trip to Edmonton went well though. I got to see many people that I miss and love and I got to see several babies. I did miss the girls something fierce, but I was able to speak to Mary on the phone every day.
I got home to sadness though. Ian didn't shut the door on Sunday and one of the cats ran away and hasn't been seen since. I'm trying to stay positive, but I know what happens to house cats who have never been outside when they do get out. I have my doubts that he survived the first night, what with wild animals, dogs, trains, and cars. I'm pretty devastated, and I'm trying very hard not to blame Ian. It's not his fault. But I can't help but think that I can't even be gone for 5 days without one of my pets dying or disappearing. It's disheartening, you know? Anyways, last night I ran off some pictures and lost signs and put them up on all the bulletin boards in town. I haven't got a lot of hope, but I had to do something. I managed to hold it together till bed time, and while I was brushing my teeth I just lost it and started bawling, I'm awfully attached to my cats.
Well, the drama festival is over and done with, and thank GOD for that. It went rather poorly, in case you were wondering. The hotel was AWFUL and filthy, there were men jackhammering all day just outside our dressing room, the group that performed the night before rewired the entire light board, and the performance was terrible.
My trip to Edmonton went well though. I got to see many people that I miss and love and I got to see several babies. I did miss the girls something fierce, but I was able to speak to Mary on the phone every day.
I got home to sadness though. Ian didn't shut the door on Sunday and one of the cats ran away and hasn't been seen since. I'm trying to stay positive, but I know what happens to house cats who have never been outside when they do get out. I have my doubts that he survived the first night, what with wild animals, dogs, trains, and cars. I'm pretty devastated, and I'm trying very hard not to blame Ian. It's not his fault. But I can't help but think that I can't even be gone for 5 days without one of my pets dying or disappearing. It's disheartening, you know? Anyways, last night I ran off some pictures and lost signs and put them up on all the bulletin boards in town. I haven't got a lot of hope, but I had to do something. I managed to hold it together till bed time, and while I was brushing my teeth I just lost it and started bawling, I'm awfully attached to my cats.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
The Play
It went fantastically! I can't believe how fun it was, and even though there was a couple of missed lines, it went better than ever! Why on earth haven't I done this before?
I can't wait for the next performance.
I can't wait for the next performance.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Ears
Gosh, I can't believe I didn't mention this earlier.
Mary went to the Audiologist on Friday, and guess what? Her eardrums are both ruptured! I felt like a grade A mother when the tester showed me the results. How could I not know? Don't you think that having an ear drum rupture would hurt something fierce? How could I have missed it? I've gotten over most of my Bad Mother Guilt, I'm mostly glad that we know now. It likely happened quite a while ago as she also has mild to moderate conductive hearing loss. From what I gather, that means that her ear nerves work well, the message just isn't getting to them due to the buggered ear drums. It is most likely the cause of her language problems too - she just doesn't hear us properly. So, we are now waiting to her from the Ear Nose Throat doctor so we can get started on fixing the problem. Tubes for the near constant ear infections that I had no idea about, skin grafts to fix the holes in the ear drums, who knows? Hopefully we will get a rush on the appointment with the ENT, there's only 3 in the city and they are all very busy, but the family doctor has asked that Mary be seen sooner rather than later because of her language issues. In the mean time we will continue going to the speech pathologist and working on her pronunciation that way, though I'm not sure how much it'll help. I mean, if she can't hear us properly we can repeat the proper way to say a word till we're blue in the face and she still won't get it, right?
Mary went to the Audiologist on Friday, and guess what? Her eardrums are both ruptured! I felt like a grade A mother when the tester showed me the results. How could I not know? Don't you think that having an ear drum rupture would hurt something fierce? How could I have missed it? I've gotten over most of my Bad Mother Guilt, I'm mostly glad that we know now. It likely happened quite a while ago as she also has mild to moderate conductive hearing loss. From what I gather, that means that her ear nerves work well, the message just isn't getting to them due to the buggered ear drums. It is most likely the cause of her language problems too - she just doesn't hear us properly. So, we are now waiting to her from the Ear Nose Throat doctor so we can get started on fixing the problem. Tubes for the near constant ear infections that I had no idea about, skin grafts to fix the holes in the ear drums, who knows? Hopefully we will get a rush on the appointment with the ENT, there's only 3 in the city and they are all very busy, but the family doctor has asked that Mary be seen sooner rather than later because of her language issues. In the mean time we will continue going to the speech pathologist and working on her pronunciation that way, though I'm not sure how much it'll help. I mean, if she can't hear us properly we can repeat the proper way to say a word till we're blue in the face and she still won't get it, right?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
DRAMA!!
