Garbage pickers

I just don't understand this phenomenon that happens twice a year.

In the spring and the fall, we have a "clean up" wherein everyone purges their old wares and puts them to the end of the driveway, off to the side for the refuse-engineers to collect and take away!

But before they can do their job, the elusive garbage pickers emerge and rummage through your garbage and this, for some reason, makes me uncomfortable. I threw it out. It's trash! If it was good, I'd have kept it!!

But Kenny made me throw out my tapes last night. All my tapes. Now, I have no idea what was in the huge box containing my 80's & early 90's music, but I do know that a lot of work went into making many of those tapes. But, I haven't listened to them in 10 years or so, so why hang on to them. What is bothering me so, is I saw a man going through my garbage and leafing through my tapes. I was coming back from the store with Sean when I saw a truck pulled up to the side of the road in front of our house. This old fella was rummaging through my tapes. He didn't bat an eyelash when I pulled into the driveway, he just kept looking...like he was at an HMV, for God's sake!! Then, as I go into my back door I take one last look at this stranger going through my stuff and I see him walking away with a hand full of tapes AND my tape case that held roughly 60 tapes.

Where the hell was he going?

I wanted to yell out to him; "Hey...what do you think you're doing?", but what would be the point!!?? I threw them out. Well...to be accurate, Kenny threw them out. My mind starts working...what was ON those self-recorded tapes? Anything incriminating?

My mind is searching the archives in my brain...what did I put on tape? Anything naughty? Anything personal? OH, dear God, the anxiety!!

After a deep breathe, I'm fine. Maybe he needs to listen to Wilson Phillips more than I do!!

LIVE LONG AND PROSPER, DUDE!!

The aftermath...

In the spirit of nostalgia, and the fact that my oldest baby turned 7 yesterday, let's take a short trip down memory lane through pictures:

This is Nanny & Grampy P visiting with Gerald Ryan in the NNICU. Ryan was born at 35 weeks so had to go the NNICU to make sure all was well. He spent 6 days there.
This is Ryan @ 3 months. Kathy took this and it is still one of my favourite pics of my little man.
This is Ryan at Sarah's birthday party. He's just over a year old here. How cute is he??
Ryan at 19 months old. All eyes and lips.
Ryan's 4 here. All dirty and digging...his life's work!!

*********

Yesterday was a good day. Ryan is now officially 7, and is less one tooth which brings the number of baby teeth gone now to...6. He lost his tooth in his sleep and though we thought he swallowed it, we did manage to find it as he was tucked in last night. We took the birthday boy and some of his friends to the zoo to celebrate the day. It was ... interesting. Let me just say a couple of things and then I shall never speak of this event again:

• I shall never complain about the "hyper-ness" of my boys again,



• ADHD medications should be given out to some children manditorily (is that a word?),



• NEVER AGAIN will I mix a certain 3 boys in one room again (and I'm not speaking about my children).

Thankfully, it was 2 hours and then it was over. Then it was back home for more festivities with friends and family. It was a long day, but Ryan had a blast. Kenny had filled the pool up on Saturday and the kids were swimming in water that was about...15 degrees Celsius. There were many a kid with blue lips and shivering bodies. But they had fun and that's all that mattered. We ate early, and everyone was gone by 10 after 6. I was asleep by 8 on the couch.

I have lost my voice, I feel pretty shabbily and today it's raining and grey. Almost like mother nature is saying: Kelly...you rest today.

But there is no rest for the wicked. I have 5 days of neglect in this house to look after. Tomorrow, I shall rest....xo

Our first baby...is a baby no more!

Happy 7th Birthday to our Ryan

I can't believe this picture was taken 7 years ago today.

Hello, my name is Kelly, LPN-Extraordinaire!!!

After the stretch of work I've just pulled off, I've decided that I deserve this title and shall wear it proudly. We have been so short at work, it's ridiculous and has bordered on unsafe. Well ladies and gentlemen, tonite, we crossed over to VERY unsafe. But what are you going to do right? There is not Nurses Tree that we can just go pluck off a nurse and send her off to work. No sir! So I just smile, be polite, be helpful and create the illusion that all's well.

