The video pretty much says it all.
Love,
Jacqui
Sunday 23 December 2012
Monday 17 December 2012
Saturday 15 December 2012
Christmas Miracle
Dear Jen,
Perhaps you remember last year when I said I would not get chickens till we had a larger property. And then I said not till the spring. And then I agreed to January. So we got them in November.
Well, perhaps I have also told you my rule about dogs: no dogs till we have a property big enough for it to get its exercise out there if needed. And not till the kids are old enough to share the responsibility for the care of the pet. "I am the one who is always home, and I will not be roped into doing everything like my mother was!"
That's my rule about dogs.
So true to form we are getting a dog next week (just after I drive Brad home from his surgery! How you say..."Stop the madness"?).
But you should have seen how giddy Brad was (and is)! Like a kid at Christmas! "I don't even care about Christmas presents!" he said. I have to admit I got a little emotional myself interacting with her. She is so very much like Brad's old dog Sierra that my family owned for a year before we left her with a good friend in Montreal, that Brad still carries a picture of in his wallet! She is docile and sweet and cuddly and short haired and medium sized and so so very gentle.
It's what I get for agreeing to accompany the family to the SPCA. I knew better. I'll let you know how her first introduction to the chickens goes!
Oy.
How's your Christmas looking?
Love,
Jacqui
Perhaps you remember last year when I said I would not get chickens till we had a larger property. And then I said not till the spring. And then I agreed to January. So we got them in November.
Well, perhaps I have also told you my rule about dogs: no dogs till we have a property big enough for it to get its exercise out there if needed. And not till the kids are old enough to share the responsibility for the care of the pet. "I am the one who is always home, and I will not be roped into doing everything like my mother was!"
That's my rule about dogs.
So true to form we are getting a dog next week (just after I drive Brad home from his surgery! How you say..."Stop the madness"?).
But you should have seen how giddy Brad was (and is)! Like a kid at Christmas! "I don't even care about Christmas presents!" he said. I have to admit I got a little emotional myself interacting with her. She is so very much like Brad's old dog Sierra that my family owned for a year before we left her with a good friend in Montreal, that Brad still carries a picture of in his wallet! She is docile and sweet and cuddly and short haired and medium sized and so so very gentle.
It's what I get for agreeing to accompany the family to the SPCA. I knew better. I'll let you know how her first introduction to the chickens goes!
Oy.
How's your Christmas looking?
Love,
Jacqui
Thursday 22 November 2012
Dear Jacqui,
I didn't forget... I'm just on "Mommy Time"...
Happy Birthday to my friend who would help me move a body.
Love, Jen
P.S. If I ever see this on Facebook, I will terminate the above said "body moving" friendship.
Monday 29 October 2012
Party in the Hizouse!
Dear Jen,
So usually when I come home from rehearsal the house is dark and silent. Brad is upstairs in his office studiously working on some homework assignment and the children are peacefully nuzzled all snug in their beds, with no evidence whatsoever of whatever chaotic goings on no doubt transpired when Brad first put them down.
Tonight, however...
Well, immediately upon entering the house things seemed normal enough. Quiet. Dark. But as I approached the stairs my ears began to pick up a faint vibrating sound. Standing at the base of the stairs I realized it was coming from the floor vent. I thought, "Sounds like heating." But I was pretty sure we hadn't turned the heat on yet. The only other explanation was "power tools", but as I peered up the stairs I saw lights on, as though Brad was where he always was, working away in his office. Confused, I called out, "BRAD?" to which I got the gleeful response, "MOMMY!"
"Uh oh," thought I, "Trouble."
So I cautiously ventured upstairs, and you know what I found? Evelyn hanging out in the hall with an excavator toy talking my ear off, and Gavin sitting in Brad's office, bare bum, colouring on a note pad with a pink pen.
"Gavin pooped in his potty, mom! Gavin pooped in his potty! See? Right there! He pooped in his potty! Isn't that good, mom? He pooped in his potty! Right there!"
So, I gathered what happened here, is that Gavin pooped in his potty. I dumped the thing out (poor kids, it was stinking up their room!), then spent five minutes repeatedly asking where his pants were before Gavin finally was so kind as to retrieve them for me--with more poop in them. So I went to dump that out and returned to the hallway to find Gavin had magically procured a push toy out of nowhere that he'd begun running along the hallway, and Evelyn, clearly the Queen of the Upstairs, led me into my bedroom to show me the slippers she'd left on my bed as she was freely roaming her domain this evening. Well, I finally convinced them to get into their room, and to get Gavin's pants back on, when I noticed that their curtain had been pulled off the window. WHAT KIND OF PARTIES HAVE THEY BEEN HAVING UP HERE??? Aaanyway, so I fixed that, got them into their beds, gave hugs and kisses, said goodnight, shut the door, and went straight to the basement to find Brad working away at some wooden toys.
So it was the power tools after all.
Kids are nuts. Good thing this scenario didn't play out at like 3 in the morning or something or I might have actually been a wee bit annoyed!
So usually when I come home from rehearsal the house is dark and silent. Brad is upstairs in his office studiously working on some homework assignment and the children are peacefully nuzzled all snug in their beds, with no evidence whatsoever of whatever chaotic goings on no doubt transpired when Brad first put them down.
Tonight, however...
Well, immediately upon entering the house things seemed normal enough. Quiet. Dark. But as I approached the stairs my ears began to pick up a faint vibrating sound. Standing at the base of the stairs I realized it was coming from the floor vent. I thought, "Sounds like heating." But I was pretty sure we hadn't turned the heat on yet. The only other explanation was "power tools", but as I peered up the stairs I saw lights on, as though Brad was where he always was, working away in his office. Confused, I called out, "BRAD?" to which I got the gleeful response, "MOMMY!"
"Uh oh," thought I, "Trouble."
So I cautiously ventured upstairs, and you know what I found? Evelyn hanging out in the hall with an excavator toy talking my ear off, and Gavin sitting in Brad's office, bare bum, colouring on a note pad with a pink pen.
"Gavin pooped in his potty, mom! Gavin pooped in his potty! See? Right there! He pooped in his potty! Isn't that good, mom? He pooped in his potty! Right there!"
So, I gathered what happened here, is that Gavin pooped in his potty. I dumped the thing out (poor kids, it was stinking up their room!), then spent five minutes repeatedly asking where his pants were before Gavin finally was so kind as to retrieve them for me--with more poop in them. So I went to dump that out and returned to the hallway to find Gavin had magically procured a push toy out of nowhere that he'd begun running along the hallway, and Evelyn, clearly the Queen of the Upstairs, led me into my bedroom to show me the slippers she'd left on my bed as she was freely roaming her domain this evening. Well, I finally convinced them to get into their room, and to get Gavin's pants back on, when I noticed that their curtain had been pulled off the window. WHAT KIND OF PARTIES HAVE THEY BEEN HAVING UP HERE??? Aaanyway, so I fixed that, got them into their beds, gave hugs and kisses, said goodnight, shut the door, and went straight to the basement to find Brad working away at some wooden toys.
So it was the power tools after all.
Kids are nuts. Good thing this scenario didn't play out at like 3 in the morning or something or I might have actually been a wee bit annoyed!
 |
Oy.
|
Tuesday 9 October 2012
Mini Muk Luks
Dear Jen,
I've decided that if our money-saving heating tactics are going to be successful this winter, the entire family must be fitted with cozy slippers. This morning I completed my first set--Gavin's. He loves them! He is pretty much as excited about a pair of hand-made slippers as a two-year-old boy can get. He wore them all day long; wouldn't take them off. So of course he peed all over them.
I mean, what else would you do with newly-completed hand-made custom slippers? Of course you would urinate all over them. Don't be silly.
I shouldn't make this sound worse than it is. To be fair, it's not like he singled them out. He also peed all over his pants and underwear, and then it dribbled down to his newly-completed hand-made custom slippers. Because, you know, walking five feet to the potty is an outrageous thing to expect from a two-year-old boy who has purportedly been going pee in the potty for nine months.
Outrageous.
I was going to take a picture of them, but of course now that will have to wait. I have instead provided the sample picture from the pattern so that you can comprehend what a true tragedy any sort of abuse of these too-cute-for-life slippers is. Try not to cry.
I've decided that if our money-saving heating tactics are going to be successful this winter, the entire family must be fitted with cozy slippers. This morning I completed my first set--Gavin's. He loves them! He is pretty much as excited about a pair of hand-made slippers as a two-year-old boy can get. He wore them all day long; wouldn't take them off. So of course he peed all over them.
I mean, what else would you do with newly-completed hand-made custom slippers? Of course you would urinate all over them. Don't be silly.
I shouldn't make this sound worse than it is. To be fair, it's not like he singled them out. He also peed all over his pants and underwear, and then it dribbled down to his newly-completed hand-made custom slippers. Because, you know, walking five feet to the potty is an outrageous thing to expect from a two-year-old boy who has purportedly been going pee in the potty for nine months.
Outrageous.
I was going to take a picture of them, but of course now that will have to wait. I have instead provided the sample picture from the pattern so that you can comprehend what a true tragedy any sort of abuse of these too-cute-for-life slippers is. Try not to cry.
 |
| |
Thursday 13 September 2012
Life Double
Dear Jen,
Every time I think about how your baby was born on his due date that was the same due date for Gavin which was also the day he was born, I cannot get over the awesomeness.
Seriously, I just cannot.
Love, Jacqui
ps I don't think I have ever been so excited about someone else having a baby before! Maybe it's because this time I had the advanced pleasure of having my own baby to love these past couple months and I'm just so excited for you to enjoy your own little guy too! It must be like when I was a kid and I would get so excited for other people's birthdays I'd get sick to my stomach. True story. Anyway, hope you're getting lots of support so you can really love it!
Every time I think about how your baby was born on his due date that was the same due date for Gavin which was also the day he was born, I cannot get over the awesomeness.
Seriously, I just cannot.
Love, Jacqui
ps I don't think I have ever been so excited about someone else having a baby before! Maybe it's because this time I had the advanced pleasure of having my own baby to love these past couple months and I'm just so excited for you to enjoy your own little guy too! It must be like when I was a kid and I would get so excited for other people's birthdays I'd get sick to my stomach. True story. Anyway, hope you're getting lots of support so you can really love it!
Tuesday 4 September 2012
Fly Lady
Dear Jen,
I have come upon a new and exciting idea, and I thought I'd better write it down somewhere, so I have selected here.
Yes you should feel honoured.
Okay so this morning, at some random point of thinking about who knows what, a solution to my house tidiness problem came to me. It's actually a slightly more complex problem than that. The other component to it is that I've started feeling a little bad about how many days we spend just hanging around the house. Wednesdays we go to the park, and Tuesdays we go grocery shopping. Aside from that, I will on occasion take the children to the library, and actually starting probably next week I think Maggie's Place playgroups will be started up again. But anyway, probably too many days we lounge around, eat a slow breakfast, take a long bath, and I fret about the filthiness of the house, tidying here and there until suddenly it's lunch, and then naps, and then we're practically at supper and the day is virtually over.
So do you remember how this one time you lent me that Fly Lady book? I'll bet you thought I was horribly offended by it and never picked it up except to angrily peruse and then hand it back, didn't you? How wrong you were! She's got some good ideas! I'll admit, I mostly skimmed, and skipped over the parts I thought didn't apply to me--like, I am capable of cleaning my house, and I do clean my kitchen on a regular basis, and I don't get so depressed I can barely pull myself out of bed, and I am moderately acceptably skilled at motivating myself to tidy, you know. There are also a few things in her system that I already naturally do--like wiping out the sink. But I read enough to get the gist of what her system is, and I applied one or two things right away: remember my room basket? I had this wicker basket in my livingroom whose entire purpose was to deposit mess that would be dealt with later. It was actually a very effective tool for that space. Doesn't work so well for this very broken up space, however.
Anyway, the other things I picked up from the book I stored somewhere in the back of my brain as interesting information I felt didn't apply to me at the time.
SO, that information turned out to be the root of my epiphany. I am experimenting on a new system and I am very excited about it! Just started an hour ago. In a few weeks I'll let you know how it went. Here it is: Every day just after Gavin goes down for his nap I'll put the timer on for ten minutes, and do a quick tidy of the whole main floor. Then after supper we'll start doing our "After Supper Cleaner Upper" again, and that will finish up whatever I didn't manage in the afternoon. Hopefully it will create this beautiful cycle of general tidiness, in which the afternoon clean up makes it so there isn't too much to do in the evening, and the evening tidy makes it so that I can actually get most of the mess cleaned up in just ten minutes. And hopefully all of this makes it so that there is no need to look around at my house in the morning and think, "Guess this is going to be a stay at home and tidy up day", and instead I can think, "Nothing to do here--what can the kids and I do together this morning?" Extra bonus I just thought of: the more mornings we spend out of the house, the less mess there is to deal with in the afternoon!
