Mummy brain: not just for mummies anymore

Some of you may not know that John is currently on parental leave. This means, for those non-Canadians out there, that he is receiving employment insurance from the government plus "top-up" from his employer so that he is receiving 95% of his salary (not all employers do this... but the large ones - and nice ones - often do) for something like 30 weeks of leave. He's at home with us until April. Pretty sweet. And some of you Americans actually complain about a socialist state? Puh-lease. It's pretty great from where I'm sitting.

Anyhoo... so John is fully participating in getting the girls off to school, lunches made, cleaning done, all those lovely domestic chores that occupy a mummy's brain for a good part of the day. He's still squeezing in a bit of writing and is on campus a couple of times a week but he is most definitely on parental leave.

And this was very obvious yesterday on our way home from an afternoon at the apple farm when I realized that so-called "mummy brain" had somehow spread to John.

The sun was shining, we were cruising along a country road about halfway home when:

John: CRAP! Where are my sunglasses? (thinking he left them way back in Mountain at the farm)
Me: (looking at him curiously) Um.... on your face?
John: (dumb silence)
Me: (hysterical laughter)

He's home!

At 7:30 pm this evening I sat in our car, headlights on, girls in the back excited beyond belief, scanning the Kitchener train station platform for John's form. I haven't felt that excited about something since.... well, probably sometime around Christmas 1986 or so. Likely the year I got my Litebrite.

Being on my own for the past 8 days while attempting (I think successfully?) to stave off the flu, being 10 weeks pregnant, hosting my dad and Donna, keeping up with the usual stuff around here, and now the last two days, nursing Emily through *the* flu has not been a good time for me.

I've said it before when John has been away but being a single parent is not enjoyable in any way. Sure, you don't have to make any decisions in tandem, checking to see if your decision works for your partner. But that is far outweighed by all the other CRAP that you have to do by yourself.

Like tonight for instance. I really needed to get groceries. I had planned to take Emily and Hope to our nearest grocery store (my favourite, Central Fresh Market - an independent grocery in Kitchener) and get the staples we were missing as well as stuff to make chicken noodle soup. Although Emily was perkier than this morning, she had hit the wall again and did not want to leave the couch. Or the comfort of her jammies. So I started calling people: first Greg who it turns out was playing single parent himself; then Julie, no one home at her house; then I looked out the window and saw that both Dan and Jewel were home downstairs and although I'd used and abused my friendship with Jewel all day, I did it again and she graciously stayed with the kids while I ran out.

A couple of Facebook friends asked later if there was a grocery delivery nearby. You only think of these things afterward and in anticipation of a next time, I did some research. As far as I can tell no grocery stores do this in K-W. A big oversight for sure. What do single parents do in these situations? I assume they have to rely on a huge network of friends and family. It's not a role I ever want to permanently play.

And so, if you know someone who is a single parent.... make them a meal and drop it off for their freezer. Just for those times when they might need it. It will make their day.

Adios curls

Not mine. I still have them although they are definitively in the column FRIZZ instead of the column LUCIOUS CURLS. Someday when I'm rich and famous and my bed is made of $100 bills, I'll buy every de-frizzing product on the market and see which is the best for me. For now, I look like Monica on that Friends episode. The frizzy episode. You know the one.

Anywho. This isn't about me. It's about HIM.

In case you're confused, by HIM, I don't mean God.

I mean my husband. His name is John. Six foot three. Size 13 feet. Dark, curly hair.

Let's revise that. Dark hair. No longer curly.

This is due to the actions of a certain person with a razor (mentioned earlier on this blog as someone comparable to a Turkish market vendor who could likely sell you-know-what to you-know-who) who somehow convinced John that he should shave his curls in response to another certain person's hilarious (really, they were) comments about wildlife taking up residence in John's hair due to the fact that John hasn't seen a barber in oh, eons. And then, promptly after hilarious (really, I am hilarious) person made said comments, John got a weird look on his face and pulled out of his hair, no joke, a FLYING ANT that had likely been there most of the day or at least for several hours or minutes.

And now John continues to preface explanations for his lack of hair with "Well, after being the target of abuse for so long, I really had no choice....." Blah, blah, blah.

And so without further ado, please meet the newly shorn John:


If you have any nasty pots sitting around, I've now got a spare Brillo pad in the house.

Love you, man!

UPDATE: John received a question or two about his magnificent melon from the front. Brace yourselves:

John's birthday in pictures

I'm not going to give you the play-by-play of the big birthday bash. I'll save you that. However, I will give you a bulleted edition and then give you a bunch of photos, courtesy Jim, who is the best photographer I know.

