Wednesday, 16 April 2014

The Silence Of The Lambs

     Last year I had great fun helping my friend Alyssia bottle feed two orphaned lambs. It isn't often one gets an opportunity like that so I was more than happy to step in and help out where I could.  I wasn't surprised to get a text from her a few weeks ago asking me if I would be willing to help out again this year and I was glad to oblige. Her friend wanted a lamb & had asked Alyssia to start the bottle feeding process for her, but she was concerned that one lamb might get lonely, so it wasn't a giant leap to suggest she get two and keep the second, however this posed another problem, once the first lamb went to his eventual home, the second lamb, too small to join the others would then be lonely.  

     What to do? What to do? What to do?. Maybe we should get a lamb too, and I put the suggestion to Alyssia. However, I thought it might be wise to seek my husband's opinion.  "What do you think about getting a lamb honey ? " I asked sweetly. "Don't be ridiculous" was the curt reply "What would we do with a lamb ?". I texted Alyssa with the good news "Rob thinks its a great idea, he's all for it."  So maybe I was stretching the truth just a little bit, but I figured he'd come around - eventually !

       That was all the encouragement Alyssia needed and we started plotting.  I then received another text, her friend wanted two lambs. No problem, let's get four I suggested. Alyssia had already sent me a photo of the 25 orphaned lambs that needed a home and I suggested we visit the farm and take our pick.  By now, Rob is getting a little suspicious of the frantic texts flying back and forth between us, and when I asked him to remove the back seats from my van he was understandably nervous and wanted to know why.  "I need more room for the lambs" I told him.  "WTF what do you mean by lambs, plural?" he squeaked.  I patiently explained that I was merely helping our friend, conveniently leaving out my part in the conspiracy. "Without the back seats we can cram in more lambs" I continued. He visibly paled, he hadn't signed on for this.

       "If you want the back seats taken out" he said, "You can do it yourself, I'm not encouraging this foolishness". If he thought that would dissuade me, he was mistaken. His parting comment was "Don't go doing anything stupid". "Don't worry" I assured him. Fortunately for me, we have very different ideas of what constitutes stupid !

       I got my lamb !  Happy Easter, and I will be back on Monday.

Monday, 14 April 2014

Back In Business

     My apologies for the interlude. It was not my intent to leave my blogging world for so long, but life (in the form of a lengthy bout of flu, orphaned lambs and work) got in the way.  For now, until I have had a chance to catch up, I am cutting back the posts to three times a week - Monday, Wednesday & Friday.  So back to my wacky world of wonderful.

     I grew up as an only child, I have three sisters but I came along much later, so by the time I had turned three they had all left home. My husband on the other hand grew up with two brothers, all close in age, so he is familiar with typical sibling rivalry and fights, I am not.

       I had once imagined a blissful family life, serene and peaceful, instead I get the Rocky Horror Show. Case in point, a typical interaction between my son and youngest daughter. 

       Grady: "Hey Sid, did you know when you look in the dictionary under "idiot" it has your name in the definition?" This is followed by loud peals of laughter, suddenly cut short as Sid aims a stunningly accurate blow to Grady's solar plexus. One day he will learn, but that day is not today. 

Wednesday, 19 March 2014

March Break

This past week is March Break, the week that children stay home from school, and this year it is in weather than in the most part precludes them from going outside. In addition the clocks went ahead so we have all lost an hour of sleep. The week is doomed.

Day 1.
My brother-in-law has thrown himself on the short sword and offered to take Sidney & Grady to the Science Center for the day. Yay for Uncle Guntis ! At the very last minute, Sid wants a cooked breakfast, but I'm getting dressed so Grady offers to make her eggs. He has done so before, so it shouldn't be a problem. We both learned a valuable lesson that morning. Mine was, don't assume because Grady has done something correctly before, he will do so again. For Grady, he has to remember to remove the element covers before turning on the elements.  Add element covers to shopping list. 

