Happy Birthday Kristen!

Kristen turned 18 today. My youngest child is now 18-able to vote, drink and make her own decisions without my consent. I am glad that she has made and is making wise decisions these days so I don't really need to worry. Still, as a mom, I do.


Although she was born on October 31, her due date was October 14. She was 18 days overdue. Eighteen looooooooong days overdue. On October 28, I went to the hospital to be induced. I was put on the drip and after 7 hours, nothing was happening so I was sent home. That was depressing. A few days later I was induced again and thankfully, after a rather intense 4 hours, she was born.

Kristen and I have had some tough times but I think the worst of those times are over. We've both grown, changed and compromised and that makes for a much more harmonious relationship. Her health is still very good and we are so grateful for that.

So, happy birthday Kristen! I love you.

Sammy's bad hair day

In my last Thursday Thirteen, I mentioned that I bought a dog grooming kit for Sammy. We used it yesterday with some success. The dog looks like he's got a bad haircut. Sammy was pretty obedient but he did not enjoy the process. Neither did Wes nor I. By the end of the evening we had all inhaled enough dog hair for a lifetime and were covered in dog hair. We needed a shower, our clothes had to be washed and we could not stop sneezing.

We are giving the grooming kit away.

Before.

After. (Notice how one ear is longer than the other. I must admit that this is one bad haircut!)

The Second Time Ben Kept Me Up All Night

In my previous post, I wrote that Ben has kept me up all night long only twice in my life. The first time was the day of his birth-my water broke around midnight and he was born sometime between 6 and 8 in the morning.

The second time he kept me up all night was when he was 18 years old. At this time Ben had been going out with friends and staying out till midnight or so for at least a year. Most of the time, I'd stay awake until I heard him come home but sometimes, I'd fall asleep before that. Generally, I'd wake up at some point in the night and if I hadn't heard him, I'd just go downstairs and see if his shoes were by the back door. It was a good system. I didn't have to go into his room and wake him up if he was asleep and I could go back to sleep knowing he was safely in bed.

One particular night I had fallen asleep early and sure enough, it was around 1:00 AM when I woke up and hadn't heard him come home. I went downstairs to look for his shoes but they weren't there. I was a little annoyed because it was past his curfew. I was wide awake by this time and decided to stay in the living room and wait for his arrival. I made a cup of tea and began reading my book but by 2:00 I could no longer concentrate. I began to worry. Then, I began to pace. By 3:00 AM I was trying to tell myself that if something happened, the police would have informed me by now. At 4:00 AM I considered calling all the emergency wards in the local hospitals. I also considered calling his friends but was concerned that if he wasn't with them, I would have awakened them needlesly. And then they would worry (probably not but I was not thinking too coherently). Finally, at 5:00 AM I fell into a fitful sleep.

It was a Saturday night and I had to be up early to get to church on time. I was usually involved with the service so I'd often leave early and Wes would come later with the kids. I was pretty tired and stressed so the music practise that I led didn't go too well. When we finished, people started coming in as they usually do and at one point, Wes came in with our children, including Ben. To my sleep deprived eyes, it looked like Ben was swaggering. Because we were in church and there would have been witnesses, I decided not to kill him. Instead, I hissed, "Where were you last night?"

He looked at me, puzzled and replied calmly, "In my bed."
I hissed again, "What time did you come home?"
"I don't know, around 12:30 I guess."
Less hissy, but still angry I asked him, "Where were your shoes?"
He was very puzzled by now, wondering what his shoes had to do with this conversation.

"I don't know. I wore my boots."

Happy Birthday Ben!

I was going to begin this post by saying, "This post should have been written on October 6..." but I am trying my best not to use words like "should, must, have to" and others. They are often referred to as "absolutes" and I use them far too much.

It was Ben's birthday on October 6. My oldest son was born on October 6, 1981 at approximately 8:00 AM. That was the first of only 2 times he has kept me up all night. The second time was not his fault. I suppose the first time wasn't his fault either.

Ben's always been a great son. (Oh no. My first "absolute." I'll keep it in though. Even though we've had our differences, he's always been a great son.) I remember in the year he was born we had a beautiful fall and we spent many happy hours together, he in his pram (Yes. I had a pram) and me pushing it. For about 2 years Ben was an only child and he went everywhere with Wes and I. As long as he had his blankie (yeah, can you imagine Ben with a blankie?) he would settle down and fall asleep anywhere.

Ben was unique from most other children in that when it was time to clean up, he actually did. The caregivers in the church nursery would often tell me that when it was time to clean up, Ben would actually listen and clean up. All the other children would put one or two things away but Ben would get right into it. He's always been a really hard worker. I remember the time when he was probably 8 or 9 and we were expecting Wes's parents for a visit. They were driving from Ontario and ended up coming one day sooner than we expected. I was in a panic. Wes' mom is a dear, sweet woman and she keeps an immaculate house. My house was (is) never immaculate and that day especially, it was a mess. I gathered up the kids (ages 9, 7, 4 and 3) and told them that grampa and gramma were coming IN TWO HOURS. They must have sensed that this was a huge deal for me and they all cleaned up like troopers. Ben however, led the way and I was amazed that he actually saw what needed to be done, without my direction, and then did it. I will always be grateful to him for that.