See how it all could work together symbiotically to create a CLEAN environment forever after? See how this system, if it is successful, could revolutionize my life???
I'm kind of pretty stinking excited about it.
Doesn't solve the upstairs, or the playroom, and doesn't clean my bathrooms, but lately I've been having trouble ever getting to those issues because I'm too tied up spending the entire day tidying this stinking house (side note: I mean "stinking" in terms of an expression of my disgust, not "stinking" in terms of actual smell), so this should actually improve that situation too.
So just an hour ago to kick it off I did a special extra clean up. I gave myself ten minutes per room and did the kitchen (which I cheated to about 17 minutes), the dining room, and the living room. It was encouragingly successful. And in about an hour's time I'll have another ten minutes to do a bit more, and let the fun begin!
Be excited for me. I'm just dying for this to actually work out.
Love Jacqui
I have come upon a new and exciting idea, and I thought I'd better write it down somewhere, so I have selected here.
Yes you should feel honoured.
Okay so this morning, at some random point of thinking about who knows what, a solution to my house tidiness problem came to me. It's actually a slightly more complex problem than that. The other component to it is that I've started feeling a little bad about how many days we spend just hanging around the house. Wednesdays we go to the park, and Tuesdays we go grocery shopping. Aside from that, I will on occasion take the children to the library, and actually starting probably next week I think Maggie's Place playgroups will be started up again. But anyway, probably too many days we lounge around, eat a slow breakfast, take a long bath, and I fret about the filthiness of the house, tidying here and there until suddenly it's lunch, and then naps, and then we're practically at supper and the day is virtually over.
So do you remember how this one time you lent me that Fly Lady book? I'll bet you thought I was horribly offended by it and never picked it up except to angrily peruse and then hand it back, didn't you? How wrong you were! She's got some good ideas! I'll admit, I mostly skimmed, and skipped over the parts I thought didn't apply to me--like, I am capable of cleaning my house, and I do clean my kitchen on a regular basis, and I don't get so depressed I can barely pull myself out of bed, and I am moderately acceptably skilled at motivating myself to tidy, you know. There are also a few things in her system that I already naturally do--like wiping out the sink. But I read enough to get the gist of what her system is, and I applied one or two things right away: remember my room basket? I had this wicker basket in my livingroom whose entire purpose was to deposit mess that would be dealt with later. It was actually a very effective tool for that space. Doesn't work so well for this very broken up space, however.
Anyway, the other things I picked up from the book I stored somewhere in the back of my brain as interesting information I felt didn't apply to me at the time.
SO, that information turned out to be the root of my epiphany. I am experimenting on a new system and I am very excited about it! Just started an hour ago. In a few weeks I'll let you know how it went. Here it is: Every day just after Gavin goes down for his nap I'll put the timer on for ten minutes, and do a quick tidy of the whole main floor. Then after supper we'll start doing our "After Supper Cleaner Upper" again, and that will finish up whatever I didn't manage in the afternoon. Hopefully it will create this beautiful cycle of general tidiness, in which the afternoon clean up makes it so there isn't too much to do in the evening, and the evening tidy makes it so that I can actually get most of the mess cleaned up in just ten minutes. And hopefully all of this makes it so that there is no need to look around at my house in the morning and think, "Guess this is going to be a stay at home and tidy up day", and instead I can think, "Nothing to do here--what can the kids and I do together this morning?" Extra bonus I just thought of: the more mornings we spend out of the house, the less mess there is to deal with in the afternoon!
See how it all could work together symbiotically to create a CLEAN environment forever after? See how this system, if it is successful, could revolutionize my life???
I'm kind of pretty stinking excited about it.
Doesn't solve the upstairs, or the playroom, and doesn't clean my bathrooms, but lately I've been having trouble ever getting to those issues because I'm too tied up spending the entire day tidying this stinking house (side note: I mean "stinking" in terms of an expression of my disgust, not "stinking" in terms of actual smell), so this should actually improve that situation too.
So just an hour ago to kick it off I did a special extra clean up. I gave myself ten minutes per room and did the kitchen (which I cheated to about 17 minutes), the dining room, and the living room. It was encouragingly successful. And in about an hour's time I'll have another ten minutes to do a bit more, and let the fun begin!
Be excited for me. I'm just dying for this to actually work out.
Love Jacqui
Sunday 19 August 2012
Cancer Research
Dear Jen,
You know how they tell you to boil soothers before using them?
...yeah...they should tell you not to boil them while you're sitting down to feed your baby. Actually there should be a warning label on all products that new mothers might buy, telling them not to try multi-tasking EVER. I'm also pretty sure I have cancer from all the toxic fumes I inhaled while trying to bring the disaster under control. Fortunately Brad had temporarily removed the fire alarm last fall when something we were cooking kept setting it off, so we didn't notice the problem until the stench began permeating our living room--at the other end of the house.
Yup.
Oh and also I ruined a pot. I mean the plastic is mostly scraped away, but I'm just that picky, I refuse to eat food cooked in a pot with even a little bit of plastic in it.
I know--I'm crazy.
Worst part is, now I have to go out to the store again to buy soothers.
Life...
Love,
Jacqui
You know how they tell you to boil soothers before using them?
Yup.
Oh and also I ruined a pot. I mean the plastic is mostly scraped away, but I'm just that picky, I refuse to eat food cooked in a pot with even a little bit of plastic in it.
I know--I'm crazy.
Worst part is, now I have to go out to the store again to buy soothers.
Life...
Love,
Jacqui
Wednesday 8 August 2012
What's Brown and Sticky?
Dear Jen,
I don't know whether it had been established before I moved how challenging lunches are for me.
I have developed a hatred for lunches.
I'm just not interested in anything lunch-oriented, and incidentally, neither are my kids. I have three staples that I know they'll eat, none of which I really want them eating on a regular basis: hot dogs; Kraft Dinner; grilled cheese sandwiches (alright that one's not the worst. Still--not enough protein for my liking!). Above that, I have struggled to find anything that they (or I) will actually put in their mouths.
No more, Jen, NO MORE! I have discovered the answer! And, as they usually are, it was so simple. What is it, do you ask?
TOOTH PICKS.
Tooth picks are the answer, my friend. I'm just rubbing my fingers together thinking of all the things I can tooth pick! I'm thinking PB&J may be getting a new look in our house!
So excited! For the moment, I am saved from the lunch-time drudgery.
...that is until Madamoiselle Master of the Universe decrees that tooth picks are passé...
Saturday 21 July 2012
Is there a class on post-partum breathing techniques?
Dear Jen,
Can you believe that it has already been over a month since the last post??? I don't know if your life has been as incredibly crazy, although considering you at least had a one-week vacation on Thetis Island in that time, it may very well have been. My how time loses all meaning when something like this:
Can you believe that it has already been over a month since the last post??? I don't know if your life has been as incredibly crazy, although considering you at least had a one-week vacation on Thetis Island in that time, it may very well have been. My how time loses all meaning when something like this:
(this is him sneezing--he did not love that gavoche tube)
comes into your life unexpectedly early!
I realized today that it has been almost four weeks since our family has been on our own--almost four weeks since I've done my own dishes or taken care of my children alone. It passes quick, and yet it seems like it's been a lifetime! Today I drove my mother to the airport to catch her flight home, and that was officially the end of our official help. I said to her, "Now I have to take care of my own family!" and wondered how I am going to manage that.
One day at a time, right? Not to brag to a still-pregnant lady or anything, but it is truly incredible how much energy my body can have after a night of constantly interrupted sleep. It's probably the number one thing I love most about not being pregnant: human levels of energy! No no, SUPER human levels of energy. For the first few weeks, anyway.
We'll figure it out, I suppose. Deep breaths!
Plus this looks like a pretty good start, 
right?
right?
Love,
Jacqui
Friday 15 June 2012
Dear Jacqui,
Well, my MIL is scheduled to arrive in the next little while... My house is a pretty big mess (think dumped out board games, craft cabinet, buttons and train track), my children are dirty (though they are dirty because we spent 3 hours at the park today - MOTY), Masen is wearing no pants and has marker all over his face, my floors (despite my intentions of washing them) look like someone HAS eaten off them, and there is pretty much no evidence of the vacuuming and bathroom cleaning I did yesterday as a result of the park adventure. (Darn sand!)
You know, this week has been a little tough... rainy weather, Masen's breathing issues preventing him (ME) from getting any real sleep and a UTI that has been pretty much the most painful thing I have ever experienced in pregnancy... other than the actual event of giving birth. (Umm... but even if you want to, you can't get an epidural for a UTI... not that I asked or anything.) LIFE has prevented me from doing all the things I usually like to do to basically pretend I am a better me than I actually am. (Though for the record, usually I like the me I am just fine.)
And though I tell myself that no matter the effort exerted, there is no chance that my clean house would ever measure up to the standard it will be judged by, I still find myself in a place where by human standards, I feel completely inadequate.
None the less, I am choosing to try to choose joy... be thankful that Masen actually napped today and that after a week of rain we enjoyed sunscreen weather. That being said, if you wanted to send me a little message to let me know that I am not the worst mother in the world and that losing my baby in a pile of laundry is actually considered a rite of passage, I'll receive it full of gratitude.
Until then, I'll be on the sofa reading Romans 8, reminding myself that we aren't starving children in Africa and hoping for the rapture.
Love, Jen
Well, my MIL is scheduled to arrive in the next little while... My house is a pretty big mess (think dumped out board games, craft cabinet, buttons and train track), my children are dirty (though they are dirty because we spent 3 hours at the park today - MOTY), Masen is wearing no pants and has marker all over his face, my floors (despite my intentions of washing them) look like someone HAS eaten off them, and there is pretty much no evidence of the vacuuming and bathroom cleaning I did yesterday as a result of the park adventure. (Darn sand!)
You know, this week has been a little tough... rainy weather, Masen's breathing issues preventing him (ME) from getting any real sleep and a UTI that has been pretty much the most painful thing I have ever experienced in pregnancy... other than the actual event of giving birth. (Umm... but even if you want to, you can't get an epidural for a UTI... not that I asked or anything.) LIFE has prevented me from doing all the things I usually like to do to basically pretend I am a better me than I actually am. (Though for the record, usually I like the me I am just fine.)
And though I tell myself that no matter the effort exerted, there is no chance that my clean house would ever measure up to the standard it will be judged by, I still find myself in a place where by human standards, I feel completely inadequate.
None the less, I am choosing to try to choose joy... be thankful that Masen actually napped today and that after a week of rain we enjoyed sunscreen weather. That being said, if you wanted to send me a little message to let me know that I am not the worst mother in the world and that losing my baby in a pile of laundry is actually considered a rite of passage, I'll receive it full of gratitude.
Until then, I'll be on the sofa reading Romans 8, reminding myself that we aren't starving children in Africa and hoping for the rapture.
Love, Jen
Saturday 9 June 2012
Giving Myself Permission to Think What I Think and Feel What I Feel--SO THERE.
Dear Jen,
I'm not so sure I want that dream to remind you of me! Kicking you when you're down? Sounds traumatic...
As for myself, this morning I was awakened (as now happens on occassion) by Brad's pained writhing at 3:30 am. We had a short exchange that went something like this:
Me: "Do you have your drugs up here?"
Him: "No."
Me: "Do you need me to go downstairs and get them for you?"
Him: "No I'm going to have to go down and lay on the couch anyway, I think."
Me: "Are you sure?"
Him: "Yes."
And then he promptly fell asleep.
I, on the other hand, being pregnant, have once again begun losing my ability to drift off to sleep after waking up at any time of the day or night. I actually have to be very careful about moving my limbs too much or thinking too clearly when I get up to pee or all could be lost for up to an hour. Verbal exchanges, though, are clearly my doing-in, because after 1.5 hours of tossing and turning, I finally gave in and headed downstairs to write a little updatey-poo in my far-too-neglected (considering my exciting life right now) journal.
One of the things I wound up doing was making a list of all the things I liked about Chilliwack. See, I was writing about how Brad and I had officially agreed that we would like to return to the area after school is done. I`ve been very strongly resisting the desire to say so because don`t we always feel that way about the last place we lived when we`re new somewhere? It hasn't even been a year here. But you know, I think it's alright for me to feel like we just didn't get the opportunity to get all that we could out of the place yet--and there's so much to get out of it! Plus I summed up my feelings more or less this way: I am very satisfied with my life here, and I'm happy to spend two more years, but I just don't think we're going to stay.
Anyway, my mind has been plagued by these thoughts of Chilliwack, so although the book is now all the way upstairs and I am not going up again until my bread is out of the oven and I am going to SLEEP, I will try to replicate the list. Here are the reasons I want to move back: the friends; the outdoor activities; the church ward; the community; the programs; the facilities. I want to come back to Sardis Park; blackberry bushes; Rotary Trail; Player's Guild; Leisure Centre (pool; play ground; spray park; everything in between); Vancouver Zoo; Go Bananas; Krause Farms; Party in the Park; Chilliwack Lake; gold panning; Othello Tunnels; the list goes on.