We needed at least 7 staff members at work tonite: at least 4 RNs, and 3 LPNs...at the very least. Nope...at 3:30, there were 4 RNs, and 2 LPNs and we were still run off our feet. But then, at 7:30 were had 2 RNs and 1 LPN (me!). We not only ran our feet off, but our asses too. So, when one of the patients asked me what my name was, I replied with smile:

My name is Kelly, LPN Extraordinaire!

Help me, I'm surrounded...

Ahhh, family. Ya gotta love 'em. Whether it's a crazy mother or an over zealous husband, they're yours and sometimes you just have to go with it.

Case in point:

My husband and I have been discussing and toying with the idea of having a yard sale. Now from what I understand, because I've never actually put one one before, these things take a lot of preparation and is probably best done by both the heads of the house hold. This week, my husband decides the deed will take place this Saturday. He's in school during the day this week. I am working evenings. There is no time to pull this together, but I'm letting go of my inner control freak and letting him run with it. I ask him what he wants me to do to help and I get a statement like: "Just go through things and decide what you want to go out in the sale."

I want the contents of the basement gone, (save my trusty computer here), but somehow, I don't think that's what he meant.

So after I finish this post, I shall go through things and decide what goes and what stays. Really, the best time to get me involved is when I'm in purging-mode. Not when I'm on my 3rd consecutive day of less than 4.5 hours (total) sleep per night. I am irrational, I am forgetful and I am tittering on cranky. Do not involve me in anything that requires great thought.

Which leads me to the other current family member who's lost their mind:

My mother.

I had just picked up my father from his new place of employment. Now, just let me say here that my father is nearly 68 years old. The man has provided for his family all his adult life and he deserves to retire. No sir! My mother, the money grubbing, selfish woman that she is has sent him back out into the work force to make money so he's driving children around to school for various day cares. He's a good guy to do that, he's a great grampy and has a certain grampy-esque about him that kids can relate to. And I love my dad. He's the greatest.

Back to my mother.

So I go into the house this morning after picking up my father and taking him home, to say hello to the woman who gave me life. She's sitting on the bed, curling her hair and I notice right off...there's something wrong with her face. Hmm...what is it? Then she looks at me.

Oh, dear God, she's started to draw on herself!!!

She took her eyeliner pencil and drew in her eyebrows. My mother, who has very light eyebrows, and very little hair, which she dyes blond, has decided that her eyebrows are non-existent and feels she should correct this by drawing in, using BLACK EYELINER, brand spanking new eyebrows.

She looks hideous!!

But mum and I have a love/hate relationship. Whenever we're within 10 feet of each other, the backs are up and claws are ready to come out. She's overly critical of everything I do, and I am the same with her. So when I look at her with what was I'm sure, a very furrowed brow of my own, she said: "STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT...WHAT?????? WHAT'S WRONG???"

"Nothing! I'm not saying a thing 'cuz you'll get mad at me!"

"No I won't! Just tell me what's wrong!"

Ok..she asked for it!!

"What the hell did you do to your eyebrows??"

"Shut up Kelly!!"

Do I leave it alone. Of course not...I am HER daughter!!!

"I mean ... MUM! You look like Bozo the clown!! What did you do? You can't go out looking like THAT!!!" How's that for sensitive???

"Shut up (once is never enough)! I have no eyebrows so I had to colour them in!"

"Using WHAT???", I ask.

"Black eyeliner", she replies as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world.

My eyes bugged out, I simply shook my head and giggled softly to myself. Then I look at her and tell her she needs to at the very least blend the line. Seriously...straight, black line, over her eye.

By this time, she's really annoyed with me and I'm feeling that my welcome in my childhood home is quickly fading. My father is out in the kitchen making his breakfast so I go have a few words with him before I come home to start my day.

