Thank You, Herbie Bug

April 27, 2007 | Category: Not The Nightly News

HerbieBug nominated this blog for....

Aw. Thanks.

I've been on the jury of some web awards the past few years, but lost all track of them since.

When I saw that HerbieBug had done this, I was flattered as all hell. Did my little Snoopy dance, I admit it.

But. The thing is... I feel like I've a really bad blogging year. Few posts worthy of notice. Cetrainly few of the 'speaking French at the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru' or 'On a Bus' kind.

Maybe it's the rain, but I just don't feel like I deserve recognition these days.

Damn, that sounds ungrateful. Sorry.

On the other hand, Busy Mom and the amazing Beth have been rightfully nominated too. And they? Rock!

PLEASE let me know if you've been nominated or want to cheer for someone who has - I'm mucking about with the layout again (time for a summery look) and will be happy to put links in the sidebar and vote myself.

Enough, Already

| Category: In My Life

I need a new t-shirt. One that says "I'm Sorry".

Because I am.

My husband, my friends, my house, my son, my family, my blog have all put up with being neglected for almost 6 months, now.

Well, "put up with it" is probably stretching things.

"Endured" is a better word.

I read on a board today ... "It helps to have low expectations" and almost snorted my coffee out my nose.

It's just so true about my days right now.

I look at pictures even from as recently as last summer and realize how barely I am keeping my head above water.

My doctor acked if there was any way to lower the stress level, and we didn;t come up with anything.

Mostly, though? We need to sell this house.

I wish my husband was the kind of guy who could take the lead with that. Or even, you know, help.

He hasn't done anything, though.

CD says he wants to move, but is completely and utterly paralyzed about doing anything about it. He can do chores, take our son to T-Ball games and Karate, even balance the bills.

But when it comes to the stuff that needs to happen for the house to go on the market - the roof, bathroom, and kitchen - he can't so much as arrange for someone to give us a quote.

When we got back from our Canadian trip, I just sort of collapsed again. Overwhelmed by what needs to be done and how alone it feels to be facing it without him.

I think if a truck rolled up tomorrow, he would go sit in the car and pretend it wasn't happening.

A 100-year old house with plaster and lathe walls that constantly shed a fine dust that makes out son sick is obviously something that needs to be addressed.

A 100-year old house that we can not afford because of our reduced income? Ditto.

A 100-year old house across the street from a pedophile and in a poor school district? Yeah, you've caught the trend.

The point is that we need to move. Canada, Iceland, Maine, Timbuktu. Don't matter where, so much as SOON.

We agreed this last Thanksgiving, and put together a plan. One that needs two people to execute, but only me is doing. And as I battle my illness, I have become so afraid that a disaster is looming.

And I don't know what to do.

I don't want to be Chicken Little in my home anymore. Flapping my arms up and down and trying to get CD motivated to DO something for the house.

Enough already.

Enough, dammit.

Enough.

Homeward Bound

April 19, 2007 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Tomorrow morning, we aim the car westward and home again.

This trip weighed much harder on Bear and I than any we have taken before.

Maybe because each town was not so much a discovery as a possible new home. Entered with the thought "Could we live here? Is this the place?"

Maybe because I have now been sick for 4 months, and added to Bear's allergies we have had short fuses and this tender, lingering tiredness.

Maybe because the weather has been stormy and gusty and it has been hard to feel warm.

Maybe because it is hard, sometimes, to face the relationships we really have with our families. With who they are outside the holidays, on average Mondays with errands and stubbed toes and demons of their own.

Is this really how it is?

I don't know.

Snippets of songs gather together. Home, and long roads. Wandering, and finding. Daydreams, and rag dolls and the toys that come with fast food meals. Old photographs hung on the walls, and the stories behind them. And the squish of the puddles, again and again.

I want to be homeward bound.

Into a Nor'Easter

April 18, 2007 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

The first place we stopped in New Brunswick was Grand Falls, where it was still, decidedly, winter.

Also? Francophone. Oh, the lovely time I've had trying to apply my France-type French with a thick American accent to communicating in Quebec. Just the word "oui" - so simple, yes? - caused a hiccup.

But pretty pretty country.

Dear Florenceville,

Your highway sign boasts that your town is the "French Fry Capital of the World".
And yet? Not ONE French Fry to be purchased in the ten blocks of town. Sears catalog store? Yep. Quaint (and a little scary) bridge over the gorge? Yep. Gas station with barbeque chips? Yep.

But NOT.ONE.HOT.FRENCH.FRY to be found.

You might want to look into this.

"French Fry Capital of the WORLD"...not "New Brunswick" or "Canada" or even "the North Atlantic". The whole thing sets up certain expectations.

Just saying.

Our favorite town in New Brunswick had to be St. John. Some might argue that so close to the US border that it is not a true Canadian town. I wasn't there long enough to be informed on the subject.

All I know is that it is gorgeous. Not just in the cute-tourist way, either. It is a real working town in the midst of so much natural beauty. Ah, the coastline, the houses, the people. We lingered for as long as we could, just soaking up this place. It reminded us of long-ago homes.

The view from the bridge as we waited to re-enter the US. Overcast? Yes. But pleasant and green with leftover piles of snow tucked away.

Nothing ominous here...

...Until we were firmly back in the States.

By the time I dropped off CD at the Portland, Maine airport, the storm was kicking up in gusts and wet. He didn't want to go, and I hated to see him leave.