I've been learning some very valuable things here: one is how to do charitable service. People are incredible here at impromptu, un-asked-for, kind and genuine service. I'm going to make sure to learn that, and take it with me wherever I go to show other people. Most other places I've lived people are much more tied up in the business and routine of their lives to comprehend how one even begins to be charitably-minded all day long (you being the uncommon and inspiring exception). The other is how to make friendly with total strangers, or acquaintances, or anyone else. Around here, you can have a full conversation with just about any person who catches your eye. And once someone has met you one time, you are as good as best friends after that! I have a theory that people are actually confused by social timidity, and I'm realizing that if I'm not talking to someone I want to talk to, that's my fault because they certainly don't ever have a problem with it! So I'm learning not to divert my eyes when someone catches me looking. Instead one must smile and possibly start a conversation--whether you know the person or not! And I'm certain more lessons like this will come. I see my time in Truro as having the potential for being rich and full of learning and growth. In fact, my addressing challenges with the local branch of the church and participating in a positive way have already lead to great personal growth and strengthening in the few months I've been here! So, you know, I like it here in Truro--I really do. And I love the people. And I know I haven't even come close to discovering all this city and province have to offer.
But I want to move back to Chilliwack!
I'm not so sure I want that dream to remind you of me! Kicking you when you're down? Sounds traumatic...
As for myself, this morning I was awakened (as now happens on occassion) by Brad's pained writhing at 3:30 am. We had a short exchange that went something like this:
Me: "Do you have your drugs up here?"
Him: "No."
Me: "Do you need me to go downstairs and get them for you?"
Him: "No I'm going to have to go down and lay on the couch anyway, I think."
Me: "Are you sure?"
Him: "Yes."
And then he promptly fell asleep.
I, on the other hand, being pregnant, have once again begun losing my ability to drift off to sleep after waking up at any time of the day or night. I actually have to be very careful about moving my limbs too much or thinking too clearly when I get up to pee or all could be lost for up to an hour. Verbal exchanges, though, are clearly my doing-in, because after 1.5 hours of tossing and turning, I finally gave in and headed downstairs to write a little updatey-poo in my far-too-neglected (considering my exciting life right now) journal.
One of the things I wound up doing was making a list of all the things I liked about Chilliwack. See, I was writing about how Brad and I had officially agreed that we would like to return to the area after school is done. I`ve been very strongly resisting the desire to say so because don`t we always feel that way about the last place we lived when we`re new somewhere? It hasn't even been a year here. But you know, I think it's alright for me to feel like we just didn't get the opportunity to get all that we could out of the place yet--and there's so much to get out of it! Plus I summed up my feelings more or less this way: I am very satisfied with my life here, and I'm happy to spend two more years, but I just don't think we're going to stay.
Anyway, my mind has been plagued by these thoughts of Chilliwack, so although the book is now all the way upstairs and I am not going up again until my bread is out of the oven and I am going to SLEEP, I will try to replicate the list. Here are the reasons I want to move back: the friends; the outdoor activities; the church ward; the community; the programs; the facilities. I want to come back to Sardis Park; blackberry bushes; Rotary Trail; Player's Guild; Leisure Centre (pool; play ground; spray park; everything in between); Vancouver Zoo; Go Bananas; Krause Farms; Party in the Park; Chilliwack Lake; gold panning; Othello Tunnels; the list goes on.
I've been learning some very valuable things here: one is how to do charitable service. People are incredible here at impromptu, un-asked-for, kind and genuine service. I'm going to make sure to learn that, and take it with me wherever I go to show other people. Most other places I've lived people are much more tied up in the business and routine of their lives to comprehend how one even begins to be charitably-minded all day long (you being the uncommon and inspiring exception). The other is how to make friendly with total strangers, or acquaintances, or anyone else. Around here, you can have a full conversation with just about any person who catches your eye. And once someone has met you one time, you are as good as best friends after that! I have a theory that people are actually confused by social timidity, and I'm realizing that if I'm not talking to someone I want to talk to, that's my fault because they certainly don't ever have a problem with it! So I'm learning not to divert my eyes when someone catches me looking. Instead one must smile and possibly start a conversation--whether you know the person or not! And I'm certain more lessons like this will come. I see my time in Truro as having the potential for being rich and full of learning and growth. In fact, my addressing challenges with the local branch of the church and participating in a positive way have already lead to great personal growth and strengthening in the few months I've been here! So, you know, I like it here in Truro--I really do. And I love the people. And I know I haven't even come close to discovering all this city and province have to offer.
But I want to move back to Chilliwack!
Friday 8 June 2012
The Dream
Dear Jacqui,
Okay... well first off, I just want to point out that it is so cold here that as I am typing this, my FURNACE is running. Seriously. I am completely convinced that I am going to end up with a gas "adjustment" bill as I am completely sure that when they are annualize my usage, they are counting on us NOT using heat in the summer. Imagine that! Joel is away the last week of June and if things don't look up, I may very well have to take the kids somewhere in search of sunshine... Wanna meet in Winnipeg?
So I had a nice/weird/obviously a symptom of pregnancy dream last night... I was ironing ('cause that's how I spend all my free time) when your little family showed up at our place! Apparently you had just moved back (surprise!) and showed up at our house with your little trailer hoping to stay here. In my dream though, we lived in our townhouse, so somehow you just moved in next door. I know you don't care for condo living, but wouldn't it be nice to be neighbours?! :) Anyways, we decided to go for dinner and you wanted to borrow something of mine to wear and were getting increasingly frustrated with everything you tried on that I didn't have anything long enough to fit you. (Darn my 5'4" frame!) In the meantime, Brad was walking around looking like a mammoth because he hadn't showered or shaved the whole 5 day trip down. (Though it was completely exaggerated in my dream and it looked more like he hadn't showered or shaved in 5 months!) You wanted him to shower before we went out for dinner (Chinese in case you are interested in the details) and he kept saying that he only showers in the mornings and he couldn't shower in then or it would "mess up his system." While that was going on, Zach & Evelyn jumped off Zach's bunk bed and Zach got a bloody nose. I started freaking out that he was getting blood on the carpet but he wouldn't go into the bathroom to clean up. (This actual seems quite realistic to me.)
Somehow the dream ended with me on the floor with Zach and you kicking me in the back while I was down... except in real life I woke up to Masen (who I brought to bed with us) kicking me in the kidneys. I am still sore today, but I am choosing to use that pain to remind me of you. :) Plus that type of thought redirection will likely result in a more pleasant day for Masen.
So, do you ever have a dream where when you wake up (probably because it is from a sudden force like a kick in the back) you have to think about what was real and what wasn't? Well, let's just say I'm slightly disappointed this morning that you aren't my neighbour... Though if you saw how gloomy it was right now, I doubt you would share the same sentiment.
Happy Friday! Talk soon?!
Love, Jen
Okay... well first off, I just want to point out that it is so cold here that as I am typing this, my FURNACE is running. Seriously. I am completely convinced that I am going to end up with a gas "adjustment" bill as I am completely sure that when they are annualize my usage, they are counting on us NOT using heat in the summer. Imagine that! Joel is away the last week of June and if things don't look up, I may very well have to take the kids somewhere in search of sunshine... Wanna meet in Winnipeg?
So I had a nice/weird/obviously a symptom of pregnancy dream last night... I was ironing ('cause that's how I spend all my free time) when your little family showed up at our place! Apparently you had just moved back (surprise!) and showed up at our house with your little trailer hoping to stay here. In my dream though, we lived in our townhouse, so somehow you just moved in next door. I know you don't care for condo living, but wouldn't it be nice to be neighbours?! :) Anyways, we decided to go for dinner and you wanted to borrow something of mine to wear and were getting increasingly frustrated with everything you tried on that I didn't have anything long enough to fit you. (Darn my 5'4" frame!) In the meantime, Brad was walking around looking like a mammoth because he hadn't showered or shaved the whole 5 day trip down. (Though it was completely exaggerated in my dream and it looked more like he hadn't showered or shaved in 5 months!) You wanted him to shower before we went out for dinner (Chinese in case you are interested in the details) and he kept saying that he only showers in the mornings and he couldn't shower in then or it would "mess up his system." While that was going on, Zach & Evelyn jumped off Zach's bunk bed and Zach got a bloody nose. I started freaking out that he was getting blood on the carpet but he wouldn't go into the bathroom to clean up. (This actual seems quite realistic to me.)
Somehow the dream ended with me on the floor with Zach and you kicking me in the back while I was down... except in real life I woke up to Masen (who I brought to bed with us) kicking me in the kidneys. I am still sore today, but I am choosing to use that pain to remind me of you. :) Plus that type of thought redirection will likely result in a more pleasant day for Masen.
So, do you ever have a dream where when you wake up (probably because it is from a sudden force like a kick in the back) you have to think about what was real and what wasn't? Well, let's just say I'm slightly disappointed this morning that you aren't my neighbour... Though if you saw how gloomy it was right now, I doubt you would share the same sentiment.
Happy Friday! Talk soon?!
Love, Jen
Saturday 2 June 2012
TWO
Dear Jacqui,
As the winds raged and the rain fell today, I was reminded of a very similar day two years ago…
A pretty normal Wednesday that started with a little puddle splashing…
… and ended with meeting my “life double”.
“Oh, he’ll be two in July…” ”Really? Her birthday is July XX.” “That’s crazy! His birthday is only 5 days after that!”
“We actually just moved here at the end of August.” “Us too! We are from E-town.” “No way! We just moved from E-town too!”
“… actually I cloth diaper…”
“… pregnant and due in September…”
“… XXX is my midwife …”
So, I slipped you my FB group name & hoped you join.
& you did.
Love, Jen
P.S. I may or may not have this picture in my Jacqui shadow box… or I could have just recently seen it on FB with a “date stamp” on it… hard to say for sure.
As the winds raged and the rain fell today, I was reminded of a very similar day two years ago…
A pretty normal Wednesday that started with a little puddle splashing…
… and ended with meeting my “life double”.
“Oh, he’ll be two in July…” ”Really? Her birthday is July XX.” “That’s crazy! His birthday is only 5 days after that!”
“We actually just moved here at the end of August.” “Us too! We are from E-town.” “No way! We just moved from E-town too!”
“… actually I cloth diaper…”
“… pregnant and due in September…”
“… XXX is my midwife …”
So, I slipped you my FB group name & hoped you join.
& you did.
Love, Jen
P.S. I may or may not have this picture in my Jacqui shadow box… or I could have just recently seen it on FB with a “date stamp” on it… hard to say for sure.
Wednesday 30 May 2012
Finished Business
Dear Jen,
So in all the excitement of the past days (alright and all the things keeping me busy during the day and awake during the night) I haven't gotten to a very looked-forward-to thing, which is to show you the finished product of my painted chicken coop! Finally after months of waiting May long weekend proved perfect! The forecast was for sun sun and more sun starting Friday and continuing for four days, with daytime temperatures in the 20's and overnight close to 10. The entire week beforehand I had planned to paint the coop on Friday, but Brad's accident having happened that Wednesday it also turned out to be a welcome distraction for us as we waited daily to find out just when daddy would return to us.
Just to remind you of the "before" look, here is a cute picture of the children enjoying some snacks on the coop a couple months ago:
And now here is the finished product!
Just as I'd dreamed: an outrageously bright red and orange base to contrast the vibrant blue of the house, with some fantastic drawings by Evelyn. She's got to paint lots of real-use projects this season: a bird house; bird feeder; bee house; and now this, which in my opinion is the coup de grace. What you see on the front face is, left to right, the farmers, a stripey elephant, a cow (note the udder), a tall dinosaur, and a short dinosaur under a starry full-moon sky. On the side are some chickens, I think, and possibly more dinosaurs.
Anyway, I love it. Makes me much happier than that hideous bare press-board. SO glad we finally got that done! Now to just find time to plant all the rest of my garden! It's getting just a wee bit late methinks...
Tuesday 22 May 2012
Raindrops
Dear Jacqui,
Do I think that it was God's will for Brad to get in an accident? Absolutely not.
But, do I think he can use it to draw you closer to him? Yes... yes I do.
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God,
to them who are the called according to his purpose. - Romans 8:28
In the midst of our trials it often feels impossible to know what good can come of this... but we can trust that the One who knows the number of hairs on our head has a good plan for us.
I so very much wish that I was there to carry some of this burden with you... Let's talk very soon.
Love, Jen
P.S. I've been thinking on this in some of my own recent circumstances, and think it could be something "for you" too:
When you find God is all you have; you will realize he is all you need.
