Sunday, March 29, 2009

Frazzled

So, in a few short hours I will be officially off maternity leave. I am feeling stressed about it, but if I recall from when I returned to work after Kieran, I'm pretty sure it will all be fine.

Still, I had last week off to get myself organized and integrate the kids into full time daycare. The days were a bit shorter for them than they will be from here on out, but they did pretty well. As for me? Not so much.

I tried to cram lots of stuff into last week. Vet appointments (fleas), my yearly physical (fleas), running lots of errands, cleaning etc. On Friday, I had to get my blood work done (just for a physical folks, please trust me that I'm not pregnant) so I was sort of in a rush to get the kids out the door, get the medical stuff done and then have the rest of my day to myself - no cleaning, no errands. I was feeling a bit frazzled, but got the kids dropped off and then went to the blood lab to take my place in line behind about 30 people. Awesome.

Then my cell phone rang. I had sent Kaya to daycare without a diaper on. I still have no idea how this is possible. She had on a onesie, pants and shirt. No diaper. The babysitter was calling to make fun of me (although, I think she may have been a bit worried about my state of mind).

Anyway, I finish giving blood and then, since I had been required to fast for the tests, I hit the Tim Horton's drive thru. I pulled in, sped RIGHT past the little speaker and drove right up to the window without ordering anything. The guy working the window just looked at me like I was new on the planet.

Me: "Uhhhh, guess I missed the ordering part, huh?"

Guy: "Sure did."

It wasn't even 1030 am and I had two people questioning my sanity, so I went home. I was thinking of doing a bit of shopping, but it suddenly seemed risky.

Hopefully, I get my act together and tomorrow morning is a breeze. Diapers and all.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

This Post is Making me Itchy

I have a decidedly love-hate relationship with our cats. Well, I should say cat (singular) since we are down to one.

We decided around Christmas that enough with enough. We had two kids on asthma puffers...one of whom had been on his puffer continuously for several months. Sassy was ramping up her urinary protest at the misery of her life by peeing every single day in Eric's gym...which as his clients will gladly tell you, is absolutely NO way to run a business.

Sassy now lives happily with another owner, whose carpets are still apparently pee-free.

Our other cat, Wesley, who still resides in our house, is quite a different story. We discovered after we moved into this house that keeping him indoors was an impossibility. He's superfast and wily. The second the door is opened he'd be out like a shot...although sometimes if my reflexes were fast enough I could throw my foot out and wedge his skull against the doorjamb, but, obviously he'd howl protest, and the second you'd let up he'd be halfway down the street. So, eventually we learned to embrace his outdoorsiness and I learned (sort of, but not really) to tolerate the parade of dead birds and mice that turn up on my doorstep.

But when he's indoors he is a wonderful cat. You couldn't ask for a better animal around kids...he has infinite patience with both babies and two-year-olds, and, in fact,not only does he not mind his fur being yanked and eyes being poked, he seems to actively seek it out. On many occasions he will curl up in Kieran's lap and I'll catch them napping together on the couch.

Anyway, the kids haven't been on their asthma puffers since Christmas, so that is a good sign. And we are down to one cat, which is surely helping, but Wesley has one big problem that still drives me crazy.

You know how when you go camping or to the cottage with a group of people and there is always one person who the mosquitoes loves more than anyone else? While everyone else is roasting weenies on the fire there is invariably that poor sod next to you, continually slapping and scratching and slathering on as much DEET as possible, Cancer-be-damned? Well, were Wesley a person...he'd be that guy. Only not with mosquitoes with fleas.

Wesley is a fleabag. When I would take both cats to the vet Wesley usually had fleas and Sassy didn't. Last year, just after Kaya was born and Wesley had reverted to his outdoor ways, I remember looking down at her in my arms and seeing a flea crawl across her head. Since at that point I was still counting her age in DAYS for God sake, I had to beg the vet to sell me the flea stuff without paying for a full check up, which is apparently "illegal" but they took pity on me and my newborn.

Anyway, here we go again... only this year, I know the fleas are back because they are attacking ME. Its brutal. I have a bites all over me and I'm scratching like crazy. I had a Dr appointment yesterday and she asked me what was going on. Do you KNOW how embarrassing it is to tell your Doctor that you have fleas?? So, back to the vet we went yesterday to start him back on medication which we are now going to keep him on year round.

