Shirt Goes Missing

Karl’s favorite Iron Maiden shirt recently went missing. It’s faded black with multiple brightly coloured skulls and numerous airvent holes. It was last seen in Karl’s hands where he is quoted saying “Thanks for washing my shirt. Now I can wear it all week and you can’t throw it out”.

The shirt in question has had a long history of controversy. “I think he wore it on our first date. It’s a good thing he’s such a great guy because the shirt really ugly,’ his wife has been quoted saying. It is commonly believed that Anna’s first sentence was “Scary shirt” as she pointed at the shirt.

Foul play is suspected. If you see this shirt, please contact the proper authorities so that the shirt can be properly disposed of.

I dated this guy in college that taught me a lot about what I wanted in a spouse but more specifically what I didn't want in a spouse. It wasn't long into the relationship that I started to gain a picture of what my future would hold with this man and I didn't like it. I envisioned myself working two minimum wage jobs and barely making ends meet . I would come home in my peach coloured waitressing outfit to find my husband sitting on his butt doing nothing all day in our rented interior BC single wide. When asked if he was going to get a job he would always say things like there aren't any jobs out there or he just don't feel like it today or he's better than that job. You get the picture. It wasn't hard to come to this conclusion; in the time we dated he had slept through a job and got fired, he had borrowed money, lived off of his roommates, he had been to the food bank, and he had collected welfare. This was such a foreign thing to me. My parents are hard working and the idea is if you can work you do; at whatever job you can get if necessary.

I am so glad that I married the man I did. He is a hard working man who takes pride in supporting his family. And yet there are men who hate being the bread winner of the family. Hate it. They hate the responsibity and the pressure it carries to get up and go the 9-5 job day in and day out. In some families that's Ok because some women would rather pull their hair out then stay home. In those families the men stay home and the women are the bread winners. In some families both parents are the bread winners. But there always has to be a bread winner or there isn't going to be any bread. (I think that's common sense)

On Your Marks, Get Set

In the not so distant past my husband came home to find that his dinner was not cooked and not even started. Since this is a very rare occasion he didn't really know what to do with himself so he stomped around the house and barked and was just plan grumpy until his tummy was full. I was thinking about this and a number of other similar things yesterday as I baked dozens of cookies and muffins for my family.

There has been talk of me working. For months now we have been living pay cheque to pay cheque and while the bills are getting paid and we have clothes, food and shelter there isn't much for surprises. So as I'm baking, I'm thinking my family really isn't ready for me to be around less. I think my family really has no idea what I do for them and going to work will be a super big shock. Maybe a good shock because there are days when I feel taken for granted. Don't get me wrong my husband works very hard and I am well aware of the things he does do. I'm aware of them because when he does them that's one less thing on my job list. But there are days when I don't appreciate; in fact hate the things on my own job list. Like when the dog shreds the chair cushions that weren't put away properly (by the overworked, overtired husband) it's me who gets to pick up each piece of stuffing that the wind has blown all over the yard.

My friend runs a day home. She was watching sibblings whose Mom was a teacher. They would be dropped off at 730am and picked up at 500pm. They would go home and get to watch one show while the Mom made dinner. They would eat dinner then pick out their clothes for the next day and off to bed by 700pm so they could get up in time to get dropped off.

When both parents are working full time it's a team effort. One of you is feeding the kids while the other one is showering. You both walk in the door at the end of the day tired, hungry and your kids are equally tired and hungry. You're both cooking supper which is something fast (because you're hungry) and cleaning up. The kids are to bed and if I'm teaching then I have planning and marking to do (about 2-3 hours worth.) Then there is the laundry. A load gets done when one of you realizes you're out of socks or underwear. It will get done one evening but not folded or put away until maybe the weekend, it may even sit in the dryer for a day or two. On the weekend one of you is mowing the grass while the other is scrubbing toilets. The kitchen floor may be put off for an extra week. After church you run out for groceries, eat supper, plan for the week and fall exhausted into bed. Oh and that stuffing that has been spread all over the yard... I'm not sure what will happen to that.

Is my family ready for this? I don't think I'm ready for that but the snow pants must be bought so I'm job hunting; reluctantly.

A Gift?

We recently came into a piano. Karl's Grandma has decided to move and no longer has room for her piano. It's old. Really old. We already have a piano, which creates a very unique problem that most people don't have to face; two pianos.

The other piano we have is actually my parents, which we have been in possession of for 11 years. So when the piano talk started we talked. We talked with my parents and my siblings who lived in the area and it was decided that the best place for their piano was right where it is.

Now we have two piano; or almost two pianos. The new one hasn't arrived yet but it leaves to question; what do you do with two pianos? Apparently that shouldn't be a problem because after accepting this heirloom we were told to put the piano is a place where people won't play it.

