Am I the glue?

glustickYesterday I decided to make my own pita bread, it is pretty easy to do but very labour intensive. So I am covered in dough and flour when the phones rings, luckily hubby is home to answer it, god knows what would have happened if we had let the machine get it (all three of our children will then ring my cell, and if I don’t answer all hell breaks loose). I side-track though, hubby answers the phone and it is middle child, she needs to talk to mom NOW! Hubby brings me the extra phone, to which I yell “I just texted you not two minutes ago and said I was busy making bread!” She did not like my answer and did not want to deal with her father. I told him to say, that unless she is having some sort of medical emergency and is in hospital I will talk to her later. This was not the answer she wanted and promptly hung up on her father.

Soon after finishing the bread, I text our daughter, and tell her that she will have to learn to work with her father. Her response, a flat NO. I text her back “well I won’t always be here”. There is no response to my text, so I assume all is fine. The next day she phones me quite upset. How dare I say “well I won’t always be here”! I backtrack my thoughts, realizing she would have assumed the worse with that text, so I say things like “well I may be in the washroom”, or “I just might be busy”.  Both Iame answers but I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment, because in reality I may not always be here, though I am not planning it anytime soon.

Which brings me to my point “Am I the glue?” Nine out of ten calls from our three children, the call is usually for me, unless one of them needs the name of a song, or something that requires the use of some tool, then they will ask for dad. As mom, I plan all activities, do the banking for the kids, schedule their doctor or dentist appointments, plan our vacations, solve their computer related problems, etc. Would the household fall apart if I wasn’t here, probably not, but everyone would have to relearn their rolls and right now, mine is the glue.

Are you the glue?

Why I couldn’t yell at the teenage boy or husband

My children help me a lot at home, especially carrying things, since I am not suppose to, unless of course I want to end up laying down for a few days in utter pain. So when I asked the teenage boy to put his sister’s Christmas presents in my bedroom, it didn’t even cross my mind that he would open the closet door. A few days later, I find out from the teenage boy, that he had looked at most of his presents, (I luckily had hidden a few that weren’t on his list in a different place). At the same time, I also found out that hubby had seen the metal detector I bought him for Christmas. To make matters worse, dare I say, he Googled it! The nerve of him!

Flashback to when I was around seventeen. After spending Christmas eve out with friends, I arrived home to find my parents, two brothers and sister fast asleep. Our Christmas tree with all the presents, was for some reason in the basement that year. Being a sneaky seventeen year old, I went downstairs and shook my gifts. This did not satisfy me enough, so I carefully unwrapped and rewrapped all my presents. I thought I was being smart, knowing what my gifts were, I would be able to sleep in.

When morning arrived, I stayed in bed. My father came into my bedroom trying to raise me out of my slumber, when I finally blurted out that I already knew what my gifts were, spilling the bad deed I had done.  He did not yell at me, instead he left the room. I was safe and could sleep and dream nice dreams, so I thought. Instead, my dad came back into my room with a tray full of ice cubes and proceeded to dump the entire contents on my feet, making sure he rubbed the ice cubes on the bottoms and between my toes. While giggling away, I yelled for him to stop, but in a calm voice he told me how much my mother had worked at finding the right presents for me and I was going to get out of bed whether I liked it or not. I also, was not to tell my mother what I had done.

Have you every peaked or opened your presents on the sly?

Children, funerals, life

Over the years my children have been to far to many funerals. There have been funerals for their great-grandmas, great-aunt, great-uncle, grandma and grandpa, the little girl from school and most recently their aunt. When they were young, they read passages for their great-aunt, great-grandmother and great-uncle.

When we found out that my father only had months to live, we moved him into our home, where he spent his last six months of life. When he realized it was the end, he had me take him to the hospital. The next day, I brought my children down to see him so he could say goodbye. Each child bent over so he could whisper words into each of their ears. It was the hardest thing I ever had to watch. Afterwards in the courtyard, all three children were crying but middle child took it the worst. She had spent countless hours with him, learning to tend his vegetable garden or just following him around and now she felt guilty. She wanted him to pass to heaven, she had seen the pain he had lived with the last six months of his life. Trying my best to find the right words to say to her was difficult but my father was ready to let go and that gave her peace. When it was time for his funeral, middle child and the teenage boy decided to stay home, it would be the first funeral in years that they didn’t read a passage from the bible. I knew my father would be fine with this, he was of Irish/English decent and believed that you had a party to celebrate life after someone died.

When my brother’s wife got sick with cancer, my children visited her regularly during her chemotherapy treatments. They made her smile and laugh. When she passed, they did go to the funeral home, but it was beyond difficult, she was 30 years old. For the funeral, they decided they just couldn’t attend, my husband and I were okay with this decision and so was my brother.

With all of the funerals over the years, we have talked extensively with our children about death. Therefore, when their dad and I pass, there will be no funeral home visits, no church service, instead they will gather with family and friends at our home and have a party to celebrate the life we enjoyed. Not everyone will agree with our choice, but it is our choice, and we want our children to laugh at all the silly things we said, did over the years. They can remember the sad times too, but most of all, we want them to realize we loved every minute with them.