So, I'm in this play, right? It's the local dinner theater, and we're performing in a festival/competition too. Our first performance in front of an audience is in 6 days. SIX DAYS. And. AND. There is a person, in the play, who still, STILLLL does not know her lines. Hardly at all. At rehearsal today, she actually could not remember her characters name. She introduced herself (in CHARACTER) with another characters name. I could puke. I could just puke.
That is all.
(oh, and it's not me. I know all my lines.)
That is all.
(oh, and it's not me. I know all my lines.)
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Mostly Normal
Gosh, what a busy week it's been. We traded in the Taurus for a far more fuel efficient (but nowhere near as nice) vehicle. A KIA something-or-other. It makes it much easier for Ian to get to and from work, we aren't spending over fifty bucks on gas every couple of days. I've driven it a couple of times and it's okay, I suppose, though it does feel awfully low and rattly on the highway.
Thursday past we went in to the city for a fun day full of specialist appointments for the kids. Mary saw the Speech pathologist first, and it went quite well. She had fun, the SLP girl was very nice (and from Milestone too, no less). She agreed that Mary will need follow up appointments, even though she knows a great deal of words and is able to make all the sounds that she ought to at this age, she's just not consistent with the pronunciation. After Mary was all done we grabbed a quick lunch and headed off to the pediatric outpatient department for Frances' appointment with a physical therapist. I don't remember if I've mentioned this earlier (I probably have) but Frances just won't sit. She rolls, she stands with support, she gets up on her hands and knees and is very close to crawling, but she doesn't sit. I am of the opinion that she just doesn't want too, but the pediatrician was a little concerned, so off to the physical therapist we went. Frances was amazingly cheery for a girl who missed her nap and doesn't like strangers. The physical therapist LOVED her and said that while Frances doesn't need to come back, I could bring her back if I really wanted. I gather she's not used to happy babies in her fun little room, apparently preemies are a whole different breed of baby when it comes to social interaction. Anyways, the general consensus was that Frances is just fine, she just doesn't like to sit, thus she doesn't get to exercise the muscles necessary to sit well. The therapist also thought that Frances was a little slow realizing that she was falling and by time she figured it out, she was already flat out.
Oh! And I saw the Dr. about my blood tests yesterday. I'm not diabetic. I'm just fine. Except for the fact that my cholesterol levels are very high for my age. Huh? Is that the residue from living in the city and eating all sorts of take out and crap? Cause I'll have you know that I have been trying very hard to eat healthier since we moved here. It's not difficult what with the lack of McDonalds in a 50 Kilometre radius. So, I'm not really sure where to go from here. The Dr. said healthy eating and exercise. Exercise, which is far easier said than done when one has two wee people and it's minus fricken thirty degrees outside. Not to mention the fact that I despise exercise with a white hot passion. I guess I'll have to figure something out though, maybe find a decent exercise DVD at the library? I don't really know.
This week Mary is off to see the SLP again on Thursday and she's getting her hearing checked on Friday. We have lots of rehearsals for the stupid play as our first performance in front of an audience is on the 18th (ACK!). This week is the final week for skating as well, which makes it a very busy week. Tomorrow is the dress rehearsal for "Carnival," which is a sort of party/show that the skating club puts on. It's going to be a long night at the rink followed by a long night on stage rehearsing. Friday is the actual Carnival, and it doesn't start till 7:30 - which is Mary's bed time. Should be interesting. Saturday is games at the rink followed by a supper for which I need to cook an angel food cake. I was going to do it from scratch but the recipe calls for 12 egg whites, and what the hell am I supposed to do with 12 egg yolks anyways?? So I got a boxed mix, I'm ashamed to admit. The weekend culminates with a cabaret for all the grown up folks Saturday night. Mary and Frances are spending the night with my Dad in Regina so Ian and I can imbibe and celebrate being adults without worrying about having to get up bright and early in the morning. Of course I have rehearsal and cast photographs Sunday morning anyways. Sigh.
Thursday past we went in to the city for a fun day full of specialist appointments for the kids. Mary saw the Speech pathologist first, and it went quite well. She had fun, the SLP girl was very nice (and from Milestone too, no less). She agreed that Mary will need follow up appointments, even though she knows a great deal of words and is able to make all the sounds that she ought to at this age, she's just not consistent with the pronunciation. After Mary was all done we grabbed a quick lunch and headed off to the pediatric outpatient department for Frances' appointment with a physical therapist. I don't remember if I've mentioned this earlier (I probably have) but Frances just won't sit. She rolls, she stands with support, she gets up on her hands and knees and is very close to crawling, but she doesn't sit. I am of the opinion that she just doesn't want too, but the pediatrician was a little concerned, so off to the physical therapist we went. Frances was amazingly cheery for a girl who missed her nap and doesn't like strangers. The physical therapist LOVED her and said that while Frances doesn't need to come back, I could bring her back if I really wanted. I gather she's not used to happy babies in her fun little room, apparently preemies are a whole different breed of baby when it comes to social interaction. Anyways, the general consensus was that Frances is just fine, she just doesn't like to sit, thus she doesn't get to exercise the muscles necessary to sit well. The therapist also thought that Frances was a little slow realizing that she was falling and by time she figured it out, she was already flat out.
