Family Vacation

We leave tomorrow for a trip to Peachland, in the Okanagan. My far too wealthy uncle has a beautiful summer home (compound) there and has the family out every year for Canada Day. We are going to stay for a full week, and I can't wait. We have a small kink in our plans mind you, and that is that Frances is currently suffering from a low grade case of the measles due to her vaccination last week. Yesterday she had liquid (and boy, do I mean liquid) poop, and a frighteningly high fever. The bum problems and the fever seem to have gone, but she is still extremely spotty. The nurses all say that as long as the fever is gone she should be fine, and she's not contagious. I must admit, I'm not thrilled about a 16 hour drive (in 2 days) with a sick baby and a toddler who is extremely possessive of her own window. Wish me luck, and pray for me.

Anyways, I'm off to visit with my good buddy, Ogopogo. See y'all in a couple of weeks!

Enneagram Test

A bizarrely accurate enneagram test stolen from Miss Cori.

Your result for The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test...

4- the Individualist

you chose BY - your Enneagram type is FOUR (aka "The Romantic")

"I am unique"

Romantics have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive.

How to Get Along with Me

• Give me plenty of compliments. They mean a lot to me.


• Be a supportive friend or partner. Help me to learn to love and value myself.


• Respect me for my special gifts of intuition and vision.


• Though I don't always want to be cheered up when I'm feeling melancholy, I sometimes like to have someone lighten me up a little.


• Don't tell me I'm too sensitive or that I'm overreacting!

What I Like About Being a FOUR

• my ability to find meaning in life and to experience feeling at a deep level


• my ability to establish warm connections with people


• admiring what is noble, truthful, and beautiful in life


• my creativity, intuition, and sense of humor


• being unique and being seen as unique by others


• having aesthetic sensibilities


• being able to easily pick up the feelings of people around me

What's Hard About Being a FOUR

• experiencing dark moods of emptiness and despair


• feelings of self-hatred and shame; believing I don't deserve to be loved
  


• feeling guilty when I disappoint people


• feeling hurt or attacked when someone misundertands me


• expecting too much from myself and life


• fearing being abandoned



• obsessing over resentments


• longing for what I don't have

FOURs as Children Often

• have active imaginations: play creatively alone or organize playmates in original games


• are very sensitive


• feel that they don't fit in


• believe they are missing something that other people have



• attach themselves to idealized teachers, heroes, artists, etc.


• become antiauthoritarian or rebellious when criticized or not understood
  


• feel lonely or abandoned (perhaps as a result of a death or their parents' divorce)

FOURs as Parents

• help their children become who they really are


• support their children's creativity and originality


• are good at helping their children get in touch with their feelings



• are sometimes overly critical or overly protective


• are usually very good with children if not too self-absorbed

Renee Baron & Elizabeth Wagele

The Enneagram Made Easy

Discover the 9 Types of People

Harper
SanFrancisco, 1994, 161 pages

You liked the test?

so S P R E A D I T ! tell everyone!!!
(use Quick-Paste below)

you wanna know MORE?

so check out, what Wikipedia says about your type...



...even more you'll find in Google

or do you prefer to

---

You are not completely happy with the result?!

You chose BY

Would you rather have chosen:

AY (EIGHT)

CY (SIX)

BX (NINE)

BZ (FIVE)

Take The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test at HelloQuizzy

Good News

We just saw the Ear doctor for Mary for the last time in a while, yay! He has finally removed the giant, rock hard plug of ear wax that has likely been in Mary's ear since she was a wee thing and he is confident that she can now hear as well as you or I. This is very good news for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that I don't think I can handle pinning her down as she shrieks and sobs while the doctor pokes around in her ear anymore.

One week from this moment I will be keeping my date with Ogopogo. I'm giddy with excitement.

As promised, here are some pictures of my wee equestrian.

My Horse, Money

Well, it's been a while. I've been lollyblogging yet again. It's not that I'm too busy, I just don't have much to talk about here anymore. I mean, there's only so many times I say the same thing without sounding like a broken record.

I'm Lonely
I'm Sad
I hate my life sometimes
I think we made a big mistake moving away from Edmonton
My children drive me crazy but are occasionally cute.

It's the pity parade, over and over and over again.

Anyways, things have actually been better the last little while. We had some wonderful visits with Star when she was in town, driving through to and from Winnipeg. I got to go to Edmonton for a very short visit, but I got a whole pile of visiting and socializing done. It was fantabulous to see all my friends, I sure miss them. I miss everyone so stinking much...but that's not what this post is about, right?

