Puttering through life

I often think I want to live in a hip urban neighbourhood. It would be great to walk out your front door and mosey on down to the local bakery, farmer’s market, coffee shop and quaint stores. Perhaps we could live more environmentally such as both of us cycling to work, walking to nearby parks or simply just reducing the size of our footprint. However, an urban neighbourhood in Ottawa is out of our price range.

We live in a old suburb. Our house was built in 1966. It is in dire need of some updates. The street is busier than we would like but we remain within the green belt. We have a kick ass sized lot with old trees. There is a mix of ages and a small mix of ethnic groups in the neighbourhood. The neighbours are super nice, friendly, observant and protective. We can let the kids play in the front drive-way (under parental observation of course) and enjoy waving and talking with people, their dogs and kids. I guess it isn’t so bad.

Owning a sizeable lot in the burbs means we must partake in some significant yard maintenance. Our front lawn consists mostly of weeds. There is clover, dandelions, crab grass, plantain, mallow, chickweed, wild strawberries, etc. J thinks it can be kind-of pretty as there are purple, white and yellow flowers. I, on the other hand, am slightly embarrassed by the composition of our lawn. Thankfully our surrounding neighbours seem to sport the same type of lawn. So I’ve come to embrace the nature of our lawn.

I am a vigilante when it comes to mowing the lawn. I LOVE a freshly mown lawn. It causes anxiety and frustration to see the lawn to grow for more than 7-10 days. I especially love hauling the gas powered lawn mower from our rotting shed (even with the knowledge that I will be polluting the environment). I delight in quickly starting the mower and hearing the engine roar into life. I revel in the idea of making a pattern in the front lawn. I tend to alternate between mowing the lawn vertically, horizontally and diagonally. This pattern change is a technique I learned from my dad.

My dad is a zealous lawn guru. He would not put up with the number of weeds I have. I’m sure he would be sporting his lawn weeder daily and would not hesitate to use chemical means to eliminate them. Nor would he baulk at the idea of re-sodding the lawn or at least adding topsoil and fresh grass seed to the lawn (a project that I am too lazy and cheap to undertake). I did learn from him to take great pleasure in mowing the lawn. I remember standing back with him and just enjoying the view of the lines cutting through the lawn. To this day, I admire my handiwork at mastering nature. The accomplishment and satisfaction of mowing a lawn pulses through me and I can’t help but feel a smile spread across my face and a desire to jump for joy.

My desire for a mown lawn must irk the neighbours. After I am done, the sense of obligation to keep up infuses the neigbourhood. It always makes me secretly giggle to see neighbours hauling out their mowers within a few hours or a day after I tackle my yard. It is funny to think that I am promoting a suburban ideal and forcing others to conform. Too bad they don’t seem to revel in the chore.

I swear that my 2 1/2 year old daughter is possessed at times. Generally, my lil bug is athletic, bright, funny and well-spoken though shy around adults. She has almost mastered using the toilet on her own. She loves horses and Thomas the train. She is a charming "big" girl who likes to give hugs and sweet kisses.
Unfortunately, the charm can be fleeting. She is a raving lunatic when she is tired, hungry or not getting her way. We try to insure the kid is well fed and rested. We even try to be one step ahead of her and offer her food, quiet times or distractions prior to the typical melt-down times. Yet what can you do when your stubborn, independent child REFUSES to sleep or eat or listen? What do you do when all rationale flies out the window and you are presented with a raging, indecisive, MAD child? Practical solutions, at best, are only temporarily accepted before being rejected with fierce unrelenting anger.

The best tantrums of late happen to arrive at the very start of a day. It is 6:30am or if we are lucky maybe the clock reads 6:50am. We are stirred awake by a wee voice calling out "I need momma". We both know that it is I who has to go into the room. If J even tries, our quiet home will be filled with piercing screams and cries intermingled with phrases that demand he goes away and that she needs momma. So I enter lil bug's room and am greeted with a request, I comply with a voice hushed and groggy with sleep. As I either gather up the desired blanket or move something else, anger enters her body. She no longer wants me to get her the blanket. She wants me to snuggle. No she doesn't want me to snuggle. I need to go away. No don't leave. Now I'm suppose to take all her blankets off the bed. But she is cold, put the blankets back on. She's hungry. She doesn't want to eat...and on it goes for at least 20-30 minutes. Needless to say I'm exhausted and my day has literally just begun.

I try to keep a lid on my temper. It is hard sometimes when a raving lunatic won't leave you alone or let you help her. There are times I wish I could take back the things I have said or quell the anger that shoots through my very being. I wish there was a sure fire way to work through her moments. I love the kid. I'm trying to raise her to be happy, conscientious of others, and capable of working through her frustration but some days I can't wait for my responsibility to end. I absolutely look forward to hearing her heavy snores echoing in the hallway outside her room. I dread our teenage years. I hope we survive.

The plane ride to Ottawa was great. The ride to the airport was tough. My lil bug cried, yelled and was hysterical for over 40 minutes. She demanded that we turn around NOW. She did not want to go to the airport. She wanted to stay with grammy. My mom finally managed to have her fall asleep in her arms while she paced outside the airport terminal in the arrivals drop off zone. I bet alot of people were hoping that the screaming child was not going to be on their flight. Well, no need to worry. She had a nap and life was rosy again. She finally picked up on monkey boy's excitement and loved the plane ride. The excitement even caused the two munchkins to stay awake the whole time (arriving at midnight or 10pm their time). Yet, they were perfect! They were ideal travellers! I'm not just tooting my own horn as I received multiple compliments from passengers and staff.