Ben was involved in volleyball and basketball while he attended school and excelled at both sports. His work ethic was apparent in the way he played sports too. He was focussed and worked hard at doing what had to be done in order to win games. His attitude was good too. He was not in the habit of bad mouthing other teams, refs, or people. In that way Ben has a very balanced attitude towards everything in life. A great character trait to have.

This year, he has turned 25. It is wonderful to see many of the positive character traits I saw already so many years ago develop and grow. He is married to a lovely woman, works hard at his job and volunteers at church. I see him at least twice a week and still enjoy his company. Our relationship is changing. I feel less like a mother who has to take care of him and more like an equal, although sometimes I'd like to take a comb to his hair and razor to his whiskers...

It's been quite a trip. When I held him in my arms 25 years ago, I never gave a thought to what life would be like having an adult for a son. While much about him has changed, it amazes me that my love for him remains as strong and fierce as it did the day he was born. I think that will always be the same.

And so, I'd like to wish a happy birthday to Ben. It is my hope and prayer that this year will bring you great joy, happiness and peace. That wish will always be the same.

Thursday Thirteen

1. Wes and I ate leftover Chicken Caesar Pasta for supper.
2. Sammy, the dog, had duck.
3. Sammy has developed an itchy, uncomfortable skin rash and the vet thinks he’s allergic to his food. Now we need to buy (very expensive) specialty dog food from the vet. As a result, we’ll be noshing on noodles and no name products while the dog dines on duck.
4. Pure bred dogs tend to get skin rashes.
5. I spent 2 ½ hours at the gym today. I feel good but a little tired. I don’t do this every day.
6. I met with a woman this afternoon that lost her husband when she was only 42 in a tragic accident. That was about 14 years ago.
7. Today I bought some dog clippers at Canadian Tire because they were on sale and I thought, “Hey, I cut the hair of my husband, sons, nephews and occasionally my brother-in-law, I can do the dog too.” It came with a DVD which I will watch after I’ve finished my Thursday Thirteen.
8. It was another, absolutely gorgeous fall day today.
9. We had our elm trees trimmed yesterday. The people who were climbing the trees looked like they were having a lot of fun.
10. Several weeks ago my neighbour was getting water in her basement and thought that she would have to replace her water line. It turned out it was our water line that was leaking and WE had to replace OURS. Ouch. That was expensive. She was happy but we weren’t although we now have much better water pressure than before.
11. Today, I took a day off of painting. I was getting pretty bored and tired of it. I’ll get back to it next week.
12. If it wasn’t for Yvonne, I would not be going to the gym as often as I do now. I would have probably quit.
13. We have 3 teenagers living with us and not one of them were here for supper today. That’s why Wes and I had leftovers.

Eric and his Hot Newish Car

When Eric started school, we gave him our 1991 Oldsmobile to drive. We had purchased it for $5,000 in 2001 and it was a good car. Old Betsy finally died near the end of August of 2006 and was promptly sent to the wreckers. This is Eric's new car. A Cavalier. As you can see, he is very proud of it. He bought it at the MPI auction for $800.00 and spent about another $400.00 in fixing it up (thanks Uncle George).

I'm told that it is not exactly a "hot" car. Eric will have to wait for that when he's finished school.

Happy travels Eric!

Darlene

I should be painting instead of blogging but it has been almost a month and I’m sure all my blogger friends are wondering just what it is that I am doing that is so important. I really want to get the painting done because the paint cans, brushes, ladders and other paraphernalia do not fit with my idea of décor.

But blog I must because I’m finally ready to tell you about Darlene.

Darlene has been a part of my life since I was born and while I always knew she was there, it wasn’t until I was an awkward and (I thought but really wasn’t) fat teenager that I began to notice her and hate her. It was Darlene that kept me from ever feeling beautiful and sexy. She would always get in the way of everything I was trying to do. She made it hard for me to put on my shoes, or find pants that fit. She kept me from buying clingy dresses and bikinis. When I walked or ran, she kept wiggling and jiggling long after the rest of me stopped. I tried my best to keep her out of pictures that were taken of me. She has embarrassed me many times and about 8 months ago, I decided that it was time to stop letting her do that.

So, I started going to the gym regularly and faithfully. I am mostly happy with the results except my stomach doesn’t seem to be shrinking much. I am 49 years old and have had 4 pregnancies, all resulting in healthy babies. One was almost 11 pounds. I am beginning to realize that my belly will always hold a prominent place in my body and in my life. I could continue to hate it and let it hold me back but instead, I’ve decided to name my belly Darlene and actually show her the love and respect that she deserves.

I have decided that I will no longer try to hide her. I shall wear clothing that shows her in all her glory. And I will no longer be embarrassed by her. I will accept her as she is. And should she shrink a little more, I will be happy but I will not obsess about her if she decides to stay around.

Darlene is like battle scars or old sports injuries. Pregnancies, unsuccessful attempts at dieting (which only caused me to gain weight) are all part of that lumpy, bumpy, jiggly stretch-marked flesh that is mine. I can let her embarrass me or I can be proud of the fact that she and I have survived and thrived through 49 years of living.

So Darlene, welcome. You may stay. However, the less I notice you, the better I will like it. I promise that I will no longer compare you to others. I will not be jealous of those cute, skinny women who have no idea what it is like to have a companion like you. I will no longer stare at my teenaged daughter and her friends, looking for their companions. And when Wes tells me that he loves Darlene too, I will believe him. And maybe, just maybe, I'll buy myself a biki...

Maybe not.