I knew we had some spare element covers - or so I thought, but I couldn't find one. I asked Rob about them and he was strangely silent. Lindsay however was ready to chirp like a cheap canary.  As it turned out, just a few days earlier, Lindsay had made the same mistake and Rob covered (no pun intended) for her.  He hurriedly replaced the burnt cover and disposed of the evidence, telling Lindsay "Your mother will never know".  Rookie mistake, the mother ALWAYS knows.

Monday, 17 March 2014

The Joys Of Cat Ownership

I am not totally convinced this is "blog worthy", but it has never stopped me before, and anyway my long suffering husband is insistent that I put it out there, I think perhaps he is looking worldwide for sympathy - god knows, he doesn't get any at home.

Friday night, I stumble to bed at 2:00 AM. There is a reason for this - Rob has a cold and snores like a thing possessed. He is usually up early on the weekends (the only quiet time he gets), so I figure if I go to bed at 2:00 A.M. and he is up about 6:00 A.M. I have reduced the time he is breathing germs on me to four short hours, and I may be lucky enough not to get sick.

Let me tell you, it was a hellish night. I have the mouth breather beside me, who still has the audacity to try and plug my nose, but I keep swatting him away like the gnat he is, because I am not able to sleep. The reason for this is the damn cat. She has gone on a vomiting rampage. All night long I hear that awful honking sound, in fact I don't think there is any word to truly describe it. I could hear her moving through the house, getting ever closer. I was in a bit of a dilemma, had Rob heard this commotion ? If so, why wasn't he  getting up and doing something about it. On the other hand, if he was still asleep and I woke him up then it would be obvious I had heard it and not done anything. What to do ? What to do ? In the end I did nothing. Safe in the thought that Rob would eventually be the first one up and end up having to deal with it anyway.

Turns out he was and he did. according to him cleaning up nine piles of vom. Too bad he missed the tenth pile right beside my side of the bed that I promptly stepped in when I got up. Fucking cat !! 

Friday, 7 March 2014

I Actually Chose This Life ...

Sometimes I give myself a whack upside the head, when I remember I actually made an educated choice to bear children. Today was no exception.

Normally Thursday are my day of woe, but fate threw in a Friday this week as well. Torrential rainstorms the night before, meant a dripping kitchen ceiling the next morning. I had woken up feeling like the proverbial crap, so I really wasn't in the mood to deal with well, just about anything.

I was anxious to get the children to school on time this particular morning. They were going bowling (yes, bowling, that was not an auto correct), and woe betide them if they missed the bus and I had to bring them back home with me. 

First off,  the dog decides to do a runner. Normally the back yard is contained and he can't breach the fence, however with the ice storm before Christmas and the felling of our neighbour's tree across our fence, he has on occasion been able to mount an escape. 

I had enough to do as it was, the last thing I needed now was for a fight to break out between Grady & Sid, which of course it did. Sid's concern that the bowling alley wouldn't have a washroom (thank you Grady for planting that idea into her head), prompted her to go for her second "marathon poo" that morning. Even Grady has commented, "There has to be something wrong with that girl"

My requests for my children not to wind each other up, had obviously fallen on deaf ears, because I suddenly hear a wail from the basement bathroom. "Muuum, Grady is bothering me". How is that possible ? Grady has gone outside to feed the rabbits. I open the back door to find the culprit, knee deep in a snow bank (in his uniform trousers no less), outside the ground level bathroom window, tapping on the glass and leering in at his sister. Seriously, you want to do that now ? 

Understandably his sister, upon vacating the bathroom is righteously indignant and vows revenge upon her sibling. This prompts me to read them both the riot act to ensure they know that bowling balls and pins are not to be used as weapons. I have done all that I can, if Grady ends up sprawled unconscious in a bowing lane, it won't be my problem. 

Next week is March Break - a week to have all my children home, and too damn cold to go out. Brilliant planning. My blog will be on hiatus for the duration, as I will be living it, every blessed day. I will return on Monday, 17th. 

