As we were getting ready for bed last night, Rob remarked, “You know, I think you have a pretty wonderful husband.” And I agreed. And I should have been the one to say so in fact. So I will do it today.
All week Rob has been the rock in this lice business. He took over the laundry duty. He was there for both rounds of delousing shampoo. He nit-picked non-stop and with the patience of Job. In between he went to work, got our personal directive stuff written, took care of the car insurance issues for Jordan, and made time for us to have tea in the city before the lawyer’s appointment. He also generously went solo one evening so I could go to my writer’s group. He is more than wonderful. In my whole life I haven’t been able to lean on someone the way he lets me lean on him. It’s a sometimes frightening thing for someone like me who was so used to having to do everything for myself and not really having anyone I could count on in all manner of situations or crises.
Last year around this time, Rob was sitting up late into the night with me as I battled some pretty awful insomnia leading up to the first anniversary of Will’s death. We talked on the phone a bit but the bulk of our conversations were carried on IM. Hours at a time. He astounded me with his selfless concern for me and what I was feeling even when I knew that he was dealing with his own grief. He would send me funnies by email everyday to take me mind off things and make sure I smiled a bit in each 24-hr period. He is still the one who cares most if the corners of my mouth inch upward every day.
Although I am sure it seems as though I do nothing but talk about Rob, there are volumes more things that I kept to myself about him and our relationship. Things that are too TMI - even for me - and things that belong to us alone or memories that are just mine to have and hold. In the absence of these details, I hope I am still able to convey the depth of my love for him and the love that we share.
I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else or with anyone else other than here and with Rob. I can’t picture a future, near or far, without him in it. My favorite place to be is wherever he is and my chief project is our life together.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Nit Picking
As no critters were discovered during this morning’s hand delousing session, Miss Katy will be returning to school today with about four inches less of hair because I realized that we couldn’t avoid cutting some of it off. Her hairs is fine but think and curly. I felt terrible about that for some reason. But Katy is more than ready to be done with Rob and I hunched over her head picking through her hair practically strand by strand and dislodging nits with our fingernails because those little nit combs are useless on the fine hair that many children, ours included, have. The laundry is nearly caught up but we’ve decided that until Katy is louse and nit free, her bedding will have to be done daily.
We slept this morning. And then I slept in more because I awoke with a horrible headache behind my eyes. When I did get up my left eye was matted and a deep angry red color possibly as a result of my fingers being in Kate’s chemically treated hair so often over the last two days. I am very sensitive to that kind of thing. I have had to give up showering at the gym because the disinfectant they use on the showers sends me into days long hay fever attacks. I can’t even use the bottled spray to wipe down equipment as it is just a watered down version of the same disinfectant. Rob told me at breakfast - following a bug hunt and nit-picking session - that I slept horribly. Startling easily and talking a lot. I know I have been dreaming constantly the last week or so. Nightmares some but usually just those exhausting dreams about searching for someone or something and hiding and running from someone or something. Not totally unexpected with the second anniversary now less than a week away and with the added stress of the lice visitation and trying to sort papers for taxes (a world of confusion awaiting there) and shredding and storage - not to mention the whole gearing up for Texas thing. I am lucky to be sleeping at all. I will take crappy sleep or insomnia any day.
I told Rob that I am having a hard time find charitable feelings for his sister. You know, poor Widowed SIL - she has it so hard, so I guess I can let the little lice thing go. But he wondered why I was bothering to think about her at all. I should just be like him and forget about her. He’s right. If not for the lice, we’d have forgotten about her already. Lord knows that I don’t waste time or thought space on my own mired in inertia youngest sis. Some people like and need the kind of misery that goes along with victimhood - whatever its original source. I guess if that kind of thing didn’t have collateral damage it wouldn’t be so irritating. I just forgot the critical rule of being related to people like that - all visiting should be done on neutral territory and confined to the phone or Facebook as much as humanly possible.
So today is Jordan’s birthday. She wanted to meet us in the city at the Muttart to visit her mom’s memorial bench before supper out. But with lice and having a lawyer appointment in the afternoon to sign wills and directives and other cheery stuff and then needing to get back home in time to meet Katy’s school bus and the insurance adjustor who is coming to appraise the damage to the car that Jordan was driving in a fender bender last week - well - just another detail that we will have to manage and figure a way to work out. Things will fall into place. They always do.