I'm praying that you sense God's presence and peace throughout this trial and have supernatural strength that can only be from him as you press on in the days ahead. Sending you love!
Monday 21 May 2012
Blessing Hunt
Dear Jen,
Generally, it is rather easy to see the blessings in planned hardships--like your husband leaving you alone with the children three evenings a week to take night classes so that he can finish his degree that much sooner. When those plans are completely trainwrecked, I have still been trying to make a huge effort to see the blessings in that, too.
Seeing them turns out not to be very hard. It's staying focused on them that's the issue. It's hard not to think about how less than a week ago Brad was making promising connections at his federal government summer research position, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and how he was already half way through his four-week "Calculus 1" course, and how this weekend would have been perfect for Brad to take Evelyn on that camping trip she's been asking for ever since we confirmed that winter really was over, and how because of a split-second moment of inattention by a pregnant woman in an SUV none of that exists anymore.
But I'm trying not to think about those things. Because this is what our life is now--and perhaps the things that I'm disappointed about will turn out not to matter, and other unforeseen things will turn out to be incredibly advantageous. It's a challenge especially to see this lengthy bone-repairing surgery recovery as an opportunity, instead of countless lost ones--a waste of time.
But I'm trying. For one thing, instead of having a summer of busy-ness, stress, and absence, Brad's will be the complete opposite. The kids and I will get to see a lot of him. And I will have the opportunity to learn how to do lots of things on my own, like planting a garden, and cleaning a chicken coop, and remembering to water house plants. And Brad will have the opportunity to learn the skill of taking it easy and experiencing what others call "leisure time". And I will have the opportunity to prove (mostly to myself) that I really am capable of selflessly serving someone else (Brad's always beat me to the punch with that one). And Brad will have the opportunity to do a lot of reading--including to the children!
The great blessing of Learning Opportunities is always difficult to stay positive about. But I'm trying. So far I'm usually pretty steady in my mental control. But then again, right now all I can think about is wanting Brad to come home, no matter how hard it'll make our day-to-day. But I've got myself in training for the long weeks ahead. I really believe every pitfall in life is an opportunity to receive hidden blessings. Putting that philosophy into practice will be the challenge...
Generally, it is rather easy to see the blessings in planned hardships--like your husband leaving you alone with the children three evenings a week to take night classes so that he can finish his degree that much sooner. When those plans are completely trainwrecked, I have still been trying to make a huge effort to see the blessings in that, too.
Seeing them turns out not to be very hard. It's staying focused on them that's the issue. It's hard not to think about how less than a week ago Brad was making promising connections at his federal government summer research position, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and how he was already half way through his four-week "Calculus 1" course, and how this weekend would have been perfect for Brad to take Evelyn on that camping trip she's been asking for ever since we confirmed that winter really was over, and how because of a split-second moment of inattention by a pregnant woman in an SUV none of that exists anymore.
But I'm trying not to think about those things. Because this is what our life is now--and perhaps the things that I'm disappointed about will turn out not to matter, and other unforeseen things will turn out to be incredibly advantageous. It's a challenge especially to see this lengthy bone-repairing surgery recovery as an opportunity, instead of countless lost ones--a waste of time.
But I'm trying. For one thing, instead of having a summer of busy-ness, stress, and absence, Brad's will be the complete opposite. The kids and I will get to see a lot of him. And I will have the opportunity to learn how to do lots of things on my own, like planting a garden, and cleaning a chicken coop, and remembering to water house plants. And Brad will have the opportunity to learn the skill of taking it easy and experiencing what others call "leisure time". And I will have the opportunity to prove (mostly to myself) that I really am capable of selflessly serving someone else (Brad's always beat me to the punch with that one). And Brad will have the opportunity to do a lot of reading--including to the children!
The great blessing of Learning Opportunities is always difficult to stay positive about. But I'm trying. So far I'm usually pretty steady in my mental control. But then again, right now all I can think about is wanting Brad to come home, no matter how hard it'll make our day-to-day. But I've got myself in training for the long weeks ahead. I really believe every pitfall in life is an opportunity to receive hidden blessings. Putting that philosophy into practice will be the challenge...
Wednesday 9 May 2012
Thought you should know
Dear Jen,
So I just made myself some fleece "kleenex"--meaning, I took a left-over strip of fleece I had sitting around and cut it into little nose-blowing-sized rectangles. I'd thought of trying it out probably about a month ago, but lucky me, I got myself a real opportunity to test the idea this week when I got a snotty cold!
I'm just full of luck.
The test was extra effective because I waited until all my actual kleenex was used up, so even though it's some fancy kind of moisturizer-infused tissue, my nose has started getting red and raw.
Those happy-nose commercials are LIES.
So I cut out one square as a tester, put it up to my dripping nose, and blew.
I should say that the experiment consisted of two components: 1. Will the material used irritate my sore nose? 2. Will the material actually remove the snot from my face and keep it safe and sound in the fabric?
Important questions.
SO. I cut out one square as a tester, put it up to my dripping nose, and blew.
And...
It was like blowing my nose into a heaven cloud! OH man. Soooo superior to kleenex. The entire Western culture is living in a prison of ignorance. If only they all knew: fleece is the way to go!
Oh--and also it surprisingly did absorb my nasal excrement quite well. So I cut 20 more.
Love,
Jacqui
So I just made myself some fleece "kleenex"--meaning, I took a left-over strip of fleece I had sitting around and cut it into little nose-blowing-sized rectangles. I'd thought of trying it out probably about a month ago, but lucky me, I got myself a real opportunity to test the idea this week when I got a snotty cold!
I'm just full of luck.
The test was extra effective because I waited until all my actual kleenex was used up, so even though it's some fancy kind of moisturizer-infused tissue, my nose has started getting red and raw.
Those happy-nose commercials are LIES.
So I cut out one square as a tester, put it up to my dripping nose, and blew.
I should say that the experiment consisted of two components: 1. Will the material used irritate my sore nose? 2. Will the material actually remove the snot from my face and keep it safe and sound in the fabric?
Important questions.
SO. I cut out one square as a tester, put it up to my dripping nose, and blew.
And...
It was like blowing my nose into a heaven cloud! OH man. Soooo superior to kleenex. The entire Western culture is living in a prison of ignorance. If only they all knew: fleece is the way to go!
Oh--and also it surprisingly did absorb my nasal excrement quite well. So I cut 20 more.
Love,
Jacqui
Monday 7 May 2012
Life Progress...
Dear Jen,
I recently learned that there is in fact more than one good playground in town. It happens to be one that I'd seen a couple times before, as I drove down the long road that goes past the university buildings and fields and into sparse suburbia. Every time its vibrant colours attracted my eye, and as I zipped past I would try to catch a glimpse of the school to which it surely belonged. I never could find one, so it was on my list of "things to investigate". But then one day I mentioned it and someone said, "Oh yeah, that's the Bible Hill Rec. Park. I take my kids there sometimes. It's pretty good." So I got excited.
The timing of learning about this park was ideal, because the very next week Brad started work and so I needed to take Gavin with me to Evelyn's gymnastics class. I'd taken him once before, and he likes to try to struggle through the open window to clamour into the very fun-looking gym, and then cry in frustration when I won't let him. This park happens to be very close to the gymnastics building, and especially excellent: it was a clear, sunny day. Meant to be!
So I checked out the park:
And it's pretty cool! But that wasn't the best part of my park adventure. The best part was the "other mother" who was also there.
Isn't it kind of crazy and funny how trying to make new friends is a little too pathetically similar to trying to find a husband? It was totally this whole melodramatic scene.
"From across the park, I spotted you instantly. I'd seen you before, at other playgroups, and I'd always wanted to say hello, but the moment never seemed right. Now, alone at the park together, I knew this was my chance, but I didn't know how to begin. Tentatively I stood at a distance, pretending to be playing with my son, but really looking to see if you'd noticed me--trying to seem casual; trying to look cool; trying to appear like an attentive mother who also is laid-back enough to let my toddler brave the play structure on his own; trying to think of a witty line; trying to find an excuse--anything--to come close enough to you to use it. Then, just as I'd given myself up to my fate of loneliness and solitude, providence! My son became jealous of the red-steel jeep that your son was climbing on. Slowly, I sauntered forward, hoping I didn't appear too eager, hoping you didn't just see right through my facade (and yet...hoping you would), and then...you spoke! We connected--chatted about childbirth, about sleep schedules, exchanged names even...and my morning was made."
See? Just change around the details to be a smoky room at a party where you connect with that hot guy you'd been eyeing for weeks and you've got a romance novel.
Anyway, so that was my exciting Thursday. I've decided to even incorporate the park into my playgroup (which has had a grand old people count of ME--unless you include my friend from church with a 6-month-old who drops by occassionally), so now we are really like you! Park rotation! One woman on the FB group who has seemed really eager lives in Bible Hill and appears not to have a vehicle to get her over to my side of town, so perhaps this switch will even land me a single regular playgroup attendee! One can only desperately pray (no it's not that bad for me. I'm just a wee bit concerned for Evelyn because her only friends are the older kids from church who go to school all day long, and the one boy her age moved away a couple weeks ago, which she was quite disappointed about).
One last bit of not-actually-news, but just to keep you muddled and confused, it is looking possible that our living-in-limbo full-time-schooling sentence may be shortened by yet another year. As Brad discusses with professors and students and professionals and employers, he seems to be leaning toward stopping school with the Bachelor's. He's mentioned it to me a few times over the past few weeks, which means it is something that may actually happen. I guess the types of things he can do with a Master's aren't necessarily any more exciting than what he can do with the Bachelor's, and actually may be a wee bit less interesting. So...that would be only two more years! Do you think the job at FVRD will still be available?
Love,
Jacqui
I recently learned that there is in fact more than one good playground in town. It happens to be one that I'd seen a couple times before, as I drove down the long road that goes past the university buildings and fields and into sparse suburbia. Every time its vibrant colours attracted my eye, and as I zipped past I would try to catch a glimpse of the school to which it surely belonged. I never could find one, so it was on my list of "things to investigate". But then one day I mentioned it and someone said, "Oh yeah, that's the Bible Hill Rec. Park. I take my kids there sometimes. It's pretty good." So I got excited.
The timing of learning about this park was ideal, because the very next week Brad started work and so I needed to take Gavin with me to Evelyn's gymnastics class. I'd taken him once before, and he likes to try to struggle through the open window to clamour into the very fun-looking gym, and then cry in frustration when I won't let him. This park happens to be very close to the gymnastics building, and especially excellent: it was a clear, sunny day. Meant to be!
So I checked out the park:
And it's pretty cool! But that wasn't the best part of my park adventure. The best part was the "other mother" who was also there.
Isn't it kind of crazy and funny how trying to make new friends is a little too pathetically similar to trying to find a husband? It was totally this whole melodramatic scene.
"From across the park, I spotted you instantly. I'd seen you before, at other playgroups, and I'd always wanted to say hello, but the moment never seemed right. Now, alone at the park together, I knew this was my chance, but I didn't know how to begin. Tentatively I stood at a distance, pretending to be playing with my son, but really looking to see if you'd noticed me--trying to seem casual; trying to look cool; trying to appear like an attentive mother who also is laid-back enough to let my toddler brave the play structure on his own; trying to think of a witty line; trying to find an excuse--anything--to come close enough to you to use it. Then, just as I'd given myself up to my fate of loneliness and solitude, providence! My son became jealous of the red-steel jeep that your son was climbing on. Slowly, I sauntered forward, hoping I didn't appear too eager, hoping you didn't just see right through my facade (and yet...hoping you would), and then...you spoke! We connected--chatted about childbirth, about sleep schedules, exchanged names even...and my morning was made."
See? Just change around the details to be a smoky room at a party where you connect with that hot guy you'd been eyeing for weeks and you've got a romance novel.
Anyway, so that was my exciting Thursday. I've decided to even incorporate the park into my playgroup (which has had a grand old people count of ME--unless you include my friend from church with a 6-month-old who drops by occassionally), so now we are really like you! Park rotation! One woman on the FB group who has seemed really eager lives in Bible Hill and appears not to have a vehicle to get her over to my side of town, so perhaps this switch will even land me a single regular playgroup attendee! One can only desperately pray (no it's not that bad for me. I'm just a wee bit concerned for Evelyn because her only friends are the older kids from church who go to school all day long, and the one boy her age moved away a couple weeks ago, which she was quite disappointed about).
One last bit of not-actually-news, but just to keep you muddled and confused, it is looking possible that our living-in-limbo full-time-schooling sentence may be shortened by yet another year. As Brad discusses with professors and students and professionals and employers, he seems to be leaning toward stopping school with the Bachelor's. He's mentioned it to me a few times over the past few weeks, which means it is something that may actually happen. I guess the types of things he can do with a Master's aren't necessarily any more exciting than what he can do with the Bachelor's, and actually may be a wee bit less interesting. So...that would be only two more years! Do you think the job at FVRD will still be available?