Anyways. The visit was wonderful. There was a Prairie Players meeting Wednesday night, which was aggravating in the extreme, but I was reminded that there are a few people in this town that I actually like. All I need to do is call them up and I will occasionally have people to chat with right here at home.

The weather is fantastic right now, warm and sunny. We bought the girls a sprinkler thingie to play in on the lawn. I took a bunch of pictures yesterday and they are incredibly cute. Unfortunately, Ian doesn't think that The Mart will print them for me because the girls are nekked in pretty much all of them.

Today I took the girls to a petting farm about 50 minutes north of here, in Lumsden. It was fabulous. Frances was mostly unimpressed, though she freaked out when the donkey sneezed. Apparently donkeys sneezing are incredibly frightening. Who knew? Mary loved every second of our time there. She kept telling me "Mummy, you love it here. I love it! I LOVE THE ANIMALS!!" She was very cute. Oh, and, Mary rode a horse for the first time in her life! It was very exciting as she is absolutely horse crazy these days, she even has an imaginary horse that she has named Money. She was an absolute natural. It was just a squat dwarven horse, but Mary had absolutely no fear. The gentleman who ran the place was as amazed as I was and he even asked if she had ever ridden a horse before this. He said that normally kids her age get frightened after a minute or two, but Mary stayed on the horse for about 5 minutes or so and could have kept going. Unfortunately my camera batteries died after only two pictures (which I will post here soon). Both Mary and Frances were amazingly well behaved all afternoon, and it was an all around Good Day. Yay!

The next week will be spent organizing the house. We leave for our vacation to the Okanagan in a week. I can't wait! Hopefully the weather will be nice.

Anyways, that's all for now, I guess. I shall leave you with a picture of Frannie enjoying the sun.

Negative Nellie No More

So. I realize that I may have been a little negative the last several times I've posted here. Things really aren't that bad in spite of disgusting miserable babies and stupid small town assholes. Todays post will be about the good things that I have enjoyed over the last few weeks.

1. Return of my libido after a very, VERY long hiatus. Enough said there, I think.

2. Birds. The birds that have been attracted to my feeders are amazing and a delight to watch. The other day I had a whole flock of American Goldfinches, and they looked like giant yellow and black butterflies flitting from branch to branch in my trees. I've seen more different species in the last month than I have in my whole life, from a tiny Ruby Throated Hummingbird in my apple tree to a goofy looking Pileated Woodpecker. I also have an owl living in one of the big poplars in my back yard, at night I can sit on the deck and listen to him hoot - it's a wonderful relaxing way to end the day.

3. Frances is finally better, hopefully for good this time. Friday morning and early afternoon was awful and I spent much of my time in tears. She woke up from her afternoon nap and was 100% better. It was really quite bizarre.

4. I made new friends (I hope). I got out to Lumsden to see Alan, Jon and I was able to meet Cenobyte B, her adorable husband and her two gorgeous little boys. Mary got on famously with her three year old, and there was only one point during the several hours we spent in their back yard that we had to separate them for fear someone was going to clock the other. It was a fabulous afternoon, the girls had fun, I had fun, and I felt better afterwards than I have in a long time.

5. I'm going to be playing in a Kingdom Come game! Yay! I'm eagerly obsessing about the game and I can't wait to get the evil show started.

6. Mary is so cool. I know, it's kind of dorky to describe a three year old as cool, but she really is. She's sweet, loving, and gentle, and while she often drives me crazy not a day goes by that she doesn't make me smile. She adores Frances and loves to boss her around, and even when she's mad at her sister I can see her concentrating on not hurting her. Her imagination grows every day, and I am constantly amazed by the stories and games she comes up with. I really am blessed to have such a wonderful little person in my life.

7. Ian. He works so hard, and I know he does it so that I can stay home with the girls, and to provide for us. He drives me bonkers (Mary must get that from him), but he is almost always patient with my moods and I know he loves me. It's nice to feel secure like that.

8. Bread. I have found the best bread recipe yet. It makes two perfect loaves for sandwiches and toast, and home made bread is not only cheaper than the store bought stuff, it tastes better too. To top it off, this recipe is super easy to make, even if it's a little time consuming.

9. We are going to Edmonton for the weekend in less than two weeks. Yay! We aren't going to have a lot of time to visit, unfortunately. We're driving up on Friday, home on Sunday.

10. We are spending a week in the Okanogan at the end of the month. Double Yay! All my family will be there, including cousins I haven't seen in years and all their babies. I can't wait to see the gang and show off the girls.

There, life isn't so bad, is it?

On and On

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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??

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?

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.

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.

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?

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.)