"Daddy, how long has she been drawing on herself??" I ask.

He giggles.

"You can't let her leave the house like that, she looks ridiculous!!"

Laughter..."What do you want me to do about it!"

And right there, ladies and gentlemen is why my mother does exactly what she wants, when she wants to whom she wants. There is no one to stand up to her when she's being irrational, stupid, mean, or ridiculous.

Except me, and that's why we have the love/hate relationship. She's the woman who gave me life, and for that, as a daughter...I have to love her. But man, does she make it hard to like her!

Facebook

The computer age is something isn't it? We can find out anything....about almost everyone ever born online. And those of us who love playing on the computer know this and we willingly put ourselves out there.

Enter Facebook.

You could spend hours searching out the boy who in the 6th grade took you on your first real date to a movie, hand-holding included, or a classmate from elementary school who moved away but you never forgot, or you could search out the people who have the same name as you and wonder if they had the same humiliating nick-names you had.

Either way, Facebook is here and it's a riot. I love reading what everyone is doing with their lives, what their views are on things, how many friends they have, and share pictures of what their lives have been like to this point. Some are living simple lives, like me...the daily grind, work/pay bills/squeeze in some fun when finances and time allow. Other have taken a big ol' bite out of life and are gobbling it up.

It is these people I am jealous of.

I used to be a person who was all for going out, having a good time, etc., etc.. Now, thinking of a venture to go out is exhausting. Babysitters, working the extra shifts to afford a decent night out, keeping up with the house work so that any babysitter we get doesn't report us for having young children living in a home where the dog hair is truly the beast in control, and then-for me-it's the pouring myself into an outfit that doesn't look frumpy, that can hide the ++ pounds I've accumulated since high school (21 years ago) and still feel good about myself.

See...exhausting.

Some day....I'll say "fuck it" and live large like I was meant to. In the meantime...I have young minds to mould and a marriage to lavish in. Besides...we have the best BBQs/water fights in the Atlantic Provinces, if not the whole country. Right now...it doesn't get much better than that!

:-P

Time....

As I quickly approach my 39th year, I've been reflecting on many things about what 39 years actually is. Sound philosophical? God help me, I've become one of those people who reflect...on everything.

For example: My children! Ryan will be turning 7 on Sunday. Wasn't it just yesterday I was crying in my husbands arms because we weren't pregnant yet? Wasn't it just last week we drove to Halifax to see the fertility specialist down there and they said there was no way we'd ever get pregnant unless we did IVF? No...it was a lifetime ago. Ryan's lifetime. My oldest baby is going to be 7 and for some reason, I'm having difficulty with this. I've been struggling with the growing up process where both children are concerned and instead of celebrating every mile-stone, I dread them and indeed, mourn more the loss of my beautiful infant boys. I so enjoyed the infant stage. That's not to say I'm not enjoying them now, but I loved the simplicity of that stage. All was right with them. They were protected by their mum and their dad. No one could hurt them. No one could make them feel bad about themselves. I loved that.

Now they are out there, meeting new people and absorbing all that they bring with them-good and bad. I cannot choose their friends, nor can I choose who they want to admire or emulate. Perhaps it's a control issue with me...I have been told that people think I want to be in control, though I don't see it. I just want people to be nice to each other, I don't want people to be stupid, and I want everyone to be happy. Anyway, as I as saying, these little creatures that I take no credit in creating for they were gifts from God are becoming their own little people, with their own likes and dislikes, their own ideas, feelings, fears and dreams. Nurturing their lives is an exercise in humility for me. I so want them to be vibrant, well adjusted people who are sure of themselves and are ready to face what life and all its cruelties throw at them. I guess time will tell if I've done well.