Love,
Jacqui
Wednesday 18 April 2012
Patience Was Never My Strong Suit...
Dear Jen,
I just needed to share that I am simply dying to paint my chicken coop! It's such a hideous eye sore that will make me feel so happy to look at when it's painted vibrant red with orange trim.
Did you know there are rules about painting temperature? Oh yes. Very strict. Apparently if I want a good result I have to wait until the OVERNIGHT temperature is above 10 degrees. Know what it's supposed to be tonight (this being a sunny day)? -4. Plus I'll need a couple of un-humid un-rainy days with said temperature restrictions for the stuff to dry.
Woe is me.
I bought paint in MARCH so I'd be ready the minute the weather agreed. I'm dying.
Anyway, look forward, because I will definitely be taking photos of my proud work.
Love,
Jacqui
PS Evelyn's got big plans to play at Harrison Lake this summer, so maybe we'll see you there!
I just needed to share that I am simply dying to paint my chicken coop! It's such a hideous eye sore that will make me feel so happy to look at when it's painted vibrant red with orange trim.
Did you know there are rules about painting temperature? Oh yes. Very strict. Apparently if I want a good result I have to wait until the OVERNIGHT temperature is above 10 degrees. Know what it's supposed to be tonight (this being a sunny day)? -4. Plus I'll need a couple of un-humid un-rainy days with said temperature restrictions for the stuff to dry.
Woe is me.
I bought paint in MARCH so I'd be ready the minute the weather agreed. I'm dying.
Anyway, look forward, because I will definitely be taking photos of my proud work.
Love,
Jacqui
PS Evelyn's got big plans to play at Harrison Lake this summer, so maybe we'll see you there!
Friday 6 April 2012
Dear Jen,
Last week I created something--something I've been meaning to get to for a long time, but was never motivated enough to actually pursue. I would think about it and research it and be excited about it but never find the memory space to actually schedule in a shopping trip for supplies, you know?
Anyway, when I create things, I get such a buzz I simply must share. Usually I would post to Facebook and allow all the praise and glory to stream in that way. But this creation, although it is one of the more exciting things I've made over the course of my life, is a wee bit more sensitive. I don't know...I guess maybe if there weren't any men on there I'd post regardless of how uncomfortable other women feel. But I suppose now that I see myself inching further and further into the Crazy Lady territory (I planned to withhold this from everyone except my close family who are generally as crazy as I am, but to demonstrate a point: I most recently cancelled all of my doctor/OB/ultrasound appointments and have no intention of scheduling any more) I desperately want to cling to any shred of relatability I have left with the common person.
All that to say, instead I am posting only here! Because I can't just not post. Telling you about it would not satisfy my excitement. I have to show you! Ok on to the thing:
So the other day I finally resigned myself to the likelihood that my pregnancy is going to wind up being one nine-month-long period (okay so the bleeding didn't start until like two months in, so a seven-month-long period), and that turned out to be the extra motivation I needed to find a pattern, get out to the fabric store, buy supplies, and sit down at my sewing machine to make fabric menstrual pads (I know, you can barely contain your excitement)! I don't know about your experience, but one day when I paid attention I realized that the disposable ones burn me. It's a mild burn, which is why I had to pay attention to figure out that the discomfort I felt was actually a burning, and seemed to be related to my pads. Makes sense too, since we all know that you can get that toxic shock thing from wearing them for too long--because they're TOXIC. I was talking to my sister about it the other day and she affirmed having a similar issue--except to her it feels after a few days like being punched in the crotch. It sounds very dramatic. Anyway, she also told me that she's pretty sure anyone she's ever discussed it with also has these sorts of problems with disposable pads. So...I guess it's normal. Anyway, at some point over a particularly long stretch of daily spotting (which is still going on. Like I said, pretty sure it's not going away) I was thinking about this burning itching discomfort, and became concerned about what new ailment I'd have to contend with if this really was caused by toxins and I was wearing these things non-stop for months on end--on top of the whole "bleeding pregnancy" issue. That's when I sat down at the computer with a pen and paper and searched for a pattern, for realz this time. And all that is why I am SO EXCITED about them!!!
Okay, here they are:
Last week I created something--something I've been meaning to get to for a long time, but was never motivated enough to actually pursue. I would think about it and research it and be excited about it but never find the memory space to actually schedule in a shopping trip for supplies, you know?
Anyway, when I create things, I get such a buzz I simply must share. Usually I would post to Facebook and allow all the praise and glory to stream in that way. But this creation, although it is one of the more exciting things I've made over the course of my life, is a wee bit more sensitive. I don't know...I guess maybe if there weren't any men on there I'd post regardless of how uncomfortable other women feel. But I suppose now that I see myself inching further and further into the Crazy Lady territory (I planned to withhold this from everyone except my close family who are generally as crazy as I am, but to demonstrate a point: I most recently cancelled all of my doctor/OB/ultrasound appointments and have no intention of scheduling any more) I desperately want to cling to any shred of relatability I have left with the common person.
All that to say, instead I am posting only here! Because I can't just not post. Telling you about it would not satisfy my excitement. I have to show you! Ok on to the thing:
So the other day I finally resigned myself to the likelihood that my pregnancy is going to wind up being one nine-month-long period (okay so the bleeding didn't start until like two months in, so a seven-month-long period), and that turned out to be the extra motivation I needed to find a pattern, get out to the fabric store, buy supplies, and sit down at my sewing machine to make fabric menstrual pads (I know, you can barely contain your excitement)! I don't know about your experience, but one day when I paid attention I realized that the disposable ones burn me. It's a mild burn, which is why I had to pay attention to figure out that the discomfort I felt was actually a burning, and seemed to be related to my pads. Makes sense too, since we all know that you can get that toxic shock thing from wearing them for too long--because they're TOXIC. I was talking to my sister about it the other day and she affirmed having a similar issue--except to her it feels after a few days like being punched in the crotch. It sounds very dramatic. Anyway, she also told me that she's pretty sure anyone she's ever discussed it with also has these sorts of problems with disposable pads. So...I guess it's normal. Anyway, at some point over a particularly long stretch of daily spotting (which is still going on. Like I said, pretty sure it's not going away) I was thinking about this burning itching discomfort, and became concerned about what new ailment I'd have to contend with if this really was caused by toxins and I was wearing these things non-stop for months on end--on top of the whole "bleeding pregnancy" issue. That's when I sat down at the computer with a pen and paper and searched for a pattern, for realz this time. And all that is why I am SO EXCITED about them!!!
Okay, here they are:
Actually this is just a sample. There are a lot more of those brown flannel things. But anyway, this is called the "circle pad". I selected it because it looked way easy to make--and it was! The circle is made out of two pieces of cotton with PUL fabric sandwiched between. You stick a couple snaps at two ends and that is where you wrap it under your underwear. The two straps sewn on are just fleece, which wicks moisture away really well, and they serve to hold the liners in place better. There's also a rectangle of fleece that you can put under the liners to prevent anything from soaking onto the cotton part (as easily, anyway). The liners are actually long strips of flannel that you fold up, and the reason for this is quick drying after you clean them. Best part: since I already cloth diaper, I just throw them in with that load and dry them at the same time. Sweet! AND it sure feels great having fabric against my skin (like any old day...) instead of toxicness. I've been using them for over a week now and they just make me so happy! Only problem was I found they slid back and forth a bit so I added another snap to the top of the circle and put the corresponding flat part right onto my underwear.
Oh! I should add that the icing on the cake is that I got most of the fabric on sale (except the PUL--that junk is ex-pensive!). Where the professionally-made ones retail at around $10 a-piece, I made mine (price of snaps and giant spool of thread included) for around $26. Can't beat that!
So there we are. My too-personal-for-Facebook-but-not-apparently-for-the-open-internet creation. I love creating! I was thinking maybe next I'll do a skirt for Evelyn.
Hope you're enjoying your Easter vacation trip!
Love,
Jacqui
Tuesday 20 March 2012
A Random Visit with Unexpected Results
Dear Jen,
So as you know the in-laws came, kind of suddenly, this weekend. Well, they have now went, even more suddenly. They were going to go into Halifax today (I think Brad was kind of looking forward to it), but instead, they left this morning at 4 am. Probably about 4 pm yesterday is when I started overhearing things like, "So I'm going to get up at 4:00" and, "I'm going to bring everything downstairs except what you're wearing tomorrow." I'm pretty smart so I put it together pretty quick.
Who knows why they left a day early. They gave their loose reasons, but the thing I do know is that Brad's father never was one for visiting long, and will always cut things short or cut them out altogether (hence why in the past 3.5 years this is the first time they've visited us, but probably the 8th plan to do so), so I'm not surprised. I just felt bad for Brad because I feel like he's always being let down by his parents in that respect, and this was just another time where I heard the genuine disappointment in his voice when once again a plan made with his parents was foregone with no discussion or warning.
Ah well. I thought Evelyn would be more upset because she just loved tagging along behind gramma, and especially being her smoking buddy (yay), but today was fortunately playgroup, so already all disappointment seems to have been forgotten.
Anyway, I'm just grateful that visits from the inlaws don't induce stress or exhaustion--so I try not to be annoyed by the little things. Plus they brought us our potties!
So as you know the in-laws came, kind of suddenly, this weekend. Well, they have now went, even more suddenly. They were going to go into Halifax today (I think Brad was kind of looking forward to it), but instead, they left this morning at 4 am. Probably about 4 pm yesterday is when I started overhearing things like, "So I'm going to get up at 4:00" and, "I'm going to bring everything downstairs except what you're wearing tomorrow." I'm pretty smart so I put it together pretty quick.
Who knows why they left a day early. They gave their loose reasons, but the thing I do know is that Brad's father never was one for visiting long, and will always cut things short or cut them out altogether (hence why in the past 3.5 years this is the first time they've visited us, but probably the 8th plan to do so), so I'm not surprised. I just felt bad for Brad because I feel like he's always being let down by his parents in that respect, and this was just another time where I heard the genuine disappointment in his voice when once again a plan made with his parents was foregone with no discussion or warning.
Ah well. I thought Evelyn would be more upset because she just loved tagging along behind gramma, and especially being her smoking buddy (yay), but today was fortunately playgroup, so already all disappointment seems to have been forgotten.
Anyway, I'm just grateful that visits from the inlaws don't induce stress or exhaustion--so I try not to be annoyed by the little things. Plus they brought us our potties!
(angel choir)
They are really basic, but that's good--we like basic. Our only criterion was that the front bump be big enough to catch his boy pee, and it is more than ample--definitely more coverage than any of the $20-$30 potties from the department stores. And all for $3 a-piece? Yes please! I tried to get Gavin to pose on it for a picture, but he wouldn't. I got Evelyn instead, although she's so tall that you don't really see how the kid sort of squats onto the potty. But just in case your kids like seeing mine as much as my kids like seeing yours, I thought I'd include it anyway:
(hi crazy-hair Evelyn!)
And now for the moment of difficulty. I have mulled this over in my mind and decided that if we are going to be real friends I shall have to share these sorts of things with you, even though there is a chance it might make you jealous (depending on your situation). Especially because I want to make sure you never leave things out to protect me from envy. You hear that Jen? I want it all. I can handle it.
SO: when we first got the potties, I tried to sit Gavin on one to show him what you do with it! Well, he freaked out and got angry and resisted, so I let it go. But I did have Evelyn sit on the potty for him to see, and after about a day of playing around with the thing, he started sitting on it. Sunday afternoon I decided to keep his diaper off, and mention to him with great frequency that if he needed to go pee or poo he should sit on his potty. Well...he did! I think it helped that he's been pooing on the big potty for several weeks, so he understood what I meant by "going on the potty". Monday morning he had his diaper off the whole time, peed a bunch, pooed a bunch, and had not a single accident (okay Brad's dad found a poo on the floor upstairs. But I don't count that because he doesn't really know where the potty upstairs is).
I just keep marvelling because he is only 18 months old! Evelyn trained by the time she was 22 months, I think, and to me that was early. Honestly I always hoped he would turn out like his cousins, Amy's 2nd and 3rd, who both self-trained at young ages. But I never dreamed of it being this early, and I was actually trying really hard to prepare myself for the likelihood of having two kids in diapers by the time the baby joined the family.
Nope! 18 months old and he's already got it down, and I'm not having a baby for another five months! Sweet! I am very happy with my curly-haired Gavin right now.
(this is the least terrible picture I could get out of him this morning)
Now to just work on getting him into a toddler bed! It may be sooner than I'd planned, too--while Brad's parents were visiting and Evelyn was sleeping in his room, Gavin learned how to crawl out of his crib. Oy!
Wednesday 7 March 2012
Somedays…
... we miss you more than other days.
