Literary Mom

Dear Gaffer on your Fourth Birthday

(I borrowed this idea from another mom's website)

Dear Sherman,

You were such a wee little thing when you were born that I cannot believe what a tall, vibrant, powerful girl you are. Tomorrow when we all wake up, you will be four. "I'm too tiny."

Sherman is not your real name. I usually use the pseudonym of "The Gaffer" when I refer to you in this blog, but at Christmas time, you announced that your new name is Sherman. Last summer, around the middle of August, you became a snail, a baby snail, but you kept your own name. You informed us that snails don't talk, don't walk and don't feed themselves. As a baby snail you would climb into our bed each morning and go under the covers into your shell.  You even dressed as a snail for Hallowe'en. Actually, you were a Princess Baby Snail.

In mid-December, you became a worm. A baby squirm worm to be exact. You did not have arms or legs, but if you really need to move somewhere, your tail splits and you can walk for awhile. You have never managed to grow arms, but you do have "worm dots" that seem to function in the same way.

Your favourite dinner is chicken nuggets, fries, with lots of ketchup, chocolate milk and a toy ....from MacDonald's of course. That is what we will have for dinner tomorrow night for your birthday party. We will also be having a worm cake. Last year you wanted a baby humpback whale cake. Your active imagination keeps your mommy on her toes. Your favourite snack is cheese, pickles and crackers which you like to share with your dad.

You like play-doh, My Little Pony, painting, Toopie and Beenu and hiding mommy's jewellery around the house.

Your favourite sports are skiing and tumble tots. You love doing headstands on Momma's bed.

You go to  a Montessori pre-school and are very excited to go to your big sisters' school next year for kindergarten. You love books and reading and many nights you sleep with all fifty plus books in your bed. You would like a sister for your birthday whom you want to name Baby Light and you'd also like a purple party dress.

You believe that party dresses are an acceptable form of daily fashion and usually pull one over your jeans and top. Even for skiing and skating lessons.

You are very close to your brother and sisters and miss them very much when they are not at home. You and Mlle Jenesaispas spend a lot of time together and have a very special bond.

You cannot go to bed without two stories, two songs, one being "I know and old lady who swallowed a fly...", butterfly, eskimo and some smooches and then the all important hug on the leg. Lately you have been waking up in the middle of the night crying because "dust is falling on you."

Your favourite songs are Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash and Can you Feel the Love Tonight from the Lion King.

I know this letter is starting to droan on for readers but I am loving thinking and talking about you. Your momma and daddy are so lucky and blessed to have you in our lives. I can't wait to wake up tomorrow morning and celebrate with you.

I love you!

Love Momma.

Chicks Rule

This week I seem to be meeting up with most of my posses and I realize how lucky I am to have these groups of women in my life...how lucky we all are.

Monday was poker night. Ladies in the hood who get together for 10 bucks a piece and pass the money around from month to month. We gossip, solve each others' family problems, laugh a lot and play cards.

Tomorrow night I have the "not a book club." The inspiration of my friend Shannon, we drink wine, usually red, eat brownies and swap books. We gossip, solve each others' family problems, laugh a lot and occasionally talk about the books we have brought.

Thursday night I have squash house league. It is more fun than competitive although we all usually get a good work out before we hit the wine and the pasta bar. And of course, we gossip, solve, laugh, etc...

I also belong to 2 Moms groups, an actual discuss-the-book-we-all-read book club, and my very special "Just Because..." group with my very special camp friends.

These groups of women all meet for different reasons, but the results are all comfortably familiar.

We all know the nasty little girl playground stories and each of us can remember being the odd kid out. Sometimes that still happens as adults, but when the chips are down, when it seems that it has snowed for three straight months, when you can't push a stroller, get into your garage, leave your house without 15 minutes of prep time to get children dressed...girl groups get you through. They laugh at your jokes because the same things are happening in their houses. Their husbands have the same foibles and their children the same permanent coughs and runny noses.

My daughter has been a blessing to me in many, many ways, but the friends that have come to me through her is one of the greatest

Be Careful What You Joke About

I jokingly poked fun at Mr. Husband yesterday because every year he takes me out for a surprise Valentine's date and every year it is the same thing.