In the meantime, I go through my daily routines exhausted. Not only because I put in a full 8 hours at home before I go to work for 3:30 and put in another 8 hours. But because in my down time...the time I'm suppose to be sleeping and resting is when my Sean decides he wants his "mumma" and crawls in bed with me at the ungodliest hours. He's soft, he's warm, he's cuddly, I love the smell of his head ... and he still needs me. There will be days ahead when his crawling in bed with me will no longer be an issue and my sleeplessness will come not from him kicking me or poking me in the eye while he sleeps millimeters from me, but from waiting to hear the car door close, the key in the door, his footsteps down the hall to his bedroom and knowing that my child is safely home.

Jim Croce said it best: "If I could save time in a bottle..."

I've lost it...

Let me set this up...

It's early (much earlier than I'm used to getting up) and I'm driving the boys to school. I drop Ryan off, with lots of hug, kisses and well wishes for the day.

Well done, Kelly. One down...one to go.

Then it's off to playschool for Sean. We head down Whitepine Rd. towards Unicorn Children's Centre and on the way, I see that the street that I would be going down to get back home after dropping Sean off is blocked due to construction (a sure sign that Spring is here). So I make a mental note; don't go the back way home, go down the main drag and up around.

So I drop off my precious 5 year old and after giving him his morning hugs, kisses and well wishes (along with some blown kisses for good measure) I head out, remembering that I can't go home the regular way. So I head down for the main drag, and my mind starts. Yep...I start going into my own little world. I have my tea that I steeped and put in my travel mug, I have Chris de Burgh singing to me, the sun is shining for the first time in a fortnight and all's right with the world. I'm driving along...singing my song...drinking my tea and...wait a minute!! Where the hell am I going??

Before I knew it, I was on the causeway headed for Moncton. Seriously...not in the turning lane, not on the off ramp. No sir. ON the causeway. I say to myself: well...there were really no words for what I was thinking.

It reminded me of the time my beloved grandmother got lost on her way back to the Valley. She had left Riverview and was headed back home, like she'd done many times before and said she'd call when she got home. Four hours passed, (the usual travel time from our house to hers)... no Nanny. Then 5...and 6. My mother was a wreck, thinking her mum had landed herself on the side of the road and was alone, hurt and scared.

Not true!!

My grandmother was in her own little world, singing "How Great Thou Art" on her 8 track in her little car and had missed the turn off for Halifax & the Valley. The province had just constructed a new highway, and this was her first time heading back home on the new one. My little white haired, pleasant, sweet, carefree Nanny had landed herself in Cape Breton. She eventually made it home...only it took her nearly double the time to do so. Bless her heart, she did call when she got home and when my mother asked her what happened, she simply replied she took a wrong turn and that she was having a lovely drive and singing her heart out. She was none the worse for wear.

She was a cutie. I miss my Nanny...may she rest in peace.

So now I'm back home, sitting at the computer and still listening to Chris de Burgh and waiting to hang out laundry. How much trouble can I get into doing that??...xo

Tuesday--May 22nd

It's just like me to find something cool (like my own blog) and have fun with it a bit, then...nothing.

So here it is...May...and it's a whopping 7 degrees CELCIUS out there. Our summers get shorter and shorter. Stupid Global Warming. Things have improved somewhat since Oct/06, but I still have a hard time wondering why it's so hard, so often?? I remember being in my teens and even in my 20s thinking that by the time I reached my late 30's-early 40's that I'd have my life figured out.

I dont'.

There's still so much I don't know about myself and this journey just continues. I'm not the old Kelly and that's not to say that that's a good thing. The old Kelly was a hoot. Not to say that I'm not funny, because I am. But I just seem to be weighed down...like gravity has concentrated so much more of its efforts on my shoulders and that's what I'm carrying around with me. It's not fun. The worse thing is, I know it. And I'm a smart girl, I can do something about it. I'm also a bit of a lazy girl and I'm tired of doing the hard thing and I now want things to come easy to me.

Again, I'm a smart girl. I know that anything worth having is worth the hard work to get there.

It'll come. I'm sure it'll come...in time.

Until then, I'm still wearing my slipper, I'm freezing my ass off and even though fall and winter are my favourite seasons...I want some warmth....just for a bit!!! Pleeeze!!!!