The first mile in 1600 that I drove was with wipers squeaking and knuckles white on the wheel. It was supposed to take 90 minutes to get to my father's house.

It took twice that.

The Nor'Easter came in with high winds, snow, and icy rain. The van skittered like a bug.

We arrived, finally.

I dragged in the suitcases and bags.

Stripped Bear down and put him in dry clothes.

And then we curled up together. And collapsed.

On The Road

April 13, 2007 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Armed with camera, stack of pillows, and a cooler full of Oberweis milk (don't ask)... we were off.

Crossed over at Detroit and headed for London, Ontario.

You know you're in Canada when...

Stopped for lunch along Lake Erie...

The water on this side of the lake is so beautiful...

Out of Ontario and into Quebec province... c'est ca?

Welcome to Montreal...

Street seller.

Goodnight and on to New Brunswick...

You Say Hello...

April 09, 2007 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Tonight we're crossing the border into Canada for a visit. It's Bear's first trip offically out of the U.S. but his passport isn't ready - so we've got about 50 pieces of ID for him (including some report cards and a really cute baby picture plus copies of his Passport photos).

The lady who answered the US helpline told me not to worry - that I wouldn't need his passport since we were traveling by car and I could just bring his driver's license and Birth Certificate.

"Um, he's 6," I said.

"Right," she answered.

Long pause as I realized, with growing horror, that she actually wasn't going to figure out that 6 year olds? Don't drive. Well, not legally.

When I called Canada, the man there cheerfully told me that the Birth Certificate and Baptism Certificate would be fine.

*big sigh of relief*

CD flies back next Sunday night so he can be at work on Monday morning. He'll fly to Boston the following weekend and drive us home.

We're crossing in Detroit. Then we're traveling to Ottawa, Toronto, Quebec City, Fredericton, NB and finally stopping in for a few days in Moncton, NB. Coming home via the US; Portland, Providence, Boston, Buffalo, and then gunning it the last 500 miles home to Chicago (our usual method).

If you live along the way, consider me waving enthusiastically in your direction.

I'll post from the road.

I Got It

April 06, 2007 | Category: Mother to the First Power

Bear started T-Ball this week.

They did a mock game, with Bear at shortstop.

Batter up, hit a line drive.

Bear dove down on the dirt and triumphantly grabbed the ball. Then turned his attention to finding a runner.

Looked left.

No runners.

Looked right.

No runners.

Looked straight ahead.

Coach gestured wildly for him to throw it home.

Shook her off.

Dodged his teammates, who were trying to steal the ball from him.

Spied a target.

Ran full steam.

We screamed 'no!' from the sidelines....

Too late.

Bear tagged out the third baseman with a full frontal tackle.

Caticide

April 05, 2007 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Last Thanksgiving, we lost our old cat Zazoo.

He left behind Maggie, who I've had for about 20 years. Who has never lived without another pet friend to keep her company. Who has been lonely.

The last five months have been hell.

Each night (because cats? are nocturnal) she screams. And screams. All these years and I never knew that a cat could be that LOUD.

And then, if one of us comes out to see what's wrong, she literally will just look at us and say *meow* - like 'oh, did you want to stay up and play with me?'

Taking her to bed with us only causes her to use our sleeping bodies as toys to be batted.

We've tried everything.

We're exhausted.

The only thing that helps is to give her a dose of itty-bitty kitty antidepressants before bedtime. Which are expensive, people.

Next Monday, we are leaving for 2 weeks up in Canada (driving from Toronto to New Brunswick, down to visit my family in Massachusetts, and then back).

And when we get back? We're getting a P-U-P-P-Y. Bear has wanted one forever, his doctor has greenlighted it, Canada says 'sure', ... so there is no stopping us.

Now, Maggie may not be happy to discover that the new ball of fluff coming to keep her company is of the canine variety. But she'll get over it.

Oh, yeah. If she knows what's good for her? She'll get over it FAST.

And let us get a good night's sleep.

I'm Fine, How Are You?

April 02, 2007 | Category: In My Life

I woke up this morning with a to-do list as long as my arm. A headache. And a bad attitude.

Moving to Canada? Is killing me with details. And this could go on for as long as two years.

Trying to climb on top of it all, I let Bear watch some Power Rangers while I made calls and answered emails, and it was the wrong wrong wrong damn thing to do. Television during the day is like pouring some kind of anti-happy poison down his throat. Fine when he's sick but otherwise? A recipe for an U-G-L-Y mood.

Sure enough, Bear got snottier and snottier over about 90 minutes. At one point, screaming at me to bring him popcorn and refusing to do chores or come study when I turned it off. We ended up arguing and as I type this, he is in a serious time-out.

It's 2:30PM and I want to go to bed and pull the covers over my head.

So, while we wait for the dear child I love to return to me and the Advil to kick in... here are some pictures.

1. This was "Corporate Mommy's" inbox just a couple of hours ago. I love checking it. The joy of these emails - even when I am so so so very behind in responding - keeps me going sometimes:

2. This is the picture I had in my mind when I told CD yesterday at Lowe's that yes, thank you, we should wait to put in our annuals. It has snowed every April I can remember...

3. This is Bear after Saturday morning's Easter Egg hunt. That boy LOVES him some Easter Egg hunting!

4. I was looking through some pictures as I compiled a batch for this year's family calendar, and I came across this one from Paris. It made my heart flip-flop. After a quarter of my life, he still makes my heart flip-flop. I practically fall to my knees in gratitude on a daily basis that we survived those last few years of his recovery.