An Old Entry

I was told recently that I needed to update my blog. I told my nearest and dearest that I just had nothing to write about... that wasn't going to make people upset (ie. homeschool among other things, which seems to be the buzz these days)... it's that opinionated personality coming out again...(which by the way I'm not a fan of but really don't want to debate about either). My friend said why don't you blog about how wonderful I am. You can check out my latest entry called "A Penny Earned is A Penny Saved." It's three or four entries back because I started it a long time ago but never finished it until now.

Hold the Sugar

A little over a month ago I got diagnosed with pre-diabetes. What does this mean? I means I don't have Diabetes but my body isn't digesting sugar as well as it should and if I'm not careful I will have diabetes. I know lots of you are thinking "well get off your fat butt" The media has really emphasised the growing cases of diabetes in our culture and connected it solely to the growing waist bands but there are a few more things that contribute to the disease.

Here are some of the risk factors for diabetes. If you have 3 or more you should be concerned.

1. Diabetes is genetic. You need the gene to get the disease. There are people out there that can sit on their butt and eat junk food all day long and never get diabetes. If you have a parent, sibling or even an aunt or uncle who has diabetes you may also carry the gene. In my case I have uncles on both sides of my family with the disease and with my pre-diagnosis my brothers and children can now check this one off as a risk factor.

2. Being overweight is a risk. This is one of my risk factors however my admiting this on line is by no means an invitation for you to comment on it, become my diet police or sign me up for the biggest loser (which by the way I don't weigh enough to get on anyways). Until you have walked in my shoes for a day or even a week you have no right to comment. You have no idea what I have done or not done to get my weight under control and I would appreciate it if you would hold judgement and especially your comments.

3. Having Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome is also another factor. I also have this. One of the side effects to this syndrome is difficulty to lose weight.

4. Gestational diabetes. I had two cases of untreated gestational diabetes. All of the symptoms were present but I didn't have the glaring blood work that would put me into treatment. Hence untreated. Women with gestational diabetes often get diabetes and often get it 10 years earlier than most people do. I believe this is why I am talking about diabetes at 34 instead of 44.

Those are my risk factors but here are some more (this list is not exhaustive):
5. Giving birth to babies over 9 lbs.
6. Being Aboriginal, Hispanic, Asian or African decent
7. Being inactive
8. Having high cholesteral and/or blood pressure

Here are some of the symptoms to watch for:
1. always feeling thirsty
2. always urinating
3. often feeling tired
4. have blurry vision
5. lose weight without trying
6. have cuts that take a long time to heal

So, what does this mean for me? If I want to continue to live my life drug free and not have to poke my finger 5 times a day than some things are changing. Here is a list of foods I am limiting (again I am monitoring my own diet so if you see me eating it keep in mind the word limiting however don't expect me to eat it if you put it out) white sugar, brown sugar, icing sugar, jam, jelly, marmalade, molasses, syrups, honey, regular soft drinks, fruit drinks, punches, juices, iced tea, syrup, candy, choclate, marshmallows, fried foods, fatty meats, sauces and gravies, regular fruit flavored yogurt, baked goods like pies, cakes, donuts and muffins.

My plate is half vegetables and contains at least two different kinds of vegetables for every lunch and supper. Potatoes and corn do not count as vegetables; they are a starch. I only eat one serving of fruit per meal. Every day I have a least one dark green and one orange vegetable. I am working towards being completely whole wheat and only have a max. of a cup and a half of starch per meal. I try to have a least 3 food groups at every meal and eat every 4-6 hours. I do not skip meals or put them off for large periods of time without a snack to keep my sugars up. (ie. Christmas dinner at 3 pm)

I am exercising a lot. Exercise lowers your blood sugar. The trick is to not let your sugars get too high and also not let them get too low. It's a balancing act. If you would like to invite me over, please do. If you are unsure or uncomfortable, I am don't mind bringing my own vegetables or drinks; as long as your not insulted by it.

So I am still learning. I still have some things to sort out, some weight to lose, more doctors to see, and a few more classes to go to. I might keep your posted or I might not. Some people like to keep their health privite. I tend to lean that way but I felt like some of this needed to be said.

It was an Adventure Part II

I love tenting. I love tenting because I love waking up to fresh air all around me. I don't like RVing because they are too hot at night and I hate cooking in them and the floor is hard to keep clean in them. After packing all the stuff up I must admit the number one reason I might concede to RVing is that it is easier to pack all the stuff but I would still prefer the tent.



