It's the long weekend, do you know where your ninja is?

The long weekend had its periods of sucky dampness, crying and whining children, and general exhaustion, but redeemed itself at the end.

Friday it rained, really rained, rained like people should drag out their ark plans and make a trip to the lumber store. Of course the morning started at 6am because we didn't have to get up early. I turned on the tv, a mom's snooze button, and tried to get a bit more shuteye, but sure enough, as soon as I would drift off, I heard the requests: could we have milk, could we have breakfast, could I have an apple, can we make collages, glass of water, new show, can you move the livingroom more to the left -ok, so nevermind the sleep. After the needs were met and I had coffee, I wondered what we should do. There was a break in the weather after lunch, so we put on our boots and coats and headed for the park, stopping briefly to pick up another kid to give her folks a chance to clean their house in peace. The kids didn't care that it was lightly raining, and there was a lot of running around and bickering and laughing and whining and experiments involving puddles and sand.



After a couple of hours we went back to the friend's house where we were preparing to have a BBQ. All the adults were around the BBQ or in the kitchen hanging out while the children ran up and down the hallway. One of the girls started to cry hysterically and her mom went to take care of her, then she saw Naomi, silent, blood pouring out of her mouth. They had a head on collision, head into face. Ahhhhh! I freaked out internally and got my daughter in the bathroom. Once the shock wore off she started to cry uncontrollably, she was obviously freaked out by the blood and the sharp blow to the mouth caused by the hard little skull. Wanna hear something sweet? While we were in the bathroom and she was bleeding and crying and I'm trying to figure out how bad the damage is and trying to calm her down, the first thing she said was, "I want Benny". He was playing legos, oblivious, but came right away and gave her a hug and sat next to her while we waited for the bleeding to stop. It kept bleeding and she wanted to go home, so she and I went home and Ben stayed because he wanted to eat BBQ. She cried all the way home, clutching the white face cloth to her mouth and sobbing. She is normally such a tough kid, I'm not used to her hurting herself and not shaking it off. Once we got home and I gave her some ice cream and put on a movie she calmed down and was fine. Both top front teeth are really loose though, one is SUPER loose. Good thing they have to come out anyway. Other than the teeth, she was fine the next day.

Saturday we watched cartoons and after lunch we jumped in the car to go and see Kung Fu Panda 2. It was funny and the kids are so well behaved at movies now. Then it was a few errands and McDonald's and home.

Sunday started out with a plan to go to the Redpath museum, which is small, but has one dinosaur. Ben was whiny, made more whiny because he couldn't find his ninja to play with in the car and I wasn't going to spend hours looking for it. So the ninja sorrow loop started, where he tells me how sad he is, and how he wanted to play with it in the car, and how we should go back so he could can clean his room and find it and bring it. When I tell him he can play with it some other time in the car, he wails, when I tell him that he should keep his room clean so he knows where his ninja is, he tells me I'm being mean. His sister takes this opportunity to crow about how nice she is being and tells Ben to stop crying like a baby, which of course amplifies the wailing and screaming by 300%. I admit defeat and crank up the piano concerto on the car stereo. We get to the museum, after parking and making a still sad and now sniffling son tie his own shoe (I'm such a beast!), and we find that the museum is closed.
Drat.
I put on a happy face and suggested we make the best of it by walking down to the art gallery a few blocks away. Ben forgot all about the ninja and now started in on how he wanted to see the dinosaur - all the way down Sherbrooke Street. No amount of telling him that I, being a total failure as a parent by lacking the necessary lock-picking skills or having the foresight to bring a crowbar, could dessuade him of the impossibility of going to a closed museum. So I smiled and pulled him along while the dinosaur sorrow loop played on. We got to the art museum and went in to see the Jean-Paul Gauthier exhibit.



Not really all that kid-friendly, but at least the bright, outlandish outfits were interesting, as were the mannikins that talked. We whizzed through the exhibit without time to read anything, and then stopped by the Greek and Egyptian rooms below. Naomi was amused by the naked lower half of a man carved in marble. It is a truth universally acknowledged that bums and penises are very funny.



Leaving, it was Naomi's turn to have a freak out because she refused to believe we were finished. Cue girl with an attitude being very rude to her mother - man I so deserve it, but so young? We walked back to the car and headed over to Peter and Lysanne's for a book giveaway/cookie eating shindig. Lots of fun and the kids played in the backyard. The sun was out, it was hot and beautiful. Then we were invited over to a BBQ at Aaron's where the kids ran around in his backyard and we had yummy food and let the Sunday end on a relaxing note. I could be in a falling aircraft and that man's smile would make me burst into song.



(Yeah I know I should have a picture of him smiling here, but he is notoriously awful about smiling for photos, so just look at the tree fort. I'll put in a random picture of him smiling when I'm talking about something completely different.)

Then we got home and I realised that my house key had fallen out of my pocket on Aaron's sofa.
Drat.
Luckily this was remedied quickly and then it was a flurry of bathing and pyjamas and slightly more attitude to get the kids into bed and then another couple of hours preparing everything for first day of daycamp and daycare and lunches and laundry. Cue collapsed but happy.

Way to holiday St Jean Baptiste!

Things I'm thankful for this week

Yeah, I know the title sounds too self-help Oprah-esque...

• Finally seeing the end of this damn cold! It has caused more problems than it was worth and now I have a mountain of work and things to catch up on and not a single run in more than a week!
  
• Short week because of the holiday!
  
• Ben's last day of school today!
  
• Naomi had her daycare graduation ceremony and she did great! She wore her flower girl dress and was the prettiest thing in the whole entire world.
  
• My girlfriends who always bring laughter, honesty, and a good dose of perspective to any situation.
  
• The two steps forward, three steps back dance of a very beautiful and frustratingly timid bird. It can be maddening to wait with your hand outstretched with breadcrumbs watching the war between wanting the offering and fearing the hand, but patience seems to be the only solution that will make both parties happy. So, we wait.
  
• Cereal. I ate a lot of it this week when I was too sick and tired to cook.
  
• The lady behind the counter at the tea store who gave me a free tea because it was my birthday last week.
  

Oprah moment over! I must find a better title for this - suggestions?

I'm sick. One of my office mates was sick last week and came into work anyway coughing his germs all over the room and Wednesday night I started to feel a tickle in my throat. I thought it might have been because I turned the a/c on in the car for the first time this year, but by Thursday morning I couldn't swallow without the help of tylenol. I soldiered through the day, but Friday I decided not to work, but had to take Naomi to an afternoon appointment and then errands and that evening wasn't restful. Saturday morning Ben was awake before 6 and came in to cuddle with me, which ended in him being restless and me not getting back to sleep. I took them to the townships for the day to celebrate my birthday and father's day with the folks. We got stuck in two hours of traffic just getting off the island. Fever, shakey, stuck in immovable traffic, it was cruel. I've decided I'm not leaving the island again unless absolutely necessary.
But once we finally got there it was nice and my fever went away and the kids had a great time running around.
But back to the sick. I cannot remember the last time I was this sick. Throat, fever, chills, cement headed, coughing, aching - it's like a god-damned nyquil commercial.
Sunday after the kids left, I collapsed on the sofa and watched netflix, but everything was making me cry. Obviously being sick makes people emotional, and I can understand when I cried when I watched the documentary, "God Grew Tired of Us" about the lost boys of Sudan, sure, that's going to break your heart, but I cried during "The Nanny Diaries", what kinda twisted flu is this? After that happened, I turned the tv off...safer than seeing if I was going to cry through Spice World.