We slept this morning. And then I slept in more because I awoke with a horrible headache behind my eyes. When I did get up my left eye was matted and a deep angry red color possibly as a result of my fingers being in Kate’s chemically treated hair so often over the last two days. I am very sensitive to that kind of thing. I have had to give up showering at the gym because the disinfectant they use on the showers sends me into days long hay fever attacks. I can’t even use the bottled spray to wipe down equipment as it is just a watered down version of the same disinfectant. Rob told me at breakfast - following a bug hunt and nit-picking session - that I slept horribly. Startling easily and talking a lot. I know I have been dreaming constantly the last week or so. Nightmares some but usually just those exhausting dreams about searching for someone or something and hiding and running from someone or something. Not totally unexpected with the second anniversary now less than a week away and with the added stress of the lice visitation and trying to sort papers for taxes (a world of confusion awaiting there) and shredding and storage - not to mention the whole gearing up for Texas thing. I am lucky to be sleeping at all. I will take crappy sleep or insomnia any day.
I told Rob that I am having a hard time find charitable feelings for his sister. You know, poor Widowed SIL - she has it so hard, so I guess I can let the little lice thing go. But he wondered why I was bothering to think about her at all. I should just be like him and forget about her. He’s right. If not for the lice, we’d have forgotten about her already. Lord knows that I don’t waste time or thought space on my own mired in inertia youngest sis. Some people like and need the kind of misery that goes along with victimhood - whatever its original source. I guess if that kind of thing didn’t have collateral damage it wouldn’t be so irritating. I just forgot the critical rule of being related to people like that - all visiting should be done on neutral territory and confined to the phone or Facebook as much as humanly possible.
So today is Jordan’s birthday. She wanted to meet us in the city at the Muttart to visit her mom’s memorial bench before supper out. But with lice and having a lawyer appointment in the afternoon to sign wills and directives and other cheery stuff and then needing to get back home in time to meet Katy’s school bus and the insurance adjustor who is coming to appraise the damage to the car that Jordan was driving in a fender bender last week - well - just another detail that we will have to manage and figure a way to work out. Things will fall into place. They always do.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Strathcona Writing Group
After a long day in the lice trenches, my darling husband insisted that I still head to Sherwood Park for my writing group meeting at the library. It turned out to be a welcome end to the day.
The Strathcona group is different from the Fort group. The Fort meetings are more structured. There is a presentation often times and someone leading the meeting. I took my turn last week and talked about publishing options and blogging. Strathcona has more writers who seem to be actively working on novels and we spend more time listening to each other’s work. They also self-publish with an anthology and organize writing workshops that are held at the library. I like both groups. I like the people and I take something from each experience.
Last evening I am afraid I monopolized a bit because I have been very busy writing since Christmas: poetry for an on-line magazine that was seeking submissions, another short story for my sci-fi story series, two pieces for a flash fiction contest, the start of my haiku’s for another e-zine and then finally a short based on a story Rob told me about Shelley. The group really likes my sci-fi series and I admit I am proud of it myself. Rob and Jordan have been reading pieces as I finish too. I think Jordan likes them a little more than Rob but it is the kind of subject matter that she finds more appealing than he does.
One of the comments I get from the Strathcona group often is that I have a strong voice as a writer and it lets me get away with breaking the sacred writing rules of fiction. Most notably the “show don’t tell” rule. Much as I love the compliment, it makes me wonder about this “voice”. Who I sound like that is so different from me and where does it come from? Being able to write is a gift, I know, but I still wonder about it.
In addition to my readings, Nathan read a poem that he’d written inspired by a Canadian Armed Forces recruiting commercial. Nathan is an interesting young man. He might be Farron’s age. He lives at home with his parents and his mother also attends are writing group. He has a limp which I am not sure if it is related to his short stature or not. He appears to be a little person but again it’s just an observation and not based on anything he has said. He’s very smart with a wicked sense of humor that I think Jordan might appreciate, but I am not in the match making business where my step-daughters are concerned. I think they are perfectly capable of meeting young men on their own. Match-making is a dangerous pastime anyway. After Nathan, Rebecca read her latest revision from a fantasy novel she is working on based on World of Warcraft characters she has created. I believe she is on her second revision. She is a very visual writing. She creates elaborate settings and is quite well versed in mythology. I love listening to her read. She has a Dutch - maybe - accent that really lends to the writing she is doing. Finally Heinz read a couple of his poems. He is an older German man who always seems to have very sad love poems to read. Makes me wonder what his story might be.
The first part of group was catching up and the last part of group was devoted to up-comings. There are workshops starting next month again and running into April. There are several that appeal to me but Rob doesn’t have the timeline for Texas yet and I don’t know when he will start traveling for work, so I am not committing to any but the first workshop on plot right now.
When I got home, I found two very tired lice warriors. One at the computer in the kitchen and the other barely awake upstairs after a trying bath and nit-picking sessions. Which reminds me that I have laundry still and hair to check. So far Rob and I are clean. Fingers crossed that we stay that way.
