I can't help, falling in love with you....

I'm baaaack! I've been MIA for a while. All writers hit blocks in the road along the way and I guess this was my time. I've moved the block out of the way and I think I'm good to go. So strap yourself in and hang on...here we go....

About three months ago on Easter Sunday, Little Darling Number One and Darlingette stopped by with a gift basket for us. There were Easter eggs, some cookies for the boys and two gifts wrapped in tissue paper nestled in the basket. I zoned in on the chocolate immediately but Darlingette interrupted my rapture and told us to open the wrapped gifts. I gave Steve the one meant for him, and I sat with mine in my lap ready to open them at the same time. I carefully peeled back one corner of the paper and saw the word...Grandma. Grandma???? Grandma...oops the kids had gotten confused and given me a gift meant for my mom. Wait...Grandma?????? Could it be??? The rest is a blur. I remember leaping to my feet and hugging people...crying, babbling....I don't really remember what I said but whatever the words were they couldn't possibly have matched the joy in my heart. I was going to be a grandmother!

Fast forward....Darlingette had asked me if I'd like to go with her to her midwife appointment so I could hear the baby's heartbeat. Well she didn't have to ask me twice! Yesterday's date has been circled on the calendar with hearts and stars adorning it for the past several weeks. We arrived at the midwife's office and Darlingette told me she would go in and get all the preliminary stuff out of the way and then they would come out and get me when it was time to listen to the heartbeat. I waited...and waited...and waited. I paced and read the diplomas on the wall several hundred times (to reassure myself that these people were in fact qualified to take care of MY daughter-in-law and our precious baby) and waited some more. It seemed like an eternity and finally the midwife came out and told me to come in. I sat on a chair and waited some more while she got her little apparatus out and placed it on Darlingette. We heard a bunch of noises, clicks and then.....there it was...my grandbaby's heartbeat!!! Oh what a sound..it was musical, rhythmic......brilliant (yes heartbeats can be brilliant). Now, I've loved this baby from the minute we were told he/she was coming but in that moment I fell IN love with him/her. You know the love you feel for your kids...like you would lay down your life for them, give them the world in a neat little package..that love? Well there it was again. I don't have to tell you grandmothers reading this what it feels like. You know. It's an overwhelming, heartwarming, all encompassing, wonderful love. You are all members of an exclusive club...the Grandmother Club..and now I've got a membership card. I still have a few more months to wait until I receive the gold card. The card that makes it official. But for now I get to think about, daydream and plan for all the wonderful times I have waiting for me when Deebee (a name I came up with..a combination of his parent's initials) is born. I can't wait to watch my son, my firstborn...hold his child in his arms for the first time. I can't wait to see my husband step into the role of Grandad and teach this baby the things my grandfather taught us. I can't wait to hold the first member of the next generation of our family and tell him/her all about the adventures that await. There are so many exciting and wonderful memories to be made. But for now we wait...and wait some more. I am counting down the months, weeks, days, hours, minutes.... until that day (or night) in December when the baby finally arrives. It can't come fast enough for me but I know Deebee has important things to do between now and then. Until then...I'll continue to dream, plan...and shop!

My Husband the Drama Queen

Why is it when men get sick they say they’re "really" sick? Really as opposed to fake? Are they implying that when women get sick we’re not "really" sick?  For the past few days I have been living with a sick man. When the cold first landed in my husband’s body it was just a sniffle. I heard him sniff a few times and he said he thought he was coming down with a "doozy of a cold." By the next day, it had settled in and taken up residence in his chest. I had come down with it also. Hubby took to his bed.  While he lounged in bed, I cared for the dogs, chopped and stacked a cord of firewood, did the laundry and cooked and cleaned. OK maybe I didn’t do the firewood part because our fireplace is electric but you get the picture.  He asked me if we had a bell. A bell?  "What for," I asked. "To ring so you can hear me when I need something…I can’t yell down to you with this sore throat," he rasped.  Oh dear Lord! I thought of asking if I should go out and buy a bedpan but decided against that, he might have taken me up on my suggestion.  By the third day, he dragged his body down the stairs and decided to lie on the couch, "to keep me company"….what?? Why did I need company? Oh wait…he meant so I could SEE proof that he was in fact hacking and coughing (and let’s not forget moaning…..oh the moaning!).  And why pray tell me do men insist on showing us the Kleenex when they blow their noses???? Do they really think we WANT to see it?  Today is the fourth day of this cold. I think he’s getting sick of being sick. He’s starting to walk around the house…correction…drag himself around the house.  He is presently propped up in a chair with the remote in one hand and the phone in the other. I think he’s got the paramedics on speed dial just in case he relapses….