We arrive at the campground, say hi to everyone and then proceed to set up our tent. I love our tent. I'm very proud of our tent. It weighs 5.5 lbs, polls included. Not only is it light but it is very easy to set up. We bought it for backcountry and it is rated for three seasons. I love our tent. We have everything set up in minutes and start getting the kids ready for bed. Tesla is sleeping in the trailer with Grandma and Anna is sleeping in the tent with us. She is really excited to use a sleeping bag, until she realizes we mean for her to sleep. Rule number one. When someone is trying to put a crying overtired child to bed do not come over to the tent and wait for a quiet moment to ask if you need any help. Anna cried and cried. She was so overtired and in a different place and we tried everything. I would just get her quieted down and a truck who roar through the campground or a friendly would come over to help and she would start up all over again. We lost track of time but we figure it was 3 hours of crying. She finally went to sleep.



Saturday morning was overcast and cold. Grandma had her heart set on taking our kids to the beach. That was the whole reason we came this far. So no matter how cold or windy it was we were going. Admittedly the girls enjoyed the sand and had a good time. We had enough clothing for them (because I packed prepared) to be able to enjoy themselves. We had a snacky lunch on the beach and I got some great pictures of the girls playing. Definitely a highlight for me even if the wind was a bit much.



We had supper, showers and got the girls ready for bed. Anna, bless her heart went right to sleep. A late night, early morning, no nap and off to bed we go. Probably the best thing that ever happened. It started to rain at 9 pm. The wind was still blowing. The wind was strong enough to make the tent concave on one side. We decided to go to bed incase Anna woke up scared in the storm.



The storm was really bad. The tent was almost sideways. My nose almost touched the roof. One of the fly pegs let go and we decided to move the truck infront of the tent to block the wind. The people in the other tent decided to sleep in a trailer since their tent had already blown down the road. We got pressured to move to a trailer too but declined. Anna was sleeping through all of this. Our tent was dry. The truck was doing a good job at blocking the wind. If we were wet it might have been another story but we weren't going to risk moving Anna and having a repeat of the night before. What do they say: Never wake a sleeping baby. Besides our sleeping bags would get all wet in the move. Did I mention I love our tent?



Karl said the next morning he didn't want to move because he didn't want to sleep in a trailer with 6 people. He has been telling me for months now that he doesn't like people. I think he really means he doesn't like crowds.



We did need to dry out the fly but other than that we were dry. I can't say the same for our farmer's field campground. It was mud. The grass hadn't really come in between the gravel stalls. Did I mention this campground didn't have picnic tables?



So we dried off our tent fly, packed up our stuff, had some breakfast, had the truck boosted and we were off. Karl had decided to listen to the radio with the truck doors open while we packed up. Once we went camping and the people beside us played Polka music from sun up to sun down. We weren't that bad. It was CBC and we turned it on just before 8 and the truck battery died before we left at 930. Definitely not that bad. And we were off on an other adventure... to the Calgary Stampede for a quick Doodlebop concert. They were only playing one day otherwise this adventure would have taken us home.

It was an Adventure

Last summer my MIL called us to tell us about this wonderful campground she found just outside Hanna, AB. She had been driving by and stopped to take a look. It sounded great. Large stalls and a great beach with a playground. She brought up the campground again in November with the hopes we would be able to join her there on July 1st. It came up a number of times throughout the year. Finally, when the campground registration opened up we were willing to commit.



However, my MIL was having a terrible time getting through to the campground to make the reservation. A distant relative who lived in the area recommended a different campground which was just down the road, that was a lot better. The reservations were made without any troubles and Aunts and Uncles were invited to join us. It was going to be a great weekend of camping, and family and even a friend or two.



For two days I packed. I packed the usual camping stuff but for 4 people it takes time to get all the sleeping bags, mattresses, camp stoves, food etc together. Not to mention the clothes. I pack for all weather. If you have ever been camping and it snows or your kids get so cold that they just cry, then you know... pack for everything. I remembered the mitts this time, so we wouldn't have to use socks on the kids cold hands every morning.



We left after Karl got home from work. He figured that it would be a 3.5 hour drive and of course we are going through dinosaur country which is a hugh part of our 4 year olds daily discussion right now. I realize that visiting the Tyrell museum was a bit unrealistic but boy do I like to please my kids when it's as easy as making time to look at dinosaur bones. Alas it was not to be. She asked if we could go today. And she will probably continue to ask at least twice a week for ... forever.



Back to the road trip. We just drive through Drumheller when Tesla says "I have to go to the bathroom." Her timing is always 5 minutes out the other side of town. And we both say in stereo "Why didn't you say you had to go when we asked?" We are just gearing up into "Well you're just going to have to go on the side of the road," when I spot the sign for a rest stop. What a lovely surprise. Right beside the parking lot is the HooDoo's and you can climb on them and around them. And I say to Karl. "Let's take a minute and go look" And he says "We still have an hour's drive and it's already 8pm. I'd really like to get the tent up before dark." Here is the picture I took from the parking lot.