Oh! And I saw the Dr. about my blood tests yesterday. I'm not diabetic. I'm just fine. Except for the fact that my cholesterol levels are very high for my age. Huh? Is that the residue from living in the city and eating all sorts of take out and crap? Cause I'll have you know that I have been trying very hard to eat healthier since we moved here. It's not difficult what with the lack of McDonalds in a 50 Kilometre radius. So, I'm not really sure where to go from here. The Dr. said healthy eating and exercise. Exercise, which is far easier said than done when one has two wee people and it's minus fricken thirty degrees outside. Not to mention the fact that I despise exercise with a white hot passion. I guess I'll have to figure something out though, maybe find a decent exercise DVD at the library? I don't really know.
This week Mary is off to see the SLP again on Thursday and she's getting her hearing checked on Friday. We have lots of rehearsals for the stupid play as our first performance in front of an audience is on the 18th (ACK!). This week is the final week for skating as well, which makes it a very busy week. Tomorrow is the dress rehearsal for "Carnival," which is a sort of party/show that the skating club puts on. It's going to be a long night at the rink followed by a long night on stage rehearsing. Friday is the actual Carnival, and it doesn't start till 7:30 - which is Mary's bed time. Should be interesting. Saturday is games at the rink followed by a supper for which I need to cook an angel food cake. I was going to do it from scratch but the recipe calls for 12 egg whites, and what the hell am I supposed to do with 12 egg yolks anyways?? So I got a boxed mix, I'm ashamed to admit. The weekend culminates with a cabaret for all the grown up folks Saturday night. Mary and Frances are spending the night with my Dad in Regina so Ian and I can imbibe and celebrate being adults without worrying about having to get up bright and early in the morning. Of course I have rehearsal and cast photographs Sunday morning anyways. Sigh.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Alphabet Song
Me: Mary, why don't you sing the Alphabet Song?
Mary (musically): A, B, A, B, A, C, U, Something (she actually said "something"), A, (mumbles), U, V, Mary, Frances, Twinkle, Twinkle, Prubble, Monster, P, R, Alphabet, Whale, 2, 3, 1, A, B, ZED!
Me: ...
Mary got a harmonica as a party favor from her friends birthday party. We have become a musical house. She stole an empty plastic container, a wooden spoon and a rattle and along with the harmonica, she puts on shows for me. She's a multitalented girl, her shows include all her musical instruments as well as singing and dancing....and she always bows and says "thank you, thank you" when the show is over.
Of course between tantrums and just general whining it seems I rarely get to see that side of her...
I'm off to the doctor tomorrow for an interesting appointment. I have all but convinced myself (thank you internets!) that I am diabetic, now I just need the doctor to confirm the sad facts. Mary will be spending the day with the local babysitter lady, which should be interesting for both her and me. Frances will come with me to the doctor and mall, It will be nice for me to spend some time alone with the younger child for once.
Mary (musically): A, B, A, B, A, C, U, Something (she actually said "something"), A, (mumbles), U, V, Mary, Frances, Twinkle, Twinkle, Prubble, Monster, P, R, Alphabet, Whale, 2, 3, 1, A, B, ZED!
Me: ...
Mary got a harmonica as a party favor from her friends birthday party. We have become a musical house. She stole an empty plastic container, a wooden spoon and a rattle and along with the harmonica, she puts on shows for me. She's a multitalented girl, her shows include all her musical instruments as well as singing and dancing....and she always bows and says "thank you, thank you" when the show is over.
Of course between tantrums and just general whining it seems I rarely get to see that side of her...