I should mention that I am the only one in the house the fleas go for. Eric and kids are both totally bite free. Although sometimes watching me scratch makes Eric paranoid but there is no evidence of him being bitten. Me...I'm the only loser around the campfire in this house.

So, love/hate. Kieran would be very sad if Wesley were to go. I would be a lot less sad, and a lot less itchy. But, assuming the kids grow out of their asthma, the flea thing is his only flaw. Wesley doesn't even bother with the litterbox inside for most of the year. All he needs is a bag of $5 Friskies and water and he's good to go. Practically maintenance-free!

Anyway, for now he's staying. Fleas and all.

Frig, I'm itchy.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Limping towards the end....

So, it's Tuesday now and I have exactly 6 days left on maternity leave (including today). It's a bit shocking that an entire year has flown by...but on the other hand, as I've mentioned, I'm ready to go back.

I thought I was being quite smart by putting both kids in full-time daycare starting this week. It would theoretically give me 5 child-free days to clean the house, get organized and just relax a bit before I throw myself back into the 9-5 life, but of course, I should have realized that since this is MY life nothing ever QUITE works out to my benefit.

The kids have been on and off sick for the past month, at least. Last week, Kieran had a pretty nasty cold. Then on Sunday, Kaya slept in quite late and at first I was quite happy to be sleeping in myself since I had also caught Kieran's cold, but when I went in to get her, she was awake and burning up at a temperature of 105.2 degrees. Poor baby. Of course, this meant that yesterday she missed her first day of daycare and I missed one day (so far) of my child free week. It ended up not really mattering since this cold is brutal and I could barely function myself but I was down to FOUR child free days.

Today, Tuesday....I still feel lousy and need to get some sleep but I dropped both kids off. Kaya seemed fine (ish) so I wasn't going to waste another day. Although after I update this I most likely am going to take a nap. So, there goes day 2 of my child-free week.

Also, I've been trying to get myself back into at least the general ballpark of my pre-baby weight. It's been hard to find the time to work out since the only reliable time slot available in the gym is from 10-11 pm. I eventually came to the realization that nothing was going to ever magically happen that would allow me work out during the day or evening and that, if I wanted to establish a routine, that 10 pm was going to be "my time."

And since poor Eric usually finishes training his clients at 10 I don't really have the heart to ask him to put aside another hour for me, but I was feeling like I needed structure and a plan so I decided to order the videos from The Firm. I thought the video plan was quite smart since although I don't usually mind waiting until 10 pm to work out in our own gym, its nice to have the option of working out earlier upstairs if the kids are in bed.

I ordered the package in January - it was a whole kit which included a variety of DVDs and free-weights. The kit arrived in time...but there were no videos inside. So I called and they said they would send the 5 missing DVDs right out and that it would take 4 weeks. Annoying, I know. Especially since the clock was ticking on my return to work. 4 weeks go by and I call and am told that its actually 4-6 weeks plus an extra week to get to Canada. So after about the seven week mark I call again and tell them that its pretty clear the videos are NOT coming. They said they will send them out express and that I'll get them in 7-10 days (plus that extra week for Canada!). This would have put the arrival at some time LAST week. So sure enough, on Friday when nothing arrives, I call and they tell me that the package will most likely be delivered on Monday. So, low and behold when Monday rolls around, I open the mailbox there is my package. I was quite pleased. Until I opened it and it's the WRONG video set. They send the DVD set for their OTHER kit which requires some balance board type thing (which of course I don't have, so these videos are totally useless to me.)

So, I pick up the phone and have a terrible time restraining myself from calling the entire company a band of complete idiots. Really...how stupid are these people? I told her that maybe it would just be easier if they gave me my money back, but she said that they would ship out the correct videos right away and that they would credit my account. Ten dollars. (Whoo Hoo! Who wants a coffee?!) Whatever. I said OK that I would wait ONE more time. Although now I'm sure I'll be talking to them in 7-10 days, plus one week for Canada. Morons.

Monday, March 16, 2009

The Dream House

It's pretty clear to us, and everybody else, that our house is too small. It was probably too small when we bought it, but in the three years since we moved in we have managed to outgrow these four walls in a relatively spectacular fashion.