My Mom has been to the Grand Canyon twice. Once with her parents and once as a parent, yet both experiences are the same. We pulled into the Grand Canyon at 10 pm, just as the sun was setting. We were doing this crazy 17 day road trip that included Disneyland and Texas and a family reunion in Oklahoma. Why not include the Grand Canyon? We all got out of the car and took a look. Commented on how beautiful it was then decided we would come back in the morning for a better look and pictures. We still needed to find a hotel for the night. 2 hours later and hundred kilometers away we found that hotel. We never did turn around to get the better look or the pictures; it was too far to back track.



Pulling out of the HooDoo's felt a lot like the Grand Canyon. I can't help but wonder why we are in such a hurry sometimes. Isn't one of the reasons for taking a road trip to stop and see the scenery? But when you are trying to get to a certain place or meet up with certain people the scenery often gets compromised. Right there and then I decided that when we go on holiday's this summer we are stopping a little more often and taking a little more time to enjoy what we can.

When we come up out of the valley this is what we see. Flat land. Flatter than Saskatchewan. Drier than dry. And I say to Karl "Wow this is flat. I think it's flatter than Saskatchewan. Do you like this landscape. Do you think we are camping in a farmer's field?" To which Karl says "I don't mind it. This is what I grew up on." NO. No, this is not was he grew up on. There are trees and rolling hills where he grew up. I don't see any trees or rolling hills. In fact, I don't see anything.

I have many pictures to go with this one, because I already know that I'm going to be blogging, because I already know that we are probably camping in a farmer's field and that there might, fingers crossed, be some planted trees in the campground and that this is an adventure. All week long I have been working really hard to keep my attitude in check and while this may read critical it's really not. In my mind at this moment in time I am thinking realistic thoughts with a postive "it's an adventure" spin on it.

But I am also thinking that I grew up camping in the forest and when I think of camping I always picture trees. A lot of trees. We drove to the Yukon almost every summer as kids. The road to the Yukon provides a great view of trees. I've heard some people find forests crowded almost sufficating and at this moment in my thoughts I come to the conclusion that this may infact be the case with my husbands family; I don't remember ever camping in the forest with them; well except Karl who likes to drive forever to the OLD MAN which I can wait to comment on another day.

We turn the corner and there is the sign. Did I mention this recommended campground is on a Golf Course? I still don't see anything. I mean I don't see ANYTHING. Did we really drive for 3.5 hours for a flat farmer's field?

And there it is. We come over a little hill and see the campground and I laugh. I laugh because I knew it. An RV park in a farmer's field.

A Penny Saved Is a Penny Earned

I was reading this article the other day about how to pinch the pennies. Here's what they suggest:

1. Rent a DVD instead of going to the movies once a month.


2. Do your own housecleaning and let the housekeep go.


3. Make your own bottle of wine instead of buy them.


4. Order in a pizza instead of eating out twice a month.


5. Start using your local library.


6. Have a home birthday party for the kids.


7. Switch to basic cable.


8. Make your coffee at home and take it in a Thermos.


9. Get your daughter a Girl Guide membership instead of the horse riding lessons.


10. Limit the use of bank machines.

This is the second or third magazine that I've come across with articles like this one and I have to say I think the suggestions are weak because it's all common sense. It's like reading a Sophie Kinsella book but instead of it being written as a comedy it's being written for reality. We have two friends who were laid off recently. I'm pretty sure they could come up with this stuff on their own. Anyone who has gone from two incomes to one has already thought most of this stuff up. Oprah has done a number of shows about money too. There was a women on her show recently who unplugged everything when she was done using it. (Like I'm going crawl on my hands and knees behind my dresser every morning to unplug my alarm clock and set the time again every night) There is a theme out there. We are in a recession but surely there must be more to be done.



Part of today's money problem is the access to credit and the required use of it. You can not park in downtown Calgary without a credit card. You can not buy anything online. You can not book a hotel or flight. Buy a cell phone. Get a land line. Order the newspaper or any service at that. You can't even go to my dentist without your credit card. You can't get a lot of things unless you have a credit card. Our society is set up to use your credit card.



Then there is the access to having one. Everywhere you turn you are offered a credit card and each one has different rewards connected to it. The university is covered in credit card companies the first week of school offering the newest and greatest plans. Every department store. Every football game. Every bank. There was a woman on Oprah the other day with 29 credit cards. Seriously?



Then there is the cutting back; which this article was referring to. We definitely live in a must have/I want/right now society. You can always ask yourselves do I need this or do I just want this. Put it on hold and think about it for a few days but to truly cut back depression style will require a bit more.

It got me thinking how did they do it in the depression. Well for starters if you didn't have the money you didn't get to buy; you could pull out your credit card to cover the excess. But really how did they do it?