Oh me? Thanks for asking. I’ve got pneumonia…not really... but figured I’d try this drama queen thing so I could see what he gets out of it.

Enjoy your weekend Folks. Make it count…we only get one crack at this particular one ;)

Please hang up and try your call again...

Do you hear voices? I do...at least I did this morning. I was sitting here drinking my morning coffee...trying to wake up after being kept awake half the night by a sick husband and suddenly I heard a woman's voice. I strained my ears to try and figure out where the voice was coming from...was it a neighbour outside? No, it was coming from inside the house. Did I leave the TV on upstairs? Who was this woman and why was she in my house talking at 6:35 a.m.? I was about to haul my butt off my comfy chair and investigate when Remy came bounding down the stairs......"call again...." the voice was louder. As Remy bolted past me I realized he had something in his mouth. "The number you have dialed...."..it was at that moment I realized the woman's voice was coming from Remington's mouth. "Remy...drop it...Remy give it to Mom...REMY." "Please hang up and try your call again...." Yes, yes I know, lady...I'm trying to hang up the phone but first I have to wrestle it from my dog who has just realized he is now holding the prize of the day in his mouth! At that moment Rufus decided to join the party...thank goodness! I can always count on Rufus to help me. "Rufus...he's got the phone...get him,".....that was all he needed to hear. Off he went in hot pursuit his brother the thief. Remy ran around the kitchen, into the living room and up the stairs with Rufus hot on his tail. I heard them running around upstairs and then stepped to the side as they thundered down the stairs. As Remy leaped off the fourth from the bottom step he stumbled slightly which gave Rufus the upper paw he needed. He tackled Remy and pulled him to the floor giving me the opportunity to pry open out little thief's mouth and retrieve the phone. I checked the phone and saw that Remy had mouth dialed a 919 number, which is a North Carolina exchange. I'm not sure who he knows there...but whomever it is, if you're reading this....Remy is grounded..no more phone for him.

He's Baaaaack!

You know the feeling. You’re fast asleep and suddenly a loud noise breaks the silence of the room and you bolt upright in bed. Well this morning at precisely 4:37 the loud noise emanated from Remington.  There I was sound asleep, deeply engrossed in a lovely dream. Donny Osmond and I were running on a beach. We stopped under a huge palm tree and Donny was just about to kiss me when a dog came out of nowhere and started barking at us…”GRRRRRRR WOOF WOOF” What? Wait a minute…a dog? I wasn’t dreaming anymore…that bark was familiar. Remington! I sat up in bed and peered around the dark room. There he stood at the bottom of the bed, staring across the room, barking his newly found big boy bark. It had returned…the dreaded mirror dog!  Remy has been after that dog ever since we brought him home.  Every so often we hear barking coming from our room. When we go upstairs we inevitably find him sitting on our bed, barking and growling at the mirror dog. Usually I laugh at him, throw a sheet over the mirror and the mirror dog disappears, along with the barking. Well this morning, after glancing at the clock and realizing it was just 4:37 I was not in a laughing mood. I shushed Remy and rolled over…he kept barking. I got up and threw the spare sheet I keep on hand for just this reason, over the mirror. He stopped. Whew! I climbed back into bed, moved Rufus so I could pull a small corner of the blankets out from under him and settled down to go back to sleep. “Grrrr….GRRRR…WOOF”…what the heck was he barking at now? I rolled over and looked at the bottom of the bed. There was Remy, lying flattened out on the bed....so flat in fact that he was almost two dimensional. He had slithered to the edge and his head was hanging down…..what on earth was he doing? I sat up and looked closer at the covered mirror. Apparently I hadn’t covered the whole thing…there was one tiny corner near the bottom that was exposed allowing the mirror dog to make his appearance yet again.  I got up, pulled the sheet down to cover the whole mirror and got back into bed. Within thirty seconds he was sound asleep, snoring..hogging my pillow.