Last night we had our annual night scheduled...which I love by the way...and I came down the the worst flu I have had in years. I made it to dinner but that was it...the hockey tickets wasted, the Orbit Room a distant memory and me still in bed almost 24 hours later.

I will never make fun of my husband again. I will never make fun of my husband again. I will never make fun of my husband again.

Remember the Blue Vests?

Happy Valentine's Day!!!!

Psst....don't tell...I'm sneaking in a quick post from work...

Mr. Husband is taking me out for Valentine's Day tonight on a secret, surprise date. He is very romantic and has done this every year that we have been together.  I am posting now because I want to guess what our date will be before it happens and then I'll let you know tomorrow.

I'm guessing dinner at Rodney's Oyster Bar, followed by a Leaf Game at the ACC, followed by some dancing at the Orbit Room if we are not too tired.

Why am I guessing this?  Because it is my favourite way to spend a night in T.O.

And because it is the same surprise Valentine's Day gift I have gotten every year since we have been together...hence the reference to the vests.

I could be wrong...but predictability is one of his strong suits and when he knows a good thing, he sticks with it!  I'll let you know.

PS - If this is what we are doing tonight, I will be thrilled. Three of my favourite things with my all time favourite guy!

What Does it Take to Adopt a Baby in this Province?

Patience. Patience. More Patience. Some dollars to throw at the problem. Oh yeah, and patience.

Our journey to adopt began before we even had the Gaffer. One very short-sighted and pessimistic gynecologist told me I would never, under any circumstances conceive, and if I did manage to do so,  a fetus would never develop in my damaged uterus.

Choosing not to believe him, we began the infertility trail. But I couldn't put all my eggs in one basket, so we also began the adoption process.

At the time we decided to go the private domestic route.  This, the fourth child to bless our home, would already be different from the other three in that he/she would not be the biological child of Mr. Husband and his ex-wife. Our baby would not look like the others, go back and forth between houses like the others and would have a different mother than the others, so we decided that through domestic adoption, we may adopt a baby who at least was born in the same country as the others.

Just as our homestudy was finished, my body did the "impossible" and The Gaffer was conceived.

Her traumatic birth was a blessing of modern medicine and provincial health care, but also ensured that she would be my one and only biological child. By the time she was 6 months, I knew she may be the only one to come from my body, but she couldn't possibly be the only baby I ever raised.  It took me 6 months to raise the subject with Mr. Husband, but by the time The Gaffer was 1, he was just as ready to add once more to our family.

This time, our minds were more open, our concept of family even wider and we decided to pursue international adoption.  That was 3 years ago...

• We were not eligible for China, because Mr. Husband has 4 biological children, so we applied for Korea. 
• Three months into the Korean application process, we got a phone call informing us that Mr. Husband was about to age us out of the program at his next birthday (45) and we had to withdraw
• Vietnam was recommended to us, so we began the application process, even though the country had been closed for international adoption for 10 years. The programme eventually re-opened, but became flooded with applications and then closed again with our application still in Canada
• disillusioned with international, we switched our focus to domestic
• for domestic it is suggested that you register with as many agencies and licensees as possible
• we registered with two who were not optimistic with our ability to be successful - apparently mothers who choose not to parent are becoming less and less in number and those who do choose adoption for their babies prefer younger families with less children
• we tried to apply for two other agencies who required weekend long courses before they would accept our application
• in June we applied for the course, changed our weekends with the kids, found care for the Gaffer, canceled Friday afternoon work commitments and found out two days before the course that they had made a mistake and over-subscribed and they had no room for us
• and no more courses were going to be offered because the law was going to change January '08
• I cried, cried, and cried some more...the director of the course-canceling agency suggested that international adoption may suit our family better and suggested a new agency
• Why not?
• We submitted our documents and received provincial approval to go ahead, just as all our documents necessary for shipment overseas expired and we had to start again
• new interpol checks, new police checks, new physicals and HIV tests, new bank statements and employment notices, new certifications of marriage certificates, passports and birth certificates
• it is January, we are missing one document...Mr. Husband's birth certificate...which we seem to have lost in the last three years of document hell

Meanwhile....girls have abortions, babies are left in stairwells, seemingly psychotic crazed media favourites parade their fertility and children lay dying of AIDS, poverty and dehydration all over the world.