I remember when we were house hunting the first time. Our budget would have been decent in many cities except ours and every place we looked at required some kind of major compromise. Basically, if we wanted a nice area in a good school district the houses in our price range were basic and usually in need of a complete overhaul. The closer we looked to downtown (where both Eric and I work) the smaller and smaller the houses got, so we had to just keep moving farther in the 'burbs until we landed so far west in Mississauga we are a mere stone's throw from Oakville.

At the time, we were thinking of putting an offer on a sidesplit in our neighbourhood, but the backyard, though huge, was taken up by a pool and I was newly pregnant and looking for a safe backyard for toddler play, not a yard that would keep me awake at night wondering if Kieran, who I was just pregnant with, was jimmying the locks to get out of the house where he would accidentally drown himself. The other downfall to the house? It had a dreaded number 4 in the house number.

If you are familiar in any way with Chinese superstitions you will understand the tragedy of this occurrence. Apparently, the word for the number 4 in Chinese, sounds the same as the word "death" in Chinese and, as such, no self-respecting person of Chinese descent (even a total banana like Eric) would EVER buy a house with a 4 in the number unless they were willing to endure a lifetime of misfortune. And since we were already loaded down with some iffy karma based on a radical (to put in mildly) split from Eric's family (the story of which is too sordid for this blog and even if I were to share I doubt the internet has enough bandwidth for me to properly describe those shenanigans) we decided it would be unwise to anger the Asian Gods any further that we already had. So any and all houses with 4's were struck off the list, usually sight unseen.

So, to make a long story short, we ended up in our three bedroom, one bathroom bungalow on a quiet street in an OK neighbourhood with a huge backyard and lots of trees and the Chinese neutral number of 2355. Now, three years, two kids and one gym later we are dying for more space.

Recently, Eric had started hearing at work about a bunch of people buying and selling houses and getting unbelievable mortgage rates. He mentions it to a client of his who says he has a fantastic finance wizard who can help us figure out what we can afford. And with that the ball is rolling. In short order, we've talked to both the mortgage broker and the bank about what we need and how to get there. I even went so far as to meet with the bank to go over some details and as it turns out we can make a drastic upgrade from where we are now and ended up paying the SAME as we are now. So far, so good.

Market-wise now is the time to buy. Season-wise, spring is the time to both buy and sell. The problem? On a personal side, the timing is actually quite horrible. I'm back at work in two weeks after having been on maternity leave for an entire year, so we haven't exactly be saving up for closing costs and moving expenses. When I go back, a large chunk of the money I make will be forked over to our daycare provider.

However, since the ball is rolling, we decided to roll with a little further and since we have kept in touch with our real estate agent we gave her a call and, naturally in no time flat she was sending us listings. Don't let anyone tell you, by the by, that houses are not selling and prices are falling. Judging from the "standing room only" situations at a couple of Open Houses we stopped at, it is clear that the market is hot and, at least on paper, our own house has increased significantly in value (although we have done quite a few upgrades, so I hope so.)

I was apprehensive though about actually going out to look at houses. I didn't want to get sucked into the urge to buy before we were ready, but on the other hand, we wanted to see what was out there. Besides, we sooo aren't ready that buying right now isn't even really an option, so it seemed pretty harmless. And it was. The first three houses we saw, which were all in the different areas, had the exact same layout. I realize that when you head into the 4 bedroom home market in the suburbs, every house is depressing similar. The worst part, of course, is that this apparently so-popular-all-houses-have-it-layout is not even a layout that I remotely like nor would ever buy. I'm all about flow and feng shui and open concept not choppy rooms, sweeping staircases and ridiculously over-sized master bedrooms (although don't get me wrong, I want a bigger bedroom...I just don't need one that could sleep an entire village in Africa). So, after leaving the third house I was relieved that we hadn't found a house that I would remotely consider buying but also disappointed that these cookie-cutter houses might be our destiny. As we followed our agent to the last house I said to Eric wistfully "I just want to walk into a house and be excited."

And then we pull up in front of My Dream Home.