The party was awesome! It was everything I hoped for. I wish I could have changed one thing though: I arrived after John! I know. Duh. But, sometimes things are out of your control when you have two kids in the back seat. Oh well. If that was all that went wrong, it was a good day. The highlights were:

• all of our good friends in one place
• the perfect weather - overcast but warm therefore no worries about getting overheated or sunstroke
• swimming in the cold lake - my kids loved that. Some of the other kids were a bit smarter.
• John taking the kids for rides in the inflatable dingy
• Dawn's leaches (okay, not so great but funny when you look back on it. Not for Dawn probably).
• Great food (pat on the back to me)
• A well-decorated cake and extremely tasty I'm told. It was carrot with cream cheese icing.
  
• The kids playing with all the bubbles.
• how well all the kids played together regardless of age or if they had met before.
• lots of laughs.
• John being surprised by who was there.
• no one getting lost.
• At the end, wishing we could start back at the beginning and do it all again.

And now for the photos.....

Finally, I can blog about this!

It's 8:02 AM and John has been golfing for the last hour. Since I know he won't be reading my blog at all today I finally have a chance to talk about what we're doing today. But first some background:

John is turning 40. Yipes!

His actual birthday is June 18 but today I'm throwing him a not-so-surprising-surprise-party. It was supposed to be a traditional surprise party but I had to tell him what was going on when he announced he would likely be at graduation today (turns out he had the date wrong). And then he asked if it would be like a wedding where he could golf first before the big event. Another surprise gone.

However, he thinks that it will only be the usual four families. He doesn't know that it will be his brother's family, Pam/Jim and company, and our friends Dawn/John and Emily. So at least there is one surprise left.

This whole thing is going down at Pete and Julie's cottage in Perth. I am going to owe them so big after this.

I've made a lot A LOT of food - homemade hamburgers, great sausages from my favourite Ottawa sausage place, a huge whack of potato salad, and a very large carrot cake (decorated quite well, although not SHANNON-well). Others are helping me out by bringing fruit and vegetable trays and cupcakes for the kiddies.

I hope the weather holds. I think it will. I also think it will be a great day although probably seriously chaotic with 9 children and 14 adults. Pictures to come later!

Conference Widow

My friend, Pam, uses this term around this time of year. She and I are both conference widows in late May and it is all due to The Congress of the Humanities and Social Sciences, once known as the Learneds, sometimes known as the Stupids.

Straight from the website: "The Congress of the Humanities and Social Sciences is the largest multidisciplinary academic gathering in Canada" John and John's work wife (Pam's husband Jim) attend almost every year wherever in Canada it is held. This year Congress is being held at Carleton.

John is Program Chair for the portion of Congress that is the Annual Meeting of the Canadian Historical Association (CHA) this year. The CHA is one of the largest, if not the largest, meeting at Congress. So this year, not only was I a conference widow during the actual conference (which ended last night) but I had many moments of widowhood over the past year but particularly the past month and most intensively, the last two weeks or so.

I am so glad the CHA portion is over. Not just for the selfish reasons of having to cook and clean alone, play with the kids, bathe them and put them to bed alone and crave adult company all day only to go to bed alone as well. But also for John's sake; the stress was mighty, starting last summer and growing to epic proportions through the year. I'm so glad it is over and life can return to "normal."

Of course, "normal" will now include packing up our house, looking for an apartment to rent in Kitchener (this weekend), finishing up school for Emily, getting the house in good shape for our tenants, etc etc. No stress there.

I'm so glad that my partner-in-crime is back to help me! (Yes, yes, I know John, professors DO work in the summer.)

Yesterday: good; Today: not so much

A few of great things happened yesterday; first, washing machine guy called and had the timer from our washer all fixed up AND he was able to install it right away. Hurray for laundry! Second, John came home last night to much fanfare, hugs and kisses from all of us. Third, I successfully pulled off John's early birthday/Father's Day gift without him having a clue.

You might remember that John's bike was stolen a few months ago. I decided to get him a new-to-him bike for this gift-giving time of year. On Wednesday, the kids and I went to Dave's Bike Dump here in Ottawa and got him a great but ugly bike that will be awesome to ride and will likely not be the target of any thieves. At least not any thieves with taste.

It is a very early model mountain bike (in fact, Dave told me it was the first widely available mountain bike although I can't remember what it was called. I believe the name Tom was involved). The original owner painted over the frame to hide the make so it would purposely look ugly and not draw nasty thieving people. He was successful.

