The weekend is not going as planned. I have inherited many people's children while noting one set of parents boasting happily that the stars have aligned and all their children are out of the house at various sleepovers. Oh yes, you would boast wouldn't you as I have had one of your children for over 24 hours and yet have NOT sold him for profit on ebay but instead fed him...a lot.
Where 13-year-old boys put their food I have no idea.
Oh wait, yes I do, in the bathroom which we may as well torch because there is no saving it now.
I have just kicked three of them out of our house, reminding them of their real parents' names, and adding that I refuse to feed them anything more. Well except for the just made banana/chocolate chip cupcakes because I've obviously lost my mind.
Satchel kindly walked two of his friends to McDonald's because clearing out our fridge didn't quite do it for them - there must have been a small space in their left foot crying out for nourishment - and had the audacity to phone and ask if he could bring the big galoot home for a sleepover. What? Are you insane? He's the one that scares me most! I'm amazed that Jakob didn't get mistaken for a snack and come to think of it, I haven't seen the cats in ages.
So no, he's not coming home with you. And if that wasn't clear...NO WAY IN HELL. Okay? Because I'm already trying to get creative with the crumbs on the floor to create a balanced meal for dinner and I'm sure he would fight me, and win, over the pizza crust I'm eyeing under the chair.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
First, I have to write I LOVE THAT IT'S THE WEEKEND! Thank god, one more day of work and I would have had to...well...do something not so very pleasant to someone other than myself. I mean really, what's the point of doing something to myself, that's not going to solve anything.
I realized it's been a while since I last did a wine post and since I haven't stopped drinking wine decided to blog in between glasses about a new cheap purchase made this afternoon and quickly shared with friends.
La Casona, 2007 Monastrell
They lured me in with their advertising: 89 points for $8.95.
A red that's bold with a complex nose of black cherries, violets, and casis notes, a little on the darker side. On the palate it's fresher and lighter than expected with moderate tannins and a bit more wood. Tastes like a more expensive wine with a good finish. Monastrell is the Spanish name for mourvedre, grown in the Rhone and Languedoc areas of France.
Definitely worth decanting the wine to give it a little boost and with my present from Santa this year, a handy dandy little creation that decants by the glass, a fabulous way to end the work week!
I realized it's been a while since I last did a wine post and since I haven't stopped drinking wine decided to blog in between glasses about a new cheap purchase made this afternoon and quickly shared with friends.
La Casona, 2007 Monastrell They lured me in with their advertising: 89 points for $8.95.
A red that's bold with a complex nose of black cherries, violets, and casis notes, a little on the darker side. On the palate it's fresher and lighter than expected with moderate tannins and a bit more wood. Tastes like a more expensive wine with a good finish. Monastrell is the Spanish name for mourvedre, grown in the Rhone and Languedoc areas of France.
Definitely worth decanting the wine to give it a little boost and with my present from Santa this year, a handy dandy little creation that decants by the glass, a fabulous way to end the work week!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The evolution of my mood today:
Fine. Perfectly fine, it's a good day. No, wait, I'm irritated. Forget irritation, I am really angry. That's it, I'M FURIOUS. Wait, back to being irritated. Maybe I'll just have a chocolate chip cookie ... even though I hate chocolate chip cookies.
I think it makes sense for Paul to work late tonight, for his own protection.
Now irritated again because Jakob has a bum wiping emergency. Turns out he hates wiping his bum. Join the club I say, I hate wiping my bum too - but I do it anyway because IT'S MY BUM.
How can he not sense I'm in the throes of PMS and that he is walking a very dangerous line?
Fine. Perfectly fine, it's a good day. No, wait, I'm irritated. Forget irritation, I am really angry. That's it, I'M FURIOUS. Wait, back to being irritated. Maybe I'll just have a chocolate chip cookie ... even though I hate chocolate chip cookies.
I think it makes sense for Paul to work late tonight, for his own protection.
Now irritated again because Jakob has a bum wiping emergency. Turns out he hates wiping his bum. Join the club I say, I hate wiping my bum too - but I do it anyway because IT'S MY BUM.