Fly Little Birds, Fly

From the moment they are born, we are preparing our children to go out on their own. We teach them to stand on their own two feet as we hold their little chubby hands and guide them across the floor. We teach them they’ll get hurt if they stick knitting needles in electrical outlets (how many times did I say “NO” to Little Darling Number One when he did that?). We teach them how to get along in the world. We guide them, shape them, worry about them.  During the Terrible Twos we wish they’d just hurry up and grow up…during the Trying Teens we wonder if we will get out alive..but we do. We survive and so do they. I won’t say unscathed…but we do survive.  From the moment my sons were born, I was preparing them to go out into the world on their own.  Why is it then, that I forgot to prepare myself for the day that they would all be standing on their own feet…leaving the nest…out on their own? This weekend my buddy, our youngest…Little Darling Number Three is moving out and starting his life with a wonderful girl I think may be “the one”.  Two weeks ago Little Darling Number Two moved out to go back to school, yet again. He’s completed four years of university, two years training to be a Paramedic and now he’s studying computer something or other. He's on his way to something big.  Little Darling Number One moved out a few years ago and is now happily married and almost ready to start his own little family. On Monday, I will begin my life as an Empty Nester. I’ll have to learn to cook in smaller batches…we don’t need giant pans of lasagna or big pots of sweet and sour meatballs anymore. I’ll experience smaller grocery bills, smaller hydro bills, having hot water every time I step into the shower and a house that stays immaculate after I clean it, for the first time in 30 years. It all sounds wonderful and it’s something I’ve dreamed about for years…but I’m not ready for it. I want them to be home for a bit longer…I want the mess, the noise…I don’t like solitude. Everything in me is screaming…”Don’t go!!!”…but I know they have to. This is what I’ve been preparing them for…the rest of their lives await. Did I remember to teach them about cross walks? Did I forget to teach them anything important?  It’s too late now…they’re on their ways.  As each of them left, they took a little piece of my heart with them. I hope they know that whenever they need me, I'll be there for them, so will their dad. We'll be there, but somehow I think they're going to be just fine standing on their own two feet...after all, they've been being prepared for this from the moment they were born.


Boys as you make your ways out in the big world remember one thing….I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always…as long as I’m living my babies you’ll be! (Thank you Mr. Munsch).

The Boys vs The Snowpeople

A family of snowpeople has invaded our neighbourhood and the boys have taken it upon themselves to protect us all.

 This morning as we approached one of the houses in our neighbourhood, I felt Rufus' leash tighten slightly and then start to vibrate. I looked down at him and noticed he was standing on guard, looking up at the house and I heard a low rumble coming out of him. My gentle giant was growling a warning...but at whom?? It was then I noticed four snowpeople with bightly coloured scarves tied around their necks staring blankly back at us. The rumble started getting louder...Remy heard it and he jumped on top of Rufus who growled a loud warning at him..he meant business. Remy decided this was serious and he slid off Rufus and stood beside him, hackles up, staring at the snowpeople. Rufus started stamping his feet and barking at them...they didn't move. He lunged towards them almost dragging me off my feet..still the snowpeople stood their ground. Remy joined in with his higher pitched puppy bark....that didn't scare the brave snowpeople off either. Now I had both boys straining at the ends of their leashes, barking and growling and carrying on..it was all I could do to hang on. Suddenly my feet hit a patch of ice and down I went. I tried to hang on to their leashes but they got away from me and bolted towards the alien intruders. I was sure they were going to tackle the snow family and ruin the kids' work but they didn't..no, instead they simultaneously lifted their legs on the biggest of the snowpeople, melting him slightly and happily trotted back to me...mission accomplished. They showed them who's boss. So people of our town take note, you're safe from the threat of alien snowpeople...Rufus and Remy are on guard and they'll keep their bladders full :)