They saved, reused and recycled everything. I read an article on the internet about flour sacks. In the 20's your flour came in a cloth sack. Once the sack was empty the cloth was used to make girls dresses. Apparently the flour companies began providing a wide range of prints to make their sacks so that the girls all had different prints on their dresses. I thought this was really cool, however it's not possible to do today (just try to make a dress out of a flour sack now... it is paper). The there is making the dress. If you go to the fabric store (which is pretty close to a monopoly in Canada) you will pay far more for the pattern (because making your own pattern is a lost art which got lost before my generation) and the material then you would to just buy the ready made outfit at the store.

My Dad (who did not grow up in the depression but who did live on a tight budget as a child) said when they were growing up they drank powdered milk, they made their own bread,they grew a garden, they didn't eat vegetables or fruit in the winter, they shopped for groceries on Sat. night when everything was discounted (because the store was closed on Sunday and things would go bad if they waited until Mon) and you would never buy paper towel or a magazine to tell you how to save money.

If I was going to write my own article... off the top of my head without thinking really hard but maybe harder than Rebecca Bloomwood...

1. Grow a garden. Freeze, can, preserve what you grow.
2. Hang a clothes line or get a small hanger thing to dry your clothes with air.
3. Change your own oil.
4. Trade and borrow things with friends. Like toys.
5. Buy second hand.
6. Start making things... like baking muffins, breads etc.

Surely these magazine writers can think a little harder because the truth of the matter is most people are looking for something a little more ground breaking then fire the house keeper.

It's Complicated

We were told it would happen.
We knew it would happen.
Now it has happened.

I'm feeling punched in the stomach.

I think we just were hopeful. On Tesla's last day of preschool we handed out cards to 3 of her favorite friends. They read "Tesla is moving and would like to stay in touch with you. Her new address is..." In my heart of hearts I knew this wouldn't pan out and it didn't. We haven't heard from any of these people since.

At Christmas time we sent out christmas letters with our new contact information.

Tonight we sat in our living room with the windows open listening to the birds sing. It is so peaceful. No dogs barking and cars moving. No neighbors. No airplanes. Peaceful. I like it. I like living here.

I don't like starting over. Which is sadly what I think we are doing.

We went to soccer tonight where there are a couple of familar faces. I went to Mom's and Tot's last week... also familar faces. But the truth is these mom's aren't my girls. They aren't the ones I talk to about nothing and everything. They aren't the ones I call nearest and dearest; who know all the things I would write on my secret blog (which has never been started but contemplated more times than I can count.) They aren't the ones who have helped me scrub my kitchen floor or told me off when I needed it. They aren't the ones who... well the list is too long. They just aren't my girls.

We cancelled our annual Christmas party this year. In the past we have invited our friends over for a potluck and gifting. We have always enjoyed it but this year it was too complicated so we decided we would have a housewarming party once we moved. The problem is no one can come. It's complicated. After getting decline after decline we decided to cancel the whole thing. We were disappointed.

The punch came tonight when our old small group changed venues. It probably felt like a punch because it happened so soon after the housewarming incident. We decided to see this group through until the end of the year. It contains many of our good friends. So every third week Karl stays in Calgary wasting a couple of hours until it starts, while I drive in with the girls. We have two vehicles in Calgary. We have PJ's. We have our component for the potluck supper. We have a great time and then we drive home; arriving close to 10 pm with two cranky girls. Don't get me wrong. We have made choices.

We were excited and delighted when this group suggested that we host the wrap up BBQ. Tonight the leader called to change venues because one of the families in our group won't come to our house. It's too far. It will be too late. PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH. All very good reasons, which I totally understand. Really I do. What could we say? No it has to be here. You have to make the same choices we make. We couldn't say that.

Here's what Karl had to say, "I'm not surprised. I kind of expected it. It would have been nice if someone else made the effort for once. I'm not sure I want to hang around the city for a couple of hours on a Friday night."

The familar faces said it would happen. Most of them have moved here in the last 3-5 years. They said people will come in the beginning. They said people will stop coming.

People have stopped coming. It's definitely slowing down. Is it true then? Are we really going to do this? Am I really going to have to start looking for replacements for my girls? Dare I ask... are they replaceable? NOT ON YOUR LIFE but...

We do have to do something. Tesla is feeling it. We are feeling it. We invite people but they can't come. We've offered to meet people half way, at their house, at a common place... some are still checking their calendars. But the fact of the matter is we can't always be driving to Calgary and our friends can't always be driving to our house. If we have 15 friends and go to each of their houses once that is 15 trips we make to the city. If they all come to our house once that is one trip for each of them to make but we can't always expect people to come here. It's a problem!

Those Lazy Summer Days

I took my first swimming lesson when I was 9 years old. This marked the beginning of some very enjoyable summer memories. Every weekday morning my brothers and I would join our friends (another family with 3 kids) on the grass beside the pool. We would sit there in the sun playing with our mothers talking in the background. Every half hour someone new would come out of the pool and someone else would leave for their lesson. I don't think any of us were in the same lesson so we spend hours at the pool waiting our turn. It was fun. It was perfect. You were either excited about cooling off in the pool after waiting in the hot morning sun or warming up under the sun as you dried off. Once that round of lessons were done we would sign up for the next one. It cost $10 for two weeks of lessons.