How can he not sense I'm in the throes of PMS and that he is walking a very dangerous line?
Monday, January 18, 2010
Calcifications look benign but need to have follow-up.
Eek - in May I have an MRI, June a meeting with my oncologist and July another mammogram.
Now I'm no pansy, I've had more mammograms than I can count, but holy CRAP, what I went through today at the hospital was no ordinary mammogram! Even the technician, God bless her, said "Brace yourself, this one hurts. Now this next view, we have to hold you in place for one full minute before we take the image. Now breath. Breath."
I was squished so tight there was no room for oxygen. And then when she said "Now DON'T BREATH!" I sincerely thought I would pass out, held up by a machine and one very flat breast.
I'm not entirely comfortable though playing the waiting game so in June I'm going to bring up the mastectomy with my oncologist. I think it's the only thing that makes sense because I sincerely can't deal with all this stress!
Eek - in May I have an MRI, June a meeting with my oncologist and July another mammogram.
Now I'm no pansy, I've had more mammograms than I can count, but holy CRAP, what I went through today at the hospital was no ordinary mammogram! Even the technician, God bless her, said "Brace yourself, this one hurts. Now this next view, we have to hold you in place for one full minute before we take the image. Now breath. Breath."
I was squished so tight there was no room for oxygen. And then when she said "Now DON'T BREATH!" I sincerely thought I would pass out, held up by a machine and one very flat breast.
I'm not entirely comfortable though playing the waiting game so in June I'm going to bring up the mastectomy with my oncologist. I think it's the only thing that makes sense because I sincerely can't deal with all this stress!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
One day closer to C day! And now I have a sore throat and a stomach ache. But I have self medicated myself, with wine of course. Quite a few glasses! I took the day off work because after yesterday I realized that today is not a good day to be surrounded by people in case they make me...TALK TO THEM. It would not have been good, there might have been tears. And I was raised to not cry in front of people.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
This count down to possible C day is not for the faint hearted. Every day that passes raises my anxiety level exponentially and all I keep thinking is SHIT, I just started two courses this week and I had better be able to finish them. And then...OF COURSE I decided to grow my hair because with my luck I'll lose it.
I can barely breath at work and avoid everyone so that I don't have to hold a conversation. And the amount of work that keeps coming my way is about to push me over the edge - sure it's good to remain busy but come on! Triple booking is not the answer to keeping me sane. I think tomorrow I had better stay home and hide from the world.
Wine also keeps popping into my head: how sweet it would be to have a glass right now, even if it is only 10:00 am and I'm at work. Actually I was probably thinking that Disaronno would be really sweet at 10:00 am. Now that it's 3pm, wine is a pretty good option - I have just poured myself my default white wine: Argento Pino Grigio.
I can barely breath at work and avoid everyone so that I don't have to hold a conversation. And the amount of work that keeps coming my way is about to push me over the edge - sure it's good to remain busy but come on! Triple booking is not the answer to keeping me sane. I think tomorrow I had better stay home and hide from the world.
Wine also keeps popping into my head: how sweet it would be to have a glass right now, even if it is only 10:00 am and I'm at work. Actually I was probably thinking that Disaronno would be really sweet at 10:00 am. Now that it's 3pm, wine is a pretty good option - I have just poured myself my default white wine: Argento Pino Grigio.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
This is what I've been thinking about lately: what do you do when you're confronted with a serious illness and you have small children. Do you protect them and not tell them anything and hope against hope, or do you give them a slightly watered down understanding about how your life is about to change but in a way that provides hopefulness and security? For example, if you are diagnosed with breast cancer (as I will have confirmed on January 18) or if you have a massive heart attack and your chances for a long life are very slim, how do you manage your life and your illness with your kids?
The first time I was diagnosed with breast cancer in September of 2006, Satchel: 10 and Jakob: 4, I was terrified. There is nothing like hearing the word CANCER and then thinking HOLY SHIT I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I came home shell shocked and sat on the couch crying until I had to pick up the kids. Of course at that time we were in the middle of a massive home renovation and displaced, living in a house a few blocks from my neighbourhood, my friends and my support system.