Monday I called in sick, but I felt bad about not working, so I tried to log in to work, but the Internet connection didn't cooperate and the room was spinning, so I read with my book all sideways until I fell asleep, then woke up, read some more, then fell asleep again. Then it was dark. I hadn't spoken to a soul.

Today I was able to stand up without falling over, coughing still sounds disgusting, but hack is mostly gone. Still can't smell or taste anything, which means I've been eating anything because it doesn't matter. Managed to get downstairs to do some laundry so the baskets aren't overflowing. Sleep is winning out over guilt by mere exhaustion. And yet, the guilt is making me think I should be up, working, cleaning, baking, instead to curled up in bed like a pathetic, sniffling sicko. Why is it so hard to give yourself permission to be sick? I sat down to write hoping it would cheer me up a bit - hahahaha, oh yes, much better now.

This better be over tomorrow....

p.s.: Just remembered that I did talk to a couple of people yesterday - Ben was picked on again at school, grrrrr....... the claws are out.

Happy birthday to me!!

I have the best friends on the planet! I love you more than the awesome cake :-)

Perfect moments: Laughter, good food, lots of wine, thoughtful gifts, word play, cleaning up to Billy Idol, a wonderful man to kiss goodnight ..... bliss!

mini life lesson

Two children doing their homework at the dining room table must be at least three feet apart at all times. This would have prevented the crayola/glue stick massacre of 2011.

and speaking of signs....

I would like a sign that I can wear telling people that I ran 19k Sunday, ran 10 this morning, and did exercise classes Monday and Wednesday so I am not judged taking the elevator to the second floor....

I would walk around with this on a big sign if I could

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
Howard Thurman

Life lessons

I am interested in what everyone else is doing and thinking about life and personal happiness. I like reading other peoples' life lessons, secondhand self help. I don't always agree with them, but I am fascinated and curious to learn others' observations and often I learn something that I can apply to myself (or remember when I do something disastrous) and my little meander. In the spirit of this, even though I don't think that I have any new insights to pass on, I'm going to start writing down my own life lessons. Don't expect any brilliant novel thoughts here, it could be that the only thing they accomplish is to get me thinking more coherently.
I have no idea how many lessons I have in me, and the order has no importance, just have to start somewhere.



Life Lesson: Don't be a grown up.

In general, I think that acting like an adult, conforming to social rules, caring about what others think, and being so preoccupied with all the serious grown up problems to the point that we cannot be in the moment (generally because we are busy staring at our smart phones, oh I'm so guilty of that) crushes our creativity, strangles our belief in our deepest desires, and limits our thoughts and our ability to notice all of the beautiful, interesting things happening around us.

I have two beautiful, interesting, creative children. They whine about my rule of not watching tv during the week, but when I leave them alone for a few minutes, the complaining stops and they invent and act out stories and dialog and immerse themselves in make believe, and they love it.

The more I watch my kids, the more I realise that yes, they are woefully unprepared for retirement and they are a bit too obsessed with Spongebob Squarepants, but they also have a natural desire to imagine themselves in the things they enjoy the most, and they have a clear and certain sense of self. As they get older, that will deteriorate, but right now all doors are open to them, every dream is possible, every aspiration is a reality. My daughter told me at the table yesterday that she is going to be a dentist, a dancer, a teacher, and a singer, then threw in scientist when she heard her brother say that's what he is going to be. Why not?

When I was a kid, my belief in my talents was infinite just like my kids - what happened? I was going to be an Egyptologist and a musician and have adventures and travel and play piano and discover new mummies. When did I start being "realistic" about my abilities and goals and limiting myself? Why can't I take the advice I give the kids about believing in yourself and doing the things you love even if you are not the best at them? It is harder to define yourself as your knowledge of choices and options expands, but at some point I let myself settle for something that was less than my dream. It's so easy to just keep plodding when you have bills and debt and people to support and a future to plan ahead for, but where is the joy?

I think of all the people in my life who I admire, and one of the things that most of them seem to have done was given themselves permission to believe in their dreams. It doesn't mean that they are super confident people, but more that they know their hopes and desires and know that they can pursue them. I'm trying to learn that.

When I think about how my kids answer the what do you want to be question, I also realise that their decisions, while based on movies or maybe characters in books, are chosen out of enthusiasm and excitement and passion. It doesn't matter whether the decisions don't take into account all the hard work and effort it takes to get there, it's important that they get excited about the non-monetary result of the job - helping people, teaching people, making an audience cheer, doing something that gives them joy.

So, what do I do with this lesson? Well, I didn't quit my job and move to Egypt. So far, I have started taking piano lessons, I try to write a lot more and seek out the things I love, I let myself believe in my secret hopes and desires for myself, and yes, I go to my less-than-perfect job, but I try to be more creative there as well.
And I get excited and jump up and down about the things that make me happy because life is too short to be grown up.

perfect moments

Being the first one up in the morning and sitting with coffee and thinking while watching the sun pour in through the windows.

when all else fails, make a list

A few tiny thoughts before I fall asleep:

• I have got to stop sitting down to write and then feeling like I have nothing to say, and then when I get up to do something useful suddenly get ideas, but then be too busy doing the useful thing to go and write, and then when I sit down and write forget what the hell I wanted to write and and feel like I have nothing to say.
  That just must stop.
  
• My daughter has not started school yet, but she already has a crush on the floppy-haired young music teacher. Her father is already counting the white hairs. He is cute though...
  
• I have no idea why I can never remember how long it takes to cook a hard-boiled egg. Seriously, why must I look it up on the internet every single time?
  
• There are a few things happening now that I don't think I'm ready for. I shall try to bluff my way through until I am.
  
• Universe, I think I am close on this one, so give me a break and I'll try to be less neurotic so I don't wreck it.
  
• I got a great haircut.
  

A night at the opera: La Boheme - we laughed, and laughed some more.....