We spent two summers following this routine. It was the third summer that it all fell apart. I was 11. This was the summer that our friends decided not to take swimming lessons. This was the summer that my instructor was 14. This was the summer when I started being self-conscience in a bathing suit. And this was the summer I decided to hide my bathing suit so I wouldn't have to go. I was actually a pretty good swimmer but I had started too late. I couldn't get past my perceived embarrassment of being 11 in a class with a bunch of 8 and 9 year olds and a 14 year old instructor. Finally, without our friends it was just boring waiting. That was the last round of swimming lessons for me and my brothers.

Now my girls are taking swimming lessons. They are considerable younger and that is OK. They won't be 9 wearing water wings. They might even have a chance to become lifeguards one day; which is a great summer job if you're a teenager.

Everything is changed. Most pools are indoor now. They have warmer water and you're not exposed to the elements. Lessons are year round so we all sign our kids up at different times of the year. I don't have friends to visit with during lessons. I almost had Tesla signed up with a friend but they had to cancel at the last minute. Even if we were all signed up for the same set of week of lessons, I don't think people are willing to sit around all morning on the hard chairs or bleachers that are provided at the indoor pools. And if were at an outdoor pool I don't think people would sit and sunbathe all morning at the grassy edge; there are too many skin cancer concerns. Of all my friends only one still embraces those lazy summer days. Her kids only do swimming in the summer; every morning; all summer; at the outdoor pool across the street. I kind of envy her. While the rest of us are stuck on a hard chair at the edge of some pool, surrounded by complete strangers, she is sitting on the grass with her kids playing beside her. She is enjoying the sun and the company of a neighbour. It's great for her. It's great for her kids and it's great for her community.

Please, want to!

We were driving through Olds the other day and Anna suddenly said "McDonald's. Chicken. Please, want to." While I am slightly embarrassed that my two year old is so familar with McDonald's my heart is rejoicing at hearing her put so many words together with such clear intentions.

When Anna was a year old I took her for her annual check up at the doctors. These visits always start with some measuring of weight, height and head circumference. Then the doctor comes in and listens to her heart and lungs. She looks in her ears and mouth; checks her hips and organs. Finally, the doctor asks a series of developmental questions. It was on this first year visit that the alarms started.

"Does she respond to her name? Does she come when you call her from another room? Can she follow a simple direction?" No, No and NO! No Anna didn't do any of these things. She didn't cry at sudden loud noises. She never responded to her name and especially didn't come when you called her from a different room. Once in a while she would dance to loud music but really. Sleeping through loud noises? This is the first time that concern was raised about one of our girls. We left with a referral to have her hearing tested.

As I drove home I start picturing my sweet little girl with outragously big hearing aids. I could see her in school trying to follow along. The teacher has a headset and microphone attached that feed directly into her hearing aids. The really large ones that the kids make fun of. And in my mind my sweet little girls is sad and lonely and confused about being different. And my heart is breaking just thinking about it; wanting to protect her. At the same time I am rallying the troops in my head to be as supportive as we can.

The waiting is super hard. Poor Anna. We called her name and called her name and called her name... trying to get her to respond. I searched the internet looking for reasons kids don't respond to their name. The internet can be so bad at times... Autism. Autism. I thought I was going to be sick. And there were check lists for that to. Which I went through and got mixed messages. I watched videos of autistic kids at 1 years old and listened to the commentary about what to look for. And finally we got the appointment.

She passed with flying colours! She could hear! They were sure. Absolutely sure. But...

She didn't respond to her name for the audiologist, who got a little bit pale after the third attempt. Then said "Well, if she doesn't start responding to her name by 18 months you should get her checked for cognitive delays." Which means autism.

So a year later when Anna says "please want to" (even for McDonalds) or tells us knock knock jokes (that truly aren't funny) or draws happy faces (that are sideways) and pulls off her diapers (when they are full), I am mostly just pleased that she is getting all of this and getting it so well.

Happy Mother's Day Mom

My Mom wrote this a long time ago and it's been sitting in my in box ever since. I thought it was neat so I'm sharing it with you.