We arrived to a house in a state of disarray though relatively clean. J had slaved over the house, wiping down walls and counters, cleaning bathrooms, setting up bedrooms, etc. We had our floors refinished before the kids and I returned. It looks great though it created quite a dusty mess. The floors look so much better that we have voted not to return our hand-me down futons (which are now close to 20 years old) and IKEA chairs to the living room. They shall remain downstairs, amongst the boxes, piles of stuff and kid's toys. Now the task is to find replacement furniture. Our friends are placing bets on us. They think we will not have real furniture for 6 months. They recognize how slow we (i.e. J) can be in purchasing large ticket items. I desperately hope we can prove them wrong.

On top of the disarray caused by refinishing floors, we have also had to deal with a carpenter ant infestation and now mice. Frack! I hate pests!

BTW I've discovered that packing is fun compared to unpacking. I absolutely hate unpacking. What a huge annoying chore. An almost impossible chore to complete if you have two kids hanging around and demanding attention. Geez, can't they feed themselves :)

On a happy note, we've already reconnected with a couple of great friends. First, we were invited to monkey boy's gal pal's birthday party at a local hobby farm. It was a hoot. Monkey boy held hands and played with his friend the whole time. It was like they hadn't been apart for 9 months. Secondly, we had a picnic supper at our friend's house, Karen and John. The supper was great even though we had to transfer ourselves from a park to their house due to rain. Again monkey boy reconnected with his bud, E. They got along famously and the two little sister's enjoyed each other and tagged along after the older ones. It was such a pleasure for us to be in the company of friend's.

I will miss our families in Alberta, immensely. However it is nice to be home...even if there is more chaos than sanity.

Westjet cancelled my flight this morning. I'm now stuck riding on a crowded airplane, leaving Calgary at 6pm arriving 11:48pm in Ottawa with two already overtired kids. What joy! What luck! I guess the stress of spending yesterday packing, finishing off some photo albums for the parents, sending letters and pictures to family and shipping 3 more boxes to Ottawa was misguided. At least I'm all set to go so today is a "free" day.

I think the zoo is calling our names...that should kill at least 3 hours of what is going to be a VERY long day.

The countdown to our return to Ottawa is in full swing.  We celebrated monkey boy's 5th birthday, my dad's 65th birthday, and J's 39th birthday during the first half of this month.  Yup, there are way too many Taurus males in my life.  

We've moved. We enjoyed our time at our Ranchlands townhouse rental. It was sad to leave the house with the beautiful view and easy access to our favourite haunts. It was also sad to see how much stuff we had accumulated since moving to Calgary. We arrived with approximately 10 boxes and 4 suitcases of household items. We left with significantly more despite donating 2 large bags of clothing.

The move to my parent's house went fairly well. We managed to move everything in 3 loads (1 in the back of my parents Chevy truck and 2 in our RAV4). We spent an excessive amount of time cleaning but at the end of the day we left the place better than we received it. My folks were great by not only helping us move items but taking care of the kids for a night and half day.

Currently we reside in my parent's basement. A pretty sweet deal considering they just moved into a gorgeous brand new bungalow, they are not charging us rent or utilities, they provide child care, cook some of the meals and have cable (woohoo). Yes, Jim and I have to sleep in the common area but that is only because our two munchkins cannot sleep in the same room. Monkey boy is a light sleeper and lil bug snores and wakes frequently with crys and nightmares. I am sure we will have some "testy" days, as my mom would say, since my dad and I tend to butt heads and everyone is use to doing their own thing. However it is a nice way to end our sabbatical in Alberta. The kids love their grandparents and we will know that they have a special bond with them when we leave.

As the last days in Alberta tick away, I still hope to visit the Royal Tyrell museum in Drumheller, Head Smashed-In Buffalo Jump in Southern Alberta (about a 45 min drive from the in-laws in Claresholm) and see those Rocky Moutains up close one last time.

My husband is a wise shopper. He spends countless hours researching the details on big ticket purchases. We talked, test drove and agonized over a car for at least 5-7 months. It took well over a year for him to buy his latest camera. Yet when a sale sign is displayed in a store his meticulous shopping sense can go out the window. He has been very successful at times with his sale obsession. I will give him credit for those trendy $8 jeans he found. However some of his bulk sized purchases of food have been wasted on us.

Now if you keep in mind his weakness for sale items, it is no surprise that a contest may pique his interest. Last month, he responded to a U of C alumni contest and won tickets for a dance production at the University of Calgary theatre. On the surface it sounded like a great opportunity. Unfortunately, I, his grumpy wife who does not handle surprises well, was not so thrilled by the "win" as it meant going to the show that night. Well, J convinced me it was a good idea by rounding up my mom to babysit and bribing me with a promise of dessert.

We barely made it there in time but we managed to sneak in during a brief pause in the dance production. The avant garde multi-media performance featured a dancer, artwork, a clarinetist and film-making. Icarus Fried was ... bizaare. We sat through the whole production. We sort-of liked aspects of it. We admired the talent of the performers. Yet we left shaking our heads, saying "what the hell?" and feeling that sometimes avant garde goes too far. We agreed that the performance would have made more sense "if only we had smoked some dope."

In the future, I am sure J will be a little more selective when entering contests. Yet we will always have this event to make us chuckle. We had a nice time together even if I never received my promised dessert.