From the second I stood on the porch I knew I loved this house. More than loved it. If I could have designed a house to my own specifications, this would have come close. Among my first words once we stepped inside: "Oh my God, Oh my God." Pause. "I want this house." But I was also colossally disappointed, because, although within our budget, there was no way we could buy that house right now and worse, there was no way it was going to sit for a few months while we get our act together.

As we were leaving, the homeowner was coming up his perfect manicured walkway and we asked him a few questions...he was not only clearly the handiest of handymen, he was also a perfectionist with attention to detail. He answered our questions, said he was absolutely in no rush to move and would be willing to wait....except, he had to tell us, that there was an offer coming on the house at 5 pm that day. I was torn between the feeling of horror that someone else was going to buy my dream home and relief. I knew it wasn't even an option anyway, so at least this way, there was no need to go home and lose sleep over it (which I did anyway). We drove away, past the perfect little park two houses down where I could see my kids playing already.

What really made me mad about that whole thing, was up until we toured my Dream House, I was actually feeling pretty good about our little bungalow again. It's small, but in many ways the layout totally works for us. Bedrooms on the main floor are quite convenient and the main rooms are open so I can see the kids playing in the family room while I make dinner or do the dishes. There is also a side entrance with stairs that go straight downstairs so Eric's clients come in and out unseen and we have put in a new bathroom beside the gym so nobody has to come upstairs to my bathroom that may or may not have a pantsless two-year-old spraying pee on the floor. None of the houses we saw - including the Dream House - had basement access from the outside.

Anyway, I'm assuming my Dream House has been sold. Seeing my reaction, I think our agent felt quite bad for even bringing us there, but on the upside, she said that it will happen again, there will be OTHER dream homes that come up when we are ready. She was certain of it. And now we start the process of sprucing up and decluttering (ha!) in order to get this place looking roomy and sellable.

In the end, despite seeing and losing my Dream House in the space of a half-hour , we had another breakthrough. The Dream House? Which we both loved? It was house number 1401...and even with that dastardly lurking 4, Eric was willing to overlook it. At least he said he was, which, although he reserves the right to change his mind, is progress.

Friday, March 6, 2009

The Countdown Begins...

So, its official. I'm pretty much counting the days until I go back to work. Which is March 30 for those who may be interested in counting with me.

In general, staying at home with 2 year old and an infant has been OK. There are somethings I love about being home with the kids but, overall, Mama needs a break. With Eric working more or less 7 days a week, every week, I am going a bit crazy. There are times, when I think I can feel my brain turning mushy. As mushy as...something. See, the old me would have been able to find something vaguely clever that her brain would be as mushy as...but all I can think of now is a long list of baby-related mushy things...like the pieces of banana that get tossed from the highchair and land in the MOST annoying places and then have to be cleaned up only to have the entire process start all over again.

You can probably even detect my lethargy from the dearth of blog posts. I keep thinking "who wants to read about my kids being sick (which they both are AGAIN)" and there just isn't much else. That and Eric's band had a long break during February due to some of his bandmates having actual vacations (of which I can only dare to dream) and I typically update my blog on weekend nights when I'm home by myself and am feeling too cheap to order a movie from Rogers On Demand. (Although we rented one last night...Ghost Town. See it!)

On the upside. I think we hit 17 degrees today! This is a pleasant turn of events. I'm sure, naturally, that we will plunge back down into another deep freeze any second, but today was an excellent day. Eric and I even managed to clean out our hideous carport which we pretend is a garage and store things in and then are routinely shocked when said things become ruined. Today, we went to the garbage dump to drop off our old mud-covered highchair and our old stroller, which had first rusted shut and then, after Eric broke it trying to force it open, rusted open. (Although since my dad fixed our carport roof last fall things are getting ruined a much slower pace...)

Also, Sassy is gone. To a good home without children or a continual parade of sweaty strangers. After a particularly horrible stretch where she peed every single day in Eric's gym, we decided it was time to call the Humane Society. But before we arranged to drop her off, someone answered Eric's last Facebook plea. She apparently hadn't seen any of his previous ones ...and she came to pick Sassy up the next day. According to her new owner, Sassy is doing well and is using the litterbox as she should. I am using that tidbit as evidence that Sassy was totally miserable here and that we did the right thing. Which it was. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I get to sleep at night. When the children aren't crying. Or needing medicine. Or coughing...

Save me!!!