Last week I went to my first live, full-length opera.
Up until a few years ago, I was not an opera fan, although my exposure had only been the Bugs Bunny versions from Saturday mornings. I liked the music, but it just wasn't something that I was interested in going to watch-a bunch of people singing in languages I didn't know being overly dramatic all over the stage, visions of fat ladies in viking helmets, it just didn't appeal.
Then Ben took an interest in opera and things changed. He was three or four when I picked him up from daycare and he was humming an aria from Carmen. We encourage every interest, so I dived into the internet and started reading all the opera stories (frick most of them are sad) and we got opera cds and listened to them. I talked to my friends who were opera fans and got them to tell me about performers and the background of the operas and the history. I went to a couple of Live at the Met performances at the movie theatre, and took Ben to see the Carmen Met show a couple of years ago which we both enjoyed, although Ben might still have fonder memories of the licorice and the announcer for the evening, Rene Flemming.
So I've been meaning to go to the opera for a while, but haven't gotten around to it, when suddenly it all came together- Guislaine and Adriana were both available and the opera was a classic - La Boheme. Can't go wrong with that, really. We got our tickets in the nosebleeds (or as Adriana pointed out, the hip and young section) and on Wednesday night we met outside the entrance. We dressed for the occasion, really, what's the fun in not making it an occasion considering the price of the tickets, and went in and climbed stairs, and stairs, and more stairs. We actually had good seats near the middle and an excellent view of the stage. Guislaine and Adriana told stories of previous opera shows (the one about opera at the Big O was hilarious) and finally the lights dimmed. Show time!
La Boheme is supposed to be pretty sad, but it starts relatively happy - starving artists joking around, deciding to go out, a romance between Rodolfo and Mimi (they call me Mimi, I don't know why) that is engineered by the guy pretending he can't find her key and blowing out his candle to make it darker - sly devil, and then a big scene at the Cafe Momus with the introduction of Musetta and the strange appearance of a toy maker, Parpignol, for really no reason. They make a big deal about it though. When the scene ended, the lights came up and we talked about it. First, the translations, in French and English which sometimes didn't match and Adriana said didn't always convey the Italian. Sometimes they were downright funny. Then we joked about the romantic scene and how fast that moved along and then the mysterious toy maker. What was the deal with him? Guislaine suggested we should write a sequel just about him, perhaps with his toys coming to life and going on a rampage through the rest of the opera, and thus © La Boheme 2 - Parpignol's Revenge was born. Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the opera...... Honestly, he doesn't appear in the rest of the opera, what is the big deal with him?
Great fun, then the next act starts at the gates and Marcello talking to Mimi and Mimi telling him how jealous and awful Rodolfo is being. Then she hides and listens when Rodolfo and Marcello are talking and finds out he feels bad about making her stay at his cold flat and that she's dying, which surprisingly she doesn't realise, which was kind of funny. Then she's discovered because of all that coughing (amazing that she can sing), she tells him she's going back to her place (the translation here is "goodbye, no hard feelings" which has now become a catch phrase for the three of us) and they confusingly agree to stay together until the Spring. I've heard all of the music in the past, but this was the first time I was reading a translation as it was going along. Mimi's "Donde lieta uscì" is beautiful to hear, but I was amused to find out that she is basically singing about her hat.
More discussion during the set change: what the hell was the whole staying together until Spring about? And seriously, how is she surprised when Rodolfo says that she's dying?
Final act- The guys are both missing their ladies and singing about it, then they all start horsing around which was really well done and nice and light. Then Musetta rushes in with Mimi who is on her last legs and the whole thing gets pretty sad from there. Colline's song about his coat is a bit odd, but I guess he needed something to sing about. Her death is sort of subtle, she doesn't die while singing, she just quietly passes while the other characters are mourning her imminent demise and praying. While it was sad, it didn't really bring out a lot of emotion in me. This could be the young age of the cast or the direction, but for someone who cries at dog food commercials, I was shockingly tearless at the end. Still, it was a wonderful night, with beautiful music, good friends, lots of laughing, and ended with burgers and fries in our fancy clothes at midnight.
I'm doing that again!

Men in blue cannot resist princesses

On our way to a friend's house tonight and Naomi is sitting in the back of the car, in a dress and tiara of course. A police car is waiting next to us at the light. As it turns green she says, "Mom! The policeman waved at me!". I turned to see the officer giving her a big thumbs up with a smile on his face as he's driving away. I look back and Naomi is giving a big thumbs up and said, "Look! I'm doing what he was doing. He waved too!", and then after a few seconds, "He thinks I'm beautiful."
Yup, you are kiddo...

perfect moments

Waking up on a warm night to the sound of the rain and feeling the soft breeze on your face before falling back to sleep.

The mouse, part one

So there was this mouse.
This past winter I was cleaning stuff off the pantry floor, picked up a discarded cloth grocery bag, and discovered a few cups of catfood inside. I was confused for a moment until I noticed little mouse droppings in a corner. Great. And yes, I'm the worst housekeeper ever. Mr Mouse had been stashing that away for a while I guessed. So I threw out the bag and cleaned up the pantry and washed the floor and the next day found myself staring at the display for vermin traps at the hardware store. The classic wooden Victory ones were there, but so were a variety of humane traps. Live and let live is my motto, and I didn't want the mouse dead, just out of my house, so I bought a couple of non-killing traps and went home. It took a week to talk myself into baiting them and putting them out. I'd like to make one thing clear at this point-I'm not afraid of mice. I do not jump on chairs or scream, they do not bother me in the slightest when they are alive and free and running around places that are not my house. I always wanted gerbils or hamsters (my parents wouldn't let me have them) and I even raised lab rats. My problem is dealing with dead mice or captured, panicked mice. I had visions of the mouse crawling into the trap and getting caught and then squeaking and freaking me out in the middle of the night. What if the kids were here? And what would I do with it? I'd have to drive it somewhere (I was thinking the nicer area of town with the big houses) otherwise it would just get back into my house. I'd have to transfer it to something with air holes, maybe a cage? I didn't have one. Would it chew through a cardboard box? Maybe the kids would like to see it, would they get attached? Blabbyblahblah my brain inventing all these scenarios that had me suddenly incapable of handling a very small rodent. Dumb brain. I overcame, set out the traps, and waited, and waited. And moved the traps, and changed the bait, and waited some more, and tried a few more traps of different types, and waited. Nothing. Yet all the while I was finding new stashes of catfood hidden here and there and droppings. I cleaned and cleaned and moved things out of areas I knew that mouse was hanging around to discourage it when there was nothing to hide behind and tried to close its access points into the house. You may ask where my cat was for all of this, well, she was mostly sleeping on my bed and the living room sofa. She's at least 300 in human years of something, so while she was a fantastic mouser in her prime, those days are over. I think that she has adopted the "I don't see you, you don't see me" policy.
This went on all winter. I finally mentioned it to my landlady and she was shocked and claimed to not have any mice, despite living downstairs. I'm fairly certain that my mouse did not parachute into my house, but nevermind. She came up that afternoon and dropped off a couple of the classic Victory traps. Sigh, she was right. Mr Mouse had to go. I nearly took my finger off setting the traps and placed them in two places where I know he was hanging out, and went about my evening. At 11:30pm I heard one snap. I froze, paralyzed by the inevitable. I texted a friend in a panic and he said to leave it until morning and try to forget it. In the morning I slowly opened the cupboard door and looked inside to see an empty trap, the cheese gone. Damn. I was a bit relieved, but then pissed off - now I'd have to do this again! I set it again, this time with a smaller piece of cheese, and closed the cupboard. In the morning I opened that cupboard to grab a bottle of cleaner because the cat barfed on the floor, and saw trap the had been successful. I actually only saw the tail in the quick glance before I closed the cupboard. Yay and crap. What was I going to do now? I texted my friend again, now Monday morning. The kids were eating breakfast in the dining room, and I figured it would be best not to mention it. Naomi would have stared and poked and Ben might have gotten upset and insisted on a burial. My friend came over and disposed of the corpse seeing as how I couldn't even look at it. It was quick and with minimal clever remarks. I felt like a wimp.
I'm just not cut out for premeditated murder I suppose. Perhaps it gets easier after your first kill?

Other people are not you.

Another wonderful concert on Tuesday. A week before, I went to see Nagano conducting Liszt and Shostakovich which was pretty fantastic and made more so by a cheap last-minute seat in O right down the middle. This Tuesday I went to a show entitled The Evolution of the Symphony. Gabrieli, Bach, Webern, Stravinski, and finished with Beethoven's Fifth. The Fifth is near the top of my list. I am always amazed at the vibration that runs through me every time I hear it performed. Not a single note is wasted and the recurring themes running through become familiar but never expected. The energy in the hall was sensational and made my heart race. To make it even better, I was there with a person who is like a perfect symphony to me.
This is the last month of concerts in this hall after 47 years. Nagano gave a short speech without a mic, making the moment seem intimate. He spoke with emotion about the attachment to the hall, while looking ahead to the new space. Then, he announced an encore of Gabriel Faure, turned and began conducting Siciliene! So light and lovely and clean. After that was Berlioz's Le Corsaire, which I didn't know and only discovered later when reading the newspaper review. The reviewer also said that these two pieces were a classy gesture to Charles Dutoit, which after it was pointed out to me made sense, but went totally over my head at the concert. He complained about the incessant coughing of the audience. This past year they have strategically placed large bowls of Ricolas outside the entrances, but let's face it - the average age of the season ticket holders is still 200 or something. There are many younger people showing up, but we do stare out from our cheaper seats into a sea of white heads, that's reality. MSO, how about making tickets cheaper for people under 50 instead of under 30? I'm just saying.....many of us do not require oxygen tanks and would love a break on the prices so we could come more and probably start bringing our kids.