My full name is Donelda Louise ... (nee Midgett) at this time, as I am married to ............
I have always like my name!
As far as I know I am not named after any relatives or friends.
I understand Donelda is of Scottish descent. That makes sense as my mom Effie Lavina Midgett (nee ...) has Scottish ancestors.
I am glad my parents spelled Donelda with an "e" in the middle. I've always felt relieved: it wasn't Donald (like the boys name) with an "a" added on. Don "e" lda sounds softer and more feminine in my mind.
I have known acquaintances and had friends with the first name Louise. I've like all of them so it just makes my middle name more favorable. I feel Donelda Louise runs together smoothly too and that pleases me.
My maiden name Midgett sometimes caused a few laughs and a bit of teasing. Men and women in my immediate family are large boned-- as termed by other people. My grandmother, Midgett, was six feet or taller. All the men are also six feet tall or more. Most of the men have large tummies too.
My mother though barely made five feet so marrying Clyde Midgett made her height a tad comical.
I guess another reason I so like my name is it is unusual. I was the only Donelda (spelled anyway) in the whole of the Yukon Territory, Canada as I grew up. I have never had anyone criticize it.
Only twice in my life have I got angry with someone about their mistreatment of it (Donelda).
A) a family friend thought he should shorten it to Don. I replied that's like a guy --- No Way. Well, then make it Dawn like the morning he said. I said No Way -- that's totally changing it. He then in his sense of being funny said Make it Donkey. I was instantly mad and said That's what you are and walked away. He apologized profusely and tried everything to make up for his terrible mistake (for days he almost begged). Our friendship was never as close after that. He remained a family friend for years.
B) Another male family friend entered our home and called me Donel -- ie one day. I told him he knew my name and should use it properly. The next time he called me Donel--ie I got mad and said I won't respond to you unless you call me properly. He couldn't believe I would be so stubborn. If I remember right I won that battle quickly; he didn't like not being acknowledged. I have fond memories of other experiences our families shared together and he was always there -- still respected.
Once during my teen years I dated a fellow that shortened my name to Del. It think that lasted three days. I couldn't figure out where he got Del from. I don't remember any negative reaction to him using it but have a sense I was glad he went back to Donelda.
I love how my Aunt Mary says my name, Donelda. I don't know if its the placed emphasis on the syllables, the softness of her voice (which is very similar to my Grandma--her mom) or her Texas drawl. I wish we didn't live so far apart or phoned more often. If we did I'd hear her say it to my delight.
I was twenty four years old, married with children here in .....before I ever heard my name,........ called out for someone else. I was just entering a drug-store with one or two of my children. Someone inside yelled Don a lda --get out of There...in fear. I knew they didn't know me and I knew I wasn't in danger. I asked the cashier for an explanation. Don a lda was an employee bent down on one side of the shelving unit. Another employee on the other side of the shelving unit was up on a step stool stocking the top shelf. Something she did caused stuff to fall off and probably land on Don a lda. The yelling was to warn her not me. I knew this Don a lda as an employee of the store for years.
I have never know any other Don a lda's but have been told of a few.
I know of no one else who spells it with and e. Donelda
I have always liked my full name! Donelda Louise ... (nee Midgett).

Movin' to the country gonna eat a lot of peaches...

Well we made the big move and we have been here about a month and a half. The activity of moving has died down. The snow is melting, all the important things have been put away. Many of our nearest and dearest friends have come out for a visit and now we are settling into our new normal.

We have seen wildlife. Last night we had three dear eating grass in our front yard. They were there for a least an hour. There is a moose in the area. We've seen him a couple times.

Our girls have discovered the rocks. Every day they go outside and fill their pails up with rocks. They move them around, dig them, water them, dump them and then start all over again. The need for mud pants is very apparent.

When have started making lists. When we go to Calgary we have a list of about 10 people we want to see and about 20 things we need to get. We are lucky if we see any of our friends and get about 10 of the things we are looking for. At the end of the day 3 tired girls head home and Mom's head is filled with the things we didn't get, wondering where she will get them and an hour to stew about it plus feeling guilty that she snuck into town and didn't see any of her friends. It takes the whole day and often feels like we have accomplished nothing.

My very tired husband went to bed at 9 pm last night. I was amazed he lasted that long. He is on generators this week which means he starts work at 530 am. With the hours drive in he was out of bed at 4 am. He is already getting pretty frustrated about not getting to do the things he wants to around the farm. By the end of the work week he is left with about a day and a half to fix the generator, build a deck, put this tools away and fix the road. When the snow is melted we are putting the garden in and there is always fencing. I'm truthfully not sure how long this will last. Ironically I am here all week and have the time to do these things but I don't know how or even want to fix a genrator. Plus he told me last week "You're really bad with a tape measure."

I got invited to a girls night out. It got cancelled at the last minute so I didn't get to go. It felt like starting high school all over again. What if they don't like me? Will I never have friends again? I was kind of relieved to have another week to mentally prepare. It's different then starting a new job. Even if your collegues don't like you they won't stop inviting you to work. My kids will go to school with these women's children for the next 13 years. I can't screw this up.