This time I feel better prepared having been through it once but I'm also hoping that what I have again is DCIS and contained in the milk ducts. Also I have a plan: I'm going to remove my remaining breast because it is obviously NOT MY FRIEND. And having breastfed for three years, my thinking towards breasts in general has become quite utilitarian and I don't really need it anymore (I'm deliberately not thinking about the fun part of having breasts). And again, THEY ARE NOT MY FRIENDS AND SEEM TO HAVE A DEATH WISH.
So how to deal with the kids. Satchel knows more at 13 then I will tell Jakob at 8. Part of my reasoning behind telling them is so that they have a slight understanding of why Mommy might be acting the way she is with slightly less patience and perhaps a tad hysterical.
Going back to the first time, before my mastectomy, I remember tearfully writing them letters letting them know how proud I was of them and how much I loved them ... and these were really good bye letters because the idea of a 7-hour surgery freaked me out, just in case the worst happened. But after a 15-hour surgery (I have small veins and arteries and a lot of micro surgery was involved) I'm much more confident this time around.
When I was 13, my dad had a massive heart attack and was in and out of hospital for the next 2 1/2 years before he finally succumbed. I find it curious that my mom and/or dad never sat us down to explain the situation. Looking back I would have been much more understanding to his mood swings, his explosiveness, knowing that he faced death every day leaving 4 young kids at home. Even understanding how the medication he was on changed his personality would have been helpful. But I think my parents were of the generation where ignorance is bliss and frankly better for the kids. And perhaps he wasn't ready to speak of his mortality out loud. I'll never know. I try to put the pieces together by asking my two older brothers questions, since they are much older than I and had moved into an adult relationship with my dad. And now with my mom dementing, I can't even ask her, or frankly talk to her about my current situation.
So where I stand now is that Satch knows I have a follow-up on Monday the 18th to determine what my situation is but also that I will be fine and Jakob knows nothing until I actually have information to pass on. And once I know everything on the 18th, well, I'll figure the rest out then.
But any advice is welcome!
The first time I was diagnosed with breast cancer in September of 2006, Satchel: 10 and Jakob: 4, I was terrified. There is nothing like hearing the word CANCER and then thinking HOLY SHIT I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I came home shell shocked and sat on the couch crying until I had to pick up the kids. Of course at that time we were in the middle of a massive home renovation and displaced, living in a house a few blocks from my neighbourhood, my friends and my support system.
This time I feel better prepared having been through it once but I'm also hoping that what I have again is DCIS and contained in the milk ducts. Also I have a plan: I'm going to remove my remaining breast because it is obviously NOT MY FRIEND. And having breastfed for three years, my thinking towards breasts in general has become quite utilitarian and I don't really need it anymore (I'm deliberately not thinking about the fun part of having breasts). And again, THEY ARE NOT MY FRIENDS AND SEEM TO HAVE A DEATH WISH.
So how to deal with the kids. Satchel knows more at 13 then I will tell Jakob at 8. Part of my reasoning behind telling them is so that they have a slight understanding of why Mommy might be acting the way she is with slightly less patience and perhaps a tad hysterical.
Going back to the first time, before my mastectomy, I remember tearfully writing them letters letting them know how proud I was of them and how much I loved them ... and these were really good bye letters because the idea of a 7-hour surgery freaked me out, just in case the worst happened. But after a 15-hour surgery (I have small veins and arteries and a lot of micro surgery was involved) I'm much more confident this time around.
When I was 13, my dad had a massive heart attack and was in and out of hospital for the next 2 1/2 years before he finally succumbed. I find it curious that my mom and/or dad never sat us down to explain the situation. Looking back I would have been much more understanding to his mood swings, his explosiveness, knowing that he faced death every day leaving 4 young kids at home. Even understanding how the medication he was on changed his personality would have been helpful. But I think my parents were of the generation where ignorance is bliss and frankly better for the kids. And perhaps he wasn't ready to speak of his mortality out loud. I'll never know. I try to put the pieces together by asking my two older brothers questions, since they are much older than I and had moved into an adult relationship with my dad. And now with my mom dementing, I can't even ask her, or frankly talk to her about my current situation.