I want to write something longer about this, but can't right now.
Today was stressful, and all I could think about doing at the end of the day was coming home and playing piano.
And I did and everything felt better, or at least more right, and I don't know why it makes me so happy, but it does.

There was a light in my day, it means more work, but I walked down the sidewalk in the cold, wet, non-Spring weather with a smile on my face this afternoon.
I can do it, I can do it, I can do it......

the day

Work, run, home, garbage, laundry, made soup, made muffins, made granola, cleaned kitchen, collapsed.

Yeah, you know I miss him.....

Feeling artsy

Ben came home last week with a library book on Monet and told me that he was going to be an artist when he grows up. So we all sat down and looked at the book, and talked about the paintings. This week he brought home a book on sculpture, which we've also enjoyed perusing. This morning after gymnastics, we hopped in the car and went down to the museum and looked at the art. The MMFA has a nice collection, and I am eagerly anticipating the reopening of the renovated buildings across the street. Everyone was well behaved (a huge difference from when I took them to the Chinese warriors, which I should write and post) and we all found things that we liked.
Both kids thought the Picassos were hilarious. How come he didn't know how to paint a face properly? What a silly man.

am I here?

I feel invisible today. Like I could not be here and no one would notice....

perfect moments

My son running towards me up the sidewalk on a sunny morning shouting "I Love you, Momma!"
What my sad heart needed today.

"Jogging is very beneficial. It's good for your legs and your feet. It's also very good for the ground. If makes it feel needed."
Charles Schulz

Spring

Spring is lifting my heart. This winter felt a bit too bleak and cold for me. It had wonderful moments, but not enough to sustain my joy and hope. Now, the sun has started to shine when I wake and I spend a lot more time smiling. Things have not really changed, or maybe they have?
Either way, I am inspired and am back to feeling full of possibilities. Now I only need a slight change of scene and an amazing lingering kiss to start the season right.

Rook to Queen

She woke next to him in the dark. He was curled away from her, mostly uncovered and snoring softly, occasionally saying words she could not understand. She pulled the blankets back over him and wrapped her arm around his chest. He snuggled back into her warmth and let out a soft, contented sigh, something he would never do when he was awake. She smiled and placed the lightest kiss on his shoulder and hugged him tighter, silently wishing that he would be there come morning, before she fell back into a deep sleep, dreaming of cheese and chessmen.

Perfect moments

Naomi came into bed early this morning and moved over to share my pillow, her sweet little head nestled up against mine, breathing softly. Is she really all mine?

I still smell him in my hair.....

Goodnight Moon

Tonight there was a super perigee moon, the first in 18 years. My kids and I have a little love affair with the moon, so after sunset we put on snowpants and coats and went out to find it. It was hidden on our street, but when we got around the corner to the top of the park, there it was, shining low over the playground equipment, bright and huge and yellow. The kids ran to the bottom of the park for a better look. Ben said that it looked like a big bubble, or a balloon. Naomi said it looked like a circle. My camera battery died after a couple of pics (dang, should have checked it this afternoon), but we were entranced.
I sat down on a bench and let the kids play for a while in the darkness, hiding in the shadows, sneaking up the slides and racing down them. I listened to their whoops and whisperings as the moon lit the cratered landscape of countless footprints on the soft snow of the afternoon, now lightly frozen in the night. So much beauty and happiness, and under it a gnawing sadness because I would have loved nothing better than to be watching it on that bench with another, someone who looked up into the sky tonight and whose first thought was to tell me about it, wishing that he was there to kiss me under that wonderful moon.
We walked up to the top of the park again and said bye to the moon. I looked at the kids yelling, "Goodnight Moon!" and I remembered that the next time a moon like this comes again they will be grown.
Then we had a really good howl and walked home. Goodnight moon, I love you.

I have reached the weepy stage of exhaustion. Something has to give, and it can't be me anymore. Universe, please give.

Good quote

"Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."
— Albert Einstein

The hopes under my pillow

So, Naomi lost her first tooth yesterday. It's the bottom middle-right, and the left is already loose. I missed it, but I'm told that she was very excited and talked of nothing else the entire day. A great deal of attention and thought was given to how exactly to ensure the tooth's safe dispatch to the tooth fairy. She finally decided on a box within a box under her pillow. The twoonie received in payment was almost completely ignored - she was just relieved that the tooth was picked up.

It seems too soon. Ben is two years older and he just started to lose his teeth last year, but it's not about the timing. She's my baby and this means more than just a tooth under a pillow. I thought that I could find a way to write about my kids growing up that didn't sound cliche or overly sentimental, but I'm not having much luck.

I can't wait to find out what they will be like when they get older, I am so curious about who they will become, what they will be passionate about, who their friends will be, what they will accomplish.

But I don't want them to be any older than they are at this very moment, when everything is fun and people are all nice to them and they invent games and make up stories and laugh and sing with abandon and crawl into bed with me and cuddle up and tell me their dreams. At this moment they are perfect. They are not limited by anything.

I don't want them to lose this moment, this feeling of everything being possible. Faster than I can believe, I know that the spaces between parents and children appear and are filled with new interests and people and independence. It's what has to happen, parents move further back, taking on more distant supporting roles, guiding gently and hoping that the basic things that we teach them when they are so close are enough to help them make decisions that make them happy later on. Some days I'm proud of the job I'm doing, other days I feel like I'm failing.
But right now, they are still perfect and it's so easy to keep them safe and make them happy and fill them with confidence so they can create the beautiful things they do.

And I don't want that to come to an end, even though I know it has to.

things you eat when the kids aren't home

I found the best bread yesterday, I should never go to Akhavan hungry - the bread, stuffed grape leaves, hummus, smoked salmon, feta, almonds, yogurt = eclectic dinner. I wasn't surprised when I woke up from a nightmare involving purple trees that talk like Dame Edna.
Could not get a last-minute ticket for the MSO last night, truly bummed because I was looking forward to it. I needed some beautiful moments.

A simple request

my hero

You have ridden in on your white horse and saved me so many times.
And you were there again yesterday.
Your initials are scratched into my heart because the marker started to fade.
Thank you.
xox

Love letters

A friend just mentioned love notes, and it put me in mind to write one, or two...
Let's start with the easy one.

To my Ben and Naomi,
I cannot remember what I was like when you were not in my life. I do remember a time before I had you, I see the pictures, I tell the stories, but it is a memory without texture, a story lacking a focus, a purpose, and depth. You make me more, you make me want to be better, smarter, funnier, happier, so that I can give you more and teach you what life is supposed to be. I would be so much less me without you.
Love,
Momma

Haven't been able to write for a while. The ideas come into my head, sentences form, images appear, then as I sit to put it down it dissolves. Tonight I feel like something has to come out. I picked up Naomi at daycare today and there was a letter hanging over her hook, and the hooks of all the other children. It informed us that a wonderful teacher, Naomi's favorite teacher, and a woman I consider a friend has breast cancer and will be leaving tomorrow to start treatment. I read the first sentence and froze. I had just walked past her while she was putting on her coat and I had said a cheery hello. I returned to her and gave her a hug, told her I was here for anything she needed, and tried to put my happy face back on for Naomi as I shovelled her into her snowpants and coat to take her home. I had N give her a hug as well.

