Well, this morning we dropped Toby off for his adventure on Saltspring and then Parker, Eliza and I went swimming, ate donairs (man those kids can eat!), and came home for Parker's nap. It is so damn quiet in this house. Eliza and I ate some play-doh pizza, watched the Wiggles and, well, that's it. We are now anxiously waiting for Parker to wake up as the silence is BOR-ING.
I miss Toby and Tristan. I miss Tristan correcting everything I say because she is, well 8 years old and a girl and therefor, always right. I miss Toby begging me to snuggle with him and read the Playmobil catalog for the 275th time.
I don't miss their constant bickering.
I think what it comes down to is that I live in the middle of fucking no where and without 8 grubby feet stomping around demanding everything from me "RIGHT NOW!" I am lonely. Lonely and stranded. Where is the damn mall when I need it. Plus, I only have like $100 to last till monday and it's not enough! Every two weeks Shane deposits our paycheque, and pretty much every time I use up all that money in ten days. He stresses. I pleasure him in one way or another (that's my business internet!) And then he gives me another $300 and says "this HAS to last!" Oh yeah baby.
We have been struggling to live within our means for the past year and pay off all our debts. We have been mildly successful. We have no debt. Mostly because we re-mortgaged our house (that doesn't count as debt in our books) and paid off all our cards. As Shane is self-employed our income varies depending on business and sometimes the direction of the wind. Usually, there is wiggle room and I probably take up all that wiggle with my discretionary spending. Bad me. I had a short-lived addiction to eBay which I had to give up cold turkey before I spent our entire fortune. When you live in the middle of no where spending on-line is really the best way to spend on things you absolutely DON'T need; like the vintage Fisher Price Record Player.
So, I'm trying to live within our means, but crappity crap it's hard.
Shane and I have our own way of cursing that is unoriginal and funny to only us. Like the all time fav: fuckin fuck. Really, it comes down to having no brain when mad and the only thing that comes out is variations of fuck. We actually keep our curses to ourselves for the most part now because we have so many fucking kids. We realized it was a problem when Toby lay down on the floor amongst all the relatives at Christmas time to play with his new toys and started saying things like "goddammit batman get out of the damn car, Jesus Christ!" It was funny for a moment and then terribly humiliating.
I miss Toby. I miss Tristan too.
Parker's up! Booby time.
Weaning soon…. real soon.
As we live in the country and the nearest mall is an hour away and going to the mall with four kids is usually a hellish experience, we never go. I hadn't really thought much about it because I grew up in Vancouver with a mother who's idea of quality time with her youngest of four children was hanging out at the mall. My idea of quality time is sitting on the balcony with my iBook while the children entertain themselves with power tools, well actually, half the entire Little Tykes catalog circa 1997-2003.
So, anyway, I assumed that my children didn't care about the mall or shopping or had somehow inherited enough shopping experience from me?
I was wrong.
Today, we drove to the Hell's Angels capital of Canada, Nanaimo, to drop my oldest daughter, Tristan, off at the ferry to spend the week (at the mall i suppose) with my mom and my rich sister. As an aside, my mom in all her wisdom, said "how nice, now you'll only have three kids to take care of"…. Three kids? Only three under 6? Now that's a regular week at the spa!
So, we were in Nanaimo at 10 in the morning and going to check out the mall there seemed like a good idea. Even better, when we got there the first store we saw was Toys R Us. I am realizing that my kids are a little deprived as Parker had never been and Eliza can't remember ever going! Wow. I think I have embraced online shopping a little too heartily. Needless to say there was much overstimulation and many items added to the "when is Christmas anyway?" wishlists.
I managed to walk away with only a new noodle for swimming and a basket for Eliza's bike. I try and hold fast to the toys only at birthdays and Christmas rule as after four kids we have pretty much a full supply of toys – most of which don't get played with.
Lucy is one of those dogs that only an owner can love. She's a little chunky, she's a little dim and she's got a funny haircut. Yet, we can make her howl any old time, she wanders around with all kinds of debris hanging from her and she loves us. What else could we want?
Not much to say. I just went out on a date with my oldest daughter for sushi and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and now I have a mind-blowing oompah loompah headache.
youch.
I now have 11 chicks and one baby turkey. The turkey we call christmas dinner; trying to persuade ourselves that we will actually follow through on that plan. Ya right. The chicks are chick like and cute and by some fluke we seem to have only one rooster. Roosters are pretty much worthless as we are a laying hen kind of hobby farm, plus we already have two roosters – Stanley and Charlie. My prize chick is a little white cochin, she is the cutest thing in the world. The chickens are helping to fill the void my body feels with not being pregnant again, as well as my heart.
Today I took my kids swimming at the lake. It was beautiful and it finally feels like summer. My four year old daughet, Eliza, is allergic to peanuts and tree-nuts. When she was 15 months old she stopped breathing in front of me, then she did it again two more times in a two week period. I had never really felt terror until that time. Finally we figured out what the hell was going on; her nut allergy, the first reaction, as well as an anaphylactic allergy to dairy – which she grew out of this past year. Anyway, my life runs slightly different because of her allergies than a lot of other peoples. I never leave the house or her side without my allergy bag strapped firmly across my chest. We have epipens in pretty much every room in our house. Her last reaction turned life threatening in 6 minutes. Each reaction speeds up. Whenever I go into any new room or place i scan countertops, floors, childrens faces and hands, brands of food, dog food, bird food you name it I check it, even under sofa cushions. All to ensure her safety. People think I am insane. I have already started grooming her future kindergarten teacher.
So, today we get to the beach. All is well and nice and summery. Tristan and Toby are fighting/swimming and Eliza and Parker are splashing around and playing in the sand beside me at the edge of the water. I was not really paying attention to all the specifics as I was trying to make sure nobody drowned (except me), but I noticed some little plink plink plinks in the little water puddle that Eliza and Parker were playing in. In a millisecond i realized that some bitch (of course she didn't realize my wrath) was throwing pistachio shells into MY childrens little puddle! She might as well of been throwing little bombs in there. She was laughing and smiling at them and me. My rage was barely contained as I ripped Eliza out of there and yelled at her that Eliza was allergic to nuts and all i get? A fucking pathetic "they're not peanuts". Bitch.
Last. When we were in Vancouver i somehow lost my iPod between my parents driveway and their house. I was very bummed about that. I definately don't have the money for a new one, plus I am saving my money for a new Canon digital camera. But, today, my brother-in-law who happens to be the nicest guy in the world AND who bought me an iBook 6 months ago for my birthday gave me his because he wanted a shuffle instead. I love him and i'm so glad i married his brother.