The Strathcona group is different from the Fort group. The Fort meetings are more structured. There is a presentation often times and someone leading the meeting. I took my turn last week and talked about publishing options and blogging. Strathcona has more writers who seem to be actively working on novels and we spend more time listening to each other’s work. They also self-publish with an anthology and organize writing workshops that are held at the library. I like both groups. I like the people and I take something from each experience.
Last evening I am afraid I monopolized a bit because I have been very busy writing since Christmas: poetry for an on-line magazine that was seeking submissions, another short story for my sci-fi story series, two pieces for a flash fiction contest, the start of my haiku’s for another e-zine and then finally a short based on a story Rob told me about Shelley. The group really likes my sci-fi series and I admit I am proud of it myself. Rob and Jordan have been reading pieces as I finish too. I think Jordan likes them a little more than Rob but it is the kind of subject matter that she finds more appealing than he does.
One of the comments I get from the Strathcona group often is that I have a strong voice as a writer and it lets me get away with breaking the sacred writing rules of fiction. Most notably the “show don’t tell” rule. Much as I love the compliment, it makes me wonder about this “voice”. Who I sound like that is so different from me and where does it come from? Being able to write is a gift, I know, but I still wonder about it.
In addition to my readings, Nathan read a poem that he’d written inspired by a Canadian Armed Forces recruiting commercial. Nathan is an interesting young man. He might be Farron’s age. He lives at home with his parents and his mother also attends are writing group. He has a limp which I am not sure if it is related to his short stature or not. He appears to be a little person but again it’s just an observation and not based on anything he has said. He’s very smart with a wicked sense of humor that I think Jordan might appreciate, but I am not in the match making business where my step-daughters are concerned. I think they are perfectly capable of meeting young men on their own. Match-making is a dangerous pastime anyway. After Nathan, Rebecca read her latest revision from a fantasy novel she is working on based on World of Warcraft characters she has created. I believe she is on her second revision. She is a very visual writing. She creates elaborate settings and is quite well versed in mythology. I love listening to her read. She has a Dutch - maybe - accent that really lends to the writing she is doing. Finally Heinz read a couple of his poems. He is an older German man who always seems to have very sad love poems to read. Makes me wonder what his story might be.
The first part of group was catching up and the last part of group was devoted to up-comings. There are workshops starting next month again and running into April. There are several that appeal to me but Rob doesn’t have the timeline for Texas yet and I don’t know when he will start traveling for work, so I am not committing to any but the first workshop on plot right now.
When I got home, I found two very tired lice warriors. One at the computer in the kitchen and the other barely awake upstairs after a trying bath and nit-picking sessions. Which reminds me that I have laundry still and hair to check. So far Rob and I are clean. Fingers crossed that we stay that way.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Lice
Well, my sis-in-law’s visit has turned out to the be gift that keeps on giving. Katy has lice. The irony abounds really because back in Des Moines Katy had a classmate who had lice, continually it seemed, for two years and despite her long curly hair, she never did get it. The reason for that of course is that lice isn’t that easy to catch. According to the health unit nurse I spoke with this morning (and my best friend in Iowa who is a nurse as well) it really takes head to head contact such as sharing pillows, bedding and hats. So, even though it is remotely possible that Katy could have picked up the offending insects at school or child-minding at the fitness center, the most likely suspect is Rob’s niece who slept up in Katy’s room on the trundle bed. Katy loves the trundle and played on it, building tents and such for days after. Also, it given the time span needed from contact to infestation (7 to 10 days), Rob’s niece fits the profile (the girl had her hands in her hair constantly -raking and rubbing). When Rob saw the title for today’s blog he said, “So you are just going to blame my niece for this then?” “Yep,” I replied. He just shook his head and laughed, “I hope my sister never finds and reads your blog. She’ll never speak to me again.” Ah, if it were only that easy to rid one’s life of drama-makers.
So, in addition to the hair-treating - mine too probably because I have long hair and Katy is in close contact with me - there are beds to be stripped and washed........again. Clothes to be washed. Stuffed things and dress-up clothes to be bagged. The cat, according to my best friend, should be dipped in a flea bath. (And the cat is becoming a saga onto herself anyway at this point. One more straw and Rob is going to reassemble his old shot-gun.) Rob volunteered to work from home today to help out. The last lice scare, which was the first time Katy’s daycare sent home a note, I stripped and quarantined stuffies while Will walked in circles - something he was wont to do because of the dementia - oblivious, unable to even give moral support. I commented yesterday on Alicia’s blog piece about how hard it is to be a single parent. I made the observation that even having a second adult around didn’t change things in some respects. But I didn’t mean with the heavy lifting, like today. Rob will help with the cleaning and head dousing. For me the emotional aspects of parenting have always been and continue to be the toughest thing. I just find it draining to be on call to another human being from infinity to beyond. Katy is very demanding and has been since moment one. She doesn’t make the demands on Rob or anyone else really that she does of mean in terms of needing my attention and needing me near. And I am a person who needs down time and to retreat into myself in order to maintain equilibrium. Perhaps because double parenting is so new to me I went into it with expectations that were too high. I really thought I would be magically altered and that the things about Katy - her clingyness and incessant questioning and her difficulty entertaining herself - wouldn’t bother me as much anymore or that Rob’s presence would abate this somewhat.