The letter said that Miss P had decided she didn't want the children to know about her illness, so when we got home I told N that Miss P was leaving on vacation and wouldn't be back until after summer was over. Then N sat down and made her a goodbye card. I wrote out what she wanted to say (paraphrasing a bit because she'd never have managed to get all she dictated on a card) and then she did a wonderful job of writing it out herself. She erased letters over and over because they weren't exactly right. I'm now cursing my perfection gene that I seem to have passed along.

Now the kids are in bed and I'm able to sit and think. I am so sad. Seeing P today on the verge of tears when I am used to seeing her so animated and happy was heart breaking. Knowing the sadness she must be feeling and everything that she has to go through tears at me and I cannot imagine a way to give her comfort. I can do nothing but cry and make food.

I don't want to start in on the "think about how lucky you are" sentiment, we all take a moment to think that. I'm thinking about the things that I should be saying and the things I should be doing to make the people I love and care about know how amazing they are and how I would do almost anything for them, and how to give more comfort to someone who needs a world of it right now.

Family - 2010

The part of my life that is always good and always right.

the rest of the holiday

I had this long description of Christmas, but it was boring, so here are the highlights:
Kids slept in until 7 Christmas Day! They were so excited that Santa had come and ripped open most of the presents before I had time to make coffee.



Ben - lego
Naomi - dolls
Me - watching my kids jumping up and down - Santa magic is the best magic


Pancakes
Park
Chicken dinner
Visit Steve
Supper, and FIREWORKS! The kids' first ones and they loved them.
Amazing day.



In between we went out to the townships for Christmas with my folks and I had a walk under a sky full of bright stars with only the sound of the snow crunching under my feet. New Years Eve was quiet, we went up to the mountain and walked up to the chalet and played. Dinner with Debbie, watching the ball drop.



New Years Day was a run in the rain - my first longer run in weeks, and it felt GREAT!
Now in clean out mode, and a bit of sedentary slouch. Work tomorrow.....gahhhhh.....

Eve

My folks are not coming into town for Christmas. Mom had to go in for some tests, and they have made her very tired and ill. I decided not to go down, I don't want my mom trying to clean her house or prepare a meal - if I tell her not to, she will do it anyway and it will be too much. So, it's disappointing, but we'll celebrate when she's feeling better. But what to do? There's no point in me doing a Christmas dinner because I'm the only one that will really eat any of it, so I decided retool Christmas. Thursday night we went to see Cirque Mecanics, a fun show at TOHU (great space!).



Today we hung out, played outside briefly, did a few groceries, then headed downtown for Chinese food. The kids were thrilled to be eating noodles in a restaurant and were pretty well behaved. Then we popped in the car and headed down to the Quartier des Spectacles to wander around the gorgeous snow globes. Along the way we also took in all the other Christmas lights downtown (not to be confused with the ones on SuperSexe).



We came home, got on pjs, watched Charlie Brown Christmas, put out Santa's treat and made sure he had enough room to get out of the fireplace, then read Night Before Christmas and to bed. New traditions are good.....
What a great day.

Joy

On Wednesday I was driving to work and realised how calm and happy I felt. Cards would not go out on time, things would not be cooked, the house would not be spotless before the holiday and that was ok. That bit of the holidays that I missed for so many years because I was always so rushed and stressed, arrived for the second year in a row. I call it the Grinch epiphany, the time when I remember that the people who love me are my gifts and they don't care if their cards are late or my house is a mess or the food is simple. Those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. It's a shame that I only enter this calm pocket after stressing out for weeks.
Throughout the day my mood continued to lift, and by the end of the day I was floating with happy, vibrating from within with this indescribable giddiness. Last year I had to make myself stop and let it happen, but this year it came all on its own - remembering what is really important, that I love and am loved in this world. That is all that matters.

yes you, I love you :-)

I love EVERYONE! XOX

Things I meant to say

One of my friends stopped by today and over a cup of tea while we were getting caught up, told me that his sister had called to say that she had some bad news. He told me that his 15-year-old nephew had just been diagnosed with Aspergers. He indicated that the diagnosis was no surprise to him, and we talked about that. I automatically corrected about the term "bad", "Well, that not really bad news, just news", and we discussed the lack of resources briefly and his educational plans, and then moved on to another topic. He left, I took the kids out sledding, and then we came in and started some baking.

So I'm taking some cookies out of the oven, thinking about getting supper ready, and I look over at Ben, who is helping shell pistachio nuts with his sister. That's when it hit me.
If I'd been in a movie, there would have been that whooshing noise and some kind of blur special effect and then a flashback to me, almost five years ago, sitting in a metal chair in a small room at the Children's autism clinic. We'd just gone through days of tests with an array of doctors and PhD students. We'd been referred to the hospital by our pediatrician, and after an exam with audiology, we'd been sent to the clinic because they told us that even though they were sure it wasn't autism, it was the fastest place to get all the testing at once. I now believe that they tell parents that because they don't want you to bolt and not go ahead with the diagnosis.

So, sitting in the metal chair, watching Ben with the final assessor - the head psychologist - expecting that she was going to tell us that he wasn't autistic, just like the audiologist and our pediatrician and everyone else who had chimed in for months. But while Ben sat there creating a block tower, she turned to us and said, "So, Ben's autistic". There were words after that, sentences, paragraphs, but I don't remember any of that because at that moment the bottom fell out of my world.

That was the feeling that I relived in my kitchen tonight, that awful, stomach-twisting confirmation of what I didn't want to hear.

I know that on the grand scale of things it is not the tragedy of being told that your child is dying, or will suffer with a life of pain. I kept telling myself that over and over while what I was really thinking about was how he'd never have a neurotypical life. We all expect our kids to have at least our choices in life, if not more. We take for granted that they will have as much of a shot at education, relationships, careers, happiness, and fulfillment as we have. It is unbearably sad to suddenly think that their lives may be severely restricted. I used to stay awake at night thinking about the fact that Ben may never get married and have kids and a mortgage and a steady job. Honestly, sometimes I still do. But it doesn't terrify me like it used to.

Flash forward to me holding a sheet of cookies in my oven-mitted hand looking at Ben and I really did feel like the most insensitive person on the planet. Time, experience, education, and work have made me a person who no longer fears the spectrum and Ben's future. Part of me is so proud that I no longer see autism as a bad thing, just a difference, but there's no way I would have understood that five years ago. I understand the denial and the wishful thinking and the fears that we beat down and the lies we let ourselves believe because we so desperately want our kids to be "normal". The nephew's Aspergers may have seemed obvious to some, but to my friend's sister I'm sure it wasn't and I'm fairly certain that the bottom has just dropped out of her world.

I wish I'd been a bit more present today so I could have offered a kinder word and a warmer heart.

Moments of the morning

• Watching my son, bleary and pyjama-ed, walk into the pantry, grab the jar of peanut butter and a spoon, and head to the dining room.
  
• Listening to an improvised version of "All I Want for Christmas" substituting "cookies" for "teeth".
  
• Passing by my daughter's room and seeing her laying upside-down on the bed putting on her tights.
  
• My son's hat hair.
  
• The dance my daughter did for me in the window of the daycare.

Yeah, I was late for work, no, I don't really care.....

I am so in love with music right now....

Just finished listening to all six of Bach's Cello Suites performed by Jean-Guihen Queyras. His playing was marvelous - lively and crisp, playing that tore at my soul and then lifted it into the sky. I sat there in awe that anyone could store this much beauty in his head and bring it out from his fingertips. At the first break, Adriana turned to me and asked how anyone who is able to play something like that can get on with their day like a normal person. How many hundreds of hours of practise did it take to create so much wonderfulness that sang in my ears and thrilled me? I got out floating, wanting to hug the world and take it all into my heart.
It has been quite a week.