It struck me this morning that it would be very easy for a person to get depressed when they move. I'm not depressed but I can understand how it could happen. You don't have any good friends in the new community. No one to call up at the last minute to say you want to drop by or meet somewhere. In our case, our old friends are just a short hour drive away. But somehow that short hour drive away is a very long hour. It really takes the whole day to go to Calgary. When you move to a new community there are a lot of new people to meet but no close friends. It could get pretty lonely. Lucky for us we have family across the road, a phone and the internet.

Odds and Ends

There is one clear thing I can remember about my Grandma; she loved rubber bands. There was always a stack of stuff on the kitchen table and if you sat and surveyed what was there you would see at least 3 rubber bands. Everything that could be wrapped in a rubber band was. There was a band around her wallet, a stack of paper, containers etc. I really didn't think much of it until the day my Mom commented on it. "Rubber bands are gross. They dry up and they smell and when they get old they break..." Another time I heard her and her brother talking about them. After hearing them talk, I would bet that my Mom and all her siblings avoid the use of rubber bands. OVERUSE comes to mind.

A few years ago my Mom started using tape. A lot of tape. She would tape notes to everything; the computer screen, kitchen counter, van consol. My sibblings and I were relentless in our commentary on the taped notes. Some of us were worse then others but they will remain nameless.

It wasn't until my husband started making comments on paper clips that I started to see a pattern. I can not stay away from paper clips. If I see one on the table or counter I will pick it up and play with it. When I was teaching I always had at least one in my pocket. I don't recall ever buying a package of them however I do possess a large number of them. Multiple sizes. Multiple containers full of them. When I was teaching I would use them to hold class sets of assignments together. (Teaching is more about paper than you can ever imagine.) It's all very innocent but to hear my husband talk about it and you wouldn't think so. I've stopped commenting on the tape.

My Grandma had rubber bands, my Mom has tape and I have paper clips. A proud family quirk. And then it happened. My husband has joined the ranks. He has a thing for ice cream pails. When we were cleaning the garage and house I started finding his stash. One under the bed, 2 under the work bench, 7 more floating around the garage, 3 in the storage room. And I quote "You never know when or where you might need a pail." Really!?!

So I must correct myself.... My Grandma has rubber bands, my Mom has tape, I have paper clips and Karl has ice cream pails.

How old is too old?

The other day I watched my husband take tylenol that was passed it's expiry date. When I asked him about it he just shrugged it off. I told someone else about this they said they ignore the expiry dates on Tylenol as well. Apparently there is more than one person out there who doesn't care about expiry dates. This leads me to the question, how old is too old? Would you take tylenol that was a month old? 6 months old? a year? 10 years? If you aren't following the expiry day then where do you draw the line? And does this disregard of the expiry dates apply to all products? There are expiry dates on dairy, cereals, breads, meats, juice, medication, contact solutions, contacts, car seats, poison, and condoms. So I must ask again, how old is too old and do expiry dates apply to any of these products?

Pink, twirly and puffed sleeves.

I must admit I was a little shocked at how young our first born was when she developed an opinion. She was 6 weeks old and had decided she only liked to feed from one side. I tried everything to trick to eat from both sides and there were a few times I was grateful we had a pump. By 3 months we had convinced her that she should re-think her position.

Now she is four and for the last year and a half she has been sharing her opinions. She has many opinions. I really shouldn't be surprised. I have many opinions and her Dad is one of the most stubborn people I know. Most people don't believe me when I tell them that Karl is more stubborn than me but the fact is that I am more likely to change my position before him. We both have our "things" that we just won't let go of. Some might call them grudges. Ask Karl about the time he got potato chips when he was expecting french fries or about the hair stylist who put mousse in his hair. The point is that our daughter is a product of both of us. She is passionately opinionated and super stubborn. Both qualities have their place (like standing up for yourself when faced with peer pressure) however... well let me give you an example.

TESLA'S GUIDE TO GETTING DRESSED

• Dresses must be worn every day. Preferrably sun dresses.
• It must be pink.
• And have puffy sleaves or no sleaves.
• And be twirly.
• Shirts are not worn with dresses; so no jumpers. This rule also includes sun dresses.
• Pants are not worn with dresses
• Only tights with feet can be worn otherwise they are considered pants.
• Dresses must meet all criteria

This would be fine if she had 7 pink, twirly, puffy sleaved dresses and our weather didn't go down to -30. Every morning we have the same discussion and the result is that her sun dresses are hidden. Gone! Some dresses have been dirty for a while. She has missed preschool because she took too long getting dressed. She has been cold. She has been angry. She has worn pants! Did I mention she has been angry?

My friends laugh. My parents tell us to take away the choices. Karl's mom keeps giving her dresses. And we keep working with her.

I love my daugher. She is bright and fun. She is creative and talkative. She wants to be a princess and look like a princess and I can't fault her for wanting to be special and feel pretty. At somepoint she will have to learn practicality and reasoning and flexibilty but I'm pretty sure we are still a long ways away from that... at least about dresses.