Archive - September 2010

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Feeling Saucy
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Nothing Says Sad Like A Soggy Sandwich
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There Will Be Tears
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Hard Labour Day

Feeling Saucy

In the past two weeks, my baby girl flew the coop and flocked off to Kindergarten, I went on an adventure to the Big Apple, and dipped one toe back into the teaching pool… All good things, but I’m left feeling a little worn out. And when I’m tired I do moronic things.  Much to the amusement and/or horror of those around me. Like making spaghetti sauce sandwiches for the kids. In a tired stupor last night, I mistook the spaghetti sauce jar for the jam jar. For some reason the kids weren’t overly enthused about cream cheese and spaghetti sauce sandwiches in their lunch boxes. They’re picky like that.  Ingrates. 😉

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Nothing Says Sad Like A Soggy Sandwich

Parenting is challenging. Not exactly a newsflash. But parenting a child with special needs is challenging in ways I never expected. The love I feel for both my children is equal, but the fear and uncertainty around my daughter is more gut wrenching and harder to shake. I’m fairly certain friends and family had a betting pool about the state I’d be in today. Well, sorry to disappoint those who put their money on Train Wreck.  Turns out, this morning I was merely a titch tender.  What these gamblers didn’t know, was I got most of my tears out yesterday.  What set me off was making lunches for the kids last night. As I quartered Avery’s grapes, it hit me that I wouldn’t be there to help her.  I boo-hooed as I cut off her sandwich crusts and then sobbed when I noticed tears had fallen on her bread. I’m not exactly sure why I found that so sad. Anyway, during this melt down, my poor husband was doing the nervous eye dart, back and forth as if to say, “Holy shit. My wife has lost it. What do I do now? Anyone. Anyone??” Fortunately, an intervention wasn’t necessary. By[…]

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There Will Be Tears

Avery starts school tomorrow. Full day Junior Kindergarten, three days a week. I….am a wreck.  Many kind people have reached out to tell me, “It’s ok. It gets easier. She’ll love it. You’ll be fine.” All thoughtful and well-meaning comments. And it’s true, she will love it. And she will be fine. But will I? And will it really get easier? I felt the usual pangs and sentimental sorrow on my son’s first day of Kindergarten four years ago.  But it got easier, fast. But he didn’t stand out from his peers in a blatant and painfully awkward way. I didn’t have to meet with the school to discuss emergency procedures and ambulance protocol. He didn’t have to wear a helmet at recess to protect his curly haired head from frequent falls on the unforgiving blacktop. He didn’t have his own personal Educational Assistant shadowing his every move to ensure his safety. He didn’t wear a diaper. He didn’t receive quizzical looks from his peers or other parents. He was happy. He fit in. I didn’t worry. But this is different. Now I worry. All the time. A lot. We never thought we would see this day. Avery was never[…]

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Hard Labour Day

  This Labour Day weekend has been ripe with nothing but…hard labour – housework, grocery shopping, banking and more housework. I enjoy filing and making lists, sorting items into neat little baskets and arranging books by size. My kids’ closets contain labelled bins and clothes arranged by type and colour. Whenever I’m stressed, I open their closet doors and stare. The order of it all soothes me. That’s not normal is it? I guess they don’t tack “freak” to the end of neat for nothing. Being neat however, is not the same as being clean. Beyond the colour coded folders lay epic dust balls and sticky floors. Lately my attention to housekeeping basics has declined. The combination of a busy schedule, a potty training toddler and fatigue has taken its toll. It’s bad, but not this bad –> “Please Excuse the Mess” Yesterday as I vacuumed and dusted and sorted and mopped, I noticed my seven year old following behind me. “Are we having a party tonight?” He asked. “No” I replied. He thought for a minute and said, “I just wondered because this (cleaning) isn’t something you usually do.” Busted. This fall, I vow to have the cleanest house[…]

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