Taking notes.

If I kept every note that Juliana wrote to me, I'd need a bigger house.  A much bigger house.  She writes notes to say I love you.  To say sorry.  To say good night.  To say good morning.  To remind me of something.  To remind herself of something.  To say I love you some more.

Lately there has been some resistance to bedtime.  Tonight there were raised voices.

And then this:

I wish that I could keep my wits about me when I'm angry and frustrated.  Maybe this is the just reminder that I need.

This note is a keeper.

Taking care of business.

Lately I've been feeling meh. Actually meh with a lot of cranky thrown in too.  But enough is enough.  I gave myself this week to get down to business and to get some stuff crossed off my list of things to do.  I think I've done pretty well:

Share some Valentine love.  Check.

Find three bags worth of clothes to donate to charity & schedule pick up.  Check.

Register on-line with Sheldon for his grade nine courses.  Check.

Book long overdue hair appointment.  Check.

Cheer quietly when School/Parent Council meeting is cancelled.  Check.

Make decisions about going away party for friends and send invitations out.  Check.

Purchase new(ish) vehicle.  Check. 

Attend Parent Info night at the High School (without tears so as to avoid embarrassment).  Check.

Advocate for child.  Check.

Make reservations for date night with my husband.  Check.

It's the end of the week and I feel like a cloud has been lifted.  I'm walking taller and it feels great.   All that's left is to turn my face to the sun and wait for the spring.

Love is in the Air.

 Happy Valentine's Day to all my loves........

xoxoxo

When Valentines Go Bad.

In honour of Valentines Day, which is going to be very low-key around here this year (partly due to the following), I've decided to share the adventure of our preparations for the big day last year:

Tuesday, 3:30 pm:

Juliana came home today and asked if I could bake treats for her class Valentine's Day party on Thursday.  My answer is usually no because I'm not really a baker but I'm home this week and since I've got the time, I'll channel a little Martha Stewart and we can bake some brownies (two-bite style) and top them with something valentiney.  It'll be fun. 

Wednesday, 3:30 pm:

Juliana asked if I baked her treats.  Well, no, because there is two inches of drywall dust on every flat surface in the house and I thought I should tackle that.  But we've got lots of time.

Wednesday, 7:45 pm:

Juliana wants to know if she can help with the brownies.  Well......I don't generally bake after the sun goes down.  And I really don't bake with children after the sun goes down.  But I'll make an exception, just this once.  So she helps me with the mix.  We grease the mini-muffin tins, fill them and pop them in the oven.

Wednesday, 8:10 pm:

Hmmm.  Those look bigger than I had planned.  I wonder how well they will come out of the tin?  I wait a bit so that they can cool but I'm still not certain that they'll come out clean.

Wednesday, 8:30 pm:

Uh, oh.  Not coming out clean at all.  I'll wait a couple of more minutes.  I'll just go down to the basement with Peter and talk about paint colours.

Wednesday, 8:33 pm:

What the heck was that crash?  Could it be? [Run upstairs to kitchen].  Yup, Maggie tried to help get them out of the tin and knocked it to the floor.  They came out clean.

Wednesday, 8:35 pm:

Peter leaves for the grocery store to buy bags and bags of Two-Bite Brownies.  I can use the icing to stick the valentine smarties on the top later.

Wednesday, 8:38 pm:

Juliana asks where Daddy is going.  I explain that the brownie experiment didn't really go as I had planned so he was going out to buy some.  Do you know what she said?  "Mommy, can you put them in a container when I take them to school?"  "Of course", I say, wondering how else she thought they could be transported.  And then she adds:  "Because I told everyone that you were going to bake brownies and that way everyone will think that you didn't just go and buy them."

Twist. Knife. Here.

Can't a girl get a sleep in?

I dreamt of sleeping until 9.

I had the bed to myself because Peter is away plus we had nothing on the schedule until noon.  

Perfect.

So, who let the dogs in?

Here's the thing:  Tucker is a big-time bed hog.  He likes to sleep close.  Really close.  If my legs are stretched out, he will lie pressing up against my side.  And if I'm sleeping in a ball, he lies right at the bottom of my legs so that I can't stretch out again.  If I move over to give myself more space then he moves closer too.  So I'd better be comfortable because, no matter what, I can't move.  

And Maggie?  She will sleep curled in her own little ball at the bottom corner of the bed.  It's all good.  Until I move.  And then she's on me like a shot.  Standing over me licking any skin she can find - arm, hand, face, it doesn't matter to her.  She thinks I'm getting up to play.  I have to shoo her off, get comfortable and then not move again until I'm ready to roll out of bed for good.

As an added bonus this morning, I also had a visit from Lucy.  She perched herself on the corner of my pillow and then purred.  Loudly.  Frankly, I don't know why she was there - she can't stand being anywhere near the dogs and yet there she was this morning sharing the bed with them.

All the while, because someone opened my door, I was accompanied by the soundtrack of my children in the kitchen.  I could hear them clear as a bell - Juliana yelling at Sheldon to be quiet because she was trying to concentrate on making her valentines and Sheldon doing a dramatic reading of the cereal box.

There's a reason that we sleep with the door closed.  

Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.

RIP Bubbles.