I'm off to the doctor tomorrow for an interesting appointment. I have all but convinced myself (thank you internets!) that I am diabetic, now I just need the doctor to confirm the sad facts. Mary will be spending the day with the local babysitter lady, which should be interesting for both her and me. Frances will come with me to the doctor and mall, It will be nice for me to spend some time alone with the younger child for once.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Ouch
Three is kicking my ass. I hate three. I would like two back now please. How can a child change so much in a month? Was she always like this, or has something changed overnight? She's crabby, contrary, bossy, and occasionally downright mean. I ask her if she wants something and without fail she says no, until I put it away or stop asking or just say fine. Then she wants it. She needs it. She shrieks for it. No matter what I suggest, no matter what I do, it's wrong. I am often told to "Go away!" I still see glimpses of my sweet girl, giving me cuddles, playing with Frances, begging me for kisses....but it's happening less and less often. Please, tell me it gets better. Please tell me my only hope isn't to wring her neck and run away to Guatemala. Please?
PLEASE??
PLEASE??
Friday, February 08, 2008
Meh
Yes, I have been neglecting this blog. In fact, I would be surprised if anyone actually reads it anymore. I don't know why, but lately I just can't be bothered. Everything in my life is pretty much same-old same-old, you know? Let's see. Since my last update I have... rehearsed for the play, taken Mary skating, fed children, cooked meals, baked bread, listened to the radio, changed diapers, given baths, done laundry. How exciting is that? We've had some seriously crummy weather, and it looks like we will be getting more real soon. I think I made it to the city once or twice. Ian had a wisdom tooth pulled. Ian works far too much and is rarely home these days. We are getting rid of most of the channels we get on TV which cuts our bill more than in half. We are trying to find a car that is better on gas for Ian to commute to work in that doesn't require us to give anything more than the Taurus, we can't afford to pay for a car.
Mary still isn't potty trained. I'm still waiting to hear from the Speech and Language people - at this rate Mary'll be 12 before we see someone. Mary is mostly delightful and fun to have around. She's such an incredibly loving and imaginative child, it really amazes me sometimes that I had a hand in getting her to a point where she is able to express her personality so well. Last night she had a 2 hour tantrum (not so delightful and fun) before bed that had me weeping with murderous rage mixed with sickening guilt.
Frances is getting bigger and cuter all the time. She's cheerful and sweet, and because I've been dragging her to the rink and to many of the rehearsals she is getting better with strangers. She still isn't terribly fond of old men though, which is a pity because there are lots of them in this town and they all adore her. She still doesn't sleep through the night. She is more and more mobile now - she doesn't crawl yet but she rolls around the house like a champ.
The cats are good. The outdoor cats that I feed survived the -52 degree weather.
I've been sick for about a month, I'm almost constantly nauseous which isn't much fun. No, I am not pregnant again, thank Christ. The news has had me in a state of almost constant outrage, what with babies freezing to death in their diapers and t-shirts, a young Canadian child soldier being tried for the murder of an American soldier in Afghanistan and the Canadian government doing it's best to ignore the whole thing, people fighting endangered designation for Polar Bears because it will prevent American trophy hunters from spending their money in the Canadian north, and once again hearing how I am poisoning my children because I give them formula rather than breast milk. The play is going well, we are working on the second act now which I am finding much easier to commit to memory for some reason. I am giddy with anticipation for the end of March when we perform at the competition in North Battleford....Though I am more excited about my trip to Edmonton afterwards than anything else.
Mary still isn't potty trained. I'm still waiting to hear from the Speech and Language people - at this rate Mary'll be 12 before we see someone. Mary is mostly delightful and fun to have around. She's such an incredibly loving and imaginative child, it really amazes me sometimes that I had a hand in getting her to a point where she is able to express her personality so well. Last night she had a 2 hour tantrum (not so delightful and fun) before bed that had me weeping with murderous rage mixed with sickening guilt.
Frances is getting bigger and cuter all the time. She's cheerful and sweet, and because I've been dragging her to the rink and to many of the rehearsals she is getting better with strangers. She still isn't terribly fond of old men though, which is a pity because there are lots of them in this town and they all adore her. She still doesn't sleep through the night. She is more and more mobile now - she doesn't crawl yet but she rolls around the house like a champ.
The cats are good. The outdoor cats that I feed survived the -52 degree weather.
I've been sick for about a month, I'm almost constantly nauseous which isn't much fun. No, I am not pregnant again, thank Christ. The news has had me in a state of almost constant outrage, what with babies freezing to death in their diapers and t-shirts, a young Canadian child soldier being tried for the murder of an American soldier in Afghanistan and the Canadian government doing it's best to ignore the whole thing, people fighting endangered designation for Polar Bears because it will prevent American trophy hunters from spending their money in the Canadian north, and once again hearing how I am poisoning my children because I give them formula rather than breast milk. The play is going well, we are working on the second act now which I am finding much easier to commit to memory for some reason. I am giddy with anticipation for the end of March when we perform at the competition in North Battleford....Though I am more excited about my trip to Edmonton afterwards than anything else.
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