Saturday, February 28, 2009

Because some days are lucky lucky lucky

B's hockey team had some money left over. One of the other kids' dads knew a guy who knew some guys who were doing some fundraising for an organization called HEROS, the Calgary chapter. With a very generous donation from one of the other dads, and the leftover money in the hockey team's pool, the entire team plus parents and siblings had a party tonight.

This picture is worth the next 10,000 words I could type.



No, that is not a replica. It is the real thing.

Friday, February 27, 2009

And here I am again

Dizzying, trying to keep up with the sheer volume of new posts here these days, isn't it? (although I have heard rumours of high school friends who found me on facebook trying to read the whole thing from start to finish, and may I just say, I admire your fortitude? That's a whole lot of silly to wade through.)

Right then. Let's do a numbered list, just for fun.

1. Mom is still in the hospital with a stomach that refuses to do anything but chuck stuff back up the pipe it came down in. She's getting discouraged and I am trying to be Cheerful. It works better some weeks than others.

2. Never say this out loud : "My children just have not done much puking" because if that isn't inviting a smackdown, nothing is.

3. We've all recovered from the smackdown.

4. In the same vein as #2, don't even think "Wow, what an easy knitting pattern. I've totally got it memorized already" lest the next thought in your brain be "What is that purl stitch doing here where all the knit stitches should be?"

5. I had two socks for B each half-done. The non-linear nature of such an approach gave him hives. "Why don't you just FINISH one already?" he asked and I realized I either had to finish the first sock* or admit to my nine year old that I was afraid of doing the next part (gusset. ick spit) because it might be difficult. As this is an attitude we as parents are attempting to eradicate from our children, I sucked it up and knit the fragging gusset.

6. Thank heavens for teenagers who don't see the world the way I do. I was knitting a hat to match the cabled scarf in the pic in some previous post. (by the way, it's not orange, it's PAPRIKA, according to the people who dyed the yarn, and THEY SHOULD KNOW) A looked at the hat and while I forget her exact words, they were something along the lines of "There is no one on this planet that will fit." I started to tell her I was just going to finish it and try it on when I imagined her reaction, and the valid point she would make about whether or not that would make any sense. I threaded the thing onto a piece of scrap yarn and yanked it onto my head. As the blood began to leave my brain and the room began that spinning thing it does, I went to show A. "See?" I said. (remember - blood loss to the brain) She was not convinced. I went to look in the mirror.

Yeah. Frogged.** Looking for 8mm double pointed needles as we speak.

7. The neighbour's baby is home, and is tiny and beautiful and very very thoughtful. While there are many health hurdles yet to be faced, their little family is experiencing a time of peace, praise God.

8. Despite all my best hopes and dreams, supper has not yet learned to cook itself, so ...bye :)



*(even though the second sock was up to the heel flap and I love heel flaps. Every time I "turn a heel" (that's knitter talk) I gaze on it in wonder and feel like a small miracle has occurred)

**(expression meaning "ripped it out" ie rip it, rip it, or ribbit, ribbit ...you can all sleep well now)

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Hey, hi

I'm still here. People seem to still be checking, so I thought I'd wave. If you all had bloglines or some kind of Feed Checker thingy (TechnoBoy's heart is bursting with pride at my demonstration of computer-savvy right there) you wouldn't have to check, you could just get notified. Ask someone else how that works, though.

So today is True Confession Day. I've been Facebooking lately with people from all the various stages of my life, which is ...well, frankly, a bit mindblowing. High school dorm friends. Wow. It was a small dorm, there weren't a lot of us, and we were without parental influence. And we had the exuberance of youth in our corner. There are Memories, and there are curious gaps in my memory. Really? I want to ask. You can hear my laugh when I type? and then I wonder What did that sound like? Did I laugh the same way I laugh now? And some insecurities surface - well sure we got along then but I ...kinda grew up. A little in some ways and alot in others, and yes ohmyheavens I would LOVE to see you and YES we should all converge on L in her southern home with her gaggle of children but but but ...will you like me now? Will you like who I am now?

It's all very odd, but a marvelous distraction from the Hospital. (Am saying no more about the hospital because a) I've been sick so I haven't been able to go up there and b) there's no change in either direction and c) I struggle with allowing myself to not be everything for her. She's got God, I'm just icing on the cake. God can look after her whether I am parked at her bedside or not.

So the True Confession part - you all thought I'd forgetten, didn't you? (look how cute I am, pretending people read this.) Well here's the thing. I've been facebook chatting and being all flippant and goofy and throwing out one-liners but now they're going to come and read this blog and find out ...

I knit in church.

And if that doesn't make me sound enough like an old lady - I knit in church to keep myself from nodding off.

HOWEVER it's not because I'm old and boring, although that may be true. I am almost incapable of single tasking. (High school friends are shaking their heads in disbelief. All that shrieking was about lack of focus? Who knew?) It is remotely possible that I have some form of ADD. (Cue guffawing from all corners of the globe) Sitting still makes me doze off - sitting still and knitting does not. I knit socks in church, so it's a small project, and I knit on bamboo needles so that when I drop one (you will notice I said WHEN, not IF) it does not clatter to the floor making a loud metallic scene. I have yet to ask our pastor what is more distracting, watching me knit or watching me fall asleep, because I'm scared he'll say both and I'll be back to having TechnoPotCallingTheKettleBlack punching me in the arm when he wakes up and sees me asleep.

And in the interest of full disclosure - I recently went to coffee shop to meet with a group of strangers I met on the internet. (A's reaction: "Way to get stuffed in a trunk, Mom! If you are late, I am SO calling the cops!") I did this for the express purpose of ...

knitting in public.

And I plan to do it again.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I'm going to go knit in the bathtub. Just as soon as I figure out how.

Friday, February 13, 2009

For better or worse

Sunday was not my finest hour, wife and mother wise. To say that I am sick to the back teeth of this whole mother-in-the-hospital, yes-she-does-appear-to-have-something-amiss-if-we-could-just-figure-out-what thing is not only long-winded but understated. She's tired of it, I'm tired of it, and I can't shake the feeling that it's pure selfishness on my part to rail against going up there every day, an hour round trip, oh poor healthy me, having to be unselfish. Friday morning she woke up when I came in and said "Mom?" and I said, "No, it's just me" and she sagged against the pillows, deflated, and said "I want my mother."

So do I, I thought. So do I.

Sunday when I was done throwing things and yelling and crying and then apologizing to everyone I'd traumatized, I thought I bet my kids want their mother too.

Monday I hung up on TechnoLongSuffering not once, not twice, but three times. Three out of three times *I* called *him* only to spit something sarcastic at him and slap my phone down mere moments later. Some rational shred of who I am whispered "God? I think I am at the end of my capacity to cope here." but that's as far as the reaching for self-control went. I had to teach a class that night, which went astonishingly well and was energizing and distracting and driving home I realized I hadn't thought about The Hospital one single time, and I got out determined to Be Kind if it killed me. I came in prepared to apologize and be a grown up and walked into the kitchen ...and there were flowers.

He bought me flowers.

I hung up on HIM, and he bought me flowers.

I hung up on him THREE TIMES, and he bought me flowers.

If that's not loving your wife like Christ loves the church, I don't know what is.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

If you had a black leather jacket ...





Which scarf would you want? (there is no black in the striped one, even though the picture might look like it)

There's no pic of the cabled one alone because apparently even with an autofocus camera, I can't take a picture in focus.