Ok.....

Admittedly, the snow is far less fun when I have to shovel out my car.
We just had our first storm yesterday - 15cm and gusting winds that created snow drifts over my knees in my front walk.

After work I headed down to Place des Arts and got a great last minute for the MSO. Bach, Brahms, and Bruckner. I almost didn't go, preferring to hibernate at home, but I parked underground to avoid any more car cleaning for the evening. The first half was lovely- but depressing if you knew what the contralto was singing, "O Tod, wie bitter bist du". Cheery. It ended with one of those Bach pieces that I hum a lot, Sleepers Awake. I rarely remember what it is, but it's catchy. The lady two seats over had on way too much perfume. The second half was Bruckner's ninth, unfinished. The second movement is very intense, emotional outbursts that then pivot into passages of calm. Nagano is so different from YNS, more controlling (but nothing like Dutoit was) and sometimes leaves the audience unsure of when it's ended.
Last Saturday I went to hear Bach's violin concertos and the Thursday before was a night of Bach and Ravel (with my lovely Yannick Nezet-Seguin). Tomorrow night is cello suites, I feel spoiled to have access to so much wonderful sound - it fills my ears and heart and gives me those moments of stillness and peace and awe that we all need to clear our psyches.



As usual, there are a few things on my mind. A few people in my life that I hold very close to my heart have given me some things to think about. I thought that I knew what makes me happy, but as events unfold, it seems that I do not know myself very well at all. I am surprised by where I find happiness and what that means about me and what I need. Perhaps what I am searching for is more of a state of grace within myself than a manifestation of it in another, and the patience, forgiveness, and understanding that I am slowly adopting (Rome wasn't built in a day people) is making it easier to love it all.

wonderland

Last night while we were sleeping, the snow came.
It wasn't a lot, a bit more than a dusting, enough to have to brush off the car, and wear boots, and even enough in some places to make snow angels. The kids woke up late (I woke up early, why can't sleep ever coordinate?) and came in for a snuggle and we talked for a bit about our dreams and the plans for the day. Then, I told them to go and look out the window. There was much excited jumping up and down and pleas for snowman making. The sun came out, making the new white cover sparkle as we got outside and cleaned the car to go to N's dance class. Neighbours were out, and the kids and the dogs were ecstatic, the kids eagerly pointing their heads to the sky to catch a drop on the tongue, the dogs running along with heads down pushing snow and inhaling a smell long missing. My thoughts turned to the holidays and I closed my eyes to take in that fresh, crisp snow smell as well.
The first snow is magical.

I did it!

(This post is way overdue, just finding some time now.)

At this moment I am so proud of myself. At the beginning of the year when I came up with the crazy idea of running a half marathon (originally for the end of April, which was postponed) I do not think that I really believed it could happen.

Running half that distance was a challenge for me, and my knees were not super thrilled, plus, let's face it, I'm not a young lady anymore and I'm athletically challenged at the best of times.

I pushed myself January-March. I had a training schedule to keep, but with my kids and work I was constantly out of time and trying to squeeze my workouts into impossible times when I should have been sleeping or doing something else that was important. I got stressed out and felt guilty about not keeping my goals, not spending enough time with kids and slipping behind at work. When I decided I wasn't ready in April and I gave myself permission to pass, two things happened: I regained my love of running, which had turned into a chore that I was starting to dread, and I became even more determined to do the 21k. I decided that I would train and run the distance late in the year. I saw the Oka run advertised and I knew it was meant to be and signed up right away.

I increased my distance gradually and didn't freak out when I had setbacks. I tried to stay as disciplined as possible, and I talked to everyone I know who runs for guidance and encouragement. I also let everyone know what I was doing so that I had a bit of guilt-support built into my routine. Sometimes your motivation on those bad days is knowing that your co-worker is going to ask you how that training is going. Some of my runs got longer, but when I could only squeeze in time for a 5k, I just did that because it was better than nothing.

In September I started running to the mountain, up the mountain, around the mountain, and back, 19k. I love this run. My favorite part is stopping at the lookout to admire the view, I feel so strong and accomplished. On Thanksgiving weekend I ran along the lake in Hamilton and when I got back and plotted my route, I realised that I had run 21k! Wow! After that weekend I took a week off in Maine and ran the 21 twice, as well as other shorter runs and hiking. I felt ready for Oka, nothing was gonna stop me, I had actually managed to plan and prepare for this, I was thrilled!
On Monday, the week before the race, I realised that I was getting a cold.
Shit.
I tried running it out of my system, but that didn't work. I worked from home most of the week and tried to rest and take vitamin c and all the stuff you should do. On Friday I went over to Adriana's and she worked her yoga magic on me with chest openers which cleared a lot of the junk in my lungs out.

That night I didn't sleep a lot, and at 5am I was up and getting ready. I packed everything just in case the weather changed. At 7 I was at the race site, the chalet was still relatively quiet. Within a half hour it was chaotic and crowded, so I was glad for my early arrival, even if it did mean some waiting around. I watched the sunrise over the water while I stretched and relaxed. A half an hour before the start time I went out to the start area and waited with all the other crazies. I found my friend Joanne and we jumped up and down trying to stay warm. It was freezing. By the time it started, the bottoms of my feet were frozen. It was good to finally start and the sun came out to warm us and melt the ice off the pavement.

I was at the back and stayed there for pretty much the entire way. I learned a few things. Runners are messy with the cups of water and throwing protein bar wrappers and tissues on the ground, they spit a lot, running clubs are way too cliquey - they move in little snobby packs, couples who run seem to stop a lot at the port-o-potties, and the really fast guys start late and run past you like you are standing still. The route was a go and double back sort of affair. The first guy passed me on his way back when I was at the 7k mark! That wasn't discouraging at all......

Most everyone else passed me around 9 or 10k which was fine. At some points I felt like I was running alone. There were a couple of people behind me, but not too many. The last couple of kilometers where I would normally feel a bit of extra energy I realised that I had nothing, probably because of being sick. All the way, the volunteers cheered us all on, it was so sweet. When I reached the finish, many cars were pulling out of the parking lot. My final time was 2:25, about 25 minutes after most people, but very respectable for me. I had my banana and bagel at the finish line and warmed up a bit at the chalet before heading home.

It was kind of anticlimactic. I'd been training for so long, now I'd done it and I was walking around feeling elated, but very alone at the same time.

I stopped at a friend's daughter's birthday party on the way home. My kids were there and many of my friends, and they all made a huge fuss over me and it was exactly what I needed, especially hugs from my two favorite people in the world. I ate like a pig and afterwards went home and got comfy on the sofa and iced my knees and tried not to move for the rest of the day. Sunday I went to yoga and once again Adriana fixed my body. On Monday I was perfectly fine.



So, the latest total (money is still coming in) is $1657 for the Children's Hospital and another $190 for the WIAHA. Thanks to everyone who donated :-)

I can't wait to do it again.