So where I stand now is that Satch knows I have a follow-up on Monday the 18th to determine what my situation is but also that I will be fine and Jakob knows nothing until I actually have information to pass on. And once I know everything on the 18th, well, I'll figure the rest out then.
But any advice is welcome!
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
This is just a musing really but I have a feeling that the majority of mommy bloggers are mothers of young children and/or babies...when the little darlings are still pretty much adorable all the time and don't spend every freaking moment of the day picking/fighting/wrestling/yelling/tormenting each other and breaking things in the house.
Writing at a time when the sweet little things are still at a stage where a slight raise of a voice or a timeout will curb unwanted behaviour and not when the mother is stuck yelling, physically separating, banning XBox for a month and wondering what else can be taken away because OH MY GOD THEY ARE NOT LISTENING AND THEY ARE NOT STOPPING AND I'M GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN!
Is it because I have only boys? Would girls act like this? Or would having one of each gender reduce the fighting? And because of the age different 13 vs. 8 I feel compelled to step in when it looks like Jakob is about to get pummeled AGAIN. I can't help myself because these are never fair fights!
And just when we thought we could see the light at the end of the tunnel, Satch is old enough to babysit and it's pretty much the only reason he earns an allowance, now we can't leave them alone together because ALL THEY DO IS PICK/FIGHT....see above.
So this is my advice to the bloggers of young children - when they hit a certain age, trade them in for a younger model - like you would a car perhaps or a computer or cellphone...
Writing at a time when the sweet little things are still at a stage where a slight raise of a voice or a timeout will curb unwanted behaviour and not when the mother is stuck yelling, physically separating, banning XBox for a month and wondering what else can be taken away because OH MY GOD THEY ARE NOT LISTENING AND THEY ARE NOT STOPPING AND I'M GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN!
Is it because I have only boys? Would girls act like this? Or would having one of each gender reduce the fighting? And because of the age different 13 vs. 8 I feel compelled to step in when it looks like Jakob is about to get pummeled AGAIN. I can't help myself because these are never fair fights!
And just when we thought we could see the light at the end of the tunnel, Satch is old enough to babysit and it's pretty much the only reason he earns an allowance, now we can't leave them alone together because ALL THEY DO IS PICK/FIGHT....see above.
So this is my advice to the bloggers of young children - when they hit a certain age, trade them in for a younger model - like you would a car perhaps or a computer or cellphone...
Monday, January 04, 2010
I can't seem to shake off my post-holiday exhaustion. Even the mammogram at 8:00 this morning didn't squish me into awakeness! How am I supposed to type on a keyboard if I can't keep my eyes open?
Christmas was great, presents ripped open in less than 30 minutes. Behold the smug expression of "oh yeah Santa, I've been good...real good."
And also behold the only shot of me, face hidden by Jakob's head.
And finally - yes there is another picture of me, I lied earlier - my new baby! Isn't she fantastic! If only I could have an hour to myself to plug her into the amp and listen to her sing. Unfortunately every time I bring her out of her case, I am swarmed by in-laws or children. Fortunately the in-laws have finally returned home but I'm still trying to figure out what to do with the children.
Military school? The one that keeps children for a few years? Sure the haircuts are bad but they would return with excellent table manners.
Christmas was great, presents ripped open in less than 30 minutes. Behold the smug expression of "oh yeah Santa, I've been good...real good."
And also behold the only shot of me, face hidden by Jakob's head.
And finally - yes there is another picture of me, I lied earlier - my new baby! Isn't she fantastic! If only I could have an hour to myself to plug her into the amp and listen to her sing. Unfortunately every time I bring her out of her case, I am swarmed by in-laws or children. Fortunately the in-laws have finally returned home but I'm still trying to figure out what to do with the children.
Military school? The one that keeps children for a few years? Sure the haircuts are bad but they would return with excellent table manners.
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