It has all new components thanks to Dave and his crew and I fitted it with all the extras. I thought John had a clue to what was going on but in typical fashion, he was totally clueless (heh heh, sorry baby). I love pulling off a surprise. He declared it his best birthday present ever.

And then today the kids were so bad most of the morning that it was the first time that I very seriously contemplated returning to work. It's still seriously on my mind. Today sucked. It got a lot better, in fact way, way better, after naps took place, but man, if I ever needed a 10:00 a.m. cocktail, it was today.

I'm thinking of setting up a bar in the living room, or perhaps just starting to carry a flask for these kind of emergencies. Yeah, I'm that kind of kick-ass mom.

Tonight I'm off to my girls' book club for some treats and a casual mention of the book we read. I love my occasional night out. I really need it today.

March Moment Day 25 or another reason to keep him around

My morning is deep, deep, deep within a rut. The rut I'm in is so big it would take a LAV3 to get me out of there. And even then it would likely be with me kicking and screaming and scraping my fingernails along the sides of the rut.

I really like my rut.

It goes like this: Emily comes into my room and says something along the lines of "Get up you hosehead. Get me my morning juice and turn on the t.v. and then leave me to the subtle nuances of Curious George." I comply. After she's settled in front of the t.v., I go back to the kitchen, start getting her toast ready and, more importantly, fire up the old cappuccino machine. I deliver Emily's breakfast to her. Normally by then Hope has woken up so I get her, change the old bum, get her some juice and toast and then settle her in beside Emily. By then my best friend the cappuccino machine is ready to go. I make my coffee, toast and then settle in to read the paper. Hope usually wanders up after a few minutes. Her attention span for anything other than Veggie Tales is short. She plays on her own while I keep soaking up the news from in town and out. After that it is in the shower, blah, blah, blah and on with the day.

John knows I read the paper every morning, and usually thoroughly. And so he left me a wee gift this morning. A subtle gift, meant to give me a laugh, but also based on our totally parallel opinions on our current government, our love of politics (not to the point where we ever want to join in but certainly where we follow and comment and complain and maybe, just maybe, one of us has joined a certain left-leaning - okay, very left-leaning - federal party) and our oh-so-similar and therefore cockeyed senses of humour. So, there I was this morning reading through the paper when I found this:


For most of you who likely don't recognize Jim Flaherty, he is Canada's federal Minister of Finance and esteemed member of the ruling Conservative Party, which to my ears is like living in Dog River and hearing mention of Wullerton.

I have strong feelings about Jim Flaherty but John's eclipse mine. Which I suppose is obvious by his graffiti above.

All this to say that my husband knows how to lift my spirits in the morning without even being home.

The reason I love him should be self-explanatory

This is the Valentine's Day gift that I woke up to this morning from my wonderful, hysterically funny, gorgeous life partner:


And that is why we are perfect for each other.

There is a story behind this that is worth telling. It isn't why this is the most amazing gift ever. That should be evident. It's how John got it.

He wanted to get me one but they're only available from NBC and rather costly at that. So, he settled on something else but hadn't actually bought anything yet and then he saw the Dwight bauble-head in one of his grad student's offices. He admired it, said how much I would love one. Grad Student told John that NBC had mistakenly sent her 4 instead of 1 and did he want one. Hell, ya!

In John's words, karma was on his side that day. And so, I am now the proud and enviable owner of a fully ceramic (no plastic in sight!) Dwight bauble-head.

Why you should never touch unrecognizable things on the floor when there are kids in the house

Not more than five minutes ago, the following happened.

The girls are in the bath tub. I'm chatting with John in our bedroom just a few steps away (all safety concious out there can rest assured that I could see the girls the whole time). He looks down on the floor and says: "What's this?"

He picks up the unknown object. He screams: "Ahhhhh! It's poop!" and immediately drops it like it was a ball of fire (which it kind of was).

"Whose poop is that? Why is it on the floor? I can't believe I just touched poop. With my bare hands. I'm going to have to burn them now. I'm so disgusted."

I am laughing. I can't talk. I'm laughing that hard.

"It's not funny! Stop laughing!"

I keep laughing. I probably didn't have to tell you that.

"I feel sick. Seriously, I think I might need to vomit."

For those of you who haven't bred yet, welcome to the romance of parenthood. Hey, at least there are some good moments of schadenfreude.

Still laughing.

Has anyone seen my husband?

I found a ransom note tonight that read like this:

I have your husband. He's mine forever now... as long as I'm in town, anyway. You just better hope I never become resident at your house or he'll never come out of the basement.