Five

Holy cow! Five! This morning I woke up and you were all curled up in my bed because you snuck in last night. I looked at the clock and realised that five years ago you had just told me that it was time to get to the hospital, which, as per the doctor's instructions from the last quick birth, we did as quickly as we could. You arrived about two hours later, wrinkled and mad and screaming at the indignity of it all. Sometimes you still scream like that.
You are the most beautiful girl on the planet, perhaps the universe. You continue to astound me with your joy, your passion, your expression, and your presence. You hug with abandon, sharing your love of the world and your exuberance with everyone around you. You are a rascal, you tease your brother, your daddy, and me, and laugh with your whole body when you think something's funny. Despite your teasing, you are a good sister, a bit bossy, but full of cuddles and good intentions and a million games that you invent for the two of you to play. Ben is your favorite person in the whole world and that never fails to warm me.
You have opinions on your clothes, you already have better taste than me, you can't wait to learn to read and you sleep with at least six books in your bed every night. You are strong and mighty and quick. You will take on the world and win it with your will. You shine in this world of so many ordinary things.
And when you tell me that you are going to grow up to be like me someday, I am the proudest person in the universe.
I love you so my little Noo,
Momma

words you want to hear before you close your eyes at night

Goodnight my beautiful....


I will be back to finish my vacation write up soon. Right now I'm up to my neck in work explosions...

she's not from here - day 4

Yesterday was a slower day. I spent the morning drinking coffee on the dock while the mist rolled across the smooth, still water. The hammock chair in the living room has become my favorite place for reading and writing. I have book stations around the house, a different book at every one so that no matter where I sit I can pick one up.

I decided on a shorter run yesterday, about 8k. I drove to a road that snakes behind the pond (I'm through running on the two-lane, it's treacherous!), parked, and ran all the way behind and back. almost all of it was dirt road which was a nice change from pavement.



After, I drove into town and picked up a few things (can you believe I left Montreal without lip balm?) and came home where I read and did some writing and ate, listened to music, went out to the dock with a cup of tea. There was an upsetting episode during the evening, but I'm determined not to dwell.
Reading in the hammock chair listening to Haydn, wishing I could stay here forever, or at least one more week.



Today I am planning a run up in the White Mountains, which are just across the road. I drove up part of it yesterday, dirt road, winding up, pretty challenging for me. Then there's a turnoff to Crocker Pond which goes up another 3k to a pond obviously. During the summer there must be a lot of people around, but now it's deserted aside from the hunters. You can hunt in national parks in Maine, did you know that? So that's the plan. It looks beautiful. Trying to stifle the bear fear.....I need cymbals.

she's not from here - day 3

Decided on a hike up Table Rock in Grafton Notch.
Drove there, parked, looked at the sign pointing out the trails, and crossed the road. Heading off I passed a guy coming out. That was the last person I saw on my hike. There were signs for a number of trails, I took the Table Rock trail and followed it up. Once again, it seemed harmless.



It got steep rather quickly and turned into an antediluvian riverbed, boulders instead of a path, winding up 900 feet. I followed the markers of red spray paint, a bit incredulous, at times completely winded. A couple of times I thought the top was near, I was so wrong, the trail deked me out, ran me through some woods, then up up up again. At one point I got to this huge boulder under a cliff and stood there flummoxed until I realised there was a spray painted arrow on one side indicating a narrow space to squeeze yourself between the rock and a cave under the cliff. I suppose if you had managed to make it up that far, they assumed you were thin enough to fit. Finally clambered up a muddy last hill and reached the Table, a flat bit of rock with an enormous view of the surrounding mountains. The sun came out, but it was quite cool and windy. Still, nothing was going to deter me from sitting and enjoying the view for a while and drinking some water and eating a granola bar while I was doing it.



I wasn't looking forward to the descent very much, but realised as I was climbing down that the markers were blue now, then realised that the trail was quite a bit easier. The significance of the red and blue suddenly sank in.
Duh.
I was so happy about the fact I didn't have to climb down through boulders that I started singing selections from Carmen at the top of my lungs. I was hoping I really was alone because a) I'm not an opera singer and b) I don't know the words. Still, happy as can be tripping down the trail, torturing the wildlife, passing streams, slipping occasionally on moss and muddy areas from all the rain we've had lately. The markers turned white, but I was still heading down, and eventually got to the point where the trails separated and I was indeed coming down the opposite fork from where I started. Got to the car, now kind of frozen and enjoyed the heater immensely.
Stopped on my way out of the park at a place called Screw Auger Falls, where the water has eaten round pools out of the rock, it's marvelous.

On the way home also stopped at a covered bridge and then at the local grocery store. No tahini (what was I thinking?), but found hummus, which was just as good when combined with lemon juice for the sauce for the chickpea/squash thingie.

Skyped my kids, miss 'em.....then read, wrote, drank, and slept.

she's not from here - day 2

Slept in until 8! Woke to the sun on the leaves, making them glow bright red and yellow and orange against the deep blue sky.
And I believe to the sound of a passing logging truck.
Have been reading and writing and lounging all morning, but must get out at some point and wander about. Trying to determine if my knees will accept a hike up Grafton Notch, or whether they'd prefer a 10k run. I'm fairly certain they'd prefer to stay in bed.
So yesterday, I had my route, which started with a dreary run along the two-lane which the locals treat like the autobahn. No real shoulder to speak of, so pretty terrible. Finally get to the turn off, Vernon Street, which goes back, way back behind the pond and loops around to town. Paved, but very quiet. Too quiet in fact. Realised that there really wasn't much out there in terms of anything. My thoughts turned to city-girl fears - bears, serial killers, you know. On the other hand, I'm enjoying the peace and the woods all around and being the only thing on the road. To combat my fear of startling a bear (my brain is a truly stupid place), I started to sing whatever my ipod was playing, of course terribly because I'm running, I'm wearing headphones, and who can sing the Beegees and Abba? Was fully expecting to come upon a bunch of locals BBQing in their backyard and staring at me. Luckily, that didn't happen.
Passed the occasional house and bit of civilization. After about 12.5k I came to the next turnoff that I'd seen on the map. Paradise Road cuts directly into town instead of going further around and then back. This seemed more efficient to me as I'd sat at the house planning. It looked harmless, as all truly bad things do. There were quite a few houses along the route, although the road was narrow. I took it. It had started to rain, a light drizzle, it was a bit cool, windy.
I now have a new rule about checking elevations when I plan a running route.
Paradise Road got its name because its purpose seems to be to bring you to the kingdom of heaven. The grade started slowly for the first .5k, then turned into the equivalent of running up Peel Street ten times, in a now harder and cooler rain. At a few points I actually felt like I was moving backwards. I was rewarded at the top with a vantage of the mountains and surrounding colourful countryside and a cemetery with one headstone. There are a couple of houses up there and I was mighty jealous. The way down was much less steep and I made it into town in time for the sun to come out. I wandered a bit and then ran, stumbled, occasionally walked, the last 7k back to the house, iced my knees, went and found some food, had a hot bath, and read until I couldn't stay awake.
Out and about again!

she's not from here - day 1

Woke up this morning to see a pink sunrise and water rippling and everything was so quiet and lovely. Threw some clothes on, made some coffee and went out to the dock outside the back door to enjoy it.
Sipping hot coffee, world so peaceful, beautiful Fall colours, birds, chill in the air, sound of the water lapping against the dock. Bliss. Noticed one of the metal chairs had fallen into the water. Bent to retrieve it.
Fell in, obviously.....
If I ever warm up again, have a run mapped for today - about 23k as far as I can tell. I will be stopping halfway for a walk around the town.

A little time off....