Thursday, 6 March 2014

Don't Poke The Bear

I apologise if this is a repeat. This post was supposed to have gone out on February 20th, but apparently was still sitting in Draft. Not sure what happened. I will blame it on technical difficulties.

Grady was being particularly obstreperous this morning, not wanting to get up, not wanting to feed the rabbits, whinging about emptying the dishwasher - all chores he knows he has to do before school. 

This morning his resistance was particularly galling because I had to get him to school 45 minutes early (which meant I had to get up earlier and we all know how I feel about that) because he had a Badminton practice. I know, most of the kids his age are hockey players, this is Canada after all, but sadly he has inherited his parents athletic prowess (as in non existent) so for him, Badminton it is.

So, after repeated entreaties for Grady to get moving, and fifteen minutes later he was still huddled on the edge of the bed contemplating his bedroom floor, I decided to just get on with making lunches and then do his chores myself. 

But wait, that is not the end of it. Revenge will be mine. When Grady is sitting at the lunch table today with all his little hockey player friends, he will open his lunch box and discover his sandwich nicely presented in a Disney Princess sandwich bag. He should know better than to mess with me - on a Thursday morning no less. Bwah hah hah hah!

Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Part 3 - The Grand Finale

By the time I got home - windows still open - Rob was close behind me, so I left the cat in the kennel cab. There was no way in her current state that I wanted her running through the house, especially as her favourite hiding spot was under our bed.

After Rob had shown not one iota of sympathy at my aforementioned adventures, he went down to the laundry room to clean off the cat. It didn't occur to me that he may need help, but quite honestly too bad if he did, I was sorely ticked about what I'd had to endure.

It was a while later that I ventured downstairs and I thought I heard a faint cry for help from behind the closed door of the laundry room. I hollered back "Do you need help ?" No answer, all I could hear was running water and a howling cat. A couple of minutes later I heard it again "Help!" I yelled back, "I'm here what do you want?" Still no answer. At this point most people would have probably got up, wandered over, opened the door and checked for themselves. I'm not most people, and I stayed put. The next cry was louder "WILL SOMEONE GET THEIR ASS IN HERE AND HELP ME". That was my cue to call up to my son. "Grady! Dad is calling you. He needs your help". Well why not ? I know Rob didn't specifically ask for Grady, but close enough. To give Grady his due, he didn't hesitate, and went straight in to assist his father.

It would appear that Rob is standing over the laundry room sink struggling with a drenched cat. Grady stood there aghast as Rob yelled at him to get some shampoo. He obviously hadn't thought this through, if he had, he would have taken the shampoo in with him. Typical. Grady scuttles out of the laundry room, cursing "It's like frickin' Twister in there" he growled, "Poo and puddles all over the floor, you can't move without stepping in something" and proceeds to give me a demonstration, which is unfortunate, because his father is still yelling for the shampoo.   

It is a good job Grady hung around to aid Rob because I would not have been much help. It is extremely difficult to offer any useful assistance when one is consumed by gales of laughter. By this time Lindsay and Sidney had joined me, curious in spite of themselves, to see what the commotion was about. I tried to explain, but all I could do was laugh. From what I could hear, (no way was I going in the laundry room) Rob had shampooed and rinsed the cat and now needed to dry it off. You have to appreciate this is a voluptuous cat, so when Rob is yelling at his son to grab him a towel, and Grady optimistically offers up something barely bigger than a facecloth, Rob explodes "Are you kidding me Grady ? Have you seen the size of this fucking cat ?".  That was it, I lost it, totally incoherent.  The girls weren't much of an improvement.  If there is one thing we can do well, it is to laugh at another's misfortune. The worse off they are, the better, and if the object of that laughter is their poor long suffering father, then that is when we laugh the loudest. 

I'm happy to report that the cat is doing much better, and give it another day or two, my husband may actually start talking to me again.