“Mom? ‘Member dat other time we camed to the zoo and Ebawyn was here with Gabin and Jacqui & Brad? And I was a tiger and Ebawyn was a piggy and Daddy was there? And then we had fun and we played and played, and ran and ran and…”
“Yep… I remember”
“Mom? ‘Member dat other time we camed to the zoo and Ebawyn was here with Gabin and Jacqui & Brad? And I was a tiger and Ebawyn was a piggy and Daddy was there? And then we had fun and we played and played, and ran and ran and…”
“Yep… I remember”
Tuesday 6 March 2012
Trapped on a Desert Island with Only My Lap Top and a Printer
Dear Jen,
So I'm hiding up in Brad's dark office, coming up with random "important" tasks to perform on the computer to avoid going back downstairs, wishing that the Skype phone was up here so I could shut the door and secretly call you! Not that it's against the rules or anything, but when you have guests over, hiding out is one thing. Walking past them, turning on the Skype program, grabbing the phone and disappearing back upstairs is perhaps going just a little too far.
Not that it's all that bad. See, Brad is oh so friendly of a guy, so he can't help but unauthorizedly invite random school friends to our house for dinner on occasion. This time, it's the girls in his Cuba class, who heard we were getting baby chicks (oh yeah--by the way, we've got some newborn chicks living in a clear plastic bin on our dining room table. I'd take a picture for you if the camera weren't, you know, downstairs) and of course began cooing and fussing and saying how they just have to come see them when they're here! So, Brad invited them for supper.
And they're nice girls. And Brad tidied the house and made the supper and cleared the table. But they're also single, Animal Science girls who live in an apartment together and recently spent seven days straight with each other in Cuba, and also with Brad, who they also converse with during their weekly class. And I'm, well, a mom, of 2.5 kids. And I went to school for Theatre--six years ago. And the biggest thing on my mind right now is filing my tax return to see how much money I get back this year, to figure out whether it's enough to justify visiting you! And to be honest the chicks aren't even really my thing--they're Brad's thing. So normally I'd stick it out, and only casually check the clock wondering when I'll be left to my own little world again. But lately I've been foregoing my daily nap because of that second-trimester boost of energy, and the problem is that I may have more energy than before, but I'm still pregnant, so come 4:00 I start to get a wee bit sluggish.
Try making conversation with people you have nothing in common with who you anticipate never seeing again in your life when it's 7:00 and you've been sluggish since 4:00. Know what happens? You notice, when you're putting the kids to bed, how nice and quiet it is up here. And then you start thinking that maybe you ought to print that document before you go on down. And also perhaps you can just sneak a little scripture reading in since they're right next to your bed. And before you know it, it's been an hour and you are officially hiding out in the closet-office off your bedroom, wishing the book you're reading (The Help--more than half way!) was also upstairs. That's what happens.
And I don't even feel guilty. I just wish I had my Skype phone up here...
So I'm hiding up in Brad's dark office, coming up with random "important" tasks to perform on the computer to avoid going back downstairs, wishing that the Skype phone was up here so I could shut the door and secretly call you! Not that it's against the rules or anything, but when you have guests over, hiding out is one thing. Walking past them, turning on the Skype program, grabbing the phone and disappearing back upstairs is perhaps going just a little too far.
Not that it's all that bad. See, Brad is oh so friendly of a guy, so he can't help but unauthorizedly invite random school friends to our house for dinner on occasion. This time, it's the girls in his Cuba class, who heard we were getting baby chicks (oh yeah--by the way, we've got some newborn chicks living in a clear plastic bin on our dining room table. I'd take a picture for you if the camera weren't, you know, downstairs) and of course began cooing and fussing and saying how they just have to come see them when they're here! So, Brad invited them for supper.
And they're nice girls. And Brad tidied the house and made the supper and cleared the table. But they're also single, Animal Science girls who live in an apartment together and recently spent seven days straight with each other in Cuba, and also with Brad, who they also converse with during their weekly class. And I'm, well, a mom, of 2.5 kids. And I went to school for Theatre--six years ago. And the biggest thing on my mind right now is filing my tax return to see how much money I get back this year, to figure out whether it's enough to justify visiting you! And to be honest the chicks aren't even really my thing--they're Brad's thing. So normally I'd stick it out, and only casually check the clock wondering when I'll be left to my own little world again. But lately I've been foregoing my daily nap because of that second-trimester boost of energy, and the problem is that I may have more energy than before, but I'm still pregnant, so come 4:00 I start to get a wee bit sluggish.
Try making conversation with people you have nothing in common with who you anticipate never seeing again in your life when it's 7:00 and you've been sluggish since 4:00. Know what happens? You notice, when you're putting the kids to bed, how nice and quiet it is up here. And then you start thinking that maybe you ought to print that document before you go on down. And also perhaps you can just sneak a little scripture reading in since they're right next to your bed. And before you know it, it's been an hour and you are officially hiding out in the closet-office off your bedroom, wishing the book you're reading (The Help--more than half way!) was also upstairs. That's what happens.
And I don't even feel guilty. I just wish I had my Skype phone up here...
Saturday 3 March 2012
Real Men Shoot Rats in House Coats
Dear Jen,
So, I know we've been talking about my little rat-in-the-roof problem lately. For two days in a row since the original offense and Brad's subsequent tossing of poison cubes up there I hadn't heard a thing and so I assumed the issue was resolved.
Last night, however, turned out to be an eventful night.
For some reason, I had given myself one of those weird shoulder muscle nerve pinches the previous night just by merit of sleeping. Ever have those? It happens sometimes. The unique thing about this one though, is that it progressively got worse throughout the day, until by bedtime the pain was not only shooting through to my chest and numbing my arm, but also all the way up into my neck. I don't know why--my guess is that, having had my sleep disturbed by Evelyn I really needed a nap that day, and since I didn't, my physical ailment punished me by inflaming itself.
Anyway, the point of all that is to explain that I slept very uncomfortably last night--lightly. This is why, at 2:00 am, I was wakened by the lightest scritch scritch scratching above my head. Groaning, I tried to ignore it, but just couldn't! So I did the only reasonable thing a person could do: got out of bed, grabbed the nearest book, and started smacking at the ceiling. Somehow this woke Brad up.
Nothing wakes Brad up.
He mumbled, "What are you doing?" "That stinkin' rat is scratching!" I said, getting back under the sheets. Brad goes back to sleep. I try to go back to sleep. Minutes go by, no sound. I think maybe I've scared it off. But then, just as my mind is beginning to drift again:
scritch scritch scratch.
I wanted to die. I huffily got out of bed, retrieved the "upstairs" broom (yup, we're fancy like that. Or mostly lazy. And our landlords left a broom behind), knocked it at the ceiling a couple times, set it beside the bed, and laid back down. The rat and I went through this dance for a few more minutes: it would be silent for a while, I would begin to drift, it would start back up with the scritch scritch scratching, I would grab my broom and knock it on the ceiling, and it would stop again. Until suddenly Brad got up, throwing his robe on.
"Where are you going?" I asked. "To get my gun!" he replied, then proceeded to stomp around the house for half an hour scouring for his pellet gun. Eventually he returned with the gun and a stool. He loaded the gun, placed the stool under the attic entrance, then looked around for a bit till he found a long piece of wood. "This'll do for a ladder." he said, and propped it on top of the stool. Before he made his outrageous and precarious climb, he paused, considered, and said, "Would this be considered something your grampa would do?"
See, because we have this running joke that Brad is just as ridiculous as my grampa. We discovered it at grampa's funeral when Brad identified with over half of the outrageous and hilarious stories my dad told about him in his eulogy. To give you an idea, my grampa is the sort of man who lost half a finger because his snow blower got clogged up, so he flipped it over without turning it off and started picking away at stuff with his hand! They'd have gotten along swimmingly.
Anyway, so he said to me, "Would this be considered something your grampa would do?" I didn't have to pause. "Yes." So then instead of the scritch scritch scratching of the rat, I got to listen to the padding of Brad's feet above my head, and the occassional rustle, and then a couple shots.
He didn't get it or anything. But it didn't come back the rest of the night! Took me another hour and a half to get back to sleep though. All too exciting.
Old houses are fun! We do have to tell the landlord though, because our suspicions were confirmed: the rodent was tearing away at the insulation, presumably to make a nest. And even if we get rid of this one, if there's a hole for something to enter through it's just going to keep happening and the insulation is going to get wrecked. Plus we only noticed this one because it was stupid enough to go right on top of our heads.
Anyway...fun night. In other news, I'm pretty excited about this:
So, I know we've been talking about my little rat-in-the-roof problem lately. For two days in a row since the original offense and Brad's subsequent tossing of poison cubes up there I hadn't heard a thing and so I assumed the issue was resolved.
Last night, however, turned out to be an eventful night.
For some reason, I had given myself one of those weird shoulder muscle nerve pinches the previous night just by merit of sleeping. Ever have those? It happens sometimes. The unique thing about this one though, is that it progressively got worse throughout the day, until by bedtime the pain was not only shooting through to my chest and numbing my arm, but also all the way up into my neck. I don't know why--my guess is that, having had my sleep disturbed by Evelyn I really needed a nap that day, and since I didn't, my physical ailment punished me by inflaming itself.
Anyway, the point of all that is to explain that I slept very uncomfortably last night--lightly. This is why, at 2:00 am, I was wakened by the lightest scritch scritch scratching above my head. Groaning, I tried to ignore it, but just couldn't! So I did the only reasonable thing a person could do: got out of bed, grabbed the nearest book, and started smacking at the ceiling. Somehow this woke Brad up.
Nothing wakes Brad up.
He mumbled, "What are you doing?" "That stinkin' rat is scratching!" I said, getting back under the sheets. Brad goes back to sleep. I try to go back to sleep. Minutes go by, no sound. I think maybe I've scared it off. But then, just as my mind is beginning to drift again:
scritch scritch scratch.
I wanted to die. I huffily got out of bed, retrieved the "upstairs" broom (yup, we're fancy like that. Or mostly lazy. And our landlords left a broom behind), knocked it at the ceiling a couple times, set it beside the bed, and laid back down. The rat and I went through this dance for a few more minutes: it would be silent for a while, I would begin to drift, it would start back up with the scritch scritch scratching, I would grab my broom and knock it on the ceiling, and it would stop again. Until suddenly Brad got up, throwing his robe on.
"Where are you going?" I asked. "To get my gun!" he replied, then proceeded to stomp around the house for half an hour scouring for his pellet gun. Eventually he returned with the gun and a stool. He loaded the gun, placed the stool under the attic entrance, then looked around for a bit till he found a long piece of wood. "This'll do for a ladder." he said, and propped it on top of the stool. Before he made his outrageous and precarious climb, he paused, considered, and said, "Would this be considered something your grampa would do?"
See, because we have this running joke that Brad is just as ridiculous as my grampa. We discovered it at grampa's funeral when Brad identified with over half of the outrageous and hilarious stories my dad told about him in his eulogy. To give you an idea, my grampa is the sort of man who lost half a finger because his snow blower got clogged up, so he flipped it over without turning it off and started picking away at stuff with his hand! They'd have gotten along swimmingly.
Anyway, so he said to me, "Would this be considered something your grampa would do?" I didn't have to pause. "Yes." So then instead of the scritch scritch scratching of the rat, I got to listen to the padding of Brad's feet above my head, and the occassional rustle, and then a couple shots.
He didn't get it or anything. But it didn't come back the rest of the night! Took me another hour and a half to get back to sleep though. All too exciting.
Old houses are fun! We do have to tell the landlord though, because our suspicions were confirmed: the rodent was tearing away at the insulation, presumably to make a nest. And even if we get rid of this one, if there's a hole for something to enter through it's just going to keep happening and the insulation is going to get wrecked. Plus we only noticed this one because it was stupid enough to go right on top of our heads.
Anyway...fun night. In other news, I'm pretty excited about this:
For some unexplained reason, over the past two weeks I've added like ten members! I'm encouraged for the good weather--I think maybe, maybe with this much interest I'll start getting a couple more people coming once we're back at the park. I'm cautious, yet hopeful! And excited! Isn't it strange how these people don't even know me or care about me, and yet since I'm the one who started the group, I still feel popular and successful! This must be how you feel every day, you fancy playgroup lady. Right?
So...hope you have a good night's sleep tonight, like I'm praying for!
Love,
Jacqui
Friday 24 February 2012
“Elephant” in the Room
I bet you’re wondering (hope you’re wondering!) which pregnancy I am posting a picture of… especially since the midwife confirmed yesterday that I am not due until Sept 10 which means if that if this picture was from this pregnancy, I would have taken it when I was only 11w2d… and that just seems ridiculous. Especially when most woman wait until 12 weeks before making an announcement, and clearly I look like I went to McDonald’s, ordered one of everything and then washed it down with two sodas.