Signed,
Wii

Goodbye to the seven year itch

Today is my and John's eighth anniversary. It seems strange to put that down. I can't believe we've been married eight years, together for ten. But when I think back, it seems so long ago that we had our wedding, so much has happened since, very good, very bad. Through all of it I have had the funniest, most loyal and loving companion and friend I could ever have dreamed of spending my life with, raising these kids with.

I told John yesterday that the thing I am most thankful for about our relationship is how much we genuinely love spending time with each other. We can spend the evening just talking and laughing. When our kids are older, into their own lives, I know that we'll relish the time on our own again just to hang out, laugh and talk. Isn't that a great thing to look forward to and know it's waiting for you anytime you need it?

Happy anniversary, love of my life.

At least it isn't matching adult track suits

Today was one of those days that I love. One of those days where you watch the guy you fell in love with years ago riding up and down an escalator with your daughter and fall in love with him (and her) all over again.

We woke up to a really snowy day here. In fact, it's still snowing. After a beautiful week that promised spring is just around the corner, this is kind of hard to take and took away the usual excitement of doing some outside stuff (the nasty wind didn't help motivate us either).

We didn't really have any specific plans but we decided to start off at what Emily calls "the bagel shop." It's a great Ottawa bagel joint called Kettleman's. They serve Montreal style bagels. If you don't know what this means, man, are you missing out. Simply put, they are much chewier and denser than New York style bagels (which I tend to refer to as bread with holes). They are traditionally poppy seed or sesame and the dough is slightly sweet. The closer you get to Montreal (Ottawa is just two hours away), the more often you'll find them. Anywho.

After the bagel stop, we decided to head to the Byward Market. We haven't been down there in ages, although we used to often be there every weekend when we were child free and full of spontaneity. We picked up some maple syrup as it is by far the cheapest place to get it - much cheaper, for some reason, than getting it at the sugar camps. We had a great time going through the Market Mall (a building in the market that houses a few cool shops and little eateries). Emily was perfect Emily - in awe of everything, pointing out things on the way, and talking about food most of the time.

From there we went to the Rideau Centre and did some browsing. "Mom, this mall is awesome!" was proclaimed a few times (apocalypse coming, my friends) and Emily loved the big open spaces to run around in, looking heartbreaking in her little barrettes, curls and ski jacket.

I took the opportunity to pop into Old Navy to browse the kids' section. I picked up a few things. Afterwards I met John and Emily at Second Cup for the snack Emily had been asking about for the previous hour. I showed off the purchases Hope and I made. Specifically this:


John's face clouded over. He started to shake his head and said "no, no, no, no." Then went on a diatribe about how I'm one step away from wearing track pants and thinking they look good and that it is a slight against humankind to dress our children in the same outfits, blah, blah, blah.

I think it's going to be damn cute. I think it's cute to have older and younger siblings, once in a while only, in the same little outfit. Am I wrong here? Am I one step away from buying matching windbreaker suits for John and I?

A no-go for the cyst removal

John went to the lump and bump clinic yesterday only to be told by the surgeon that if the cyst was removed now there would a hole the size of a fist in John's back. The surgeon said he wouldn't do it until it shrunk more. So, John is still draining, in some pain, but will see the surgeon again on December 18 at which point a removal will be booked for sometime in January probably. The guy was rather surprised at the size of it. Even more surprised when John told him that it was a bigger a few days ago. It always makes you feel kind of good when you can surprise a veteran surgeon with the size of your cyst.

It is a lot smaller already compared the photo I posted. Still gooey but clearly that's a good thing if it is making the cyst smaller.

On happier notes, I took Emily and Hope to the Children's Museum this morning. Emily was totally in her element. Running from one thing to another non-stop. Hope tried to sleep. Later, Hope ate. Now, she's sleeping again.

Yesterday we looked at some of the video I shot over the last few months. I'm so glad I bought that video camera. It is amazing to see Emily only a few months ago and notice the changes in her language, walk, size etc. I'm so glad I got on camera her former version of "yes" - "ah do". I miss that.

Hope is stirring and probably hungry again. Time to go.

Too tired for much

I'm too tired to write much but here is what we're dealing with:


It was bigger than that two days ago. It is smaller today. Tomorrow morning at 9:00 it gets unceremoniously cut out by some guy at a "lump and bump" clinic. Thank God.