I'm here!
When I looked up the directions on Google maps and printed them out, I must have inadvertently chosen the "scenic but deadly" route option. I must have also mentioned "meandery" because the first thing it did was take me off the 10E, send me through Chambly, then back onto the 10E. Just a reminder that you must always read all of the directions FIRST. Whoops. Lesson learned. Perhaps Chambly is giving Google a cut, lots of new developments in that area.
So back on the 10, off at Coaticook and through to a small customs on two-lane highways, then across into Vermont. This is where any semblance between reality and the directions ended. How this could have been the shortest option boggles my mind, the ascents up several notches and hairpin turns certainly did not encourage a lot of speed. It was pretty, until nightfall and the rain started, combined with the warnings of MOOSE! posted every half mile. I was becoming immune to the exclamation points and pictures of large antlers, until I saw a moose (MOOSE!) just off the road, yet barely visible until you were right up to it. My speed dropped even more dramatically after that. Also saw two foxes and a bunch of deer.
One numbered highway turned into another, suddenly I was in NH - finally! Closer! Drove past this beautifully lit resort of some sort next to a lake. It was a surprising site. I kept going up notches, around curves, dark roads made darker by the rain. Thankfully, US drivers dim their lights when you pass, shame they all drive trucks and SUVs and blind me anyway. Finally saw a sign: [My location] (ME) 28. Whoop!
After 30 minutes of driving I entered Maine and saw another sign: [My location] 28. Ummmmm...... is there a difference between NH miles and Maine miles?
Keep driving, and....... [My location]!
Stopped at an ancient Shop and Save and picked up some basics. A million cookie varieties, one choice for plain yogurt.
Got to the cash and asked how to get to the pond and got the full Maine accent from the bag boy and was enchanted and amused. The cashier drew me a map to get out of the village, which was sweet of her. Found the place without too much backtracking. It's right off the road, but right on the pond. It is the headquarters for the Maine kitsch and knick-knack society, but completely expected and very cozy and warm, and wireless internet. I'm sitting in this rope swingy chair, like a hammock for one.
Can't wait to see how everything looks in the morning. I went out on the dock and looked up and the half-ish moon was out and the stars bright and twinkly.
I'm here.

When to hold, when to let go

I woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat. I had a nightmare, my heart was pounding, brain racing, that sick feeling of fear that stays with you as you lie there in the dark. My phone went off, a text: "heart attack".
I thought it was a joke.

I found out it was no joke. Someone who means an awful lot to me had just finished being rushed to emergency, then to a second emergency to relieve a major blockage that was stopping his heart, a heart that feels an awful lot for me, one that I was not ready to have stopped. I scrambled to the hospital and found my way to the ICU. On the way I remembered how we had chatted the evening before and how he'd been fine, telling me that he missed me, complaining about some meeting, making plans for the weekend and some vacation time we were planning together.

There were wires everywhere, and a machine beeping and scrolling four rows of small, jagged mountains across a screen, close to what my daughter would draw for a landscape before adding a sun and some birds in the sky. Disks of paper were still attached to him, reminders of the machines earlier in the evening that were monitoring him, showing erratic lines and flat spaces, reflecting the chaos and terrifying pain going on in his chest.

I was amazed at how good he looked despite what had just happened.
He was treated in record time and exactly the way he was supposed to be. Every medical person who walked through that sliding glass door into his room told him how lucky he was. They also told him that he has to quit smoking.
He is 45, you would think that this is a no-brainer.
It is the one sticking point between us, the thing that I cannot tolerate, will not accept. I cannot turn a blind eye to it and shrug it off. Perhaps it's because I've been down that road, not as far, and understand the way back. I cannot understand holding on to something that will kill you. But I cannot make him let go.
I spent the day with him, watching him sleeping, watching the monitor lines, holding his hand, stroking his head and trying to hide how scared I'd been. Here he was, fixed, blood flowing, pumping like it should, a new day. The opportunity to start all over again.
And tonight he snuck out of the hospital and had a smoke.

I don't understand that saying, "If you love something, let it go, comes back....it's yours, blah blah". When you love something, you hold on to it with everything you've got, you don't let it go because the thought of being without it isn't fathomable. The time you let go is when you don't care or have no choice.
We make our own choices, but how do you respect choices and let go when all you want to do is hold on?

Incidentally, my nightmare was not a premonition, it was just about zombies.....

Benny's Run

Hi Everybody!

This is the first year of the (I hope) annual Benny Run.
As you all know, I started running a few years ago. This year, I decided that I was ready to attempt a half marathon, and I have been training most of the year. It will take place November 6 at Oka.

I am raising money for the Autism Clinic at the Montreal Children's Hospital. I am hoping that you will sponsor me and help support the people and services that have helped my son Ben and so many other children reach their potential.

Ben is now in Grade 2 at a mainstream school. He's reading and writing, doing math, telling jokes, building amazing lego contraptions, and socializing with his peers. We are thankful for every bit of help we have received to get Ben where he is today, and so proud of Ben, he's a superstar and one of my heroes.

There are two ways to donate:

1. Go directly to the MCH Donations page at http://www.fondationpourenfants.com/en/donate-info.aspx
Select Community Events or Group from the list. Type “Bennett Wark Tribute Fund” in the Please Specify box under GENERAL INFORMATION. This directs your donation to the Autism Clinic. Then fill out the rest of the form. Under Additional Comments, write "Benny Run". They will send you a tax-deductable receipt in the mail.

2. Give the donation to me and I will send it to the Children's for you.

Thank you all for your support!

Dina

________________________________________________________________________________

The profits from the race entries will go towards the West Island Association for the Intellectually Handicapped (WIAIH), which is a great organization. If you would prefer to donate to them instead, the link is provided below:
https://www.runningroom.com/dashboard/donations/index.php?raceId=5654&eventId=18497&memberId=VjYGNVczAWFdMFZiVGo%3D&item=8&guest=1

beautiful

red riding hood - musical

red riding hood - musical
Originally uploaded by dina the m and o

ninjas!

Mahler's 2nd, Resurrection - Orchestre Montreal, Yannick Nezet-Seguin

It was beautiful. My crush conducted marvelously ;-)
I set off through town, 30 minutes before the show (friend got stuck in traffic), only to find myself stuck in even more traffic. I finally managed to find a spot on Rene Levesque and ran up the street in the rain, in heels, umbrella being blown inside out, dodging puddles and feeling the damp chill on my legs. Worked through the maze of construction to get to the ticket counter and waited my turn. Mezzanine, G, but centre.
Ran upstairs, sat, waited. Speech about 30th anniversary of OM, short video, speech from YNS, what a sweetie. Then, MUSIC!
You know that you can expect good noise when there are six percussionists, two sets of kettle drums, that HUGE drum, and three other sets of clangy things, eight bass (basses?), two harps, obviously the rest of the instruments, and a choir behind it all.
Close my eyes, it starts, beautiful noise, then a part with strings where I started crying because it was so lovely. Dry my tears, flowing along with the big music, the quiet areas, the gentle, soft plucking, tinging, light, then heavy and dramatic.
The horns kept leaving then coming back, at some point I realised that they were playing in the wings. Three quarters through, three of the percussionists left, and the guy leading the way was trying to push open the wrong door without success before being redirected by the guy behind him.
The man sitting next to me had his elbow well into my side and possessed a muscle tic and kept jabbing me in the ribs. This grew worse once he fell asleep.
The mezzo soprano was rich and I could understand what she was singing, the soprano, as with most sopranos, I can rarely make out every word, but I actually made out even fewer, sounded nice though. She was on the "stick side" of Yannick and I swear he was close to poking her eye out a few times. Must have been farther away though because she didn't flinch.

The percussion was incredible, in a few places it came out like shimmering waves over the rest of the music and I was delighted at the joy I felt. The end was big and dramatic and clashy banging strings sawing, my crush in a frenzy of arms.

Back out into the cold and rain and home. Overjoyed that I went.

Happy

Some days all you want is for someone to show up at your door with flowers, and it happens....