The Picky Pooper

My dog is a picky pooper. Rufus will not poop unless conditions are ideal. Now what constitutes ideal conditions is beyond me...I can't figure him out.  Take this morning for instance....we were walking along the road and he started that intense sniffing that signals, IT'S TIME! I stopped and waited. He sniffed...walked around...and sniffed some more. He started circling in ever decreasing circles...assumed the position...and then....started sniffing again. We walked a little further...he stopped again. This was it...he circled, sniffed, circled again. Suddenly he plunged deeper into the ditch in search of *the* perfect spot, dragging me behind him. He was a dog on a mission...intent on finding his special spot. I was a human with snow going into my boots. I tried to drag him out of the ditch and get him back on the road to make it easier to pick the poop....(because of course being a responsible dog owner, I do poop and scoop. Well I don't poop and scoop...my dogs poop, I scoop!) but he was having no part of that. He had finally found "it"...the spot. There he was perched on the other side of the deep ditch on top of a huge snowbank. He circled, circled again, humped over with a look of concentration on his face. Just then a bus full of elementary school kids went by with little laughing faces peering out at us through iced up windows. And poof..there went my dignity. Once he was finished it was my job to climb up onto the snowbank and retrieve the poop. I managed to get up there, but balancing while stooping and scooping was no small feat. I dug into my pocket and retrieved one of ever present vanilla scented poop bags, plunged my hand into it and bent to pick up the prize. This time I was lucky...my fingers stayed within the confines of the plastic bag..last time..oh never mind, that's another story.

No rhythm needed...you're kidding me

A month ago a friend of mine mentioned that Zumba classes were being offered in town and asked if I wanted to go with her. Game to try anything..once...I signed up before Christmas for the classes that were to start in the New Year. I've mentioned it to a few people over the past month and was told by everyone that the instructor's name is G.I. Jane...G.I. Jane? I had visions of a large military type woman barking orders at me while I struggled to complete just one push up. Uh oh..I talked myself out of the classes and was planning on bailing but my friend begged me to go with her. Yesterday was the big day and I was dreading it. I spent the day planning my escape..."My cell phone just rang...I have to go home, Remy ate the new kitten"..."My husband just called me and the house is on fire...gotta run....sorry I can't finish the class, G.I.". The dreaded hour arrived and my friend showed up at our door to pick me up..."Let's just get it over with," I thought...yup that's a great attitude!

We arrived at the Community Centre, took off our coats, put on our running shoes and entered a large room filled with giddy women. "I'm so glad we're back at this", one woman gushed to her friend as they walked past us. "Oh don't tell me we're the only newbies", I groaned. I scanned the room looking for our fearless leader...military girl G.I. Jane. I didn't see anyone wearing Fatigues..maybe she couldn't make it? Dare I hope? Then I heard a voice..."Welcome to the PARTYYYYY...let's goooooo" and into the middle of the group jumped a young woman wearing clothing that didn't even remotely resemble Fatigues. She started gyrating and moving around the room to the music....."Come on people..join in". Join in...join in what?? Wiggling and shaking my butt? I don't think so. I could break a hip.  "Who has been here before", our leader asked. Out of the 40 women in the room, 35 put up their hands. OK so there were five of us who had never done this before....good I wasn't alone. As Jane and the 35 experienced Zumbites shook what their Mama's gave them....we five newbies stood shivering in the cold room.  Picture deer caught in headlights. "Just feel the music..you don't need rhythm..just move", chirped one of the participants as she Zumba-ed past us.  We looked at each other, shrugged and stepped out onto the floor. Well without going into painful details, I'll tell you I lived through the night but I discovered something about myself in the process. I am not one of the Jackson Five's long lost relatives..I am not one of Gladys Knight's pips...ie I have no rhythm. While others moved sensuously through the steps, I lurched and stumbled around the room. When the group moved left, I moved right. When they swirled and twirled, the rubber on my shoe caught on the floor and I fell.  When Jane told me to "feel the music", I felt a cramp starting in my left calf.  I stuck with it though and made it to the end of the class. I was sweaty and hot but I finished it. I am proud of myself for not bailing. I'm hoping over the next 8 weeks that I can find my inner goddess and learn to move more sensuously. I'm not aiming for Beyonce or Shakira...I just don't want to be compared to the Fresh Prince's cousin Carlton!