This thing, large enough at one point to have its own gravitational pull, has wreaked havoc in this house. Not only has it been excruciating for John, but it has reduced me to a single parent. John was, for a couple of days anyway, unable to stand due to the pain (I think it may have been pushing inward onto inner, crucial skeletal things), so I have, for the last 5 days, done all the cooking, cleaning (not so much of that has gone on, but dishes anyway), bathing of kids, putting to bed of kids, playing with kids, shopping, changing dressings on planet, etc. Plus about 3 breast feedings a night.

I'm completely baked. I have absolutely new sympathy for anyone who is taking care of kids alone. It is utterly exhausting. I luckily have not resorted to the t.v. as a surrogate parent. But, I can see why people reach that point.

Anyway, goodbye, dear planet. It sucked knowing you.

Warning: you may not want to tune in here tomorrow

If you have a weak constitution, seriously don't read the blog tomorrow. John has a monster cyst on his back that we have been nursing along the last few days and he has given me permission to post the ugly details. This sounds gross, I know, but being that this has consumed us the last week or so (particularly the last 3 or 4 days) and essentially turned this house on its head in some ways, I have to talk about it. I have completely kept silent so far assuming that John didn't want it discussed but he has given me full permission.

So, as I said, weak constitution? Don't read tomorrow. Sick interest or medical profession (Erika? Marlene? Jannie? I'm looking at you), then this is the place to be!

There may be photos.

Missing her daddy

Yesterday was fine, although Emily did ask about John a few times. Today was weird though - she had that sporadic, unexplainable crying on and off until supper (hmm, hunger maybe? No, I think it was missing John).

Things are going fine so far - Emily even has let me put her to bed and leave the room while she is still awake - albeit not as quickly as John, but still - progress!

I really miss John though - down to my soul. Not just for the partnering on Emily stuff, but on just sitting and talking in the evenings or before bed. I really miss that. At least there is email. Having him gone is really making me appreciate him more - for his love and friendship, as well as for the Emily stuff.

Enough sap. Got Emily some new shoes. She loves the Globo store where I go. In the kids' section, there are raised platforms with colourful seating pads that she loves to climb on. And of course, stupidly, all the shoe boxes are at her level and she tears around pulling shoes out. Who came up with that bright idea? Got her first pair of sandals though. I put aside the pink and got orange and grey. Very sporty and cute. And on sale for $13 so all is good.

Time for yoga before bed.

Soon to be solo - ACK!

John is leaving this week for a conference and to do some research in Toronto. This means I will, for the first time, be completely on my own for one week with Emily. Emily and I have a great relationship - it's not that. However, having John share the burden is so important that I think this may be a burnout week for me. I see this happening because of two factors: having to do all the cooking and having to do all the putting-to-beds. Not to mention that we'll really miss him. And the fact that he and I have been watching Alias on DVD every night and now I have to wait until he gets back. Poor me.

John totally rules at the putting-to-beds (not to mention cooking). He and Emily do the bath, read books (clearly having a great time as evidenced by the squeals of laughter coming from her room - Emily's squeals, not John's), and then John plops her in her crib and walks out and we don't hear from her again until morning (which in her world lately is 5:45 a.m.).

If I put her to bed, it all goes the same way until the "plop her in the crib" part which is a total no-go. There is rocking in the chair, hugging, finally coaxing her into the crib, playing with "baby," finally laying down while I hold her hand and put my head against the crib pretending to sleep with her. John gets it all done by 7:30 (sometimes sooner). For me it is 8:20 or so by the time I get downstairs. And no, leaving her to cry doesn't work. She doesn't go to sleep for me that way - she just screams. And I'm not into that method of parenting anyway.

So, we'll see how it all goes. I'm sure there will be frequent but groggy updates through the week.

The visit of my dad and Donna has left me feeling very industrious and wanting to get jobs done around the house. This grew from the fact that Donna's work resulted in crossing many things off of our list of jobs to be done. So, I'm finally sewing the big drapes for the living room (almost half-way done now) and they look amazing so far. Also, while at Fabricland, I found some fabric on sale that will be perfect for sheer curtains in the kitchen as well as some more that was dirt cheap for the new baby's room. One more trip to Fabricland should do it for the last bits I'll need to finish all these curtains. Finally, our living room won't be sweltering in the summer!

Here is something from John's blog that made me laugh:

Today's Helpful Hint: if you get a chance to vote for the Conservative
Party of Canada, and thus the northern variant of the American Republican Party,
please do all Canadians a favour and simply take your unregistered gun and
shoot yourself in the foot. At least you will save the gas money in driving
your Hummer down to the polling station.