Whatever. I guess I just wanted to be “just like you” and “pretend” I was 6 weeks further by binge eating. (& then throwing it up, but apparently that part doesn’t count)
Sooooo…. it is probably safe to say that I won’t be publically posting any pictures of this pregnancy until the weeks catch up to the belly.
& I am probably never going to wear this shirt again.
Love, Jen
Thursday 23 February 2012
Sneaky Sneaky
Dear Jen,
You are in big trouble for being too good of a friend. One day I will find a way to retaliate.
Sneaky sneaky.
PS myself and also all of the other ladies in Truro are SO excited to read the book. A borrowing schedule is already being devised.
PPS you know, this is sort of like when I sent the missionaries to you with my package because Sharon did at some point randomly share the monthly Relief Society visiting teaching message (something about fulfilling the divine role of women no matter our life circumstances) at our ladies night tonight. Except your package is much tastier.
You are in big trouble for being too good of a friend. One day I will find a way to retaliate.
Sneaky sneaky.
PS myself and also all of the other ladies in Truro are SO excited to read the book. A borrowing schedule is already being devised.
PPS you know, this is sort of like when I sent the missionaries to you with my package because Sharon did at some point randomly share the monthly Relief Society visiting teaching message (something about fulfilling the divine role of women no matter our life circumstances) at our ladies night tonight. Except your package is much tastier.
Thursday 16 February 2012
Sharing the Excitement
Dear Jen,
Just over three months into this pregnancy and already it's the craziest so far. I guess I need to qualify that by saying that my pregnancies haven't really been all that crazy--I had the one first-trimester miscarriage, and then with Gavin I had some random spotting at 5 months which was quickly put into perspective by a google search, but that's it! So not to say it has been anything to compare to Marci's incompetent cervix and frequent labour scares for instance, but still I find myself hoping and praying things don't become any more eventful, and that I never have the privilege of topping this in any future pregnancies!
So you know, perhaps vaguely (I can't remember how much we talked about it), that I had the miscarriage scare a few weeks ago with gushes of blood and day-long cramping. Well, lucky me, I just went through miscarriage scare #2! Once again I felt, considering the circumstances, that there was no way I was keeping this baby. But now, the next day, after some research, some prayer, and a blessing from Brad, I am once again hopeful that this is all just a scary manifestation of a, truly, minor problem.
Did I tell you the accepted theory on the last one? I had an ultrasound and my doctor told me that they had found something with a fancy long medical name that basically means there was a hemmorage between the placenta and uterus. Not that they're detached (which would equal dead baby), but the connection is, shall we say, not as secure as could be desired (which can heal and be a total non-issue down the line, by the way).
SO, although I won't have a chance to discuss this with my doctor till Tuesday, I have a theory based on the evidence that makes this second scare just a Grand Finale of the first. I should disclaim that most people probably would consider this too disgusting for the Open Internet, but to me, this is part of making a child, so I hope you don't find it too unrefined to put it out in writing. It's a big part of my experience right now! Obviously even when I'm not having these problems, they're a menacing concern in the back of my mind.
The scare was more blood--thick, red-brown, gushing blood. And cramps--mild, but persistent cramps in my lower right abdomen that feel like exercise cramps (you know, when you swim too hard or run too fast) that once again lasted for a full day. It was freaky. I called Brad to tell him not to dawdle at school because I was worried I'd have to rush to the hospital (in fact I technically should have gone to the hospital, if I had been following my doctor's instructions properly. But I know too much about emergency wait times and pregnancy and miscarriage to bother unless I felt it was SERIOUS), and I dropped everything to spend the rest of my afternoon seated firmly on the couch--no moving (good thing Evelyn is so independant and useful!).
My original thought was: "this is happening a second time, and with greater volume, this has to be a very very bad sign. I cannot see how my pregnancy can recover normally from this." I once again set my mind to accepting an un-pregnant existence, and the lack of a baby to welcome into our family any time in the near future (which, since re-evaluating my attitude after the last scare, I'm getting pretty excited about). Last night was rough, because I woke up (as is common these days) to go to the bathroom around 2:30, and with the cramps and bleeding still present, I got a little more freaked out. No position was comfortable and I kept wondering if I should get up right then and head off to Emerg. I didn't, mostly because I realized a qualified ultrasound technician probably wouldn't even be on staff at that hour, so once again, unless I was in dire circumstances, there was no point. Instead I eventually drifted off into fitful rest, and had three separate dreams about the same thing: I wait forever at the hospital, until finally, I miscarry in a dramatic scene. Each time I would wake up from the dream that had felt so real I would need to take a moment to convince myself that for the time being I was still pregnant before I could settle back into another tortured dream.
BUT, like I said, research and blessing have calmed my mind, and the diminished cramping and absence of bleeding today have put into my mind a more positive theory:
Okay so you know how when you aren't pregnant, your body accumulates all this stuff, and then once a month it opens up and evacuates it all, and this is what we call a "menstrual cycle"? Well, what if this gush was left over in my body from the original wound, waiting for the regular "period" time? It works mathematically: pregnancy calculations are based off of a 28-day cycle, which means that every four weeks the cycle would end. I happen to be at week 16, as determined by ultrasound--a fourth week. Also that would explain the difference in colour and consisency. The first time it was bright red--freaky in its own right. But not this time. And brown is an indication of old blood. Also, I have heard many times of people getting a full on period well into their healthy pregnancy. Maybe, then, if your body has something to get rid of that isn't urgent, it waits for that natural cycle, pregnant or not. And maybe, then, this second round of concerning blood loss doesn't mean that my baby is dying because my body is failing it.
It's been a tense 24 hours, but I am feeling hopeful--and like I said, hoping I don't have any more stories to top it.
We'll talk on the phone sometime next week after my appointment and I can tell you what my doctor thinks of my crazy theory!
Love,
Jacqui
Just over three months into this pregnancy and already it's the craziest so far. I guess I need to qualify that by saying that my pregnancies haven't really been all that crazy--I had the one first-trimester miscarriage, and then with Gavin I had some random spotting at 5 months which was quickly put into perspective by a google search, but that's it! So not to say it has been anything to compare to Marci's incompetent cervix and frequent labour scares for instance, but still I find myself hoping and praying things don't become any more eventful, and that I never have the privilege of topping this in any future pregnancies!
So you know, perhaps vaguely (I can't remember how much we talked about it), that I had the miscarriage scare a few weeks ago with gushes of blood and day-long cramping. Well, lucky me, I just went through miscarriage scare #2! Once again I felt, considering the circumstances, that there was no way I was keeping this baby. But now, the next day, after some research, some prayer, and a blessing from Brad, I am once again hopeful that this is all just a scary manifestation of a, truly, minor problem.
Did I tell you the accepted theory on the last one? I had an ultrasound and my doctor told me that they had found something with a fancy long medical name that basically means there was a hemmorage between the placenta and uterus. Not that they're detached (which would equal dead baby), but the connection is, shall we say, not as secure as could be desired (which can heal and be a total non-issue down the line, by the way).
SO, although I won't have a chance to discuss this with my doctor till Tuesday, I have a theory based on the evidence that makes this second scare just a Grand Finale of the first. I should disclaim that most people probably would consider this too disgusting for the Open Internet, but to me, this is part of making a child, so I hope you don't find it too unrefined to put it out in writing. It's a big part of my experience right now! Obviously even when I'm not having these problems, they're a menacing concern in the back of my mind.
The scare was more blood--thick, red-brown, gushing blood. And cramps--mild, but persistent cramps in my lower right abdomen that feel like exercise cramps (you know, when you swim too hard or run too fast) that once again lasted for a full day. It was freaky. I called Brad to tell him not to dawdle at school because I was worried I'd have to rush to the hospital (in fact I technically should have gone to the hospital, if I had been following my doctor's instructions properly. But I know too much about emergency wait times and pregnancy and miscarriage to bother unless I felt it was SERIOUS), and I dropped everything to spend the rest of my afternoon seated firmly on the couch--no moving (good thing Evelyn is so independant and useful!).
My original thought was: "this is happening a second time, and with greater volume, this has to be a very very bad sign. I cannot see how my pregnancy can recover normally from this." I once again set my mind to accepting an un-pregnant existence, and the lack of a baby to welcome into our family any time in the near future (which, since re-evaluating my attitude after the last scare, I'm getting pretty excited about). Last night was rough, because I woke up (as is common these days) to go to the bathroom around 2:30, and with the cramps and bleeding still present, I got a little more freaked out. No position was comfortable and I kept wondering if I should get up right then and head off to Emerg. I didn't, mostly because I realized a qualified ultrasound technician probably wouldn't even be on staff at that hour, so once again, unless I was in dire circumstances, there was no point. Instead I eventually drifted off into fitful rest, and had three separate dreams about the same thing: I wait forever at the hospital, until finally, I miscarry in a dramatic scene. Each time I would wake up from the dream that had felt so real I would need to take a moment to convince myself that for the time being I was still pregnant before I could settle back into another tortured dream.
BUT, like I said, research and blessing have calmed my mind, and the diminished cramping and absence of bleeding today have put into my mind a more positive theory:
Okay so you know how when you aren't pregnant, your body accumulates all this stuff, and then once a month it opens up and evacuates it all, and this is what we call a "menstrual cycle"? Well, what if this gush was left over in my body from the original wound, waiting for the regular "period" time? It works mathematically: pregnancy calculations are based off of a 28-day cycle, which means that every four weeks the cycle would end. I happen to be at week 16, as determined by ultrasound--a fourth week. Also that would explain the difference in colour and consisency. The first time it was bright red--freaky in its own right. But not this time. And brown is an indication of old blood. Also, I have heard many times of people getting a full on period well into their healthy pregnancy. Maybe, then, if your body has something to get rid of that isn't urgent, it waits for that natural cycle, pregnant or not. And maybe, then, this second round of concerning blood loss doesn't mean that my baby is dying because my body is failing it.
It's been a tense 24 hours, but I am feeling hopeful--and like I said, hoping I don't have any more stories to top it.
We'll talk on the phone sometime next week after my appointment and I can tell you what my doctor thinks of my crazy theory!
Love,
Jacqui
Wednesday 15 February 2012
Days Like Today
Dear Jen,
Today is just one of those days that I wish I hadn't made the "responsible" choice to forego our trip to visit you in the name of "not living on the street" or some foolish thing to that end.
My experience always has been that it is therapeutic, when you move far away, to visit your old home within a year of leaving. Wait longer and people start forgetting who you are, but don't go at all and it is just a wee bit hard on your system.
And yes, I may have been perusing my old journal just a little today.
Shouldn't do that. Actually it's ironic because my motivation for perusing was to find one of those "newly moved, still no meaningful relationships, feeling isolated" entries to boost me from my knowledge of how I felt about my life within just a year of feeling that way. Unfortunately this particular book didn't go quite far enough back! So instead of encouragement I am left with wistfulness. Silly book.
Today is just one of those days that I wish I hadn't made the "responsible" choice to forego our trip to visit you in the name of "not living on the street" or some foolish thing to that end.
My experience always has been that it is therapeutic, when you move far away, to visit your old home within a year of leaving. Wait longer and people start forgetting who you are, but don't go at all and it is just a wee bit hard on your system.
And yes, I may have been perusing my old journal just a little today.
Shouldn't do that. Actually it's ironic because my motivation for perusing was to find one of those "newly moved, still no meaningful relationships, feeling isolated" entries to boost me from my knowledge of how I felt about my life within just a year of feeling that way. Unfortunately this particular book didn't go quite far enough back! So instead of encouragement I am left with wistfulness. Silly book.
Isn't it appropriate that this is one of the maybe two photos of us together? You're blurry and I'm completely blocked by a baby!
Don't worry or anything though, I have come up with a blues-combatting plan: I will make bread today--first time in weeks, and I cannot tell you how sick I am of store bought bread. Should be good.
Love,
Jacqui
Thursday 9 February 2012
Things I Can't Believe I'm This Excited About
Dear Jen,
Item #124 on my list of Things I Can't Believe I'm This Excited About:
Hearing my 17-month-old tug at his diaper and say, "Buep" to me--before the poop has even exited his little bum to settle into the diaper.
To me, this means a big step toward the hallowed POTTY TRAINED status! He recognized and advertised his bowel movement before it even appeared!
Oh the life of a mother...
The story is even more exciting though, because I took advantage of our proximity to the toilet to carry him carefully over, pull down his diaper, and sit him on it. He was pretty freaked out, but fortunately by then the "event" was beyond, shall we say, retraction. So it plopped blessedly into the bowl, I didn't have to clean a dirty bum, and Gavin was mildly fascinated by seeing his masterpiece in the toilet where he had previously [repulsively] investigated everyone else's.