Rob and I talked about this last night. I told him that I just don’t find joy and fulfillment in the kinds of things that most mothers seem to. Sitting for 45 minutes in that nasty waiting room at her ballet school for instance is beyond boring, but their our moms their happily nattering away like it was an outing for them. Last spring we were visiting my folks and tagged along to a t-ball game of my 6 year old nephew, I was so bored. The coaches do their best to move those games along but it is still painfully slow. My sister though had a grand time with the other parents. Clearly this is social for her. Just thinking about years of this kind of thing to come doesn’t give me the same thrill that many parents seem to get. Rob’s late wife coached their girls even, but I was a basketball and a volleyball coach when I taught middle school. Did that for years, but only because they paid me. I couldn’t imagine doing it for any other reason. Coaching is thankless and the kids’ parents are maddening to deal with. My friend Meg literally sacrificed her free time for her three girls. Nothing superseded their activities, not even her own needs really. She was quite Buddha like in her contentment about it too. I sometimes think that years and years from now Katy will sit around with her friends and say this like, “I love my mom, but she just wasn’t quite cut out for motherhood.”
Mounds of lousy (maybe an exaggeration as we find just a few bugs and no nits yet on Katy) call me from the basement below. Rob should be back in the next little while with the shampoo and treatment stuff. Fun awaits.
So, in addition to the hair-treating - mine too probably because I have long hair and Katy is in close contact with me - there are beds to be stripped and washed........again. Clothes to be washed. Stuffed things and dress-up clothes to be bagged. The cat, according to my best friend, should be dipped in a flea bath. (And the cat is becoming a saga onto herself anyway at this point. One more straw and Rob is going to reassemble his old shot-gun.) Rob volunteered to work from home today to help out. The last lice scare, which was the first time Katy’s daycare sent home a note, I stripped and quarantined stuffies while Will walked in circles - something he was wont to do because of the dementia - oblivious, unable to even give moral support. I commented yesterday on Alicia’s blog piece about how hard it is to be a single parent. I made the observation that even having a second adult around didn’t change things in some respects. But I didn’t mean with the heavy lifting, like today. Rob will help with the cleaning and head dousing. For me the emotional aspects of parenting have always been and continue to be the toughest thing. I just find it draining to be on call to another human being from infinity to beyond. Katy is very demanding and has been since moment one. She doesn’t make the demands on Rob or anyone else really that she does of mean in terms of needing my attention and needing me near. And I am a person who needs down time and to retreat into myself in order to maintain equilibrium. Perhaps because double parenting is so new to me I went into it with expectations that were too high. I really thought I would be magically altered and that the things about Katy - her clingyness and incessant questioning and her difficulty entertaining herself - wouldn’t bother me as much anymore or that Rob’s presence would abate this somewhat.
Rob and I talked about this last night. I told him that I just don’t find joy and fulfillment in the kinds of things that most mothers seem to. Sitting for 45 minutes in that nasty waiting room at her ballet school for instance is beyond boring, but their our moms their happily nattering away like it was an outing for them. Last spring we were visiting my folks and tagged along to a t-ball game of my 6 year old nephew, I was so bored. The coaches do their best to move those games along but it is still painfully slow. My sister though had a grand time with the other parents. Clearly this is social for her. Just thinking about years of this kind of thing to come doesn’t give me the same thrill that many parents seem to get. Rob’s late wife coached their girls even, but I was a basketball and a volleyball coach when I taught middle school. Did that for years, but only because they paid me. I couldn’t imagine doing it for any other reason. Coaching is thankless and the kids’ parents are maddening to deal with. My friend Meg literally sacrificed her free time for her three girls. Nothing superseded their activities, not even her own needs really. She was quite Buddha like in her contentment about it too. I sometimes think that years and years from now Katy will sit around with her friends and say this like, “I love my mom, but she just wasn’t quite cut out for motherhood.”
Mounds of lousy (maybe an exaggeration as we find just a few bugs and no nits yet on Katy) call me from the basement below. Rob should be back in the next little while with the shampoo and treatment stuff. Fun awaits.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