All I have left is patience.  Patience and that tingly feeling that all will be well. Just one more hump and all will be well. I have been saying that for the last two years, but this time I am starting to believe it.

42nd Street

In 2 hours and 15 minutes I will be 42 years old.  42!!!! I took 40 in stride. I even kind of embraced it. I got a make over, ran a marathon and had a few aha moments that reminded me of when I used to be fun.

I rode that 40 high of "now I'm 40, I can do anything" for about 18 months.

Then I lost it and started dreading 42. Mid-forties. Low forties, but in my forties nonetheless.

I am the same age as my mother.  Now of course that is not true, but I was 17 when my mother was 42 and she was soooooo old to me then. How can I be that age now?

I haven't finished having my family. I am researching JK's and international adoptions. I haven't achieved the fitness status I wanted in my 30's, I can't possibly be 42!!!!

But my memory seems to be overflowing with 42 years of useless information which is why I couldn't remember that today was Wednesday until it was too late to have this post included in today's e-mail. And my joints cry about 42 years of fries and gravy and chips and dip as the ultimate comfort foods that I can't quite quit. I've hit the stage where I can no longer sleep through the night, although that may be because the Gaffer is not sleeping through the night either. I am constantly exhausted and cannot begin to understand what happened to my endless energy. Perhaps this too is a symptom of 42!!!!

Fortunately, I have a temporary antidote and some great friends. Last night my oldest friend (read - since birth) took me out for dinner and we laughed at a lot of our teen missteps and how the Gaffer looks just like my father who has come back in the guise of her to continue to challenge me. Tonight my family took me to our favourite family special occasion restaurant, Richlees, on Avenue Road. Tomorrow my other oldest friend is taking me to Verity for a facial, pedicure and lunch at George (reviews to come). Then I am picking up a girlfriend and we are heading north for Georgian Peaks Ladies Day where I hope to be drinking Corona and dancing on tables ( de rigeur for Peaks events) shortly after dinner. 

I may be 42, but I can still rock the house, I hope!

Do You Need a Degree to Register for Kindergarten?

Who knew how difficult this would be?

The first conundrum is trying to decide where The Gaffer will go to kindergarten next year. There's a great public school almost directly across the road. They have a daycare. But the daycare opens after I have to be at work. And they do not have part-time rates so I would be paying full fair for partial days and have to find somewhere else to drop her off before school. And I'm having a little trouble giving up Jesus.

I went to an RC school, as did Mr. Husband. We go to church regularly, we celebrate the sacraments. It shoud be a no brainer, but after sending 2 1/2 kids through the neighbourhood separate school (Sir Talksalot left after Grade 4), I am disappointed by a lot of what I did and did not see in the curriculum and throughout the extra-curricular programs. No after care here and rumour is the nursery school across the street that sometimes provides care does not open until 8:30 - too late for work again. I don't know for sure because they have not returned my phone calls.

There's another public school, still within walking distance, but out of our jurisdiction. They are waiting to see what happens with registration next week before they decide if they will take out of district kids.  Our favourite caregiver, in fact she's so good, I'm going to give her first name props "JANET" lives in this district and may be able to help, depending on working things out with all her other little charges (referred by me!!!) but I am not even sure that we can commit to that. Thank goodness she's not advers to these regular "what if..." conversations with me.

There's also another private nursery school not far from us who apparently offers JK on an alternate day/full day basis, but since I work M W F one week and T Th the next, it may not work.

I think the best plan will be to go with the Catholic school and try and find a part-time nanny/housekeeper, but never having hired this kind of assistance or even looked for it, I may be too naive.

Our next problem, was finding all the documentation. I am an already admitted clutter hound who drowns in disorganized paper so locating the baptismal certificate was a bit of a challenge and we have never even gotten an immunization card, but they let me sign up without it. Phew!

Then there was the threat of the long line and first come first serve preference for mornings. Fortunately the storm seemed to circumvent that.

In the end, I have decided to apply everywhere and then pick when everything else falls into place. Don;t worry you parents who worry about staffing issues, I will withdraw from the schools who will not be lucky enough to have this wacky family in plenty of time to ensure their numbers are accurate.

I hope JK proves to be a bit more like university. Brutal to get into, but fun once you're there.