Here's an even better part to my disgusting yet exciting story: today he came up to me and just kind of stood there--you know what I mean--and I said, "Do you have to poopie?" He acknowledged my comment, "Buep." and I checked his diaper, seeing nothing, but smelling something funky going on. So I said, "Well, I don't know if it's just my imagination, but let's go sit on the potty!" So we went over, he sat--with less protest than yesterday--and then I watched him exert his little abdominal muscles to once again poop into the potty! I showed him again, did a high-five, cheered, told daddy, who gave him more high-fives and cheers, and I am basking in my second day in a row of no poopie diapers!
Not saying I plan on having a fully potty trained 18-month-old or anything. I am aware that the only thing that has made both these successes possible was my happening to be in the viscinity and attentive at the time (both of which I cannot guarantee to be the case at any random point in the day). But getting them to understand that you have to do that thing into there is half the battle, right?
I completely have the probably unrealistic goal of Gavin potty training himself like both my nephews (who had siblings only a little older than themselves using the toilet) did.
Cheer for the team!
Item #124 on my list of Things I Can't Believe I'm This Excited About:
Hearing my 17-month-old tug at his diaper and say, "Buep" to me--before the poop has even exited his little bum to settle into the diaper.
To me, this means a big step toward the hallowed POTTY TRAINED status! He recognized and advertised his bowel movement before it even appeared!
Oh the life of a mother...
The story is even more exciting though, because I took advantage of our proximity to the toilet to carry him carefully over, pull down his diaper, and sit him on it. He was pretty freaked out, but fortunately by then the "event" was beyond, shall we say, retraction. So it plopped blessedly into the bowl, I didn't have to clean a dirty bum, and Gavin was mildly fascinated by seeing his masterpiece in the toilet where he had previously [repulsively] investigated everyone else's.
Here's an even better part to my disgusting yet exciting story: today he came up to me and just kind of stood there--you know what I mean--and I said, "Do you have to poopie?" He acknowledged my comment, "Buep." and I checked his diaper, seeing nothing, but smelling something funky going on. So I said, "Well, I don't know if it's just my imagination, but let's go sit on the potty!" So we went over, he sat--with less protest than yesterday--and then I watched him exert his little abdominal muscles to once again poop into the potty! I showed him again, did a high-five, cheered, told daddy, who gave him more high-fives and cheers, and I am basking in my second day in a row of no poopie diapers!
Not saying I plan on having a fully potty trained 18-month-old or anything. I am aware that the only thing that has made both these successes possible was my happening to be in the viscinity and attentive at the time (both of which I cannot guarantee to be the case at any random point in the day). But getting them to understand that you have to do that thing into there is half the battle, right?
I completely have the probably unrealistic goal of Gavin potty training himself like both my nephews (who had siblings only a little older than themselves using the toilet) did.
Cheer for the team!
Friday 3 February 2012
Dear Jacqui,
So relieved for you! Here is my fav verse for these first few weeks of pregnancy, when you feel like crap, but that's about it...
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. - Heb 11:1
I realize that I may be stretching the context slightly (or not...) but I have it written on a frame that I have put each of my babes ultrasound pics in. It encourages me... having faith & trusting God that there is indeed a babe in there even though there is nothing (yet) for me to physically see and trusting him or her to His care.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
- Psalm 139:13-18... but for fun, go read the whole thing :)
Praying for happy & healthy months are ahead for our little ones... (Far apart, yet destined to be "besties")
Love, Jen
P.S. MASEN & ZACH SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
P.P.S. I'm thinking these two will be about 4 weeks apart... My super-competitive nature thinks we will need a "baby pool" closer too...
P.P.P.S. Avoid "Dr. Google" at ALL costs! He'll make you crazy!
So relieved for you! Here is my fav verse for these first few weeks of pregnancy, when you feel like crap, but that's about it...
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. - Heb 11:1
I realize that I may be stretching the context slightly (or not...) but I have it written on a frame that I have put each of my babes ultrasound pics in. It encourages me... having faith & trusting God that there is indeed a babe in there even though there is nothing (yet) for me to physically see and trusting him or her to His care.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
- Psalm 139:13-18... but for fun, go read the whole thing :)
Praying for happy & healthy months are ahead for our little ones... (Far apart, yet destined to be "besties")
Love, Jen
P.S. MASEN & ZACH SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
P.P.S. I'm thinking these two will be about 4 weeks apart... My super-competitive nature thinks we will need a "baby pool" closer too...
P.P.P.S. Avoid "Dr. Google" at ALL costs! He'll make you crazy!
Early August
Dear Jen,
Just thought I'd take a quick moment, after having talked about my near-miscarriage experience last week, to let you know the fruits of my ultrasound appointment today:
1. Baby appears normal as normal can be. Saw a spine and heartbeat and everything.
2. Baby is not ectopic, which I had almost convinced myself of today when I felt some sharp cramping in my lower abdomen--I decided (bad idea) to do a little research. Barely evaded fainting by reaching the couch just in the nick of time! Phew! Now I'm pretty sure I remember having the same pains last pregnancy, which the midwife cracked up to being ligament stretching.
3. I am about 14 weeks along.
Glad I've done this three times before, because I chose, in light of comfort, to follow the bladder filling instructions very loosely and it was an altogether quick and pleasant experience!
Yay for healthy babies! Here's praying you can find yourself some more regular sleep so you can be a healthy mom!
Love,
Jacqui
Just thought I'd take a quick moment, after having talked about my near-miscarriage experience last week, to let you know the fruits of my ultrasound appointment today:
1. Baby appears normal as normal can be. Saw a spine and heartbeat and everything.
2. Baby is not ectopic, which I had almost convinced myself of today when I felt some sharp cramping in my lower abdomen--I decided (bad idea) to do a little research. Barely evaded fainting by reaching the couch just in the nick of time! Phew! Now I'm pretty sure I remember having the same pains last pregnancy, which the midwife cracked up to being ligament stretching.
3. I am about 14 weeks along.
Glad I've done this three times before, because I chose, in light of comfort, to follow the bladder filling instructions very loosely and it was an altogether quick and pleasant experience!
Yay for healthy babies! Here's praying you can find yourself some more regular sleep so you can be a healthy mom!
Love,
Jacqui
Thursday 2 February 2012
The "Mercenaries"
Dear Jacqui,
Once upon a time, there was a magnificent person named "Jan" who was having a "less than magnificent" day...
Her (not quite a) baby had been up several times in the night and her toddler had gotten up at 5:07 AM.
For the day.
Did I mention Jan was also battling fatigue and nausea from the inconvenience of having a third child?
After enjoying a little morning conversation with her far away friend "Mackie", she hung up the phone with the intention of getting her littles ready to go swimming. Her strategy was simple... take them out to hopefully make them as tired as she was to ensure a quiet afternoon.
Notentirely at all successful.
While getting the (not quite a) baby ready for swimming, he puked.
Great.
Swimming was cancelled and Jan swiftly rerouted to "plan B"... lay on the couch, liberal use of the tv, feel bad for herself.
Imagine Jan's surprise at 11 AM when two men showed up on her doorstep and refused to leave... continually ringing the door bell.
I bet you know who this is...
The Jehovah Witnesses. Back again.
Jan opened the door a smudge, careful to conceal her own body odour and the (mostly naked) toddler behind her and with a polite smile explained that they were a little "under the weather" but that they should "all come back now, ya hear?"
Happy that was over, Jan slunk back into the house and "whipped up" a lunch delicacy consisting of fruit leather, crackers & cheese. Fine dining at it's best.
Knowing that this day would never end, yet hoping it would, Jan decided to put the (not quite a) baby down for an early rest.
Jan lay down on the couch and closed her eyes hoping that sleep would soon consume her body.
Scratching and rustling noises begin. Signalling to her (mostly naked) toddler that "Mommy" was sleeping, she shut her eyes tighter.
Scratch, Rustle, THUMP.
Realizing that the toddler wasn't moving and remembering the mouse-that-coulda-been a-rat that took up residence in the garage (until being axe murdered by Mr. Magnificent) Jan shot up and tried to bravely follow the source of the noise.
Her worst nightmare ensued.
One dead and one not-so-dead something in the fireplace.
She let out a (very brave) bloody curdling scream.
Feeling conflicted if she should call 911 or her husband, she called the neighbour... and then her husband... and then 911. (Okay, maybe not 911... but she did consider it)
Despite the fact that the (mostly naked) toddler was completely glued to the tv screen, all the excitement wakes the (not quite a) baby up. And he poops.
Jan heroically blocks up the fireplace and heads to the bedroom to fight whatever monsters await her in the (not quite a) baby's diaper.
It seems as though the morning's puking had represented itself in a new form.
Jan (not so heroically) makes a run for the toilet.
While in the bathroom, incessant knocking starts on the front door. "Moooom!" Calls (mostly naked) toddler from the front window. "It's two men at da door and dere knocking for you!"
Convinced it is those darn "Jehovah Witnesses" coming back to further torture "stinky barf Mom"... AKA "Jan"... she whips open the door exposing her stinky wretched self, house, crying (not quite a) baby and (mostly naked) toddler. (Perhaps with the intention to give them a little piece of her mind... "Hello?! By "later" I meant like "in a year".... not like "2 hours!")
Do you know who it is?!
Oh no you didn'!!
That's right "Mackie"... your two little friends brought by your little message.
So Jan did what any other "Mormoniest Non-Mormon" you'd ever met would do... she invited them to come in...
... another time. (Perhaps one when they were all dressed and had brushed their teeth... and maybe even the kids were sleeping!)
Love, Jen
P.S. You ARE reading this right... The Missionaries you sent in lieu of the Witnesses did indeed come on the same day the Witnesses came back! Eek!
P.P.S & We're still friends... for now. (dun, dun, DUN!)
Once upon a time, there was a magnificent person named "Jan" who was having a "less than magnificent" day...
Her (not quite a) baby had been up several times in the night and her toddler had gotten up at 5:07 AM.
For the day.
Did I mention Jan was also battling fatigue and nausea from the inconvenience of having a third child?
Not
While getting the (not quite a) baby ready for swimming, he puked.
Great.
Swimming was cancelled and Jan swiftly rerouted to "plan B"... lay on the couch, liberal use of the tv, feel bad for herself.
Imagine Jan's surprise at 11 AM when two men showed up on her doorstep and refused to leave... continually ringing the door bell.
I bet you know who this is...
The Jehovah Witnesses. Back again.
Jan opened the door a smudge, careful to conceal her own body odour and the (mostly naked) toddler behind her and with a polite smile explained that they were a little "under the weather" but that they should "all come back now, ya hear?"
Happy that was over, Jan slunk back into the house and "whipped up" a lunch delicacy consisting of fruit leather, crackers & cheese. Fine dining at it's best.
Knowing that this day would never end, yet hoping it would, Jan decided to put the (not quite a) baby down for an early rest.
Jan lay down on the couch and closed her eyes hoping that sleep would soon consume her body.
Scratching and rustling noises begin. Signalling to her (mostly naked) toddler that "Mommy" was sleeping, she shut her eyes tighter.
Scratch, Rustle, THUMP.
Realizing that the toddler wasn't moving and remembering the mouse-that-coulda-been a-rat that took up residence in the garage (until being axe murdered by Mr. Magnificent) Jan shot up and tried to bravely follow the source of the noise.
Her worst nightmare ensued.
One dead and one not-so-dead something in the fireplace.
She let out a (very brave) bloody curdling scream.
Feeling conflicted if she should call 911 or her husband, she called the neighbour... and then her husband... and then 911. (Okay, maybe not 911... but she did consider it)
Despite the fact that the (mostly naked) toddler was completely glued to the tv screen, all the excitement wakes the (not quite a) baby up. And he poops.
Jan heroically blocks up the fireplace and heads to the bedroom to fight whatever monsters await her in the (not quite a) baby's diaper.
It seems as though the morning's puking had represented itself in a new form.
Jan (not so heroically) makes a run for the toilet.
While in the bathroom, incessant knocking starts on the front door. "Moooom!" Calls (mostly naked) toddler from the front window. "It's two men at da door and dere knocking for you!"
Convinced it is those darn "Jehovah Witnesses" coming back to further torture "stinky barf Mom"... AKA "Jan"... she whips open the door exposing her stinky wretched self, house, crying (not quite a) baby and (mostly naked) toddler. (Perhaps with the intention to give them a little piece of her mind... "Hello?! By "later" I meant like "in a year".... not like "2 hours!")
Do you know who it is?!
Oh no you didn'!!
That's right "Mackie"... your two little friends brought by your little message.
So Jan did what any other "Mormoniest Non-Mormon" you'd ever met would do... she invited them to come in...
... another time. (Perhaps one when they were all dressed and had brushed their teeth... and maybe even the kids were sleeping!)
Love, Jen
P.S. You ARE reading this right... The Missionaries you sent in lieu of the Witnesses did indeed come on the same day the Witnesses came back! Eek!
P.P.S & We're still friends... for now. (dun, dun, DUN!)
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